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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 2 months

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There is love in me, I swear (tell me there's something in you, too)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.3k

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: slytherin reader, they're all big partiers, reader has a bad attitude but in a nice lovable way

a/n: I warned everyone that I would be posting for someone new and now you all must suffer the consequences xoxo but also do please be nice abt it I beg

There's always an air of confidence amongst the three of them, the way they lounge on one of the larger couches in the Gryffindor common room, legs overlapping and shoulders pushed up against one another. They're completely at ease, your brain supplies as you step up to them, and you remember vaguely that people have said the same about you more times than you can count.

There's none of that from you now, though, as you perch on the armrest and look down at James's beaming smile.

"Hey lovely, what brings you here?" The way he lets an arm grip your waist is natural, pulling you closer so that your hip is against his shoulder.

"Finally needed to come up for air? Snake pit getting to be a bit much, hm?" Sirius's tone holds no real malice and neither does the glare you shoot him or Remus's chiding look.

"Came up here for some peace and quiet. Guess I'm not getting that, though," you shoot back good-naturedly, a hand running through James's hair as he begins to let his thumb rub circles on your hip where his arm is anchored around you.

"You, uh, came up to the Gryffindor common room for peace and quiet, love?" says Remus, amusement tinting his voice. You let your bottom lip jut out slightly in response.

"Desperate times. They're getting ready to throw another rager tonight and I'm just too tired for that," you say, a long sigh leaving your lips as you speak. James pauses his soothing hands to pull away from you enough to look up at your face, his brows furrowed and eyes big in that worried way of his. Remus and Sirius have perked up as well, and you find yourself sitting straighter at the attention.

"...You feeling alright, sweet thing?" Sirius asks. Your mouth falls open in shock.

"I'm not - I'm not that much of an alcoholic. I don't need to go to every party - you three aren't there, either." You look back and forth between the three focused gazes.

"Yea, but… what's a Slytherin party without you there? That's like - there wouldn't be a Gryffindor party without us." James points out. You arch a brow at him.

"Maybe you three just think too highly of yourselves," you respond dryly. Sirius barks out a laugh from where he's lying across Remus' lap and James makes a big show of pretending to be offended.

"Wasn't it you who called us Gryffindor's golden boys last week, dove?" Remus points out, a smile stretching across his face. You glare back.

"Alright, you can all shut up now. I didn't come up here to be accosted." You say haughtily, but Remus's smile doesn't falter and Sirius coos at you the way you assume he'd coo at something rather small and fluffy. You sniff indignantly and plant yourself more firmly on the armrest while James makes some gentle attempts to pull you down onto the couch next to him.

"Come on, lovely," James tries to coax you. You look down at him indignantly. "You can relax. It's just us," he prompts, smoothing a hand over your back. You shoot him another withering glare and, when met by nothing but his beaming smile, let your stubbornness slacken just enough that he can haul you up off the armrest, manhandling him so that you're suddenly squished on the couch between him and Remus, Sirius still lounging on his lap.

Remus puts an arm around you, the weight familiar as it falls over your shoulders and you begin to slump into it despite your stubbornness.

"Aw, your ice melts so fast for us, baby," Sirius teases, leaning to poke your cheek gently with his forefinger.

"I'll break that finger, Black," you shoot back, but there's no fight left in your voice. Sirius just laughs, leaning even more to press a kiss to your cheek, instead. You deflate a bit more, relaxing into the cushions and the heat of James pressed against you. He visibly sweetens at that, leaning towards you to press his own kisses up and down the side of your neck as Remus's fingers tangle with the hair at the nape of your neck, massaging slightly.

"Alright, alright," you murmur, voice breathy as you squirm under the attention. Remus eases up, his arm wrapping around your shoulders once more to let you relax against him, James pulling back to look at you fondly.

"Sorry, lovely," he flashes another smile. "Don't mean to overwhelm you."

"I'm fine," you say stubbornly. Sirius giggles in a way that you're sure means he doesn't believe you, and the faces of the other two reflect that sentiment. They let the silence hang, though, letting you gather your bearings.

"It's not fair," is all you finally say, in a voice too small to be your own. "I always know exactly what I'm doing and what I'm saying and what I'm feeling - until you three show up. Then I don't - I don't know." No one responds immediately and you wince internally, as you're sure it's so that they can all choose their words carefully. Like you're some kind of timebomb, your mind prompts you. Like they're waiting for you to just explode.

"I do," Sirius supplies, his voice carrying a sombre air that it doesn't typically. "I know what you mean, love."

"No you don't," you murmur petulantly, but he takes it good-naturedly, his face softening with nothing but love. The other two stay quiet - it's like they've suddenly stepped into a private conversation, even though they've been there the whole time.

"Sometimes," Sirius begins carefully. Tick, tick, tick, your mind reminds you. You bite your lip at your own perceived volatility. "When we're not loved the way we should be, it just takes a while to get used to suddenly having it. I… I do know how that feels, love." Your shoulders tighten at his words, something that feels almost like guilt burning in the back of your throat.

"I'm sorry, Sirius - I didn't mean -"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to forgive. You haven't done anything wrong here. You aren't doing anything wrong with us." You bite your lips harder at Siriuis' words, his gentleness, tasting a hint of copper in your mouth when you bite too hard. Remus steps in at this, clicking his tongue in that gentle, reprimanding way that you recognize as he uses his thumb to smooth over your lip.

"We love you," James reminds softly, his hand finding a home on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly as he holds onto you firmly. "Never-ending bad mood and all." You open your mouth to snipe back but close it again quickly when you see the humour in James' eyes. "Sirius is the biggest drama queen alive and we still love him," James continues. Sirius makes an indignant, wounded sort of noise that goes ignored.

"Well… that's alright, I suppose," you huff, your arms crossed as you sit sullenly. James coos at you in a way that you should hate as Remus slides one hand against your cheek, guiding you to look at him so that he can pass a long kiss to your lips. You make an embarrassingly needy sound somewhere in the back of your throat and grip onto the front of his shirt, but the only evidence that Remus has noticed is the way he smiles against you. That and Sirius's jealous huff as he watches, unsure of which place he'd rather be in.

The three of you settle in as you and Remus part, him smiling lazily and thumbing over your lips. You press a quick, delicate kiss to the pad of his thumb before letting yourself relax fully into the couch, the silence that blankets the three of you forming a soft, comforting sort of thing.

"So…" Sirius begins. "You're really not going to go down to the party? At all?" You sigh and tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Yea, alright, we should go. Come on."

"Knew you couldn't stay away."

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lovingmattysposts · 5 months

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Mustang

"we'd make out in your mustang to radio head"

"Never thought that one day, i'd be losing you"

pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo

summary: It was hard for you to be back in Boston, because Boston brought back memories you tried so hard to forget. You missed what you had here, you missed who you had here. And he was everywhere and you missed him so bad.

warnings: sooo much fluff but really sad, cursing, sadness, mentions of being turned on?? but thats the only suggestive part

i wrote this literally based on my life because I drive a mustang and love matthew sturniolo so I hope you love it too

xoxo, Autumn

I sighed as I dropped my bag into my old room, before collapsing into the bed.

I hated being home from college, but I also didn't it was a weird divide between my brain. It's filled with great memories, but also sad ones.

It just mainly make me think of the triplets, well mainly Matt. We were all really close in high school, but once I went of to college in MaryLand and they moved to L.A we drifted apart. Well that wasn't the first time.

We started to drift apart when Matt and I broke up. Neither of us took the break up well at all. We were both miserable. Obviously Nick and Chris, wanted to be their for their brother so they weren't there for me as much as I would hope.

Which now looking back it was a absolute insane thing to get angry over, it's their brother, they were going to support him no matter what. But i was young and I was hurt so I took my emotions from the breakup and pushed it on Nick and Chris for not being there for me.

The breakup was mutual, and not in the oh-he-broke-up-with-me-and-im-too-embarrassed-to-admit-it "mutual breakup". No, it was genuinally mutual. We both were in love deeply with one another and neither of us wanted to breakup at all.

One stupid fight over how we were going to work coast-to-coast and that was it. It was weird really. A really weird feeling when one minute you're in love and the next minute one stupid fight and it makes everything change.

We were just two scared teenagers who were too prideful to admit they were scared to lose one another to life. Living without Matt was a hard thing to grasp, because I never thought there would be a time where we weren't together.

I guess I got over it or at least tried to when I went off to college. I went on dates, kissed a few boys, even hooked up with one. But there was always a voice in the back of my head screaming "they aren't Matt"

It was weird kind of breakup. After the final goodbye that night, we never spoke again. Even living in the same city for three months after that until I went of to college and he moved to LA, we didn't speak once. And we hadn't in three years.

I forced myself not to check what he was doing, literally throwing my phone across my dorm room, just so I wouldn't check. It was hard since his entire life was online. Mine wasn't. It was easy for him to forget. It wasn't for me.

It really is hard to remember what their lips feel like when you kiss them for the last time and don't even know it.

Even three years after the breakup, every time I come to Boston I think of him. There were picture of him and I still plastered on my photo wall in my bedroom, I still haven't gotten the courage to take them down. I still had one of his shirts that was tucked away in my "stay home clothes" and I haven't taken it out since.

I especially think of him when I'm driving around in my Mustang. Since I didn't register it to my college, I left it at home along with all of the memories inside of it that I think of every time I get behind the wheel of that damn Mustang.

I just needed to go on a drive. To clear my head and to get my mind off my high school boyfriend. I stood up walking out of my brother and mumbling a quick bye to my parents and walking outside to the cold air.

I took my keys out of my sweatshirt and unlocked the car, pulling on the handle but pausing as I felt a memory wash over me.

"Matt" I giggled trying to push him off of me. He smiled against my neck and attempted to pin my arms down. "Whattt?" He smiled as his lips attached to my neck and then up to my face, kissing me softly.

I put my hands on his face as we kissed slowly, before pushing him back slightly. He was fully leaned over the entire middle consul, on top of me.

"Matt we have to go inside" I smiled looking at my boyfriend as he smiled stupidly at me, looking only down at my lips as I spoke. "Hmm hm" He hummed finally looking up at my eyes, his eyelids hooded. I don't know if it was from how early it was or from the kiss.

"Did you hear a word I said?" I giggled. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. "Nope" He smiled against my lips catching mine in a kiss again. I smiled as we kissed, as if it were the first time we had ever kissed. Butterflies filling my stomach as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against me, as we kissed.

I knew really believed in love before I met Matthew Sturniolo. I thought the books were stupid, the movies were unrealistic, and the couples in love around us were just going to end up hurt or cheated on. Because that was all I had ever known, that was before a blue eyes lacrosse player passed me in the hallway and we made eye-contact for a little too long.

I never believed in love at first sight either until that day. I thought it was cheesy, and terribly inaccurate, but something inside of me told me that boy would be in my life for a longgg time.

He pulled away from the kiss and brought his hands up to my face, rubbing his thumbs back and forth against my cheeks smiling down at me in adoration.

I never saw myself as a romantic either. Kind of kept to myself, was sarcastic and thought I would die before talking to a man in a baby voice, and a part of me thinks everyone thinks that way before they find their first love. Well in this case, the love of my life. There wouldn't be a minute for the rest of my life where I didn't love Matt.

"I love you" He whispered, leaning down and kissing my nose, making me giggle. He sighed leaning down against my shoulder and running his hand over my steering wheel. "And I love your car" he sighed, making me roll my eyes. "Sometimes I feel like you only like me for my car" I joked making him lift his head and furrow his eyebrows.

"What no, you're the love of my life. The car is just a plus to dating you" He said shaking his head. It was embarrassing the effect his words had on my physical being. I blushed, making him smile.

"I like when I make you blush" He smiled leaning down and kissing me again. The other plus to dating Matt, other than simply everything about him, was his lips. Oh my God, his lips. They were perfect and boy did that boy know how to kiss.

I honestly didn't know kissing someone was suppose to be enjoyable before kissing him. I could fall asleep kissing him. If my lips could be on his ever second of everyday, they would be. He quite literally changed my world.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth, making me hum against him deepening the kiss. He smiled as he kissed me harder. There was a hard knock against my window, causing Matt to jump off of me, due to the loud noise. He looked behind me, since my back was against the door. He sighed and sat back in the passenger seat.

I turned around seeing his brothers standing next to my car. I rolled down the window and they both leaned down poking their heads into the car.

"Jesus do you two ever come up for air?" Chris said looking between us making me smile and look down at my lap. "Seriously the whole school yard just saw you two suffocating each other with your mouths" Nick shook his head. Matt laughed and shook his head, looking over at me.

