#like…..four hours? yeesh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stewpidcheescatarinabluu · 13 days ago

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Synopsis: You were the school’s loudest troublemaker, and she was the cold, untouchable student council president.But after one reckless mistake and six hours of silence beside her, something shifts. So you keep showing up — with quiet apologies, warm hashbrowns, and unspoken truths. And slowly, she lets you in. You never meant to fall for her. But maybe, just maybe, in the stillness between your chaos and her pressure, you both find something softer to hold on to.

Word Count: 4,441

Kim Minjeong X Male Reader

a/n: I had time since my class got cancelled due to inclement weather, while waiting for my friends to come pick me up, I was thinking of some good prose to work around and I realized that Class President X Troublemaker is such a cute dynamic, so enjoy this! Love you all so much

“Hey,” you leaned toward your seatmate, whispering,

“you think our bald teacher still uses shampoo since he’s left out?”

They stifled a laugh—

but the door slammed open.

“Y/N! OFFICE. NOW!”

You groaned.

“Ugh, alright, miss.”

Your seatmate gave you a look.

“What did you do this time?”

You shrugged.

“Might be the time I turned on all the fire extinguishers on floor 9… or when I poured every soap into one cubicle.”

“You did what and what?!”

You walked out like nothing.

Your teacher was already waiting.

“So, miss. How long?”

“Six hours.”

She crossed her arms.

“Minjeong’s monitoring you.”

Your brows lifted.

“The student council president? That beautifully cute one?”

“Stop it, Y/N,” she muttered, but she was smiling behind her hand.

“You’ve got to focus. Your parents work hard to give you an education. It’s a privilege, y’know?”

“Oh, I’m government suggested.”

“You mean the government pays your tuition?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“My dad’s dead. Drugs. You know how that ends.”

Her face shifted.

“And my mom followed.

I mean—if your husband’s gone, why wouldn’t you follow, right?”

You smiled.

But it didn’t reach your eyes.

She sighed softly.

“Go spend your time in detention.

Call me if you need anything.”

The detention doors creaked open. “Hey, president!” you grinned, arms wide as you flopped into the seat across from her.

Minjeong barely glanced up from her clipboard. “Y/N, right?” Her tone was flat, clipped.

You leaned forward, chin in hand. “Yes, pres! Insta orrr Snapchat? I take iMessage too.”

She didn’t blink. “I’m not interested.”

You clicked your tongue. “Well, I am! Anyway, pleasure to spend five hours with you.”

Thirty minutes in, you sighed dramatically and dragged your chair two seats away. “So, Pres, how’s life for you?”

Nothing.

You raised both hands. “No answer? Yeesh.”

Minjeong didn’t even look up. “Focus on that paper. Write your incident report, troublemaker.”

You saluted lazily. “Will do, love—I mean babe—I mean Minjeong.”

Her jaw tightened. “Don’t call me Minjeong.”

“Harsh much?” you mumbled, twirling your pen.

Two hours later, you spun halfway in your seat, legs bouncing. “Hey, Pres, you think we’re made from apes or stars? ’Cause you shine way too much for me.”

She blinked slowly, unimpressed.

“I mean, like, evolution or cosmic atoms?”

“I’m not a scientist.”

You groaned and dropped your head on the desk. “Come on!!!”

Four hours in, you rested your head on your folded arms. “Do you do anything fun, other than running events and studying?”

Minjeong scribbled something, calm as ever. “Both are fun, if you look at it the right way.”

You raised a finger weakly. “Alright… I like skateboarding. And being happy.”

“Good for you,” she said without looking up.

Five hours later, you stood up with a loud stretch, arms overhead. “Finally!!! Bye, President Minjeong, it’s been a great five hours with you!”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

You winked on your way out. “Kidding! Love ya. Take care~

You were barely five steps into detention when you threw your arms up. “Surprise! Back at it again.”

Minjeong didn’t even look up from her desk. “What is it this time?”

You flopped into the same chair from last time, grinning like it was a reunion.

“I may or may not have written ‘FREE MORNING HASHBROWNS’ all over the cafeteria walls.”

She blinked slowly. “In red permanent marker?”

“Artistic emphasis, thank you very much.”

—

She sighed through her nose and scribbled something on her clipboard.

“You really don’t get tired of this, do you?”

You shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Especially with you here, President Sunshine.”

Her pen stopped. Just for a second.

—

Thirty minutes in, you leaned your chair back dangerously far. “So. No free hashbrowns today, huh?”

She didn’t respond.

You smiled, watching her focused face. “I’m starting to think you like these little dates.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, eyes still on the report.

—

Two hours later.

You let out the loudest yawn possible, arms stretched like wings. “Pres, I’m dying.”

“Good,” she muttered. “Less energy for destruction.”

You pouted. “Cruel. I thought we were bonding.”

“Last week, you called me babe.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t fail me for it. Growth!”

—

Four hours. You were slumped on the table, doodling on your incident report.

“Minjeong, if I swore off crimes for hashbrowns, would you give me a second chance?”

She paused. Looked at you. For once, really looked.

“You’d still do it,” she said. “You’d just call it a ‘misunderstood social movement.’”

You grinned. “Exactly. You get me.”

—

Five hours later, you stood up, stretching again. “Well, another successful detention. You gonna miss me?”

“Dreadfully.” Deadpan.

