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lost-girl-2021 · 1 year

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OMG, OMG, OMG

I apsolutly loved your Metkayina!Spider Human/Modern AU headcanons, like it gave me my daly dose of serotonin.

Can you maybe bless us with some more if it's not a problem?

I’m glad you enjoy my random ranblings lol! Here’re some more thoughts on Metkayina/Adopted! Spider. This first part is Modern!AU Foster Kid! Spider, I’ll upload a second part soon that’s post-battle on Pandora.

Spider doesn’t really know how to manage his hair at all. (In my Modern AU’s, Spider has hair kinda like Olan Prenatt (Mid 90s movie). Long, blond, and curly. He likes long hair, but doesn’t really know how to take care of it properly/doesn’t like ‘wasting time’ on hair care when he could be doing other things. As a result, he usually has a kind of frizzy mess, especially when he first wakes up.

I think he’d be too embarrassed to ask for help when he first starts living with them, but I aslo think that either Aounung or Ronal would offer him help at some point. Like, Aounung sees him using 3-in-1 Shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, and has a mini stroke. I think Aounung would be a lot more forceful/straight about it when talking to Spider. Something like “Dude, that shit you call hair care makes me want to shave your head. Sit down, we’re fixing this mess.”

Spider kind of just does his own thing most of the time when he starts living with them. Like, his past few foster homes were trash, to say the least. Maybe at the last place, if he wasn’t home by eleven, they’d just lock him out. Not even to be mean, but because they didn’t bother checking that he was even there. He’s used to taking care of himself, probably independent to a fault after so long basically alone.

A month or so after living with Ronal and Tonowari, he’s invited to the skatepark by a boy in his math class. It’s nearby the school, so he just texts his foster siblings that he doesn’t need a ride hime and they skate there after class. He hasn’t been to an actual skatepark in over a year, since his last placement didn’t have any nearby. They have fun, show each other tricks, and barely even notice the setting sun. Eventually, Spider’s classmate has to get home for dinner, but Spider stays a little longer. There are streetlights and he’s got the whole place to himself. Eventually, after a nasty fall ending in a possibly broken finger, he skates home. His phone died hours before that, but he hadn’t even noticed.

By the time he walks in the door, they’re about to call the police and his social worker and Tsireya looks like she’s about to cry. He’s bombarded with frantic worry, Ronal looking over his swelling hand with a deep frown, and he just doesn’t understand what’s wrong.

“I told Tsierya and Aounung I’d find my own way home.” He said in confusion, letting his foster mother usher him into a seat next to the kitchen table while Aounung gets the first aid kit. It was really aching down, pulsing with his heartbeat.

“Spider, it’s nearly eleven o’clock.” Tonowari rumbled. “We had no idea where you were.”

“I was just at the skatepark. I wasn’t doing anything bad.”

Tsireya sighed. “We thought you were hurt— you are hurt.”

“I just fell bad. It’s fine.”

It takes Aounung screaming at him that they were worried for him to start to understand. After that, he had to adjust to people . . . caring. Noticing him. He’s being noticed. It’s an alien thing.

Aounung is definitely a big brother to Spider, even if there's barely an age gap between them. They're literally in the same grade, but Aounung makes it clear to everyone that Spider is the younger one.

Someone makes fun of Spider? Aounung is about to start a fight in the middle of passing period. How dare someone mess with his little brother? Aounung, captain of the swim team, (nearly) straight-A student, is about to risk suspension to deck a freshman. Everyone thought he was overprotective of Tsierya? She understands her worth and knows how to kick ass. Spider? He's just a little guy with self-esteem issues. He does his kick-flips and needs help with his homework. He's oblivious to half the insults sent his way, so Aounung needs to be doubly aware of all of it.

This is all I have for the modern AU rn, but next up is post-battle!

#spider avatar #miles spider socorro #atwow spider #avatar way of water #spider #avatar fanfiction #avatar #atwow fanfiction #atwow

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 1 year

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Billy and stu with child!reader that has like a pinkie pie personality?

I dont remember mcuh about pinkie pie anymore I'm so sorry

Billy n Stu with jolly child! Reader (pla)

Thinks you're a literal angel. No really.

They dress you up in light colored or pinkish clothing sometimes. (Also bonus if you do like pink too!)

They would probably pick out the cutest my little pony toys ones and say its you.

And also compare you to the 1986 my little pony pinkie pie.

They sometimes hesitate on the teaching you to become like them plan they occasionally think about. What if it's too gruesome for you and you lose your happy, bubbly, optimistic personality? Billy thinks there will come a right time.

After any of them get sad or go into a bad mood they come to you, you're like a free dose of serotonin, their own flesh and blood. ♥

Because of your cute little personality they feel even more obligated to protect you until they can't anymore. </3

Stu definitely buys you hello kitty themed accessories or stickers. Billy might make fun of him or join him. There's no in between.

If you like baking too just like pinkie, they will be more than happy to help you. Billy teases you by putting the things you need at a higher shelf and watching you struggle while stu is just enjoying the moment.

A really cute hc is that you three will do baking competitions and no matter how good Billy's or stu's are they always choose yours. 🥹🥹

Sorry this was so short ahh

#slashers #ghost face x child! reader (platonic)#ghostface #billy and stu #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #stu my beloved #stu matcher imagine #stu matcher fluff

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eihwaz-y-d · 1 year

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Twin Skeletons

Part IV

Beginning Previous Part

People who wanted to be tagged: @queenieofsouls @my-mom-calls-me-rat @daemonlogical @crystaldrops20

Again: I know nothing and do what I want.

The petty criminals were quickly dealt with, Jason just needed to walk in the alley and as soon as the wannabe muggers noticed the Red Hood they ran like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Suits him just fine, now he just needs to deal with the teenagers with zero Self-preservation. Turning around he found himself facing the from the museum. The boy is hunched into himself and rubbing his temples as if to prevent or fight a bad headache, he pays no attention towards his surroundings at all. On closer inspection the kid does not look good, maybe he needs medical attention?

"Hey kid, are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?" the boy does not react at all. That is not a good sign, reaching out Jason tries again. "Hey kid?"

But as soon as his hand makes contact with the tens shoulder the teen reacts immediately.

The kids eyes flyes open -later Jason would swear his eyes flashed a toxic (Lazarus) green for a moment-, with one arm he beats Jason's hand off his shoulder and with the other he throws a punch towards his throat, then something like recognize, understanding and fear flickers other his face. He tries to pull his punch and let it land somewhere other than the throat, literally anywhere else. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, Jason didn't have the time to react at all. The punch hit him just under his throat where his neck goes into his breast. Jason staggers back, a breathless cry /groan leaves his lips and for a moment it's difficult to breathe again. The pit shrieks and wither in fear and tries to hide deeper before it goes eerie quiet again - It nearly feels like it is gone and never was there in the first -. It takes a moment before air fills Jason's lungs again, he rubs his throat before sitting up again.

A feral grin spread across his lips and Jason is glad for his helmet overwise he would look like a maniac. But Damn, possibly dangerous person or not, the kid is like a freaking messiah for Jason. One look and the pit trembles in fear and goes quiet, one punch and the pit disappears like it was never there.

He feels jittery and happy but also at peace. It's like he got dosed with Dopamine, serotonin and Endorphin all at once. He can't remember the last time he feels this good. There was pain he did not notice till it was gone. It feels like heaven. He is high on the best drug and probably already addicted to it.

" Damn kid, that was a mean punch." Despite the voice modulation his voice still sounds a little hoarse.

The black haired teen seems almost panicked in his worries. " I'm so sorry, by the Ancients, I didn't mean to punch you. Are you okay? Do you have difficulty with the breathing? Do you need a Doctor? Where do one find a doc-"

A low chuckle - the red hood does not giggle and if anyone would say so, Jason will call them a liar - cuts the rambling short. " Relax, kid, you didn't punch me that hard. I wasn't expecting it and you just caught me off guard. "

Danny narrows his eyes suspiciously, his whole body language screams mistrust. "Are you sure?"

"Yep." he answers way too cheerful for Red Hood's reputation as a crime lord but Jason simply did not care. He is still grinning like a loon under his helmet.

After a minute of silence and awkward looking around from Danny and open staring from Jason - who is here to call him out on it? Nobody, he can look all he like-, Jason decides to break the ice, Danny looks rather uncomfortable.

" Hey, you are the kid from the museum, aren't you? Did you get to see the exhibition you wanted to visit? "

" No."

" A shame, it's really good."

" just rub it in, will' ya?"

And Red Hood laughs again while Danny sulks.

" Whatcha name kid?"

"Danny"

" Alright Danny, what are you doing out here in the Narrows at this time?"

" I got out, then I was attacked by some kind of ninja. I ran and got completely lost but at least I think I lost the ninja dude."

" lost you say? Why are out and about anyway? Shouldn't little kids like you already been to bed? "

" I have no qualms with punching you again. Can you tell me how to get to the museum from there on I would probably find my way back. "

" I could take you directly to your hotel."

" Thanks but no thanks. Have you heard of stranger danger? You are not really easy to read with the helm and the voice modification. This doesn't really inspire my confidence in you. I don't fancy being kidnapped again. Just tell me what way to go and I'm not your problem anymore. "

So Damian kidnapped Danny and the boy got away? That is surprising.

Danny was once again holding his head and was breathing forcefully controlled, like he was trying to breath away pain.

And the moment of silence was back, then Jason reached for his helm and pressed the mechanism before pulling it off. Luckily he still wore his domino mask underneath the helmet. He did it without thinking and the bat would not approve but who cares about the bat anyway, not Jason, thats for sure.

"You don't look quite alright, let me help you?"

" it's just a headache, I'll survive. So? Which way now?"

Sighting, Jason pointed in the right direction. "That way."

Danny slowly moves towards the end of alley. "Nice. Thanks Mr Hero dude."

That brings a little smirke on Jason's lips. "You don't know who I am, or?"

Looking back other his shoulders Danny replies with a little grin. " No! But with hair like yours I'm pretty sure I would recognize you out of your hero outfit."

Shaking his head, Jason snorts. "Cheeky brat"

"At your Service." the Teenager has the nerves to bow mockingly towards him and than he was gone.

As Danny got back at the hotel, it was nearly half past four in the morning and neither his core nor his mind had settled and he didn't believe he could sleep without some nightmares so he would better not try to sleep. Sneaking back in was easy.

He took his sketch pad from his backpack and did was away does best after a nightmare, he let the memories take hold and just draw till his mind was quite again.

