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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. viii

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chapter summary: Both you and Joel feel there is no use in keeping secrets anymore. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.4k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. References to absent/abusive parents, alcohol and marijuana mention. A little angst but mostly fluff. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: If you got notified I posted this at 3am accidentally, no you didn't. this isn’t even a long chapter but i fought with it so much because i was terrified it wouldn’t live up to the hype. Like….everything has been building to this one and I don’t know if it feels right. I love crippling self-doubt. I love being insane! I’m fine.

-July 9, 2003-

Joel is falling in love.

He doesn’t know it yet. That’s how love works, right? No one can really pinpoint the exact moment it happens. Most of the time, it’s recognized in hindsight.

What he does know is that you love Sarah. Do you love him? He’s not sure yet. Right now, it almost doesn’t matter. Of course you would love her first. He imagines – he knows – how easy it is to love her. So, he can’t fault you for that. And it’s all that matters. Every other relationship he’s been in has lacked this one critical element. Including his relationship with her own mother.

Now, he feels there is no use in keeping secrets. He can trust you. He knows Sarah likes you. It all makes sense.

But he is worried about you. It’s been a few days since the fair, and he hasn’t heard from you. He had seen something from you that so rarely surfaced. Vulnerability. As much as you had tried to hide it behind clenched fists and a sharp tongue – you had been scared. Not just in the moment, but after. Scared to show any weakness, scared to let him in. Maybe you were ashamed, and maybe he’d pushed you too far afterwards. But all he wants is for you to realize that with him, you are safe.

Joel gets out of his truck and slams the door shut, looking over at your house out of habit. The blinds are shut, your garage closed. It’s six o’clock. He’s home earlier than usual, but he’s used to a different view. Front door hanging open, with warm light beckoning through sheer curtains. He has stood in this very spot and watched Sarah from a distance as she comes back home, the sounds of your combined laughter reaching his ears even from across the street. Where have you been? He wonders.

Once he’s inside, he doesn’t bother getting too comfortable. Sarah’s at a pool party, and he has to pick her up within the hour. It’s not enough time for him to bother with showering, but he does make himself a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. All that’s left of the loaf is the two end pieces. He needs to go to the store.

He sits at the kitchen table to eat. Sarah’s only gone for the day, but he wonders why his house feels so big and empty without her. For two weeks she had been away at camp, and he hadn’t felt this lonely. It takes him a moment to realize it’s because he had spent all his time with you.

The sound of the phone ringing interrupts his sulking, and he answers without checking the caller ID. It’s probably a vendor. Another delayed shipment. “This is Joel.”

“Hey, Joel.” It’s you.

“Hey,” Even though you aren’t physically here, he straightens up, wipes his mouth with the paper towel he’s using as a napkin. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” you say, your voice sounds….light. Normal. He hears phones ringing in the background. “How are you? How is Sarah doing?”

“I’m good,” he says. “And she’s good.”

“I’m glad,” you begin. “Listen, I uh, I feel like I’ve been MIA the last few days. Work’s been crazy, I’m actually still at the office right now. But I wanted to call you….I’ve uh….I’ve missed hearing your voice.”

Joel feels his shoulders sag in relief. “I missed hearin’ yours.”

You hum softly. “Are you around this weekend? I’d like to see you.”

“I’d like that.” Joel sighs. “I’ll be around. I could make you dinner.”

You don’t answer right away. Joel strains to hear, but all he can make out is keyboards clacking faintly in the distance. “Can….can you make dinner? Like physically. Is that possible?”

Joel looks down at his half-eaten, all-crust peanut butter sandwich. It’s not a very good indicator of his abilities. Maybe you’re right. Nevertheless. “I’ll have you know, I make a mean macaroni and cheese.”

“If it’s from a box, that doesn’t count.”

‘It should, though,” Joel defends. “That’s basically all Sarah and I eat.”

“Oh, god,” you laugh. “Have you had your blood tested for nutritional deficiencies? Because I’m concerned for your health.”

“Yeah, actually, I have and I got an A…plus.”

The line is silent again for much longer. Joel thinks the call might’ve dropped, so he says your name. “Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking.”

You giggle. “Okay, just making sure,” you sigh, then add. “We have the same blood type.”

“Guess that’s serendipity,” Joel says.

“Well, I think you’ve made me go soft….“ you groan. “But I’ll eat your boxed macaroni and cheese if it makes you happy.”

“It will.”

Joel leaves the conversation feeling reassured. Truthfully, he’s not sure what he’d call you, if someone asked. He’s never asked you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you were only seeing each other. There had been that other guy, whose name he didn’t care to remember, but Joel had asked you about him in a moment of weakness while Sarah was away at camp, and you hadn’t hesitated. There’s no one else. It’s just you. A confession whispered while you were laid bare and pliant beneath him, his hand resting lightly, but still possessively – over your throat.

This dinner is reasonably the next step. It’ll be a good opportunity to let you know he’s going to tell Sarah. To make sure you are on the same page. And then he can sit down with her and have the talk alone.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Dad, can I ask you something?”

It’s later in the evening, and Joel is mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when Sarah enters the living room from the kitchen. She stands with her hands clasped, shifting from foot to foot. Noticing her body language, he leans forward and hits the mute button.

“Yeah, what’s going on, babygirl?”

“Before camp….you went on a couple dates. Are you still seein’…whoever that was?”

Joel hesitates a minute. This is a conversation they’ve only ever had a handful of times before, but rarely initiated by Sarah. “Uh, yeah…sweetheart but uh….it’s been a little. We’re both busy people.”

Sarah studies him for a moment, and it’s hard to recognize the look in her eyes. “What makes you ask?” Joel prompts.

“Just curious,” she shrugs. “You uhm…you seem…happier. More relaxed.”

Joel’s face feels warm. “Yeah, she’s….she’s pretty great.”

“Will I get to meet her?”

You already have, he wants to say. And he should just tell her now. Get it out of the way. But if he tells her the truth without letting you know first, it feels like it will make the already messy situation even messier. “Eventually,” he nods.

“Cool,” His daughter smiles at him, but he sees the way her shoulders remain slumped. Sarah crosses the room to sit next to him on the couch. “Can we watch a movie?” she changes the subject.

“Sure,” Joel gets up to look at their collection of DVDs, thumbing over them and listing off some of her favorites. “Let’s see….Scooby Doo, Bend It Like Beckham, Clueless….” When she doesn’t answer right away, Joel looks over his shoulder to see her curled up, head turned to stare out the front window. “Sarah? Any of those sound good?”

“What?” she turns back towards him. “Bend It Like Beckham? I haven’t watched that in awhile.”

Joel pulls the movie from the shelf and puts it in the DVD player. When he sits back on the couch she lies down and puts her head on his knee. He knows she’ll be out within minutes.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-July 11,2003-

Standing on the front porch of Joel’s house, you realize you feel more calm in this moment than you have all week – and you haven’t even seen him yet. The prospect of spending time with him alone is enough.

You don’t even need to fake your smile as the door wins open – it happens on its own accord. But as soon as it comes, it falls away when you are met with –

“Sarah?”

It’s her name, but it sort of sounds like it’s a question. You force the smile back onto your face because looking shocked is the opposite of what you want to do. Where is Joel? Are you early? Incredibly, incredibly late? Your heart rate picks up, as you rack your brain for something to say. Some kind of excuse, some kind of explanation.

“Uhm…I uh, I was wondering if I could uh, borrow a….drill? I’m uh….assuming your dad has one, right? I have this picture….that I’m hanging.”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah nods, lets you step inside, but she only backs up a few steps, and stays facing you. Her chin tilts, giving you a once-over. It’s then you remember what you look like. You’ve styled your hair, you’ve put on makeup. She crosses her arms. ”You look pretty.”

“Oh, thanks,” you nod. “So do you.”

“Are you goin’ somewhere after you hang your picture?”

You shrug, like you don’t know what she’s getting at, and then shake your head. “Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow, but her lips curve up just a little.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry…” you play dumb. “What?”

“My dad’s date. It’s you.”

The thing is, you’ve been so tied up in keeping the secret from Sarah, and feeling guilty about keeping the secret from her, that you haven’t really thought of what could happen when she found out. And when you did, the idea of the worst case scenario – her rejection, made you feel sick to your stomach.

Directly in front of her, she looks at you dead-on. Everyone has a different definition of what lying is. Deflecting, dismissing, are fine in your eyes but….denying? Especially when the question being asked is so….direct? That would be lying. And sure, you’re not even above that sometimes. But you can't lie to Sarah, regardless of the consequences.

You take a deep breath. “Look, Sarah I wanted to tell you, but-”

“Oh my god, I knew it!” she punches your arm at first. You reach to quell the ache it leaves behind, but before you can, she throws her arms around your neck and squeezes you tightly.

“Thank God it’s you.” Slowly, your arms raise to return the hug, but you’re really at a loss of words. Her voice is muffled against the shoulder of your shirt. “I’ve never wanted to be right about something so bad in my life.”

“Sarah,” you hear Joel’s voice call from upstairs, and she pulls back. “Is that you I hear downstairs? I thought Emily was supposed to pick you up a half hour ago!”

Sarah keeps her eyes on you, grinning widely as she answers. “She’s running late.”

“Well, babygirl, I’ve gotta-” Joel’s footsteps pause on the landing, and you look up to see him staring at you both. He looks like a deer trapped in headlights, and you see his expression shift through every possible emotion – concerned, fearful, regretful, apologetic, but by the time Sarah turns to face him with her arms crossed, it’s gone blank.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Dad?”

Joel looks at you, as if you can somehow get him out of this situation. All you have to do is raise your eyebrows. She knows. He rolls his shoulders back and looks up at the ceiling, taking a deep inhale, then drops his gaze to his daughter. “I was gonna tell you soon. Probably later tonight I had to talk to-” he gestures to you, then pinches his temples.

“I knew it,” she repeats herself.

Joel makes a skeptical face, easing the rest of the way down the stairs. “No you didn’t.”

“No, I did,” she smiles. “I always thought you had a crush or somethin’, and then I saw the way you were looking at her last weekend, and you were so weird yesterday when I brought up the fact that you were going on dates, and you’ve kept the house way too clean, and-”

“Okay, fine!” Joel cuts her off, and you see his cheeks flush slightly, like he’s embarrassed. “You knew it. I believe you.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Sarah elbows you.

“I asked her not to,” Joel defends. “We were figuring things out.”

She backs down, then looks between you.

“Everything good?” Joel asks. “Everyone happy?”

Sarah nods, then grins. “Good.” Joel wraps an arm across each of your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. Then he plants a kiss on the top of both of your heads.

Outside, a car horn honks.

“That’s Emily,” Sarah mumbles, her cheek smushed up against Joel’s bicep, and he loosens his grip, but still keeps you both close. “Will you be here when I get home?” Sarah asks, looking at you.

“I can be.”

“When’s curfew?” Joel asks. A test.

“Ten-thirty,” Sarah says confidently.

“Good,” he says, patting her shoulder. “Have fun. We’ll see you when you get home.”

Sarah grins and gives you one more quick hug before bounding outside. Both you and Joel watch her get into the car through his screen door. You turn to him first after the car backs out of the driveway.

“Well,” you cluck your tongue. “So much for sneaking around.”

“I’m so sorry,” Joel covers his face with his hands and groans. “You don’t understand. I had this whole plan tonight to cook you dinner and talk to you about this. I wanted to see if it was okay before I told her but I had no idea her friend was running late and I should’ve-”

“Joel,” you interrupt.

“I just wanted to do one thing right.”

“Joel,” you repeat his name, reach out and put a hand on his arm. “Best laid plans. It’s alright. Really.”

“You’re not mad?”

