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jazjelspen · 1 month

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my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat.

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically.

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking.

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that.

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin.

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear.

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here.

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at.

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before.

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff.

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have.

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies.

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks.

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets.

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell.

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc.

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life.

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him.

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do.

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show.

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive.

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness.

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement.

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..'

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment.

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile.

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before.

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind.

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up!

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.."

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach.

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest.

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do.

“_____?”

“Yes?..”

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice..

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work.

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day.

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too.

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands.

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall.

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

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velteris · 2 months

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If Zoltraak so OP, why doesn’t Frieren/Copyren use it to fight each other?: a silly tactics essay

Madhouse is absolutely killing it with their gorgeous fight scenes that also make more sense the more you dig into them. In this episode, it's the senior citizen fight scene, where Frieren busts out the scary spells for the first time after telling us that Zoltraak is fast, efficient, powerful, the best combat spell etc etc. So why don't they use it against each other? The answer is this 2-second scene:

Let’s review what we’ve been told about Zoltraak. It’s “piercing magic that pierced through the defensive magic of humans and magic resistant equipment, and directly destroyed the body”. Zoltraak is generally good at destroying physical things.

In turn, the hexagonal shield magic—as Qual deduces—“synchronises with offensive magic and disperses the power”. But this costs lots of mana, and is weak against attacks of physical mass.

The rock-paper-scissors of modern magic is, then, Zoltraak-shield-physical mass.

Another note: it seems possible to cast both a shield and another offensive magic (maybe only Zoltraak?) at the same time, as in Frieren and Denken’s duel, and as with Methode vs golems.

Back to the Frierens.

Zoltraak is fast, efficient in mana usage, and powerful. It’s “enough for mages of the modern era”. Frieren and Fern usually spam this one spell; Copyren also uses it against Denken and co. So they would like to open with it.

Knowing that, they both bring up the hexagonal shield, ready to disperse Zoltraak. But, they both realize that Frieren’s Zoltraak cannot defeat Frieren’s hexagon shield. Edel states the two methods of getting past a shield: breaking it by force, or bypassing it with speed. Neither can get a single Zoltraak off strong enough that can shatter the corresponding shield, so they start shifting their aim, but they react just as fast to each other so there’s no openings.

Then what about multiple Zoltraaks? Presumably they could both keep the shields up while also casting Zoltraak, so they could turtle down into a battle of attrition and see who makes a minor inefficient mistake. But! Copyren is facing two mages, not one. It will definitely lose in a shield-whittling contest. Even if they had infinite mana, if they sit there playing chicken with the shields, Fern will eventually blast it from behind.

Additional hypothesis: the mana used to defend against an attack with a hexagon shield will always be greater than the mana used to make the attack. Therefore, a mage should aim to always be on the offensive. In Ehre vs Fern, Fern kept creating distance and refused to get pinned down; Ehre got pinned down and that’s why she lost. Both Frierens have a motive to use as little defensive magic and as much offensive magic as possible.

Sadly, it’s a pretty empty room, with not much physical mass to use against each other; Copyren in particular probably wants to avoid eating up the walls of Spiegel’s hideaway. So they need to cast offensive magic, that isn’t Zoltraak, and that doesn’t need existing physical mass.

Before Zoltraak leading to shield leading to mass attacks, it’s likely there wasn’t that much of a need for physical mass specifically. Edel says it takes more mana to conjure than it does to manipulate the environment. But if mass isn’t a requirement, then ye olde mages probably wouldn’t have focused on magics with the weakness of, say, needing a water source nearby (sorry Kanne). It makes sense that old-fashioned attacks were therefore magics that expressed some kind of energy without significant mass: fire, lightning, wind. (Ty @wtfoctagon for laying out this pre-Zoltraak idea!)

Simultaneously, this brings up an interesting question: what kind of defence were pre-Zoltraak (therefore pre-hexagon) mages using?

1. Some other [Defence Magic], but weaker

2. A Warrior

3. More offence!

Forget this newfangled modern mass stuff. Frieren and Copyren go right back to Cast Fireball, the force of which can be dissipated and defended against with Cast Fireball.

Not using the hexagonal shield is actually a more mana-efficient defence. If Zoltraak’s out of the question, then there’s no real need to invest in the heavy anti-Zoltraak shield. And we have already seen a previous example of offence as defence: Fern vs Lugner.

We also see one more example of this kind of old-fashioned mass-less attack in the other senior citizen brawl, where Denken uses Waldgose (tornado) + Daosdorg (fire). It eats up enough mana that even Denken is tapped out by the end. Of course, for Frieren vs Denken, she has so much more mana that there’s no problem spending it on a full-body shield. But if she did the same versus her clone, she would rapidly start losing the attrition battle. So she has to defend with a less costly though much messier method.

One more advantage of non-mass elemental magic: for Copyren, using Hellfire magic is much more of an area-of-effect spell, which might be able to touch Fern as well. For Frieren, it’s a no-brainer to go along with splashing mana everywhere, to help hide Fern’s presence.

Of course, that’s not to say that they won’t take advantage of mass when it exists. The use of Hellfire to make lava out of the falling pillar/wall is a delicious and nutritious anime original addition, and it also makes so much sense.

tl;dr: the Frierens tested and discarded the possibility of a modern-style Zoltraak fight in as much time as it takes us to say "holy shit".

all this of course brings up the question:

If Frieren so OP against Zoltraak, why can Fern use Zoltraak?

because Fern’s OP OP Zoltraak go brrrrr

#frieren #sousou no frieren

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mikage-rehoe · 6 months

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“I’m so wet for you, Daddy… I can’t take it! I need you inside of me, please…”

“You’re such a good girl/boy, baby. Daddy loves rewarding his good girl/boy…”

For the SFW version, head over to Oh My Daddy! Collab.

Dividers c/o @/benkeibear + @/cafekitsune.

💋 This NSFW collab is open for artists and writers aged 18+ (no need to follow me); minors and ageless blogs are refrained from participating or I will automatically block you.

💋 The theme for this collab is all about hot, toe-curling, pussy-throbbing, thigh-clenching, mouth-drooling daddies/daddy-somethings. Perfect for those with a sudden case of daddy kink (like yours truly).

💋 Fandoms are the following: Haikyuu!!, Jujutsu Kaisen, Tokyo Revengers, Obey Me!, and Blue Lock. Characters should be aged-up or in their post-timeskip years in your works. Canon dads and senior-citizen-aged dads such as Daddy Toji and Coach Ukai Sr. etc are also allowed.

💋 All forms of work (art–especially moodboards, drabbles, longfics, oneshots, headcanons etc) and any genre are allowed. Dark content entries are also allowed, provided that they are properly tagged and all.

💋 FOR WRITTEN ENTRIES: The minimum word count is 500. If your work’s wc is more than 500, kindly add in a ‘read more’ to avoid dash clogging.

💋 TO JOIN: Send in via ask your daddy character of choice + if your entry will be art or writing. Please note each person/blog can only submit up to two entries. Character repetition is also allowed–each character can be used twice, but you cannot use the same character in all of your submitted entries.

Ex.g: “hiiiiii kisaaaaaa~!!! Can i join your collab with Daddy Sae from Blue Lock + art??? Ily mwah ♥️”, or, “ELLA CAN I WRITE FOR DADDY KUROO FOR YOUR COLLAB??? 🥵🥵🥵” sorry again 🙇🏻‍♀️ /gen

💋 There is no deadline to follow here (you can join in anytime), since we all have our personal stuff outside Tumblr to tend to, so take your time in doing your entries! Once done, tag me at @mikage-rehoe in your finished work/s and use the collab tag ‘#yesdaddycollab💋’ to track.

💋 If you have any questions regarding the collab, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask/DM via Tumblr or Discord (if we’re moots). Be a good girl/boy and enjoy writing/drawing! 😘

Reblogs highly appreciated! :3

💋 Haikyuu!!

@sir-kuroo - Kuroo Tetsurou

@kenslilove - Kuroo Tetsurou + Bokuto Koutarou

💋 Jujutsu Kaisen

@rinitxshi - Fushiguro Toji

@yuujispinkhair - Ryomen Sukuna

@bleach-your-panties - Kamo Noritoshi

@vemuabhi - Geto Suguru

@his-saiko - Nanami Kento

@4-20-69 - Fushiguro Toji

💋 Tokyo Revengers

@fubu18writes - Kakucho

@his-saiko - Hanma Shuji

@4-20-69 - Ryuuguji Ken

💋 Obey Me!

@cryptidtyping - Diavolo

💋 Blue Lock

@moonartemisia - Michael Kaiser 🎨

@sir-kuroo - Mikage Reo

@saenora - Itoshi Sae

@suyacho - Nagi Seishiro

#yesdaddycollab💋#kitty☆collabs #kitty☆thirsts #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader smut #blue lock smut #bllk smut #blue lock x reader smut #bllk x reader smut #anime collab

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help.

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers.

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed.

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need.

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout.

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute.

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her.

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long.

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?”

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.”

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows.

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate.

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!”

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!”

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying.

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit.

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh.

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease.

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood.

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…”

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.”

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you.

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly.

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it?

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.”

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.”

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid.

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up.

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes.

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible.

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured.

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up.

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it.

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously.

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief.

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you.

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer.

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression.

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg.

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.”

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses.

“Do what?”

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier.

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh.

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin.

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips.

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.”

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.”

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting.

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops.

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs.

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him.

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you.

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face.

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares.

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

#albl #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

1K notes · View notes

gyutarling · 4 months

Text

INFINITE

late night adventures with beomgyu...

♯ — beomgyu x gn!reader ⋆ fluff ⋆ wc 1.7k

warnings! — cursing, mentions of burning things, mentions of ghosts and death, catcher in the rye slander (not srs if u like that book thats cool!), a little pretentious, jokes about dating a senior citizen, lowercase intended, not proofread

note — went ballistic after gyu made an insta..... save me manic pixie dream boy..... save me....

“gyu, where are we even going?” you enquired. frankly, you were still a little grumpy from being woken up at 3 in the morning, with beomgyu outside your window holding your shoes, wordlessly telling you to follow him.

when no reply came after several pauses, you glanced over next to you, only to find him completely zoned out. you were about to open your mouth to snap at him, patience spreading thin from the sleepiness, but then he smiled.

“the library, we’re sneaking in.” he turned his eyes back to the road ahead after making eye contact with you, mischief still heavy on his cheeks.

what he said took you a few seconds longer to process. “oh, okay— wait. what?!” in your befuddled state, you stopped in your tracks, “what do you mean by ‘sneaking in’? why the library?” honestly, you were more surprised that you didn't have more questions, but then again, this is beomgyu, you wouldn't put something like this past him.

beomgyu casually fixed his bangs, “sneaking in as in, we’re gonna not-so-legally enter the library like, right now.” he stopped in front of said building, you didn’t even notice you had been walking for so long. “and the library because there's a book i wanna burn.”

you almost shouted out a question, if not for beomgyu placing his hand over your mouth when he saw you staring at him with wide eyes. “hush! we might get caught!” his hand dropped after he felt your tongue touching his palm, “gross! anyway, do you have a paperclip i can borrow? kinda need to pick this lock before we do the actual ‘sneaking in’ part.” he held out his hand as he inspected the lock.

“what the fuck? are you insane?!” you opted for whisper shouting instead. you take it back, just when you thought he couldn't get any crazier, he proves you wrong with his stupidly perfect smile that seems to grow wider with each late night adventure. “first of all, why did i have to come with? could you not have done this yourself? i don’t wanna get in trouble again.” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“this is a two-person operation! besides, it’s more fun this way. so sorry in advance if i do get us into trouble,” beomgyu whispered back, and by the dimple peeking out from his smirk, you can tell he didn’t mean his apology.

you let out a relenting sigh and handed him a paperclip, “okay, but second of all, what book got you so enraged that you just had to sneak into the town library at such an ungodly hour just to steal and burn it?”

“it’s not like it enraged me, i mean, books are supposed to make you feel intense things, so i would have liked it if it did enrage me,” beomgyu mindlessly spoke while fidgeting with the paperclip, “it’s ‘the catcher in the rye’, borrowed and finished it recently, and i don’t know, the main character is just such a whiny ass bitch boy. he’s got this whole self-loathing, self-aware hypocrite persona going on, and throughout the book he pretty much just talks and drinks and pities himself. i think the author tried to make him too relatable, to the point that he became unrealistic, if that makes sense,” he rambled on, “the only part i liked was near the end, the part with his sister was actually pretty well-written.”

“so you are enraged,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his mini rant, “you’re cute when you ramble, by the way.”

“hm, i’d say the word would be ‘unimpressed’, i just don’t like it.” he pretended to inspect the lock closer, yet still failing miserably at hiding his reddening cheeks. a few minutes after poking and moving the paperclip around inside the keyhole, you heard a click, and seconds later, you two were inside the pitch dark library. “alright, we’re in. the rest should be fairly easy.”

“hold on, one more question,” you realised as you took out your phone for the flashlight, “why didn’t you just do this when you still had the book? why did you have to return it and then come back?” you were too far into the theft and arson two-person operation to be angry at beomgyu for dragging you into it at this point. you were happy to be hanging out with him anyway.

“hey, this might make me a criminal, but i’m not a heathen. i return my shit, never had an overdue book in my entire life,” beomgyu bragged, “mrs. librarian is basically my best friend.”

“and yet you don’t know her name?” you laughed at his antics.

“i believe in the magic of mystery,” he said in an exaggerated fancy accent, “besides, names and such formalities are for first dates, which i might score one soon, heard her husband’s been out a lot.”

“gross, dude! she’s like 78!” you couldn’t help but to playfully shove him.

“and yet she remains such a radiant beauty, her prune-like visuals never fail to amaze me!” beomgyu emphasised even more, and you both couldn’t help but let out loud laughs you weren’t supposed to.

“how romantic, even shakespeare wouldn’t have been able to be as eloquent as you. save it for her, though, i don’t wanna hear about how you’re into an old, saggy woman who’s pushing 80.”

as the laughter died down, you two decided to split up to look for the object of beomgyu’s hatred. you were a little unsettled by the dark, this was a library after all, a very fitting place for a victorian ghost to haunt.

just when you were about to let out a breathy laugh at your own absurd thoughts, you heard a creaking noise. you quickly turned off your phone’s flashlight, this was it, you always knew beomgyu would lead to your downfall by baiting you to some supernatural entity. he probably made a deal with the devil and offered up your soul. no, scratch that, beomgyu is the devil himself—

“boo!” you let out a squeak and fell backwards, startled as you saw beomgyu with his flashlight shining from below his face. you breathed heavily, trying to catch up with the shock as he let out silent cackles. beomgyu might be even more evil than the devil.

“oh man, you should’ve seen your face!” he spitted out between laughter, but that abruptly stopped when you two heard the jingle of keys. you looked at beomgyu, panic still in your eyes, but for a different reason this time. you were still on the ground when he helped you up and dragged you to a corner, sandwiched between two bookshelves as he covered your mouth.

you didn’t know if you were dizzy from being out of breath, or the distance (or the lack thereof) between you and beomgyu. one hand covering your mouth, one hand on your waist to keep you steady, his equally fast breaths on your cheek. if you weren’t insane enough already, he gave you a reassuring squeeze, and leaned his forehead on yours from exhaustion. you wanted to stay like this forever.

of course, your dazed moment was interrupted by the lights of the library turning on, and then came the sound of approaching footsteps. your anxiety returned, and beomgyu glanced to the side just to quickly turn back.

“change of plans. fuck the book, we’re booking it.” he smiled. honestly, how can he have time for word play in such a predicament?

