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shoddynomenclature · 2 months

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Companions React to Reader Sitting on Their Lap

It’s another pretty short one this week, as I’ve had terrible Minthara brainrot and I’ve been able to write nothing but filthy smut 😔

Anyway, this one is some family friendly head canons about the ladies with a bonus Dame Aylin and Isobel!

Shadowheart

Shadowheart doesn’t say anything at first, but you do notice her skin get slightly redder, and you watch a tiny smirk grow across her face.

She’s not typically one for public displays of affection, but something about lap sitting is different.

It’s like affection with plausible deniability. What else was I supposed to do? Sit on the floor?

After you’ve done it once, Shadowheart considers the barrier broken and takes every opportunity to sit on your lap.

Sometimes you think she must have a sixth sense that tells her when you sit down, because she simply appears on your lap.

If you cross your legs or do anything else to prevent her sitting in your lap, she gives you a little cough to let you know you should remedy that as soon as possible.

Depending on who’s around, she’ll sometimes lean back against you, pressing her whole body to yours.

She likes it when you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on her shoulder.

While she prefers to be the one sitting on your lap, she’s still more than happy to let you sit on hers.

Lae’zel

The first time you try sitting on her lap, she pushes you off. Why are you sitting on top of her? Weirdo. You roll your eyes and sit on the ground.

But then she decides that it’s weirder you’re sitting on the ground so she gives you her seat.

But then she doesn’t want to stand anymore. Tsk’va. Whatever. Guess she’s gonna have to sit on you.

Lae’zel only ever sits on your lap, never the other way around. She oddly never picks up on any of the possible implications of that.

If anyone calls Lae’zel a bottom she’s gonna throw hands.

She doesn’t lay up against you or anything. To her this move is strictly practical, or at least she acts like it is.

You let her have it. As far as you’re concerned, you have a lovely girlfriend on your lap so you’re not going to complain.

Karlach

The first time you nonchalantly sit down in Karlach’s lap, she’s so chill and unfazed.

At least, that’s the vibe she’s trying to give off. She can be cool about this. So cool.

It’s less than a minute before her body starts to betray her. Her legs bounce up and down excitedly under you. As soon as you turn to face her, her stoic expression cracks into one of pure delight.

After that, Karlach pulls so many tricks to ask you to sit in her lap without actually having to ask.

Oh no! There’s no more chairs! Wherever will you sit? Looks like it’ll just have to be in her lap again. Ignore those broken chairs hidden in the corner, this isn’t about them.

You catch on pretty fast. Only so many chairs can disappear before things start to get suspicious.

You sit yourself on Karlach’s lap, watching the goofy smile grow across her face. “You know you can just ask, right?”

Her skin flushes and she buries her face in your neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, she’ll never sit on your lap because she’s too afraid to crush you. Even if you’re bigger than her. You’re too precious to risk it.

Minthara

Minthara is always taking up as much space as she desires in any given situation, so it’s not uncommon that she takes up the space of more than one person.

Luckily she’s always got a place for you to sit, whether that be in between her legs or on them.

She’s never bashful about pulling you into her lap, even when there people are around.

If anything, an audience actually encourages her. You are hers, and that is most clear to everyone when you’re perched on her thigh.

Other times she will be slightly more subtle, tapping her inner thigh in a silent invitation, queuing you to join her.

There are very few scenarios in which Minthara will sit on your lap though. At least, in public.

If you try to get her to sit, she’ll shoot you an “I know that you know this isn’t how this works” look, leaving you to let her take your seat and take your position on her lap.

Jaheira

It really depends on the day with Jaheira.

Most days she going to tell you to get an extra chair. There is no need for you to be sitting in her lap right now.

Sometimes, even if there is no extra chair she would have you sit at her feet in front of her before she let you into her lap.

But on those particularly long and hard days, when you come back looking exhausted and beat, she will allow for some extra tenderness.

She’ll gently guide your head to rest on her shoulder or against her chest and stroke your hair.

If you’re in a more comfortable space she will even slide her hand up under your shirt to rub your back.

More often than not, you fall asleep almost instantly, even if everyone around you is still making a ruckus.

She’s still not going to carry you to bed though. You can walk yourself there.

Dame Aylin x Isobel

Isobel is a princess and Dame Aylin is her throne. It’s more common than not the Isobel is on Aylin’s lap.

For Aylin, it’s like displaying a beautiful trophy. She needs everyone to look at her beautiful girlfriend right now.

The notion makes Isobel blush, but she’s just as proud to have Aylin as Aylin is to have her, so she’ll allow it.

Aylin doesn’t sit on Isobel’s lap, nor would she ever allow her to give up her seat, but Aylin will sit at her feet and gaze up at her with awe and wonder while Isobel smiles down at her and runs her hands through the aasimar’s hair.

And Selune forbid there’s no place for Isobel to sit. Aylin would sooner get down on one knee and let Isobel sit on her leg than leave a tired Isobel to stand.

Aylin’s shoulders are also an acceptable option. She can hoist Isobel up there with ease. She’ll never have to walk for any longer than she wishes.

Granted, it makes them like 10 feet tall, so there’s only a few places it’s applicable before Isobel has to be on alert for low hanging obstacles.

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mizusnose · 3 months

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ahem so I just read your college fuckboy mizu headcanons (which I loved) and was wondering if I could request a lil something about fuckboy mizu genuinely liking the reader so she makes changes to convince the reader she's serious. Reader would probs be SUPER skeptical bc casual relationships isn't their thing but it'd be so cute. Obvs you can just ignore this if you don't want to do it my mind has just been mizu brainrot lately

so i’ve been letting this one marinate for a bit BUT: reader who gets together with Taigen to spite Mizu who won’t get serious for reader. Cue the jealousy, club shenanigans, and poet mizu (!!)

boyfriend by dove cameron for max brainrot

———

Taigen was a fine boyfriend. All things considered. He was better than most of the guys you’d been with before, and he had a motorcycle that he’d let you take pics with and post them on your feed.

But, he wasn’t Mizu.

This point had been made several times. Mostly on Taigen’s end. His constant whining of I see the way you look at her, god I bet you thought I was a woman huh, better yet—you wished I was her huh!

He wasn’t wrong, necessarily. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten bored and decided to go to Taigen’s fencing practice. It wasn’t like you’d intended on falling head over heels for the hot butch lesbian who had a mean smirk and a sweaty jaw when she whooped Taigen’s ass.

You still remembered the way she had her neck bared, her hair falling over her shoulders, the beat of her heart nestled in between her collarbones, the dark green of her veins under her skin.

So, yeah, maybe you did have a thing for Mizu, who may or may not be your boyfriend’s biggest rival.

Heavy quotations on the rival part since Mizu didn’t give a shit that Taigen hated her—in fact, she didn’t care that the majority of the lesbians, bisexual, and bi-curious girls on campus hated her guts.

But that was what made her interesting.

You’d thought about it often: her, telling you to leave as soon as you’d come on her tongue or strap or fingers, (whatever was fine, you weren’t picky.) and you’d feel that tug in your tummy and your jaw would relax and fall open and—

“hah, did you come?”

And then you’d be back where you started: dating Taigen and fucking him and not being able to enjoy it or come or anything.

The thing was this: You’d only ever been in long-term relationships. Never dabbled in casual one night stands that Mizu was rumored to stick by. Even if you did want her, her time was limited. And you didn’t exactly love sharing.

So, when Taigen complained about having to go out this weekend to “bond or some teammate trust building shit, pfft, as if we aren’t trying to kill each other every practice. Not to mention Mizu will be there,” You convinced him to go, and for you to tag along. As moral support of course.

Now as much as Taigen loved telling you how much he hated Mizu, he liked coming to the thought of her much more. You’d done it quite often, bring Mizu up in sex, the way she’d fence and made him look like a fucking loser. How good she’d look kissing you, having you, taking you away from him. You’d both come then, not just him.

So you supposed it wasn’t that weird to be crushing over Mizu. Especially when the weekend came and the alcohol was sweet and fizzy and the wine dark and bitter, and the club lights shimmering on Mizu’s skin, her hair, her hands as she came up behind you.

“Hey.” She said. Simple, easy, confident. Her hands brushed your exposed back, the bend of your hip, the jut of your ribs.

“Hi.” You said. Sultry, warm, quiet so she’d have to twist closer to hear you when you gasped as she held your waist, tighter this time. A little mean, “I have a boyfriend.”

And she’d chuckle, and pull away and quirk her dark eyebrow up, “Really? Him?” A barely there glance at Taigen who was with the other fencing team members taking body shots off one another, “I could be a better boyfriend than him, you know.”

She spun you around, the steady heat of her palm always on you, “You know me.” It wasn’t a question. You saw the way Mizu’s eyes dragged across your body on her way over, her tongue on her lips as she stared. She knew you were Taigen’s girlfriend.

“Been watching.” She brought you closer, shifted her hands and then you were close. Closer than you’d ever been to her before.

She smelled heady and like pinewood. The plane of her chest was defined, sturdy, and you wondered if she had small breasts, if they were sensitive.

“Can’t believe I almost went home when you’re here—all alone.” She smirked, the same damned smirk you’d replay in your mind as you masturbated and thought of her, “Think I might just steal you from him, hm?”

Her hands slipped up your back, to the bottom of your nape, a demanding grip: there one second, gone the next. She watched your face, your lips, your neck.

“Does this usually work on other girls?”

You pushed away then, your legs wobbly and your underwear damp. You wanted, but you knew exactly what Mizu thought of you: an easy thing, something of Taigen’s. Good for a night, forgotten the next.

So you straightened your clothes, and met Mizu’s confused gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”

Mizu’s mouth twitched. Barely. But you’d caught it as you turned, and headed to the bartop. Even if Mizu was who you’d wanted, being a one-night stand wasn’t what you wanted.

So, you walked back over to Taigen, beers in hand, and watched Mizu as you kissed him wide and dirty. Her glare a steely weight in your belly, and on your beating cunt.

You’d make Mizu yours, one way or another.

——-

Let’s make this a 2 parter. Poet mizu will have to wait. Thanks for the ask :)

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #headcanons #mizu x fem!reader #fanfiction #ask

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itsbeeble · 6 months

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I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.

So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)

OBSESSIVE

Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader

Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it

WC: 2462

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot

Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something.

It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something?

No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically.

In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.

It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day.

Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees.

These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory.

And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.

Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you.

A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee.

“Hey.”

Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around.

He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you.

You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him.

The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.”

“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks.

“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.

“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”

Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk.

Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?

“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.

He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg.

“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek.

It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist.

It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand.

Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?

“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—”

Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe.

You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes.

Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.

The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.

“Fuck”

It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.

He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that.

No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.

Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.

A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.

Or you can hear the angry typing.

“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it.

He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you.

“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days.

“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you.

“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad.

Scratch that, he does feel bad.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.

“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.”

Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it.

“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his.

“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”

“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns.

“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.”

“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”

“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!”

He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?”

You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad?

“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.

“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.”

What? “Chan— what does that—”

“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.”

You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left.

“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”

“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?”

The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him.

The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means.

His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched.

Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing.

A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time.