"I'm getting your windows tinted for Christmas" He said shaking his head. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Nick and Chris. "Do you guys need something?" I asked looking between two of my best friends. "Yeah dumbass, School's about to start" Chris said motioning to everyone walking inside.

"But it's coldd outside, and it's so warm in here" I sighed, leaning towards Matt. Matt pouted looking at his brothers and wrapped his arms around me.

"If you miss another class, you're benched at the next game Matthew" his brother said unimpressed. Matt sighed letting me go. I leaned back up in my seat.

I looked over to Matt who looked at me and then to his brothers. "Yeah yeah, just give us a minute" He said leaning over and starting to roll up the window, making me shake my head.

"You two are gross!" Nick yelled as he walked away. "Her lips will still be there after first period Matt!" Chris yelled as the window close. I laughed and shook my head, before Matt turned my head capturing my lips in his again. I fell into the kiss again so easily before pushing him slightly.

"Matt, we have to go. I can't miss first period again" I sighed as I looked into his blue eyes. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine" He breathed leaning back over, grabbing his bag off the floor in front of me. I giggled at his frustrated demeanour.

"Wait" I smiled making him look up as I reached over grabbing his shirt connecting our lips again. He smiled against me as he dropped his bag again, bringing his hand up to cup my face again. I pulled away as he kissed me deeper.

"Okay, Okay, we have to go" I said shaking my head, trying to shake the redness in my face. I turned off the car and grabbed my keys.

"Wait, we have to wait a second" He breathed making me glance over at him as he groaned leaning his head back against the chair, attempting to adjust his shorts. I looked down noticing the tent in his pants.

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?" I said raising my eyebrows. He glanced over at me, smirking. "I can't help what you do to be y/n" he laughed. I shook my head smiling and looked out the window.

He was going to be the death of me.

I shook my head, dropping my smile at the memory and climbed into my car, turning it on and immediatley turning on the heat to wipe away the goosebumps on my legs.

I sighed as I pulled out of my house and pulled out onto the road. Clear my head. Just clear my head. But everything about this car screamed Matt.

I looked over at the empty passenger seat and sighed. Physically seeing Matt there in my mind, but he wasn't. He was thousands of miles away not thinking about me.

As i drove around my empty town, playing song after song trying to make myself feel better, made it worse. I felt pathetic. Thinking about my ex-boyfriend of three years ago, wasn't good. Why was I still thinking about him.

I tried to convince myself it was just because I was here in Boston, in this car, but another part of my brain reminded me that I promised to him and to myself that I would always love him. I hated myself because I stuck to my word. That's why I didn't reach out after the breakup, because I said that if was better if we both just tried to move on. That we had to move on and we wouldn't if we were still in contact.

It's when he agreed to it was when the reality of my words set into me like a ton of bricks. The amount of times I wanted to show up at his front door step, telling him I was wrong. That I couldn't live without him. That we were stupid for ever thinking our breakup was what we both needed. But I never did, and he never showed up at my door either.

I guess a part of me moved on, or maybe my brain just convinced me that I did. I don't feel like I did, because there was never another Matt. All these boys i've met, it was hard to even picture them to be the same species as Matthew Sturniolo, because they were cold, hard, mean, assholes. Matt was sweet, kind, loving, and tender hearted. To put them in the same category as him would just be an insult to Matt.

So I waited until someone like Matthew Sturniolo came along. I've waited three years and I've not met one other soul like him. It wasn't fair.

I sighed. I needed to go home, take a hot shower, and stop torturing myself. I pulled around, driving back towards my house, trying to erase every single thing i've thought about on this long miserable drive. Once I stepped out of this car, I wasn't going to think about him again.

I was going to turn off this car and open the door and leave all my feelings and hopes for Matt inside of it because It wasn't fair to myself. I needed to let go.

I turned into my neighborhood and pulled up to my driveway, driving in. I parked the car and took a deep breathe, rubbing my hands over my face. I sighed, turning off the car and opening the door.

If it was meant to be it will be, at least that's what the poets say. But then again aren't all poets just people writing about what they think love is? Not the actual reality of it? They don't write about the breakups or the hard times, they talk about the falling. The feeling of being in love. Something so strong it could kill a person, that part I guess now I believed to be true. So maybe all poets are idiots.

I swallowed shaking my thoughts before opening my door and stepping out before looking back inside, and taking a deep breath closing my eyes before I shut it finally.

That was it. Now those were just memories. That's all they can be and thats all i'll allow them to be. From here on out I wasn't going to tourtue myself. From here on out not one more thought would cross my brain thinking about-

I froze.

"Matt?"

Standing there.

Right there.

In front of me.

My feet froze.

He stood tall in front of me, black hoodie, black pants and small scruff lining his jawline. His eyes as blue as ever and his hair still as floppy as I remembered, just a little longer. I blinked, frozen in time. My heart was beating so fast I thought I would have collaspted right then and there.

"Y/n" He spoke finally. My lips parted slightly as I stood in front of the boy that I loved all those years ago. The boy I just spent the last hour killing my mind over.

He licked his lips looking down at me with an expression I couldn't understand. "W-What are you doing here?" I breathed, barley blinking staring up at him. He let out a breath as he looked at me pulling his hands out of the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"I-I was in town and I-" I stopped as he looked down at me. I stared up at him waiting for his explanation. "I don't know I just kind of came over here. I didn't really have a plan. I don't know what to say, but I just started walking and I ended up here" He breathed, seeing his breath come out in a vapor in the coldness of the air around us. Making it real. He was there.

I blinked at him. I opened my mouth to say something but closed it, not knowing what to say. I honestly wanted to look up at the sky and wish for a million dollars and see if that would come walking up to my house too. But no. This was more of a shock than if that happened.

"I know-" He shook his head. "I know this is probably a lot for you, and I can leave if you don't want to see me and I know that showing up here after three years is so shitty so I understand if-" He spoke but I cut him off stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his torso, leaning my head against his chest, holding him tightly. This was real.

I let out a breath for what felt like the first time in three years. He paused for a second, suprized from the sudden embrace, before wrapping his arms around me just as tightly, leaning his head against the top of mine. I closed my eyes thinking If i ever let go he would dissapear and I would wake up from my dream.

"Matt" I breathed again. He let out a deep breath. "Y/n" He stated again. We sat there for a long time, just holding each other like speaking three years worth of words, without actually talking.

I pulled back looking up at him. He smiled down at me, tears in his eyes and tears in mine.

"How's LA?" I smiled, my eyes full of tears. He chuckled hanging his head breifly before looking back up at me. "It's not Boston" He shook his head. I chuckled, wiping the bottom of my eyes. I nodded just smiling up at him.

"I missed you" He shook his head, biting his lips as it quivered due to the tears threatening to spill. I shook my head looking down as I let out a breath. I leaned up wiping his tears with my thumb.

"I missed you sweet boy" I whispered as a tear ran down my face. He reached up, wiping it. I swallowed.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He whispered smiling through his tears. I laughed handing my head before shaking it. He smiled. "Thank God" He breathed before leaning down and kissing me passionatly. I smiled as we kissed, tasting the tears between us.

He reached down wrapping his hands under my waist pulling our bodies together as I held his face in my hands. I couldn't believe this was real. His lips were exactly how I remembered, as If not a single day had passed between us.

I pulled back, but didn't move away from him, as I looked into his eyes, soothing his cheek.

"I miss you too" I breathed, he smiled. I laughed through my tears, leaning my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and we sat there.

All of the sudden a car came racing up to my house, before slamming on the breaks. I looked up at Matt, who sighed closing his eyes. I turned as I heard the slamming of car doors.

Nick and Chris emerged from the car before sighing when they saw us. Matt's grip didn't loosen on me, like if he let go he'd be afraid I would run away. Little did he know I wasn't moving away from him even if he pushed me off of him.

"Matt you scared the shit out of us" Chris shook his head as he walked up to us. I looked up at Matt, who didn't look fazed by his brothers whatsoever. I looked back seeing Nick coming around the otherside of the car.

"Thank God you're okay" Chris said making it up to us. Nick walked over. "You can't just take off and not tell us where you're going without your phone" Nick shook his head.

"Guys i'm fine" Matt reassured them. He looked down at me. "I'm better than fine" He whispered looking down at me in his arms. I smiled up at him.

"We thought you'd be here" Nick sighed looking over at us. I smiled looking over at Nick and Chris. They looked like them, but older. Kind of like Matt. Chris's hair was longer and Nick was blonde.

I smiled leaning my head against Matt, both of our arms still wrapped in one another. Nick sighed shaking his head.

"Alright, you guys will still be alive when you let go. Now y/n come over here and give me a hug" Nick smiled. I looked up at Matt smiling before finally dropping my arms and walking over to Nick, hugging him. He sighed against me.

"Missed you" He mumbled. "I miss you guys so much" I said looking over to Chris before opening my arms in offer for him to join the hug. He rolled his eyes smiling before joining Nick and I.

"Missed you kid" He mumbled squeezing us.

"Alright. Alright, get off her" Matt said walking up to us, before pulling me against him again. I laughed and shook my head at him. Still now, he only wanted me to himself and I could have melted.

"Will you come home now? Mom hasn't seen you yet" Chris shook his head. Matt let out a breath before looking down at me. I smiled up at him.

"Yeah, but there's something we have to do first" He explained looking up at his brothers. I furrowed my eyebrows looking at Matt. He looked towards the car.

"Can we go for a drive?"

I looked over at my mustang before smiling up at him. "Please?" I said letting out a breath. He smiled, leaning down and kissing my forehead. He grabbed my hand as he pulled me towards the car.

WOW I LITERALLY CRIED MULTIPLE TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS. hope you guys did too🥹

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @ejswift @paper-crab @mwah0mwah @ghostgurlswrld @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @jjslovely

#chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #Spotify

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vhstown · 9 months

Text

miles g morales x you headcanons

— 42!miles x gn!reader (dating)

warnings: fluff, brief mentions of violence, angst if you squint

note: ok i know i didn't write him like a bad boy rizzful cool criminal bf but this is just my interpretation from the 1min of screentime he had 😭 i hope someone likes it? i don't really but it's ok posting anyway, kind of long a lot of ramble

wasn't edited previously but is now!

Miles has never dated anyone before, so naturally, he's never kissed anyone before. In fact, though he's reluctant, he asks his uncle for advice about you (just as a nephew in need, of course.) It's sort of hilarious to see the boy with such a cold and unbothered exterior try to flirt and make a move on you. When he asks you out, he nearly trips over himself trying to block your way, and nearly trips over himself again when you say yes. When you try to kiss, he freezes up, but eventually gets the hang of it. It's surprisingly sweet and careful; warm.

Miles is hesitant to date you — date anyone. It's a casual sort of thing at first; he doesn't want to get too attached. But what draws him to you is the fact that you can make his life feel so normal, so simple and in-the-moment. It doesn't take long for him to realise that this is what he wants.

He does everything in his power to keep his criminal identity a secret. When there's rumours going around about the Prowler, he's quick to shut down the conversation with vague, uninterested answers. He's not scared of many things, but he's scared of the only person he can really be Miles around leaving.

So, the boy tries his absolute best to be good to you. Yes, he misses dates doing God knows what, but he's quick to try and reschedule or show up to your door with gifts, food, anything he thinks might make you happy (despite your annoyance, he's really good at making it up to you.) When dates aren't working, he decides to take you on spontaneous ones, going around Brooklyn and wracking his brain for anything that might interest you or be nice enough for a date. Half of your date is usually spent walking around together, but it's more fun than you think to pass time together like that.

For the time you do manage to spend together, you notice he's very observant (he has to be to survive as the Prowler.) Miles remembers every little detail about you and what you like. Things you told him since he met you are still firm in his memory, even if it was something you said off-handedly or to somebody else. He's always surprising you with little things you mention: an accessory, dessert from the place you wanted to try ages ago, etc.

Miles is very aware of your interests and whenever he passes by related stores, he's always asking you if you want anything. You're the only person in his life other than his family; of course he's going to cherish you.

But the second thing Miles is worried about is his mom. He's very overprotective over his mom, understandably so. She's the only parent he has left and he knows she overworks herself trying to provide for them. He's always trying to help her when he can, doing chores and errands without question and per his uncle's suggestions, but if something was to happen to her, he'd blame himself for it above all. So when he introduces you to her, he's more than uncertain. It's not like you could do anything to her, but he's made it a habit to never fully trust anyone anyway.