“what—” at that, he grabbed your hand and bolted out from between the shelves. you could hear the shouting of someone, presumably the security guard, but the buzzing adrenaline was louder. beomgyu hurriedly bursted through the doors that you both came in from, with your hands still connected, then down the streets. your legs burned, but at that point, you two were laughing like crazy. in the small, empty neighbourhood, well into the night, you swore you could take on anything if you had beomgyu by your side.

slowing down, he continued to hold onto your hand as you came to a stop. inhaling and exhaling rapidly, the rush died down and you noticed the delicate snowflakes that nipped at your skin. beomgyu seemed to notice as well, he stood up straight and stared upwards, mesmerised by the fluttering whiteness.

“it’s the first snow,” he mumbled, “you know, they say that seeing the first snow together with someone means you’ll be with them forever, and any wishes you make will come true.” he looked back at you, and you found yourself admiring his twinkling eyes.

“that’s pretty,” you smiled at him, “did you wish for anything?”

“yeah, i wished that you were mrs. librarian instead— hey, ow! i’m kidding!” beomgyu dramatically rubbed his arm after you very lightly and playfully punched him.

“moment ruined.” you said, unimpressed as beomgyu giggled.

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you continued watching the snow, it’s light enough to not be too cold, but cold enough for beomgyu to pull you closer to him, close enough for the moment to feel real.

“sorry you didn’t get to take out your burning anger on the book.” you slightly chuckled as you remembered the events of the night.

“it’s alright, didn’t matter too much to me,” he shrugged, “i didn’t even hate the book that much, just wanted an excuse to drag you out with me.”

you looked at him, stupefied, “so you couldn’t just ask me to hang out during the day like a normal person? what if that security guard was secretly a victorian ghost protecting the library? and what if said ghost happened to die from a thief who burned their house down?” you started exaggerating to show that you weren’t actually mad at him.

beomgyu jokingly scoffed at your silly rambling, “normal is boring, and from your whole spiel just now, you’re clearly not normal either, weirdo.” at that, you both smiled at each other.

beomgyu is truly beautiful, but especially when he smiles. the way his nose scrunches, pinkish from the cold, eyes turning into crescents with tiny sparkles in them. the way his lips curl up, matching the wispy ends of his soft-looking hair, framing his face perfectly. his smile is truly perfect.

in that moment, all you could feel was beomgyu and the world, both infinitely yours.

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

Text

Something to Fight For (Series) (PART FOUR)

Word Count: 6.8

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: THERE ARE SEXUAL THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER.

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

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

"You didn't!" Frank laughs as you pull out the gift certificate to Tipsy Bison and slide it across the counter to him.

"We did it," you say with a smug smile. "Finally put those bitches in their place."

Lightning crackles outside as if emphasizing your victory. The storm has been brewing intensely. You and Maria are standing in Frank's kitchen, half standing against the center kitchen island with freshly poured cups of tea the next morning.

Rain is coming down in torrents, lighting and thunder punctuating the normally placid weather.

"You didn't have to do that," Frank assures you, looking at the gift certificate with a tight-lipped smile. He turns the paper over a few times between his fingers.

"Yes we did," Maria says solemnly. You agree. Taking it from them had felt not only satisfying, but right.

Several months ago when you had first learned of trivia at the Tipsy Bison you, Maria, Frank and a very reluctant Bill had attended together. It was supposed to be a fun night out, a chance to distract yourself from your solitude.

Except Myrtle and the Merryatrics decided to make it their personal mission to make Bill and Frank feel as shitty and judged as possible.

Wincing when Frank or Bill touched hands. Making gagging noises when Frank laughed, putting his head on Bill's shoulder. Frank had gone red in the face, trying to ignore them but it was too late, the damage had been done.

It had all come to a head when Bill had passed Myrtle on his way to the commode and she'd called out an ugly slur under her breath, much to the tittering of her equally horrible tablemates.

You'd all heard it. You'd all seen it and both you and Maria held a visibility upset Frank by the hands, shielding him from their mockery and smirks as you left the pub seconds later at his request. An oblivious Bill had joined minutes later completely thrown as to why everyone was outside.

That night you and Maria had been fuming, trying to come up with something harmless but effective. You both come from a world where justice needs to be served. Getting revenge on a bunch of asshole senior citizens was hard when they had so little in their prejudiced lives to live for.

Screaming at them was what you wanted to do, but knew that revenge had to be better than that. Something that would really hurt them. Trivia night; that had been their Achilles heel. The one thing they had in their miserable lives.

And now you've brought back a small piece of that victory, like returning the shield of a slain warrior back to your king.

You reach into the drawer in the island, pulling out a pair of scissors and sliding them across the counter to Frank who smiles at you both with a teary grin.

"Wanna do the honors?"

Frank takes the scissors and with a flourish slices the certificate into several pieces before sweeping them into the garbage bin.

You and Maria give emphatic claps and whoops. It feels good, like the closing of a particularly ugly chapter. After a pause Maria is giggling gently. You and Frank exchange looks of amusement before she finally talks again.

"I also dropped off a particularly nasty note at their table when we left."

You dart a look over at Maria in surprise. "How? You were so hammered by the time we left you could barely stand."

"I wrote the note when I was sober," Maria says tapping her temple. "Had a feeling with we'd win with Joel there."

"Joel was there?" Frank says, his attention diverted. "The handsome one with the broad shoulders and ass that just will not quit?"

Frank says this with a sigh that borders on pornographic. You're thankful that Bill is working in the basement.

"Frank!" Maria says with a good-natured laugh. "You been perving on him when he comes to the house?"

"No just observing." Frank darts a look to you. "Had to see what he looked like after this one was complaining about him being about the worst person alive."

You don't say anything, choosing to focus on the milk that you are now mixing into your tea.

"Seemed like you two were getting along at trivia," Maria offers with a hopeful look in your direction before she looks back to Frank. "Plus she babysat his daughter."

You can feel Frank's incredulous gaze on you.

"So one week he's a nightmare come to life and now he's cool and you're hanging out at his place?"

Frank is now eyeing you with a curling grin.

"Babysitting isn't hanging out," you defend. "He was barely there."

"Did you snoop?" Maria giggles. "I always wondered what Joel's place was like."

"Boring," you answer honestly. "I thought with him being a carpenter there would be so much beautiful woodwork like in here. But nah, just a boring ol' box house."

Something about that house stands out in the back of your mind though and you can't help but ask. You turn to Maria, your cheeks warming from your tea.

"Do you know anything about his ex? There are no photos of her on the walls, not even from when Sarah was a baby."

"Maybe he doesn't wanna be reminded of her?"

"But when Sarah was at the office she mentioned she didn't have photos of her mom and Joel got all weird." You frown at the memory. "I just wondered if Tommy had ever mentioned anything."

"Not to me," Maria says. At this point Frank demands to hear more about her anniversary trip away and you turn your attention to the large windows and the rain that slides down them in rivulets.

//////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

The next morning you sit at your desk, making notes for Miller Construction to work off of when the work phone rings.

"Austin Rescue," you chirp in habit as you circle one of your notes.

"Hey, you got a sec?"

Joel's rumbling voice sounds through the speaker of the phone, startling you.

"Joel? How did you get this number?"

There's a pause where you almost feel Joel rolling his eyes at you before he replies flatly.

"Phonebook."

"Right," you nod tapping your pen anxiously against the desk as you run through a list of reasons why he would be calling. "Is everything okay? Did the -"

"Everything's fine."

You can hear him clear his throat awkwardly.

"Okay."

You let the silence continue, a bit confused as to why he is speaking so stilted.

But then again after the pub maybe he doesn't know where you stand. You're not really sure yourself. It seemed like you two had gotten on pretty well the other night, but maybe you're remembering it incorrectly now that you don't have the hazy glow of victory flooding you.

"You mentioned being free to babysit Sarah again back at the pub." Joel sounds as if he's pacing slowly back and forth when he's talking. "Wondered if that was still a possibility?"

"Uh, sure," you nod glancing at your wristwatch. "When?"

"You free tonight by any chance?"

"Oh, that's soon," you say as if it weren't obvious. You think of what time the next bus will come and if it takes you by Rancher Street.

"I know its last minute and I'm happy to pay you whatever you think is fair."

You smile at his earnestness. "Don't think you can afford me, Miller."

You almost feel like you can hear him smile on the other end of the phone.

"Plus an extra fifteen dollar Tipsy Bison gift certificate that you can shove in Myrtle’s face."

You can't help but laugh gently at that. "What time are you thinking?"

"Seven."

You look again to see you have a few hours. "Yeah that works."

"Great."

You go to hang up when you hear the catch in Joel's tone.

"Uh, one thing, can you tell her that sugar monsters aren't real? She's been sleeping in my room all fucking week."

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

Why you didn't bring a jacket today is beyond you. A decision built on a house of cards made of asinine assumptions.

You had assumed you'd be going right home after work instead of traveling over to Rancher Street.

You had assumed the blue sky of the morning would hold out until the evening.

You had assumed that you wouldn't find a hole in the bottom of your boot as you walked up the sidewalk to Joel's house in a downpour.

These assumptions have you dripping wet and shivering when you finally get to the house, knocking feebly. Joel swings the door open, about to say something when he stops. His eyes swim all over your body, no doubt observing your drenched state.

"You're soaked," Joel says after a beat, clearing his throat. "Uh, lemme get you a towel."

You enter the house with a sniff, toeing off your books and glancing around to see it looks cleaner than the last time you were here. None of Sarah’s toys litter the carpet; no bowls of cereal lay on the table. Joel reappears a few minutes later handing you a fresh-smelling towel. You thank him, throwing it over your shoulders.

"Sorry I'm late," you say pushing the damp hair from your eyes. "First bus was full so I had to wait for the next one. Then the fucking sky opened up and well, you know."

You motion to your soaking body and Joel looks strangely upset. A quick scan of him indicates you’re here to babysit Sarah so he can go on a date, probably with the waitress. To you it seems obvious in the jeans he’s picked (dark wash, a bit tighter in the thighs than you’ve seen him wear before) and the light blue button down shirt he wears rolled just below the elbows.

He’s also got fuck-me hair.

Fuck-me hair is a phrase that you and Maria had come up with in college. Invented for frat boys that took hours to artfully arrange their hair to look slightly disheveled, as if they’d just had a good fucking. You don’t know if Joel’s is intentional or not, but he definitely has it.

He watches you silently dab at your clothes with the towel before rubbing it over your hair. You must look a state. You probably have fuck-this-rain hair. You follow him into the kitchen, still sniffling as he goes to the coffee maker.

"Here, drink this," he says sliding a mug of warm coffee in your direction. You take it with thanks, basking in the warmth of the liquid spreading through your body. His coffee is strong, you realize, wincing as the acidic burn hits you belatedly.

“No good?”

“Wish it was a mocha,” you admit. “I like strong coffee to taste like a dessert. Save your judgments because I can tell just by looking at you that you’re a coffee purist.”

Joel about to reply when his phone buzzes and he picks up, moving to the other room. There’s the sound of his low murmur and then you can hear tiny feet making their way down the stairs and you smile. Sarah squeaks when she come around the corner and sees you, running over with a stack of playing cards.

"You’re here!”

“I am,” you laugh.

“Daddy's teaching me Go Fish!"

"I love that game," you enthuse, smiling down at her. She seems to notice your damp apparel and towel slung over your shoulders because she looks you over, her tiny nose wrinkling.

"Why are you all wet? Did you go swimming?"

You laugh. "No. It's just really pouring outside."

Sarah clamors onto the chair next to you, placing the deck of cards on the table between you. You begin a new round when Joel reappears into the kitchen looking embarrassed. The tips of his ears are red, a telltale sign that you noticed last time as well.

"Place is closed 'cause of the storm. Blackouts all over apparently. Rescheduled with her for another-“ he stops himself as if this detail isn’t relevant to you or for his young daughter. “Guess you came all this way for nothing."

You smile down at Sarah, playing with a strand of her coiled hair absently.

"I wouldn't say that."

Sarah smiles up at you before her attention is back on the cards in her hands. You look over to Joel to see him staring at you, only jolting to action when your eyes meet his.

"Lemme give you cab money," he says going to reach for his wallet. You hold a hand up in his direction, waving it away.

"Please," you shake your head. "It's no problem. The bus comes by, like, every ten minutes and I’m already dressed for the weather."

It's more like every thirty but you don't want to make him feel bad. And if you get soaked, oh well, it's not that long a bus ride home. Sarah is watching you and her father with a quirk of her brow.

"Please take the money," Joel insists, his voice bordering on desperate. You can tell he feels awful for all of this.

"How about I just borrow an umbrella?" You ask, motioning to the one at the door. "I'll bring it back next time I see you."

Joel doesn't seem enthused by this compromise but he nods, turning from you and heading to the pantry.

“How about some mac ‘n cheese, Sar-bear?”

“You said we could get pizza,” Sarah scowls over her cards at her father.

“Well there’s a bunch of blackouts from the storm,” Joel reasons. “So I think it’s best if I make us something. Otherwise you might be waiting hours for something to eat. Your choice.”

Joel leans back against the counter, his arms crossed as he waits for her reply. You wonder if he’s serious, if he’ll actually let her choose. Your parents never gave you choices. It was eat or go hungry.

Sarah sighs heavily at this disruption to her night, her disappointment palpable. “Mac n’ cheese.”

Joel smiles and gets to work filling a pot with water in the nearby sink. You decide this is a good time to make a quick exit. You stand only to feel Sarah's tiny hand shoot out to clamp around the waist of your sweater.

"Wait!" Sarah pleads with you, pulling gently. "No! Don't go!"

"Sarah," Joel warns sternly from his place beside the stove. He's placing the pot there, twisting the switch to turn on the heat.

Sarah's eyes are huge in her tiny face. She looks so concerned that you drop to your knees, gripping her tiny hands in yours and looking at her earnestly.

"I’ll come back when your Daddy goes out next time," you promise. "I’ll bring cupcakes and we can decorate ‘em. What do you think of that?"

You can see Sarah's chin starting to wobble, her eyes filling with tears as she nods. She's clearly overtired, rubbing her eyes as she begins to whine.

"But you just got here."

You shoot a desperate look at Joel, expecting him to look frustrated. Instead he looks bemused at you, indicating to the pot bubbling on the stovetop with a tilt of his head.

"Any chance you wanna stay for dinner?"

///

“Thanks for the dry clothes," you tell Joel as you move into the seat opposite him next to Sarah. You're dressed in one of Joel's soft grey t-shirts and basketball shorts that go past your knees. Not exactly your sexiest look, but very welcome considering your other clothes were soaked.

Joel glances up at you as you slide into your chair, smiling at Sarah’s already cheese-covered face.

"You stuff should be outta the dryer in an hour or so," he answers gently, spooning noodles onto Sarah's plate as quickly as she can eat them. You have to admit that after a few spoonfuls you understand her culinary exuberance – it’s really tasty.

You and Joel chat about the unexpected downpour, the sound of thunder in the back of your talks like some grim portend of doom. Joel brings over the salad bowl and steaming garlic bread still wrapped in its foil.

“I noticed you have that big tree out front of where you work,” Joel is saying as he cuts the bread into slices. “Ever worry it’ll fall?”

“Never thought about it,” you answer truthfully. In all honesty you’re so tunnel-vision-ed when it comes to work that anything outside the four walls seems like an ancillary detail to you. Sarah is tugging on your elbow and look over at her.

“Can we decorate blueberry cupcakes next time? Those are my favorite.”

You pause thinking about what’s available at the grocery store. “I can see what they have.”

Joel spoons a second helping of noodles onto your plate without being asked after you inhale the first. You thank him before turning your attention back to Sarah who has been in the middle of telling you both a very long, very serious dream she had involving my Little Pony and killer insects

"And there's was huge a huge uh, uh bee," Sarah stammers excitedly. "And it poked my arm and the pony she uh-uhh, she ran away so fast."