Soooo..... Fun fact. How Danny deals with his overwhelmed mind (and after nightmares) is how I deal with nightmares. I draw them and then they don't haunt me anymore. And one of my head canon of Danny Phantom is that Danny is really good at engineering. (in the Fenton household it is a necessary survival skill for Danny to be good at engineering, he needs to know how his parents technology works, how to manipulate the technology or straight up sabotage it so he dies not completely) but being good at engineering also means to know how to read the blueprints correctly or draw some himself, I think. And I assume one needs at least a little bit of drawing skills for that so for this fic Danny is decent at drawing and sketching.

And also. Someone once told me as I hit puberty if I am in the need of defending myself I should always goes for the soft parts like the throat and than run. So it becomes a habit of writing punching someone in the throat rather than punching in the face.

I hope you all enjoyed reading!

Edit : Next Part

#twin skeletons #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc universe #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #damian wayne #fanfiction #fanfic #work in progress

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edensbuttercups · 1 year

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Hello, back by no one's demand is ✨me✨!

Could I request #32 "why are you so cold" once more with Mr Garcia?

There's absolutely no presh, I just love you lots and hope you have a nice day 🥰

Incredible dose of serotonin you’ve supplied to me, just like you always do! ✨

This was a lot of fun to write, probably defrosted me from my little writer’s block/writer’s laziness, so also yeah, might not be super polished around the edges, but I hope you enjoy it either way 😌

(The formatting probably is chaos, since I’m publishing this from my phone, but 🥲)

Love you lots, hope your day goes great ♥️

Working at the Hard Deck wasn’t always the easiest, the Friday and Saturday night crowds being the worst to deal with, but it was still fun most of the time, working side by side with Penny, and getting to chat with the Top Gun squad here and there, the new squad welcoming you with smiles and jokes from the get go.

You wiped down the counter for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, not having much to do but sit, clean or be, since the few people there were satisfied with their drinks and the music, leaving you alone for the most part. Around 8pm Hangman and Coyote walked in, ordering a beer and making their way to the darts area, soon joined by Payback and Rooster, which not only meant having more chatter and general loudness, but also more movement for you, giving you something to do. Then, less than half an hour later, he walked in, the one wizzo you couldn’t help but like, chat with, the busy nights made funner with his jokes and flirting, and the quieter nights spent together talking about his job, what he could share at least, and his passions, his nerdy side never failing to come out.

“Hello, Bartender.” He hummed, leaning against the counter with a soft smile. You were thankful that not many people were around, allowing you to spend a little extra time chatting to him, not having to rush through his order like some nights. “You know, I do have a name” you teased, placing the cloth down in front of you, tilting your head from side to side to stretch, trying to ease some of the tension. “When you start calling me by my name, rather than my callsign, then I’ll call you by yours.” He grinned, challenging you gently, turning around when he heard Hangman cheer, probably doing his usual great job at winning at darts, judging by all the gloating he was doing. “So Bartender is my callsign? Seems awfully unimaginative, Garcia.” You teased back, reaching for a beer and opening it for him, setting it down on the counter. He still hadn’t given you the squad’s order, but you had spotted his empty beer earlier on, so you were sure this was what he was here for. “Oh, last name! We’re improving.” He grinned, tipping his beer up to thank you. “Shut up.” You chuckled, shaking your head and leaning against the counter, “anything else for the group?” “Beer for Hangman and Coyote, the others still have drinks. For now.” He said with a smirk. “Oh, so I’ll be seeing you again? How unfortunate.” You joked, leaning down to grab the other two beers and handing them to him, chuckling when he winked at you, making his way back to the back of the room.

As the night went on, the crowds grew thicker and the noise levels rose, but you found yourself constantly stealing glances at Fanboy whenever you had a moment to spare, him joining you at the counter ever so often to grab more drinks for everyone.

As the clock struck midnight and the last call was made, the bar started to clear out, the Top Gun squad being the last ones left. Fanboy walked up to you, his expression playful as the others slowly started filtering out, some quiet goodbyes thrown your way as the bell over the door rang. “Need any help?” He asked, passing you the empty bottles and waving at Phoenix as she walked out, then at Hangman, the last one out, leaving the two of you alone in the bar. “I could never say no to free labor.” You joked, passing him a damp cloth so he could wipe down the tables, glad to take the extra help, but mainly glad to get to spend more time with him now that your shift was over. As the two of you worked together to clean up the bar, you found yourself growing more relaxed, enjoying listening to him talk, his comments and stories about your and his interests, your favorite movies and books, your favorite songs, some to which you swayed to as you cleaned and tidied, and before you knew it, there you were, at almost 2 am and with everything cleaned up. "Thanks for your help, Fanboy. Maybe you didn’t make it a quicker job than what it would’ve been without your help, but you definitely made it more fun," you said, playfully teasing him while also smiling gratefully, truly thankful for the help.

"Anytime, Bartender. It was fun," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and I could’ve been quicker with my cleaning, but that would’ve meant spending less time with you.” he defended with a smirk. “Oh, is that so?” You asked, tilting your head and looking at him, before reaching for the keys to the bar, checking that everything had been taken care of before turning the lights off. He hummed, nodding, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on, holding the door open for you as you slipped out, locking it behind you and checking that it was closed. “Heading home?” He asked, frowning softly as he stepped outside, the difference in temperature noticeable, at this time of night. “Yeah. It's been a long day," you said, yawning and stretching, waiting for him to say his goodbyes, used to walking home alone. "Would you like me to walk you home?" he offered. “It’s pretty late, and I don’t want you walking home alone” he added, aware that you could take care of yourself, but still wanting to know that you were safe. That, and he didn’t want to leave your side just yet. You smiled, feeling grateful for his offer. "That's really sweet of you, Mickey." You hummed, using his first name, this time, feeling a little bold. “Hm. I like that. Sounds good.” he muttered, looking at you with a bright smile, “I like hearing you say my name.” You were thankful for the light surrounding you, his words making you blush and

The night air was cool, and you could feel the chill seeping into your bones. Fanboy noticed your shivering, turning to look at you with a frown, his hand finding yours and playfully hissing, intertwining your fingers together. "Why are you so cold?" he asked, your fingertips cold against his palm. You shrugged, assuming it was the general temperature of the night’s air that caused it, or maybe the tiredness. "Maybe you’re just hot." you chuckled, nudging into him and looking away. He smiled, shaking his head, “If that was true, then your logic should apply to the both of us, sweetheart.”

He took off his jacket and offered it to you. Smiling, you looked up at him, taking in the warmth radiating from his jacket as he draped it over your shoulders. It was soft to the touch, and the smell of his cologne clung to it, making your heart race a little faster. "Thanks," you said, your voice soft and hushed. He chuckled, his breath visible in the cool night air. "Just looking out for my favorite bartender," he replied, his voice low and warm. "Can't have you getting sick on me, now can I?" You rolled your eyes, looking at him, “You’re only after free drinks, huh?” you teased. He laughed, a deep rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "That's not entirely true," he said, grinning down at you. "I also enjoy your company." You smiled back, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Well, I enjoy yours too," you said softly.

The two of you continued walking, the silence between you comfortable and easy. The way his jacket enveloped you, keeping you warm and protected from the chilly night air, felt so cosy, making you relaxed as you walked. You breathed in his scent, a mix of musky cologne and a hint of smoke from the bar. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning into him slightly, wanting to be closer, glad when his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he talked, his chuckle making you smile. As you reached your front door, you turned to face him, feeling a little reluctant to say goodbye "Thanks for letting me walk you home," he said softly. You smiled up at him, feeling a little bashful with how close he was smiling, his hand slipping from around your shoulder and falling to your hand, instead, holding it softly. "Thanks for being such good company," you replied. For a moment, you both just stood there, the silence between you simple and comfortable, before your gaze met his again, smiling as he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to yours. A shiver ran down your spine, and you felt yourself surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. The softness of his lips against yours was everything you had ever wanted, and you found yourself deepening the kiss, wanting more.

The passion between you grew as his hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer to him. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your tongues danced together. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your cheeks flushed as you gazed into his eyes. Fanboy grinned down at you, his eyes sparkling. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he admitted, smirking. You laughed, nodding. "I'm glad you finally did," you said, reaching up to kiss him again. As your lips moved together, Mickey's hand slid up to cup your cheek as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. You felt his other hand slip around you, pressing you closer to him as his hand settled to the small of your back with a content sigh. His lips were soft and tender against yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back and deepening the kiss, savoring the sensation of his tongue dancing with yours. Your body hummed with pleasure as you felt his hands start to roam, exploring your curves and sending shivers down your spine. It felt like time stood still, you and him in front of your door, the cold night air forgotten as his hands and kisses warmed you up, the feeling of finally having him close making you dizzy. When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for breath, you looked up at him, dazed and breathless. His eyes were dark with desire, and he leaned in to press a series of soft kisses along your jawline, trailing down to your neck. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your skin, and let out a soft moan as he found a particularly sensitive spot. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him yet, unable to get enough of you. As he continued to kiss and nibble at your neck, you could feel your heart racing in your chest, the intensity of your feelings for him overwhelming you. It felt like everything had changed in an instant, but in the best possible way. When he finally lifted his head to look at you, his eyes were filled with tenderness and affection. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he repeated, his voice low and husky. "I'm sorry if I overstepped." You shook your head, a smile spreading across your face. "You didn't," you said softly. "I wanted it too." He smiled at that, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips once more. As he pulled away, he intertwined his fingers with yours, sighing softly. "I hate to do this, but I've got an early morning," he says, eyebrows furrowed, his hand still resting on your waist. "It's okay," you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. "We'll make it up another time." Fanboy’s eyes lit up, and he gave you a crooked smile. "You bet we will. Maybe I'll take you out on a proper date. Or maybe I'll cook for you." You couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Mickey cooking for you. "Just make sure it's spicy enough to warm me up," you teased, feeling a shiver run through you as he leaned in closer. Mickey chuckled softly, his breath hot against your ear. "I'll do my best. And if that's not enough, I'll find another way to keep you warm." He said, pulling back, his eyes flickering with a hint of mischief as he winked at you. "Until next time, beautiful." he hummed, placing another soft kiss to your cheek before stepping away, waving at you before walking his own way home.

You woke up the next morning, the light coming in from your window casting a warm glow on the room. Stretching languidly, you smiled as you remembered the evening you had shared with Mickey. You picked up your phone, smiling when you read his message, sent in the early hours of the morning. Good morning! :) I’ve been thinking about you all night, I had a great time. So, if you’re up to it, the offer for dinner still stands. Maybe tonight, if that works for you? You grinned as you read his message, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him, this time away from the bar. I’d love that, you typed, at what time should I come over? It wasn’t long until he answered back, telling you to come over whenever you wanted after six, knowing that’s when he’d be home after training.