You shake your head vehemently, give him a gentle smile. He pulls you back against him and kisses you tenderly, hands on either side of your face. “I’m just glad she’s not mad,” you confess. “I thought she’d hate me once she found out.”

“I knew she wouldn’t.” He chuckles. “She loves you.”

If he had known she wouldn’t be upset, you wonder why Joel would want you to keep it a secret? What revelation did he have that suddenly made him okay with it? Maybe he’s trying to tell you something right now. Without saying it. So do I.

Before the kiss gets too heated, Joel pulls away. You’re led into the kitchen, where he pours you both glasses of chilled white wine, and you sit at the counter, chatting with him about his day while he cooks you chicken alfredo.

“I felt like if I was going to talk to you about this….kind of serious thing, we shouldn’t be eating a meal made primarily for college students and five-year-olds,” he explains. There’s a piece of hair falling onto his forehead. You gravitate closer to him, sipping your wine and leaning back against the counter to study him carefully.

“Dang,” you reach out, pushing his hair back away from his face. “This whole week I kept seeing traffic cones and craving boxed macaroni.”

“Well you might still get to eat it,” he laughs. “Because I have no idea how this is gonna turn out.”

“I’m sure it will be alright,” you assure him. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.” He gives you a sweet smile in response, and you relish in it – press your cheek against his shoulder, and hold it there for a moment, looking down with him at the stovetop.

It’s a milestone, of sorts. Sarah knows about you. And from everything Joel’s told you, not everyone he is with gets that privilege. Even if he’s asked you for nothing else, this means something. To him, and now to you in turn. There’s a version of yourself from not long ago that might’ve run for the hills at the implication. But you’re tired of running.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-August 14th, 2003-

You’re roused awake by the feeling of the mattress dipping beneath the weight of another body next to yours. Being the light sleeper that you are, you get bits and pieces of the unfamiliar room you are in through bleary eyes. And it’s cold. Somewhere during the night, you'd kicked off the fluffy duvet and comforter, and now you’re completely nude underneath nothing but a sheet.

“You still sleepin’?” It’s Joel. Even though sleep still obscures most of your base-level functioning, you recognize his low, easy drawl. He tugs on the thin layer of fabric that covers your body. Your fingers curl, fisting into the gauzy fabric tucked under your chin.

“Please don’t,” you croak out, shivering. “I’m freezing.”

Joel tuts lightly, and slides under the covers to join you. His skin is slightly damp against your own – he’s just gotten back from his morning run. With anyone else, you’d be disgusted, maybe even snap at them for soiling the sheets. But somehow, he smells fucking incredible like this – all salt and sweat, and so warm.

Pressed against him, you thaw. His hand slides over the dip in your waist, paws at your thighs. “Joel,” you whisper, but it’s not at all a protest. You’re used to this, all handsy in the morning and especially after he works out.

“I need you,” he murmurs into your ear and you feel him, already hard and grinding against the flesh of your ass.

You hum your affirmation, and that’s all it takes. Joel shifts behind you, probably pushing his shorts down, before lifting your thigh and lining himself up with your entrance. You groan at the feeling of him stretching you open. One of his hands clasps over your mouth, the other holds your hips in place as he drives himself as deep as he can go. You moan louder.

“Shh, shh, baby,” he murmurs, voice still raspy from lust and sleep. “Don’t want to wake anyone else up.”

Right. You aren’t alone. Tommy and Sarah’s rooms are just across the hall. The knotty pine walls of the cabin start to shift into focus. With this in mind, you do your best to stay quiet as Joel starts up a callous pace that you think for a second might be a little too aggressive, until the sound of his needy panting in your ear makes you reconsider. You can’t help yourself.

That’s all this, being with Joel – is. You keep giving more and more of yourself over to him. You can’t stop, you don’t want to. It feels good, the surrender. However slow it may be.

Your body thrums to life before you know it, and then you’re overly sensitive and desperate in-kind, clenching around his length as he ruts into you.

Joel’s hot mouth trails sloppy, wet kisses along your neck. “Always feels so good, pretty girl. Like you were fuckin’ made for me,” his words buzz against the shell of your ear, fall down where they break at the base of your spine, a hundred shards shattering upon impact. Whatever expletive that leaves you comes out, muffled by his palm. “Hard to stay quiet, huh?”

It’s already too much. You’ve gotten sinfully wet within minutes. And when you grind back against him involuntarily, that pulls him farther forward. “Touch yourself, darlin’,” he commands. “Not gonna last long.”

You can feel him throbbing, right on the brink, so you reach down to circle your clit with two fingers as Joel movements grow sloppy, and uncoordinated. The feeling of him spilling deep inside you is the catalyst for your own orgasm, and Joel manages a few more thrusts to work you through it, his grip tightening over your mouth to hold back the noise.

He doesn’t pull back right away, just strokes your hair and peppers kisses on your shoulders. You listen to his sweet nothings, and savor the thump of his heart against your back.

“I should hire you as my personal alarm clock from now on,” you say, voice hoarse, once you catch your breath. You feel the evidence of what he’d done to you, and press your thighs together at the sensation.

Joel chuckles. “You wouldn’t have to pay me. I’d volunteer.”

“So selfless,” you quip, and he drags his nose up the middle of your back, dazed and content. “Okay,” you wriggle from his grip to sit up. If you don’t leave the bed now, you don’t think you will ever find the strength again. “I need to shower.”

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you say. “But you’re not allowed to distract me.”

“We’ll see about that…” Joel tickles your waist.

“Joel,” you say, sternly. “I have shit I want to do.”

“Oh, really?” he seems unconvinced. “You’re finding tasks on vacation?”

“I wouldn’t call them tasks,” you explain. “But Sarah and I were gonna walk to that coffee shop in town.”

“Coffee shop? Without me?”

“I mean….last night you and Tommy promised to make breakfast,” you ruffle his hair affectionately, and he wrinkles his nose. “So I think we’re expecting it. But I’ll bring something home for you.”

Joel grins, and pulls you in for another kiss before letting you retreat first to the bathroom, before following after you dutifully.

He had driven the four of you a couple hours to some wildlife reserve you’d never heard of for a long weekend before Sarah went back to school at the end of the month. It’s your first trip together, and while you were excited to get out of the suburbs, it was a far cry from the vacations you had been used to growing up, and renting out a cabin had been a compromise, instead of straight-up camping.

Still, you make the most of it. You and Sarah walk to the lake, and lay out on towels reading books and laughing until the sun dries out your skin. Tommy tries to teach you both to fish, but you’re too grossed out to touch the nightcrawlers he buys so you can’t even bait the hook. Joel takes you hiking and Sarah nearly breaks her foot trying to climb a tree. In her defense, you tell Joel it looked very climbable.

Sarah demands to do a photoshoot when she finds the digital camera you brought, much to Joel’s dismay. He grumbles under his breath and rolls his eyes when you pick pink wildflowers and tuck them in his curls, then behind his ears, before you and Sarah do the same for each other. You snap portraits of each other – you and Sarah, then Sarah and Joel, then Tommy and Joel, and so on.

When you get the pictures developed, and you see the photo on the top of the stack, you nearly return them, thinking there’d been a mistake. It’s one Sarah took of you and Joel. He’s kissing your cheek, arms encircling you, and you’re laughing so hard that your eyes are closed. The woman in the photo doesn’t look like you….she’s so happy.

Each night of the trip, you take turns on dinner duty – usually something that involves a grill. And the dad in Joel cannot help but hover around whoever is the chef, giving them pointers until he ends up taking over the meal entirely. The weed you brought mysteriously disappears one night after Tommy’s leaves to ‘go for a walk’, and you make s’mores over a fire. It’s so normal.

On your last night, you lay on the hammock next to Sarah, the mosquitoes unable to penetrate the protective circle of citronella candles and incense you’ve surrounded yourselves with. The cool breeze rustling through the trees is a reprieve from the unforgiving heat and humidity of the day. You’re making progress on The Da Vinci Code, even though Sarah is reading The Hobbit and periodically interrupting you to ask questions.

The back door slams and you hear shoes approach, crunching over gravel. “Hey girls,” Joel stands over you with his hands on his hips. He gives the hammock a push that sends it into motion, swinging back and forth gently. You laugh, but Sarah wrinkles her nose, clearly disturbed by the movement. “Room for one more?”

“No,” Sarah lifts her arm to try to keep him from climbing beside her. “Get a chair.”

Joel huffs, but doesn’t argue, pulling up the folding chair to sit next to you both. “It’s a nice night, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” you answer. Sarah puts the book closer to her face, gives a mumbled yes.

“Sarah, honey, have you enjoyed yourself?”

“Did you not bring something to read out here?”

“No, I thought I’d come talk with you both because I was gettin’ bored all alone.”

“Maybe you should go get your guitar,” Sarah suggests.

“Where’d Tommy go?” you ask.

“Met some girl who’s stayin’ two doors down,” Joel raises an eyebrow at you.

You shake your head. “Incredible.”

The night is loud, but ambient, crickets chirping. “It’s definitely starting to get dark earlier,” Joel observes.

Sarah lets out a long sigh at that, shuts her book with a satisfying snap, and shifts to sit up. “I’m going inside.”

“You don’t have to go, babygirl,” Joel reaches to steady the hammock and keep you from flipping out of it.

“I’m tired,” she says. “And I gotta pack my stuff up.”

“Do you want me to-”

“No, please, Dad, just…let me be.”

Joel frowns, and he stares at her dejectedly as the door slams shut. He turns back to you. “Did I do something wrong?”

You smirk, shake your head. “End of summer blues.”

“Should I talk to her?”

“Maybe give her some time….check in later.”

Joel sighs, stands from his chair, and takes Sarah’s place next to you on the hammock with incredible grace, considering the task. Smooth motherfucker, you think to yourself.

“Tell me how you know more about parenting than I do?” he asks, rolling onto his side and propping himself on an elbow. “Sometimes I feel like you’re better at it.”

To be fair, Sarah had been hinting at it all week, but you didn’t want to pry until she said it outright. Plus, it’s a familiar feeling. “I guess it helps that I was once a teenage girl. I used to get angsty before school started up every year.”

“How’d your dad handle it?” You realize that Joel is asking the question completely innocently, without thinking, but the second it leaves his mouth he realizes his mistake, and you can see the apology written in his features.

It’s nothing, you shake your head. “Do you…” you trail off. “Do you want to know?”

Joel nods carefully.

“Well,” you bite your lower lip. “He didn’t really handle it at all. I didn’t like being sent away. The one time I came to him in tears over it, he told me to quit being a crybaby and sent me to my room. So after that, I just never bothered him about it again.”

Almost twenty years ago, but it’s like you’re there, in the dim light of your bedroom, biting on a corner of a frilly pink throw pillow and not bothering to wipe the tears that track down your cheeks and stain the embroidery. It wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last.

“How old were you?” Joel asks.

“I don’t know,” You pick at the corner of your book, avoiding his eyes. “Younger than Sarah. Nine or ten?”

You wait for Joel’s expression to shift to one of pity. But it never does. There’s only something steely in his gaze. He winds an arm around your waist and brings you up against him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, because it wouldn’t be opening up if you didn’t feel the need to immediately downplay everything you had said. “My brother ended up sneaking me out and taking me to get a milkshake.”

“I’m glad he was there.”

“Me too,” you nod. “He was- is a good brother. Things are just….complicated now that we’re older.”

“I know that feeling,” Joel strokes your hair, runs his hand up the side of your waist absentmindedly. You find his quiet empathy – the space he holds for you – incredibly rewarding. That wasn’t so bad.

After the moment passes, he tugs on the collar of the flannel you’re wearing over a tank top. “This my shirt?” he asks. You nod, give a cautious smile.