Joel nods, cutting off another piece of bite-sized garlic bread for her. She pops it into her mouth with her fingers, momentarily silencing her tale. Joel takes advantage of this, glancing your way.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"I think so," you answer thoughtfully. "I wasn’t exactly thrilled with having to spend the grant money on the office, but I’m trying to be positive about it. Might be nice to walk on floorboards without threat of a hospital visit.”

Joel smiles at this.

"I gotta ask, is this Kraft dinner?” you ask, looking down at the noodles. “Because it’s really-“

"Not a fucking chance," Joel interrupts clearly affronted as you laugh. “You think I’d feed my kid that junk?”

"Daddy you said f-" Sarah begins, her mouth full.

"Oops," Joel interjects before she can finish, his face serious. "That's a bad word. I shouldn't have said it."

You hide your smile behind your water glass, taking a big gulp and chortling. Joel smirks over at you, his gaze dropping when you dribble your water down your chest.

"Oopsy," Sarah says as she notices.

"Oh for-" you stop yourself from swearing just in time. You grab a napkin and blot at the ever expanding water stain. You give a half chuckle of disbelief at yourself.

"Seems I'm determined to stay wet."

As soon as the words leave your mouth you hear a fork clatter onto a plate. You glance up to see a pink-cheeked Joel going to pass you a fresh napkin but his elbow hits the bowl of salad, toppling it to the floor.

"Fuck," Joel hisses, dropping down to pick up the mess. Sarah watches the top of his head solemnly.

"Daddy you said-"

"I know, sweetheart," Joel grumbles.

You go over, helping him scoop the wilted leaves and assorted vegetables back into the bowl.

"At least you didn't put dressing right in it," you offer with a smile. "That would've been a pain to clean."

Joel is knelt so close to you that you can see the defined hair of his beard when you glance up at him in between scoops. He's staring at you, his mouth slightly parted. You feel insecure at the scrutiny, your brows furrowed.

"What?"

Joel's looks like he wants to reply but then his eyes drop to your mouth and your heartbeat quickens.

"Daddy, can we watch The Little Mermaid?"

The moment is broken by Sarah's shrill cry from above you at the table. You laugh awkwardly as you sit back on your heels.

"Course sweetheart," Joel nods, helping her down from her chair. "You know how to work the machine."

Sarah bounces excitedly from her father, darting into the next room. You can hear the sound of DVD's being shuffled and you look back to Joel whose eyes are on your face again.

"Thanks so much for dinner," you say continuing to pick up the vegetables. "It was delicious, 'side from the salad of course."

Joel breaks into an easy grin at this, the boyish dimple clear in his cheek. You find you can’t look at him too long or you start to feel warm. And you shouldn’t feel warm about Joel fucking Miller for a lot of reasons; most importantly you’re only here because he was going on a date with a cute waitress.

You hear the gentle buzz of the drier finishing its cycle and you stand quickly.

“I better grab those and head out,” you reason glancing at the clock on the wall. “Got a lot to finish before you guys come this week.”

///////

Its hours later in your suite with rain still pelting against your windows. The lightning is sharp and the thunder rattles your window frame when it arrives. The fireplace is on, making your studio glow peacefully.

"C'mon," James pants from underneath you, his hips jerking up. He gives your ass a light slap. "C'mon sweetheart. Ride this cock hard."

James came to go over any last minute additions for construction tomorrow. When he saw how stressed you were he'd suggested a way to take your mind off things.

Now you're riding him in your bed, his hands on your tits as he thrusts up into you. You can't help but feel underwhelmed. James is so fast, so quick, which doesn't lead to a very pleasurable experience.

James also likes to hear himself talk, which would be nice if it wasn't so cock-centered. ("Come on this cock baby" "gonna stuff you full of this cock" and his personal favorite "take my cock").

It takes a lot of concentration, wriggling and clit stimulation from your covert hand to get you to come and when you do it's barely a whimper. James doesn't care - he follows soon after, his face reddening as he chokes out how good you feel. You both collapse next to each other on your narrow mattress.

"Maybe I should stay the night," James murmurs against the top of your head as he circles you in his arms. "Maybe a little morning delight before work?"

Sex with Paul was nice if not a little boring. Sex with James is intense if not unsatisfying. You feel like a sexual Goldilocks, forever trying to fight the right porridge. And right now all you want to do is sleep.

"I'm pretty exhausted," you say faking a yawn. "Think I need a good night’s sleep and I can see ya tomorrow.”

He hides his disappointment behind a shrug before pulling back from you.

You tell yourself that sexual compatibility isn't always perfect the first time around. That it takes communication and time to perfect. This is what you remind yourself as James excuses himself to the bathroom to wash up.

He’s almost there when something catches his eyes and your gaze follows his over to your sofa. You can see Joel’s clothes there, crumpled. You intend on washing and bringing them back the next time you babysit.

“Whose are these?”

James’ tone is light, but you can sense the unspoken tension.

“Joel’s,” you answer, pulling the sheet of the bed over your chest. “I was babysitting earlier and got caught in a downpour.”

“You could’ve called me,” James says tightly. “I’d have driven you.”

“It’s fine,” you say waving away his concern. You pull on a robe, stretching and padding over to the sofa to stand next to him. “I’m gonna wash ‘em and give them back next time I babysit.”

“You’re sitting for him again?” James is staring at you with a look you don’t enjoy. It’s suspicious. “Thought it was a one-off. S’what you said it was when we chatted.”

“Yeah but his daughter is actually amazing and he’s not so bad once you get past the grumpy exterior.” You shrug, giving him a peck on his cheek. James seems soothed by this gesture and nods before heading into the bathroom.

You look down at the clothes when the door closes, your forefinger trailing over the shirt. It’s soft and warmed from the fire. Without thinking you raise the shirt to your nose and inhale. It smells like Joel’s laundry detergent.

You start when there's a knock at you suites door, dropping the shirt back onto the sofa like you’ve been caught doing something illegal. You check your watch to confirm that yeah, it's late, almost eleven, and frown.

It's not Maria, she'd just come through the inside entrance. You pad over to an increasingly rapid knock and pull open the door, shocked at the figure standing there waiting.

"Joel?"

He's completely soaked from the rain, droplets slipping down the end of his nose. Thunder booms behind him as he looks at you from under the brim of his cap. His eyes trail quickly over your robe before jumping back to your face.

“I’m sorry it’s so late.”

"Come in," you urge, closing the door after him and pulling the nearby towel from the kitchen hook.

His dark eyes scan the room as he enters and you wonder what he sees in your modest studio. You know for a fact the bed is unnaturally disheveled and you pray he doesn't notice his clothes in a pile on the sofa.

"Won't stay long," he finally says taking the towel and wiping his face. "I didn’t have your cell. I'm here to make sure about that tree by your building. When's the last time an arborist had been out to see it?"

"I couldn't say," you shrug before calling over your shoulder to James.

James exits the bathroom at your call, rubbing at his nose. He sees Joel and comes striding over.

"Everything okay, bud?'

Bud? You frown over at James at this. You’ve never heard him use this term before. Joel is suddenly tense, his eyes darkening as he scans James’ face.

"I couldn't remember the last time the arborist was out to give updates on that big oak outside the building," you explain to James. "Do you?'

"Years probably," James shrugs. "Why?"

"Because, bud," Joel expels this word as if it disgusts him. "When I saw it during the walk through I made a note that it looked pretty shaky. Was gonna call a guy I know to give an idea on safety but he charges a bundle and I wanted to make sure you hadn't already had a recent visit. Then this rainstorm started and hasn't let up and now the wind so I thought I'd come and check before its too late."

“Door to door service,” James observes with a flat look.

“Didn’t have her number,” Joel explains motioning to you and looking irritated at having to explain himself to James.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," James assures from behind you. "That tree has been there for decades of storms just like this one."

"I had no idea you had a background in horticulture," Joel says in a voice that verges on challenging.

James steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours.

"Well if your friend charges a bundle to tell people to unnecessarily uproot old trees I guess I went into the wrong career," James laughs obnoxiously.

Your eyes ping pong in between the men, confused as to where all of this animosity is coming from.

"Is it really necessary if it's that expensive?" You ask Joel, your mind going back to her already feeble budget.

Joel's eyes drift back over to you and you’re thankful to see that they lose some of their chill. "I think ---"

"It's not," James answers for Joel. His arm slips around your waist. "We'll see you tomorrow then, Joel? Unless there's something else?"

Joel looks thunderous. And you're strangely embarrassed for him. You move back from James, out of his touch.

"Your choice."

Then he's gone, handing you back the towel and yanking the door open. You watch his broad shouldered frame move out the door and into the pouring night.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

When you see the flooding in the morning of the construction job, you assume that you're imagining things.

It's not until you wade in feeling the damp soak into your shoes that reality sets in.

Water is everywhere. The storm knocked over the tree Joel warned you about. It shattered the window, cracking the widow frame. Glass is all over the buckling floor planks.

It also brought in the rain.

Waterlogged files swollen with rot. Wood flooring planks warped and buckled. It's worse than you thought.

James enters quickly after you looking even more devastated than you. He rushes to his desk, pulling open the locked drawer with trembling fingers.

"The blueprints," he tells you as he begins to dig in the drawer. "I never made backup copies."

"He told us," you say through burning eyes. "Joel told us about the tree and we just -"

"How was I supposed to know a tree that hasn't given us any issues in the last ten years was gonna crash through the window? Huh?" James suddenly sobers when he sees your wet eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

You want to be mad at James, but seeing how sorrowful he is makes you realize that this is just an awful mistake that no one, save for an overpriced arborist, could have accurately predicted.

"There's no point in fighting," you say shaking your head. "What's done is done."

By the time Joel and Tommy arrive minutes later you're still trying to locate all the items that were once on your desk and are now in the shallow puddles and debris.

Tommy offers a low whistle when he walks in, his eyes large. Joel follows suit, offering a soft "fuck" when he sees the damage.

You’re still searching amongst the water, coming upon the trinkets you had in your desk, the jelly bean bowl, all of it is submerged in a thin layer of water and debris. The framed photos on your desk, the ones of Pongo and your parents are warped and impossible to decipher. You only know it's them by the frames that hold them and this is what breaks you.

"No," you utter in a low moan when you see them. "No."

The tears have sprung up, ones you keep hidden away, locked in your soul. They've escaped, slipped past your heart's jailer and are spilling brutally down your cheeks.

James comes loping over, his eyes wide and nervous.

"Are you okay?" James broaches gently placing a palm on your shoulder. "Can I do anything?"

The tears are warm and wet and despite how overwhelmed you're feeling, they still take you by surprise. James brings you into his arms, cradling you gently. You wipe at your face angrily with the back of your shirt sleeve, embarrassed.

"Do you want me to take you home?" James asks you but you pull back from him shaking your head.

You feel embarrassed at being coddled like that and you feel uncomfortable in James' arms.

You turn to see Joel and Tommy talking, Joel is looking irritatedly between you and James, frustrated at you for not listening to him last night about the tree. You've made he and Tommy's job here so much more work, no wonder he’s resentful.

"It was caught quickly, you'll barely have to dip into your discretionary spending," Tommy tries to assure you. "The stuff that's damaged was the stuff we were replacing anyway."

Not everything.

Your chin tremors, the hot tears sliding down your cheeks and again brushed away by the back of your wrist.

"Could've been way worse," Joel mutters more to himself than anything. "Don't have to cry about it."

The tone in the room immediately shifts at this last muttered comment. Tommy is straightening and shooting his brother a wild-eyed look. James is standing next to you, moving back when you shake his hand from your shoulder.

Your anger works through your body like lightning. The tears come faster now, but now they're full of spite and fury.

"I don't have to cry about it?" you seethe, marching up to Joel and holding up the ruined photographs. "These were my history, Miller. My only connection to the part of my childhood that wasn't fucking terrible!"

Joel is quietly staring at you, watching as you look at him with a look of mingled, anger and disdain.

"But hey I guess I could just walk around miserable like you," you spit furiously. "How's that working out for your social life?"

You realize it's a stupid thing to say when only days ago you saw a waitress slip him her number, yet Joel still acts insulted, his jaw clenching.

"Hey now," Tommy intercedes from across the room. You may be his girlfriend's best friend but Joel is his big brother.

Joel tilts slightly forward and looks like he's going to say something low and quiet and just for you to hear. His face inches closer, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheeks.

You stare at his mouth, waiting to see what he could possibly say after such an insensitive comment but then he's turned away and gone back to pulling back the debris by James' desk. You watch him go, wincing.

"We can take care of the rest of this," Tommy assures you with a smile that doesn't quite reach his dark eyes. "If you want, I mean."

You know he's trying so hard not to push your buttons. He's trying to give you everything Joel can't at the moment; kindness and civility. You relent because he's kind and because Maria loves him.

"Sure."

James is determined to drive you home and you're too worn down to say no. The flood, Joel's attitude, the weather; All three have conspired to leave you battered today.

James excuses himself to use the bathroom before you leave. You stand in the center of the waterlogged space and shake your head. All your hopes, your dreams, gone. Vanished. There won't be a dime left over for kennels now. And the photos you've carried with you from place to place? The good memories? Gone.

Joel and Tommy have started to move everything salvageable from from the main area of the office back to the storage room which thankfully was barely affected thanks to it being built a few steps up. Small miracles.

Tarps cover the furniture and the electronics have been stored in large tubs to take to the repair shop.

After coming out of the washroom with a spring in his step a few minutes later, James is much more pleasant than you are.

He circles you waist with his arm, calling out his thanks to Tommy before he leads you out the door away from the cold gaze of Joel Miller.

/////

"That asshole! I don't care if he's Tommy's brother I'm gonna kick his ass!"

Maria is pacing around your suite, her dark hair flicking behind her as you summarize what's happened that day at work and the cruelty of Joel's statement. James dropped you off hours ago trying to insist he stay but you were eager to be left alone with your thoughts.

Not even an hour had passed before you called Maria in tears.

She was to you in thirty, insisting that her work could wait. She hugged you when you showed her the photo frames, listened to what happened and jumped from the sofa the second Joel’s comment of ‘don’t have to cry about it’ was spoken aloud as if she’d been electrocuted.

“He’s not worth it,” you insist, your eyes on your interlaced fingers over your knee. “I just never want to see him again.”

“You won’t have to,” Maria insists. “I’ll tell Tommy to get one of the other guys to help him. You don’t need that grumpy bastard hanging around making you feel shitty.”

This is why you and Maria had been friends for so long, this instant call to action if the other is in pain. You would do the exact same for Maria (and have). Maria is already pulling out her cell phone and while you’d love the satisfaction of hearing Joel being removed from your project, you also can’t jeopardize things with Maria and Tommy. It’s going too good, the two of them too perfect for that.

“Just take a beat,” you tell her softly, motioning for her to come join you back on the sofa.

"I thought you two were getting along," Maria sighs disappointed. "I saw you two at the Bison and you were babysitting Sarah."

"I dunno," you shrug. "I guess he was really pissed off about the arborist thing."

"Still," Maria shakes her head disappointed. "I just expected better from him."

You suppose you had as well which is why this has you especially upset. You’d thought you and Joel were working towards a friendship or something. The way you got along so well at dinner? Had you been imagining it?

“Oh shit I forgot,” Maria says suddenly slapping her thigh and jumping up. “I brought you kolaches. Be right back.”

She makes her way through the door connecting your places, closing it behind her in habit. You hear her jogging up the stairs to her kitchen. You smile at her thoughtfulness, idly wondering if she got them from that European bakery near her office.