You smiled and sent another message, spending the day relatively relaxed, showering and cleaning your place before getting ready when five rolled around, picking one of your favorite outfits and putting some makeup on, texting him when you left your house, the walk to his place not overly long. When you arrived at his house, you were greeted with the aroma of spices and herbs, the sound of Latin music playing softly in the background.

Mickey opened the door, looking just as handsome as he did the night before, his hair tousled and his smile wide. “Well, hello. Fancy seeing you here.” He grinned, stepping to the side so you could walk in. You followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the stools, smiling as he stood by the stove, smiling as he started telling you about what he was cooking, a big smile on his face. The smells of cumin, chili, and coriander filled your senses, and you felt your stomach growl in anticipation as you took in the cozy atmosphere of his apartment, the warm glow of the candles on the table and the soft music in the background. “Hungry?” He asked, smiling. “Yep.” You chuckled, resting your head in your hand as you watched him move around with such confidence. As you watched Mickey cook, you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he moved around the kitchen. It was clear that he was completely at ease in this environment, like he was in his element. His movements were smooth and precise, and he seemed to know exactly what he was doing at every step of the cooking process. It was obvious that he had put a lot of thought and care into the meal, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his effort.

You took a sip of the wine he had poured for you, savoring the flavors as they mingled with the spices in the air. The wine was rich and full-bodied, and you knew it would complement the flavors of the food perfectly. You couldn't wait to try everything he had cooked. As Mickey cooked, he continued to chat with you about his love of cooking, how he had learned from his grandmother and mother, and how he enjoyed experimenting with new recipes and flavors. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself getting more and more excited to try the food as he described it.

The dishes looked and smelled amazing as he plated them, your mouth watering at the sight of them. "I hope you like it," he muttered, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "It looks amazing," you replied, feeling touched that he would go to such lengths to cook for you. "Thank you."

You took a bite of the first dish, a slow-cooked beef stew with plantains, and your taste buds exploded with the flavors of cinnamon and cumin. You couldn't help but moan in appreciation, and Mickey grinned at you, obviously pleased with your reaction. Over dinner, you talked about everything from work to family, sharing fun little facts about both, especially things you can use to get back at Hangman next time he annoys you, to your shared love of music and movies. You find yourself hanging on to his every word, smiling when he takes your hand across the table, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

As the night wore on, the candles burned down low, and the music faded into the background. You realized that you didn't want the night to end. You wanted to stay in this cozy little apartment, surrounded by the smells of spices and herbs. "I don't want this night to end," he muttered, as if he had read your thoughts, his voice low and husky. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Then let's keep it going," you said, feeling emboldened by the desire in his eyes. Mickey smiled, his eyes shining with happiness. "I like the way you think," he chuckled, before leaning in to kiss you, the soft brush of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine. As the kiss deepened, you could feel the heat between you growing, the chemistry electric. You could feel his arms around you, pulling you closer as you kissed him back with equal fervor. The taste of the spices he had cooked with lingered on his lips, making the kiss even more intense. Eventually, you broke the kiss, both of you gasping for breath, smiling at each other with joy and wonder. "Thank you for dinner," you said, your voice soft and sincere. "Anytime," Mickey replied, his eyes shining with affection. "I can't wait to cook for you again." You smiled and nodded, "I can't wait either."

#fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #fanboy imagine #mickey garcia x reader #mickey garcia fluff #top gun fanfic #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #top gun x reader

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the-blue-marshmallow · 8 months

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Jegulus + neck kisses

It is now one shot dump time! Say thank you to Corr who gave me enough serotonin to do this stuff and actually show the world my writing.

Regulus lazily strolled through Hogwarts’ corridors, his outer robe left in his dormitory after lunch. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, showing a carefully manufactured image of a self-assured heir to the Black family.

It was a warm day. Most of the students were outside during the long free time after lunch. They all desperately grasped the moments of free time. Oh well. He was free until Pandora or Barty would decide that he needed his annual dose of sunlight.

He strolled down the corridor, his bag hanging from his shoulder. He still had to finish his essay for Potions and read two chapters for DADA. Right, and Transfi-

He was suddenly yanked into one of the classrooms he walked beside. His body was thrown against one of the desks. Two strong arms, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing perfect brown skin, caged him against the desk. He looked up at the person, slightly scared, because you didn’t get manhandled into an empty classroom everyday. His fear turned into annoyance when his eyes finally landed on the person’s face.

-Jamie.

His voice was snarky and annoyed, reflectring the feelings probably seen in his eyes. James Potter was standing in front of him, with his infuriating glasses and his infuriating fluffy hair and those bottomless eyes that reflected his pale face.

-Hello, lovely. -James’ voice was not its usual cheerful tone that made Regulus’ muscles twitch (his face muscles. Specifically the ones around his lips. Jamie called it a smile.). The other man’s voice was weirdly calm and collected. reserved.

-You are not your usual annoying self today. - it wasn’t a question, more like a statement. - Why?

Jamie’s eyes darkened dangerously (no, Regulus did not like that look. Absolutely not.) and he tilted his head to the side. He was much taller than Regulus and he had to bend over slightly to look him in the eyes.

-That Ravenclaw boy was awfully friendly with you at breakfast.

Oh.

So this was it. James Potter, sunshine of Hogwarts, the happiest man Regulus knew, was jealous. Oh boy.

In this moment Regulus realized he played a little too close to the fire. His innocent playing of the Ravenclaw boy to get him to help with his Herbology project might have gotten him into trouble.

You have to understand, dear reader, James Potter was not a jealous man. He did not get angry with Regulus. He did not get jealous of Regulus. He was not possessive of Regulus.

He knew, no matter who Regulus flirted with to get something he wanted, that James Potter in the end was the one who Regulus came back to. He was the brotherfucker, a title earned through tears, sweat and even a little bit of blood. He was the man Regulus trusted the most beside his beloved brother. He was the man his heart yearned for. He was the man who infuriated Regulus to no end but still pulled him back over and over again.

So when James Potter gets jealous because some Ravenclaw boy (who in the end had an ugly personality and Regulus would not consider him even if James never existed) tried getting cozy with him, it surprised the younger Black brother. Not a lot of things surprised Regulus Black.

-Are you jealous, Jamie? - he coos in a mockingly sweet tone and tilts his head.

And then, much to Regulus’ dread, James growls and grabs his jaw roughly. For just a second a jolt of fear washes through Regulus and his breath hitches. James seems to realize in what position exactly his long fingers were. The rough look in his eyes dims a bit and he moves his grip lover, instead resting his hand on Regulus’ long and thin neck.

His thumb brushes over Regulus’ pulse and his head leans closer.

-I am. I really, really am.

James’ hand wasn’t restraining his breathing or his blood flow whatsoever, more just holding him. Showing him exactly what this situation was.

Regulus cast his gray eyes down and sighed.

-I’m sorry, Jamie. I wasn’t flirting with him, y’know. At least not more than normally. - his voice was gentle and apologetic.- He was kinda… pushy.

James slowly shakes his head. He keeps his eyes on Regulus, like he was trying to look into his soul.

-I know. I’m not mad.- James’ voice was gentle but it held a certain dangerous edge to it. That edge, unfortunately, made the little hairs on Regulus’ nape stand up.

-Then why did you manhandle me into the classroom, if you’re not mad?

-I don’t need to be mad at you to want to mark you as my own.- His voice was a low growl. Oh good lord.

James leaned in and pressed his nose to Regulus’ soft skin. He inhaled deeply and sneaked his hand around to the back of Regulus’ head. He threaded his long fingers into his soft hair and tugged gently.

Regulus took a deep breath and fixed his position. His knees were weak and trembling, the only thing keeping him upright was sheer willpower and the desk he was pressed against. James seemed to see the movement and smirked against Regulus’ skin.

Regulus didn’t think about this too much. He thought that maybe James would just ignore it and continue with whatever was happening right now. Maybe, if he was particularly unlucky, his lover would tease him about it. But no. On this day, in a matter of maybe ten minutes, James Potter managed to surprise his beloved boyfriend, Regulus Black, not once but twice.

James’ hands roughly gripped under his thighs and lifted his slim body up. Regulus was set on the desk, his legs on either side of the taller man’s body. His hands were keeping him upright, braced on the cold surface of the desk behind him.

-This okay, baby?

In a moment of sweetness, James stilled and murmured into his pale skin. Regulus wasn’t sure if he could trust his lips to properly work so he just nodded. He felt the other grin into his neck.

And then three things happened. James pulled his head back with the tight grip on his black hair. Regulus whined.

James smiled.

James sighed.

James sunk his teeth into Reggie’s pale skin.

Regulus Black was always taught how to be a respectable young man. One part of that was learning to never react too much. Not cry, not scream, not yell. So when James’ teeth sunk into his neck a very surprising thing happened. Regulus yelped in surprise and his whole body jolted. His hips accidently bucked agaisnt James’ own. Oh, no. This was bad. This was very, very bad. (Also, Reggie just realised, James was slowly building a life record of how many times a person could surprise him in their lifetime. Regulus thought taht if someone were to actually do it, he was glad it landed on James.)

James leaned back and looked Regulus in the eyes. He had to basically loom over Regulus’ form to properly hold eye contact with him.

-Oh, baby… Did you like that?

Regulus blushed wildly at James’ sweet tone. He grumbled and shook his head.

-No. I didn’t like it. You just surprised me, that’s all.

James snickered and chuckled darkly.

-Mhm, sure. Whatever you say, baby.- James said in a sarcastic tone. Regulus should not like that pet name so much, damn it! He was the heir to the house of Black, for god’s sake.

Regulus scowled at James and leaned back on his arms.

-Of course taht’s what happened, you bastard. You’re not all that, no matter what the gryffindor girls say.

James tilted his head to the side and grinned at him.

-Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I just left, would you?- and then he pushed himself off the desk and took two steps back. Oh no.

-Wait!- James smirked but stilled. He waved his hand in the air, motioning for Regulus to continue.- I… OKay, maybe I did like it a little bit.- he grumbled and put his head down in slight shame.

James stepped closer and caged him with his arms again. His fluffy hair was covering his eyes a little bit. He blew some air up to clear his vision and smiled that goofy, annoying and absolutely stunning smile of his that was reserved for his beloved.

-There you go, baby.- his voice was a confident coo.- Good job.

Regulus crumbled. He put his head down to hide the angry blush spreading over his heels and grumbled something even he wasnt sure what it was.