You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.

His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention.

“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you.

“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.

“What was it that you felt?”

He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair.

“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”

You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck.

Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.

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reilliane · 1 year

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i promised scara brainrots, here we go! slightly angsty, but more on the fluff side this time (surprisingly) and pretty self-indulgent! this is long lmao

✤ she/her

SPOILERS FOR 3.3 ARCHON QUEST!

: ̗̀➛ Reverse Isekai AU (becoming besties with a fictional character- wait, why is he here)

Imagine being in a fit of tears after playing through the Archon Quest. It's always been known that the narrative behind Scaramouche—Kunikuzushi, Kabukimono, Balladeer- just him, is tragic. But boy, with the way everything fell into place, he was meant for tragedy, it's awful.

It's difficult to focus on the characters' dialogue when you're busy trying to see through the blurriness of your eyes, but you manage. You hear him say something to the Traveler, and there shows up a choice box like always. Paying no mind to it, as you are occupied with sniffing and catching your breath, you press whatever.

He mentions ceasing, as what the trailer for version 3.3 entailed, and he's gone, and- wait. Did your game crash? Why is it frozen on a particular scene? Huh, your device shut down- your progress!?

Alas, you're not in the mood to lament over that when you can just spill woe over the story for the mean time. So you do just that, weep and roll around in your bed kicking your feet 'cause wow, yes, the guy's evil and all- but damn! His life is founded on nothing but angst! When you pull for him in game, you'll be placing him in the teapot with only the finest of comforts availa— OUCH!?

To your pain and confusion, something drops onto you from above, crushing your back as that something eventually topples out of your bed with a loud cuss. Wait a minute, was that a voice-? You take a peek and start laughing. Ahahaha, no, impossible, why- that only happens in fanfiction! Yet, his demanding question that reaches your ears in real time only serves to remind you that this is real.

“What the hell are you laughing at, you puny mortal? Answer my question or die where you stand!” AHAHAHA YOU'RE TRIPPIN'!

News flash, you're not. Because all of a sudden you are being pinned on the bed, with a very angry little man above you that doesn't seem to be joking around with what he said about killing you.

Holy smokes, it's supposed to be impossible but no, he's right there. On top of you. If you were reading some kind of e rated fanfiction in ao3, you would've screamed because hey he's looking pretty handsome right now but- woah, woah, calm dOWN SIR YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR ANSWERS!

As expected, Scaramouche does not believe an ounce of what you say, but resigns to it. After all, he has already 'deleted' his existence in Teyvat, it'd only seem logical if he were to be transported in an entirely different world...

Now, as he is a smart guy, he very quickly deduces that you somehow know him. Oh boy, imagine telling him that he's someone from a game. At first, he'll laugh bitterly at it, saying something like 'of course. my misery was some kind of amusement, is it?' BRO mission therapy starts now. You're no Nahida, but still!

Now imagine him learning that he has 'fans'. Boy will be so confused like, fans what fans- do you mean those accessories orrrr-

He understands what you meant when you show him that he has a 'following', and he's pretty stumped. He only ever knew Haypasia, he had a single follower, but in this place- he had... tens of thousands? HUH? HUH??

As he's already been given a reality slap by the Traveler and Nahida, he's no longer in the mindset to be all god-like, but boy the temptation... until he realizes that he doesn't have any elemental powers. And he's become human. Oh boy.

When he realizes that he's breathing and has a heartbeat, dude stares at you for like a minute straight. Is this real? Look, look! He snatches your hand and holds it over his chest and- holy hell he's right, he has a beating heart.

Give him some space to process things, his mind is currently exploding right now.

It'll take him time to understand that he's loved as much as he is hated in this world. The latter he understands, but the former... oh, is this real? He still can't believe it, so you had to go through various social media platforms just to prove a point. He bares his eyes to numerous 'posts' that range from 'YO HE BETTER COME HOME I'LL TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIM', 'AHSDAKJHDJAKDHA HE'S SO HOT BARK BARK YEOAWOADSADH', and other more... flustering posts.

HE'S LOVED! Well, he's also hated, but he's LOVED! In all his confused snark, he asks you where you stand in those two groups. Bro's putting you on the spot, good luck.

If you manage to evade that question, you'll tell him that he's free to stay with you until he gets the ropes of this world. It'll be a bit difficult to adjust with someone new and yes you've screamed far too many times when he pops up somewhere in the house, completely still in disbelief that he's there, but it'll be alright.

When you first accompany him outside, you had to throw him in huge clothes just so that he won't be noticeable. Even if he was 'humanized', he still looks a lot like how he does in game, not to mention his voice. He dislikes hiding, but has to put up with it.

Bro highkey basks in the glory when you both go to a genshin convention and see all the love for him. It's the one time he gets to dress up in his Harbinger attire (though he admits he dislikes having connections with it after knowing the truth) and show himself without fear of hearing "YO ARE YOU SCARAMOUCHE? YOU LOOK LIKE THE REAL DEAL!" because cosplayers are a thing. When he finds out that he gets a 'redesign' he pesters you to buy him the outfit. How laughable, how can the OG guy not have his own made clothes in the game??? You cave of course.

He's still a smug lil shi- though, so he will say that he is the one and only 'Wanderer/Scaramouche' when asked in the convention. Your panicked screaming in the background is thoroughly enjoyed, please, continue giving a good show as he revels in all the attention. Before long, posts about him are scattering all around the internet and you lecture him about the mob on your door and the diehard "HE'S MINE!" fans that has sent threats in your social media. They still believe he's just a really good cosplayer, but still...

“Hah, what're you so scared of?” he'll just smirk in the middle of your lecture, “They won't be able to land a hand on you so long as I'm here.”

Cue malfunction. He knows what he's doing, isn't he? This smug piece of- you'll kick him back into the game if you could!

“Like hell you will. Even if you can, you won't do it. Your boring human life has only become interesting because I'm here.” + :P

DAMN, HE RIGHT THOUGH!

ive always liked his character from the moment he appeared in that first event but now that his lore is fleshed out it's time to go ham >:D

#moonlitrambles #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #scaramouche angst #genshin headcanons

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kamesama · 5 months

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the character ai got my thoughts running. anyway, i've been on a tōji brainrot for a while soooo. enjoy this slow-burn. note: fem! reader; some suggestive moments but nothing n/sfw.

arranged marriage with zenin tōji ( a slow-burn )

it's neither of you being overjoyed by the prospect. puppets to your families, you found yourselves in a dead end. sure, you could have dug and crawled your way out of it, but it was easier to bite your cheeks and nod your heads. you fill your mouths up all the way to the roof, to the back of your teeth and clench your jaws until the time comes to break that thick silence between just the two of you.

the wedding night is everything save for the typical fantasy involving butterflies-in-your-gut kind of intimacy, joyous smiles, happy tears and sweet promises that chain you for life. there is none of that. there is only silence, so heavy that it sits on your shoulders and an unimpressed look on your faces as irritation eats you up.

tōji scoffs and scowls, but he doesn't care. he has no interest in tending to a spouse he didn't choose, let alone one that was handpicked solely to spite him and stomp on his pride. his voice is flat, his shoulders relaxed and his gaze indifferent. he doesn't love you, and he is not going to act like he does. he might just break the spiteful silence with a comment of, well, this sucks, doesn't it, because he knows that you're not beaming with joy, either.

it's not sharing the bed, or sleeping back-to-back with a pillow wall between the two of you. it's complaining about the snoring, tossing and turning, or sleeping so damn quietly that one could think they're sharing a bed with a fresh corpse. it's getting irritated with the way tōji's toothpaste drips into the sink never to be washed off the smooth surface, or with the clothes draped over the chair and mattress. it's the bite in your voice and furrow of tōji's brows as the skin right beneath his eye twitches.

it takes time. god, it takes time. but eventually, there comes a ritual of sitting in the living room with a cup of hot beverage in front of you, or a bowl of instant noodles with hard-boiled eggs on top. tōji's eyes boring through the plot of whatever tv show you occupied yourself with before you converse about the most mundane things with bitter smiles, lamenting your fates underneath a breath of sarcasm. conversations drag themselves through transformation into something deeper, more sincere and one day both of you might just laugh cordially. it's like having a weirdly close friend at home, a roommate that you don't know how to look at rather than a spouse, but soon enough you chatter about your high school crush, tōji's type of woman and whether or not lacy lingerie looks better than smooth. soon enough you have your fair share of inside jokes and soon enough you realise that you share a favourite candy.

it's using one another to scratch that itch, to satiate that desire, to bite one another's lips out of pure utter frustration and lust. you still fall asleep back-to-back, but at least you got something out of it; a hickey. a high. a hint of relief as that tension evaporates from your muscles before your head smashes into the pillow and fatigue overwhelms you.

or it's practicing small touches that feel more awkward than a teenager's first kiss. starting to rest your cheek against tōji's shoulder when you watch a movie. tōji leaning in just a little too close to the side of your face while you cook something or tend to your hobbies. putting your cold hand in his pocket while you stroll as if it's the most natural thing to do, and your heart just barely skipping a beat. it's gentle pondering over little things; you asking about his scar as you dare trace your digit across the edge of his lip and him commenting about your mole in the most curious of places.

having a wife at home starts to sink in into tōji's mind and, regardless of how much he cannot stand your collection of skin-care products conquering the shelf in the bathroom, or how much your attitude irks him from time to time, his eyes will pierce and cut through whoever looks at you the wrong way or dares to utter anything tasteless about how you walk your walk or talk your talk. the word 'wife' drips off his tongue with such intensity that it paints him as the most devoted man to have walked upon the face of the earth.

likewise, a small smile seems to start gracing your lips as the word 'husband' leaves your mouth, no longer coated in some sense of loathing and rather resembling the way schoolgirls talk about their sweethearts with a dose of virginal shyness. just a little bit.

the ups and downs are heavy and intense, and the fingers your families dip into your life doesn't help in extinguishing any flames of irritation and displeasure. it's a process to talk things through and step over ego and pride, but you've also become one another's routine at this point. the bed feels a little too empty without another person on the opposite side of the pillow barrier. you might as well join hands and live to spite the zenins and all others. it's a promise made in the middle of the night, under the doorframe to the bedroom.

it's slowly but surely coming to tolerate one another, despite the clothes still hanging over the chair and the toothpaste still sticking to the sink. it's learning that tōji seems to melt as soon as his head is in your lap and your fingers in his hair, or that you love that specific type of hug that feels just right. it's becoming friends and lovers, it's fuelling the passion with those embers of frustration that never seems to fully leave you, it's removing the pillow between the two of you so that you can talk about little nothings and whisper how you may just try to find life's meaning together, along the way.