“Hope it’s okay,” you said. “I was cold. I didn’t think it’d get this cold at night.”

“It’s more than okay,” he mumbles, nosing past your hair and pressing his lips to your throat. You shiver. “You always look so pretty. But being out in nature really suits you.”

“Okay,” you say sarcastically, and don’t believe him for a second.

“You should really let me take you camping sometime. Proper camping,” he continues.

“Joel, we talked about this,” you recall the conversations leading up to this trip. “If I am not within walking distance of an actual shower, I will die.”

Joel laughs. “I’m not being dramatic. It would kill me.”

“Don’t say that,” Joel scolds. “You’d be fine.”

“I’m not built like you. I’m a City Girl.”

“You’re not at all curious about the idea of having sex in a tent?”

“We have sex in a bed just fine. Why do we need to do it in a tent? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“It’s a change of scenery.”

“Okay so if that’s all it is, just hang a different picture in your room or something.”

Joel laughs again.

“Look, I’m open minded about a lot of things, but if you took me camping, properly, out in the wilderness, you would hate me by the end of it.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Joel answers. “I bet I’d still think I’m a pretty lucky guy.”

You roll your eyes, pick your book back up and scan the pages, none of the words hitting. “You have too much faith in me. Truly.”

“I’m serious,” he mumbles, hand under your chin. “Look at me, just let me sweet talk you for a second, alright?”

Sighing, you let the book fall on your chest and clasp your fingers over it, turning to face him. “You’re so good. To me, to Sarah. Even to Tommy, although that’s not very important,” he smirks at his joke, almost like his brother could hear him. Quickly, he focuses back on you. “You fit in so well, and you don’t even have to try. I’m just so….happy.”

Joel isn’t a poet or anything, but it’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to you. And it means more since it’s from him. You give him a gentle smile. “Me too.”

But before anything can settle, you’re made aware of the deep ache within you. All you’ve ever wanted, all your life, is to not feel like a burden. To be cared for, paid attention to, without having to do anything to earn it. Do you really deserve this? Him? Sarah? How long will it be before it gets taken away, like it always has.

You feel like a toddler. A shiny toy is being dangled in front of you, but the second you reach for it, acknowledge how much you want it, it’s pulled away. You’re so uncoordinated, you fall on your face.

“Are you with me?” Joel asks, and you realize you’ve been staring absentmindedly at your feet. You nod. “What’s on your mind?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.”

You scrape your top teeth together for a second. “I’m really happy. I am, Joel,” you promise him. “But for me, good things don’t usually last.”

Joel’s hand circles yours, brings it so it’s pressed against his heart. “This will.”

You chose to believe him.

------

taglist: @netflix-imagines @waymorecake4me @yaskna@venomous-ko @lomljigg @yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet@nadja-antipaxos@strawberri-blonde@jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc@ay0nha@virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester@raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow @user294829329 @gushington-central @hollyismentallyillhelp @dresseduplikeacarcrash @corvusmorte @aheartgonewild @19891213 @emoslave44 @elthreetimes @gushington-central @peqchsoup @dresseduplikeacarcrash@user294829329 @cherry-holmes @bookofbee @reidsgubbler @jlmaddinson @hellofutur @silkiers

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

WIBTA for cancelling my DnD game, and then trying to start a different one?

(🎲 to find later)

so I'm DMing a DnD game, and I have four players: I'll call them Rob, Brandon, Gabrielle, and Trudy.

As we played, I realized that - while I like Rob, Brandon, and Trudy as friends - I dislike how they play DnD. Rob and Trudy are extremely detached from the game and rarely interact, and when they do it's superficially or they question the realistic-ness of the lore or the reactions of NPCs. Brandon treats the entire thing as a joke, making joke characters and trying to force "funny moments" into serious situations; this goes really against the overall tone and intentions for the game, which I established with him early on, and during character creation he assured me he wouldn't act this way. I've had discussions with them about their playing and requested that they rectify these behaviors, but they have not stopped.

In contrast, I like how Gabrielle plays DnD, but have come to dislike her as a person and no longer wish to be around her. I don't want to get into the details, because it's very specific and I don't necessarily believe it's very relevant to this particular inquiry. But I don't want to be around her any longer.

However, even if I kick out Gabrielle and find another person, just one good player will still not make the game fun for me to play due to the other players' actions. It makes DMing this campaign not fun for me.

I still do want to DM this campaign, though - just not for these players. I'm thinking of telling a part-truth, part-white-lie to them. I'm thinking of telling them that the pressure and responsibility of DMing this campaign for them is too much for me and I will be stepping down. But... Then I also want to post an advertisement on a Reddit forum looking for a new group.

They all know my Reddit username, though, and admit to occasionally browsing the forum I want to post in. Also they will likely recognize if I post the same advertisement looking for players (I worked hard on that post and I like it though...).

WIBTA for ending the DnD game I'm currently running and then advertising that I'm looking to run a new one?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lokidips · 4 months

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happy new years, my loves!

to start off the year, here are some prompts and headcanons that you’re free to use or simply discuss! and i want to remind you all that my dms are open to everyone if you want to have a chat <3

“why are you crying, loki?”

loki loves to pick flowers and gives them to his loved ones

“loki don’t bite!”

he’s an angry baby…

if he does not wish to be separated from frigga (or any comfort person), he will have the biggest tantrum till he’s returned to her

he doesn’t understand gender all that much, which isn’t unusual for a baby but it’s completely lost on him. so he expresses himself very freely, through watching shows targeted at girls, collecting flowers, watching sylvie put makeup on (the rare times that she does) and going through her clothes and playing with “girl’s” toys. he sometimes asks to wear dresses that he sees in store windows, eventually they’ll get him a special one… though thor will need some convincing

he also loves his mother’s clothes

what if… odin was a good dad? yes i am in the process of writing some short fics of this

he gets the zoomies! then he runs around the room and often has to be taken outside to get the beans out!

he loves to be ‘naked’ (just a nappy on, curtesy of @archaiceuphoriah for this one)

he loves to play with either thor’s beard or mobius’ moustache, they’re very fascinating. he also loves the feel of them when he gets kisses

he loves to watch people and what they’re doing, especially frigga when they’re in her morning room with guests

do not interrupt the prince’s beauty sleep! you have been warned.

he loves footie onesies, so comfy…

he also loves to stay in his pyjamas as long as he’s allowed, they’re very cozy, okay?

as children, thor would always take great care with his little brother. he would take him to the gardens to explore, and sneak into the kitchens to find baked goods and once loki grew tired and wanted his mummy, thor would carry his small brother back

#loki agere #baby loki #sfw agere #fandom agere #padded agere #marvel agere #little loki #agere blog #mcu agere #sfw regression

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zzzzzestforlife · 5 months

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Tech Girlie Diaries: being the youngest and only female software engineer on the team

👄 honest stories/lessons only 💅

I just found out I'll get to mentor my first female intern at work and I'm so excited!!! It's so rare that we (not even just our team but the company as a whole) get female interns 🥺 which got me thinking about everything I want to impart to this bright, young mind ✨ since I was once in her shoes 🩰 just without a female mentor 😔 Don't get me wrong(!!), I love my mentors and every chance I get to work with them has been great — they're literally the best dudes I've ever met 🥲 but there are some ~tech girlie things~ that guys just... don't have to deal with in the same way.

Hopefully, if you're also a woman in tech or an ally, these can help you too ☺️ and please let me know in the comments/reblogs/dms/asks if there's anything else I might've missed that you think my mentee should know! ❤️

Unburden Yourself: you do not represent all women ♀️

When I first joined this company as an intern, I was only the second female intern they'd ever had and their first backend female intern. There were no backend female engineers. I felt like I had to constantly prove myself against these bros who seemed to eat, sleep, and breathe code.

But I quickly realized, through the consistent kindness and respect my male colleagues gave me, that it is not a competition (unless it's a bug-solving hackathon, in which case, all other teams can suck it 🍭😜) and no one thinks for a second that I am a representative token of my gender.

Unfortunately, this diversity-affirming culture is still not the case in all workplaces, so this is the Most Important Thing to remember: that you deserve to be treated kindly and with respect by your colleagues AND yourself, so don't settle for anything less! 💕

Take the Day: Care for Yourself First🥇

After finding out I took basically no holidays for a year, my manager at the time was appalled and granted me a month-long vacation (it was amazing). He then proceeded to (kindly) lecture me on the fact that I was no longer an intern and working full-time means making a conscious effort to Not Burn Out™️. My current manager still gives me well-meaning lectures to the same effect, so I guess I haven't really taken this lesson to heart yet?? 🙈 I'll give some examples from what I should've done instead 😂

If that time of the month is killing you and you're straight-up collapsing at your desk: TAKE THE DAY OFF

If your back and wrists are killing you to the point that you physically cannot sit and type: TAKE THE DAY WEEK OFF

If you have personal/family struggles you need to be fully present for: TAKE THE DAY WEEK MONTH OFF

... You get the idea.

Be Your Most Effective Self 🌷

My current manager (literally one of the strongest women I know) and I work well together even though (or maybe precisely because) we have completely different personalities. She is direct, serious, and very goal-oriented 🎯 I tend to take a softer approach, can be completely unserious, and more people/morale focused 🍒

When I was starting out, I really felt I had to be more like my current manager so that people would respect me and take me seriously 😳 That thought daunted me so much because it's totally opposite my natural personality. It wasn't until people started telling me that my personality was a big part of why people like working me and want me on their teams that I started to learn to play to my strengths 💪

Despite our differences, my manager and I are both effective engineers in our own ways ☺️

Good Girls Get What They Deserve 💸

I have been unashamedly aggressive about what I want in my career.

Worked my butt off 🍑 for 2 promotions in 2 years 🌟 when it usually takes twice the amount of time for both! 🏃‍♀️

Communicated my desire to move into management someday to gain more mentorship / project leadership roles and experience 🤓

Your own growth and trajectory is what you have the most control over. Sometimes that means taking a well-deserved break, other times that means hustling and negotiating and networking until you make your dreams a reality.

I've lost count of how many companies I've applied to before landing this job and how many mistakes I've needed to correct even in my current position! So sometimes too, maintaining control means realizing that when you are denied/fail to attain certain opportunities, it makes you available to attend to others that may even be better suited to you in the long-run! 🏃‍♀️

💌: Say it with me, ladies: 🕯️❤️ The new year will be my year! I got this! ❤️🕯️

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jellyfishloveletterghosts · 9 months

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So I saw this post and well you know how it goes…

Now I’m thinking about Entomologist Ganondorf and traveler Link

Link in one of the rare times he is home for a few days and finds himself without plans turning on the old television that came with the place. Flipping through the channels absently and finding nothing of interest until he sees this giant of a man with butterflies clinging to him as he talks about them. Link recognizes the butterflies, he tasted on a few years back when he was traveling death mountain. Spiciest bug he ever tastes and the effects were great, he could barely feel the heat of the lava as he climbed higher and higher.

Ganondorf calls them Smotherwings and talks about all their benefits and how the locals use them in potions they sell to visitors to help them stand the heat of the volcano. From there he moves onto another region and another bug Link’s eaten while visiting. He watches entrance and fascinated as the man interacts with both live and mounted specimens talking about all of their benefits Link had unknowingly been taking advantage of.

Link posts about the show as he watches it. How attractive he finds the butterfly man how he wants to eat bugs with him and listen to him talk about them for hours. How he wants to marry the butterfly man.

Once the show is over Link is immediately trying to find the episode so he can track the butterfly man down. Unfortunately other than using the one social media app to post pictures from his travels he’s no very good with the internet. He texts Zelda in frustration. She laughs as his continued ineptitude with technology that isn’t the one app he bothered to learn. She does manage to find his name and then Link is able to find him too.