James chuckled and kissed his cheek tenderly. He didn’t force him to look at him or something. He never did, he just accepted that sometimes eye contact was just too much and he would not get it even if he tried. He also knew that forcing Reggie into looking at him would end very, very badly. He witnessed it first hand when some bastard from Slytherin tried to pull that. It was an ugly sight.

And then James dove in and started pretty much ravaging his neck. He bit, he sucked, he nibbled. The sensations pulled little broken noises out of Regulus. He seemed to revel in them and tried different spots just to hear them all.

Regulus struggled with the sensations. James’ lips sucking on his skin, leaving angry purple marks that would probably take at least a week to fade. His teeth nibbling the skin on his collarbones in the most gentle way possible. The full on bites made to the soft flesh of his shoulder, not enough to break skin (he would kill James if he ever actually bit him. Maybe he licked having visual proof of their relationship on his skin but scars were just too much, god damn it.) but enough to make him whimper and throw his head back in a lazy motion.

James leaned back and looked at him, his cheeks red and his lips covered in spit.

-You okay, baby?- he gently brushed Regulus’ fluffy hair back and out of his face. His eyes were awfully tender, now that he got his need to mark Regulus up out of his system. Reggie hated how that look made his stomach flip.

He took a moment to take a deep breath and gather the reality around him. James’ hands were on his thighs, grounding him and providing him with a consistent sensation he could focus on. Damn that perceptive bastard.

Regulus nodded and took another deep breath.

-Yeah. I think I’m okay.- His words were slow and weirdly intentional, like it took a lot of effort to get them out. james squeezed his thighs, not too little but not too roughly either. Just right.

-Can I continue?- His dear asked in a gentle tone. He kept his face leveled with Regulus’, even if they didn’t hold eye contact.

Regulus only nodded.

-...Do you want me to continue?

This was their issue. James Potter was just too perceptive of Regulus’ reactions for the younger to keep any secret around him. Damn him and his stupid, kind heart.

Regulus took a moment to thinkl about the question. He thought for a long time, longer than it usually took him. James was there the whole time, keeping his big, warm hands on his thighs.

He slowly nodded. He realized he had been running the tips of his fingers over the veins on James’ hands to soothe himself. He didn’t stop the motion, despite his embarrassment.

-Do you remember what to say if it gets too much?

James’ voice was so infuriatingly gentle and soothing as he spoke to him. He didn’t demand, he didn’t rush him. He let him take his time and find the words in the mess that was now his mind.

He took a deep breath and tried to get the word out. Then he tried again. He parted his lips and focused very hard on getting this one word out for his dear.

-Petrichor.

James’ grin widened impossibly. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead.

-Good job, baby. Thank you.

Regulus blushed and dipped his head forward. He put his forehead on James’ wide shoulder and sighed happily. Even when words would get a little too hard for Reggie, James would make sure he was okay and that he felt loved. He knew how sometimes Regulus would drown in his own thoughts.

-Okay, and can you show me what to do if words get too hard?

Regulus thought for a moment. He then brought his hand higher on James’ forearm and wrapped his thin fingers around his strong arm. He squeezed his arm three times, the first squeeze long and the other ones short.

-Mhm, that’s it. Good job, baby.

Regulus blushed and grumbled into James’ shoulder. The other laughed at his reaction, the kind of laugh that would make Reggie’s heart skip a beat and do a flip. The taller man dipped his head lower and attached his lips to a spot above Regulus’ collarbone that wasn’t yet covered with a bite or a hickey. He slowly moved along his skin, filling in the gaps he left before. His touch was less urgent, less possessive, more gentle. It was like the result mattered less than the process in this moment. There was always one warm hand on Regulus’ thigh, under his own smaller, pale hand. It made him feel assured that no matter what, he had control over what happened to him. That no one ever would make him hold eye contact or do something to him he didn't like.

He whimpered and let his head roll back, revealing more of his pale skin. James snaked a hand under his slightly long hair and put a big hand on the back of his neck, supporting his head and letting his neck relax. He gently put his thumb behind Reggie’s ear and so softly moved his head to the side to kiss and nip at the spot behind his other ear.

The hand on his thigh squeezed him, seemingly in a silent question. He squeezed back, his hand shaking just a little.

James moved to the other side of his neck, rolling his head gently in his grip. He was so tender about it, so soft and careful.

They would emerge from the classroom forty minutes later, Regulus's hair tussled and fluffed up from being held so much. And if he walked a little funny and paid a bit more attention to keeping his neck covered, then damn him for having little joys in life every now and then.

#jegulus #oneshot #harry potter #marauders #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #kisses #love you Corr you were the only reason i started posting #am i being parasocial? maybe #not beta read we die like regie

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beauleifu · 1 year

Note

hiii!! saw your rqs were open so i swooped right in >:) may i perhaps get a fluffy syntax x reader where the reader tries to drag syntax away from his work because theyre sleepy and want to cuddle him (bonus points if syntax is a bit of a tease cause djkfgdkfg im predictable) ...... i feel like once he gets going on his work he stays there until he either finishes it or passes out. overall hes Very stubborn so we gotta try and fix his sleep schedule with the power of ~love~ (and a lot of convincing). thank you for the opportunity!! the way you write for him is like instant serotonin 🙏💞

HEYYYYY GOOD TO HAVE YOU!

And ofc, ofc, we all love a little Syntax serotonin, yessir. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, sorry if this is late! I wanted it to be fun and mushy lmao

P.S. to everyone else, I think this is gonna be my last long oneshot for Syntax seeing as im writing a fanfic for him and dont want stuff for him to get old or repetetive, I have a LOT of requests regarding him so i'll either write short headcanons or not answer them until later <3

as for that yan!Syntax x reader, that's the exception lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Your idiot is back at it again, tinkering late at night at the work bench you realize you regret buying for him. Syntax was never one to value his own health, so it's up to you to, ah . . . remind him. Let's hope your plans don't go sideways.

CW: Tiny suggestive bit, language

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

When you wake up, it's still dark.

Weird . . . You think, not bothering to sit up. Dull gaze directed at the stone ceiling, you frown thoughtfully.

It's probably sometime around three in the morning.

That doesn't explain the strange empty feeling inside of you. Blowing out a sigh, you look around for the person you'd been spooning all night - only to find the other side of the bed vacant and cold.

Now you realize why you feel empty.

Syntax is gone.

Frustration starts to build up in your center as you slowly sit up and rub your eyes, yawning tiredly.

He's probably working in his signature cave. Just one of many in the vast expanses of the Spider Queen's lair. You've become familiar with the many routes and tunnels that stretch to the surface (the Spider Queen needed you at your top game, anyways). After coming to terms with serving the Queen, you've stayed by Syntax's side to help him with whatever he needs. You're not a tech nerd, you're not even a scientist. But the spider demons seem to enjoy your company, the food you cook, and the items you bring from the surface.

It's too chilly to leave your room without a blanket, so you drape the fluffiest one over your shoulders and slip out of bed, bare feet touching the smooth, stone cold floor.

Urgh. Living underground doesn't have many perks.

You find solace in working with Syntax and befriending the other spider demons. At least they allow you to travel to the surface in order to get your daily dose of vitamin D and other necessities. Besides that, you live down here.

Stretching and scratching your back, you walk aimlessly to the door and crack it open. It's dark outside.

It's always dark.

You've grown accustomed to the lack of sunlight, but you must have access to a nightlight or a lamp if you want to feel somewhat at home. The Spider Queen had allowed you to decorate your room (it's a cave, but you refuse to call it that), and you're grateful to her for that. It's not often she expresses any sort of kindness to begin with.

Eyes wide, you fumble for your phone and beam the light down the tunnel.

Just beyond, where the path curves sideways, you see a light.

Yup. Totally working.

"Damn spider demon," you mumble to yourself, in a slight daze as you leave your room and follow the source of light. "Getting no sleep. What am I supposed to do . . ."

When you finally reach the room, you pause.

Anxiety bubbles in your chest.

Step, step, step.

You've started pacing, you know it.

Slowly shuffling back in forth in front of the ominous door that leads to Syntax's quarters, hands twisting the blanket fabric. Under normal circumstances, you'd walk right in after knocking, with a smile on your face.

Instead, you're frowning, tapping your chin and thinking hard.

It's three in the fucking morning.

Why isn't he asleep!?

You don't understand why the Spider Queen won't send Syntax to rest and charge up if she values his tech skills so much. Despite it being so dim down here in the spider caves, no one ever seems to want to sleep. Unless they do so while you're aboveground, but the time you spend up there recently is very brief. You're ordered to return to the Spider Queen's lair in due time (and you're sure Huntsman keeping an eye on you the whole time, anyways. You don't try anything).

Adjusting the fluffy blanket draping over your shoulders, you fight a yawn and rub your eyes. Just get it over with.

You're tired.

He must be exhausted.

It's that which motivates you to quietly open the door, peeking inside before stepping through. As you expected, a tall figure stands at the work bench, back to you, tinkering away.

You puff out a small, exasperated sigh. "Syntax. . . ."

He doesn't turn, but you detect the smallest tensing of his shoulder muscles as he straightens a tad. You hear the small exhale.

"You should be asleep."

Oh, he wants to play this game? Puffing a sigh, you enter the room and shut the door quietly behind you, leaning against it. "Yeah, well, so should you. This isn't healthy and you know it. Why can't you take a break and come back to bed?"

"You know why. I'm almost finished with the prototype."

"The prototype?? You mean you're not even at the final stage?" Crossing the room and joining him at the workbench, you give him the stinky eye. "That's not almost finished."

Finally, Syntax locks eyes with you, frowning. "Did I say I was almost finished with the project as a whole?"

"No. . . ."

"Precisely. Now if you won't return to bed, then sit and be quiet."

You weigh your options, biting your lip.

At this rate, he'll just refuse your request just to spite you. There must be a smarter way to play your cards. Something that you know he has a weakness for. . . .

"How about a deal?" You murmur.

There.

You catch it, the slight lift of his eyebrows and the brief gleam in his green eyes. But he merely scoffs. "What did I just tell you?"

"Please. Please!" You say, fighting a smile. "I wanna cuddle!"

"I'm not in the mood for bargaining."

He's messing with you. You know he's interested in whatever you have to offer. Puffing a laugh, you slip your arms around his midsection and hug him from behind, closing your eyes. The sound of his breathing against your ear is soothing, even when it hitches at your actions. He's so warm. No wonder you woke up from his absence.

"Pleeeeeaase?" You whine softly, knowing you sound childish but not caring in the slightest. "I thought you liked deals."

A pause. You hold your breath.

Syntax lets out a sigh, a smile in his voice. "What did you have in mind?"

Oh.