That is, until he sees how Rio completely lights up around you. She's so thrilled that Miles has a friend (or whatever Miles told her you were.) Even though she can only talk to you for a few minutes before her shift, she automatically opens up her home to you, telling you that you can help yourself to the kitchen and come over whenever you like. She whispers a couple things in Spanish to Miles that you can't quite catch, and he doesn't care to mention.

But you can definitely guess what she keeps telling him. Whenever he brings you over, he acts aloof, almost awkward trying to follow what his mom says to make you comfortable. The house and Miles' room suddenly becomes eerily spotless whenever you're due to come over, and the cupboards are in complete order. Rio's always asking Miles where you are, and she treats you like you're her second kid. She's very aware that you might be in the future (though Miles keeps denying it.)

You catch glimpses of his uncle sometimes. He doesn't really talk to you, but the man is calm enough. Miles seems to be comfortable around him, but when he finds out, you can make out an amused glint in Aaron's eyes whenever he sees you. Miles doesn't take you to see his uncle; he'd rather you're not aware of the man's ridiculous way of teasing him.

Whenever you come over, you both make it a habit to snack, play videogames, listen to music, whatever you feel like doing. It seems like he's always trying to keep you there. Miles will never admit it, but he misses you a lot. All he really does to show that is pull you into a silent hug and kiss your cheek when he sees you again, asking in the lowest voice what you've been up to.

When you asked Miles about his interests, he tells you the ones he shares with his uncle at first — music, art, etc. But whenever you go into his room, you notice a bunch of empty shelves and hastily shut drawers. Miles never really shares his real interests with anyone (he thinks they're childish more than anything), but when you insist, he bedrudgingly takes out the figures, comics and posters, acting like he put them away ages ago and forgot about them (more 5 minutes before you came over, if it wasn't obvious from the way he was flushing.)

The two of you spend a while putting everything back. You ask him questions about it and he returns them with short answers. When you leave that day, his heart is full, and his jaw hurts from trying to hide his smile as he looks at his shelves filled with superhero figurines and comics. He won't be touching anything now that you've put them in place. He really can be himself around you, though he's still a bit reluctant.

On top of Miles' other "secret" interests, he likes drawing. He keeps a tiny sketchbook where he draws people mainly, and you catch glimpses of it sometimes when he thinks you're not looking. Half of it is ripped out (there drawings of his mom, uncle and comic book superheroes scattered around his room), but the faces that do remain are of his dad, unfinished. There's another drawing he's never finished in there too. It's been constantly erased and redrawn; it was meant to be you. Eventually, that page is ripped out too. You can't find it no matter how hard you look; it's in his jacket.

And at first, the boy was kind of awkward. He didnt want to hurt you; he knows he very well could. He usually let you initiate anything (though he's clingy as hell and was just shooting that feeling down as much as he could.)

When he does get more comfortable around you (especially after he's sure it's not just a fling), he's always kissing your cheek, forehead, your hair; his kisses are surprisingly chaste, sweet, much like your first one. He holds your hand often too, even if you're just sitting next to each other, fingers firmly locked together with the occasional squeeze to let you know he's still there.

But he's no short of a tease too. Miles always likes to say pretty things in Spanish just to get you riled up. Even if you might understand what he's saying, he says it under his breath so you can't catch it. Miles doesn't repeat himself, instead giving you that stupid cocky smirk you've grown to love (and hate.) Sometimes he lifts your chin to make his eyes meet yours, maybe to see you flustered too as he studies your face in silence, poker-faced, not responding to anything you're saying. You think he's being teasing, but he just really doesn't know what to say. You're his, and sometimes he just can't believe it.

What he really loves though is holding you close: his head over your shoulder or your head against his chest (or his against yours, with much pestering) so you can't see the way that he's smiling. As much as he wants to be the cool and distant boyfriend, he's a big softie, absolutely melting with your affection, always quick to return it with his own.

But when you're out, it's a different story. He's not only overprotective of his mom, but of you. It really shows when he walks you home. He keeps his arm firmly around your waist, giving dirty looks to anyone who goes even an inch too close to you. He whipsers "you okay?" and "c'mon" while basically directing you around.

Miles knows these streets better than anyone else, but he's not going to take you through quick back alleys. He'll take you through busy main streets, maybe stop by a bodega to pick something up for you if you're still hungry while he eyes every corner of the store, even go on the subway with you if you're feeling particularly lazy, your back to his chest with an arm around you so you don't fall. He's always muttering about being safe, and his street smarts definitely rub off on you; his advice is sound, almost too experienced for a random kid living in Brooklyn.

However, Miles won't let you find out. No matter how much he's juggling being the Prowler, his family and you, he'll make it work. He can't lose this, no way in hell. Even if he has to lie to you about his seemingly random injuries or ditched date nights, you'll never find out about that purple blur that skids past you when you're outside at odd hours. They're just rumours after all, he tells you.

🕸️💫👾

thank you for reading 😭🙏 i struggled w this one and hobie too but idk i love 42 miles he's just some guy fr .... im thinking of writing a friends to lovers fic w 42 miles but im not sure yet (im just really lazy but lmk if ur interested?) + thank you to @qiuweyballs for the inspo i hate you (endearingly)

if u liked this reblogs are appreciated <3 catch the rest of my atsv headcanons here! love ya

960 notes · View notes

zoeykallus · 4 months

Note

Hm? *gets hit in the face with a note* GAH- *opens the note* another request? But it’s with- *ahem* “I request Reader x Crosshair but make it with Pheromones please-” Oh no…

Aloha!

You are getting a lot of those notes, aren't you? 😁 Well, as it happens, I actually have an idea for a scenario like this, I'm telling you I gathered the wildest ideas in my fever dreams 😅

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot -

______________

Warnings: 'Good old' Pollen Trope/ Smut/ 18+/ Bondage/ Dubious Consent/PiV Sex/ Dirty Talk/ Strong Language/ Oral/ Feral Crosshair/ Graphic Description Of Sexual Actions/Overstimulating

______________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

______________

AC: I feel like I've not written anything like this in years. Which of course isn't true, but it still feels like it. But I think I like what came out of this.

Crosshair keeps sneezing as you make your way back from your little expedition. The rest of the group is on an errand with Rex and his shuttle. You and Crosshair have stayed behind. Curiosity has driven you into the surrounding landscape of the Marauders' landing site. Even though Crosshair has no interest in the surrounding flora and fauna, he reluctantly came along, saying, "I guess I can't let you go off on your own. If anything happens to you, I will never hear the end of it when the others come back" You take off your gear when you get back, at least the things you don't need at the moment, as he sneezes again. Crosshair sighs and rubs his temples. You frown critically and say, "You should have used an air filter, like me" "Nonsense," he grumbles. "Well, I don't have to sneeze," you reply, shrugging your shoulders. He rolls his eyes and waves you off. "Just some pollen, nothing more, it'll be over in a minute" You pick up your data pad and say, "Some pollen can be dangerous, Cross"

When you call him by the pet name you're the only one to use, he rolls his eyes again, but he doesn't complain. He doesn't want to admit it, but somehow he likes that you've given him a nickname. It shows that you like him, and he likes the idea, but he won't admit that either. You browse through some information about the planet, especially the fauna, and suddenly stop. Something you've discovered makes you nervous. "See," he says contentedly, "it's stopped already, I don't have to sneeze anymore, it's all half as bad" When you don't answer, he turns back to you after taking off his armor. "Since when are you so quiet?" Again, you don't answer, you're engrossed in the information about a particular plant you've found. "Hey, Kitten," he says impatiently, "are you even listening to me?" You look up and ask him critically, "Why did you take off your armor? It's the middle of the day" Crosshair shrugs and says, "It's warm in here, and it's more comfortable without it" You say critically, "I don't think it's warm in here" He grumbles, "Well, I do"

"Any other symptoms?" you ask, a little alarmed. Crosshair reaches for your holopad, takes it from your hand, and skims the article you've just read. Depending on the amount of pollen inhaled...Heat flushes, sneezing, headache, followed by extremely increased libido, sexual desire bordering on animalistic proportions, loss of control... High probability of becoming a danger to yourself and those around you. If left untreated, the condition ends in extremely high fever, which can lead to brain damage or even death. No medical treatment options. Only treatment option is sexual relief (sexual intercourse/sexual acts that lead to repeated orgasms) "What the hell are you reading? Is that a guide to one of those dirty little stories you sometimes write?" Startled, you stare at him. "What?" Crosshair smirks, shrugging his shoulders in a suggestive manner. "Well, you fell asleep writing the other day and your pad was still on, just lying there. I took a quick look over it. It was pretty clear quickly what you were writing" You feel hot and cold, you're not sure exactly how much he's read, and you wonder if he realizes that you're imagining him as you write. But another thought outweighs your shame, your worry.

You scroll back up a bit on the pad that's still in his hands, point to the picture of a flower and say, "No, that's an article about this plant. We walked through a field of these flowers earlier while you weren't using an air filter. You're already showing symptoms" Crosshair blinks, skims the text again. "Oh," he says quietly. He tosses the holopad onto your bunk, rubs his temples again and looks around. He can feel it now, slowly at first, gradually but steadily increasing. His body temperature is getting higher, his thoughts are getting mixed up, there is a penetrating buzzing behind his temples, and there is clearly a very physical desire. "I need you to cuff me, for your safety. Where are my handcuffs?" Crosshair hears a click, then feels cold metal. You've cuffed his own wrist and chained him to the weapon rack. "I'm ahead of you," you say softly. "Clever girl. But that won't be enough. You have to tie me up properly"

„Properly?“, you ask, frowning.

Crosshair nods and says, "Yeah, I can open handcuffs without a key if I have one hand free" You mumble with a grin, "Sneaky bastard" "Shut up, kitten," he says calmly, with a little smirk, pointing to the other bunks, "Better find something to tie me up before the symptoms get worse" Unsure, you go to the drawers and side compartments of the other bunks. You find some more handcuffs and chain his other wrist to the weapon rack on the wall. Crosshair groans softly, a bulge has already formed in his Black's pants. He is far too warm in his skin and his cock is as hard as a diamond.

For a second you just look at him, his slender, wiry but stealed figure chained to the weapons rack at the wall. His shoulders down to his hips forming an apetizing V-line. "Okay, so far so good," he says tensely, "But that's not enough" You frown, but finally get two more cable ties and tie his legs to the frame on the wall. Crosshair stands there, as if nailed to a cross or pilloried, except that it is a weapon rack that is firmly anchored to the wall. "Fuck," he moans softly. Automatically, he writhes in his restraints, his clothes, the pants of his Blacks rubbing over his hard cock, eliciting another soft moan. He is extremely sensitive at the moment.

"But what now?" you ask anxiously, straining not to look down between his legs. "I can't hurt anyone now," Crosshair says and swallows. He means you, he can't hurt you now, he can't do anything against your will, you realize. "But... We have to do something, you could die or suffer permanent damage from this condition," you say nervously. You can see that he can barely think straight, that he would love to tear himself away if he could. But he smiles at you and says, "You're not worried about me, are you?" "Of course I'm worried", you say, almost indignant he might question this. He licks his lips, his mind a jumble of images of nudity, physical contact, of him sinking his cock inside you, in pretty much any of your holes that would do. Crosshair blinks a few times, trying to collect himself. "Well, you can help me now, but on your terms. I can't force you to do anything, that was important to me. Hence, the shackles. It was clear to both of us long ago that I still need your help now. Unless you want me to die, or my mind to turn in to a vegetable" Heat rises in your cheeks. You've imagined being with him so many times, but not like this.