You pause when you hear something over the light rain outside. It sounds like scratching. A panic goes through you at the sound. What the fuck is that? Rats trying to hide from the storm? For a fleeting moment you wish you had a cat.

Or worse, what if it’s a burglar trying to break in? There were break ins a few blocks away, Bill had told you recently. You think of calling Maria back, but she won’t hear you with the door closed. You rise slowly from the sofa, your eyes going to the butcher knife in the kitchen. Given your culinary prowess it’s mostly there for decoration, but today you’re thankful for it.

You strain your ears, listening to the sound of shuffling. Your heartbeat is in your ears as you raise the knife with one hand and use the other to fling the door open. A tall figure is hunched over your welcome mat, but you recognize the curls right away.

"Joel? What the fuck?"

You glance down to see Joel straighten, his dark eyes widening in surprise as he sees you and the butcher knife. He shoves his arm behind his back, speaking in a voice laced with irritation.

"I didn't think you'd be home."

"That's not a reassuring reason to be skulking around my place," you insist with narrowed eyes. You lower the knife slowly to your side, taking him in. He won’t look you in the face and his hand is still behind his back.

You feel your mouth curving into a scowl at the sight of him. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, the neck drenched with sweat. You hate that he’s been working at your office all morning. You hate that he’s come into your life at all.

“Surprised I answered the door?” you snipe. “Gotta admit I’ve been so busy unnecessarily crying I don't know how I was able to see in front of me enough to walk."

“Thought you’d be with your boyfriend,” Joel mutters, his eyes still not meeting yours.

“Nope, just here,” you answer flatly. You hear crinkling coming from behind his back and you are about to question it when you hear another voice from behind you.

“Joel?”

Maria has come back from upstairs and is now looking at the both of you in confusion. She looks at you and the knife and then back at Joel.

You hear Joel mutter something that sounds an awful lot like "Christ on a bike" under his breath. You shoot a confused look at Maria before turning back to face an increasingly jittery Joel.

"I just wanted to-" Joel looks uncomfortable having an audience, but finally he brings his arm out from behind his back and thrusts a bouquet of cornflowers, fall asters and petunias at you. The cellophane crinkles against your arm as you hold the colorful arrangement in shock, your other hand still holding the knife loosely.

"Was wrong, what I said before," Joel tells your shoulder. "Was havin' a bad day and you didn't deserve it. Won't happen again. Sorry."

He doesn't even give you a chance to reply. He just turns, his broad-shouldered frame moving away from the house with the speed of a seasoned athlete. You watch him throw himself into his truck, speeding away before you finally step back into your home and close the door, the flowers still clutched to your chest.

“What the fuck was that?” you ask a very amused Maria. She goes to your cupboard to bring down a vase before giggling.

"That was the cutest thing I've ever seen."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #pedro pascal joel #pedro pascal characters #dad joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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zvaigzdelasas · 2 months

Text

[DW is German State Media]

Pro-Russian officials in the Moldovan region of Transnistria on Thursday called for help from Moscow "in the face of increased pressure."[...]

A special congress of the region is understood to have passed a resolution on the issue on Wednesday.

Officials are set to ask Russia's Federation Council and the State Duma "to implement measures to protect Transnistria in the face of increased pressure from Moldova," local media reported the resolution as saying.

Transnistria had been secretive about the reason for holding a special congress, only the seventh in its history and the first since 2006. That congress saw deputies announce a referendum on integrating with Russia, a vote that resulted in an overwhelming majority in favor.

However, it did say that officials would address the deepening row over customs duties with the government in Moldova's capital, Chisinau.[...]

The congress said the Moldovan government had unleashed an "economic war" on the region, blocking crucial imports and seeking to turn it into a "ghetto." Moldova introduced customs regulations this year that require companies in Transnistria to pay import duties into the Moldovan budget.

Anastasia Pociumban of the German Council on Foreign Relations told DW that Transnistria's demands were "moderate" and most likely related to the difficult economic situation in the region.[...]

Russia said that it viewed Transnistria and the protection of its residents as important.

"Protecting the interests of the residents of Transnistria, our compatriots, is one of our priorities," Russian state news agencies cited the Foreign Ministry as saying.

Meanwhile, Moldova's Deputy Prime Minister Oleg Serebrian posted that Moldova rejected "the propaganda statements coming from Tiraspol [Transnistria's nominal capital]."

Earlier, a Moldovan government spokesman said there was "no danger of escalation and destabilization of the situation in the Transnistrian region. This is another campaign to create hysteria."

Meanwhile, the Ukrainian Foreign Ministry warned against any Russian interference in Transnistria. It called "for a peaceful resolution of economic, social and humanitarian issues between Chisinau and Tiraspol without any destructive external interference."

For its part, the United States said it "firmly supports Moldova's sovereignty and territorial integrity within its internationally recognized borders."

Deputies of all levels from Moldova’s separatist Transnistria region during a congress on Thursday asked Russia for more support in its negotiations with Moldova, noting that 220,000 citizens in the region have Russian passports.

Despite rumours, the congress made no mention of the region’s possible recognition by Russia, or annexation. Moscow supports the breakaway region, but does not recognise it as a state.

A resolution by the congress leaked to the Moldovan media seeks “implementation of measures to intensify the negotiation process with Transnistria, taking into account [its 220,000 Russian citizens and] … the unique experience of Russia in the field of peacekeeping”.[...]

The congress made no mention of possible annexation of Transnistria by Russia, foillowing speculatioh raised by a politician from Transnistria, Ghenadie Ciorba. On February 20, he wrote a post on Facebook in which he said the issue would arise at the congress and also that Russian President Vladimir Putin would recognise Transnistria in his speech to the Russian nation on February 29.

Ukrainian intelligence services, senior NATO officials and Moldovan authorities have dismissed that scenario. Despite this, some Romanian TV channels made the possible annexation of Transnistria by Russia headline news.

28 Feb 24

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elliebarker · 1 year

Text

you are absolutely insane. + ( e. williams )

category: lifeguard!ellie x competitive swimmer!female!reader oneshot

summary: since your school’s swim season has been let out you convince yourself to get off your couch and go to your local rec-center to get some practice in. ellie has just moved into an off-campus apartment and needs to get a night job in order to keep up with her rent.

warnings: suggestive, implied smut, use of the word “baby”, mentions of alcohol usage, overall cringy

word count: 2.7k

author's note: as 68..1% of you requested,

“just…just give me a couple more weeks man.” ellie pinched the space in between her brows, very obviously annoyed.

“i’m not doing this again ellie,” a robotic voice came from the speaker of her phone, “i can’t keep covering for you. get a fucking job.”

“but– i’m in class all day! when the hell am i supposed to work?” ellie barked into her phone, dreading the noise complaints she’d get from her neighbors. maybe the size of her apartment was a glow-up from her dorm, but the people living around her sure weren’t.

“i- i don’t fucking know. drop a class or something? work at night?”

that conversation is how she landed here. clocking in at 6 at a rec center not too far from campus to sit and watch senior citizens go back and forth in a pool and hope they don’t drown so she doesn’t actually have to do her job. decked out in red and white ellie propped herself up onto the towering “LIFEGUARD” chair and watched each of the seconds pass on the big red digital clock displayed on the wall. little did she know today was the day she’d meet you.

you walked, well, rather you were being pulled into the pool by your friend olivia. you guys had been on your school’s swim team together and after mopping around your dorm for almost 2 weeks after your final meet she decided you, and a couple other girls from the team, would meet up at the pool a couple days after school and just, “have fun,” as she had called it. and you decided to go along with it, you could use the excuse to get out of the house once in a while without getting absolutely hammered. you served the area of the pool: a couple lanes taken up, a brunette lifeguard scooping out the newcomers (you and your friends), a bunch of lockers scattering the west wall, holy shit that lifeguard was hot.

you immediately turned your head back to take in the entirety of the brunette lifeguard, freckled and blush-dusted face with a set of emerald eyes. you noticed a crooked name tag that read “ellie'' before hearing your name being called by our team mates.

“coming!” you called to your friends and jogged over to grab your stuff before heading to lane 6 (the one closest to ellie) next to ashley and began your workout.

ellie was flabbergasted, astonished, she touched god. never in all her years of living had she been so…drawn…to a girl. okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but by the moon and the earth you were gorgeous. the way your hair fell on your shoulders, the way your smile shines in the echo-y pool’s fluorescent lights, the way your eyes lingered on her for the right amount of time. she was shamelessly gawking at you. i mean– she had too. it was her job!!! nevermind the lame-o senior citizens in lane 2 that were statistically more likely to drown…she just had to look at the way your arms cut through the water.

the hours lingered on, and to your surprise you had no idea what a couple weeks off would do to you. you were practically panting after each 100. and, obviously, olivia and ashley had finished before you.

“go home,” you said, “i’ve just got a cool down left.” your friends agreed and you turned around to face the flags again. a loud clash, the doors closing, made itself noted behind you before you began the last part of your set.

then, finally, after many flip turns and a few glances at the rec’s lifeguard you were done. you pulled your cap off and slipped out of the pool, gathering all your stuff and heading back. after you finished drying yourself off you looked back at the pool, all the lane lines stripped, holy fuck that was fast to see ellie rolling a cart of flippers back into the storage closet.

“haven’t seen you around here before,” she smiled. ellie was walking toward you as you finished stuffing your (still soaking) kick-board in your bag.

“my school season is out so i’m just practicing here, when my schedule allows me, before short course starts up again.” you explain, tucking your hair behind your ear. and then realizing how fucking dorky and cheesy it was and how you totally embarrassed yourself in front of your very hot lifeguard.

“cool, cool, cool, cool” you hear her answer, and you could swear you felt her eyes scanning you. you finished zipping up your bag, its ziiip echoing throughout the large and empty pool, having been deserted by all your teammates. wait. all your teammates? like- even your-ride-home-olivia was gone.

“shit.” you muttered.

“huh? oh, sorry!” ellie stuttered out, realizing how stupid and awkward and probably unprofessional her talking to you was. UGH! I’M SO STUPID she mentally slapped herself convincing herself that it was just her delusion that had pictured up any image of you actually acknowledging her existence.

“no–no, it's not,” you began, “i lost my ride– i– my ride left, i’m…stranded.”

“oh.”

“yeah,” you nervously chuckled

“i mean, this sounds weird, but,” she said, “i could drive you?”

“getting into a stranger's car late at night…” you questioned, like you were pondering it, “why not?”

“okay don’t put it like that,” she giggled.

“nah, man. that would actually be a lifesaver! and i’ve seen you around campus, you don’t give me any reason to suspect you’d axe murder me so…”

“alright,” she smirked, grabbing her keys from the knob of the storage closet door and heading out the door, with you not far behind.

you don’t know how it happened but what was going to a quick drop off at your place from your rec-center’s lifeguard turned into a dance party and the two of you screaming lyrics and hollering out of her window, having the time of your lives. earlier that night, when you first got in the car, ellie figured to blur any awkward silence she’d hand you the aux. turns out, you both had crazy similar music tastes and after that you guys clicked instantly. you were having so much fun and that's why when the bright familiar lights of home appeared in the rear-view mirror you kind of wished you lived somewhere else, farther away.

“thanks, again,” you looked at ellie.

“anytime,” she said, smiling at you. with regret that you didn’t say anything else you closed the car door and walked over to your front door and spent that whole night thinking over her.

unbeknownst to you, ellie would be thinking about you too, not only thinking about you but talking about you to the one person who would always lend an ear to all her girl problems: dina.

“she’s just so” “so what ellie? i need details.”

“pretty? beautiful? gorgeous? perfect?”

“did you at least get her number?”

“oh.”

“oh what ellie? oh my god you dumba–” her NUMBER! ellie thought of course! duh! i’m. so. stupid!!!

that was her next mission. get your number, your instagram, your anything, hold onto anything to be able to get to know you better. luckily for her, it wasn’t that hard, your visit to the rec-center had not been a one-time thing, in fact you and your teammates had begun a routine. and ellie drank up every glance she got at you. she had gone over and over different scenarios in which she’d ask for your number, “if you ever need a ride again,” “thought you could use this,” and after surveying that they were all equally cringy and accepting the fact she’d never have the same confidence as she did the day she met you she realized, she didn’t have to get your number, she could just give you hers. so, it was a nice surprise to see a little yellow slip, a post-it note, atop your bag adorned with her number and a little “ellie :)” as soon as you were home, showered, and ready for bed you opened your phone, sending a quick, “hey!” and introducing yourself before plugging in your phone and dozing off. ellie would deny it to anyone she knew but she totally responded immediately after you texted her and were, to say the least, disappointed when you didn’t text back after 10 minutes, half an hour, 2 hours. ellie decided to not let her stupid crush affect her and let sleep consume her. needless to say, when she woke up to see a “new message” notification she nearly leapt out of bed.

after the whole olivia-leaving-you-alone situation ellie had offered to drive you home from practice and who wouldn’t take her up on that offer? not to mention that driving home with her was fucking awesome. you got to play anything you wanted on aux and she would always get food with you. it was like meeting your soulmate, you guys had almost everything in common you could talk about whatever you wanted. she was the yin to your yang. whatever foods or things disgusted you, she loved, and she would be happy to take them off your hands. there was no awkward stage, you guys were practically meant for each other.

it had been barely a month yet every time you walked into your rec-center you were greeted with the yelling of your name and ellie sloppily climbing off her lifeguard chair to come up and hug you. you had met dina and jesse, ellie’s best friends, and ellie had met yours. it seems that nearly every waking moment of your day was spent in her company, not that you were complaining. you were sitting on ellie’s bed while she was scrolling on her phone on the floor, back propped up against her bed’s frame.

“hey,” she began, “dina’s inviting me to a party, wanna go?” she asked, turning her head to look at you.

“sure, why not?”

“sick,” she smiled and turned back to her phone, texting back dina, you assumed. a couple hours passed and you were in the bathroom, adjusting your outfit and making sure everything looked good. ellie stepped into the door frame, keys giggling on her fingers.

“ready to go?” she asked, smirking at you. you nodded and followed her out the front door.

noise was blaring and people clambered all around some kid’s dorm. to say the party was full of life was an understatement. you and ellie made your way over to the party’s make-shift bar and poured yourself a cup of your designated drinks. you didn’t have to do much looking to find dina, who was dancing in the middle of the living room. she immediately spotted you guys, deserting the group of girls she was hanging out with, and ran over to you.

“hey guys!” she greeted. lets just say whatever-the-fuck you were drinking worked, fast, because next thing you knew you were dancing, laughing, and joking about things you never would sober. so was ellie. so much so, you don’t know how much time had passed, but you were having the time of your life on the dance floor with some random feel-good song in the background. and ellie pressed up against your back. and you sure as hell weren’t complaining.

you turned around and wrapped your arms around her neck and continued to dance (grind) into her lap. and somewhere though your drunken haze her arms were on your arms, hips, totally feeling you up. and then her lips were alternating between yours and your neck. you both stumbled from the middle of the dance floor, lips still connected, to some wall off to the side. from then on, ellie got more adventurous, for lack of a better word. hands moving every ten seconds. they were cupping your face, then your tits, hips, ass, and then your face again. you couldn’t say you weren’t, either, hands went from delicately perched on her shoulders to the back of her head to desperately grasping for handfuls of her hair. the two of you barely came up for air until–

“let’s move this,” she practically panted, “somewhere else,” pulling you in the nearest unoccupied room. and as suddenly as her hands and lips had left you, they were back on you again. she began wondering again, this time however, her hand pulled at your waistband, waiting for you to nod or acknowledge what she was trying to do. it was you who parted your guys’ lips this time.

“you.” you began, making sure to catch your breath, “are absolutely,” you continued, “insane,” you finally huffed out, before smashing your lips back together and pulling your own hands at your waistband.