"I, uh . . . haven't planned it out that far. I was expecting you to shoo me back to bed," you admit sheepishly, glad you can hide your face in his coat so you can avoid meeting his gaze, which is no doubt amused and mocking.

The spider demon hums, tinkering away. "That was on my itinerary, but you have piqued my interest. . . ."

"Okay, how about I do whatever you want for a bit, and in return you come to bed and cuddle with me," you offer, releasing him. Syntax spins on heel and leans on the workbench.

"'Whatever I want'?" He repeats mischievously.

You consider. "Within reason."

"Understandable. All right," Syntax says, cocking his head. "I have an idea."

A question builds in your throat, for he'd been so very explanatory, but Syntax simply crosses you to the far side of the desk and faces you once more. Hands in his pockets, he nods to the desk, eyes twinkling mysteriously. You frown deeply.

"Sit here."

Now you grimace, face scrunched as you try and figure out his ulterior motives. "Uh-huh. What else? Just sit?"

If this is it, getting him to bed will be shockingly simple.

Of course, you miss the look in his gaze. Smiling casually, he hums; "Yes. That's all." And then his voice takes on a stern dip. "However. You are to sit quietly and obediently until I instruct otherwise. If you can do that, I see no problem in fulfilling your end of the bargain."

There it is, the catch you were waiting for.

Accepting your face, you nod wearily and saunter over to the desk. You make sure the blanket is secure before hopping up onto the smooth, wooden surface.

Syntax steps back, making sure you look comfy. "Good. Now sit there for a bit."

"You're not just doing this to make me shut up, are you?" You accuse as he walks back to the workbench. Shifting to avoid leaning back and bumping the discarded tech gear at your back, you eye him sternly. "You really will come back to bed?"

He merely glances at you.

Oh.

Shit.

You make a quick movement of zipping your mouth closed. Damnit, you still have no idea if you're doing this for nothing.

Syntax cracks a satisfied smile, returning to his work.

His demeanor gives away nothing. Whipping out your phone, you glance at the time. 3:30. Through narrowed eyes, you determine how long he'll make you sit here. No longer than half an hour, if he values your sleep schedule. Somewhat reassured, you settle into the blanket and watch Syntax resume tinkering around. The prototype looks like some kind of mini spider-bot, with sharp appendages and large, x-raying green eyes.

You long to ask what purpose his creation serves. Perhaps it's some kind of spying device, to scuttle around the city undercover of night in search of the Monkie Kid. Then again, isn't Syntax's current task something different? You thought the former was Huntsman's job.

A yawn escapes you without warning, and you clap a hand over your mouth in shock.

Syntax spares you a brief glance. "Giving up?"

He's asking if you're tired enough to abandon the deal and leave him here (as he probably wants). To challenge you in that way sparks a flame that you don't bother to snuff out.

Glaring determinedly, you shake your head. Not in a million years.

The spider demon's face drops in disappointment, and he turns back to his work without another word.

You're inclined to pass the time on your phone, lazily scrolling through entertainment simply thrown at your feet, as they swing back and forth above the cave floor. But as time ticks on, you begin to think this is all quite hopeless.

You struggle against another yawn.

A few more minutes.

It'll be worth it.

Syntax suddenly straightens, having been rearranging the insides of the mini spider-bot for the past five minutes. Blowing out an exhale, he glances at you - or rather, behind you.

His eyes then trail to your face. A slow, smug smile spreads across his features.

Setting the screwdriver aside, he walks over to the desk.

You realize he needs something from behind you, something lost among the many miscellaneous tech items resting against the wall. However, from the strange gleam in his eyes, you doubt that's all he needs, and he hasn't asked you to move yet. So you plant your hands on the table in preparation to scooch over and make room for him.

To your surprise, Syntax stops your motions by politely - yet firmly - placing one hand on your knee.

You swallow. Uh oh.

Syntax smiles kindly at you. "That's not necessary."

"But I-"

"Perhaps you're forgetting your instructions? Move, and the deal is off," Syntax continues, effectively shutting you up. With a gentle squeeze to your knee, he winks. "So stay."

That kind smile was a ruse, a dirty trick that had momentarily lowered your guard.

Syntax finds it incredibly easy to simply lean right over you to retrieve whatever he needed from the table. He's taller than you, his height even more prominent when you're sitting down. You have to tilt your chin upward so it just barely brushes his shoulder, heart beat suddenly wild.

It stops.

It skips beats.

It has no fucking clue how to react.

"U-Um-"

"Just a moment," Syntax says, which is so informative. You can practically feel his smirk, can taste the amusement reeking off of him.

Also his perfume. Not to mention his natural scent.

Smells good. Heat blossoms in your cheeks, your mouth quite dry as you attempt to swallow. The phone in your hands slips from your laxed grip into Syntax's palm, and you don't even try to object.

The scientist fusses with something behind you for a good ten seconds, giving you plenty of time to work up quite a flustered storm in both your head and your face. In the end, when he leans back, you're shivering despite the blanket, cheeks on fire.

The spider demon smirks.

Job well done, his eyes seem to say, green and mocking.

"Enjoying your visit thus far?" He says musingly, eyebrows raised. When you give no answer, he scoffs and brushes his bangs to one side. "You have permission to speak, I suppose. For now."

You simply glare, no longer wanting to cuddle anymore.

No.

You want to attack, like the little gremlin you are. Revenge tastes sweet, yessir.

"Not answering," you huff, hoping for a drink.

Which is certainly answer enough. Syntax's drops and he shrugs as if to say, you're loss. He's still a close distance from you, looking down at your blanket-swaddled frame. "You'd rather go back to bed and give up this . . . whatever this is?"

When he'd gestured to you, your eyes fall to his hands, unwilling to keep eye contact.

"I just . . ."

Angry for being at such a loss for words, you glare at the floor.

Syntax's expression softens.

He seems to realize what's up. With a faint sigh of fond exasperation, he rests his hands on either side of you, on the desk, and lowers himself to your eye level.

"Why did you really come down here. To me," Syntax murmurs, eyes half lidded.

You stiffen. "Well . . . I . . ."

He's smiling now, fingers ghosting along your arm. "Did you miss me that much?"

"More like worried you'd kill yourself working too hard," you grumble.

"Hmm. I'm touched," Syntax comments, gently taking your hand in his. Raising it to his lips, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, eyes trained on you. This time, you bite your lip so hard you taste blood.

Say it.

It's certainly a last ditch effort, an idea you're not exactly proud of.

However, as we all say, for the greater good.

"It . . . it just hurts to see you neglect your own health," you whisper, as though your confession is something forbidden.

Your words fill Syntax's ears.

He blinks, lips parting in surprise. You catch the guilt flash across his face.

At that moment, you seize your chance.

Syntax didn't know.

He had no clue that you were also putting on an act to dissuade him from the real deal (although your confession still have a ring of truth to them).

Karma is a bitch.

Hauling the blanket with you, you launch yourself at Syntax and wrap yourself around him, legs hooking around his waist. The blanket had fallen in such a way that it now covers both of your heads, giving way to a new kind of darkness that you quite like.

He gasps, hands instinctively flying down to support you.

With eyes of steel, you grab his face.

"Sleep," you beg, expression set aglow by the soft shine of Syntax's green eyes. Cracking a fond smile, you kiss his nose. "Cuddle with me."

You kiss his forehead. "I love you and I want you to be healthy."

Then, you pinch his cheek. "Don't make me use force."

Syntax is effectively breathless, words simply abandoning him when he needs them most. Your actions had startled him for sure, and thankfully he'd caught you or you'd be on your ass right now, drowning in shame. For now, you remain thankful and patient in his arms, thumb absently brushing his cheek.

Finally, Syntax sighs in resignation. "I knew I'd fail to achieve anything with your constant nagging."

"Is that a yes?"

A yawn - you knew he was tired. "I suppose it was."

Relief pours through you, and you remove the blanket from over both your heads. It falls back around your shoulders like a fluffy cape.

"Then let's be off," you say, yawning ass well.

He obeys, perhaps sad to leave his project yet his body is relaxed. Carrying you still, he leaves the cave and walks down the tunnel. You hug him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing deeply.

"I can't believe you did this on a daily basis before we met."

Syntax clears his throat. "With good reason."

"Give me one good reason, then."

Silence.

He's tired. It brings a smile to your face, because so are you, and it would suck to have forced him to do something he isn't ready for.

Now you can look forward to sleeping with peace of mind.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk syntax #syntax x reader #oneshot #fluff #tw light suggestive themes #you dont have to take it that way tho #syntax workaholic #both of you are scheming idiots in love #i mean that in a good way #thanks for the ask!#had sm fun writing this #long post

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zealoushound · 2 years

Text

Title: A Dose of Serotonin

Summary: Sy takes care of his girl after she tests positive for Covid. (Told from Sy’s POV)

Pairing: Sy x reader

Word Count: 675

Warnings: fluff, reader has Covid

A/N: This story was inspired by a little drabble I wrote for my beautiful bestie @cavillsthighs. I added a bit here and there and decided to post it.

Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.

***

Covid.

Stupid fucking covid. Two years in and she catches stupid fucking covid.

She just wanted to go on one trip. Now she’s in the bed coughing her head off, and trying to keep her fever from spiking again. I feel like the best thing I can do is make soup for her, and get her medicine and tissues when she needs them.

She didn’t want me to stay here but I insisted. Unlike everything else, she couldn’t do this one on her own. I'd already been exposed anyway; there was no way I was leaving her alone during this.

Drying my hands on the dish towel I looked around to make sure everything was done. Trash taken out, dishes washed, dinner warming in the crockpot. Only need to dry the laundry and I’ll be done. I could hear her coughing from my place in the kitchen.

“Sy?” Her hoarse voice broke my heart.

“I’m comin, doll,” I grabbed another bottle of water and headed to the bedroom.

My beautiful love. Normally she was bigger than life. Independent, strong, happy go lucky, but right now she looked so small and helpless. She’s bundled up in her favorite blanket, watching that show she’s been obsessing over. Aika had set up camp at the foot of the bed.

“What’d you need sweetheart?” I can’t stop my brows furrowing in concern.

“You,” she asked softly.

This simple request melted my heart. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. It’s my honor to be the one she calls for; the one that she wants to hold her when she needs comfort. I should probably tell her that. Putting the cold bottle down on the nightstand, I kicked off my shoes, and pulled my shirt over my head. She watched me the entire time.

“Aika, come,” I called for her to get down. Being a good girl she hopped down immediately finding her bed by the dresser.

Climbing under the cool sheets I could feel her warmth. Her fever was breaking but still stubbornly hanging on. Seeing her smile despite all the bad shit going through her body right now let me know I was doing something right.