He laughs softly as a drop of sweat rolls off his forehead. "Now you can live out some of the fantasies you love to write about. Honestly, I always knew you had a naughty spirit in you" The thought, the question of how much he has really read of your stories and perhaps even diary entries that are on the same data pad, comes to mind. You swallow and look at him, chained there. Your gaze does wander down to the enormous bulge in his blacks. You hear him purr, "Okay kitten, your attention is already going in the right direction" He strains against his restraints, automatically wanting to reach for you, but to no avail. A small frustrated growl comes out of his throat as he realizes once again that he is not able to touch you right now. No matter what you do now, no matter what you're both about to do, this isn't going to be romantic, nothing loving, that much you both realize. But contrary to your expectations, the thought doesn't repel you, actually, there's something appealingly wicked about it. As you sink to your knees in front of him, a shiver runs through his body in aroused anticipation. He can barely move, only his pelvis has a little room to move forward, and he stretches out towards you in invitation. "Be a good girl, help me"

You look up at him uncertainly, in his gaze you not only find confirmation of what you are about to do, it is a feverishly hot gaze, full of expectation and challenge with which Crosshair looks down at you. You reach for the waistband of his Blacks' pants and slowly pull them down. As the fabric brushes over his skin, over his hard cock as you free it, he trembles excitedly. It stands right in front of your face, thick, veiny, with a slightly reddened, swollen tip. His testicles are bulging. His cock twitches with every breath you take, because he can feel every waft of air. "Do it," he demands in a smoky voice, his eyes glazed over with desire, "suck me good" You wonder how he would talk to you at a moment like this if he wasn't under the influence of the pollen, but only for a second. You've always been curious about a sexual encounter with Crosshair, and his cock looks gorgeous. Your hand reaches for it automatically, and you're almost shocked at how red-hot it feels. His temperature is rising, no time to hesitate. Your tongue twitches over his velvety, swollen tip, catching a salty drop of pre-cum. "Fuck," Crosshair growls, his pelvis twitching, "come on, kitten, it's getting unbearably hot under my skin"

You don't think about it for long. Your lips open, your tongue outstretched, pressed against the underside of his cock, you take him into your mouth. Your head moves back and forth, bobbing back and forth with his cock between your lips. At first, you're so far back that, despite his relative freedom of movement with his pelvis, he has no control over how deep he penetrates your mouth. But it feels surprisingly wonderful, the sounds he makes, moaning, growling, whimpering. You can feel your panties getting wet and a tingling sensation between your thighs. Your pearl swells, pulsating gently at first, but demanding, longing to be touched, stimulated. On impulse, you move closer, giving him more room to move. As soon as he realizes that he can penetrate deeper on his own, he greedily pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, down your throat, almost to the hilt. Your eyes immediately start to water, but you don't pull back, you let him have his way with your mouth. He pulls his pelvis back and forth, thrusting deep again and again until your face is wet with tears and saliva drips from your chin because you can't swallow everything around his thick cock. Crosshair stares down at you, his gaze full of fire, glassy and dark.

He gasps excitedly, "I knew there was a dirty thing somewhere inside you, look at you eagerly sucking my cock. I wish I could record this, so I could watch it over and over again, how perfect this image looks" You don't have the time or the opportunity to object, nor do you want to. Your hand automatically slips into your pants and under the fabric of your panties. You can feel the heat emanating from your pubic area on your fingertips even before you touch your clit. There it is, finally, the touch, a shiver runs through your body. The touch your pearl has been longing for. Your fingertips glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, as Crosshair's cock pushes up to the gag reflex again and again. You keep sucking at him, almost hungrily, like there is no tomorrow. Crosshair fucks your mouth restlessly, his pelvis shaking with every thrust, his arms tugging at the handcuffs again and again. Then he sees your hand in your pants, something about the sight pulls him over the edge, with a low growl, he spurts his load down your throat. You swallow hastily as he leaves your mouth and take a deep breath.

"A good little dirty thing you are. Look at you, not only did you suck my cock like an addict, you touched yourself" His gaze is still glassy, feverish, full of heat, a dangerous, knowing grin on his face. "Untie me, kitten, and I'll give you what your little pussy needs," he coos. His words roll over your skin and down into your pussy, where they trigger a pulsing, demanding twitch. Contrary to any fear or uncertainty about his condition, you cut the cable ties on his ankles. Then you grab the key for the handcuffs, you hesitate only briefly, barely noticeably, but then you unlock the handcuffs. You don't even have time to be surprised. Crosshair immediately peels you out of your clothes, partially tearing them as he loses his patience. He pushes you towards the bunk in front of you until you automatically climb onto it on all fours to avoid falling over. "That's it, keep sticking your gorgeous ass up, show me your little pussy," he growls in a smoky voice.

With the flat of his hand, he gives you a gentle pat between your legs. "There it is," he coos contentedly, "soft, warm and wet" One of his fingers slides along your velvety folds to your heated opening and sinks greedily inside. You moan as he sinks a second finger between your slick walls. "You're hungry for my cock, aren't you?" You moan a yes as you thrust your buttocks towards him. All you hear from him in response is a growl. You feel him pull his fingers from you and as you look over your shoulder, you see him licking your juices from his knuckles. "Actually, I'd love to lick your little honey pot, but I just can't wait, I can't," Crosshair says a little breathlessly as he parts your wet folds with his tip and with a smooth thrust fills your pussy to the brim with his cock. The sensation is intense, his hard, thick length filling you up, stretching your wet hole.

His fingers claw into your hips, not exactly gently, as he begins to move, pulling his pelvis back only to thrust into you again. He moans and curses, the feel of your wet heat enveloping him so incredibly intense, his cock so incredibly, unusually sensitive. His grip, his nails, are sure to leave a mark, but you're far too horny to mind. His thrusts are short, he never pulls far out of you, but he thrusts into you quickly, panting, clutching at you. His pelvis slaps your backside again and again, the sound fills the room, accompanied by moans, growls, whimpers. Crosshair doesn't feel like his temperature is dropping, he's more in control than he expected, but his hunger hasn't abated one bit. He growls, gives you a slap on the ass and murmurs, "You like that, you've always wanted my cock inside you" You are so lost in your excitement that at first you don't even realize what he is saying. When you don't answer immediately, he grabs your neck and pulls you towards him so that the back of your head is against his shoulder.

"Say it!" he growls, his hand still on your neck. Crosshair doesn't really squeeze, just applies enough pressure to make it clear that he wants your attention. "What?" you ask hoarsely, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you again and again taking over your entire mind. "You've always wanted my cock inside you. Say it! I want to hear it," he moans urgently. You gasp. "Fuck. Yes, I've always wanted your cock inside me, deep inside me," you croak, moaning. You yelp as he gives you a particularly hard, deep thrust and pauses in this position for a few seconds. His thighs tremble for a moment, a half-suppressed moan comes from his throat, then you feel his semen shoot into you. You're both breathing heavily, Crosshair growls softly. "Still feverish, still hard, I guess I'll have to make your wet dreams come true a little longer"

He pushes you off him, onto the bunk you're kneeling on, and turns you around, gripping your hips. Crosshair grabs the back of your knees to hold your legs up and apart. The next second, he's thrusting his cock into you again, accompanied by the dirty, wet sound his hard length makes in your pussy filled with your juices and his seed. Each thrust makes that lewd, wet sound, you feel his seed and your juices partially dripping out of you, onto your buns and onto the sheet beneath you. After all, you're in your own bunk. But this fact startles you all the more as Crosshair reaches purposefully to his right and pulls open a small drawer. He pulls out a small object and grins with satisfaction. "I knew you had toys here, I heard them vibrating under your blanket the other night" He moves his cock slowly inside you as he looks at the toy, and the heat of shame rises in your face. "What exactly does that thing do?" he wants to know, his gaze fascinated but still feverish, glassy. You swallow and say meekly, "It sucks the clitoris into this little opening and vibrates as it does so"

He raises his eyebrows and looks past the toy at you. "Is that good?" "My favorite toy," you say, still meekly. He looks down, positions the toy so that it can suck your clit perfectly and turns it on, turning the power up quite high. The toy sucks in your clit and vibrates on the sensitive bundle of nerves, immediately sending a pulse through your whole body. You let out a startled squeak. In combination with his thick cock inside you, the additional stimulation from the toy is very intense. Your hands claw into the mattress and sheets as he starts to thrust into you again. "Fuuuuck," you moan out. Crosshair takes you again faster, harder and growls, "That's more like it"

Your mind dissolves into nothing, the thought of how he sees you right now, that he knows about the toy, that he knows you've been secretly masturbating here under the covers, all swept away in one swoop. The stimulation is too intense, your whole body vibrates, trembles, tenses with arousal. "You're close," he moans, realizing, "I can feel your sweet pussy contracting" The stimulation, his words, the sound of his voice, all at once your climax washes you over the edge, and you fall into a pulsating tangle of over-stimulation. Automatically, you want to reach for the toy to remove it, but Crosshair's hands shoot forward, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. "Fuck! Crosshair, that's too much, the toy!" you gasp breathlessly, twitching and writhing, the sensation far too intense.

He pushes himself deeper into your lap, takes you faster, with shorter, firmer thrusts. He stares at you, something about the way you squirm and twitch, the thought that you are helplessly at the mercy of this over-stimulation turns him on. It doesn't take long, his thrusts become irregular, his lap trembles between your twitching thighs, and he cums inside you again. You're still whimpering and squirming, finally he lets go of you, and before you can remove it, Crosshair releases you from the toy. You breathe heavily, sighing with relief. You look up, his gaze no longer glassy and feverish, more scrutinizing, brooding, as you know him to be. "Sorry," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "but it was incredibly hot to have you under me while you were twitching under the over-stimulation, one hell of a turn on." You roll your eyes and sigh, "I'm glad you enjoyed it" "You had your fun too, didn't you?" he growls sarcastically, "Or did you just get me untied to see what would happen?"

You can almost feel an argument brewing, but you don't want to argue, especially not now. You try to distract him. "How are you feeling now? Headache, fever?" Crosshair senses that you're trying to avoid the discussion, but he answers you anyway, "I'm fine, I think, no fever, no headache, no other symptoms either." You nod, climb out of the bunk and say, "Good, I need to use the refresher for a while, I need to clean myself up" But Crosshair blocks your path to the refresher. You hastily grab your bathrobe and put it on as you realize you're both still naked. "You haven't answered me yet," he says stubbornly. "What?" "Whether you had fun"

You clear your throat and say, "I had an orgasm, if that's what you mean" Crosshair frowns. "No, that's not what I meant, at least not exclusively." You lick your lips and avoid his gaze, but he gently but firmly grabs your chin, yet your eyes continue to avoid his. "Kitten? Look at me." His voice sounds so unusually gentle that you automatically look at him. "I just want to be sure that I didn't overstep any boundaries and that you didn't come away unsatisfied, as you know I didn't really have complete control over what happened." You look at him wide-eyed, then feel heat rising in your cheeks as you say meekly, "I had more fun than I want to admit"

A smile creeps onto his face. "I knew that. Good girl. Come on now, let us go wash you" You raise your eyebrows questioningly. "Us?" Crosshair grabs your hand and pulls you into the refresher with him. He winks at you, "We made the mess together, so let's remove it together. Come on, don't act like you don't want to be sponge-washed by me"

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316 notes · View notes

lawrites · 4 months

Text

Rubens Can Suck It!!

Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader

You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.

This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.

It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.

As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.

You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.

And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.

And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.

Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.

While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.

So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.

After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.

You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.

What is always found on the ground

But never gets dirty?

You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...

"Shadow!" You blurt out.

He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"

You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"

He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."

You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."

He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."

Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."

You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."

Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"

You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."

Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"

Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.

You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."

And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.

He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.

Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.

-----------------------------------------

Rubens

Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.

A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-

Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.

There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-

Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.

Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.

Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.

And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.

Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.

He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.

-------------------------------------

And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.

Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.

You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.

You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.

Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?

There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.

Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.

You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.

Tap tap tap

You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."

But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.

"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."

You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.

But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.

"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.

Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.

You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."

This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.

"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."

He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."

You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.

When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"

You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."

You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."

You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.

Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.

"While you are not seen by others as a beauty

I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.

Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,

I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."

Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.

Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"

You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"

Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."

Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"

You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."

Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.

Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.

After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.

He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"

You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."

He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"

You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.

One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."

You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"

He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."

You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."

And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.

You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."

You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."

He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"

You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.

"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."

He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"

You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."

You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.

"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."

Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.

---------------------------------------

#lawrites #plus size reader #x reader #reader #plus size fic #gotham #gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #gotham rogues x reader #gotham edward nygma

155 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 10 months

Note

OHOHOHO, I absolutely LOVE the idea of an unhinged, yandere omega. Who would ever suspect the 'soft little omega' as an actual danger? What can they do, cmon, you should be flattered~

Or even if it's someone like Miguel as an omega, despite him being Absolutely Huge and totally able to crush you like an empty soda can there's this... lingering /urge/ to protect and serve him that he takes full and absolute advantage of.

Like, say he decides he needs an assistant to help him keep track of his busy schedule and any objections you come up with straight up don't matter because He's An Omega and you Have To Help Him. Or just kind of plucks you up one day and informs you you are now on call for his upcoming heats- what're you gonna do, tell this 'clearly vulnerable and fragile' Omega you aren't interested?

You can be chatting to someone and have him come up and literally drag you off and EVERYONE dismisses it or blames you for setting off his fucking 'nesting' instincts like he's not a grown ass man capable of making his own damn decisions.