(fade to black bc i can’t write smuttttttt)

ellie woke up, groaning, with an awful headache. then, when she finally regained consciousness, she surveyed the room she was in. definitely not hers. her clothes, party clothes, were scattered on the floor and the only thing that remained was her black sports bra. she didn’t even realize there was another living human being next to her until she felt the cool breeze of your peaceful sleepy breath. you were lying next to her, presumably naked under the covers. your hair was messy and knotted and taking up all of the pillow and your makeup had worn off. and you were utterly gorgeous. ellie couldn’t help but smile. bask in the moment. the little time she had left to admire before she realized you were literally sitting next to her, unconscious and topless.

“fuck.” that's all she said. that's all she could say. she was so ready to run, let her flight kick in. and she would’ve, had you not wrapped your arms around her and pulled her back down. you, unconsciously (totally), rested your head in between her shoulder and neck and sighed. yeah ellie thought i could get used to this.

shoes squeaked and whistles blew. eveything was hectic. you were just trying to get into meet-mentality when a familiar, comforting, voice came from behind you.

“hey baby,” ellie, your girlfriend of 2 months, came up and hugged you. “came to wish you good luck,” she smiled as you turned to face her, catching a glimpse of dina and jesse waving from the corner of your eye.

“aww,” you leaned up to kiss her, “that's so sweet! thank you ellie. and i love you, but, i have to go warm up i’ll be right back.” you said.

“yeah, yeah, babe, don’t let me hold you back.” ellie chuckled and went back to find her seat next to jesse and dina. a couple hours had passed and your first event was coming up shortly. you stretched and made your way over to the blocks. and as soon as the microphone sounded, you were off, you were trying your absolute hardest. and it definitely paid off. when you looked up at the scoreboard next to your lane you checked your time. and you shaved 8 whole seconds. you could barely contain your excitement. once you were out of the water you ran to hug ellie, not caring if you got her wet. (in more ways than one iykwim lol) (im sorry) (that was uncalled for)

“i’m so sorry baby,” ellie said.

“huh?”

“your 200? you added like, a minute.”

“what?” you were so utterly confused, “oh my god! no,” you laughed in realization, “ellie, that was my 100. it's long course season. i didn’t add anything, i literally went 8 seconds faster!”

“ohh!” ellie said, nodding, pretending she understood anything you just said but congratulated you anyway.

and for being a lifeguard, your girlfriend was a shit swimmer.

“how the fuck did you even get this job.”

“shut up.” ellie was only halfway in, red “LIFEGUARD” swimsuit and trunks on, and she was already turning a ghostly white. “i can… function… in the water perfectly fine.” she said, trying not to chatter her teeth. you reached for her hand to pull her into you.

“your hands are literally purple.”

“well maybe your just super-human and can’t feel how f-fucking cold it is.” that night after you guys drove home ellie was cuddled up by the fireplace, a little cold already forming. you had just exited your after-practice hot shower and were nice and cozy, there was just one thing– person– you were missing. you laid down facing ellie and snuggled up to her. it was the mundane nights like this that were the ones worth living for.

#lifeguard ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie fic #ellie x fem reader #tlou fanfiction #ellie fluff #ellie oneshot #elliebarker #you are absolutely insane

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 8 months

Text

Vivek Ramaswamy wants to end birthright citizenship—a longstanding American policy codified in the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution—and take away young people’s right to vote, all in one fell swoop.

The presidential candidate made the call Thursday night on CNN, after being asked about his opponents, Ron DeSantis and Donald Trump, vowing to end birthright citizenship. “For a period of time, I think it’s going to be necessary,” Ramaswamy said.

But the young gun was not satisfied just being in agreement with the leading duo in the Republican race-to-the-repressive-bottom.

“I’ll actually go one step further on this, Abby, is that I don’t think someone just because they’re born in this country, even if they’re a sixth generation American should automatically enjoy all the privileges of citizenship until they’ve actually earned it,” Ramaswamy told CNN’s Abby Phillip. “So one of the things I’ve said is that every high school student who graduates from high school should have to pass the same civics test that every immigrant has to pass in order to become a citizen of this country.”

Surveys in the past have shown that most people would likely fail a basic multiple choice citizenship test; one survey found just 36% of respondents actually passing such a test. And given Republicans’ all-out assault on public school education, it’s unclear what their plan would be to up those numbers.

After publishing, Ramaswamy senior adviser Tricia McLaughlin said the proposal refers “to civic duty voting via constitutional amendment.”

According to Ramaswamy’s website, this would mean raising the voting age to 25, while still generously “allowing all Americans to vote at age 18” only if they serve at least six months in the military or as a first responder, or pass the citizenship test.

Yet another successful pair of Republican talking points: seizing the right to vote from young people, and forcing people to join a military that has used trillions of American dollars to wreak carnage across the world, and leave its foot soldiers out to dry upon their return.

Anyhow, Ramaswamy’s brilliant proposal to seemingly strip citizenship from so many Americans came after Phillip noted that both of Ramaswamy’s parents are immigrants, and so birthright citizenship “was in play” for him when he became a citizen.

Yet, instead of making the citizenship process easier to navigate, Ramaswamy instead wants to make it harder for anyone to be a citizen. More than that, the presidential candidate’s formulation lays out tiers of citizenship—a matrix in which, until one passes this test, they would be a second-class citizen. While this country already treats scores of people—immigrants, LGBTQ people, laborers, the homeless, and young people—as such, Ramaswamy thinks that unfair treatment should be legally bound.

#us politics #news #the new republic #republicans #conservatives #2023 #2024 presidential race #2024 presidential election #2024 elections #vivek ramaswamy #right to vote #voting age #raising the voting age #Citizenship #Birthright Citizenship #civics test #Citizenship test #tiers of citizenship #second class citizens

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pixievi · 2 years

Text

characters | vi, caitlyn, ellie williams, kassandra of sparta, eivor varinsdottir

fandoms | arcane, the last of us ii, assassins creed valhalla & odyssey

warnings | none, you can show this to your nan (except there is a smidge of suggestiveness in kassandra’s but it’s still senior citizens safe)

In denial

The way she sees it, it’s just another person she cares about that could get hurt or worse

Which she doesn’t want to go through again

So she keeps it locked away, opting to just be there for you whenever you need her

Despite this mental agreement she has with herself, she still finds moments where all she can think about is you. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your soft gaze..

She is constantly around you, following you like a lost puppy. Not that you mind, Vi on the other hand realises she does it embarrassingly often and the part of her that’s in denial low-key hopes her constant presence annoys you, so you’ll avoid her

So she can get rid of that constant ache in her chest whenever she looks at you

It was like that for months, Vi trying to shove down those feelings while simultaneously being comforted by the daydreams of you and her while you both got closer

Her plans to keep it to herself became more painful as time went on because thoughts of you being with someone else or just losing you in general, plagued her

After a particularly bad nightmare that had elements of those worries, she found herself in your bed wrapped in your arms. You didn’t ask when she came through your window, just understood that she needed comfort. Which is another thing she loved about you

That arrangement wasn’t new, her sharing your bed. Especially after bad dreams. So you thought nothing of it and tried your best to make her feel better in whatever way she needed

Her head was buried in your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm knocking on her little ‘in denial’ door. She realised she couldn’t take it anymore, so fuck it

She mumbled her confession into your skin, her words freezing the hand that traced patterns on her back. Everything made sense

You kissed her forehead and she relaxed, somehow melting even more into you

caitlyn

Hopeless romantic

Met you at your job in a local cafe, which has become her most frequented spot as of late. For no apparent reason

Since that day, she has anonymously sent numerous bouquets of flowers to your workplace, addressed to you which were all accompanied by sweet little notes

While she had a raging crush, she was still shy and wasn’t sure

She would always make sure to chat with you, delighting in the smiles and laughs you gave her

She looked forward to her lunch breaks, because she got to spend them with you. And on those days where your breaks matched with each other, she’d spend that time with you while trying to contain her giddiness

You know that investigation journal she has? Don’t tell me she doesn’t have a personal one where she blushes about her crush on you

After fiercely debating with herself, she mustered the confidence to ask you out on a date. When you said yes, her eyes lit up and she had to stop herself from jumping up in excitement. Instead covering it with a warm smile and pressing a soft kiss to your hand like the gentlewoman she is

She treated you like a princess on the date

But, one thing she was doing was keeping the conversation on you. Especially when it came to topics you were interested in. She did that on purpose, as she thought she would bore you if she started talking about the things she likes to study herself and her interests

However, that was quickly shutdown when you caught on to it and informed her that in fact, you were very interested in her various knowledge. Finding it endearing how she’d talk with her hands when she got passionate about a topic or just something she was interested in

It warmed her to the core. As if she couldn’t adore you any more

The night couldn’t have gone any better

ellie

Very shy

Sketches you all the time in her journal

I feel like she’s much more of ‘I show my interest/love for you in my actions’ type person, at least in this case

A common thing she’s found herself saying to you since her feelings developed is ‘I saw this and thought you might like it’

Another one would be ‘wanna watch a movie?’

She finds herself more quiet around you, settling for soft smiles rather than words. Something Jesse has definitely noticed and definitely teases her endlessly about

Has to look away from your gaze because if she locks eyes with you for more than 5 seconds she’ll start flushing and stumbling over her words

Fiddles with her sleeves or the hem of jumper/top whenever she speaks to you

Once she gets more comfortable in realising that you do like her, as a friend at least, she’ll start getting more bold

Teasing you, annoying the shit out of you..just plain messing with you.

But also hugs you tight, rests her head in your lap, letting you borrow her books and clothes etc

Speaking of you borrowing her clothes, the first time she saw you wear one of jumpers was the day she thought she was gonna combust

It was another night of hanging out at her place, playing video games while Ellie tried her absolute best to not blush while you rested your head on her shoulder

You noticed she was stiff and asked her if she was alright, to which she adamantly assured you she was fine

So you snuggled into her more, head now resting on her chest

There was no way you didn’t feel her heart hammering against your ear. Butterflies did the same in her stomach

You suspected the exact reason why, and dropped the bomb on her

“Jesse told me y’know, about your crush on me”

Her previous blush drained from her face as she froze

You sat up and kissed her cheek, and waited for her brain to start working again

When it did, she cupped your chin gently and slowly brought your lips to hers. Giving you time to pull away

But you didn’t

kassandra

Immediately starts flirting with you

At any given moment - oh, you’re cooking? She asks what else those fingers can do, oh she’s bleeding out and almost dying? Declares how pretty you look under the moonlight

Aside from her flirting and teasing, she believes you’re a literal goddess and cannot stop the golden light that erupts within her every time you look at her

Always keeps an eye on you, even when she’s not there. Whether it be through close contacts of hers or through Ikaros. She’d be heartbroken if something happened to you, especially if it’s someone wanting to get back at her

Another huge romantic, does everything she can to make you smile and feel special

Wants to be around you all the time, no matter what you’re doing. Whether it be a quick trip to a market or you’re just tending plants at home, you’ll be guaranteed to have a tall misthios shadow beside you

Needs to touch you or she’ll die

If you allow her, she’ll have you in her arms whenever - in hugs, around your waist, on your shoulders or simply just holding your hand. She’s addicted

Plays with your hair a lot, doesn’t even realise she’s doing it half the time

Finds herself smiling just at the mere thought of you

After a awhile of all this, she confesses (if you hadn’t figured it out already, she was being as cloudy as glass)

It was a scorching day when she brought you on her ship. Sea spray tickled your cheeks as you gazed at the ever rocking horizon. Kassandra kept a tight hold of your waist as you leaned over the side to watch the waves cascade against the gliding ship.

She was excited, to put it lightly. To have you on her ship, enjoying yourself as much as you seemed to be

Her chin was rested on your scalp, before her lips brushed the shell of your ear

She whispered everything - the way you made her feel, how beautiful you were, how much she desired you…

Her heart soared when you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss her

eivor

Keeps it a secret for the longest time. Like I’m talking, over a year

She felt comfortable around you, found herself to feel lighter in your presence

She realised just how far deep in she was when she got jealous of Sigurd just talking with you - a ridiculous thought, but a thought that confirmed her passion

The poetry that wrote itself in her mind from your gaze was another tell tale

Now when she’s on raids, she always has to bring something back for you and pass it off as something like - ‘you mentioned you needed something to match your hair’ or ‘thought this might be of use to you’

Is very careful to not be drunk around you after numerous times she flirted with you in that state of mind (foreshadowing) To which she hoped you passed it off as her being a drunken fool

She still apologised each time though

Another gentlewoman - pulls chairs out for you, lends you her cloak, opens doors for you etc

Treats you more like a queen than anything else - you need something done? She’s the first to offer, some fools disrespect you? She tears them down in your name

Speaking of that, she’s very protective. Keeping close to you just at the slightest whiff of danger

She trains you, wanting to provide a way to protect you even when she’s not around

Brings you food all the time

Much like Vi, she finds herself in your bed after a bad dream or vision

Talking to you about it really helps her, she doesn’t feel judged

She feels equal, safe enough to be vulnerable with you

It was a night much like that, except for the bad dreams. No, she was just too drunk to make it back to her own place

She can be a very sensitive drunk, emotions always right there on the surface

So as soon as her head lays down on your stomach, she’s off describing her adoration for you, how warm you make her feel, how she wishes for a future with you…

You didn’t get to hear more because she drifted off to sleep, but you’d heard enough

In the morning, she tried to sneak out without waking you. Embarrassed beyond belief

But your hand gripping her wrist stopped her and you tugged her back

She hesitated but gave in to your embrace, waiting

You kissed her temple with a smile and giggled

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xjoonchildx · 2 years

Text

adonis | pjm x reader

🚨 summary: your crackpot of a neighbor will not rest until you throw yourself at the gorgeous paramedic in town. she's nuts, y'all.

🚨 pairing: reader x paramedic!jimin

🚨 genre: meddling neighbors? horny little old ladies with bad-slash-good intentions? awkward OCs who can't find the words to speak in the presence of greatness?

🚨 warnings: one very mouthy senior citizen, sweet/shy jimin, an OC who can't find a clean shirt throughout the entire fic, one very spoiled pomeranian, smoking, sexual innuendo, literally one line of implied smut

🚨 word count: 3.4K (lmao)

🚨 notes: this is my drabble *snort* for the possum anniversary and i am celebrating the wonderful @starlostjimin who is such a cool, funny, amazing, talented person. did you know that 911 is 911 in america AND canada? anyhoo. i hope you like my very first jimin fic ever, and i hope it delivers on the things that you wanted 💕

thank you always to @hobi-gif for being the most amazing beta and person in general.

If you had to wager a guess, you’d say it was Mrs. Choi from the fourth floor who’d dialed 911. That miserable old bat has always struck you as kind of a snitch.

At any rate, that’s how you find yourself standing outside your condo at ten o’clock at night, wearing nothing but a faded bathrobe and a pair of worn-out house slippers. Lights mounted on top of the fire truck idling at your building’s entrance turn the courtyard into a tragic makeshift disco, everything and everyone splashed in flashes of red and white.

You mill around on the damp grass with the rest of your neighbors, each of you turned into temporary exiles in mismatched sleepwear.

Mr. Nam from the sixth floor is yelling into his phone as he paces, giving someone an earful about the disruption. Mrs. Song from the seventh floor was smart enough to grab a lawn chair and she watches the scene unfold like it’s one of her beloved dramas. Mr. Baek from the first floor doesn’t pay any mind to the fuss around him, engrossed in a book good enough to drown out the grumbling and sirens.

But you don’t spot the woman who lives in the unit next to yours – not right away – because it takes her an absurdly long time to heed this whole evacuation business.