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #toji #zenin toji #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jjk headcanons #headcanons #toji headcanons #kamesama

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fortunatelyenchantingtaco · 2 months

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I don’t specifically see Yuuta as particularly possessive or agressive or whatever, only as a cinnamon roll(like he is fucked up, but not as much as the fandom portrays him tbh which is a shame) BUT due to my brainrot about the fact that we know nothing about the Gojo clan and the fact that i do have a WIP about what if Satoru didnt go to school and just was homeschooled the whole way

I just kinda think a lot about shit like that the clans have some traits that come with blood. And that Gojo’s is that they are possessive mfs. And that Six Eyes isn’t necessarily haven’t been born for hundreds of years, but that kids who have them die within seconds of being born because of overwhelming stimuli. Or mothers die because of how much power the baby takes. That Satoru isnt a miracle because he was born, he is a miracle because he survived

Like i love myself some Gojo angst but i also like the concept of the clan changing under Satoru and in general being a home to him cause i am a sucker for any kind of family and nothing can stop me

So yeah. Satoru taking Yuuta in and teaching him that No We Dont Control our crushes and do not follow them. Yeah we dont. Yeah i did that once now he’s genocidal. Still hot though. Yeah thats why we do not arrange marriages god knows no Gojo has ever forgotten the person they loved. Yeah. You want candy?

#jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #satosugu #yuuta okkotsu #i dont see him the way jjk fandom does #but i wont hesitate to imagine him like that cause it looks fun #my dude has Urges like a true gojo satoru is so proud #they are walking atomic bombs #but they cannot function in a society

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moonlit-jellies · 3 months

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jealousy jealousy

this was a request for @sheneyney so thank u so much for encouraging my brainrot

so i turned this into headcanons bc big paragraphs trigger enough anxiety in me to kill a bear so ENJOY!!!! its a bit different from the og prompt but those jealousy themes are still. strong

just wanna. smack him around a lil and kiss his face

18+ readers only pls

tags: eric x reader, fluff, MILD allusions to adult content so 18+ only (saying it again minors get out of here), jealousy, eric kinda being shitty to other people (can expand on this in other pieces just say the word)

established relationship:

ok so i know in my heart and soul that eric gets so fucking jealous HOWEVER. this is not standard "oh they're my partner im protective/possessive over" no no no

this guy is completely fine with you sparring with other people, hanging out, going to parties, all that shit does not phase him even someone else flirting with you (to a certain extent) hes just kind of watching with a smirk bc he knows that a) you would kick their ass if they tried something and b) you wouldnt cheat on him. hes too confident to have that as one of his major worries in your relationships

the thing he gets jealous over is when you have to do anything that requires nonviolent touching or other like. one-on-one things like that

see fear sim training

i can imagine like every once in a while all the dauntless members are required to do their fear sims again just to keep their skills up you know?

and he can't administer your sim bc of some kind rule that bc youre dating its not allowed or whatever

and hes just waiting for you to be done absolutely seething that someone else is in there with you when youre in one of the most vulnerable states you could be in

you come out being like oh yeah it sucked but like whatever and hes ready to pounce bc if he doesnt get his hands on you

immediately he'll like. die probably so he doesnt get jealous a lot but when he does its so fucking obvious and honestly kind of funny bc hes just SEETHING

what if it was reversed????

if YOU are jealous of someone being flirty with him he will see that and immediately be so shitty about

some girl is flirting w him and hes like apathetic towards it you sass him later and hes like mmmm dont do that youve got competition (he wouldnt cheat on you) (you know that)

you roll your eyes but grip him a little harder when youre going to sleep that night

pre relationship:

before you starting dating, when he was 1000% crushing on you, he would get jealous over other people sparring with you and shit like that

at first you couldn't understand why this dude would just. death glare at you while you were doing anything one-on-one with another person and you kind of got used to it

(when you start dating you put two and two together and you hold that over his head for MONTHS)

and like. pre-headcanon-character-development, he definitely would have been like an absolute dick to people who asked you out

youd be stood up by people and not understand why not knowing he either threatened or physically hurt them to prevent them from going on that date (not a good thing and he gets . less shitty about it in the future but lets be real in canon hes a shitty guy) (hes hot tho :3)

#eric coulter x reader #divergent #whehehehehe i like him a lot #this is a nice break from my school work blurgh

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honey-on-your-tongue · 1 year

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Housewife situation fem!reader with abby anderson???? Fluff and smut or whtv you want!! <3

Ok here's the thing, I love love love Abby Anderson. Like I have an enormous crush on her okay. And I just—THE BRAINROT IS REAL. And picturing a whole housewife scenario with her??? This just makes me want to marry her ONG 😩😩😩😩😩😩

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Abby always wakes up early since she's got the morning patrol. She'll be out of bed before the sun rises, and she'll pepper your face with kisses as she leaves.

You grab her by the wrist, the hem of her shirt, her hand—whatever you can reach of her in your half-dozed state.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling her towards you, and she sits on the bed beside you. “Please. Just five more minutes.”

“You know I can't, baby,” she tells you, brushing your messy hair off your face. “I'll be late to work.”

“Please,” you insist, cuddling into her lap, her thighs strong beneath her khakis.

She sighs gently and caves. “Five more minutes,” she agrees, holding you, caressing your face. She loves how you look so pleased that she's staying five minutes more beside you. Sometimes, she can't understand how she managed to get someone like you to love her. It amazes her as much as it thrills her.

When the five minutes are over, she presses kisses to your forehead as she says her goodbyes, and you watch her go with half-lidded eyes.

You get out of bed a few hours later, when the sun is bright and shining through the thin curtains. You change out of your pajamas into a pair of small shorts and one of Abby's t-shirts that smells like her, and get to your chores.

You make yourself breakfast and clean your plates, you sweep the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom, and the hall. You dance and sing on your own with a few songs that play on the radio, and you think about Abby.

You make the bed, organize the pillows, fold your pajamas and Abby's. As you're working and singing, your eyes fall on the pretty pink box of yours that Abby stashed under the bed.

Your pussy clenches at the knowledge of what's in there, and, even though you shouldn't—you still have chores to do and no time to waste—you slide the box out from under the bed and open it.

Inside: a tube of lube, a rabbit vibrator, a few bullet vibrators, handcuffs, and a stack of Polaroids that you're quickly reaching for. You realize that Abby's strap on isn't here, which only riles you up more because it means she's wearing it to work.

You climb on the bed, eyes scanning over the pictures. There you are, all teary-eyed and swollen lips as you suck on Abby's cock. Another picture of you with your thighs spread, your slick dripping down to the bed, your thighs covered in hickeys. A third one reveals your breasts, littered in bite marks and hickeys, Abby's mouth in the picture as she sucks your nipple. Another one, you on all fours while Abby fucks you from behind, the strap on coated in your slick, your ass red from where Abby's rough hands have been gripping it.

You can feel your pussy throbbing, your arousal pooling onto your panties. You lay back against the pillows, one hand rubbing your pussy over your shorts while you continue studying the pictures.

Abby fucking you from behind, both of you standing as she forces you to watch yourself in a mirror, the flash a bright white against the edge of the mirror. A picture you took, Abby's gorgeous blue eyes looking right into the lens from between your thighs, your pussy raw, Abby's mouth and chin covered in your slick as she eats you out.

You push your shorts to the side, along with your panties, and run your fingers over your dripping folds. A soft breath leaves your lips as you brush soft circles on your clit.

Another Polaroid shows you on top of Abby, your head thrown back, your chest on display as you ride her.

You pinch your clit, placing the Polaroids on the bed beside you, focusing on your fingers on your cunt and wishing it was Abby touching you.

Unbeknownst to you, Abby has taken advantage of the fact that it's Friday, and she's managed to get someone to replace her afternoon shift. By midday, she's making her way back home. Back to you.

The radio is on, some late 80s jam playing loud enough for Abby to hear the music through the door as she fetches her keys out of her pocket.

She unlocks the door and walks in, shutting it after herself. She walks down the hall, making her way toward the kitchen in search of you when she hears you gasping in the bedroom.

Somewhat alarmed, Abby rushes towards the bedroom, swinging the ajar door open and saying, “Baby?” only to find you on the bed, all spread out, soaked shorts and panties pushed to the side while you fuck yourself.

You jump when you see Abby, quickly removing your fingers from your cunt. “Bee!” you say, shocked, as you sit up, trying to recover your breath.

Her blue eyes study the bed, the Polaroids you were using to get off, the pink box full of your sex toys, and she's quick to do the math.

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you always touch yourself when I'm not home?”

You swallow, cheeks warming with a blush, and shake your head. “No, I-I was going to get started on lunch, I just—You're home early,” you stutter out.

“Lunch, you say?” She grins, ignoring your comment as she makes her way toward the bed, discarding her jacket and her halter on the ground. “That sounds real good right about now. I'm fuckin' starving.”

You watch as she climbs on the bed, crawling towards you, and she places her hands on your hips. With a quick, swift movement, she pulls your shorts and your panties off, and tosses them aside.

You gasp softly as she leans down, placing her mouth to one of your thighs, then the other, before licking over your folds.

You shudder, laying back down against the pillows, your nails digging into the bed sheets. “Bee,” you mewl lowly. “Please, I've needed you so bad.”

Abby smirks before she presses her face into your pussy, her nose against your clit, her mouth sucking at your folds before her tongue slides into you.

You reach for her head, fingers eagerly tugging at her braid until you manage to pull it loose. Her blond locks fall over her shoulders, and you tangle your fingers in them, hips rutting up to meet her face.

“Abs,” you whine, legs trembling around her head. She lifts your thighs and wedges her broad shoulders between them, placing your legs to rest on her shoulders.

She drags her teeth over your clit, making you shudder, and she smirks. She loves how sensitive you are when she touches you, how you get soaked with only a few licks. You're so easy for her, and she loves it.

“Please,” you gasp, back arching off the bed, your eyes fluttering shut. Your fingers drag through Abby's thick hair, pulling her closer, your cunt raw and throbbing against her tongue.

She groans into you, making you mewl, and she can feel her own pussy growing wet, soaking the strap on she wore. She enjoys having eight inches of pink silicone between her thighs, imagining you on it, impatient to get home and stuff it inside you.

“Fuck me,” you beg, trying to pull her away from between your thighs. “I need you inside, Abs. Please.”

“Not yet,” she says, her voice reverberating through you. “I want you t'come f'r me first.”

You groan, mewling. “Okay, okay,” you agree. “Mmphf! 's so good!”

Your body is trembling, your pleasure coiling in your womb and threatening to snap. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your nails digging into her scalp.

“Abby! Please, fuck!” you cry out. She can tell you're close, both by the hitch in your voice and the way your slick gushes out of you.

She nuzzles her face against your pussy, sending you whirling over the edge. You mewl, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Abby—Oh, God!”

And then your orgasm crashes over you, making your thighs shake, your thighs squeezing her head. She laps up your orgasm, drinking every last drop, enjoying your sweet sent and your taste.

As she pulls away from you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, you reach for her. You grab onto her shirt, making her crawl over you, and she cages your body beneath hers.

Her mouth finds your lips with ease, sneaking her tongue between them, allowing you to taste yourself. You wrap your hands around her neck, threading your fingers into her hair.

She pulls away from the kiss to push her pants and boxers down, low enough for the silicone cock to spring free. You spread your legs wider, eager, and she smiles before caging you under her once more.

She guides the dildo between your folds, teasing your entrance for a moment before sliding into you. You gasp, wrapping your legs around her waist and forcing her deeper until her hips meet yours.