“C’mere darlin.” I said softly.

She immediately wrapped her arms around my torso. Her legs tangling with mine never failed to make my heart skip a beat. She laid her head over my heart.

For a moment everything was still, quiet. The soft hum from the fridge down the hall played in my ear. The tinkling sound of the decorations she had hung on the wall moving with the ac almost made me want to drift off. It was peaceful. For a moment. She coughed again, groaned and buried her face in the blanket over my stomach.

When she moved back I ran my fingers through her hair. I began to think how lucky I was to be here with her. I’d been worried about her since she came home. We thought it was the jet lag making her tired; maybe it was her allergies making her cough. As soon as she asked to take that Covid test I knew something was really wrong.

I pulled her closer to me without a second thought. I want to be as close as I can to her right now. I told her I didn’t care if I got it and I meant it. In fact if I could I’d take it from her, go through it for her I would in a heartbeat.

Her fingers skimmed over my chest, playing with my hair. She laid a soft kiss over my heart. I could stay in this moment, if only she felt better. Snuggling deeper into me she unknowingly made me feel on top of the world. Who do all these cuddles benefit here - me or her? I placed a kiss on top of her head.

“I love you,” I whispered against her warm scalp.

Either way, all I know is if serotonin could cure Covid she’d be over it by now.

#zealoushound writes #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #syverson fluff #fic request #captain syverson fic #captain syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fanfiction #fluff #syverson x you #captain syverson x reader #covid fic #syverson pov

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generation1point5 · 2 months

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After life, death. After death, life again. After the world, the pale. After the pale, the world again!

Persona 3 embodies the existential crisis; the nihilist and the absurd in equal measure. Among JRPGs, it has probably one of the more unique and thought-provoking stories that I have come away with. More than a generic story of high-schoolers-use-the-power-of-friendship-to-kill-god, Persona 3 pursues a nuanced and powerful story of everyday students coming to terms with their own mortality, and standing against it even as they recognize the ultimate futility in the act. The game's original tagline featured in the intro, Memento Mori, is perfectly suited for encompassing the themes and character directions of all its diverse cast of characters. Despite its more fantastical elements, Persona 3 is rooted in the everyday things; the trifles, the frail and the human, the fallible and the fragile. More than just exploring trauma that must be healed, Persona 3 reminds players that life is indeed terminal, and explores many of the ways in which people react to this fact.

I admire the ambition of this game to cover an immense and difficult topic, even as I think it falls flat in its exploration in some regards.

There is a strong sense of FOMO in Persona 3; this was an impression that was even more heightened for me, having checked it out late into my 3-month PC game pass as a bonus for overhauling my graphics card. I had about a month to see how a year of one's life can change oneself and all one's surroundings. From what little I had gleaned from the game through osmosis of other friends who had played in the past and the guidance of present friends who helped me optimize my blind run, I tried to experience as much as the game that I could before the opportunity was lost to me.

If I had only a year to live, I think I wouldn't act so differently.

The sense of fear of potential loss is all-pervasive. There is a drive to make the most of each day, to tie every loose end and take everything into account before the end. It drove me to optimize each and every day; I wanted to know what I had to do, all the things to say, to get the optimal outcome. Sometimes I wonder if I was playing the game to enjoy it as I normally would or if I was playing to satisfy my desires within the constraints of the game's framework.

The first instance of dissonance that I felt (and actively pursued) was to suck up to all of the social links and to maximize my social stats in the game as quickly as possible. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to maximize all of them by the end of the game, though I had come close enough to be satisfied with the result. There were a few points where I had begun to relate to the characters in the social links as "people," but far more often I had seen the 1s and 0s behind them; I reloaded my saves to say the "right" things to them, regardless of whether I had agreed with the dialogue or not. At a fundamental level, the relationship is transactional. I get to see the music notes, the ranking goes up, and I get my dose of serotonin and my in-game benefits when fusing personas. If there was any meaning that I could derive from the social links, it was in the tangible ways people could benefit me, that I might bring about a more optimal result for the good of all. It was utilitarian at heart, and that is perhaps one of the constraints of a traditional JRPG that runs up against the themes that the game attempts to explore regarding the vital importance of relationships.

Or perhaps, if all else fails, one can simply see the usefulness of finding the people who give you what you need to survive. In many ways, Jin embodies this dynamic in what he sees in Takaya. There was nothing inherently unique in what Takaya said or did for Jin; only that he was positioned at the right place at the right time to answer Jin's crisis of being, and so gave him purpose. On a material level, there is nothing terribly distinct to separate Jin's fanaticism with that of the cult that Strega attempts to construct to usher the Fall, only that it revolved around a person, as fallible as the dogma which was spouted from his lips.

Where many of the villains feel underwritten or at times shallow, the teammates that comprise the party are extremely well-written and thought out. They have much greater freedom of being able to be related with a degree of sincerity that I did not enjoy with the other social links. They also had the most screentime, and the most development as a result. Each struggle with death and loss each their own way, some that bear the scars of past trauma and others that go through it in the game's events. Each one comes out of their trials with a resolve to live as driven by the legacies of those who entrusted to them their hopes and dreams. This animus is as inspirational as it is weighty, wretched as much as it is powerful.

Like many shounens, there's a pervasive theme within Persona 3 to take on or to dismantle the will and the legacy of one's forebears to shape the future. In P3's case, this idea is reframed into the idea of adopting or dismantling the will of one's forebears for the sake of the future, the future's very existence being at stake. At the heart of Persona 3's conflict, there is a struggle between the is a will to live and a will to despair in the face of death.

While I appreciated the depiction of the struggle itself as it played out among various characters, I had come away with a distinct feeling of disappointment with the hints of underpinnings of what my friend @h-worksrambles aptly calls "the death drive," that sense and near-compulsive force within people to find the effort of life no longer worth sustaining. Where Persona 3 pursues philosophical underpinnings to the question, questions for which there are no answer, I had hoped instead for a more material analysis, as it is more practical and immediately relevant.

Perhaps the strongest point of Persona 3's writing for me is its unflinching depiction of what is colloquially known as "the sins of the fathers." The legacy of the powerful Kirijo Group, with its immense amounts of capital and influence, seek a means to forge a utopia from their research into the Shadows. Somewhere along this line, their seemingly noble goal becomes enraptured in an all-encompassing desire to die, the despair defining their success in achieving the impossible. Even after the dissolution of the Kirijo Group's initial efforts, this depraved vision was carried on by Strega, with immediate consequences also trying deeply to all the protagonists in the game in some shape or form. Moreover, the shadow of Kirijo Group's original efforts to bring about an apocalypse begins to manifest in the form of Apathy Syndrome, whose gradual effects on the populace create a great strain on the local community.

You can't get much thinner of a veil for the chronic depression stemming from Japanese socioeconomic conditions than that. The setting of Persona 3 also highlights the almost absurd pressure being placed on people far too young to be considering topics like their own mortality and the end of the world, its conditions wrought by the animus of their forebears; if the cast of Persona 3 is meant to be an allegory of the difficulties facing the youth that are far outnumbered by an aging and rapidly stagnating Japanese economy, then the analogy is as subtle as a sledgehammer. Outside of a fictionalized setting, the stakes are almost comical, if not incredibly bleak.

Yet in the middle of all this is also a story of a war machine that learns what it means to be human, to find meaning in the face of ones inability to fulfill their own function. Although explored in many other ways through both main and side characters, Aigis most explicitly embodies the human experience through self-discovery, throuh self-actualization. Over the events of the game and in the face of being given an impossible objective, she finds the drive to find and create meaning in the face of destruction of the old, that which was in-built and inherited. In a stroke of irony, the thing she comes to desire when she cannot achieve her inherited design slips from her fingers. The one she swears to protect dies in her arms.

I am of many minds about the ultimate conclusion of Persona 3. On one hand, I balk at the sense of futility; on the other, a brutal recognition of memento mori. This is likely intentional, as it strikes to the heart of the existential themes presented in the game. A common refrain in the face of existential recognitions of mortality is to create meaning in one's life, but to my mind this speaks more to the human need for a coping mechanism as an everyday fact of life. The meaning of life as a concept thus becomes a byproduct of higher intelligence, a necessary component for the drive to continue living, rather than a genuine, sincere question in search of a true, material answer. There is nothing in my mind that conclusively proved that SEES reaction to the same existential crisis held any greater claim to the truth than Strega's, only that they proved to be more powerful in the end. The debate was fundamentally an axiomatic one; the conclusion was fought out through expressions of power: that speaks more to the realms of politics than it does philosophy. But then, politics has always been more of a driving force in the world than any philosopher.

Where Persona 3 offers a strong and nuanced explorations of the human psyche in the face of an all-encompassing mortality, I come away with a desire to see how a change in people's material conditions, and with it a fundamental change in our organization of the economy, could in fact produce a much more cohesive and greater view of life beyond the individuals that comprise the stories in the broader tapestry. The values of empathy and persistence in the face of futility espouse in Persona 3 offer a good foundation; but beyond the foundation there is a structure that enshrines and solidifies these values remains to be built if the future of humanity will be realized. Beyond psychology and the persona, there must also be good politics and policy.

#persona 3 reload

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goblinfoot · 3 months

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Finally got the courage to pull my traumatized anxious ass to the doctors to be medicated, and now said medications are KICKING said ass. Zoloft gave me panic attacks so bad I’m pretty sure it was actually the onset of serotonin syndrome, my whole body was twitching and I had a head tic for days and I still clench my jaw like crazy. and now the Lexapro (although less brain fog/confusion/etc issues) is making me feel crazier and I’m only on a half dose I’m not even up to the 5mg and I’ve been taking it for three days. Like how am I suppose to know if it’s “normal” or if SSRI’s are literally poisoning me 🤦🏻‍♀️

I hate the “wait it out and see if it’s just you adjusting to the meds” I’ve been out of work for a week so far, I’m not going in this whole week, I asked for the week after off (this was something I asked for before the meds tried to murder me the first time) because my WIFE is struggling with her meds not being enough and is doing a partial hospitalization program which is like intensive therapy and coping skills stuff. Like everything that could go wrong IS going wrong, and I’m doing everything in my power not to be put on a psych hold because I’M fine, it’s these stupid meds making me spiral out of control but I need to find the right meds because I was already missing work before all this because of my anxiety issues making me throw up from stress.

Why couldn’t I have just not been traumatized for almost 8 years from a relationship, not to mention just the base level trauma from existing/being raised by a traumatized mother who also probably is on the spectrum like me and just the generational trauma from all that. I’m doing the “right things” and it’s kicking me down worse than I started it’s not fair.