Link starts following the man looking forward to more bug related content from him in the future.

He wakes up the next morning to find that Ganondorf has followed him and gone through all of his stuff likening all of his bug eating posts. On the post where Link expressed wanting to marry the man, sure it would never be seen by more than a few friends Ganondorf has replied with - I’m flattered 💍-

Zelda being the little shit she shared it with her own massive following with – You’re going to say yes right? - She is not the only one commenting on it, hundreds of people Link does not know have opinions on their supposed upcoming nuptials. It is a little unsettling and he promises himself to get revenge on Zelda for unleashing her followers on him. He has a massive uptick in followers since last night because of all of this.

He doesn’t respond publicly instead sliding into Ganondorf’s dms - Do you want to go on a date? – Nervous and hopeful, stomach feeling like he has tried swallowing a live butterfly again. It tickles too much he will not make that mistake again.

He is not left waiting long, phone pinging near immediately with a response - Will there be bugs? -

That is an easy question to answer – Yes – and he hopes it will be well received. He is pretty sure it will be but there is still a nerve racking second before he gets his answer.

- I’d love to – Link is giddy with excitement.

They both go radio silence for a while, no bug facts from Ganondorf, no pictures of Link’s travels. When they do finally show up online again they both post the same picture. The two of them smiling and feeding each other bugs in some remote location.

Zelda once again has her followers in a frenzy when she replies to their pictures with – There better not be any bugs in the wedding cake. – They laugh when they read it and go back to enjoying traveling together, ignoring their growing follower count.

#Ganlink #Jellyhc #zelda modern au #Ganondorf x Link #ganondorf/link #ganonlink

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lucyvaleheart · 9 months

Text

Hey there! I'm Lucy, your local sword lesbian. I'm trans, poly, and extremely flirty. Married to @jadedkitteh, dating @ginny-erinschild!

I love to ramble about things, and I love to hear people ramble about things, so if you want to hear me talk or talk yourself, pop into my dms~!

I post a lot of varying things, mostly reblogs; 99% untagged except for the rare #swordposting. Ton of horny stuff, so if you're not 18 or older, probably stop here.

I very frequently keep an eye on my notes and follow people who reblog from me; if you're leaving lots of tags or reblogging lots of stuff.... I'll notice. 💖 Might even say hi....~

My interests

I'm big into games, queer shit, I also stream sometimes (twitch.tv/LucyValeheart), books, action and fighting and fantasy in all forms... Swords in particular, which hopefully is obvious given my title. Check my #swordposting tag for more about the ones I own!

I also own lots of rocks, so #rockposting may have one or two posts in it soon.... Who knows :3

Horny shit

Im into a lot. Like, a lot. And finally I've managed to fill out a kink chart I found online. It doesn't cover everything, but it hopefully paints a decent picture 💖

I'm about 90% submissive, but it's covered by my brattiness, and there's always that sneaky 10% domme in me....~

.....though admittedly, lately I've swung from 90 to 60, then back to 95, and it's really dependent on the day.... One of these days I'll figure it out!

I won't likely be posting any photos publically (shyness, self-dislike, security, etc) but I'm very happy to show people I'm talking to privately. If you want to skip tumblr messenger, my discord is lucyvaleheart; leaving that nice and settled deep under the cut so you have to work for it ;)

Just make sure your first message or so includes who you are on tumblr, or I may not keep you added for long <3 and do bear in mind that I am a lesbian, so I likely won't do any flirting with men :p

But don't be too intimidated~! Save that for a little further in this intro when you find out how tall and strong I am ❤️ I'm very open to chatting, and pretty good at keeping a conversation going c: try sending a simple "Hey" and I'll get things going from there!

About me

I'm trans as my header says, she/her, it/it's, 6'0" and about 350 pounds of muscle. I am obscenely strong. Yes, I can probably lift you. Yes, even you. Yes, I'm sure. I'm certainly going to try. 💖

A testimonial:

Here's a gif of my favorite katana and a video of my sparkliest rock for getting through all that text.

#pinned #swordposting #I'll have to actually try using that tag #that sounds fun #rockposting

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utilitycaster · 10 months

Note

From all the TTRPG shows you've watched so far, do you have any favourite player character builds, or builds that you think were especially well suited to the campaign/setting that the character was in?

You'd have to narrow this down - there's a lot (I stopped keeping my massive spreadsheet of character races and classes in actual play updated bc it was getting ridiculous but it's at over 100) so I'm just going to call out a few players who consistently hit this mark in everything they do.

Surprising no one, Emily Axford. Truly one of the biggest reasons why I get annoyed at the "haha Emily will DESTROY this DM" is that Emily has an incredibly good eye towards party composition and collaboration with DMs while also pulling off some wild multiclasses. This serves her in NADDPod especially, since they're a small party and everyone needs to be versatile. I will say that while I love Callie's build and think it mechanically works very well and made sense for her background in Mothership, it feels like it needs more in-story explanation that we haven't quite gotten to, but I also trust that we will.

Surprising no one with taste, Travis Willingham. Even in cases where we know it was off-the-cuff (Grog) he did a lot of work establishing why Grog was the class he was and how he felt about it; and in cases where it was pre-planned, the amount of backstory and mechanics work he does before and during the story is admirable to the point of ridiculousness (updating Chet's backstory to accommodate what Matt said in a flashback sequence? bananas). His multiclass choices always fit both the base build and the story admirably, and always fit a niche within the party that is very much needed, and the choice to play someone like Cerrit in Calamity or Fjord in general would put him here on their strength alone.

Again surprising no one, Aabria Iyengar; DMs make the best players. Capable of some great optimization (Deanna, Laerryn, whatever the hell Antiope had going on) or just playing a character with a simple build but with a strong understanding of the setting (Myrtle the Bitch; Suvi). Really, Suvi alone puts her here in that Aabria maybe more than anyone (though she might be tied with Emily Axford) understands wizards and understands that your character is a part of the DM's worldbuilding and needs to reflect that, while also serving as your contribution to that world.

And finally, Lou Wilson. He often does fairly simple builds - Nydas and late-game Fabian are the only ones with significant multiclassing beyond barbarian/fighter level dips - but he always knows precisely what his character is here to do from the start and why, can adapt on a dime, and he has a fantastic eye for subclass choice.

Honorable mentions:

Zac Oyama tends not to go for incredibly complex mechanics, but he has a great understanding of building a character who fits into the world in a way that both reflects and expands upon it, and has a great sense of subtlety, restraint, negative space, and comedic timing. (I've been meaning to make a negative space/comedic timing post but honestly just watch Zac and Travis.)

Grouping Taliesin Jaffe and Siobhan Thompson together because they are both very strong mechanically and not afraid of a wild min-maxed triple multiclass on occasion, but more specifically because they've both made at least one character I really did not vibe with and also absolutely could not fault in any way other than "not my thing, personally." Related to that, both of them bring an "I'm a generous and skilled player and I don't really give a fuck what the audience thinks" vibe that I (the audience) respects the hell out of.

Jake Hurwitz is the rare player who 100% knows his wheelhouse and embraces it whole-heartedly, and he puts in the character and setting work to keep it interesting.

Justin McElroy is mechanically competent but nothing impressive, but he absolutely thinks about his characters and the setting and how they fit together in a deep and interesting way and which sets him apart in TAZ. Kind of with Jake in that he 100% writes what he knows; I think this kind of player is underrated and having played with some, they shouldn't be.

And on the rare chances Brennan Lee Mulligan gets to play, not only is he min-maxed to the hilt but he always is working with the DM in a truly admirable way, even as he builds a little guy who cannot roll below a 25 deception or who has somehow managed to get sneak attack twice per round or something wild like that.

#answered #Anonymous #long post #actual play

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 months

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rare matchup trade with @mysteriawrites

for one of my very cute friends. i was in a major writing slump over the summer but she encouraged me to get out of my slump by offering a matchup trade! this is my first matchup for someone and very overdue on my part so i'm excited wehe

☆ and even though it’s a matchup i tried to write a full fic with her in mind, but applicable to anyone. especially because this is a whole entire fic with 5,905 words.

mysteria sent me a super detailed description in our dms so here's a summary of it:

mysteria is 5'2, african american, a capricorn and an infj! she's kind, responsible, moody, soft-spoken, and introverted. she also describes herself as a social chameleon that can match the energy of a room, from quiet and clumsy to sassy and teasing if she's comfortable enough. she likes animals, books, reading and writing, personality quizzes, rpg/mmo/rhythm games, and sweets. however, she dislikes loud sounds, math, trypophobia, spiders, and inconsiderate people. she also dislikes when people she cares about don't properly take care of themselves, but tends to forget her own needs. she's really a caring person at heart!

your matchup is under the cut for the drama! i match you with...!

Mischievous but observant, the Phantom Thief Alban Knox!

tags: gender neutral reader, getting together, hurt/comfort, reader is an overworker, bad work environment, happy ending, breaking and entering (and other thief-typical crimes lol)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There's this little convenience store right in your neighborhood that happens to be on your daily commute to work.

The first time you visit, you realize it's about five minutes away from your home and open 24/7, perfect for late-night snack runs.

The staff is so small, the same guy works the graveyard shift whenever you visit: tousled mocha-brown hair, a lanky body too thin for his uniform shirt, and two differently colored eyes. One is dark, while the other is so vividly green it makes him look intelligent.

It doesn't take long before he starts to memorize your usual order, and for you to memorize the Hi, my name is Alban! name tag over his apron.

With time the friendly customer service starts to become just actual friend behavior. You begin to learn more about one another. He asks you about your day, and when you mention some of your coworkers at your dime-a-dozen tech job he's able to remember who's who.

Meanwhile you've seen the two bowls outside the sliding doors, one full of water and the other kibble. Alban leaves them out for the neighborhood cats, and you've been lucky enough to meet a few of them before they scamper away.

Alban is like a brother to the strays, however, and the konbini tends to be empty whenever you visit, so there's no one to stop him when the cats paw at his leg, begging him to pick them up as you rant about your latest project. They even let you pet them once or twice before they climb over Alban's shoulders, watching you with nighttime pupils. Apparently that's rare. The first time a stray nuzzles your palm, Alban secretly slides you an extra pack of the snack cakes you wanted.

"If she trusts you, then you can keep a secret," he says. The cat's tail curls around his wrist before he nonchalantly drop the cake into your bag. "Our secret, right?"

Over time it becomes a part of your routine. Work during the day, visit the konbini, relax after a good conversation with Alban. Once your company picks up a new security project, your schedule slowly folds over. With Alban's late-night shifts and you working longer hours after getting a lead position, he becomes one of the few consistencies in a hectic career.

You really do treasure the time you spend with him. Now that so much is going on at work it's like his store is the only place you can unwind before you get back to programming at home.

Not to mention he's one of the few night owls you know, and the only one that was there for you when you felt like you were falling apart.

It's not like you wanted to let your defenses down, though. You'd been working tirelessly for weeks on this security system, but today your clients blew a fuse over things out of your control. All this effort, and the way they reacted made you feel like it was for nothing.

"Welcome!" Alban's standard customer service voice disappears once he recognizes your face. "Hey, it's my favorite—woah, wait. Are you okay?"

It stuns you how quickly he picked up on your mood. The second you left work, you spent ten minutes trying to wipe the ‘on the verge of tears’ look off your face.

"Don't worry, Alban, I'm fine." You try to smile. "Just a busy day at work. What're the daily specials today?"

"Oh! Uh..."

It's pretty obvious that wasn't a convincing excuse, but he lists off the menu anyways. You appreciate that he knows how to give you space.