When Mrs. Yun finally breezes through the condo’s glass doors, she does so with all the subtlety of a pageant queen. She makes a beeline for you, decked out in a Hawaiian-print muumuu loud enough to wake the dead – accessorized by a full face of makeup, a full set of curlers, and her trusty Pomeranian tucked under one arm.

“What is all this fuss about?” she pouts, giving Chichi an affectionate scratch. You lean over to give the dog your own scratch and she licks your fingers as thanks.

“Hell if I know,” you shrug. “I came outside when I heard the sirens. Which, by the way, was about ten minutes ago.”

“I was busy,” Mrs. Yun sniffs, affronted by your reprimand. She sets Chichi down to pat her curlers and make sure each is still in place. “I have a friend coming over tonight.”

“A friend.”

“Yes honey, a friend,” she echoes, tone haughty. “You should try it some time.”

God, you really should. The only man in your life these days is the Doordash driver and the last time he’d come by, he’d made a clumsy joke about your sodium intake. You’d been embarrassed, sure, but somehow that pales in comparison to this reminder that you’re being outsexed by the little old lady next door.

“You should ask someone when they plan to let us back in,” Mrs. Yun says, tapping her foot impatiently. “You should ask – ” she pauses to look out over the crowd, eyes lighting as she points one fresh gel nail in the direction of the fire truck, “ – him.”

You follow the trajectory of that thin finger with your gaze until your eyes land on Mrs. Yun’s intended target. And then you blink as you take in what is surely the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Dark eyes and sandy blonde hair and a jawline so sharp, it could have been cut from granite.

Holy shit.

“I’ll say,” Mrs. Yun grins, and your face burns with embarrassment when you realize you’ve spoken out loud. It flames even hotter when she raises an arm to wave him over.

“Sir? Sir!”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” You panic, whispering in the most threatening tone you can muster. “Put your hand down. Don’t – ”

But it’s too late. Mrs. Yun has already caught the attention of this Earth-bound Adonis. He makes his way towards you both without delay, wearing an easy smile so devastating it makes sweat bead at your temples.

“Hi there,” he greets kindly. “How can I help you?”

“Thank you, Mr. – ” Mrs. Yun pauses to squint at the name embroidered on the man’s dark navy uniform, “ – Park. What’s all this uproar about tonight, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he chuckles, and you find yourself mesmerized by the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Someone called 911 because they smelled smoke, so we had to come check it out.” A radio secured to his shoulder crackles with an incoming transmission and he pauses to listen before he speaks again. “Pretty sure they’re almost done checking the building. Old places like this, we’ve always got to put in a bit more attention where the wiring is concerned. Wouldn’t want to leave you ladies in a dangerous situation.”

“Oh, of course not,” Mrs. Yun purrs, making no effort to hide the cheeky once-over she gives him. “We certainly appreciate you being thorough.”

The Adonis – Mr. Park – flushes, clearing his throat as the tips of his ears turn pink. You make a mental note to sit Mrs.Yun down later to explain that a few things have changed since her heyday.

The radio crackles again, a garbled voice coming over the line.

“Sounds like they’re almost done,” he explains, looking down at his feet to find Chichi sniffing at his boot. He crouches down to pet her and she curls into the curve of his hand, eager for his touch.

Somehow you’re willing to bet this man has that kind of effect on everything in his path – men, women, and houseplants alike.

He gives Chichi a few firm scratches before getting back to his feet. The rigid fabric of his uniform pants strains against the lean muscles of his thighs as he moves and Mrs. Yun’s eyes practically bug out of her face. You’d jam an elbow in her side if you thought there was a chance you could pull it off without being caught.

“I’d better get back,” he says, turning to you with one of those debilitating smiles. Your toes curl inside the shabby velvet of your slippers. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

“Oh, we won’t!” Mrs. Yun calls out, appreciating his retreating form with a lifted brow. You wait until the man is well out of earshot before turning on her.

“What the hell was that?” you demand.

“That – ” she says with her nose in the air, “ – is why you never leave the house without your face on.”

“You were practically undressing that man with your eyes,” you accuse hotly. “You do know what sexual harrassment is, don’t you?”

Mrs. Yun huffs as she bends down to scoop up Chichi. “I wasn’t harassing the man, I was appreciating him. Fine art is meant to be admired.”

“Oh, please,” you grumble. “And don’t think I missed that little detail about the smoke.”

She narrows her eyes at you.

“Mind your business.”

🚨🚨🚨🚨

One week later, a knock at the door nearly startles you right off the couch. You frown into your half-eaten carton of ramen and set it down on the coffee table, taking a moment to seriously contemplate pretending not to be home.

But then there’s more knocking – more insistent this time.

You pad across the floor, crack the door open and the ramen in your stomach threatens to come right back up.

“Hi again.”

You blink.

“Sorry to bother you, it’s just that your neighbor suffered a fall and she said you would have a key to get into her place.”

The Adonis – Mr. Park – looks a little sheepish as he stands in the doorway, waiting for you to speak like a normal human being with a passable set of social skills. He shoves one hand through his sandy blonde hair and the locks seem to fall back in slow-motion.

“I – y-yes of course,” you stutter, so flustered that you nearly trip over your own feet in your haste to scramble for the kitchen. You dig Mrs. Yun’s spare key out of the silverware drawer and rush back to drop it into his waiting palm.

“I hope she’s okay,” you worry, biting at the inside of your cheek. “I’m right here if you guys need anything else.”

“We’ll take good care of her,” another voice promises, and you crane your neck to peer past the stunning Mr. Park to search for the source of it. A second man stands out in the hallway, a heavy duffel bag slung over one muscular arm covered in a myriad of tattoos. His face is boyish and beautiful and soft, a stark contrast to his powerful body.

Jesus. Who’s doing the recruiting in this city?

“We’ll have this back to you right away,” Mr. Park promises, and your neck heats when he rewards you with one of his sweet smiles.

The second they leave, you make a beeline for the bathroom – and cringe as you stand in the mirror and peel one half-dried ramen noodle off the front of your shirt.

🚨🚨🚨 🚨

15 minutes later, Mr. Park’s picture-perfect partner is knocking at your door.

“Hey there.”

You might have run a brush through your hair and dabbed on a bit of tinted chapstick in the last five minutes, but he notices that – or the absence of one half-dried ramen noodle, he makes no indication.

“Hi again,” you say. “Is she okay?”

“Oh, for sure. Maybe a little banged up, but otherwise she’s alright. She’s asking for you though, if you can walk over with me.”

“Yes, of course.” You shuffle into the hall and let him lead the way, through the open front door to Mrs. Yun’s unit and the narrow foyer that opens up into her living room. She’s upright on the couch, holding an ice pack to her head. The glorious Mr. Park is bent down on one knee at her side.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says, looking as pleased as a queen holding court, “I’m grateful every day for the very dedicated public servants in this city. That was terrifying.”

“But you’re okay, right?” you ask.

“Nothing broken, so far as we can tell,” the Adonis says. “She’s probably going to be good and sore tomorrow, but for now she’s doing just fine.”

“Thanks to Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon here,” Mrs.Yun says sweetly. A little too sweetly, in fact. The wheels in your brain start to turn and you eyeball her from across the room. She peeks at you from behind the ice pack and dons an angelic smile.

“Yes, they are certainly appreciated,” you say slowly, the skepticism in your voice vibrating at a frequency only Mrs. Yun can hear. She beams at Mr. Park as he gets to his feet and starts to pack up his things.

Mr. – Jeon, was it? – slings his heavy duffel bag over his shoulder. “Be sure and take those anti-inflammatories tonight, okay? You’ll be all locked up in the morning if you don’t.”

Mrs. Yun practically preens at the personal attention she’s gotten from these two insanely good-looking men. “I will.”

“You’re lucky to have a good neighbor,” the Adonis says to Mrs. Yun, turning to you with a genuine smile. Your heart thuds in response. “If it’s alright with you, keep an eye on her tonight? She might need your help.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, alright,” you say with a tight smile, and Mrs. Yun clears her throat.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

“Promise me – right now – that you really fell.”

“What did I tell you about leaving the house with your face on?”

“Answer the question,” you fire back and Mrs. Yun sighs, tossing the ice pack down on the couch.

“Yes, honey, I did fall. I fell in love with that scrumptious Mr. Park the second I saw him. And if I were a woman thirty – ”

You raise an eyebrow.

“ – Okay, fifty years younger than I am, I would be taking him for a spin myself. But since I’m not, I’ve decided that you should have him. Did I bend the truth a little? Yes. But for a good cause. I’m a very thoughtful person, you know.”

“You are outrageous,” you hiss, pacing as Mrs.Yun pretends to look for dirt under her fingernails. “This is a waste of public resources! They’re supposed to be responding to emergencies. Real emergencies.”

“First of all – ” Mrs. Yun is defiant, chin in the air, “ – Nothing ever happens in this town. Nothing. And second, there’s dust in your panties, sweetheart. If that’s not an emergency, I don’t know what is.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and Mrs. Yun ignores it, climbing off the couch with ease to cross the room and crack open a window. She pulls a box out of the tiny accent table perched beneath it and proceeds to light an absurdly long cigarette.

“You’re too damned young to be shut away in your house all the time,” she argues, pursing her lacquered lips to blow a stream of smoke out the window. “Work. Couch. Work. Couch. How can you stand it? Let me tell you what I’d be doing right now if I could turn back the clock and have your youth again: Mr. Park. I’d be doing Mr. Park. You should be doing Mr. Park.”

You stifle a disbelieving laugh. The novelty of your neighbor’s loose lips and bad habits wore off a long time ago, but sometimes she still manages to catch you off guard.

“Well, I’ve got an early morning so unless you have any more unsolicited sex advice to share, I’m going to have to call it a night.”

Mrs. Yun blows another long stream of smoke out the window.

“Nope. I’ve got it all off my chest.”

“Good then,” you say, turning on your heels. You make it all the way to the door before you pause and call out to her.

“And put that thing out!”

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Three days later, you find yourself struggling with an overloaded paper bag from the grocery store. Yes, you’ve purchased the reusable ones and yes, they’re a hell of a lot stronger – but you never miss an opportunity to leave them hanging in the closet on your way out the door.

Something in the bag is wet – well, moist at the very least. And it’s enough to have you gripping the bottom tight with both hands as you try to maneuver your way through the revolving door at the entrance to your condo. It’s an awkward fit inside the narrow sliver of space and as you’re shuffling forward, the door’s momentum dies. You push at it with one foot and lose an onion from the bag, nearly losing your balance in the process.

You blow out a heavy breath and go to push the door again, only this time it smoothly glides away before you even make contact. The misstep makes you jerk forward, but at least the door keeps moving long enough for you to step out of it.

“Think you lost something back there.”

Most of your hair has slipped out of your ponytail holder by now, the strands matted to your forehead with the sweat you worked up on the walk from the car. But when you turn, you can still make out the glorious Mr. Park quite clearly. He drops the onion back into your bag and smiles at you.

“Please, allow me.”

He lifts the bag out of your arms, carefully securing the bottom like you’d done just moments before. With your hands now free, you push your hair out of your face and silently pray that you don’t look as unfortunate as you suspect you do.

“You don’t have to do that,” you demur. “But I appreciate it anyway. Mr. Park, right?”

“Well, I’d much prefer you call me Jimin,” he laughs, the sound of it making heat bloom inside your chest. “But yeah, it’s me again.”

He’s not wearing his uniform, you realize. And though some small part of you mourns the loss of those fitted shirts and pants, his off-duty look – an oversized sweater, jeans and pair of sharp boots – sure as hell doesn’t disappoint.

“Do you… live here?” you ask stupidly, as though a man this handsome could live anywhere on this entire street without someone taking notice. “Or – ”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I came by to check on your neighbor. You know, after the fall and all. I told her she could call me if she ever needed anything and she asked me to stop by.”

“You gave – ” you pause, shock forcing your voice at least an octave higher, “ – You gave Mrs. Yun your phone number?”

His cheeks pink at the observation. “She’s in her 70s, you know? Lives alone. I really don’t mind.”

You truly have no idea how your chain-smoking, jazzercising, oversexed hellion of a next-door neighbor has managed to convince this man she’s a frail old woman in need of a hero.

Will wonders never cease?

“Besides,” he says, “She’s kind of...quirky, you know?”

“That’s a very strange way to say unhinged,” you counter.

He laughs.

“You’re funny. Come on, I’ll walk you up.”

yun: DID YOU HAVE YOUR FACE ON [ 9:15 PM ]

yun: he told me he helped you with your groceries [ 9:15 PM ]

yun: now tell him to help you out of your clothes [ 9:16 PM ]

you: go to bed [ 9:16 PM ]

Two days later, legs like noodles from spin class, you limp through your front door and sag onto the couch. You might have napped for a second, you’re not entirely sure – but after a knock sounds at your door, you are most definitely alert. Your thighs protest as you force yourself off the couch to answer it.

You crack the door open and it’s him. Adonis. Mr. Park. Jimin.

And you’re wearing a gray workout shirt with what you are certain is one very sizeable sweat stain down the front. Good God, will there ever be a time when you see this man and don’t look like a complete wreck?

“Oh my gosh, did she call you again?” you ask, incredulous. “You are so sweet to do this for her, really but this is too – ”

“ – She didn’t call,” he interrupts, looking just the tiniest bit bashful.

“Oh.”

“Listen, this is kind of embarrassing and maybe not entirely appropriate given I know where you live, but it’s just that I don’t have your number.”

Your eyes widen and your already distressed legs start to feel a bit more weak. Jimin scrubs a hand down his jaw before he speaks again.

“I was actually wondering if you might let me take you to dinner sometime.”

You blink.

“Or I could cook you dinner. I make this really great prawn dish? But again, I’m not trying to be a creep or anything and it’s okay if you’re not comfortable with that – ” he’s backpedaling now, his words coming out in a rush.

“– You are not a creep,” you insist, when you’ve finally come to your senses and figure out how to access your words and use them to form sentences. “I just – I was just not expecting that. But yes, I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

Your knees threaten to buckle at the slow smile that comes over him.

“That’s great.”

🚨🚨🚨🚨

You fling the silverware drawer open and practically rip Mrs. Yun’s key out of it in your mad dash to her apartment. No, you do not feel guilty for letting yourself into her house, the woman has absolutely no boundaries and could use a taste of her own medicine.

You slam the door behind you when you walk in, and Mrs. Yun squints at you from her perch in the window. She blows out a perfect ring of smoke and then raises a brow.

“Got a bee in your bonnet?”

“Give me one of those,” you demand. “Right now.”

🚨🚨🚨🚨

There’s a knock at your door – again – only this time, you already know who’s on the other side. It’s your beloved Doordash driver, bringing an order of your beloved shio ramen. Two, actually.

You open the door to grab your food and Jimin calls out from the couch.

“Need some help with that?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you say over your shoulder.

When you turn back to thank the Doordash guy, he’s staring into your living room, eyes wide and trained on Jimin. You clear your throat and he snaps his focus back to you.

“Have a good night,” he says pleasantly.

And then he gives you a thumbs up.

yun: can the two of you keep it DOWN [ 11:22 PM ]

yun: some of us need our beauty sleep [ 11:22 PM ]

#jimin fic #jimin x reader #park jimin #possumversary

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bulkhummus · 7 months

Note

AAAAAA NEW NIGHT VALE EPISODE REALLY ATE WHEN THEY BROUGHT OUT WHAT IS CLEARLY THE DISTANT PRINCE AND JUST TO REVEAL HES (at least inhabiting the body of) A KID LIKE IM SORRY BUT HES JUST A LITTLE GUY!! HE CAN DO NO WRONG (hes prob here to start the apocalypse of the year but maybe they can fix him with therapy)

I need to hear your thoughts on this episode cuz it got me so so excited

Personally, I think it’d be fun if the child the personification of the Smiling God, Cal (which some people read Cal as being the Distant Prince so add that in or keep it separate from this post if you’d like) or Donovan (Charles and Kevin’s kid). But this was such an interesting take I did some reading and drew up some comparisons.