#personal #me #medication mention #anxiety #ptsd

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hermit-called-he · 10 months

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PLEASURE

We always end our conversations by saying it was a pleasure

It's nice to know that I'm not rudely invading your time for leisure

My childhood experiences encouraged me to be a bit of a people pleaser

It's slowly getting easier

If the person I end up with is half the person you are, I will be glad

Otherwise it would seem my life would be on track to be very sad

You're everything I want in a guy

Sure, you're not the most confident man, but that doesn't mean I think you're not worth a try

Self confidence is a fickle thing

Over text at least, our hearts seem to sing

I mean it when I say talking to you gives me pleasure

To me, our conversations are the ultimate treasure

I learn so much about you through the screen

And you don't need to initiate a conversation to be seen

We're quieter in person, yes that is true

That doesn't mean I feel any less about you

I apologize for making you watch me stuff my fucking face

That created a lot of the awkward space

I have a habit of ignoring those I like most

I promise it's only my way of making sure we don't get too close

I know you think talking to me is a pleasure

You also know that we both have trust issues which we hide with different measures

You push people away by not engaging

While I push them away by keeping them waiting

I care too much, that much is true

I might be likable but I can be cold too

I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone except those I want to talk to most

God when your eyes are on me, it's like a lethal dose

My brain goes out the window and I am ashamed

This space in between crushing on you and not feels so fucking lame

When you say talking to me is a pleasure, it's serotonin for my brain

I don't even think that much serotonin is a significant gain

It's a momentary spark and I am a slave to its wants

I need to learn how to get out of my head and stop listening to its taunts

Don't stop saying that our talks give you pleasure

You are a goddamn treasure

I'll be damned if I ever willingly let you go

If I did it, it might be a new low

Some of my friends say I should just give up

Giving up isn't what I do

To some extent, I don't believe in no win scenarios, just a heads-up

Perhaps I don't need to outright say it, you already know it's true

My ambition might be my end

We're probably better off as friends,

But you've raised my standards for men

Oh I will be so sad if I never see your like again

Just know that if we are to part in about three years time

Having the pleasure of knowing you was worth every dime

#original art #a hermit called he #adobe illustrator #autodesk sketchbook #poetry #my art #fucked up a bit but it's ok <3

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sunlightandsuffering · 2 years

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Lys! How are the kids!! I’m back to read EM being parents when I need a dose of serotonin and thought I’d ask on how their children are �� after poor Nico in the Milf chapter I head canon that he brought his friends round to hang out at the house once during the summer and his friends saw Mikasa in a sundress and he never invited anyone over again 😊 and of course how are Yumi and Hana!

omg the children! omg i love this, the reason I never revisit children is bc I have no ideas for them but this is cute!

Eren isn't oblivious to how attractive his wife is, no he's quite aware. Especially during the summer when its too hot for her to cover out and her tops start getting a little more lowcut, shorts shorter, and flowy skirts and short summer dresses start becoming her uniform.

Summer as one can imagine is Eren's favourite time of year, easy access to his very attractive wife and he doesn't let it go to waste

But not everyone is as mentally prepared for how beautiful his wife is, especially not his children. Nico in particular hasn't learned his lesson yet, because one hot August day his 14 year old excitedly asserts to Eren that his friends are coming over to use the pool. His son is excited, back from summer camp and wanting to see his school friends before the new semester starts up again. Eren shrugs, "Whatever you want champ."

His son runs off to call up his friends and Eren takes a seat in the dining room where he can overlook the pool, waiting for the chaos to ensue.

And it does.

He feels sort of bad, like he's shirked his parental duties, but at the same time he can't really see a way he could have told his son of the dangers of having his male friends over for a pool party. How would it have gone?

'Hey son, I know this is weird but maybe it isn't a good idea to have 6 teenaged boys over for the pool, no it's not because someone could drown, it's because your mom is too hot and I don't want you to endure the teasing'.

Eren thinks it probably wouldn't have gone so well.

Nico is 14, just on the cusp of proper puberty while some of his other friends have already hit it, in their early years of high school, right now more than ever girls are on the brain.

Objectively, it's a terrible idea to allow his son to have a bunch of teenaged boys over when Mikasa is around, really it's downright unfair.

But such is life, and Eren certainly isn't going to hide his lovely wife just so Nico is comfortable. It wouldn't be fair, and Mikasa would probably murder him, she doesn't understand her beauty is dangerous sometimes and he doesn't know how to explain that either.

It all goes well at first, the boys arrive one by one and each is respectful, calling him Mr. Yeager, taking off their shoes at the door, towels and sunscreen in hand as he leads them towards where the rest of the kids are in the back. Yumi and Hana are off at the mall, getting makeovers or something silly he's not entirely sure, and Mikasa had gone out to grocery shop for the coming weeks as school starts up again.

As the last boy arrives, Eren plunks himself down in one of the lounge chairs near the pool, watching them horse around like a good life guard/parent.

He watches and he waits, waits for chaos to strike in the form of his beautiful wife.

And it sure does. Mikasa arrives home at precisely 1 pm, he hears the garage door open, before the clack of her heels on the hardwood alerts him of her entrance into the house. Of course he has to go greet her.

She's stunning as always when he finds her in the kitchen, unpacking groceries and grumbling about useless husbands, of course. "Hi baby," he greets and she glares at him, "You couldn't help me unpack Eren?" He smirks, making his way behind her to kiss at the delicate arch of her neck, hands finding her waist before they travel up to her own hands to stop her from doing any more work. "I was watching the kids in the pool, but I'll unpack now, why don't you sit down?" She melts of course, because he's still got it!

She turns to give him a kiss, long and slow, and he leans into it, he hasn't seen her much today, she'd gotten out of bed too early this morning, he'd missed a quickie this morning.

She's a little more receptive to him when he breaks the kiss, eyes glassy and lipstick smudged, her arms hung loosely around his neck.

"Wife"

She gives him a wry smile before leaning up to kiss his nose, "Husband."

Her hands trail over the hard planes of his abs, down to his own swim trunks and she isn't shy about her groping, giving him an evil smile as her hand finds him half-mast under his trunks, "You look handsome today husband."

He grins, "And you look particularly ravishing today wife." She preens before pulling away to start trying to unpack the groceries again but he's quick to stop her, swatting her hands away.

Eren takes the opportunity to pick her up, sweeping her legs out from under her and she squeals at the abrupt change in gravity. He gives her perky little butt a smack for good measure before leading her off towards the kitchen island he deposits her safely onto a bar stool.

He moves back to start unpacking the groceries and she pouts at him from her new position, "That wasn't very nice." He beams, "I have to do my husbandly duties you know Mikasa, otherwise what use would I be?" She shrugs as he puts away a granola bar, "You're good in the sack." He shoots her a pleased grin over his shoulder as he disappears into the pantry for a moment, she's looking at him just a little too longingly, her eyes sparkling with desire and maybe he's not the only one who missed their quickie this morning.

"That I am dear wife, but it's not good enough to keep a heavenly creature such as you around, I have to earn my keep you know."

She shakes her head at him fondly, "Stop flattering me." He's definitely not, Mikasa does look stunning today. She's wearing a white tube top that barely restrains her perky mounds, somehow defying gravity even after three kids, and he loves them no less than he did when he married her, still wants nothing more than to take her to bed and make her cum with nothing more playing with her tits.

She finishes her outfit off with a pair of summer wedges that bring her to almost his height, and show off her amazing pair of legs, especially in that skirt of hers. It's a long pink silk maxi skirt with a slit that gives him a tantalizing glimpse of her upper thigh that knocks him back to his wedding night and that sweet little garter belt, and removing it blindfolded, with his teeth.

His eyes dart up to hers, and he sees the heat there, her silver eyes fiery, eyeing him up, fuck, can they still get that quickie in?

There is a loud 'woop' from the pool and Eren is reminded very unhelpfully of their child, damn it. She gives him a secretive smile, leaning her head on her hand, "Nico had friends over?"

Eren nods as he puts some lunch meat into the fridge, feeling pouty, he shouldn't have allowed this, now he can't fuck his wife in peace like he'd wanted. Should have made Nico go over to a friend's house, maybe then he'd be upstairs with Mikasa already. "Should I go say hi? Or do you think that would embarrass him?" Eren is feeling a little vengeful, and he wants to watch the chaos occur so he nods at his dear wife, "I think he'd love that." And then, Eren opens up a brand new bag of chips and watches in amusement as his wife totally and completely melts the brains of six teenagers with nothing more than her mere presence. She walks out and almost immediately, a boy falls into the pool, another one slips through his inner tube, falling into the water and the other four are just mesmerized. She's talking, waving at them all, a sweet smile on her face, but each boy is just sitting there staring at her, mouths hung open like fish. She doesn't stay out there for very long, coming back in looking a little confused, "They're so quiet, were they like that for you baby? They barely spoke to me, I hope I made an okay impression, it's been a while since I've met Nico's friends." Eren assuages her worries, "Yeah Miks, they're teenagers, they're weird, don't worry about it." She nods, a little furrow in her brow as she thinks on it and he's quick to encourage her to go relax, "Go hangout upstairs, read a book or something, I'll be up in a bit after the boys leave." Mikasa smirks, an evil gleam in her eyes before she dances off towards the staircase, "I will Eren, but you know it's just so hot out today," she tugs on her skirt morosely, "I might have to take all my clothes off just for it to be bearable." She takes a few steps up the stairs, smiling at him teasingly, "I"ll be waiting." Little minx. Eren just hopes the boys leave soon, it's torture knowing his wife is upstairs patiently waiting for him to come and service her while he's down here making sure a bunch of brats don't drown.

Thankfully, they don't take too long to leave, only about a half an hour after Mikasa had went out, all the boys leave and Nico comes stomping into the kitchen to glare at him.

His child doesn't say much, just gives him a scathing glare his mother would be proud of.

"I hate you," is all he says before stomping off to his room.

Eren shrugs, his son should just be happy he'd stopped Mikasa from wearing a bikini, now THAT would have caused some upheaval, or sunbathing for that matter. Really, as Eren heads upstairs towards their bedroom, sending his lovely wife upstairs to wait for him had been a favour to his son.

Shutting the door to their bedroom he finds Mikasa exactly as she promised, totally naked and on his side of the bed, wearing his glasses she's stolen and reading a book, she looks downright delectable, really Eren is a great father, he doesn't understand what his son is complaining about.