You decide halfway through that you'd rather get your usual, though, too exhausted to think of trying anything new. "And a donut," you add, longing for a comfort food.

While Alban gets started on your food, the aisles of bright, prepackaged snacks feels like staring at a headache. Itching for relief, you stare outside the windows instead. A grayed tail swishes along the glass outside while two nighttime pupils stare right back at you.

The air prods at your skin as the sliding doors open, and you approach the cat. You recognize her as one of the first to warm up to you when you started to visit. She continues to watch you, even as you reach a hand out. Her tail rises like smoke.

The stray's eyes squint up into crescents as you scratch under her chin. "A meal and affection for free," you muse. You're trying to not be bitter, especially since this one is skittish, but you can’t help but feel envious. "Must be nice being a cat instead of a human."

The brisk nighttime air stills. This calm makes everything feel like it’s falling out of your grasp, but you don’t have a choice in the matter. You're a resigned observer to your own life.

"I just don't know what to do," you say. Your job pays well, but you’re so sick of being treated like this, especially after such a bad meeting with your client.

The stray nestles up closer to your hand, nudging the touch closer to her body so you can stroke her back. Not a moment later, she backs away. With powerful legs and silent breaths, she pounces down from the ledge, while the smoke trails into the shadowy brush on the other side of the parking lot.

So you lean back against the wall. Cold brick outlines your back. Damn. Not even the strays are cooperating with your shitty day.

By the time you return to the inside of the konbini, your nose is reddened from the chill. The overhead lights wash the color out of your face, so bright that the night outside seems jarring.

At least you can smell your food. Alban returns to the counter with a paper bag that feels warm to the touch, and a to-go box full of donuts.

You cock your head. “I only ordered one donut, didn’t I?”

“Yep.” He seals the box with a sticker. It’s a cute cat with the same mismatched eyes as him and ‘Freshness Guaranteed!’ underneath its paw.

“So why…?”

“Because I want to give you some. It’s nice to get freebies, especially when it’s for a friend that could use ‘em,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask, but you’re not doing so hot, are you? If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I’d be happy to. Help you, I mean.”

He slides the bag of food and the donut box to your side of the counter. “But for now, you just keep those and take a moment to yourself.”

A steady aroma follows the bag while the donut box is warm under your fingers, freshly baked and at no extra charge, simply just because. One green eye and one dark stares up at you from the sticker, blending into the white fur as your vision blurs.

"Alban."

"Yeah, what's—?"

Alban’s question falters. Instead you speak, with one hand up at your eyes, glossy and turning wetter by the second. “Thanks.”

It seems the mask has fallen now. You hunch over as you sniffle. Hot shame seeps down your back like burning oil, the tears feeling more and more like they’re boiling. It only makes you more embarrassed and frustrated, which causes even more heat behind your eyes, and the cycle continues. Now here you are, crying in the cold light of a konbini while the poor cashier has no way out. You don’t even have the heart to look up at Alban’s face.

“Sorry,” you say. Your voice sticks together. “I-I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m acting like a big baby, and I’m fine, I’m just—just making it weird, a-and you don’t even want to know.”

“But I do!”

Even though you don’t have the strength to raise your head, you can see Alban’s hands through mottled vision; namely, how they clutch at the counter—right before he sets them both over yours. You’ve never seen him without a pair of food-safe gloves, and these are no different, a solid black that sticks to your skin while fingers rest on your knuckles.

At his outburst, you dare to look up. His eyes are closed, mouth set in a crinkled frown, barely pursed as if he wants to say something. Alban reconsiders just as he opens it. Hesitation crawls into lowered brows, and your heart pangs even harder when he looks down at the hands. Either you’re seeing things, or there’s a bittersweet look in one eye and concern in the other. “If you trust me, then I want to know.

“Because you’re not ‘fine’. If you really were then you wouldn’t be crying at someone doing one tiny nice thing,” he blurts. “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did, I’ll give them a piece of my mind, no questions asked.”

“It’s… not a someone.”

That gets him to squeeze your palm. A wave of understanding bleeds through and travels up your veins. “I’m all ears.”

You squeeze back, eyelids smashing together as another fat tear rolls down your cheek. “It’s my jobbb.”

You aren’t exactly proud of how you weep, but the way Alban listens to you erases the regret. You spill your guts about the client, the meeting, the mismanagement, and that stupid security system you’ve been working on. Halfway through, Alban flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’, thumbs off his gloves, and sits next to you properly.

By now his touch returns, resting fingertips on your knuckles and rubbing up your wrist. Without the gloves, he’s warmer than ever, and softer. He passes you a box of tissues from the office, too, and doesn’t even flinch when you honk into the tissues in-between sobs.

You explain everything, even the tiny stresses in your career. “I’m lost. It pays so much but I’m so exhausted,” you say. “I don’t want to leave but sometimes I just wish I could, I don’t know, transfer to a different location, or give the client to someone else, or hell, some kind of payback.

“But I’d not that kind of person. And even if I was…” Your eyes cast downward. The tears have slowed but they’re still so wet with misery. “I’m so tired.”

Your heart aches just at saying it. The realization has set in now. You’re tired.

That’s putting it mildly. You never noticed until now, but there’s an indescribable weight in your neck and shoulders, just about ready to snap you in two under the pressure. You used to love this job, and you still love what you do, but only now are you realizing you’ve put far more into it than your superiors deserve.

“That’s fucked,” Alban finally says, and you almost snort at how plainly he says it. Instead it comes out as a weak chuckle.

“Can’t your boss put two and two together and realize you’re already giving one hundred percent—no, two hundred into the project?” He asks, even though you both know the answer. “That’s stupid. There’s a whole staff of people, so they need to get their head out of their ass and give you a break.”

“I wish.” You sniffle. “I’m just a generic worker, but I’m the only one that knows exactly how everything operates. Makes me feel like I can't even rest.”

“Do you have any time off?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So take it. You need it,” Alban says. Then he playfully nudges you. “You know you deserve to treat yourself.”

That gets another chuckle out of you, louder than the last. He smiles softly, and points out,sssssss “You’re laughing more.”

“You say things so simply that, I dunno, it makes things feel less difficult. Like when I think about it, it’s like this swirling black hole.” You exhale. “I was thinking about taking time off, earlier, but I told myself to tough it out instead of giving up. But now it doesn’t feel as extreme.”

“It’s not giving up. It’s resting. That’s a requirement.”

“Yeah. It just… doesn’t feel like it when I’m talking about me.”

“Then let me be the first to remind you that you’re allowed to relax just like the rest of us.”

You wipe your eyes again, this time with a tissue while Alban rubs your back. You’ve known that for as long as you can remember, but hearing Alban say it out loud is the beginnings of understanding. Internalizing that need.

You sniff, but rather than with hopelessness, a different feeling swells in your throat. Something like recognition, warm and loose rather than tight.

“Thanks,” you say. “For the food. And, you know, all this…”

The words get lost along the way, so you settle with a gentle tilt of your head to gesture.

Alban seems to get it without much trouble, though, and pats your back reassuringly. “It’s nothing.”

“I’d argue otherwise. I must have been a nuisance—“

“It's nothing,” he repeats. “No problem at all. If you ever walk in here crying again I’d do anything to make you feel better, you know.”

“Oh.” That makes you look away, almost scared of the fact. This type of caring is unfamiliar, and now that you’re all cried out, you can’t make heads or tails of the feeling. “That’s really sweet, I think.”

Alban lifts his hand off your body. The absence picks you up and out of your thoughts, so you raise your head. You watch as it rests back on his neck, right underneath his tousled brown hair. “Don’t mention it. Uh, how do you get home?”

“I usually walk.”

“Not that I don’t trust you, but you’re not about to walk home by yourself after crying your eyes out. I’ll drive you.”

Your eyes widen. “No, you don’t have to! I don’t want to be a bother!”

“Hey, I’m offering. No one visits at this time of night anyway, except for you.”

“Yeah, but it feels like I’m being a burden or something, and I don't want to cause more trouble for you than I already have, and—oh, forget it.” You bury your face in your hands. Your cheeks are still tempered from crying earlier, but now you can feel the unmistakable heat of embarrassment as well. “You’re not going to let this up, are you?”

He says, “Only if you’re sure you’ll get home safe. It’s late.”

“Fine, you can drive.” You pat at your face with the tissue. Your tears have long since dried, but maybe this will hide the blush. “I can’t say thank you enough.”

Alban shrugs that praise off as well, so intent on refusing your gratitude that it comes across as either sheepish or blasé. He busies himself with locking up the store while you clean yourself up (again) in the bathroom. He opens the car door for you before you can open it yourself.

The stick shift is a few years behind, but the console is rigged up to connect to Alban's phone. Before he starts driving, he hands it to you. "You can choose the music."

You thumb through a streaming service before finding a title your recognize from one of your own playlists, and at the first few notes of the song, the car enters motion. It's a quiet, comfortable silence filled up by the song and your directions to your home.

The walk to the konbini is fast, but driving is even faster, and the song barely ends as he pulls up to your home. "You got everything?" He asks.

You nod. "I do. Thanks, Alban."

"It's noth—"

"Oh, quit playing yourself down already." Before you can slip out of your seat, you lay a hand over Alban's as it rests on the stick shift, just like how he comforted you earlier. "No one at work took time out of their day to hear me out, not even my friends. You did. That means something."

"Still!" Alban says. "I wouldn't just ignore you."

"A lot of people would, and did. You're a lot better than you give yourself credit for." You poke his cheek. "Now repeat after me: you're welcome."

The poke makes his face squish up, cheek smushing into the corner of his lips while one eye closes. He blinks, uncertain, as if he entered uncharted territory. He likely has. If it wasn't apparent before, it certainly was by how long it took him to avert his eyes and say the words. “…You’re welcome.”

You squish his cheeks a little more as friendly affection. Barely visible under the overhead light, his face tints pink under the pressure of your hands. “Glad to hear it. I’ll see you later, Alban.”

“Right. Rest well?”

“I will.”

The door shuts and the headlights shine long shadows behind you as you walk away. Alban watches as you pull out your keys. You notice the shining lights only dim out after you’ve stepped inside your humble abode, and the warm feeling rises up again. He made sure you were inside safe and sound before he drove away.

It’s with that warm feeling that you speed through your nighttime routine and fall asleep in your bed.

It returns each time you visit the konbini after that night, too. Alban, in all his selflessness, still insists on giving you even more freebies than you know what to do with.

“Damn, Reader, if you visit even more often, I’ll have to order extra shipments of candies,” he quips as he scans your items—then snatches a king-size snack and slips it into your bag without charging you a cent more.

You snicker. “It’s not like I ask. You’re the one that won’t quit giving me things for free.”

“I’ve got more than enough to go around.”

“But you just said you’d have to order more.”

“How’s work? Still doing the security thing?” He asks.

You roll your eyes to the ceiling and huff not a second later. “Yep, same old, same old. One of my coworkers used the wrong parts on something, so I had to spend my entire shift today disassembling and reassembling it myself.”

"You know what I'm going to say—"

"That it's unfair and stupid?"

"—Among other things, but you're just going to say the pay is too good to leave, aren't you," he finishes.

You focus on the counter rather than Alban's movements. It's been a while since that night he drove you home and the wound has healed, but there's no mistaking the beginnings of a scar at the memory, all puffy-pink as it tries to recover to what once was.

You hate to admit it, but he's right. He quoted something you said word-for-word last week.

"I'm not just predictable, I'm mad," you say. "And tired of being mad."

"Not at anything new, is it?"

You sigh. "Nope. It's more like a lot of little things building up and just whittling me down. Same ol' soul-crushing machine as always."