When we first meet The Boy, he is young and constantly moving around and pretending to be an airplane. Later, when Cecil is talking to him, much of what he is saying about existing and being who he is, he is experiencing for the very first time. Sort of like a god experiencing being human for the first time. (I did think about how, if it is some random kid, and he did come from the DOW from a portal Carlos and his team opened, he wouldn’t have slept or ate, or possibly spoken to other people before too, but could have remained in perfect health but that’s a side bar.)

His descriptors he gave to the therapist reminded me what Huntokar described as the mudwomb, where she and the other gods came from. (This also, feels similar to cecil being born from a tree, and my theory about cecil forgetting he is a god/angel.)

The words “to do harm” are interesting to take note of. As are the words “‘No’ said the boy, in a new voice, full of broken glass and thunder clouds. “I will not talk about her.”’

Because when we think about the Distant Prince, he is always threatening to do or actively doing harm. He and his court are also mistaken for thunderclouds and rain. (From If He Had Lived episode 92) . Lastly, I want to think about Tamika being the one to take him in, because that is the most compelling thing regarding your theory out of everything.

I will be referencing the live show The Haunting of Nightvale. Tamika, during it, expresses exhaustion for having to clean up the town and deal with its problems her entire life. She solved problems with violence. She liked the violence. Violence was the answer for a lot of problems, and only recently did she decide that it was no longer as such.

Thinking about a child having the role of committing acts of violence to protect herself and others. And now, the Distant Prince appears, a harbinger of death and human pain and suffering, as an innocent child looking to forget. To start fresh. Tamika would want to take him in so that they could maybe learn something from each other. But also, the reverse of this, maybe Tamika’s past of violence could be a spark to further pain and suffering at the hands of the Distant Prince without her realizing. Maybe he could inspire her to become violent again, if its something she wants of her own accord this time.

All of this also makes me think about gods appearing in night vale as people due to different circumstances. The Glow Cloud (junior) is a respected citizen. Huntokar is living in the body of Susan Willman. Night Vale is in more chaos than it has ever been. The glow Cloud (senior) is dead, people have all but forgotten Huntokar, and time is moving forward once more. Not to mention that it’s still recovering from Janet and her team. An apocalypse to restart the town, as it happened so many times before in Night Vale, makes sense! Everything is coming to a head. Huntokar and possibly The Distant Prince appearing as people feels….. interesting.

Anyways this was fun to cobble together and would love to hear your thoughts on it!! this was a really fun take! :o)

#wtnv #welcome to night vale #wtnv spoilers #<- ? i guess haha #ask tag #huntokar #the distant prince

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

Text

(continuing the MLP GURPS snippet)

“You what,” says Erica flatly.

“I said…Jester the Pegasus slits the chief Seapony’s throat. You said he was letting me pin the bronze seashell to his mane, right? So I shouldn’t have to roll for it, I can just use the edge of the seashell ‘cause his neck’s right there.” Dustin leans back with a shit-eating grin.

Eddie has to cover his own smile, because he recognizes the panicked look that Erica’s trying to hide. She’s the same kind of DM as Eddie is: she’s got a massive binder and detailed scripts for every possible way the story could go, because she likes to be prepared for anything. She just hasn’t learned yet that players are always, always going to try something you never saw coming because you assumed they were reasonable human beings and not chaos gremlins from a nightmare dimension.

She rallies like a champ. “Uh, sure, I guess. The hundreds of Seaponies around you go wild, because that was a super dumb thing to do. They’re gonna tear you apart if you don’t do something right now.”

Lucas leans in, eyes all lit up. “Okay, but, did the blood get onto the altar? I mean, the Moonlight Circle?”

Erica’s starting to grin too, lacing her fingers together as she catches on to what they’re after. “It sure did. Um, so…Jester the Pegasus Pony is standing over the fallen chief with a bloody shell in his teeth. The crowd of Seaponies is screaming at you, but the blood is already dripping onto the Moonlight Circle. It’s turning black as it reaches the salt water, and you can hear something real big coming up from the deep sea, wa-a-ay far down below.”

She’s pivoting with barely a stumble, going off-book to follow the story, and Eddie can’t keep from doing a thrilled little wriggle in his seat. A familiar laugh sounds from behind him, and he startles, flushing.

“Having fun?” Steve asks, resting his folded arms on the back of Eddie’s chair. Eddie has to tip his head all the way back to look at Steve.

“Hell yeah,” he says. “The Lady Sinclair is a demon incarnate.”

Erica beams. “Maybe you could keep up if you weren’t such a senior citizen. Need to get your walker from the nursing home, grandpa?”

“Youth of today have no respect.” Eddie wags a finger at her. “Keep that up and Steve’s going to swoop into the game like an avenging undead Seapony.”

“Steve is not involved in any of this,” says Steve. “Steve is a very generous and patient guy who lets unholy terrors take over his kitchen table and eat all his food.”

Eddie stretches up to pat his cheek. He misses slightly and ends up basically smacking Steve in the face. “Thank you, Steve,” he coos. “Say thank you, unholy terrors.”

“Thank you, Steve,” chorus Will and Lucas, who are precious angels too good for this world. Dustin and Mike pull grotesque faces that may or may not be based on faces Eddie has pulled in the past; Erica just sniffs in an unimpressed way. Eddie is going to keep these kids forever.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt…whatever this is.” Steve waves a hand at the piles of paper and dice and empty ice cream bowls. “I’m just gonna heat up some pizzas for dinner. Everyone okay with four-cheese and supreme?”

“Sounds great,” says Eddie. “We’re about ready to wrap up this session, I think.”

“What, no we’re not,” says Mike. “We’re about to kick the Seapony god’s ass.”

Erica wrinkles her nose. “As much as it might pain me to admit it…the senior citizen’s right. Fighting the Seapony god would be way too complicated a battle for your puny minds to handle right now. You dweebs don’t even know the insane twists I have planned.”

“Plus,” says Steve, “You dorks have been playing since before I got home like three hours ago. Give Erica a break, huh? You can pick this up another day.”

“I don’t need a break, you need a break, old man,” Erica says immediately, but she’s already starting to pack up her notes.

———

With the game mostly packed away, Eddie gets up to stretch; maybe he really is getting old, because he’s suddenly feeling the effects of sitting in a dining room chair for five hours all through his back. He’s gonna just keep blaming the bat venom for any aches and pains, though.

The boys are already busy trying to strategize for the battle ahead, even though Eddie would bet good money that Erica’s listening in and adjusting her own plans based on theirs. He thinks about saying something, but Erica’s earned this, and the little shitheads will never learn to keep their mouths shut if they don’t get burned once in a while. Instead, he wanders into the kitchen to help Steve out with the pizzas.

Steve’s staring thoughtfully into the freezer. “Think four’s enough?”

“Better make it five,” says Eddie. “Six if you got ‘em. I think Will grew another eight inches since yesterday.”

Steve groans. “Okay, but one of them’s going to be mushroom. Maybe if I do that one in the first batch, they’ll be hungry enough not to complain.”

“What are you talking about, Steve, mushrooms are the crowning glory of the forest. They are the simple food of the common man, yet rich and complex enough to adorn the plate of a king.” Eddie hops up to perch on the kitchen counter, narrowly avoiding smacking his head on the cabinets.

“Of course you like mushrooms, freak,” grumbles Steve. He freezes, looking pained. “I didn’t mean—”

Eddie scoots along the counter to kick him lightly. “Yeah, I know, Steve, don’t spin out. Just put the mushroom one in the oven for me and we’ll call it square.”

Steve smiles up at Eddie as he goes to do just that, dropping his hand to Eddie’s knee for a moment.

“I’m—gonna go make sure the kids aren’t murdering each other yet,” says Eddie.

#steddie #(mostly just a bit of implied pining but yk)#the first MLP GURPS snippet has been dominating my notes since I posted it #still don't know where this is going or if it's going anywhere but...here u go #it's fun as heck to write someone figuring out how to DM #sorry to anyone who thought I was going to write about GURPS mechanics because I will not be doing that #but uh if anyone has a copy of the 2e/3e basic set...maybe hmu? my books have long been lost to the ravages of time #fic: what will today's adventure be

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xoxo-sarah · 9 months

Text

I Wanna Be Yours || Part 4

Part 3 | part 5

↝a/n: repost cause tags weren't working. I don't like this chapter but it has important events for reader's story line.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader

↝ Warning: not proofread. Canons events, bloody noses, headaches, nightmares, homophobia (?)

↝⎙ 7.31.23

The first time you had met Robin was right after Nancy and Steve had broken up. Ironic really. Your sister got her heartbroken and you met someone who seemed to take your breath away with a single glance. She had gotten the locker right beside yours, leading you two to start a conversation one morning. Talking to her was easy.

1983 was a crazy year. Not only with family drama but with Will going missing, Joyce losing her mind, according to everyone in town, and the Demogorgon. You somehow got pulled into the loop and never could get out.

Next, it was the Mind Flayer. Will pretty much getting possessed. Some gate to the upside down. You really didn't have a lot of time to get closer to her then.

The next year, you tried to forget about what happened, distracting yourself with trips to the mall. You didn't see Robin a lot until she got a job with Steve at Scoops Ahoy.

It was a little awkward going in there. You didn't really know Steve, having not had a lot of time to meet him when he and Nancy were together. But you did get to know each other when he helped Mike and Dustin. He seemed alright.

Robin was great. She was nice, smart, and sarcastic. When you'd buy ice cream, you always got a kick out of her picking at Steve. He needed to be kicked down a notch. She was the perfect one to do it.

Then, the mall fell. However, Robin was swooped into the loop. Even with her brains, you didn't want her to get involved. It was dangerous just being a normal citizen living in Hawkins, being clueless. Actually knowing what is happening and being a part in it...you rather her not.

Although you two talked and nearly died a few times, you kept your distance. Maybe it was the feelings or just not being at the same place in time.

Until senior year.

It is stressful, with all the work and all the basketball games. Everyone was actually trying this year. They had to.

Lucky for you, one of your teachers had partnered you and Robin up for a project.

After not really talking for a while, it was talking everyday- for the project, of course.

But it was different. She seemed...different. Maybe you were acting different too. You really couldn't tell.

The feelings were still in the bottom of your stomach, flaring up each time she was around. Each time she'd look at you, smile, god forbid her laugh at a dumb joke you made. You were a goner, you knew it, Chrissy knew it...eventually. Robin couldn't know it.

No, you forbid it.

There's no telling what would happen if it got out that you liked Robin- another girl. Hawkins could be cruel.

••••

Robin quietly hummed to the radio as Nancy drove. It was awkward, for some reason. Nancy was just acting...off. Sure, her friend died, but it seemed to be more than that, deep down.

It wasn't until Robin hummed the wrong note that you made a sound from the backseat.

Nancy broke from her stare at the road, glancing back at you.

The younger girl turned to look at you, a blush creeping on her face in embarrassment. But it was washed away quickly.

She couldn't help but notice the way your smile seemed to cut the tension like a knife . It was magnetic, drawing her in closer with every passing moment. Yet, the fear of ruining whatever it was you had held her back from confessing her true feelings. Ever.

Oh how she wanted to jump over the back seat and show you what she's kept to herself for so many years.

The feelings had only grown stronger when you nearly died together.

••••

"Okay, help me get his straight,"

You pulled your jacket closer to your body, having felt a chill run up your spine as soon as you stepped out of the car.

Robin and Nancy walked a little in front of you. "Eddie's uncle, Wayne, thinks that Victor Creel escaped from Pennhurst Asylum and that he's the one running around Hawkins, committing these murders?" Robin asked, her hands out at her sides.

"Pretty much." Nancy concluded with a close-lipped smile.

Robin turned back to you now, slowing a tad. "But Victor committed the eyeball murders, like, way back in the 50's."

"Well, '59."

Holding the door open for you, Robin let you go in first, questions still directed towards your sister.

Pushing the warm blush down, you tried to ignore how the simple gesture made you feel. Just manners.

"So, that means these murders predate Eleven in the Upside Down by about 30 years?"

"Yeah."

"Which makes spooky Victor Creel, like, 70 years old."

"Yep." Nancy dinged the bell, sighing with all the questions.

"So, he's a grandpa murderer who can turn invisible and lift people into the air."

"It doesn't make sense. I know-"

"Wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened." You interuppted.

"That's why I said it was a shot in the dark." Nancy seemed to ignore you altogether, not sparing you a glance when you had spoken up before.

With furrowed brows, you listened to them continue to talk, ringing the bell again. "I know. I just thought that by 'shot in the dark', you were being modest or hiding something super solid up your sleeve that you were gonna wow us with later. But this is really, truly a shot in the dark." Nancy dinged the bell yet again. "Like, we are snipers with blindfolds on who've been spun around 50 times." Robin went on rambling.

Nancy rapidly dinged the bell.

"Coming!" A lady sing-songed.

"Hi. Sorry, we're in a bit of a rush." Nance tried to be nice, "Could we get the keys to the basement archives?"

"Of course, give me one sec."

When the lady walked off, Robin turned, "Did i come off mean or condescending?"

"No." Nance quickly answered, before looking away.

"Right. Sorry. it's just you seem annoyed."

"She's always like that." Is what you inched to say, but you kept your mouth shut, just listening.

"You don't know me very well. I don't really have a filter ot a strong grasp of social cues. Y/n can vouch for me."

"Okay."

"If i said something that upsets you, just know that i know it's a flaw. Believe me, my mother reminds me daily." Wouldn't call it a flaw. Infact, you found it entertaining how she's ramble on about whatever when you'd work together in school. Sure, the project took longer than needed, but you got to know her and how her brain works. You found it quite adorable.

"Got it."

Pursing your lips, you couldn't help but want to tell your sister to loosen up and stop acting like that. But it's not really your place to tell her that, with her friend dying and everything. Wasn't really the time.

"Alright, ladies." The woman dangled the keys infront of her. "Here you go. Have fun."

"Yep, we'll try."

"Thank you." You smiled at the lady before following behind Robin.

••••

After not finding anything on Victor, you switched with Robin. The light from the screen was giving you a headache. You sat in the floor Infront of them, leaning your head back and closing your eyes for some kind of relief.

"Anything...juicy over there?"

"Nothing new." Nancy sighed.

"Yep, same here. Victor seemed like a normal guy. Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst. Blah, blah, blah, blah."

Nancy dropped her head in annoyance.

Robin moved to the side of the machine, looking at the other girl. "What are we looking for exactly?" When she didn't get a response, she knocked on the side of the machine.

You couldn't help the groan of pain that caught their attention. Your headache was only getting worse. It felt more like a migraine at this point.

Robin muttered an apology, turning back to Nancy with a softer voice.

"Any mention of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?"

"I don't know. Okay?" At her irritation, you opened your eyes to watch Nancy stand up in frustration. "It's started to seem like this was just a big waste of time. And you're obviously bored, y/n feels like her head's about to explode. Why don't you just call Steve? I'm sure he'll come pick you up." Was that...jealousy you were sensing? "And I mean, I'm not really in danger here so..." Nancy walked away.

You turned to Robin, who had her mouth open to reply but couldn't seem to find the words.

Standing up, you followed Nancy, Robin sat in silence for a few seconds before following.

"You do know that Steve and I are, like, totally not a thing, right?"

Robin leaned on the staircase rail that led to the file cabinets. Nance stopped looking through the drawer, instead listening to her words.

"What?" She turned, looking as if the other girl had lost her mind for thinking such a thing.