#lys's drabbles

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oceanlandworld · 10 months

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#drugs

people insisting that psychedelics are a waste of time/completely ineffective if you take abilify is interesting to me.... i dont have as intense trips as i would if i wasnt on it i am sure but i still enjoy tripping. i think people who say this commonly don't smoke weed or use dissos when try trip (dissos makes psychedelics Very intense for me) but also i wonder if there's a component of biological habituation, like, ive been on abilify since i think 2017 or longer. was talking to a friend who was asking if she should stop meds to try and trip and honestly imo if you are on a med that is not likely to give you serotonin syndrome in combination with psychs i would just take your meds as usual, accept that you might not trip balls but will probably still Have a Time, and dose higher next time if needed

but also low dose/low intensity trips are fun!!! you can go outside and be around people (sometimes) without feeling as scared and disoriented!!!

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writingseaslugs · 2 years

Note

I love you and your writing thank you for existing but but but I wanna hear more of that story where you painting the nails of that body builder guy ajdheshdhdh

Broski, I am so happy you like my writing. Gives me a dose of serotonin. And at least one person is happy I’m existing today because I wrote cursed Floyd content to show to my friends and pretty sure they’re planning my murder rn.

The full story is: I went to beauty school when I was still 17 years old. I was the youngest one there. I was also super socially awkward and didn’t know anyone there, so when we were told to partner up, I kinda hid away. Once it was determined I needed someone (there was an odd number of students) they decided to go and get one of the seniors of the school.

So they asked the class who were on the cutting floor and the girls were all like “Hey, it’s Todd’s birthday (not his actual name)! He should get a manicure!” So they drag Todd upstairs into the classroom. Now mind you, I am very social awkward, especially at this time. This guy was easily twice my age and towered over me. I’m a pretty average height, not short but not tall. This guy was a head and a half taller. Built like a freaking BRICK HOUSE!

He was a body builder and a retired cop. So this guy has muscles for his muscles. He sits down at my little set up and I’m like looking up at him in fear. I’m like shitting myself. How do I talk to this person? I don’t know how to speak to adult men. I can talk to other teenagers but not this dude. These were all my thoughts. I guess he got I was awkward as he didn’t force conversation.

We do the basics of the manicure, and when we get to the arm massage, I try lifting his arm. My hand couldn’t even wrap around it. I have small twink hands, ya feel? Not even both my hands could fit around this man’s forearm. He laughs and has to lift his arm up for me to actually give him a massage.

Now I’m trying my best, giving it my all for this massage. I’m putting all my wristussy into this massage. I look up at him and notice he has no reaction. So I ask if he can even feel what I was doing. He admitted it felt like a kitten pawing at his arm. All my confidence just shot down. He told me it was fine since normally you’d have to do a deep tissue massage for him to feel anything.

After the manicure is over, I go to shake this man’s hand. I swear I felt like my arm was yanked out of my freakin socket. I probably gave him the look of the most submissive and breedable gamer boy because he had to apologize and felt genuinely bad.

Anyway, that was my experience with…Todd. He was a pretty chill dude at the school though. Kinda an asshole, but he was chill with me so it was all fine. Needless to say, I did not make my career doing nails, but thankfully I wasn’t going to school for it. Just a mandatory class we had to take.

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diovstheworld · 1 year

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Star Boy - Donatello Versus

something not la squadra related for once. written just for fun in some moments of me being sad and needing a serotonin boost and this guy was on my mind :) sorry for any errors, i’m not from florida nor am i from anywhere warm (scotland’s weather is not the best lmaooo) so please bare with me and thank you for reading :) p.s. i apologise for my writing abilities, they get worse every time 😭

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

The first thing Donatello felt was the chill of the summer wind against his sensitive ivory skin, the gentle breeze tickling the fluffy platinum blonde hairs on his slender arms. He wasn’t wearing his usual white hoodie adorned with blue pockets, though the garment wasn’t too far away from him, wrapped around his waist and grazing his slender hips. He didn’t anticipate that he would feel the cold but he thought it best to bring some sort of garment nonetheless. Plus he didn’t want to be sitting on the ground in just his jeans when he inevitably stopped for a break. After all, this walk didn’t have no purpose. The blonde took a few more steps down the pavement before a melody fluttered through the air that seemed to be coming from some beach party in the distance. Donatello could only see the smoke of a log fire (or perhaps a man made barbecue), but he knew the irritating sound waves of the bad pop song were bound to get stuck in his head later. For a brief moment, he contemplated silencing said beach party and the loud bass of the pop (actually, now he thought about it, it sounded more like rap) song by using Underworld to create some disaster. But even he thought this was rather extra to go to such extremes to silence some shitty music. Besides, he could always just put in his— his own thoughts were stopped as he felt around the front and back pockets of his dark wash denim jeans before his hands landed to a bulge in his hoodie pocket. Panic over. His beloved airpods were sleeping peacefully in their case. Not that this treasured possession of his even belonged to him. They belonged to some kid on the bus that had dropped them on accident, and, as the saying goes, finders keepers, right? Donatello hadn’t alerted Rikiel and Unaglo of this fact. Not that Unaglo would care, but Rikiel would probably go into panic mode of some sorts. Ah yeah, that dumb kid from the bus. He remembered him very well; the kid stunk of weed which he was desperately trying to mask with an overpowering dose of Lynx Africa (not very well Donatello might add). He remembered the boy’s attitude had stunk just as much as the stale odour that clung to his body. Donatello couldn’t help but feel that perhaps he deserved to lose his airpods after the way he shoved an old lady down the stairs. Though he didn’t dare utter those words out loud. He didn’t want to get any bad karma. He already had enough shitty luck to last him a lifetime and beyond. He was shocked this little blessing of good luck hadn’t caused a shit ton of bad luck to rain down on him if he was being totally honest. Plus it seemed a waste of his time to overreact on silly little events of the past right now. Though, it was really events of his past that even brought him to the golden sands of the Floridian coast on this summer evening. Ah, cue Donatello doing what he does best: put on music to drown out negativity and the bullying thoughts that came from his brain while taking a stroll away from his brothers who only seemed to aggravate him even more when he was in a bad mindset. In went the ‘stolen’ airpods, left bud in before the right. Alice In Chains started playing immediately as the bud made contact with his ears. Dam That River was the song. He really liked that one. Though he was a big lover of rock music in general. Rock music was quite literally his rock. He found so much comfort in the sounds of loud guitar and heavy bass and gruff vocals. Being alone with his thoughts felt much less intimidating when he had some music to accompany him. And tonight, that was just what the doctor ordered. Nothing made Donatello feel more comforted than the sound of bass guitars and drum solos. It felt like being wrapped in cotton wool and his ears were full of delight. Actually, to say there was nothing he loved more than rock music was untrue.

Donatello Versus loved the stars, he always had done. He didn’t know a single thing about them, sure. Couldn’t even name a constellation. But being acquainted with the night sky and knowing every element of its past was not what he wanted anyway. Donatello simply appreciated those little dots millions of light years away being here for him no matter what. This was the purpose of tonight’s walk. Those negative thoughts were catching up to him, and with his brain so far down the rabbit hole of self deprecation, a night out with the stars was what this blonde haired boy needed to take a breather and escape from the harsh realities of life. His ideal spot for stargazing was the beach. He enjoyed the feeling of the soft sand beneath his dark jeans, feeling like a comforting hug from the earth. The sand would be starting to cool off after the long day of heat from the summer sun and the reflection of the moon against the surface of the tranquil sea as the last of the days waves crashed and faded against the golden grains of sand that surrounded him felt like heaven. Well, that’s what his idea of heaven would be. A plane of existence where only he existed, surrounded by the cosmic beauties in the sky, azure waves lapping against golden sands. Of course it felt other worldly. And being in another world was certainly better than being in his apartment with his two brothers. Though Versus would call it a ‘shit hole’ more than a house. The small apartment was pretty run down, all the furniture coming from those who lived there before. Not that the boys cared that much. They didn’t have the funds to buy new furniture. Plus a few broken springs and lack of seat padding on a sofa never killed anyone. In all honesty, Versus and Unaglo were just happy to even have a sofa. After having experienced the beds of prison, this beaten up piece of furniture that one would normally call trash was like lying on a pile of clouds to them. Though it seemed like Versus was annoyed at everything, he always appreciated little things like this. Though the furniture wasn’t the only thing that drove them crazy from time to time, it was more so their shower. The shower that Donatello Versus hated with a passion. When they had first moved in, it had taken him a while to learn how to use it, until he learned that he had to hold in the on switch for a while to get it going, then wait about the length of a shower to let the water heat up. The boys had learned the trick of putting the shower on 20 minutes before they wanted to wash so the shower was at a bearable temperature to clean themselves. It was no wonder Versus wanted out the house so often. And his time with the stars seemed to take his mind off it all and for even just a few moments, the weight of the world no longer sat heavy on his shoulders.

Versus often felt bad that his relationship with the stars was one sided. These celestial beauties gave him a chance to destress and clear his mind, yet he gave nothing in return. Though, what could he possibly give to the stars? Nothing really came close to the calmness of the night sky, so any offers to it were meaningless. Plus Donatello didn’t have much to give to anyone, let alone the night sky. With a heavy sigh, Donatello finally reached his usual spot on top of the sand dunes. It felt as though he had been walking for quite some time, and so he had. The sun was at the start of the setting period and golden flecks of fading sunlight were beginning to scatter across the sea, and Donatello felt the first wave of happiness today wash over him. Another sigh escaped his pale lips, though this time it was one of content as he sat himself down on the sand. Yep, just the right temperature that he liked, though he expected nothing less at this time in the evening. And so he got comfortable, laying back on the dunes, small blades of stray grass poking his back though it felt more like a itchy woollen blanket against his back. Not comfortable, but also not uncomfortable. With the summer sun fading fast, he got to experience all sorts of pastel colours; yellow to orange, pink to purple, and finally, to the deep blue he had been waiting for. It was around 8:30pm now, and there they were, his friends from hundreds of light years away.

Suddenly the reason for Donatello coming out tonight had slipped his mind. All the negative thoughts around his past that had been getting him down this evening seemed to melt into a little puddle of nothing. For the first time in a while, he felt free of the thoughts that had been keeping him prisoner. And he even felt grateful for his brothers in this moment. Sure they annoyed the hell out of him, but they weren’t that bad. The blonde couldn’t hold back the little smile that came to his face. It was a rare sight to see him smile, but he truly felt happy in this moment. “Thank you…” he whispered to the stars, though this moment of gratitude was also aimed at Rikiel and Unaglo. With his years of bad luck and prison cells, Versus had never really taken the time to think about the good place he was in now. Maybe his ‘shitty life’ wasn’t so shitty after all.

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

if you read all this thank you so much and i apologise for my poor skills in writing endings to my writing 😭

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