The cash register dings as Alban places all your items into the bag, and you pay for half of what you should. "There isn't anything keeping you happy or loyal, is there?"

"Not really. It's all miserable, even the other departments." You even laugh bitterly. "I guess the employees get paid so much because there's no budget going into decent HR."

"You know what I'm going to say."

"Don't waste your breath."

"I can't tell you what to do."

"Gotta pay my bills somehow." The receipt inches out. Alban tears it off and slips it into the bag. "I'm looking, but I can't just quit yet. At this point, I don't care what happens to the place, as long as I get paid. Need to finish the security system before moving onto another job."

"I hope someone gives you a better offer soon. Workplace culture included."

"Me too." He offers the bag to you. You take the handles from Alban with crinkles and a skim along his fingertips. "At least I've got nothing planned tonight but binging a TV show over snacks." You jostle the bag, and the many candies inside. "In no small part because of you."

He beams at that, just before wiring his mouth into a thin smile to cover up his happiness. "We're always open! And I'm always here."

"I'm counting on it." That happiness spreads to you like watercolor on paper. "I'll come back soon, Alban."

He sees you off with the good cheer and well-wishes you've come to expect from Alban, and a request to keep out of trouble. Once the crisp white of the konbini's lights fade away into the night as you walk home, the dismal feeling returns.

Maybe you should take his advice and quit while you're ahead. It's no secret this job will kill you one day.

You bite back the thought as soon as it comes to mind. You need the cash. Quitting is tempting, but if you leave now, you won't have enough savings to fall back on.

"Until this commission is over," you mutter under your breath. You'll put in the two-week notice then, once the security project is complete, and that stuck-up client coughs up the high price for all your effort.

Until then, until then, until then. Your mind echoes as you go down the familiar path home, staving off the urge to think any more on it. All that's left for you to do today is watch some shows, relax, and hopefully, get a good night's rest before doing the same thing again tomorrow.

Even though the night in serves as a good distraction, you remember the grind ahead as you tuck yourself into bed, and with it, Alban's wishes for your happiness pushes the harsh thoughts away as you drift off.

As you'd expect, the days ahead are predictably mundane, save for the awful work environment you've become so used to over time. Some days it feels like you're the only competent person in the building. Other days you know it's true.

Which brings you to now. The coworker that sits closest to you left to go file some papers in another office—or take a personal call for the next twenty minutes, it's always a toss up with them—leaving you to your own devices as you work on something that should've been completed earlier this week. Again.

The office you're currently in is built for three at most, though it rarely fits that many. Usually you're by yourself or with another coworker, and now that you're alone, you have the freedom to sigh. You know how these things work, but having to pick up so much slack is just plain exhausting.

The lights go out.

The first thing you think is if the latest updates were saved. Your brain reminds you that the program was on autosave every minute, and you haven't typed in five. It'll be fine.

The next thing is that considering your industry, there's more than a few backup generators. There's no way it would take this long for one of them to kick in and get power back to the building.

Something's wrong. You don't have a clue, but outside your office windows, you can catch glimpses of other workers evacuating. There's no way it could be a natural disaster, and you doubt a fire would cut the lights, but considering how fast the other workers clear out, you aren't staying to find out.

You're one of the last people to leave a personal office, and you presume the last to start moving. The halls twist in the darkness, but you've memorized the layout, and your phone's flashlight guides the way.

The sound of keys on keys jingle behind you. You pivot with a start "Who's there?"

No one responds. Your light reaches a few feet ahead before being swallowed by the darkness. The ceiling boasts some LEDs for detectors, cameras, and the far-off 'EXIT' sign but not much else, and none of them are helpful at the moment.

Something else whooshes ahead, and you turn again, now starting to feel like a fish being circled by a shark.

"This isn't funny," you call out. That was stupid of you. Maybe the job is rotting your brain, and it'll be the reason behind your death, trapped in your shitty office while everyone else evacuates.

With steeled nerves you keep walking, twisting your phone around to get a piece-by-piece view of the hallways. The light bounces off the waxy leaves of a houseplant by a door. The water cooler where you refill your water bottle. Two pointed strikes of orange that shine one-at-a-time as the light flashes.

Cloth covers your mouth before you can scream.

They wire around as the orange comes into focus, now identifiable as two pins in a head full of shaggy hair. The intruder rests a finger on his lips as he shushes you, one green eye and one dark reflecting the light from your phone.

You manage to shake off his grip and hiss. "Alban?"

He blinks before widening his mismatched eyes. "Wh-what are you talking about? I don't know anyone named Alban."

"Oh, cut the crap, you—" You start, but remember the LED lights up on the ceiling. The cameras! You tug on his jacket sleeve as you dive into a corridor hidden from the security cameras, and luckily, he's shocked enough to stumble along. He slips out of your grasp in a matter of seconds, but instead climbs along the walls and hops between structures to obscure himself like a superhero out of a movie.

You push yourself flat against a wall as if it would hide you any further, while Alban clings onto the ceiling and inches down, dangling in midair. A strap is attached to the roof and around his body not unlike climbing gear.

"I'd recognize you anywhere," you say, "and if I didn't before then I definitely did the second you started talking."

Alban looks away. "Oh. Right. I should've expected that."

"Never mind that, what are you doing here? I work here!" You push him lightly, and he sways in air from the force. "Don't tell me you're behind the power outage."

He scratches the back of his head and gives you a coy smile, only half-apologetic, until you push him more. He flails before steadying himself by holding onto your shoulders. "Wait, I had a reason!"

"Uh-huh, and you're going to tell me it right now before I call the cops!"

"Psh, they couldn't catch me even if they tried—" Shove. Alban swivels around aimlessly. "Okay, okay, fine! I'm a phantom thief."

You grab him and glare. "So you decided to target my workplace after hearing me complain about it for eons. Give me one good reason not to twist you so hard we test if motion sickness can result in death."

"I mean, not entirely off?" He says with a sigh. "Okay, hear me out. The konbini isn't exactly a moneymaker. So I steal things here and there, but only from people who don't deserve it. You know, the types that steal their assets, treat everyone like dirt, exploit hard-working, good people... You see where I'm going with this, right?"

"Go on."

"I like to take only a little bit of it for myself, then forward whatever else I find to the original owners, or community projects that would use the cash way better than some hoarder. Which is why I decided to come here. It has an awful rep despite its net worth, and I dunno, it just seems like it sucks more and more of your soul out the longer you work here." Alban frowns. Even upside-down in the air, his concern is heartfelt, as genuine as that day you confided in him.

You can't even say he's wrong, not entirely. He really did listen to all your woes.

"So... I did some research. Didn't like what I saw. I don't think it's news to you, either."

"It's not great, no." You cross your arms. "So you decided to steal from them."

Alban pats down his pockets. Each of them has a hidden zipper, you realize, which must explain how he hasn't dropped any of his loot until he produces it and shows it to you. One by one, he hands you small boxes covered in secure foam. Your eyes widen as you open them. Each is a different minuscule computer part. "You recognize these."

"How could I not? These are upcoming designs. Not entirely complete, but once they are, they'll be gold standard. Maybe even more."

"Exactly. I did some rifling around in the offices, too. They'll be sold at an insane markup from the true estimated value once they're released to the public." Alban bites the inside of his cheek. "Most of the information and programming has been ripped off from programmers that either didn't consent or were severely underpaid."

"You're telling me. And the employees here will be earning pennies once it goes public."

He nods, serious as the grave. You've never seen him this dead-set on something but you recognize the blazing ambition in his eyes, and the curve over his mouth that forms when he's dedicated. He set his hand over the boxes you hold. "If you really want to return them, I won't stop you. I just want to do the right thing."

The packages aren't much bigger than jewelry boxes, and just as light, but holding them feels like handling priceless masterpieces. After all, they are.

"Why?" You ask.

"Because I trust you."

"Even after I spun you around like a piñata."

"It takes more than that to knock me out," Alban says. "Besides, even if you did, I wouldn't regret it. I think I'd endure a lifetime's worth of it if that's what it took for you to know how much I care."

You readjust your grip on the parts as Alban turns his head away again. "That sounded wrong. I mean, you work for them, not me. If this feels wrong, then you can call it off and I'll leave without anything."

He cares for me. You squeeze your lips together in deep thought. "You think so highly of me, even though I'm just a wreck that has a shitty 9 to 5 and mooches off your konbini food."

"Not a wreck," he corrects, voice tilted high in protest. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You're such a handful." You present the boxes out and away from you. "Put them back in your pockets. There's the camera outside that I pulled you away from, and a few others in each corner of this floor."

Dumbfounded, Alban gingerly takes them just as you start doodling on a piece of paper. "You're just giving them back to me?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? There's only so much time before any authorities show up." You wait until Alban secures the parts away before pressing the paper flush against his upside-down chest while you stand at eye-level with him. "Not my best blueprint, but you can figure out the best route to sneak out from with that map I just drew up."

Alban stays still in the air, but you let go of the map as it rests under the collar of his jacket. He fumbles for the paper, narrowly avoiding any stray hits to your body due to the proximity.

While he's occupied, your eyes have finally adjusted to the darkness as well as how close you are to him. He doesn't notice you staring at all, nor how his cheeks are a rosier tone than the rest of his skin.

He manages to nab the paper and holds it back over his heart, where you pressed it. When he makes eye contact with you, you see to his core; both the smarmy phantom thief that infiltrated your office, and the understanding, generous dork that works nights at the konbini.

Your hand brushes with his as you take the cloth of his jacket collar. "It didn't sound wrong at all." In the dark, he tenses, gloved hands clutching the paper tighter while that blush grows into a muted red.

You drum up the courage he's shown you time and time again as you lean in. The momentum fuels you as he reciprocates, paper forgotten as it flutters to the floor in favor of holding you tighter as his lips brush along yours.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bonus.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You let go of Alban's collar, all lightheaded and woozy after a long-awaited kiss. It breaks off, but his arms are still tangled around your back in a loose hug. The dopey grin on his face is full of emotion; surprise, adoration, and a shred of greed like that wasn't enough for him.

"You need to get back to business," you say, breathless.

"Uh-huh?"

"And I should go before people think I went missing."

"Oh, duh. Yeah. Yeah, you should." Alban shakes his head to jostle him out of his stupor. He raises one limb after another as the cord retracts. "I'll be—ack!"

He flops face-down to the ground with a yelp. Then a groan.

You flinch. "Alban! Are you okay?"

"Ughhh."

Expecting the worst, you crouch down and hold his arm as he rises. "Ow, that hurt... No damage done, though."

"If you say so." You dust off his shoulders as he recovers. Sure enough, there aren't any scratches nor bruises immediately forming, and the concern turns into amusement as he presses his lips together. "Alban, your face is so red."

"Wh—no, it's not."

You pinch his cheeks. His brows are drawn together, all shy and flustered. "Oh, I can't wait to see what this looks like in daylight."

"It's just because I was hanging upside-down! Blood rushes to your head!"

"Yup, right after falling flat on your face."

He wiggles out of your grasp and up on his feet in no time. "You're teasing me and I won't stand for it. Bye!"

And with that, he bolts out of the room, grappling off the walls like a parkour artist until he becomes one with the darkness.

You watch him until he disappears, but you've got places to be, too. You rifle into your pocket where your phone and wallet rest.

That is, until you realize your wallet is nowhere to be found.

You frantically search your pockets until you realize the first one you checked, the one your wallet rested in, had a card inside that wasn't there before.

It's one of the generic business cards your company provides, likely lifted from another worker's office, but along the blank white cardstock, someone had drawn a cat paw alongside a note.

"You just got mugged by the robber! (But visit tonight to get it back.)"