“Fuck,” Abby hisses out as you buck your hips up, causing the strap on to rub against her swollen clit.

“Abs, please,” you beg, grating your hips in search of more friction. “Please.”

Abby has had something on her mind for a while now. Something she wants to propose to you but is a little shy to admit. Yet, she takes her chance now, and asks, “You think you can call me something else, love? Give me a pretty nickname when I fuck you?”

Your eyes meet hers, the blue darkened by her lust, pupils blown wide. “Okay,” you breathe, trembling.

“Call me Mommy, hm? Let's see how that sounds from your pretty lips.”

You're surprised at first, your eyes wide before they quickly glow with delight, excitement coursing through you. Your pussy clenches around the dildo, your heart racing.

“Mommy,” you say softly. “Mommy, fuck me. Please.”

Abby groans, heat rushing to her core at your words. “Fuck, baby. Such a good girl, goddamn.”

“I missed you,” you admit, dizzy with pleasure, drunk on the feel of Abby's body on top of yours. “I always miss you when you leave.”

She places a soft kiss on your forehead as she begins thrusting into you, making you gasp. “I miss you, too,” she tells you. “All the time. I wish I could take you to patrol with me, but it's dangerous work. I'd rather you stay here, safe.”

You mewl, nails digging into her back. “You could stay here with me,” you suggest, voice wavering as the pleasure runs through your veins, making you tremble. “We could be together all day.”

Abby smiles softly. “You know I can't, honey. It's my job,” she says, gasping softly as the strap on adds more pressure against her clit.

“I know,” you reply. “I know. I just need you so much.”

She presses a kiss against your mouth, feeling your gummy walls tighten around the strap on. You mewl, eyes rolling back into your head, and Abby swallows the sound.

“I need you too, love,” she tells you. “I always need you.”

Her hips slam against yours, the bed squeaking beneath you, the headboard crashing into the wall.

“Mommy!” you cry, trying to pull her closer. “Please. Please.”

“Yeah, I'll make you come, baby,” she promises, breathless from the pleasure. “Don't you worry about that.”

You nod, shaking, the pleasure crawling through your veins and igniting your skin. “Fuck! Fuck! Mommy, 'm so close!”

She increases her pace, bruising your cervix, the dildo dragging against your g-spot. “Come on, my angel. I know you can do it,” she encourages. “Come on my cock, yeah? Be a good girl f'r me, baby.”

She licks your jaw, lowering her mouth to your neck. She bites on the delicate skin of your throat, her hips bruising yours, and she can feel how you scratch her back through her shirt.

Your cunt clenches around the strap on, making it harder for her to thrust in and out of you, and then you're hurling over the edge. You gasp and moan, body trembling uncontrollably, your pussy dripping onto the bed.

“Atta girl,” Abby says, burying her face in your shoulder as she feels her own orgasm nearing. Her clit aches beneath the rubs of the strap on, begging for release. She grinds her hips onto yours, making you mewl, and she's getting herself off at the same time.

When you buck your hips up, meeting hers, it drives her to a frenzy and pushes her over the edge.

“Fuck! Goddamn,” she moans, biting your shoulder through the thin material of the t-shirt you're wearing as she comes, her broad figure trembling. She rests the weight of her body on you as she tries to catch her breath. She places her head on your chest, hearing your racing heart, and you run your fingers through her tangled hair, caressing her head gently.

“I love you,” you tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So much, Abby.”

“I love you,” she replies, kissing your neck. “You're everything to me, angel. What would I do without you?”

You smile. “Come back to a messy house?” you joke.

She shakes her head, pushing herself up so she's not crushing you under her weight, and she kisses your lips. “You know that's not what I mean,” she says, the words falling right against your mouth. “Without you, I'd be empty, love. All alone, without anyone to understand me, without anyone to love me.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, giving her mouth a peck. “I'll always be with you, Abs. I'll always love you. You know there's no one else out there that can even come close to comparing to you. You're it for me, Abby.”

She kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, and then your lips. It's a soft, slow kiss, gentle and loving. It makes you happy, a bubbly sensation bursting in your chest.

“How come you're home early?” you question as she pulls away to press a trail of open mouthed, wet kisses down your neck.

“I wanted to be with you,” she says. “I felt guilty this morning when I left. I haven't spent as much time with you lately, with the Fireflies needing more people to patrol, and me too willing to help. I-I haven't given you the time or attention you deserve, and I'm sorry for that.”

You kiss her again, softly. “You're here now, Abs. That's all that matters.”

She pulls out of you and you're left sore, aching in the best way, and then Abby's cleaning you.

She helps you into a pair of new panties and shorts, and then you make your way to the kitchen. As you cook, Abby helps you, chopping vegetables, finding the seasoning, setting the table—anything she can.

You stand in front of the stove, stirring the food, and Abby hugs you from behind, placing her head on your shoulder, humming in your ear.

She raises the volume of the radio and grabs your hand, pulling you toward her, and she leads you around the kitchen, dancing. You laugh, delighted, having missed her so much. This past week she's been particularly busy, leaving early and returning late, with barely any time to spend together.

Abby watches the joy on your face and her heart melts, feeling so fucking lucky. She makes you this happy, and that just makes her dizzy with awe.

How did she get you to love her?

You have lunch, and then you cuddle on the bed and Abby tells you all about her day and she just releases all the stress she has pent up. You two take a small nap, with you in her arms and one of her legs around you, and wake up a while later.

You make popcorn, Abby chooses a movie, and then you pretend to watch it while mostly talking to each other.

It gets late quick and you grow tired. Abby pulls you to her, allowing you to rest your head on her chest, and you're quick to fall asleep. Abby kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and she promises herself that she will spend more time with you. Nothing matters if she's not with you.

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@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

Should I tag you in works about other fandoms as well??? Please tell me so I don't tag you in works that aren't your type!

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Blog masterlist

#inbox <3 #abby anderson #tlou fanfiction #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby tlou #i love her so bad #omgshessobeautiful #the brainrot is terminal

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chaotic-nick · 4 months

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⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆enough's enough: connie springer x reader

yesterday's poll was a tie between actor au yuuji and an aot situationship fic (brainrotting so hard for both au's) so here's a Connie fic!

plot: where you're really done with Connie

wc: 899 - no warnings

additional stuff: Sasha calls reader a 'bitch', writing's extremely rusty T-T, media au mention of Miche

here's more situationship connie, and more by @happybird16

“Thank you, baby.”

She read last night’s text from Connie. And in every word she read in all the manuscripts given to her, all of them seemed the same. Coffee shop menus and online restaurant menus were all a ‘Thank you’ or ’baby’. It was all her brain wanted her to see now.

Then she looked at the actors in the documentary they were shooting. No. Even her brain didn’t allow her to see anything beyond Connie’s honey eyes and the girl’s tired smile. Then to the commercial boards with endorsements— no, it became a combination of both.

Connie was stupid. That she knew. His cruel mind was smart enough to accidentally send her the message and the picture— still, a stupid move. Maybe she was the first of the many people he slept around with (it was her delusion trying to comfort her), she was the first in his contacts that he didn’t think twice to *accidentally* send it to another person.

Did he leave the girl wondering about when he’ll commit to her, too? Sasha’s hand found the top of (Y/n’)s, knees bent to look at her eyes, “Hey,” her mouth moved. Spouting out sentences about the shoot beginning in fifteen mionutes, the people loving her script, and something with the actor’s catering services.

Somehow, Jean, the production assistant, joined them. “You look pale.”

"Stayed up late,” pointing to her rolled up copy of the script, “for this.”

“Yay, third coverage.” Yawned Sasha.

Third shoot or coverage of whatever the hell put her in the hills between Shiganshina and Ragako, Connie was quick to replace her. How disposable am I?

Following Sasha and Jean in admiring the set, (Y/n) crossed her arms to keep herself standing. Those lights. It added more pain to her head— even brought a watery screen to her eyes, painting a blurry picture of Connie and that girl.

An actor came in, excitedly yelling about how pretty the ‘new blood’ made the set. Her voice, shrill. Words coming out one after another, though all muffled. As if teasing (Y/n)’s crying heart,

“Thank you, baby”

Words that were enough to push her off balance.

“(Y/n)!”

To hell with looking like he threw whatever he clean clothes he found— it was true. As if he looked any better, Reiner wasn’t shy to point out how, “you look like the definition of a scumbag,” when Connie opened the car door.

With a roll of his eyes, one fist clenching his annoyance, and the other careful not to crush the brownies, “Just drive, will you?”

Worry occupied the empty space in his head, only her name echoed in the space between his ears. She’s not the one to pass out so easily. Nor the one to get sick and still wake up to work. Right? Unless Sasha and Jean caught whiff of their ‘arrangement’ decided to exaggerate a minor accident on set.

Though Jean’s picture of her in the groupchat wasn’t an exaggeration. “Passed out, hospital.” It only read.

Briefly passing by the hospital’s many windows, he agreed with Reiner when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Black sweatpants and a jacket he now zipped up to look more presentable.

Of course her brownie’s from Miche’s bakery.

Carefully opening the curtain, he poked his head in to see Jean and Sasha leaning against each other in deep sleep. A pile of their bags pushed to the corner. “(Y/n)!” He called to her, seeing that her eyes adjusted to the light.

Nearly crying from weakness, (Y/n)’s face hardened in anger when she found him already standing at the foot of her bed. It could never be with Connie, he was still in bed with his girl, it couldn’t be himi just standing by her bedside now.

“Hey, what . . . happened?” He even asked in a careful tone that made her stomach churn in anger. “Sasha told me you passed out. Actually, everyone’s worried about you.”

“Just . . .” moving away from the hand that would’ve played with her hair now, “go home, Connie”

He heard her clear. “Hmm?”

“Go home.” No, she must be saying that because of how sick she felt.

His finger tried to lift her chin up, “I was worried, so I came—”

“As if it’ll make me better.”

“Haven’t made you—”

“So, go home, Connie.”

His lips tugged up to almost a smirk, her knew how she joked around. “Sure?”

Like he wanted, (Y/n) lifted her gaze up to him. Showing his playful smile her hardened jaw, “Connie, I don’t like you.”

“Wha . . .”

“Enough’s enough.”

“H-hey, did I do . . .something?”

“I don’t wanna do anything with you. Just . . . please,” she sighed, “leave me alone.”

Behind him, Sasha still deep in sleep mumbled, “Dude— man, she’s not really joking around. Bitch’s sick. Go.”

“Yeah . . .” agreed Jean, stretching his legs. “She’s got a fever, you don’t wanna get that.”

“Your brownies are . . .” holding her hardened stare in his confused eyes, Connie slowly backed away. “Rest well alright?”

Outside, waiting for Reiner, Connie’s mind lost in the whathe had said, pulled his phone out. Thumb rapidly checking all of the messaging apps they talked in.

When, “Fuck”.