Or even him pheromone bombing you to make you all pliable and agreeable when he needs it. His Alpha is getting fussy? He just forces your face into his neck until you go all soft and dazed and fuzzy, letting him do whatever he wants because you're just absolutely punch-drunk.

Anon you are opening my mind's third eye right now, there's a post I think about from time to time and it was kinda about gender roles and like certain things being subjective and it was someone going "am I still butch if I have plushies all over my bed" and someone replied something like "dude that's butch as hell, you have all these cute tiny creatures you're being a guardian of and feel protective of"

You're just a female Alpha trying to mind your own business and one day you get a good WHIFF of those Certified Omega Miguel Pheromones and suddenly your stupid ass Hormone Brain is going "hey, hey, you know what would be very Alpha of you. If you took care of that Omega by getting pregnant and giving him a baby. Don't you want to give the Omega a cute little baby or two to take care of and give kisses to and buy little baby clothes for? Don't you want to see his big strong arms holding a lil teeny baby? He'd be SO HAPPY if you gave him a lil baby. Just one. Or a few. Provide for your Omega by taking a fat cream pie from that man. Dont you want the Omega to be happy" and from then on your coochie/instincts are like screaming out half the time you're around him

I guess it can kind of vary depending on how "all consuming" you prefer like heats and ruts and pheromones to be/have an effect on you

And like, yandere and not wanting anyone else besides you or not, I'm sure like he has plenty of fans right but he probably intimidates the fuck out of most people so, you know, he probably intimidates most Alphas too

You're helping him in his office and you can tell he's got a bad migraine from being light sensitive and suddenly you're overwhelmed with the urge to rub his back and ask if he needs anything. You're bringing the man food and drinks every so often and make sure to ask him when he's got enough sleep. One may think, "oh you're a submissive Omega serving and obeying your Alpha" nah son YOU'RE the Alpha and like yeah you are being just nice and compassionate but, you're PROVIDING for him

Fucking nesting ass Miguel. It depends on preference since with ABO sometimes you know, Things Are Different Downstairs, we all need a little girldick from time to time, but, him developing the nesting instincts not even for himself he's like preparing for YOU to be pregnant. Scurrying around making sure his home is well stocked and rationed up like he's a squirrel storing for the winter because, he doesn't want his Alpha to not be able to soothe all her cravings 🥺🥺🥺 that would make him a Bad Terrible Horrible Omega and also you need the utmost care for the baby/babies/pups/whatever word you prefer

The pheromone bombing, godddd. Even if you're still mad and upset I imagine from a biological standpoint that it would at least like, help your body stop like reacting to any negative stress, like how you can be anxious or you can be Anxious Anxious where you're literally having heart palpitations and your chest feels tighter, like, he doesn't want his Alpha to be too stressed 🥺 you want him to bake you some sopapillas or something?

Lyla all "heyyyyy call me crazy but I think judging by the way Reader is so antsy and stockin up on food lately that SOMEONE is about to have their rut ;) maybe you should pop on for a visit"

Miguel: I dunno if I should

Lyla: why, because its questionably ethical and she might sleep with you when she's not in the right state of mind?

Miguel: no because what if I can't please her in bed and she doesn't like me 🥺👉👈

This man sees you holding Mayday ONCE and suddenly he's got a mental catalogue with all the different ways your potential babies could look. Would you let him name any of them Gabriella after his daughter or Gabriel after his brother? Would they have your eyes or his? Hair color? What if you spit out an Alpha with his height? Or maybe you two would have cute Omega babies just like their mom. He's just sitting there mentally going 🥰🥰🥰 while Lyla is snapping her fingers in front of his face "Hey, Hey, Earth to Planet DILF, you've never even kissed her yet, buddy"

Your rut hits and you're isolated in your Nueva York cyberpunk apartment which or course he has the pass key for and, "oh gosh Reader are you ok-- oh no you're suddenly pushing me down and ripping my clothes off, oh noooOoooOoo I sure hope you don't get prrrrregante, I didn't bring any protection 👉👈 *wink wink*"

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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persephonememes · 8 months

Text

* ( GUTS BY OLIVIA RODRIGO / SENTENCE PROMPTS.

These may have been edited for clarity or length or to better apply for roleplaying.

❛ i pay attention to things that most people ignore ❜

❛ i'm alright with the movies that make jokes about senseless cruelty ❜

❛ i feel for your every little issue ❜

❛ i know just what you mean ❜

❛ i make light of the darkness ❜

❛ i've got sun in my motherfuckin' pocket ❜

❛ you know me ❜

❛ i forgive and i forget ❜

❛ i know my age and i act like it ❜

❛ i've got what you can't resist ❜

❛ i got class and integrity just like a goddamn kennedy ❜

❛ i'm a perfect all-american bitch ❜

❛ i know my place ❜

❛ i don't get angry when i'm pissed ❜

❛ i'm the eternal optimist ❜

❛ i scream inside to deal with it ❜

❛ i'm grateful all the time ❜

❛ i'm sexy and i'm kind ❜

❛ i'm pretty when i cry ❜

❛ haven't heard from you in a couple of months ❜

❛ i'm out right now and i'm all fucked up ❜

❛ i'm sensing some undertone ❜

❛ i'm right here with all my friends ❜

❛ i know we're done ❜

❛ i know we're through ❜

❛ my brain goes 'ah' can't hear my thoughts ❜

❛ i cannot hear my thoughts ❜

❛ i should probably not ❜

❛ seeing you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? ❜

❛ it's a bad idea, right? ❜

❛ fuck it, it's fine ❜

❛ yes, i know that he's my ex. but can't two people reconnect? ❜

❛ i only see him as a friend, the biggest lie i ever said ❜

❛ i just tripped and fell into his bed ❜

❛ now i'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans ❜

❛ i know i should stop, but i can't ❜

❛ i told my friends i was asleep but i never said where or in whose sheets ❜

❛ i'm sure i've seen much hotter men but i really can't remember when ❜

❛ how's the castle built off people you pretend to care about ❜

❛ i see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when i close my eyes ❜

❛ i loved you truly ❜

❛ you gotta laugh at the stupidity ❜

❛ i've made some real big mistakes but you make the worst one look fine ❜

❛ i've made some real big mistakes ❜

❛ i should've known it was strange you only come out at night ❜

❛ i used to think i was smart but you made me look so naïve ❜

❛ the way you sold me for parts as you sunk your teeth into me ❜

❛ bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire ❜

❛ every girl i ever talked to told me you were bad news ❜

❛ you're so convincing ❜

❛ how do you lie without flinching? ❜

❛ how do you lie? ❜

❛ what a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked up little thrill ❜

❛ i can't figure out just how you do it and god knows i never will ❜

❛ you went for me and not her 'cause girls your age know better ❜

❛ you said it was true love but wouldn't that be hard? ❜

❛ you can't love anyone 'cause that would mean you had a heart ❜

❛ i tried to help you out ❜

❛ i tried to help you out now i know that i can't ❜

❛ how you think's the kind of thing i'll never understand ❜

❛ aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? ❜

❛ did i ever tell you that i'm not doing well? ❜

❛ i linger all the time ❜

❛ i linger all the time watching, hidden in plain sight ❜

❛ i try but it takes over my life ❜

❛ i see you everywhere ❜

❛ the sweetest torture one could bear ❜

❛ i'm losing it lately ❜

❛ i feel your compliments like bullets on skin ❜

❛ aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist? ❜

❛ my stomach's all in knots ❜

❛ you got the one thing that i want ❜

❛ people are people, but it's like you're made of angel dust ❜

❛ it's like you're out to get me ❜

❛ you poison every little thing that i do ❜

❛ i just loathe you lately ❜

❛ i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you ❜

❛ i despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you ❜

❛ i don't think i get along with anyone ❜

❛ i'm on the outside of the greatest inside joke ❜

❛ i hate all my clothes ❜

❛ it feels like my skin doesn't fit right over my bones ❜

❛ so i guess i should go ❜

❛ the party's done, and i'm no fun ❜

❛ i broke a glass, i tripped and fell ❜

❛ i tripped and fell ❜

❛ i told secrets i shouldn't tell ❜

❛ i stumbled over all my words ❜

❛ i made it weird ❜

❛ i made it worse ❜

❛ each time i step outside it's social suicide ❜

❛ i wanna curl up and die ❜

❛ i laughed at the wrong time ❜

❛ i talked to this hot guy, swore i was his type ❜

❛ everything i do is tragic ❜

❛ the morning after i panic ❜

❛ oh god, what did i say? ❜

❛ when i'm alone, i'm fine ❜

❛ don't let me out at night ❜

❛ i'm shocked i'm still alive ❜

❛ i called you the wrong name twice ❜

❛ i want it, so i got it ❜

❛ another thing i ruined, i used to do for fun ❜

❛ another conversation with nothing good to say ❜

❛ another day pretending i'm older than i am ❜

❛ another perfect moment that doesn't feel like mine ❜

❛ sometimes i feel like i don't wanna be where i am ❜

❛ i push away all the people who know me the best ❜

❛ it's me who's been makin' the bed ❜

❛ i'm so tired of being the girl that i am ❜

❛ every good thing has turned into somethin' i dread ❜

❛ i'm playin' the victim so well in my head ❜

❛ every night, i wake up from this one recurring dream ❜

❛ i read somewhere it's 'cause my life feels so out of control ❜

❛ i tell someone i love them just as a distraction ❜

❛ they tell me that they love me like i'm some tourist attraction ❜

❛ i got the things i wanted, it's just not what i imagined ❜

❛ i'm counting all of the beautiful things i regret ❜

❛ i'm pulling the sheets over my head ❜

❛ you're so good at what you do ❜

❛ you come for me like a savior ❜

❛ i'd put myself through hell for you ❜

❛ i fell for you like water ❜

❛ i couldn't get out if i tried ❜

❛ it was all in my mind ❜

❛ now you got me thinking ❜

❛ love is never logical ❜

❛ all the things you did to me ❜

❛ you lied ❜

❛ i'm sure that girl is really your friend ❜

❛ you said i was too soft ❜

❛ why do I do this? ❜

❛ i know i'm half responsible and that makes me feel horrible ❜

❛ i know i could've stopped it all, god, why didn't i stop it all? ❜

❛ i met a guy in the summer and i left him in the spring ❜

❛ i wanna make him feel bad ❜

❛ i wanna make him really jealous ❜

❛ i really miss him and it makes me real sad ❜

❛ i want sweet revenge ❜

❛ i want him again ❜

❛ i want to get him back ❜

❛ i write him all these letters, then i throw them in the trash ❜

❛ i miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh ❜

❛ he said i was the only girl, but that just wasn't the truth ❜

❛ i am my father's daughter, so maybe i could fix him ❜

❛ i wanna key his car ❜

❛ i wanna break his heart ❜

❛ he's not even gonna know what hit him ❜

❛ he's gonna love me and hate me at the same time ❜

❛ i don't know ❜

❛ i told my friends you were the one ❜

❛ i stayed in bed for like a week ❜

❛ when you said space was what you need, i waited by my phone like a goddamn fool ❜

❛ love's fucking embarrassing ❜

❛ how could i be so stupid? ❜

❛ you found a new version of me ❜

❛ what was i even doing? ❜

❛ i give up ❜

❛ i give up everything ❜

❛ i keep coming back for more ❜

❛ i have nightmares each week about that friday ❜

❛ one phone call from you and my entire world was changed ❜

❛ you took everything i loved and crushed it in between your fingers ❜

❛ i doubt you ever think about the damage that you did ❜

❛ i hold on to every detail like my life depends on it ❜

❛ i hear your voice every time that i think i'm not enough ❜

❛ i try to be tough, but i wanna scream ❜

❛ how could anybody do the things you did so easily? ❜

❛ i say i don't care, i say that i'm fine but you know i can't let it go ❜

❛ i've tried for so long ❜

❛ it takes strength to forgive, but i don't feel strong ❜

❛ i try to understand why you would do this all to me ❜

❛ i know in my heart hurt people hurt people ❜

❛ do you think i deserved it all? ❜

❛ you built me up to watch me fall ❜

❛ you have everything and you still want more ❜

❛ even after all this, you're still everything to me ❜

❛ i know you don't care ❜

❛ there's always something missing ❜

❛ when pretty isn't pretty enough what do you do? ❜

❛ i could change up my body and change up my face ❜

❛ i'd always feel the same ❜

❛ you can win the battle but you'll never win the war ❜

❛ fix the things you hated and you'd still feel so insecure ❜

❛ i try to ignore it, but it's everything i see ❜

❛ i don't know why i even try ❜

❛ i bought all the clothes that they told me to buy ❜

❛ i chased some dumb ideal my whole fucking life ❜

❛ none of it matters and none of it ends ❜

❛ you just feel like shit over and over again ❜

❛ when am i gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise? ❜

❛ when am i gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys? ❜

❛ when will it stop being cool to be quietly misunderstood? ❜

❛ i'm sorry that i couldn't always be your teenage dream ❜

❛ when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough? ❜

❛ will i spend all the rest of my years wishing i could go back? ❜

❛ they all say that it gets better ❜

❛ it gets better the more you grow ❜

❛ it gets better, but what if i don't? ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #meme #memes #roleplay meme #ask memes #lyric meme #lyrics #guts #guts olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo

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thefrogdalorian · 4 months

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Dincember Day 17: Joy

Word Count: 2886 Rating: General Summary: Despite you and Din having plans to go to a special festive market with Grogu, you wake up feeling awful, as though all festive cheer has been sucked out of you. Fortunately, you have a loving and caring Mandalorian who helps you regain your joy. Content Warnings: Reader is having a bad day, discusses feelings of being a burden and things of that nature so proceed with caution. But it has a happy ending! Author's Note: Well, this was a very alternative interpretation of this prompt. I guess my brain just went, "Joy?? In this economy??" lmao. Just wanted to write a little fic for anyone who struggles to feel festive at this time of year, for whatever reason (or maybe none). My heart goes out to you, you can feel 'broken' if you aren't happy 24/7 at this time of year but I promise there's nothing wrong with you. There's a lot of pressure out there to be happy like in the movies. But life and emotions aren't straightforward and don't magically become so just because it's the holiday season!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

As soon as your eyes fluttered open and the first rays of light streamed in through your eyes, you felt a sinking feeling in your gut. You just knew it was going to be one of those days that you dreaded. You had a fun day out planned with Din and Grogu to visit the special market that was visiting Nevarro for Life Day. But that seemed like an insurmountable feat now, given your mood. It was one of those days where you felt awful for no apparent reason and everything seemed that it required substantially more effort. As though all the joy that you had been working so hard to make Din and Grogu feel this festive season had suddenly been sucked out of your soul without warning.

You lay there for a few moments, shutting your eyes and inhaling deeply as you hoped that this feeling would pass. But you continued to feel awful. Your head throbbed, your stomach was churning and your heart felt heavy. You instinctively knew right away that you would have to let Din down, there was no way you would be able to join him at the market. You felt terrible about it, but you would just lie and claim that you had a headache in a bid to get him to leave you alone to wallow in your misery.

Fortunately, you were facing away from Din and he did not know that you were awake. You heard the familiar sounds of him entering the fresher to begin his morning routine and get ready for the day. You stayed in the cot, covering yourself with more blankets, trying to cocoon yourself in their warm embrace from the harsh, cold outside world.

Din eventually made his way back into the room and noticed that you had not moved from the cot, as you usually did when you heard him stir. As he padded towards you, you realised that he still thought you were asleep. He had no idea. The guilt threatened to overwhelm you.

“Good morning, cyare,” Din whispered, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Are you ready for the market?” Din sounded so excited and it made you feel terrible that you were about to let him down. You knew he had been looking forward to this. Here he was, a man who had never really celebrated Life Day before, yet was still excited for so many new traditions. Here you were, at what was meant to be your favourite time of year, yet you could not even rouse yourself to get excited and join him and Grogu at the market.

You could not respond to him with words, so you continued to lie there, turned away from him as your face was streaked by the hot tears that had formed in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Din asked, he sounded so concerned about you, that your chest ached from the guilt of not being honest.

“I just don’t feel well, I woke up and my head hurts. I think I’m coming down with something,” You said, not turning over to face him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. “You and Grogu go ahead, I don’t want to spoil your day.”

“You’re not spoiling our day if you’re not feeling well, there’s nothing you can do about that,” Din said soothingly. “I won’t go if you’re sick, I’ll stay here and look after you.”

But the sorrow that you had just been feeling was suddenly replaced with panic, there was no way you wanted Din to stay here and fuss over you. You loved him so much and never doubted his love for you either, but with the mood you were in, that kind of affection and attention was deeply unsettling to you. You turned over, panicked at the prospect of him staying, and finally faced him.

“Look, Din, I’m just going to lie here all day. There’s no point in you staying. Really,” You said firmly, finally meeting his eyes. “I feel a migraine coming on and I’ll only feel worse if you don’t go and have fun,” You finished. The tone of voice left no room for debate and you just hoped that Din would not argue with you and make this more difficult than it needed to be.

“Alright,” Din said, voice and eyes filled with uncertainty. “But if anything changes, promise me you’ll call me on your comlink?” Din said, referring to the device that linked directly to his helmet for short distances, such as when you were both on Nevarro.

“I promise,” You nodded, meeting his eyes with the amount of sincerity that you knew would reassure him, even though you had no intention of actually following through.

“Okay, thank you,” Din said, exhaling in relief. “I’ll come in with Grogu and say goodbye before we leave.

Then he left the room to get Grogu ready to head out to the market. You breathed a deep sigh of relief that he had thought better of fighting you on this matter. Din knew that sometimes your moods could slip into melancholy when the gloom threatened to overwhelm you. But he probably did not expect it to come at this time of year, after how excited you had been for the festive season. Coming clean to him about it later would be difficult for you, but for now your main priority was that he did not waste any time on you. You were certain that you did not deserve his concern.

It was one of your worst traits, the urge to push people away when you felt terrible. The fact that you felt like a burden, a leech who was sucking all of the joy out of the festive season. Most of the time, the rational side of your brain functioned well enough to remind you that thinking like that was absurd. Din cared about you absolutely and would never view you as a burden. But today, something went wrong. Your brain was not being kind to you, making you focus on the bad rather than the many reasons you had to be happy.

Din carried Grogu into the room, and you felt cheered up slightly by the little boy’s presence. He was so cute and loving that spending any amount of time with him was always sure to make you feel slightly better, even if only temporarily.

“Grogu wanted to see how you were feeling,” Din offered as he approached your side of the cot, handing Grogu to you as you sat up in bed.

“Aww, thanks buddy,” You smiled, despite how awful you felt. “I have a sore head, but I’m going to take it easy today while you and your father go and have fun at the market. Don’t nag him for too much candy!”

“He won’t listen, despite those big ears,” Din huffed as he took Grogu back from you and brought the little boy close to his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek. It was what Din wanted to do to you, but he was scared of upsetting you further. “See you later, I hope you feel better,” Din added, smiling at you weakly.

“Thanks. Hope you both have fun,” You returned the weak smile and watched as the two left you behind to your own self-pity.

For a while you lay there motionless, beating yourself up for being so selfish and not telling Din how you were feeling. But then you consoled yourself with the knowledge that he would not want you to feel bad on account of his feelings. You would be honest with Din later, you would let him know the reason behind why you had really wanted to stay behind and hide away from the world. For now, there was nothing you could do. You were comforted by the knowledge that at least Din and Grogu would be having fun at the market. That was the most important thing to you.

An indeterminate amount of time later, you finally decided that you should make it to the fresher. You could not face a proper shower, but you washed and put some clean garments on, even if they were just a different pair of the soft cotton clothes you slept in. It was the most you were going to be able to achieve for one day and that was alright. At least you were trying. You knew Din would be pleased to see that you had managed to make it out of your room, at least.

But all progress was soon halted when you made it into the main room of the cabin and noticed a sight that caused a lump to form in your throat. It was a sight that provoked memories of better times when you had felt happier and festive. It was the lights that Grogu had strung inside your cabin at Din’s insistence, the lights that you had danced and cuddled underneath. Seeing them now, when you felt like this was like a punch to the stomach. You felt utterly floored. Any positive thoughts about yourself from the small victory you had managed in getting up and about were gone in an instant.

You sat on the couch under the multicoloured lights and sobbed.

The touch of Din’s soft leather glove brushing against your cheek was the next thing you were aware of. You must have drifted off to sleep at some point because rather than being alone in your melancholy, two pairs of big brown eyes were now staring at you concernedly. As you sat up on the couch, you felt lightheaded. Your eyes were puffy and swollen from crying, your lips swollen from the dehydration caused by such a crying spell.

“You’re back?” You whimpered, taking in the scene before your eyes.

“Oh, cyare, you promised you would call me,” Din whispered quietly, his voice full of hurt at your betrayal.

“I’m so sorry, Din,” You whispered, eyes filling with tears at how hurt he looked. “I’m a horrible person, I don’t blame you for being mad at me.”

Din exhaled deeply, his fist clenched by his side at your words. “You are not a horrible person, you are anything but. Let me put Grogu down and then I’ll come right back.”

You heard Din’s footsteps disappear down the hallway to Grogu’s room and tried your best to steady your racing heart. Despite his reassurance, you still felt terrible and you had not managed to calm down by the time Din made his way back to you, now dressed in the cotton clothes he slept in. You suddenly noticed how dark it was, they must have been gone for hours.

“Sorry we were gone so long, we ran into Greef and he ended up insisting we join him for dinner,” Din explained, as he took a seat on the couch next to you, as if able to tell that you were wondering the reason for his prolonged absence.

“It’s okay, Din. I’m glad you had a good day,” You said honestly. Despite how bad you were feeling, you would never resent Din for having fun.

“The market was enjoyable, plenty of stalls. But you know how Greef is. He wouldn't take no for an answer, even though eating in front of others is a hassle for me.” Din remarked, addressing the logistical problems his helmet often created. “Enough about our day, though. What is really going on with you?”

“I just woke up feeling terrible Din, I didn’t want you to worry. It was just easier to say I felt like I had a migraine coming on than being honest,” You said, struggling to make eye contact with him and look into the warm brown eyes that usually held so much love and affection for you, though you were now certain were going to look at you with disdain.

“But you looked like… when I got back here, it looked like you had been crying?” Din said, his voice pained.

“It’s just all this pressure to embrace the festive joy, today was meant to be happy and fun and I just… I woke up feeling as far from joyous as a person possibly could, but I was too much of a coward to let you know,” You admitted. “I’m so sorry, you must hate me right now.”

“No, I don’t hate you,” Din said, holding your hands in his and turning to face you. “I love you completely, cyare. I’m not mad at you, you know that, don’t you?”

“I guess…” You replied, without conviction.

But Din was not satisfied with such a response. He released your hands and held your head in his hands, making sure that you were looking at him as he addressed you. “Listen to me,” Din said calmly, “I love you and I’m not mad at you. I’ll keep saying it until it sinks in.”

“Din…” You breathed, touched at how caring he was towards you. You were mistaken too, there was no disappointment detected in those brown eyes.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Din said, releasing your face and gathering you into his arms as he punctuated each utterance with a kiss on your cheek.

“Okay, Din!” You giggled breathlessly. “I get it, you love me! I love you too.”

“Good. And I’m not mad at you,” Din added.

“And you’re not mad at me.” You confirmed.

“I’m glad we established that,” Din said, leaning back against the couch and bringing you with him so your head rested on his chest.

“Me too,” You breathed.

“I don’t want you to ever doubt my love for you. It is not conditional, even if you have an off day in the festive season, or any season. I was excited to go to the market today and Grogu still had fun, but I was thinking about you all day,” Din admitted. “I wouldn’t have been thinking about you if you were such an awful person, would I?”

“No, Din,” You breathed. “I know how much you love me. I wish I had just been honest with you, I know you wouldn’t have gotten angry with me.”

“This time of year can be difficult for people for many reasons. You aren't the only person who is struggling. Look at me, I never celebrated any of these traditions, there have been so many times recently when I’ve found myself grieving for all of the years I’ve missed,” Din admitted. “But I console myself by knowing that those days are behind me. Now, I have the rest of my life to look forward to with you. That fills me with joy whenever I feel bad.”

“Oh, Din. I'm so sorry you've been feeling that way. I had no idea,” You said, feeling your heart constrict at the image of him mourning for the years of lost traditions. “You’re right though, we have lots of years to fill with love and joy to make up for lost time.”

“We do,” Din agreed. “So many years left to love each other unconditionally. I love you.”

“I love you too, Din,” You giggled, pushing yourself up off his chest to look into his eyes. “You don’t have to keep saying it, I know.”

“Oh, but I want to,” Din smirked, “I. Love. You.” Din repeated, this time kissing you softly between each word.