There's a scrawl in the corner, scratched out to the point you can't tell what it was, but a few lines against the scribble makes you think the writer doodled something.

You'll have to ask him later.

"Tonight," you say out loud. It's been a long day, and like you said, you need to get back to the rest of the employees.

But after that, the workday is sure to be cut short as the higher-ups manage the police, and now you have plans.

And you could do without a 9 to 5 looming over you for a while.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊mysteriawrites

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #4402 writes #here's hoping the tags are hidden enough so they won't spoil anything before you click read more #noctyx x reader #noctyx #alban knox #alban knox x reader #alban knox fluff #alban knox angst

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electraslight · 1 year

Note

I care about ur Bevin headcannon I would love to hear

YES i finally get to yell abt these two, its my fav ship in the series idk why people arent more into it. Fanart is supplied as usual and i have some evidence-ey screenshots under the cut, mostly bc i want to share them w SOMEONE other than my friend blue. Enjoy my ramblings

-kevin is dating both ben and gwen, gwen and his relationship being a lot more outward and public and ben a more private relationship, they only ever kiss or hold hands when its just the two of them or (rarely) when gwen is around, partially bc of bens fame and his own hangups about liking men and partially bc when they are romantic they r extremely vulnerable with each other and thats the sort of thing they wouldnt want anyone else to see.

-(quoting from a discord dm w my friend) ben and kevin violence is something that if u saw it in a painting or a movie it would be rly profound and aweinspiring. in real life its also the same, but it feels so much like intruding when ur actually watchingbc kevin and ben have all their emotions about each other in v short bursts, theyll bottle them up 4 an extended period of time and then have som e massive cataclysmic event when it bubbles to the surface. there r literally no continual emotional moments between them like kevin and gwen who have contunious small emotions abt each other, kevin and ben will hang out 4 months at a time and then one day just start hitting each other, which is in a way a part of the romance

-in omniverse theres a scene where its shown that 12 year old kevin is in possession of a photo of ben that is suspiciously well worn, it has rips and stains and has been crumpled up and refolded a couple times. I like to think he kept that photo, whether to use as a beacon of hate or chew on and cry who knows.

-ben and kevin dont give a shit about what form the other takes, the only time ben has ever blushed about a guy is when mutant kevin grabbed him in the rooters arc and kevin is around alien versions of ben every day and doesnt bat an eye. This is why i think that once kevin and ben get together kevin makes a game about kissing all of his aliens (indiscriminatley. Even if they dont have mouths) he makes a scoring system and writes reviews on how good the experience was in glitter gel pen and makes a ranking list of his favorites. Stinkfly sweeps the vote, shocking everybody. Ben would rank kissing kevins mutations but only 2 out of 5 would even consider it before turning him into pink mist so he just sticks with what he knows.

- ben and kevin get married when theyre older and gwen stays in girlfriend status (mostly bc she knows that ben has a much shorter lifespan than her and kevin and she wants to give him the happiest time she can while hes still there) and they all live in a mansion the size of the white house. Kai comes by once a month to keep kenny happy (he still thinks shes his bio mom even after theyve told him multiple times she was just a donor. Gwen says he gets his delusions from ben). Ben and kevin like to sit on the 500 foot long porch and throw rocks at passerby and snuggle. Kevin is so happy he giggles mindlessly to himself in public, scaring strangers. He tries to get them to look at pictures of his family but this only further creeps them out.

-kevin finds the most random shit ben does extremely charming. hed look at him picking his boogers and eating them and he thinks in his head i need this guy so much. ben finishes a rubix cube not even very fast and kevins like wow. cool. do you like emos.ben is charmed by kevin in the same way. he sees kevin use the toilet brush to scratch an itch on his back and hes like fuck oh fuck oh fuck

I have more i prommy i just cant think of them rn, i will make more if im able. 4 now please have my collection of bevin screenshots under the cut. Spread the word my disciples. fair warning there are a lot

#ben 10 #ben tennyson #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 alien force #kevin levin #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 classic #ben 10 uaf #ben ten #bevin #ben 10 headcannon

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multifandoms27-blog · 7 months

Note

Yu-Gi-Oh dub continuity please. (You can smoosh DSoD dub into the timeline if you want to. I usually do.) Aro ace female reader, neurotypical but weird anyway. (I may be an introvert who spends hours alone by choice and doesn’t have a huge social circle, but I was born to be a ridiculous anime character who dresses flamboyantly, has a sense of the dramatic, and wants to impress people. It’s certainly how I try to live in Real Life.) Reader quickly lets go of past irritations, and is more interested in honesty than not getting her feelings hurt. Smart, and self-teaches herself whatever skills seem interesting or useful to her. Rather childish in a lot of ways even though she is an adult, with a real sense of wonder. Rarely responds to sarcasm with more sarcasm. Reader is also a decent duelist, but not at Kaiba’s level. Physically she’s three inches taller than Yugi, with a very slight build, no makeup, long straight hair past her waist, boyish posture and movement, and a great sense of balance and understanding of moving her own body. Not a lot of physical strength though, she can probably only do about 10 push-ups.

Reader always calls Kaiba by his last name. Kaiba calls Reader by her first name.

Set after the run of the show. Reader and Kaiba have become friends. (Mokuba and Yugi secretly worked a lot behind the scenes for years doing friend-matchmaking in order for the friendship to materialize. 😋) They have similar interests, figured out how to communicate well (although perhaps more brusquely than most,) trust one another, and each believes the other to also be uninterested in romance/sex (which is highly reassuring when you suspect all your friends and relations will one day fall in love and accidentally push you out of their life.)

I’d love some writing with excitement, adventure, trouble, or danger! (If you want to throw in some angst that would be fine as well.) Perhaps the reader and Kaiba end up in a bad situation which is quickly flying out of their control. One of the fun things about Yu-Gi-Oh is the fact this could stem from any number of absolutely bonkers reasons! Maybe they were abducted by aliens to be sold to other aliens as “important Earthlings you can enslave to show off or feel more important.” Or maybe a rival company decided to get quite cutthroat and try to take over Kaiba Corp with literal force. Did they get accidentally transported to a fantasy dimension where they drew the ire of an evil leader? Or maybe an eviler Gozaburo shows up from another dimension and tries to force Kaiba to join him in a multi-dimensional conquest, with the explicit threat that if he doesn’t help, then Kaiba and those he cares about can spend their lives firmly under Gozaburo’s thumb, serving him in much less enjoyable capacities. You can use any scenario that seems fun to write! (You can also include other characters like Yugi, Joey, Mokuba, etc. if it feels like the story needs it. I would love to be friends with any of the good guy Yu-Gi-Oh characters.)

Uh, silly thing, but I don’t like profanity, so it would be great if you could not use any when writing this particular request. (It’s definitely possible to write scary, threatening, creepy dialogue without it, so I hope it doesn’t inconvenience you too much.) Sorry!

And please don’t write the two main characters as having any interest in romance/sex.

Some violence is okay though. Even the dub has a lot of implied violence and brutality. Just, don’t go overboard into R rated territory.

Hope the formatting isn’t too bad.

If you have any questions, or would prefer I send in a different request, or would like me to send in this request again with different formatting, or would like to tell me you are refusing my request, feel free to DM me.

P.S. Do you have a Ko-fi or something similar?

Hiya Dei! No, I don't have anything like that. Maybe I should set up one though?

So sorry this took so long to write, but its finally here! I really do hope you enjoy it!

Edit: Fixed some POV errors and added the opposing companies' name.

Content: Platonic! Seto Kaiba x fem!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping

Notes: I really enjoyed writing this!! It was like writing an episode of Yugioh and I've always wanted to do that :3 This turned out to be 13 pages long, so yippe!! I had a little funny joke at the end here lol

• ───────────────── •

After graduating Domino high, it’s like everybody hit the ground running with their dreams. Tea moved to America to pursue dancing, Joey and Yugi started working at Solomon’s shop, Bakura left Japan with his father to travel, Tristan began working at his fathers company, Duke left Domino City to spread Dungeon Dice Monsters around…and then that left you and Kaiba.

Kaiba needed someone who could watch Mokuba, but someone he could trust, and someone he could keep close. Joey and Tristan and Tea were out of the question, Duke definitely no, he would be caught dead before letting Mokuba around Bakura, and Yugi can’t keep anybody safe.

So he decided to hire you. A week after graduation, Kaiba approached you with the job position. You were thinking about your future anyway, figuring out whether or not you wanted to go to college, or go straight into the workforce, or do both. When Kaiba laid out the job position for you, you practically jumped on the idea.

“If you can’t handle this job position now, then back out of it while you still can.” Kaiba teased, though to a bystander, he was just insulting you due to his lack of a smile.

“I can handle it, don’t go doubting me just yet, Kaiba.” You jabbed back, also without a smile.

Finally, Kaiba allowed a small smirk to form. “That’s what I like to hear. Come with me, we’ll start the paperwork ASAP, and you start tomorrow.”

It was hardly much work compared to the pay you got from Kaiba. Your job was just to keep close to Mokuba and make sure any shady characters got dealt with. The rest of your time could be spent with Kaiba in his office, or doing something with Mokuba. It truly was a dream - you got to be near your best friend and get closer to the younger Kaiba brother.

So far, no shady characters have gotten past your watchful eye. But about six months after taking the job position, everything flipped upside down.

• ───────────────── •

A new ride and section of the arcade was built into Kaibaland, and Mokuba practically begged you to take him. You agreed, and now you were trapped in the heat with Mokuba and a few other security guards. The guards did a good job at keeping bystanders away from grabbing you or Mokuba, or just getting too close in general. You had to get used to paparazzi, but after the last three years with Yugi and your old friend group, that wasn’t a hard transition.

Mokuba stopped your train of thought by tugging your arm. “(Y/n), (Y/n) look! There’s the new rollercoaster! Can we go on it?!”

The heat was making you nauseous and dizzy. While you wanted nothing more than to go on with him, you knew you had to pass it up so you wouldn’t completely ruin his day. “Sorry, Moki. I need some water, I’m not feeling too good. But I’m sure one of the guards would be happy to go on with you.”

Mokuba pouted, but nodded. “Okay. But can we play games together in the arcade?”

“Absolutely.” You grin, patting the boy's head.

One of the guards, Bishop, volunteered to get on the ride with him. You approved it, knowing you could trust Bishop. He had been with Kaiba for a couple years now, and has always carried out his orders flawlessly. Another guard, Keith, went to grab you a bottle of water. You sat down on a nearby bench and watched as Mokuba got on the ride with Bishop, waved to him, then he was off. Leaning back on the bench, you felt like you were able to relax for the next few minutes. You closed your eyes, knowing the guards will help protect you while Mokuba was on the ride.

More than a few minutes passed, and the sounds of screaming from the roller coaster had stopped. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see if Mokuba had gotten off. To your horror, the ride wasn’t moving. Nobody was getting off or on. Part of the ride was going through tunnels, and since the ride itself couldn’t be seen, you guessed it was in one of those tunnels. Scrambling to get up and run towards the ride, you approached the fear-stricken teen girl trying to operate said ride.

“What happened? Why is the ride stuck?”

“A-ah! Miss (Y/n)! I-I don’t know, the wheels stopped and I can’t get it to work!” The poor girl was shaking, she was afraid she was going to lose her job.

Looking up at the broken up tunnels on the tracks, you had no idea which one the ride was in. Instead, you turned to the girl. “Which tunnel did the coaster go in before it stopped?”

“That one…” The girl pointed to the highest one, before her voice trailed off.

You looked up and saw a helicopter approaching the ride, one that didn’t look like a Kaiba Corp one. You immediately grew anxious. “Keith, Cole, Sam! Code: Mocha!”