#nick writes fics #connie springer x y/n #connie springer x reader #aot x reader #aot x y/n

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mabzgonmad · 29 days

Text

Agent Phoenix head canons (real not fake but cringe)

Hi tumblr. This is my first text post don’t make fun of my poor outlining 💔

ok so i feel i should section this i have a lot to say

hopefully this is entertaining..btw a lot of this is based on my own personal actions when playing as the Phoenix also I’m not completely set on a lot of these

Sections:

- kinesium and communication

-communication generally

-sexuality / gender

-appearance

-relationships (still not 100% on these)

Kinesium and Communication

We should note that Phoenix (gonna call him AP from now on for simplicity sake) is completely mute minus a few noises such as coughing or gasping.

Also note that Roxana Prism doesn’t even know the full power that kinesium can have when harnessed by a person such as AP. (We know this from her remark of shock at the very end of IEYTD 3)

The agency being full of people with kinesium in there head giving them the ability to use telekinesis means all of them are connected in a way. AP is able to use the connection of all the kinesium to communicate telepathically with anyone in the agency. The first time they did this is was to The Handler on one of their early missions. They had no idea they could do it and actually they were calling handler a bad name. Once the handler just heard a voice in his head replying to what he said to AP he thought he was going crazy. AP didnt know how they did it and they eventually sat down with handler and they figured it out. AP eventually was able to regularly reply to the handler during missions and communicate with more ease to fellow agency members.

Outside of people with kinesium in their brains, AP uses sign language. Though they will only do this if they absolutely need to talk to someone outside of the agency. When it comes to Zor members they will refuse to reply to them at all. They will make rude hand gestures or faces in response, no coherent replies to anyone.

This is with exception to Dr.Prism. They regularly tried to reason with or converse with her specifically in Mission KBOOM. Dr.Prism doesn’t have kinesium in her head (i think?) so they used sign language to talk to her. She would know ASL because i think id be agency policy for the sake of deaf agents and AP.

Example of AP using sign to communicate. (I think here, they didnt want handler to know their reply but wanted to reply… by thinking of responding to handler he accidentally let him know what they said.. lol)

Sexuality and Gender

I don’t think AP would care enough to consider labeling their own gender or sexual orientation.

But they know they don’t identify with any gender and are gender less but do not mind being called “he”

So in simple terms they use They/He pronouns

As for sexuality, they like someone romantically once in a blue moon, and even then they arent very expressive about it. They knows from his like maybe 3 crushes in their life, they like whatever and whoever as long as they fit his type (No clue what his type is!! Probably;y more masculine people low key. Men kisser.)

Appearance

They look like this to me 😍

Gorgeous ain’t he?

Relationships

Bullet points for here bc im getting lazy

-Handler

they’re bestie baes! Honestly best buds! They’d kill for each other !

-John Juniper

homosexual.

-Fabricator

any conversation between them would be full of “KYS” “NO YOU KYS!!”

-Dr.Prism

enemies to besties basically

-Dr Zor

violent and evil dynamic happening here. Nothing but hatred between these two.

I care not for thinking about anymore or any other characters!

OK TY FOR READING THIS IF YOU READ IT ALL SORRY THE IEYTD BRAINROT IS REAL LOVE YOU

#agent phoenix ieytd #ieytd #art #ieytd fanart #ieytd 3 #ieytd2 #i expect you to die #ieytd fandom #ieytd hc #headcanon #send help #im normal about this

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spacexseven · 1 year

Note

yaaaay tuna time tuna time. ok so the manga is I Love Amy and its about a yandere girl making friends with the lesbian mc to get closer to her male crush but finds herself really enjoying spending time with her. very good stuff highly recommend. anyway I will be scalping this whole plot for my brainrot! as I'm basing this off a wlw manga please read yan and darling as being the same gender (ex: dazai with a male darling, higuchi with a female darling) thank u.

so, following the aforementioned plot, darling actually starts out as yans TARGET instead of yans crush, accidentally getting on their radar by being seen talking to yans current obsession one too many times during routine reconnaissance (stalking). obviously they need to get rid of them! theyre getting in the way! crush shouldn't ever talk to anyone else but them!!!!

when local freak loner weirdo yan suddenly asks if you want to hang out with them, alone, it occurs to you that you should be a little more cautious- but, truth be told, you've had a crush on them for a while... and you know its probably impossible that they swing your way, but couldn't hurt to give it a shot, right?

with this in mind (and lowkey kinda entranced by how pretty they are up close), you agree.

lucky for you theyre perceptive enough to sniff out that ur a fruit and thus a complete non-threat, so you live another day! and, to their surprise, they find themselves kind of enjoying hanging out with you.

yadda yadda yadda, the two of you strike a deal to help them get in good with their crush, theyve had pretty bad luck with this so far, but they seem to like YOU, so you can get them some one-on-one time! you're pretty bummed you were right about the person you like not being interested, but hey! theyre still your friend! as long as they can be happy, you’ll be happy for them! on their end, theyre just using you (or so they think). sure, you’re ok to hang out with or whatever, but your companionship doesnt mean anything compared to their crush. once they get what they want, youre pretty much donezo.

i wont go on for too much longer about this here but im sure you get the idea, over spending time with them as friends and dedicating so much of your time to trying to help them find their happiness, yan starts turning their attention on YOU instead. they find themself getting irritated when they catch you talking to other boys/girls, what did you suddenly get a s/o or something? are you gonna stop hanging out with them? you cant DO that youre their ONLY friend! or they’ll surprise themself by desperately wanting to pass up spending time with crush to go stay with you instead. or getting REALLY REALLY mad when they see people being rude to you when they used to not care. little things like that. i feel like this concept could be really good for soft yan stuff but you COULD make it darker if you wanna.

characters i think would work with this: bsd - dazai (specifically pm dazai cuz hes a freak with no social skills), akutagawa, poe, ranpo, sigma, higuchi, gin, lucy. genshin - childe, scaramouche, albedo, cyno, eula, ei (i feel a modern au would work best for ei here), rosaria, shenhe

- 🩹

something about the holidays has fried my brain but i cant let your asks go unanswered any longer !!!!! p.s i love amy is just wonderful thank you for the rec ^^ im just gonna go over this with childe because you deserve genshin content from me :< spoilers for childe's real name (tho i think everyone knows it by now lol) unedited!

context: X is the person ajax likes (as you can tell i am very good at coming up with names :>) some things here are taken from i love amy so give it a read !! it's totally worth it i promise~

at the time, you couldn't come up with a single reason why ajax had approached you all those days ago, accompanied only by a menacing look. in fact, you could still recall how the malice in his eyes deepened once he caught sight of you stumbling your way over in his direction.

you had heard the rumors about him (like everyone else had), and while you didn't want to judge someone because of what others had to say, you couldn't deny the fear that consumed you when he stared at you with thinly veiled distaste—right after interrogating you about your relationship with the person you had just been conversing with. it occurred to you far too late that ajax had witnessed the conversation between you and X, and now you were about to be at the receiving end of the terrors you had only heard of in passing.

your brain went into overdrive thinking of an answer. childhood friends? what if he got jealous that you spent so much time with X, time he couldn't have? but if you lied about not knowing X, he'd come after you anyway if he found out the truth, right? so you tried to come up with a lukewarm answer, something to show that you weren't trying to meddle with his…potential relationship. whether you said the two of you were partners for a project, neighbors or family friends, whatever it was, it worked in convincing him that you weren't interested.

but it worked too well, as you soon came to realize, after noticing how ajax was attached to you constantly. at your response, he had lit up and quickly pulled you closer, declaring you would help him by gathering information and helping him plan for the perfect date (and of course, there was not a single moment of consideration for your say in the matter)

even though you insisted over and over again that you'd be no help, with no experience in dating or flirting with anyone, let alone someone as popular as X, and claiming you weren't close enough with them to ask such detailed questions, ajax was far from bothered. perhaps, in his eyes, you were the perfect sidekick—obedient enough to drag around like a sulking pet, but not so compliant that you weren't of some use, at the very least for entertainment. and maybe, just maybe, because he was starting to feel a little lonely.

what he didn't know at the time was that you, despite all the warnings and whispers, had a crush on him. you reasoned with yourself that most people would fall for him, if not for his fixation with X. and although you knew he was 100% infatuated with someone else, you had foolishly thought it wouldn't be the worst idea to be his friend. you had hoped that hanging out with him and being faced with the reality that he would never look twice at you would work as a bitter yet effective remedy to the flustered racing of your heart and the fluttering sensation that seized you.

surprisingly, ajax made for decent company, disregarding the pain of unrequited affection. all your time together was mostly spent talking about X, which you never complained about, but you also learned a little about him, like the fact that he had younger siblings and that he participated in a lot of archery competitions. it occurred to you for a moment, that given his track record, ajax being so well-versed with a weapon probably wouldn't end well, but you shut down that thought almost immediately. he may talk about wanting X all for himself and may have some concerning fantasies, but even he wouldn't go to such lengths, right?

the more time you spent with him, however, the fewer opportunities you actually had to talk to X. still, despite how little use he had for you, ajax still kept you by his side. maybe it was, in his eyes, a good thing that you were staying away from X. some part of you itched to tell him that you wouldn't betray him like that...not like it mattered to him. you knew he was only using you, either as an information source or a test subject, and even if it hurt to know he'd never care about you like he did X, you never once considered distancing yourself from him

you liked to think that he liked your company too, at least as an acquaintance. after all, since that first encounter, he hadn't threatened to snap your arm if you didn't tell him everything you were talking to X about. maybe that time he dragged you away mid-conversation with your friend should have been alarming, or maybe that other time when you woke up tied to a chair in his basement ("don't worry," he had brushed off your concerned look, "i only did this because you kept saying you were too busy to come over. anyways…") should have sent you running, but you justified it to yourself as his odd way of watching out for you.

or more likely, the warning signs just flew over your head because you couldn't imagine that he would be as creepy as the rumors said. you did idolize him to an extent that you tried to justify all his strange habits. it didn't matter much, anyway, since you were well aware this arrangement was temporary—you were only serving as replacement company until he finally got with X, and then your presence in his life would instantly be shut out.

because you were under the impression that it was all temporary, you didn't mind, even when he started overstepping into your personal matters. more than once you had to cancel meet-ups with friends in favor of spending time with him, and the few times you did manage to be away from him, ajax would interrogate you about every detail of your day without him, and at the very end would demand you tell him if you enjoyed being away from him, scowling until you placated him.

and then, the 'practice dates' started feeling a little too real. with him insisting on feeding you spoonfuls of dessert and latching onto your hand uncomfortably tight. but honestly, you couldn't complain, even if you knew something was wrong. going out with X didn't seem as much of a priority as it was a way to convince you that he desperately needed your help in 'practicing'.

all this while, you were under the impression your role was simply to be a good friend to ajax. naturally, when you had an opportunity to talk to X again after such a long time, you jumped to take it. what you didn't expect was for ajax to come up behind you, gently moving you aside to instead tower over X, glaring at the person he'd been pining over so desperately. the words that left him next were similar to the ones you heard all those months ago, except, these were the last words you expected him to say.