You sighed and smiled, almost forgetting how awful you had felt for so much of the day. But Din’s comforting presence and soothing words had done wonders for your mind and soul.

“There’s that smile I missed” Din said, smiling back at you which only made you smile harder. “How do you feel now?” Din questioned.

“I guess… As you said before, being reminded of your love for me makes me feel… joy,” You admitted shyly. “Just complete happiness and pure joy at knowing how loved I am, as corny as that sounds.”

“It’s not corny at all, cyare. I’m so happy to hear that you feel that way,” Din beamed. “And I will never stop trying to make you feel joyful, for the rest of my life, all year around… even when it isn’t the festive season,” Din vowed.

Any promise Din Djarin made was always followed with as much sincerity as a man as honourable as he could muster, which was a lot. So you had no doubt that you would spend the rest of your life with him feeling exceedingly loved and joyful, even if there were momentary blips such as parts of today.

As you lay back against Din’s firm chest and cuddled up to him again, you reflected on how thankful you were that a day which had started off so terribly had taken such a positive turn. It was all thanks to the love of the man who was holding you safely in his arms now. The emotion that knowing Din loved you completely provoked in you a feeling that it had seemed you would never feel again only a few short hours ago.

Cuddled up to him beneath the multicoloured lights, safe in his arms and in the knowledge that Din loved you completely made you feel festive once more. You felt pure joy.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics

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oleander-nin · 10 months

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The Weight of a Letter(3)

A/N: Y'all I don't know a thing about basketball. My bad. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger

Part 1 - Previous - Next

Words: 3617

Content warnings: mentions of stalking and paranoia, elevators, mention of not wearing a seatbelt(wear your seatbelt or I will smack you), my writing, multi-chap fic

Summary: The first one I received was innocent. Nothing more than a love letter from a secret admirer. But as more letters came, so did the fear and paranoia. Guess secret admirers aren't so romantic after all.

Chapter 3: A Watchful Eye

Silencing the countless reminders and notifications I had set to remind myself of Irma’s basketball game, I continued eating my breakfast. I chew through my cereal, scrolling through various social media apps as I wait for my brain to reboot. My head was heavy and throbbing slightly, most likely from dehydration. This morning was hard to recuperate, it was like my body shut down after the stress from last night. I frown, closing my eyes as I try to process my emotions. I knew this was coming for months, but now that they actually left? Nothing felt real. I thought I would feel more free, no longer having my parents constantly looking over my shoulder and monitoring everything they did, but instead I felt numb. The world was too slow and fast at the same time, everything was too quiet but oh so mind numbingly loud. I didn’t like being alone. I didn’t want to be alone. Maybe Irma would stay over with me for a bit.

My phone buzzes again, another notification popping on my screen and bringing me out of my head. I tap on the messaging app, grinning at Irma’s good morning message. My leg bounces a bit as I wish her luck on the game and tell her my estimated time of arrival at the school. My phone gets set on the counter as I stand, my hands clasping above my head as I stretch and pop my back. I move through the kitchen, blinking tiredly as I set my cereal bowl in the sink. I quickly wash it, not wanting to cause a pile up of dishes for me in the future. If it sat in the sink for more than a day, I knew I would never touch it.

I move back to my room and grab my planned clothes, moving to the bathroom to take a shower with the bundle of clothes in my arms. I set my outfit in the sink, making sure it was dry before I did so. I look at the mirror for a moment, scanning my face. My hand comes up to touch my cheek, pulling at the skin as I tilt my head. My eyebags were evident, sleepless nights catching up to me and shouting my bad sleeping habits from the top of their lungs. I sigh, turning away from the mirror with a small frown. It would be fine, I just needed to ignore it. I will sleep better tonight and sleep in tomorrow. It would be fine.

I step into the shower, flinching slightly when the cold water from the shower head hits me. I reach my hands up to scrub at my hair, trying to ignore the bite of cold from the water. I dump a generous amount of shampoo in my hand, running it through my hair as the water finally starts to warm. Steam slowly rises from the water, filling the room with its heavy fog. I let the water run down my back for a moment, sighing softly as my hands rest at the base of my neck. I needed this, my brain finally calming as my eyes shut. The water continues to thrum against my skin as I continue to wash myself, being mindful not to slip on the tiles that lined the floor of the shower.

I turn off the shower head, turning the knob until water stopped coming out. I run a hand through my hair, trying to dry it a bit before stepping out, water dripping off me and onto the small mat protecting the floor. I wrap a towel around me, drying off while I run a brush through my damp hair. Satisfied with the less tangled strands, I set the brush down and change into my outfit. The bright purple and red colors of our school adorn the jersey I wore over my hoodie, Irma’s number shown big and bright on the front. I run my hand through my damp hair one last time, trying to relieve some of the energy building up in my chest. My head buzzed with thoughts, not resting for even a moment. I needed to go, Irma was waiting. I walk back through the apartment and into the kitchen, grabbing my phone and slipping it into my pocket along with the keys I threw in the center bowl on the table.

I exit my apartment and lock the door behind me, resting my forehead against the cardboardy wood for a moment. I push myself off and start to walk down the hall and to the elevator. I hit the button once, moving to the side in case anyone needed to exit when the doors opened. The elevator arrives with a small ding, and I enter into the contraction, pressing the button for the first floor before moving to a corner and trying to press myself into the wall. The small chimes of a marimba sound as the elevator moves down. It was nice, being able to stand there for a moment with the light music sounding. The elevator doors opened again, allowing me to exit. I rush out, keeping my head down in case one of the older residents tries to rope me into a conversation.

The cool air of the outdoors hits me, the sky overhead cloudy and dark. Outside was damp, the sky showing signs of rain that threatened to fall. I scan the clouds for a moment, grimacing. I didn’t want to get caught in the rainstorm. I start to walk towards the school, debating whether or not I needed to run. I roll my shoulders before sighing. It was a ten minute walk to the school, and I didn’t trust those clouds. But if I ran, I would get winded by the time I was at the school and possibly sweaty. I didn’t want people to stare. But they would also stare if I was sopping wet from the rain. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before nodding to myself. I would walk until it started to rain. Hopefully It would all work out in my favor.

I take one step when I feel a drop hit my head. Then another. Then another. I start to sprint towards the school as the sky opens up, unleashing its anger on the world as lightning starts to light up the world in place of the sun. I stick my hood over my head and run, grimacing as water starts to soak through my clothes. This was just my luck. I huff as I keep running, my arms pumping at my side as I stride forward in quick succession. A ten minute walk turns into a five minute run, my sneakers skidding on the pavement as I reach the school. A familiar chill runs down my spine, my head whipping around to look for eyes. I see nothing, only seeing cars pulling up with kids coming to watch the game. I scan the rooftops, thinking I would see the shadows as always, but the nearby buildings held none.

I open the door to the school and enter, the cold of the AC making me shiver. My dampened clothes clung to my skin, my hair pasting itself on my forehead and neck. I wipe my wet hands on my shorts, the squeaking of my shoes echoing through the dark halls of the school. I duck into the gym, making my way into the bleachers as I scan the bobbing heads on the court for Irma, both teams warming up with hoop shots and runs. I sit at the top, leaning my back against the white concrete wall of the gym. Taking off my wet hoodie, I sigh a bit. Being damp was not ideal. Hopefully I would dry off a bit during the duration of the game. I take the jersey off the hoodie and slip it over my shirt, holding my hoodie in my lap. The referee blows their whistle and the players line up, Irma shaking hands with the other captain. I lean forwards, resting my elbows on my knees as I watch the game start. Irma ended up being the one to get the ball between the captains, having jumped higher than the other and won the tip-off.

Watching Irma play was like watching a fish in water. She moves fluidly with her team, the ball seeming to be more of an additional limb than a random orange rubber ball. Irma had always tried to get me into basketball with her. I had tried, when we were both back in middle school, but had given up after the ball rebounded from the backboard and went straight into my face. My nose was broken and my pride was too shattered to try and join the team. I played still, of course. Just never on a team. The local basketball court was my preferred way to play the game Irma and I's rounds of horse and around the world being superior to the actual game.

I cheered loudly when Irma got another basket, her lanky body dropping back to the ground after gravity caught up to her. I was convinced Irma was more rabbit than human, her quick movements and high jumps seeming inhuman. The game was going fast, Irma's team dominating as always. She passes to one of her teammates, who turns around and shoots the ball. I wince when she misses the basket, understanding her embarrassment. The opposing team gains the ball and the game goes on, Irma’s team doing their best to stop them from scoring a basket.

I watch the game with a wide grin, excitement building up in my chest, the impressive way the girls moved on the court sending shivers down my spine. My leg bounces, a constant thud of my sneakers against the metal of the bleachers bringing some peace to my jittery nerves. My hair raises on end while I watch, my brain stuttering to a halt. I glance around, peeling my eyes from the game and to the crowd, searching for the eyes I could feel burning into me. Down at the opposite bleachers, my eyebrows furrow as I make eye contact with someone who was shrouded in shadow, their face barely peeking out from where they hid under the bleachers. My heart sinks into my stomach as I continue to stare back at the figure, my mouth gone dry.

I couldn’t make anything out about them, their body distorted by shadows and the metal seats of the bleachers. I could tell they were wearing a purple hoodie, but that was it. I shift uncomfortably, looking back at the game as I try to focus once more. Irma’s team won the first half, taking a ten minute break for intermission. A part of me wanted to go down to Irma and tell her about the figure, to recruit her help in finding the person who was hiding under the bleachers. I glance back at where they were but see… Nothing. No one was there. I squint at the gaps between the seats, trying to find the mystery person. I couldn’t see anything, no one was there.

I huff a bit, annoyed with myself. Of course they weren’t there, I was just seeing things again. I stand up and set my hoodie down where I was sitting, making my way down the bleachers to go buy some food from the concession stand. I wait in the short line while scanning the poster board menu, thinking over whether I should buy the slice of pizza or the hot dog.

I make my order, eating my food as I walk back over to the bleachers. My eyes drift over to the opposite side, looking at where I saw the figure standing. Watching. A shiver runs down my spine as I think about it, the feeling of the shadowed eyes raking over my skin was nightmare fuel. I quickly scarf down the rest of my food, wiping my mouth with the back of my wrist as I walk over to the opposite side of bleachers. I duck under them, looking through the shadows to see if I could find any proof of the figure. My hand rests on one of the poles holding the seats up, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I stare into the empty space. Nothing was here.

Sighing in defeat, I turn around. Running my hands through my hair, I walk out from under the bleachers and back towards my seat, patting at my legs as I do so. I pick back up my hoodie and sit down, leaning against the wall. My eyebrows furrow as I continue to stare at the spot the figure stood, racking my brain for a reason. Was I really just imagining it? It was plausible, knowing my history with the many shadows this past few months. Maybe my paranoia was just spiking and my brain filled in the blanks. I roll my shoulders and pop my back, my attention turning to the third quarter of the basketball game. It didn’t matter, nothing was there. It was just my imagination playing tricks on me. Again.

The last two quarters of the game go by fast, Irma’s team dominating as always. I stand up as the game ends, walking down the bleachers to stand on the sideline while all the players shake hands. Irma talks idly with her teammates, drinking at her water as she bounces on her feet. I see Irma’s dad in the bleachers, his arms crossed as he watches the players and audience disperse. Her dad meets my eye, a smile spreading across his face as he waves. I wave back. I was happy he came considering how much he worked. He was a trucker and was constantly on the road to deliver whatever he was hauling. I was surprised I didn’t notice him earlier, his large build and bushy red beard were quite eye-catching.

Her father finally stands up as Irma yells up at him, waving her long arms in a wide arch. Her father beams at his daughter, his booming voice sounding as he shouts back his praise. His sure steps thud slightly as he walks down the metal bleachers, his heavy work boots not helping the sound. Her father was always loud, his voice no lower than a boom. He was big, both in personality and person, able to captivate an entire room in an instant.

I watch awkwardly as her dad picks Irma up, swinging her taller form around with ease as she laughs. His large hand ruffles her head, a small pit of guilt forming in my stomach. I wanted my parents to act with me like that, to hold me and celebrate my achievements. Irma’s dad might not always be with her in the moment, but he tried his hardest to support her in every opportunity. I admired that, his determination to make her as proud of him as he was of her. I remember when we were kids, taking us to the park to run around, how he gave Irma her first basketball and taught her how to play.