“Yes ma’am!” The three men yelled in unison before swiftly taking out walkie talkies to inform other guards of the situation both on and off Kaibaland.

However, it was too late. Two men dropped from the helicopter and - presumably - cut a hole into the tunnel. Your heart rate picked up, and you foolishly tried to mess with the controls one more time, hoping and praying that it would work and you could get Mokuba back safe.

The teen girl next to you gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. You snapped your head back up to see the two men - now with an additional third man - rising back into the helicopter holding a struggling Mokuba.

“Mokuba!!” You screamed, banging your fists against the control panel.

There was nothing you could do. The three men got Mokuba into the helicopter and flew off, then suddenly the coaster began to move, the screams of the other passengers picking back up. Tears pricked your eyes and your head hung low. “Mokuba…”

• ───────────────── •

You sat in Seto’s office, eyes downcast as you informed him of what happened to Mokuba. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and you were afraid he was going to have an angry outburst. He had every right to of course, you just didn’t want something to hit you. Seto took a deep breath before standing.

“You were at the bottom of the coaster?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“And Mokuba was with Bishop?” Seto asked.

“Yeah.”

“I have an idea of what happened then. Come with me, (Y/n).” He grabbed his suitcase, closed his laptop and shoved it in before moving briskly past you.

You got up and quickly followed. You didn’t know if Kaiba was mad, but you decided it would be better to follow than ask questions. Kaiba stopped at Lisa’s desk - his secretary - and informed her to cancel any afternoon plans he had, and have his chopper ready, before continuing his strut throughout the building. They headed for the elevator, and once Kaiba pushed the highest button, you finally began to ask questions.

“Who do you think took Mokuba?”

“Bishop’s old company - Knightly Rook, a rival of Kaiba Corp in the business world for a little while now. But I never thought the company would stoop to this. Bishop was pretty loyal to them, and I had wondered why he quit. Now I know he never really quit.” Kaiba glared at the wall.

“No way…you really think Bishop was in on the kidnapping do you?” (Y/n) asked in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth almost gaping.

Although, it made sense. There had been a third man to join them after Mokuba was caught. Bishop hadn’t come off the ride. Your eyes fell to the ground and you turned your head away. “I’m so stupid…I’m so sorry, Kaiba. I thought he would be safe…”

“This isn’t your fault. It’s mine for not looking into him more.” Kaiba spoke, with an air of irritation in his voice. “We’re going to fix this, one way or another.”

You look up at him. “You mean…?”

Kaiba looks down at you and nods. “We’re going to duel them for Mokuba.”

“Wait, I don’t have my deck-” You objected before Kaiba placed a hand on your shoulder, and the other hand offered you your deck. “Oh.”

“You keep leaving it in my office. Your cards will get bent if you don’t put them in a case.” Kaiba made a mental note to get you one. Maybe he’d get you one with designs of your favorite card on there.

“Are we going to do a double team?” You asked.

“Most likely. The CEO and his assistant are close, and are almost never seen apart.” Kaiba explained. “Of course, I trust you’ll keep up with me during this duel.”

“Yes, Kaiba.” You nod, putting your deck away securely.

The elevator doors opened and they both stepped out into the gleaming sun. It had been an hour since Mokuba was kidnapped, but it felt like it was even hotter outside than before. Or maybe it was your body trying to get used to the fast shift between the heavily air conditioned Kaiba Corp building, and the scorching heat outside. The blades of Seto’s chopper were just beginning to start up, and he continued to stride towards it. After you both sat down and secured yourselves in your seats, Kaiba placed his briefcase on his lap and opened it.

“Can you hold this for me?” Seto asked.

“Sure.” You nodded, grabbing his computer.

He then lifted the bottom of his briefcase to reveal all of his cards. “I’ll allow you to pick ten to boost yourself in this fight. I can’t have you lagging behind.”

You gave him a pointed look. “I can handle myself with my deck.”

“Fine. Five cards, take it or leave it.” Seto moved the briefcase for you to get a better look at the cards.

Grumbling under your breath, you looked over some monster, trap and magic cards before choosing five you figured would benefit you. “Thank you, Kaiba.”

He only hummed, and began assembling his own deck. You saw him slip the three Blue Eyes into the deck of 40 cards, and you cracked a smile, but didn’t say anything, and the smile faded as soon as it showed up. You were nervous. For Mokuba’s safety and wellbeing, for your job, for your friendship with Kaiba. Were you done at Kaiba Corp for this? You hoped not.

Once Seto was done assembling his deck, he turned towards you and noticed your nervous look. He was nervous too, for Mokuba’s safety. But you seemed like you were worrying about a lot more. “...something on your mind?”

“Oh nothing, just going to gamble a child’s life over a children’s card game, what else is new.” You spoke sarcastically.

Kaiba understood. It was a lot for you to take in - before, either he would get Mokuba back himself or you had Yugi and his friends there to help you. Now, you’re Kaiba’s only backup. “I suppose you could put it that way.”

“How long until we get to this company?”

“A few hours. It’s on the other end of Japan. They’ll get there before we do.” Seto explained, looking out his own window.

“What do they want with Mokuba?” You asked.

“Probably something to do with me ignoring their requests for a meeting.” Kaiba spoke dismissively. “I doubt they’d purposely harm Mokuba if they ever want a shot at being in my good graces. Though now, that ship has already sailed.”

You looked back at him. “Kaiba, what happens if we lose?”

Kaiba glanced at you and huffed. “I don’t lose. And just because you’re some second rate duelist doesn’t mean you can go doubting yourself now too.”

Second rate? You thought to yourself. It was a step up from Joey, you supposed. “Thanks, Kaiba.”

“Whatever.” Kaiba shrugged and turned away.

As much as Kaiba acted mean and teased you, you knew by now that it was good fun. He wouldn’t keep you around if he actually hated you, much less let you use some of his cards and duel side by side with him. Kaiba had slowly become an older brother to you, and Mokuba had become a younger brother. You had hoped you’d become a sister to them, if not then a close friend. You watched the world go by as the helicopter flew to the Knightly Rook building. You closed your eyes and decided to rest for a moment before you’d have to hit the ground running.

• ───────────────── •

The helicopter landed and Kaiba shook you awake. The doors opened and once you both stepped out, you were met by a glammed up couple surrounded by guards. The man wore a mahogany suit, looked older (about his 50’s), had a cane that was likely for show, and had a dark grin on his face. Next to him was a woman who looked younger (about her 30’s) with a matching mahogany dress and a white fur shawl that went around her shoulders and down her left arm. On her left hand was a big shiny diamond. The woman laughed.

“Darling, you think they’re here to pick up dear Moki?”

“Don’t call him that!” You yelled, Seto put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“Where is he?” He asked.

The man spoke. “Follow us, and you shall see.”

“And if we want to stay up here?” You asked.

“Then I guess Moki will cease to be~” The woman giggled, causing your eyebrow to twitch.

“We’ll follow you.” Seto glared at the couple.

“Excellent!” The man exclaimed, clapping his hands twice.

The guards formed a group around you and Kaiba, forcing you two closer to the couple. The man stuck his hand out to shake with Kaiba's. "Reginald O'Malley, nice to finally meet you, Seto Kaiba."

"Can't say the same." Kaiba reluctantly shook his hand, causing Reginald to laugh.

The woman stuck her hand out to you, and you swore her ring almost blinded you. You hesitantly shook it.

"I'm Sasha O'Malley." The glammed out woman grinned.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." You responded, not wanting to touch her any more than you already had to.

Reginald led you and Kaiba inside. The building didn't look like a company building at all. The walls were a golden yellow, with redwood flooring. The windows gave you a nice view over the city. Wasn't this supposed to be the corporate building of this company? Where were the workers? And come to think of it, where was the pilot of your ride here?

Reginald led you over to the sizable fireplace. "Now friends, I'm sure you're wondering why I've gathered you all here."

"Not really." Seto narrowed his eyes at him. "Just get to it, Reginald. I don't have all day."

The man chuckled before pulling a picture frame to the left, and the fireplace began to turn. It revealed stairs leading down. Was that where he was keeping Mokuba? Was that where his workers were?

"Come my friends, for a duel." Reginald grinned and led them down the stairs.

You clenched your jaw in irritation, but took a deep breath and cooperated, following the couple down the stairs. Seto was behind you. At the bottom of the stairs, there was a gigantic arena fitted with four seats. So this was going to be a double team duel.

"Big brother! Big sister!" Mokuba yelled from his cage, dangling in the air.

"Mokuba!" You and Kaiba yelled in unison.

"Beat us in a duel, and we give the boy back. But if we win, we take Kaiba Corp. Deal?" Reginald grinned, holding his hand out.

Seto growled before taking his hand into a bone crushing grip. "Deal."

• ───────────────── •

The duel was seemingly nearing an end. Sasha was the lowest count with 500 life points left, though that was to be expected. You only had monsters in your deck. Reginald was a little harder to beat, and was at 2300 life points. You and Seto were doing good, Seto with 3700 life points and you with 3000.

It was your turn, so you draw. Mirror force.

"I play this card face down, and my Luster Dragon attacks Sasha head on!"

Sasha didn't have any monsters on the field, with Kaiba destroying the last one last turn with his Battle Ox. Luster Dragon has 1900 attack points, so Sasha's points drop to zero. She whines to her husband from across the arena.

"Darling, I lost! Please win for me, I want that company!"

"Of course dear." Reginald nods and draws a card. "I summon Blackeyes, the Plunder Patrol Seaguide in attack mode! Now, I sacrifice him to summon Wattaildragon in attack mode!"

You knew that card. Wattaildragon had 2500 attack points. So while it couldn't hurt Seto, it could still hurt you. And Reginald knew that. "Wattaildragon! Attack (Y/n)'s Luster Dragon!"

The dragon let out a roar before preparing to attack. You acted surprised for a moment before you smirked, catching Reginald off guard. "You forgot about my face down card. You activated my trap - mirror force!"

The card lifted face up to show mirror force, which made the Wattaildragon's attack bounce off and hit it, destroying it completely. Reginald had no more monsters on the field.

"Darling that is not what I wanted you to do!" Sasha yelled but Reginald ignored her.

"Kaiba!" You called.

"Right. Blue eyes! Attack Reginald head on, and finish this duel once and forever!" Kaiba yelled.

The Blue Eyes let out a roar before firing a beam straight at Reginald. His life points had dropped to zero. You and Seto shared an accomplished look and a thumbs up. Then Seto's phone rang.

"Well it's as I expected. Reginald here isn't a rich man. In fact, he's been committing thirty years worth of financial fraud." Seto gave the glammed out couple a dark grin. "You're both going away for a long time."

• ───────────────── •

It turns out that the pilot doubled as an infiltrator. Seto had planned to duel the couple as a distraction either way. He had managed to get all of Reginald's statements and aliases and fraudulent checks. Police surrounded the building, and both Reginald and Sasha were taken away in cuffs, with an added charge of kidnapping. Their guards, along with Bishop, got taken away too.

Mokuba ran up to Seto and (Y/n), hugging them both. "I knew you guys would come for me! That was an awesome duel!"

"Thanks, Moki." You smiled, ruffling his hair causing him to laugh. "We're just glad you're alright."

Seto nodded in agreement. Mokuba grinned up at them. "Well...for being kidnapped and all, you know how you guys can make it up to me?"

"Therapy?" Seto and you spoke together.

"No silly, ice cream and duel monsters!" Mokuba threw his hands up excitedly.

You and Seto looked at each other before laughing. "Sure Mokuba, sure."

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

#seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #kaiba brothers #platonic seto kaiba x reader #platonic #yugioh #yugioh duel monsters #ygo #kaiba mokuba #kaiba seto

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