"you," he spat out, "what the hell were you talking to [name] about?"

bonus because i have too many thoughts about this :>

you getting an s/o. ajax is upset for many reasons. a) you never told him that you liked someone b) were you really going on weekly dates with your new partner?? you never even hung out with him that consistently! what, were you throwing away your friend just for this new guy? and c) how could you leave him behind like this?! suddenly, your new s/o is bombarded with the sensation that someone was constantly glaring at them, and then at every corner, ajax is standing there...just...watching. maybe he was just shy?

you manage to convince X to give him one chance. one date, so he can try to win them over. what you don't expect is for ajax to try stalling. he comes up with reasons for more practice dates, asks you for more 'tips', and if he absolutely has to go, he doesn't do anything that he was supposed to. the date is a fail, despite all the practicing he did. to you, he claims it was the nerves that got to him. come on, comrade! you gotta help him practice more now!

#yandere tartaglia #ask 🐟#anon 🐟#dazai 🩹 🐟#genshin 🐟#drabble 🐟#tartaglia 🐟#yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #i wanted to try with the other characters #but i have this thing where i must read all the lore etc about a character to write about them #and im not too familiar with most of the genshin characters And i hvae still yet to meet scara lol

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cat-of-starlight · 11 months

Text

Ok-

In the wake of the new Limbus Brainrot because Canto 4 ended, I've been seeing a certain... Dante related theory... making the rounds again and I wanted to post my thoughts about it.

Putting it under the cut for length reasons- No specific spoilers?, I just don't wanna blast people with the text wall lmao

I gotta say, I really hate the Dante = Ayin theory. Desperately.

Not any hate to the people theorizing- not like that, I just already have a deep hatred of [x person is actually y person]/Reincarnation/etc. theories.

Why, you may ask? Well, in the case of this theory specifically, I have three main reasons.

1 - The vibes of the two characters themselves

Important note, I actually like both characters. I know some people have A Lot to say about Ayin, and honestly so do I (Probably different things but yea), but I generally don't mind him as much as some other people seem to.

I also love Dante.

And Specifically, I'll say- I like them both for Incredibly Different Reasons. Different enough reasons that I feel that mixing the two would ruin them both. I mean sure, Dante CLEARLY has something going on in the memories they can't yet remember, but honestly? Ayin already had his arc. HAD his chance in the spotlight- a whole game of it. I wouldn't mind a cameo, or reason for him to be important in some way, but I'd be crushed if all the reasons I've come to love Dante were smothered by "oops all Ayin"

I feel like it would make it almost... Pointless? "Oh yea this character may have had their whole character arc, but surprise! They aren't REALLY their own person and are instead this dude who already had his character arc!"

2 - They/Them Dante Supremacy™

Now, considering that the meme They/Them Dante post that I made blew up and is now my most popular post on my blog, I think its safe to say where I stand on the Dante's Pronouns part of everything-

I think it would be kind of... dismissive of that to make "Oh yea they were they/them to hide their identity" Because uhhh. Their identity is already hidden. We can't see their face. Literally anyone could have their head taken, a clock replaced, and that outfit slapped on and it generally wouldn't matter-

I feel like it kind of would send the message of "They can only count as they/them because their everything is hidden and we can't tell anyway" which??? No??? Even once Dante's actual head gets revealed, if people start switching calling them to whatever gender they look the most like and the game still uses they/them I'm Going To Bite People.

3 - ??

The least plot relevant, and the most just vibe based is- I just kinda feel like this type of reveal in writing often kinda feels like a cop out? I mean, I'm sure there's probably a well done version of one of these, but I sure as hell haven't found it yet-

I mean, in a BIG city with TONS of characters, there is SO MUCH plot that a character can have, without needing to jump back to a character that they already have. Sure- Project Moon Protags often have a Big Reveal, and its often Shocking- but does it really need to be a rehashed reveal from the first game? "boo he's old news get new material" ya know?

Anyway yea. I don't like the theory- Never have from the first time I saw a post about it.

If you like it, feel free to keep on with it- I don't mean this to say "If you theorize this, you suck" or anything, I just keep seeing it, and felt the desire to put my own two cents in~

But yea, keep on with it if you like it? Maybe tag it something specific and I'll just block the tag lmao

#It just doesn't vibe with me idk #They will always be separate in my head #Again I just don't like that genre of theories ANYWAY but yea #limbus company #dante limbus company #dante lcb #lcb

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oniikabuto · 1 year

Text

general hcs ☆ south park

-- sfw --

characters: the main 4

a/n: it's literally midnight. i need to be up at 5am tomorrow. i'm writing about south park on tumblr.

synopsis: just headcanons of sp kids! their little quirks and habits and stuff

oh also aged up

...

— ⛧ e. cartman

has all of the really good snacks in his pantry

had a phase where he really wanted to be a garbage truck driver as a kid

listens to ariana grande and lady gaga

sings his heart out in the shower

refuses to admit it if you ever overheard him

weirdly sharp canines it makes him look like an evil little rodent

allergic to picking up after himself. there's literally a trail of shoes all the way up to his bedroom

never takes stuff out of his pockets before his mom washes his clothes but then gets pissed when his earbuds and stuff go through the wash

smells like baby soap

bites his pencils and they look horrendous

one time kenny asked to borrow a pencil and he threw it back almost immediately after feeling the bumpy chewed-up wood

thinks that menstrual products shouldn't be free because "can't they just hold it in??"

kyle will fight him about it

loves chocolate milk to death

— ⛧ k. mccormick

gappy teeth

but it looks cute on him

likes cds even though he doesn't have a cd player

always packs his lunch in the morning and karen's

there's little holes on the insides of his pockets and he has a habit of sticking his fingers through them and wiggling them without realizing

which make the holes bigger

keeps a porn magazine in his school backpack and leafs through it on the bus or in the library as if he's casually reading the news

sex jokes just SLIP out. he doesn't even think before he makes a sex joke.

his backpack is a mess and he uses the little pockets to store trash and edible wrappers and crumbs

has a disposable somewhere that he hits in the middle of class

kyle gives him a disapproving look when he stumbles into class high as balls

street smart but doesn't know how to do long division

favorite food is chicken nuggets with ranch

loves ranch (i fucking love ranch fight me)

will let you paint his nails

probably listens to tiktok music like mitski and radiohead and shit

also the smiths

— ⛧ k. broflovski

4.0 gpa all the way until that one A- in pe. junior year that dropped it to a 3.9

cried about it and sulked for weeks

stan almost left him because he got so sick of it (rockin that 2.9)

"dude it's not that big of a deal"

"MY LIFE IS OVER STAN YOU DONT GET IT"

keeps really organized notes- not just for him, but for the sake of his friends who take shitty notes

he has freckles idc if they said he's a daywalker HE HAS FRECKLES.

has a 10-step hair care routine every night

spends longer in the bathroom doing his hair care thing than his mother

spends 30 minutes every day watching tv with ike no matter what

gets violently competetive over kahoot

listens to the cure and elliot smith

keeps a different notebook for each class

— ⛧ s. marsh

always has at least one earbud in

sometimes when there's a lot on his mind, he gets very easily distracted

will step in the shower with his socks still on by accident

has a little crush on kyle (sorry style brainrot....)

used to read a lot as a kid, not really much anymore

unconciously messes with little papers or napkins in his pcokets and tears them to bits

gets like no sleep ever because he can't ever get off his phone or whatever he's doing long enough to try and get some sleep

still gets nauseous whenever he's near someone he has a crush on

terrible at articulating himself through text

if you want to show him a video or post, you would have to show him irl because he won't see the tag.

smoked weed once and decided it was overrated, but will sometimes get high if kenny asks or something.

loves vanilla flavored things even though it's basic

constantly has random change and wads of cash in his backpack because he's too lazy to stuff his things back into his wallet

#south park #south park hcs #south park headcanon #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #kyle broflovski

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hideousvoid · 1 year

Note

Hiii, I'm in a severe octavinelle brainrot, and I wanted to request hcs for Azul with a fem!reader that falls at first sight for him in the third book (when he scams all the students and give his speech) and from then on is very vocal about it, I'm picturing this dialogue:

Reader: I still don't get what he did wrong, he's great, I like him

Ace: Great?! This guy's the reason why we all have anemones on our heads and have to work for free!

Reader: Nope, the reason why of all that it's that you're lazy and dumb and made a contract with the shadiest person on campus

Deuce: ...I thought you liked him?

Reader: the shadiness is part of his charm ~ ♡

And then maybe the twins tell him, or he was listening all along. It can be yandere or not, whatever you're in the mood for, sorry if it's too specific !!! Don't feel obligated to write it, thank you for reading this

Trapped at first sight

reader: gender neutral

warnings: stalking mentions, possessive behaviour, obsession, delusional yandere and etc.

author note: I don't do fem!readers so i changed it to gn, hopefully you aren't annoyed for it. Since the thirst for Octavinille I can recommend you to check my masterlist and read my works, have a nice day <3

・゜゜・┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

The first time you two made eye contact he felt a shiver run along his spine, but would you ever go on a date with him? The man that was once only a pathetic octopus? Same one that is tricking every student to make a contract only to his own good? Don't get him wrong, Azul loves his work but it's not morally correct and it's illegal in school. You two never talked before, the octoman is always busy and plus very shy when it's not about his work or school.

He became red when the eels revealed about your chats and "jokes" with your friends, so you were thinking of him and unfortunately knew of his contracts. Well it may slipped out of his mouth the words "let me know more about them", don't get too scared when you hear a little laugh or a pair of eyes on you. The dorm leader needs and must know your intentions, having you use or manipulate him is the last thing that will happen.

Hearing your soft words even though his actions warmed a place in his heart, just a little hug was enough for him but acting impulsively isn't wise so he just waited. Ace and Deuce weren't happy at all, why having a crush on someone like him? Many students could be better but you chose the only one that was giving problems. Still the worst was ahead of you and your friends, so much more to discover about the Octavinille's dorm leader.

So much shame filled him during his overblot, did anyone else than the twins see his merform? Did you lay your gaze on his octoform? His past, thoughts and more flying in the water, making Azul regret everything even the littlest thing. What were your thoughts on him now? After seeing his "disgusting" self and secrets, only a little hope that you wouldn't leave him was still present in his heart.

Once you went to visit him at the mostro lounge he almost had an heart attack, knowing that you forgave him and still needed his presence. Being straight forward and confessing how much you liked his personality, intelligence, hobbies but mostly his original form.. The second-year was going insane, how desperate were you for him? Or he was the worst one between the two? It wasn't important, he had enough courage to grab your arm and pull you to his favourite spot only to wrap his body around yours, feeling your warmth and hot breath on his skin. Finally he wasn't alone anymore, no more waiting and he could have been himself with someone who isn't the twins. Azul is going to be clingy as the octopus he is, so good luck and don't take any wrong steps or a punishment is ahead.