“You’re in your head again, you okay?” Irma’s dad takes me out of my thoughts, his large hand clasping my shoulder tightly as he shakes me gently. His gruff voice was comforting, Irma’s head poking over her fathers shoulder while she stares down at me. I shake my head, a wide grin spreading across my face. I shouldn’t envy Irma for her dad, considering he took me in as his second child years ago. He taught us both to drive, taught us both to cook, taught us both to live. In every way that mattered, he was my dad too. As far as he was concerned, I was just as much his kid as Irma. Especially considering he started introducing me as his kid years ago.

I shake my thoughts away, grinning up at the pair. “I’m all good Mr. Campbell, thank you.”

He nods, clapping me on the shoulder twice before straightening up. “Call me Tony. I’ve known you since you were born, you don’t have to be formal.” He says, as he always did. Irma’s dad hated the formality, hated the responsibility that he claimed came with ‘Mr’. His name was Antonio and he refused to even go by that, always saying it was ‘too fancy’ for him. I’ve only seen one person use his full name without correction, and that was the principal. He didn’t like the principal.

Tony grabs both me and Irma by the shoulder, pushing us in front of him. Irma laughs slightly, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me forwards. Tony follows behind, Irma starting to babble on about her game. I listen closely, grinning as I compliment her on her impressive playing skills. We make it to the entrance of the school, Tony’s blue 1987 Chevy Silverado sitting in the parking lot. I look at it for a second, tilting my head. Tony notices my look, opening the door and ushering us in. “I thought we’d go for ice cream. I know you two go out for dinner after a game, but I wanted to take you both to ice cream for celebration. Do ya mind movin’ ya’s dinner t’ ‘morrow?"

“Not at all.” I say, sliding into the middle ‘seat’ of the Chevy. It’s more of a couch than a car seat, and I pull the small seatbelt over my lap while Irma buckles in on the passenger side. She was taller, so she got the side seat, her seatbelt pulling crossbody. Irma’s dad grabs the frame of the car, using the momentum of his pull to get into the car. He slams the door shut, jiggling it to make sure it was in place and wouldn’t swing open mid drive. Irma pulls out her phone and starts checking her notifications, leaning on me as she scrolls through her apps. Her eyes flick to her dad as he starts the engine, her brow furrowing.

“Seatbelt, dad.” She reminds. He grumbles, sticking his tongue out at her. I grin. Mr. Campbell was always fun.

“Can’t, ’s not fat friendly,” Tony pats his large stomach, frowning slightly as he puts the car in gear. “And the dang things are useless in this truck, they don’t lock like a normal cars.”

Despite his argument, he puts his seatbelt on, pouting like a small child. He was always one for car safety, being a trucker himself, but he always had a hard time with the seatbelt in this truck. It was tight over the lap and loose over the body. Tony’s larger frame made it more or less choke him whenever he tried to change gears. I lean back on the plush seat, looking over Irma’s shoulder as she scrolls through her phone.

“Why’d you go under the bleachers during the intermission?” Irma asks, glancing up at me inbetween her rounds of her phone’s game. I wince slightly, rubbing at my neck.

“Thought I saw someone down there. My eyes were playing tricks again.” I explain. Irma nods, patting my knee in quick comfort. Tony glances at me, a small frown bringing his lips down.

“You still seeing them shadows?” He asks, not moving his gaze from the road in front of him. I nod, fiddling with my fingers. Tony blows air out while his mouth is pressed together, making his lips rumble in a small vibrating noise. “Try put’ta mask on ya’s noggin’.”

I snort slightly. “That’s for tigers.” I say, shaking my head with a grin. Tony shrugs, patting the steering wheel.

“If it works, it works.” He says simply. Irma puts her phone back in her pocket, turning her attention to the both of us. The buildings went past as Mr. Campbell continued to drive, his hands steady on the wheel.

“Do you want to stay with us tonight?” Irma suggests, looking at her dad in case he denies her suggestion. Tony seems to brighten at the suggestion instead, nodding eagerly.

He claps his hand as he pulls into the parking lot of the ice cream store, grinning widely at his daughter's suggestion. “Yes, yes, great idea. I was gonna make a big pot of spaghetti, and we need someone to help eat it. Plus, your’s parents left last night right? It’s only best you stay with us.”

I laugh slightly, Irma shaking her head at her dad’s enthusiasm to have me stay. We walk into the ice cream shop, waiting in line as her dad starts talking excitedly about the dinner he was planning on making. Irma leans into me, whispering softly as she watches her dad talk. “He wasn’t planning on making spaghetti, he just wants you to stay the night. He’d adopt you if given the chance.”

I snort at that. Tony had been trying to get me to call him dad for as long as I remember, joking with my parents at every chance that he’d just steal me so he could have a second kid. We move up to the counter, ordering our ice cream and Tony finally stops his spaghetti talk. We sit down at one of the booths, digging into our respective cones. Irma asks about a new pin on her dad’s hat, Tony starting on a new story about his trucking adventures and the gas station he got it from. I settle into the booth, eating my ice cream with a smile. Even if my own parents left, I would always have Irma and her dad keeping me close. Everything would be okay.

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kelocitta · 9 months

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Favoritism O-02-32 Personal Log 01 - Control Team Personnel Liar (Cont)

Against my wishes I have been reassigned. The abnormality is too aggressive towards our highest ranked staff, and lower ranked staff are unequipped to deal with it. Its a pain for anyone to deal with, so they're putting it off on me. Acceptable losses I guess.

My sister let me in on a secret though. The selection process barely looks at rank qualification- its all focused on picking out people least likely to get attached to the thing. How that is even a problem I don't know. Its ugly and creepy, and as far as abnormalities go it doesn't even have mind powers, as far as I know. Corpses aren't exactly endearing, even without being vermin infested. Could be worse I guess.

O-02-32 Personal Log 02 - Control Team Personnel Liar

It was my first contact with the thing, and it was boring. You would think it had finally died for good, sitting crumpled in the corner. I wasn't given any special assignments, so I just sat there for basic observation while the stupid little rodents wiggled around under the fabric. Maybe the skeleton twitched once or twice. I suppose I should be thankful for a boring assignment considering what exciting entails. I know its completely brutalized some unfortunate coworkers before. Whatever though, didn't die.

O-02-32 Personal Log 07 - Control Team Personnel Liar

The routine seems fine. The gear they've given me makes being in the same room as it more bearable, and during one of our later sessions it even gave me a little crown. Its kind of cute honestly- where do abnormalities even get their gifts? They aren't produced by the company. I heard one theory that they're objects of significance to the things, but even with it wearing its own im not sure it even has the capacity for sentimental feelings. They don't have brains, much less emotions. Its blind instinct. Feels kinda silly how much we match now though. Feels like a bad joke.

O-02-32 Personal Log 10 - Control Team Personnel Liar Working with it every day has to be bad for my health. It behaves exactly like an abnormality- that senseless pattern of routine they follow. I know it like the back of my hand at this point. But sometimes when I'm in that unit and its in it's corner- it looks at me. It's not like the first day where it was clear there wasn't anything with any sense of self. Its just bones and rodents, but it doesn't feel like it anymore. There's something else there, buried under it, something I feel like I shouldn't be seeing. Being in there makes me depressed and frustrated and I can't even place why.

… Tomorrow I'm going to ask about reassignment.

#oc: rat king #drew a random grunt. thought about it too much #their name is liar off of one of my old lc nuggets named library #yeah library #and their sister ruina #anyway its important to remember the rat king is not rat nor person. its an abnormality and driven mostly by its trauma of creation #said trauma including a lot of rats and a lot of people and a lot of anger #yay residual sense of human self(s)!#scribbles

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aaronsrpgs · 8 months

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A Worksheet Manifesto (Rough Draft)

The Worksheet Manifesto is an attempt to explain why I'm moving my game design toward something I can print for free at the public library and give away. It's not a scold or a call to action; I buy full-color zines and hardcover books, and I support people charging for their work. This is a personal manifesto—an exercise in self-exploration.

The first reason I pursue this is ACCESS. I want people to be able to find and play my games. (Accessibility is maybe a better word for this, but I don't want it confused with the process through which something is made easier to use for people with disabilities.)

Some of the main barriers I've seen are financial (someone can't afford my games), technological (lack of computers and/or printers makes it more complicated to read my games), and international (shipping to someone outside the U.S. is prohibitively expensive).

Combining these three elements, I realized I wanted my games to be cheap or free. The common "community copies" solution on itch.io is much touted, and for good reason, but as I tried explaining the process to friends who weren't familiar with the site (or who flat-out aren't tech savvy), many responses were confused or frustrated. So I've set most of my games to pay-what-you-want with a suggested price.

Going from computer tech to printer tech, my most recent games were laid out in black and white, without ink-sucking textures (although some still have large spots of black in the art--something I continue to consider). Many American libraries offer limited free printing, and I always hope people will "utilize" the printers at their jobs or schools. I want people to be able to easily print out my games and share them at the table or pass them to friends.

And more selfishly, I hate dealing with fulfillment and shipping. It's stressful for me, it requires money up front to print things, and I'm bad at it, which means shipments go out slow, or not at all if someone lives outside of the U.S. Creating a file that's easy to print hopefully encourages people to create their own copies.

These cheap print copies also hopefully contribute to a feeling of DISPOSABILITY. I grew up with comic books, magazines, newspapers, and mass market paperbacks, and I think these cheap, short slabs of culture helped them feel like someone could engage with them without having to be fancy or educated or in the know. (A lot of us gatekeep ourselves!)

Prices for RPGs, like so many nerd collectibles, have steadily risen at least since the start of the pandemic. Crowdfunders often capitalize on FOMO, encouraging people to go all in on deluxe hardcovers with fabric bookmarks or whatever. And if my experience working at a used game store is anything to go by, lots of those fancy editions go right onto the bookshelf, unread. Don't want to break the spine or get fingerprints on it!

And I guess I'm just against consumerism? If someone wants a nice thing, I hope they get it, but a culture of games as luxury items and status symbols is not something I'm interested in.

So if someone has a game of mine and they don't want it anymore, I hope they pass it on, put it in a little free library, or recycle it.

And those dirty little printouts of my games? I want people to touch them and write them. I want TACTILITY. This is partially a usability issue: 300-page hardcovers are hard to find information in, and they're heavy if you have to lug them to a friend's house.

So I try to design games where everything a player (including the GM) needs is on, at most, three sheets of paper. I want them to be able to spread a couple pages out and take in the shape of the game they're about to play. I want them to circle things and make notes in the margins. Moving a pencil around does wild things to your brain, the same way that picking at a guitar or molding clay does. It focuses attention in interesting ways.

And in the end, you hopefully have a personalized article of play. And if you spill beer on it, no one's worried about replacing that $50 hardcover.

Speaking of beer, I want my games to be available to and contribute to COMMUNITY. As the pandemic started, I retreated into lots of online spaces, and those were absolutely vital to my survival. But I lost touch with lots of my friends and acquaintances in my city. I want to reconnect with them.

One of my favorite cartoonists, Mark Connery, is known for drawing little zines and just...leaving them all over. Coffee shops, art galleries, bathrooms. And when I think of him, I think of an artist responding directly to the places around him. Is it sad that some of this work is probably "lost" to all readers other than the person that happens across the zine? A little bit. But I think that comes from a bad part of my brain, the part that wants to own things.

I certainly don't want the entirety of my own work collected and widely distributed. Some of those things were specific responses to specific times that I've moved past. Some were bad! But I want to keep responding to my specific times and my specific place. I want to give things to friends (even if they just pass them on or recycle them). I want to give a game to someone at a zine fest and have them recognize my name from a zine they read in a coffee shop bathroom. And maybe they'll give me a zine in return.

My last hangup is MODULARITY. First, similar to tactility, I want to be able to give a player only the rules that matter to them. Character creation and basic rules? Here's a page. And once you're familiar with that and we've entered a downtime phase, here's a page with those options. You want to start a farm? Here's a page. I want it to feel like printing coloring pages for kids or ripping out my favorite magazine articles. These are the parts that matter. And if they stop mattering, you can get rid of them.

But I also want modularity on a system level. I want to add a subsystem to game as I think of it. I want to throw in an adventure pamphlet when it comes to me. I can keep them all in a little box, like a care package from my past self, and when it's time to run a game, I can dig around like a verminous animal and build my nest out of the best bits.

In CONCLUSION, I want to reiterate that this is a personal practice, and I'm not criticizing people who work differently. I used to work differently, and in the future, I'll probably work differently again.

This is simply the way I've identified what's important to me, set that up against the things that cause me to stumble, taken advantage of the privileges I have, and tried my best to bring that all together in a way that keeps me excited about my own work.

#ttrpgs #indie ttrpgs

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