Robin walked around the shelves, moving to stand where you two were. "So, i figure you and Jonathan are still going strong 'cause you guys are going to college together and you're like one of those unstoppable power couples but i...i just. I wanted to make sure that you knew that Steve and I are just friends. Like platonic with a capital P."

Nancy looked up, her face falling onto you standing behind her. "Y/n, your nose is bleeding."

Moving to wipe your nose, you looked at the blood that appeared when you pulled your hand away. "Jesus."

Robin panicked, looking everywhere for some kind of tissue or napkin. After not finding anything, you had no other choice but to use your jacket. Gross? Of course. But it was the only thing you had at the moment. There's no way you were goi g all the way up to ask for a tissue for your bloody nose.

You waved the other two off, letting them continue their conversation.

After a few seconds, Robin continued, "Just in case that's adding any tension between us."

"It wasn't."

It was.

•••••

Rushing out of the building, you held the blood covered jacket balled up in your hand, "Dustin, do you copy?"

"Yeah, i copy."

"So, Nancy is a genius. Vacna's first victims date all the way back to 1959." Robin spoke into the walky-talky. "Her shot in the dark was a bull's-eye."

"Okay, that's totally bonkers, but I can't talk right now."

"Why?" You leaned over to speak clearly and to hear Dustin.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Robin followed up, opening the car door.

"Breaking and entering school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files."

"Jesus Christ." You flopped into the backseat.

"Can you repeat that?" Robin looked at you with worry for the boy and his actions. She was hoping the static messed up what he was actually saying, which totally wasn't that he had broken into school to steal personal files that he could get into big trouble for.

"Just get your ass over here, stat. We'll explain everything."

"I Thought they were talking to Ms. Kelly."

"We leave them alone for 2 hours."

••••

After games it wasn't unusual to have fun, drink and have a good ol' times. You were surounded by people who just wanted to have a good time and celebrate a win. Nothing happens, just drunken words thrown around carelessly, not a thought in most peoples under the influence minds.

You were always near Chrissy, who was often than not near Jason, who in turn, was with his friends.

The smell of alcohol and weeds wafted through your nostils and clung to your clothes. But you weren't worried about that when Chrissy was making you snort your water out of your nose.

You two were probably thw only sober ones in Jason's home. His parents had been out for date night, which he took full advantage of.

"I'm not even exagerating." Chrissy giggled, hitting your arm as you tried to wipe at the liquid you cough up.

Suddenly, the music stipped, along with Chrissy's giggles. Looking up, everyone had stopped what they were doing, eyes on you.

Turning to your side in confusion, Chrissy was staring at you in disgust. "Chris, wha-"

"You just had to be different, didn't you?"

You were now more confused than ever. What was she talking about?

Before you could question her further, she continued. "You're just confused."

"What are you talking about?!"

"You're a freak."

Jason spoke up in a nonchalant tone, but the disgust on his face said otherwise.

The room was closing in on itself, everyone moving in closer without seeming to move at all. All eyes were burning into your skin.

Standing up, you needed fresh air. This is all too much.

As you went to move your foot, it didn't move. It was as if they were glued to the floor, no matter how hard you tugged to move, you stayed where you were.

"Freak." Jason started up again, but everyone in the room echoed it. Chrissy stood, pushing you back, echoing the words aswell. You had noticed how she didn't look the same. Her jaw was to the side, clearly broke. Where her eyes used to be were hallowed. Like what Eddie had described. You screamed as she pushed you.

As you fell back, you never met the couch where you had been sitting. You continued falling, the words never stopping. They echoed and echoed and echoed, getting louder and louder and louder.

••••

Gasping, you jumped up, falling back against the backseat of Nancy's car due to the seatbelt, hitting your head. Cursing, you didn't notice Robin and Nancy bot looking back at you in concern. Nancy had stopped the car when you loudly gasped.

"Y/n? y/n? Y/n!"

Your head shot up, meeting Nancy's terrified eyes.

"Are you okay?"

It took you a second to register what she was talking about. "Wha- yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Ignoring how your voice sounded hoarse, you just wanting her to drive to where Dustin and everybody was. You wanted them to stop staring at you like you were crazy, like you were a freak. You don't know how Eddie doesn't act affected by being called that publicly.

"You sure?"

Robin's voice sounded different. Like she actually cared about you and how you were feeling. Not how people sound when they automaticlly ask if you're okay.

"Yeah, just drive."

reluctantly, Nancy began driving, glancing back at you often. Robin stayed turned around, watching you for a little bit before she turned back around, not wanting to just stare at you, even if she wanted to see for herself that you were, in fact, alright.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

• My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

🫧 Taglistׂׂ ૢ ~ @overtrred28 @ihatepeanutss

#sarahwasfound🍉#i wanna be yours #robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #stranger things fanfic #robin buckley angst #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x wheeler!reader #stranger things x reader #📼

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andheresthething · 1 year

Text

Crazy For You, Oh Boy

Summary: Nightowl dotes on you when you come to visit.

[Established Relationship] [Long-Distance Relationship] [Domestic Fluff] [Reunions] [Pet Names] [Kissing] [Cuddling & Snuggling] [Literal Sleeping Together] [Sexual Innuendos] [Househusband Energy] [No use of y/n] [Fem Reader]

•·················•·················•

Notes:

This is super rambly and drawn out but it's just loads of Nightowl fluff. Would appreciate feedback as I'd like to keep writing lil fics for my favorite Blooming Panic boy, carpal tunnel allowing.

Also, obligatory character playlist plug because I love it. Title comes from a lyric from a song on there :)

Reposted from AO3

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

You impatiently stared out of the window as the car turned into the parking lot of an apartment complex. As it comes to a halt, you could not have gotten out of it sooner. Grabbing your backpack, you thanked the driver before closing the door. You went around to the back, opened the trunk, and hauled out a duffel bag. As overworked as you were, your wallet be damned if you paid for a checked bag, not that you really needed it anyway. Slamming the trunk closed, the car drove off. With your backpack on and the world's heaviest duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you practically ran towards the entrance of the building.

Once inside, you rocked your feet back and forth as you waited for the elevator to come to the ground floor. While your destination was only one floor away, your cargo would kill you before making it up half a flight of stairs, not to mention how much a long, cramped flight takes out of you. After an agonizing wait, the elevator arrived with a ding. You hopped in and repeatedly pressed the door close button, knowing full well that doing so would not speed up the process at all. Pent-up excitement was being taken out on your phone via death grip as the elevator went up. Another ding allowed your phone to live another day. With an exit now available, your speed walking to your destination rivaled that of senior citizens at the mall at 7 in the morning. Halting yourself in front of the door, you knocked.

“Hold on!” Nightowl shouted from the other side. Some faint chaos bleed through the door for a moment before the door swung open. You immediately flung yourself onto the person in front of you, enveloping him in a bear hug forceful enough to push him back a step or two. “Woah, hey there, cutie. I missed you so much,” he laughed, reciprocating the hug with the same amount of love.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you more, sweetheart,” you spoke into his neck. The two of you stayed in the hug a moment longer before moving slightly apart, still enough to hold each other. Nightowl leaned down for a kiss, that you happily gave. Though short, both of you had been dying for it.

“Glad you’re back home, things just feel so off when you’re not here.”

“I know, just a few more months, and we never have to do this again,” you smiled at him, lifting yourself slightly for another kiss. When you broke apart, a playful pout was on his face.

“Why can't you just stay here now,” he whined, tightening his grip on your waist slightly. Even after finishing his graduate program, he still acted like a little kid at times. You loved his playful demeanor, though.

“Because my sadist job is trying to kill me before I can leave,” you responded, starting to sway the two of you. “At least the new one will be much better.”

“Mmh, can’t wait till then. But, in the meantime, I will be a chivalrous gentleman and take your bags so that you can take a nice, long shower. I’ll order some food after, and we can have a quiet night in.”

“Ah, you’re truly wonderful, darling.”

“Only the best for you, cutie,” he said, giving you a peck on the lips.

Letting go of each other, you immediately dropped your bags onto the floor and handed Nightowl your phone. While you kicked off your shoes, Nightowl took your bags back to the bedroom. You quickly made your way back to the bathroom. With as often as you visited, it was easier to get a second shower brush and share toiletries than lug your own back and forth. Given that Nightowl wasn’t the 20-in-1 type of guy, you didn’t have to worry about your hair being dry and skin breaking out.

As you took your long-deserved shower, Nightowl put himself to work unpacking your things. Putting your clothes in his closet, your phone and laptop on his desk and charging them, accessories on his own stands, and whatever else you had brought in their rightful places. While the majority of the time he wouldn’t do these things for himself, for you, he spends a full day getting his place clean up for your arrival. Not to say that he was a slob, but the life of an architect could be very demanding. He sometimes joked with himself that if his carrier fell through he would be the perfect househusband for you.

Eventually, your shower ended and you went across the hall in your towel to get changed. Walking into the bedroom, you’re greeted with Nightowl laying on the bed, scrolling through the several options on DoorDash. He looked up at you and grinned. “You’re looking good, cutie. I unpacked everything for you while you were in there.”

“Absolutely wonderful you are,” you hummed, making your way over to the closet to pick out something to throw on for the night.

“For you, anything,” He stared at you, nothing but adoration filling his eyes as you grabbed your clothes. “Want me to close my eyes?”

“If you don’t mind,” you responded. Although you have seen each other in every state of undress imaginable, he still felt the importance of privacy whenever wanted. You appreciated his care, especially given your history of mediocre relationships with people who couldn’t bother with those sorts of things. When he closed his eyes, you quickly got yourself dressed in a random t-shirt of indeterminate ownership and the sluttiest pair of plaid pajama pants you could find. “You’re good now,” you spoke, starting to dry your hair off with the towel you wore into the room. At your command, Nightowl opened his eyes to look at you once more.

“I think I like this combo better than the towel.”

“I tried with the pants.”

“And you succeeded,” he chuckled. “So, did you think over what you want for dinner?”

“Hmm,” you began as you continued to dry your hair, “You craving anything?”

Nightowl shook his head, “Not really, I’m good with whatever.”

“Then can we get something from that one Chinese place over by that one bookstore?” you asked cheerfully.

“Sure thing, cutie. The usual?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, love!”

Nightowl went back to his phone to place your order while you went back to the bathroom to hang your towel. When you returned, he set his phone down and patted the spot next to him. You lay down next to him, moving closer to lay your head on his chest.

Nightowl wrapped an arm around your waist. “How was your flight?" he asked.

"About as good as it can get with two babies on board."

"Aw man, sorry you got stuck with that.”

"At least your neighbors don't have kids."

"I don't think I could have made it through grad school if they did. I hope the shower relaxed you some though," he said, starting to rub your stomach with his thumb slightly.

"Not as much as lying here with you right now," you smiled at him.

“Pretty girl on my chest and she’s this sweet? I won at life being able to have you all to myself.” Your face went pink at his words. Although he said things like that all the time, it never failed to make you feel like a dumb teenager when he did. The best you could do was let out a small whine in response. “Aww, and you’re all flustered by that? You’re killing me here, cutie.”

“Oh, shush, it’s just 'cause I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Sure, if you say so,” he hummed.

The two of you continued to talk about random topics as you waited for your dinner. Due to the wonders of technology and neither of you possessing the ability to be okay with not calling every day, there wasn’t anything exactly big to catch up on. A little while longer went by until Nightowl got a notification that the driver was at the building. The two of you got up, he to acquire the food, and you to grab drinks and pick out the entertainment you would be promptly ignoring. After a decent look in the fridge, you grabbed two beverages of choice and plopped yourself onto the couch.

You waited a moment longer before Nightowl came back with the food. He brought the bag to the couch and rummaged through it to hand you your food along with a pair of chopsticks graciously provided by the restaurant. You, starving, started eating before he even got around to opening his food.

“God, I’ve missed this so much,” you started between chews, “Seriously, this place has the best Chinese food I’ve ever had.”

“And here I was thinking you meant eating takeout with me,” he joked.

“I suppose I missed that too, but I don’t know, this lo mein is pretty fucking good,” you shot back. With his free hand, Nightowl placed a hand on his chest and leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Oh, I can’t believe she loves egg noodles more than me!” he remarked. You giggled a bit in response.

“Fine, perhaps I love the current activity more than egg noodles.”

“Just the activity?”

“You’re not gonna make me say this, are you?”

“How else would I know if you don’t say it out loud, to my face?” The little antic of his was one reminiscent of one faithful night in the call channel of the Bloomic server. Over time, you learned that he loved to pull this type of line either to get you flustered over little things or annoy the shit out of you.

“Fine, I definitely absolutely, love you, Nightowl, more than egg noodles or eating egg noodles in your presence,” you playfully groaned out.

“You hear that? She loves me more than egg noodles!” he shouted. You smiled at his response. Though a cute moment, it was quickly ended by a banging from the wall in front of you.

“Shut the fuck up in there!” A neighbor shouted through the wall. The two of you stared at each other in surprise before Nightowl yelled a quick apology back.

“That’s the second neighbor you’ve pissed off by boasting about my love for you,” you said after a moment.

“I would happily piss off several more if it means I can brag about you,” he said, going back to finish his food, “Granted, as long as it doesn’t get me evicted.”

You chuckled. “Good call.”

As time went on, you continued mindless banter accompanying the completion of your meals. Even once finished, the two of you sat together and talked for what seemed like forever. You even managed to squeeze out some information, albeit, fairly vague, about the dates he had planned for the two of you during your stay. At some point, all the travel and excitement of the day had gotten the better of you. While you did try to hide it, a yawn gave your state of energy away to Nightowl.

“I saw that, cutie. A queen needs her beauty sleep.”

“Says you.”

“I’ll have you know that I still get my full 8 hours every night,” he asserted.

You chuckled, which turned into another yawn. “Maybe so, but you still live life in another time zone.”

“When you’re here, it gets a bit more normal.”

“Really?” you thought for a moment, “Huh, I guess it does. Wonder why?”

“Maybe it’s cause I worry about your well-being in terms of sleep so much that it rubs off on me,” he pondered.

“If taking care of me gets you to take care of yourself, then I'm all for it,” you smiled at the sweetness of it all.

Nightowl got up and started collecting the empty containers, “You go on to bed, I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm, you come first, cutie.”

You got up from the couch, “Absolutely the best to me.”

You cupped his face, giving him a peck on the cheek before making your way to bed. Little did you know, but that small act of affection melted Nightowl’s heart. Blushed, he took a moment from cleaning up to compose himself. He didn’t exactly know why he reacted with the fuzzy, teenager-in-love feeling, but he welcomed it nonetheless. He picked up the pace to join you just slightly sooner.

While he was finishing up, you had practically thrown yourself into bed, the exhaustion finally hitting you. You got yourself comfortable and passed the time looking around the room, studying what’s changed since you last visited. Though a tad boring, you didn’t exactly possess the brain power to check your phone and retain anything.

Eventually, a blonde figure caught the corner of your eye. You turned to face your beloved Nightowl as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned off a small desk lamp, allowing the fairy lights over his bed to illuminate the room. You sleepily pat the spot next to you, which he happily filled, snuggling as close to you as he could. The sparking of the lights above the two of you reflected in his brown eyes. Even in your extremely groggy state, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your boyfriend.

“You ready to sleep?” he mumbled, seeming to try to hide a yawn of his own.

“Yeah,” your eyes were already fluttering closed. Nightowl brought an arm around you and planted a kiss on the top of your head. “Maybe tomorrow you can be the activity I love.”

“I will most definitely make sure that becomes true,” he smiled, “Goodnight, cutie.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The warm lights illuminated the two of you drifting off to sleep together for the first time in months. All became still in that apartment, and for a night, all was right in the world.

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