#twst #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #twst writing #gn reader #gender neutral mc #gender neutral reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #twst hcs #azul ashengrotto headcanons #yandere twisted wonderland #tw stalking mention #tw possessiveness #tw obsessive thoughts

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killerlookz · 2 years

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 | Edward Nashton x Gn!reader

description: (based off of this concept and this concept) Eddie's picking up shifts at the diner where he's quickly gained a favorite customer who comes in without fail, every saturday. when eddie though, is the one who fails to show up one saturday, his favorite customer realizes how much they enjoy his company, so they make an effort to make sure they'll never miss eddie again.

content: crushing!!! so much crushing!! eddie has a huge crush. no real established timeline (can be pre- riddler or riddler era eddie, whatever your heart desires!), lovesirck, nervous, stuttery eddie <33 (he's too cute) this fic is pretty much pure fluff! no real warnings to be given :)

word count: 4775

a/n: i have had THE biggest diner!eddie brainrot since i started discussing the concept a few days ago... him as a shy waitier with a favorite customer who he just adores :(( TOO CUTE... so here's a short little drabble while i work on some bigger fics.

Edward felt his chest tighten as he looked across the crowded diner, an increased foreboding feeling filled the space between his ribs. His stomach churned with a certain disquietude while laying his eyes on the sea of people surrounding him. Chattering customers sat about, making more noise than Eddie knew how to deal with, their incessant ranting and raving filling his brain to a capacity that he could not stand. He let out a shaky exhale, desperately preparing himself for the Saturday dinner rush that had already begun.

"Nashton!" An unnecessarily loud call came from directly behind him. He tried his best not to cringe at the sound, Edward could spot the voice of his shift supervisor anywhere, he loathed the sound of her thick New Jersey accent, and shrill, scratchy tone that could only be found in a woman who's been smoking for far too long. Her rough voice alone made Edward contemplate quitting his own nicotine addiction, not wanting to end up barely over 60 and already sounding like he's decaying. But with the anxiety caused by shifts like these, he found himself desperate for a cigarette. His long fingers lightly grazed the front pocket of his work pants, making sure the half-empty package of cigarettes still remained where he left it.

Edward turned around to face the voice, looking at his supervisor with a big, lost look plastered all over his face. He did little to hide the nameless dread that swarmed every cavity of his being, his low-hanging head, and god-awful posture all alluding to his negative state of mind.

"Ya regula' is here sweetheart, table 8, go make ya-self useful it's too busy for ya to just be standin' around like that."

At the announcement of his regular being there, Edward's entire demeanor changed. Suddenly he's standing up straight, and his eyes are wide and attentive, he'd hardly even noticed his supervisor's condescending tone. An involuntary smile crept on his face and his stomach began to do loops.

"Y-yes," Edward nodded, an overwhelming excitement threatened his stuttering voice.

Edward began to make his way over to table 8, the anxieties of the crowded diner slowly drifting away as he caught a glimpse of you from across the room. You were sitting there, with a strained look on your face as you hunched over a beat-up notebook. Edward worried you'd be able to feel his eyes burning into you from how intensely he was looking in your direction, but he couldn't help himself, he was infatuated with you.

Ever since he started picking up shifts at the diner on weekends to help out with rent he'd notice you come in every Saturday. You'd always come in on your own, sometimes with textbooks, or notebooks, maybe even a computer. Over the course of weeks spent serving you, he'd come to find out that sometimes you would come to the diner to study and as the two of you grew closer he'd even on occasion helped you out with your coursework. Usually on nights where it was late, and the diner had gone nearly empty, but you and he still remained, you'd let out a frustrated sigh, and Edward would ask to take a look at your work. Edward wasn't always the greatest in school- he was smart but too miserable to ever put in enough effort to apply himself properly. But you, you gave him the boost he needed and he was more than happy to put in as much work as necessary to show you his capabilities. That being said most of the time he did understand the work you were doing, and he'd sheepishly look around the diner, making sure no one else needed his help, and once he was in the clear he'd sit next to you and try not to stutter too hard while explaining whatever concept it was to you.

Those nights were Edward's favorite. You always looked so cute with that exasperated look on your face, asking Edward for help. Edward sort of liked the feeling of someone needing his help. Even if it was just for some schoolwork.

But, regardless of whether you were studying or not, every Saturday night without fail, you'd come in completely on your own. Edward always wondered what someone like you would be doing all on your own at a cheap diner on a Saturday evening, after all, Saturdays were for having fun, right? He'd wonder if you were lonely like he was, or if you just liked to take time to yourself. Maybe spending your night surrounded by rude, rowdy strangers was your idea of a fun Saturday night.

He wondered a lot about you actually, even outside of his Saturday shifts. He thought about you often, he couldn't help himself. Your weekly appearances made the job worthwhile, your pretty smile and sweet demeanor were Edward's escape from the usual verbal abuse and beratement he suffered at the hands of most of the customers while on the job. You treated Edward like he was real, like he was a person, your quick waiter-to-patron exchanges were warmer than any of the treatment he'd ever gotten in his life thus far.

So, when Edward had fallen ill last weekend after a co-worker at his day job had come into work with a nasty cold he was absolutely devastated he'd miss his weekly encounter with you. While Edward sat home, sick, fever overcoming his body, he continued to wonder. He wondered if you even noticed that he was missing, or if you were maybe even glad he wouldn't be bothering you tonight. He worried maybe you'd like your server tonight more than you liked him, maybe you'd gotten one of his more confident, more "conventionally attractive" co-workers as your server and maybe the two of you really hit it off.

The worries plagued his aching head until a calmer, more appealing part of his consciousness took over, one that dreamed up a fantasy of you sitting alone at a booth by the window, completely on your own, unhappy with tonight's waiter, missing him. The thought of you even just recognizing Edward's absence put a smile on his face. Of course, it also made him feel a little guilty, he didn't want you to be unhappy, only, unhappy regarding the fact you weren't with him.

But now, Edward was back, and in good health once again. He wiped his clammy palms against the thick fabric of his pants. His thighs tremble under the firm touch of his hands. Something catches your attention and you suddenly drop the pencil in your hand and look up from your notebook. Your head turns to the side and all of a sudden you and Edward are making eye contact, Edward feels his body go stiff as a large smile spreads across your face.

"Eddie!" You exclaim the moment he gets within a few feet of your table. Edward feels his heart begin to beat faster as the sound of your voice. He can't help but melt every time you call him Eddie, you were the only person who'd ever called him that.

"H-hi y/n," He smiles, approaching the small table.

"I missed you last week Eddie," You lean forward against the table, resting your chin in your hand. You noticed. Edward felt his breath get caught in his throat and he had to try to think really hard for a moment about how to remember to breathe. The way you looked up at him had him in a daze, the way the soft diner light's reflected off your eyes, and how this lighting perfectly flattered your skin. Edward had never in his life gazed at something so beautiful.

"Oh-oh yeah, someone at my other job got me sick so I couldn't come in."

"Aww, my poor Eddie." You whine, giving Edward an overexaggerated pout, looking up at him with big, sad, puppy-dog eyes. Edward's head begins to go a little fuzzy, who's Eddie? YOUR poor Eddie? Edward worries he may pass out, but the thought of how embarrassing it would be to faint right there in front of you is enough to keep his consciousness half-working. "You're feeling better now though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah- i-it was just a cold."

"Good," You smile, "I'm glad, it kind of sucked without you here, I was looking forward to seeing you and all- I even brought this really hard crossword puzzle I found in the newspaper for us to do together." A crossword puzzle? Together? Edward can't believe his ears. He's sure he looks absolutely insane right now, eyes blown wide, and his usually pale cheeks a deep, rosy pink.

"Did you um- finish it yourself?"

"No," You shake your head, "It's still on my coffee table." You let out a small, soft chuckle at the end of your sentence, and Edward swears he's fallen in love the instant the sound of your stifled laugh hits his ears. It's only been two weeks since he last saw you but god did he miss your voice.

"Well, if you bring it next time I'll do it with you." Edward nods before once again wiping his palms against his thighs. His hands tremble slightly as he tries to relieve them of some of the moisture they've accumulated from his nerves. It doesn't work. Edward's eyes quickly dart from you, to the notebook that's open in front of you, "What are you studying today?"

"I was really hoping you'd ask" You pick your head up from your hand, 'Remember how I was telling you how I was taking that forensics class?"

"Mhm." Edward rocks forward slightly.

"We're studying the Zodiac Killer right now, and as a challenge, my professor gave us the 408-cipher to try and solve for extra credit, and, god, this shit is hard." You let out an exasperated sigh.

Edward's face lights up upon hearing this news, excited that he now has the opportunity to help you out with something he knows he's good at.

"Do you want me to take a look at it when I get my break?" Edward asks, trying his best to not talk too loud or too forcefully out of pure eagerness.

"Would you please, Eddie?" And there you go again, looking up at Edward with those soft, sweet eyes, and he's weak in the knees now.

"Of course," He nods eagerly. Just then he's startled by the feeling of someone's hand on his shoulder. His body flinches slightly, caught off guard by the sudden sensation.

"Hey- hurry it up Nashton, you've got other customers waiting." Edward turns to see one of his fellow waiters standing behind him. Edward's jaw clenches tight in frustration at both being touched and being interrupted. Edward stares the man down, a long string of expletives brew in his vocal cords and he bites down on his tongue to stop himself from saying something that would get him fired or even worse make you upset. His teeth are puncturing his tongue so hard that a slight metallic taste seeps into his taste buds.

"Sorry." Edward barely mumbles out through gritted teeth. Who does he think he is, interrupting such a moment? Edward quickly turns back to face you, your brows furrowed slightly at the waiter who'd just reprimanded him. "Oh-uh I should probably take your order. The usual?"

"Yes please," Your expression quickly softens to a smile as the other waiter leaves your presence. You hand Edward back the menu the hostess had placed at your table, "You know me so well."

"I'll get that to you as fast as I can," Edward says, taking the menu back from you, rocking forward back and forth slightly on the balls of his feet.

"No rush Eddie." You assure.

It had been nearly two hours since Edward had cleared the dishes from your table, and you still sat there, in that booth, nose down in your notebook. Edward stared at you from across the diner, admiring your every move, he felt a little creepy but he just could not take his eyes off of you. A faint smile grazed upon his small pink lips as your brows knitted together and you let out what seemed to look like a sigh.

The diner had cleared out substantially as the late-night dinner rush faded into the early hours of the morning.

"You can take ya' 30 now Nashton," his supervisor said, pushing past his shoulder with a mostly empty coffee pot in hand. He nodded in response, despite no longer being within the woman's line of sight.

Edward makes his way over to the dessert case that sits right at the front of the diner. He slides open the case and takes out a slice of pumpkin pie that sits on one of the shelves, before heading to your table. Edward places the glass plate down and it rattles against the plastic tabletop, before taking his place on the seat opposite you with no warning. Your head popped up from your notebook immediately as you heard the sound of someone in front of you.

"Edward!" You said with a small gasp, "You startled me."

"Oh- I'm sorry." Edward frowns, his cheeks flush, hoping he hasn't upset you too greatly.

"It's no bother," You shake your head, "Come sit next to me," you scoot yourself over in the booth and pat the cheap pleather next to you.

Edward is quick to get up from his spot- anxiously taking the opportunity to get at least a little bit closer to you.

"Is this for me?" You smile, pointing at the slice of pumpkin pie that sits in front of you.

"Yeah, it's on me."

"You're too sweet to me Eddie," You say grabbing the plate and bringing it towards you. "You want to share?"

"No, it's okay, only if you don't finish it." He shakes his head and puts up his hands, motioning that you can keep the pie to yourself.

"Okay," you pause, "Should we get started?"

"Mhm."

"See? You got it." Edward said handing you back your pencil. "And this shape here... this would also be..." His voice trailed off as he extended a long finger to point at a square-like shape on the cipher.

"L...?" You asked, looking over to Edward for reassurance.

"Exactly! See? It's easy." his voice full of nothing but adoration and praise.

"Easy to you Eddie, you're like... a genius." You giggle. Edward's cheeks begin to turn a soft shade of red in response to your compliment.

"Oh," He sighs and shakes his head, "Not a genius, look, you did most of the work."

"With your help Eddie."

Edward's entire body gets hot and he can feel your eyes on him, he can't think of anything to say, no words will come out. You sound so kind, so appreciative, it has Edward in a trance. He's almost glad that his words are stuck in his throat, worrying that if somehow, someway they were able to climb their way out of his mouth he'll say something dumb. In a weak attempt to escape your unrelenting gaze Edward glances downwards and while doing so gets a quick look at the watch that wraps around his wrist. The ticking minute and second hands instill dread within him as he looks down at their surface.

"Shit." He sighs, "My break ended 5 minutes ago."

You frown, "Well, I'm not leaving until I finish this cipher, so, I'll probably still be here when you get off."

"Alright," Edward looks back up and pushes his glasses back up his nose, glancing back up at you he notices a sudden change in your face, your brows hang lower and your mouth points downwards. He can't quite explain the way your look makes him feel but he knows its not good. Edward looks around, noticing the lingering customers that are still scattered about. It's not that many people, he sighs "I- I'll be around a few more times." He sets his hands on the table and nods reassuringly.

"Okay," You respond in a hushed voice, barely above a whisper. Edward usually loves to hear your voice, but not now, you sound dejected, disappointment radiates off those two little syllables and he's well aware he's the one who caused it. Edward tilts his head as he looks at you, the corners of his mouth involuntarily falling just as yours had done seconds prior.

"You've got this," he barely lifts his finger to point towards your open notebook, he gives you a wholehearted smile, cheering you on in an attempt to hopefully lift that frown off your face.

"Thanks, Eddie." Your lips perk up slightly in a small smile, and Edward is relieved slightly that he is able to make at least a tiny change to your disappointed appearance.

He wants to stay sat down, helping you with the rest of the cipher, praising you every single time you get something right. He wants nothing more than to sit next to you for the rest of the night, and he contemplates just saying fuck it and doing just that. But the rational part of Edward's brain knows he can't risk getting fired, can't risk losing this job, and in the long run spending an extra few hours with you was not worth losing out on potential weeks' worth of diner visits.

So, unwillingly, he begins to send himself back to reality, away from your warmth and delight. He looks back around, noticing that the old couple that has been harping on him all night is still sitting at a booth in the far corner of the diner. A long breath falls from his lips, wishing that all of his customers could be as sweet as you, greeting him with a kind smile and attentive eyes. But even then Edward knows no one could ever compare, he knows he would never get as much pleasure from serving anyone as he does you. You were an experience he could not find anywhere else, and that's why it pained him so much to once again leave you alone in this booth, left to try and solve this cipher on your own.

Edward slowly stands up from the table, his hands warily pushing into its surface, reluctantly supporting him as he makes his depart.

"I'll be back soon," He smiles, stepping out of the booth.

"See you, Eddie."

A brisk wind hits Edward's face as he takes a step out of the overwhelming confines of the diner, slipping out into the dark Gotham streets. He sighs as he leans up against the building, his fingers slipping into his pocket to fish for the battered cigarette package. His hand wraps around the flimsy cardboard and takes it out of the tight confines of his trousers, flipping open the top and taking out a cigarette. He places the long, slender stick in his mouth before placing the package of cigarettes back in his pocket, and searching for his lighter in the other one. The cigarette sits between his teeth as both of Edward's hands come up close to his face, one cupped around his mouth to protect the impending flame from the wind, and the other holding his lighter, ready to strike. A calloused finger flicks down on the cold, metal flint, eliciting a bright orange flame from the cheap green lighter. The soft glow from the flame casts a small amount of warmth against Edward's face as he lights the end of his cigarette.

Edward inhales the warm smoke, letting the cool taste of menthol coat his mouth and throat, his prior urge to quit dissipates just as quickly as the smoke that exits his mouth does when it hits the wind. Edward's vaguely aware of each inhale's toxicity, but people fill their bodies with garbage every day, so really, how much more harm could a cigarette be doing?

Edward suddenly turns around, startled by the rattling of the diner door behind him. His gaze now falls upon you, who's just exited the diner, bag full of books slung over your shoulder, ready to leave. Your sudden appearance catches Edward way off guard, causing him to stifle his inhale, the smoke getting stuck in his throat. The once comforting warmth is now burning as he begins to viciously cough, nearly dropping his cigarette in the process. You stand there next to him, a vaguely worried look on your face.

"You alright, Eddie?" You ask, tiliting your head to the side.

"Yeah-yeah," Edward barely chokes out after a few more coughs, his face flushed with embarrassment. Finally, he catches his breath and straightens himself out, and a more relieved look washes over your face.

"I finished the cipher." You state, "I- uhh- I left a copy of it on the table- right next to your tip- if you wanted to take a look at it."

"Of course I do," His face lights up, "That's good. I told you you could do it." Edward's free hand taps anxiously at his side, his fingers pattering at the fabric of his pants.

"Well," You look down at your feet, a shy smile tugging at your lips, "It was mostly you, Eddie."

Edward wonders why you're being so bashful, you should be proud of yourself.

"Don't discount your work, I merely just helped,"

"I guess." You shrug, "Well- I just thought I'd let you know it's there for you on the table, I didn't know if you're staying 'til close- but I'm getting pretty tired so I figured I should go."

"No-uh-yeah that's alright, I still have a bit left on my shift." Edward nods incessantly. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Of course Eddie." You smile, "Goodbye," You shift towards Edward slightly and open your arms. He freezes for a minute, all of his joints simultaneously feeling like they've just locked up. He needs to take a second to process what your open arms are inviting before he anxiously opens his up slightly too.

Your arms find themselves on his torso, just barely giving his upper body a squeeze. Edward is completely thrown off guard, you've never hugged him before. He wants nothing more than to throw his arms around you, pull you into a bone-crushing embrace, and show you the full force of his affections. But he stops himself, only wrapping one arm fully around your back, and the one with the cigarette loosely around you, keeping it stuck out slightly to keep the flame away from your body.

Even in your friendly embrace, Edward can't help but admire the warmth that radiates off of you. Not just physical body heat, but the way your arms hold him, and your headrests just gently on his shoulder, no one has ever handled him with such delicacy. He couldn't even tell you the last time he had a hug, years probably, and one like this? Literally never.

"Goodbye." He choked

He desperately suppressed the urge to tell you how much this meant to him, to get comfortable in your arms, to let you hold him there- but Edward knew this was no more than a friendly goodbye hug between two acquaintances. Your arms slowly pulled away from him as a small yawn escaped from your mouth. He couldn't even be disappointed at the sensation of you letting him go, the afterglow of even the simplest affection, was so heavy on his face.

"See you soon!" You wave, beginning to step away from Edward.

"Please be safe." He urges, unable to not worry about the possibilities of wandering around Gotham late at night.

"I will Eddie," You sport a content grin across your face as you turn around and walk away. Edward's gaze follows you down the sidewalk until he sees you get into a car that he presumes is yours.

He brings his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling, desperate for some relief now that his mind is once again moving at a million miles a second. The nicotine does little to calm him down now, still all too stunned from your sweet goodbye. If anyone were to pass by now he'd surely look like a madman, his body entirely stiff and locked up, smiling like an absolute maniac. But he didn't have half the mind to even care about his perception to other people because you hugged him. How could he ever possibly stop thinking about that? How could literally anything else in his life matter?

Edward quickly finishes his smoke, eager to see your work on the Zodiac cipher. What remains of the cigarette falls from Edward's fingers and onto the cold, hard ground below. He steps over the dwindling flame, crushing the cigarette with the heel of his boot and scraping the rubber sole against the rough pavement to make sure it's been put out. He anxiously steps back inside where he b-lines right to your table. The first thing he notices is a generous $15 tip, way over 20% for your meal. The sight of the wet bills sitting under a cup covered in tiny droplets of condensation brings a small smile to Edward's face, even though it makes him feel a little shallow.

Next to the bills, however, Edward notices a copy of the Zodiac cipher penciled out on the same notebook paper you had been using, on a separate sheet, the answer to the cipher, both of which he'd expected to see. However, Edward is slightly caught off-guard by a third sheet of paper, containing the same symbols of the 408 cipher, but of a different length in order, with a simple"Solve me :)" scribbled at the top.

Edward quickly realizes that you've left him your own cipher to solve, and he's even more excited now than he was before, just getting to see your solution to the Zodiac cipher. But now you're actually partaking in a puzzle for him to figure out? Could you get any more perfect? Edward's chest moves so rapidly, his breathing so present, that he's positive that it could probably be heard from tables away.

Despite all his eagerness to immediately drop everything and begin to decipher your message, he can hear his supervisor calling his name from across the diner. He gives out a shaky sigh, collecting the things from the table before returning to his job.

It's after 2 a.m. and Edward's finally home, his aching back hunched over his large wooden desk, papers sprawled throughout, illuminated only by a single, blinding lamp. He chews on his lip as he scribbles out the last remaining letters of your cipher before stepping back to read your work.

To my favorite waiter,

I know you love puzzles, so I wanted to try my hand at one I hope it's not too easy to solve, when you get the answer, give me a call!

The cipher then spelled out a series of ten single-digit numbers. Edward's pen fell right out of his hand straight onto the ground and his jaw went slack once he put everything together. Those numbers spelled out a phone number your phone number. You wanted him to call you. HIM!

Edward runs a hand through his sandy-blonde hair, lightly tugging on the strands as his fingers pass through in pure disbelief. Had his apartment always been this warm? His vision always been this blurry? Anxious fingers fumble towards his back pocket, quickly whipping out his phone. His hands are visibly shaking as he holds his phone out in front of him, typing the numbers onto the keypad. His nervous shakes causing him to hit the wrong number more than once.

Once he finally has the number down he sits there, staring at his bright screen reflecting back onto his face. He's lost, he has no clue what to do. You said to call him... but what if you're asleep? It is pretty late. What if it's a cruel joke and that's not even your real number? What if he says something stupid and embarrasses himself. Edward is at a loss, but he can't give up this opportunity, no way.

Edward screws his eyes shut tight, fuck it, he presses the bright green call button that shines in his face. The phone begins to ring, each high pitched toll feels like a growing mockery of Edward's own anxieties.

And finally, the ringing stops, the line picks up. Edward's heart drops down to his stomach.

"H-hello," He stutters into the speaker.

"Eddie!" A familiar voice says on the other side, comfort reigns over Edward as his body finally slumps back into his chair, "You called!"

#edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #the riddler #the riddler x reader #dano! riddler #dano! riddler x reader #edward nashton fic #paul dano #danonation

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