You saluted. “Love ya as always. Think of me when the hashbrowns hit.”

“Y/N.”

You turned.

“…Don’t write on the walls again.”

A pause.

“…Especially not in Comic Sans.”

You laughed all the way out the door.

You were used to the creak of the detention door by now.

But today felt different.

Different faces.

Loud, slouched boys in uniforms, laughing like they owned the room.

They didn’t even glance your way.

But Minjeong did.

Barely.

A flick of her eyes, sharp and guarded—

like she already knew she was in for hell.

You dropped your bag beside your usual chair.

“Guess we’re expanding the guest list,” you muttered.

—

The moment the teacher stepped out, the shift was instant.

“Prez got legs for days,” one guy whistled low. “Bet she’s hiding more than school rules in that skirt.”

Another snorted. “You think she’s ever kissed anyone? Bet she’s all bark. Tight little mouth, though.”

Laughter. High fives.

You glanced at her.

Minjeong sat frozen.

Back straight, pen hovering just above her clipboard.

Not writing. Not blinking.

Just enduring.

—

“Hey, President,” a guy leaned over her desk. Way too close. “Bet you’d grade us better if we took you out. Ever been to a motel, huh?”

Her eyes flicked up—just once.

Not fear.

But a sharp, wounded kind of pride.

You stood. Slowly.

“Alright. That’s enough.”

—

The room stilled.

You walked forward, past the desks, not smiling.

“I may be a troublemaker,” you said quietly, voice steady,

“but I don’t lack a heart.”

They laughed. Nervous now. “Damn, what’s this? Her little guard dog?”

You tilted your head.

“I break rules, not people.”

You stepped between him and her desk.

“And definitely not girls trying to do their job.”

The guy tensed. “Relax, it’s a joke—”

“She didn’t laugh.”

You leaned in closer. “But you can cry later if you want.”

The tension cracked, heavy and thick.

No one said another word.

—

The teacher eventually returned.

Too late.

Too quiet.

You sat down beside Minjeong.

Not saying anything.

Not needing to.

She didn’t move.

But her hands uncurled from the edge of her clipboard.

Slowly.

—

The hours passed in silence.

Until the clock struck five.

She stood up, gathering her things with practiced precision.

Still not looking at you.

Still stiff.

But her voice came out soft. Measured.

“…Thank you.”

You shrugged. “Didn’t do it for thanks.”

A pause.

“I did it because no one else was going to.”

She looked at you, then. Really looked.

And for the first time—

her eyes weren’t cold.

Just tired.

And a little open.

“You’re still a pain,” she said, voice quieter than before.

You smiled. “Yeah, but I’m your pain now, aren’t I?”

She didn’t answer.

But this time,

she walked beside you as you left

The door creaked open. Fluorescent lights buzzed above.

She didn’t look up right away.

Then—

“Detention?” Her voice was sharper than usual, but it faltered halfway through.

“At this late of an hour?”

She finally looked up.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You raised your hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not here to cause trouble.”

You stepped closer, slower than usual.

“No detention today. I just… visited.”

She stared at you like you were something she didn’t have the energy to fight.

“You visited?” she asked, voice flat.

You nodded, sliding into the seat beside her like it was routine. “Yeah. I figured… it’s kinda hard being alone most of the time, right?”

She went back to scribbling, eyes fixed on the paper in front of her. “No. It isn’t.”

But you saw it.

That small hesitation. The way her hand tensed slightly around the pen.

“You’re lying,” you said quietly.

Her pen stopped. Just for a moment.

But she didn’t deny it.

You reached into your jacket pocket and placed a paper napkin between you.

A still-warm, slightly greasy hashbrown inside.

“I got these from the principal earlier,” you said. “Guess I’ve been too much lately. Called me in to ‘talk about my behavior.’ Then gave me food.”

You smiled, just a little. “I think I broke him.”

Minjeong stared at the hashbrown like it didn’t belong in this room.

In her world.

You nudged it closer. “Too much for me to finish. Figured… you might need it more.”

For a while, she didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Then she reached out, slow and unsure, and took it.

Not looking at you. Not thanking you.

But she ate it.

And that was enough.

—

You leaned back in your chair, arms behind your head.

“I’ll leave soon. Just thought I’d stop by. This place feels less awful with you in it, y’know?”

She didn’t reply.

But she didn’t ask you to leave either.

And in Minjeong language—

That meant something.

The room had gone still.

Not quiet like tension—

Quiet like exhaustion.

Minjeong sat at her desk, fingers faintly stained with ink, the empty hashbrown wrapper folded perfectly in front of her.

You hadn’t spoken for a while.

Neither had she.

Then—

very softly—

“I don’t hate you, you know.”

You glanced over. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She gave the tiniest huff. Almost a laugh.

Then she sat back in her chair, spine still straight like she didn’t know how to relax.

“I just… don’t have time to be soft. Or distracted.”

Her voice was quiet. Not harsh.

She looked ahead—not at you.

“My father has… high hopes for me.”

The pen in her hand tapped the desk once, then stopped.

She was choosing her words. Like always.

But this time, she wasn’t building a wall—she was trying not to fall through one.

“He gave up a lot. For me to be here. For this uniform. This position.”

She motioned to the nameplate on her table like it weighed her down.

“This… performance,” she said, gesturing vaguely around the room, “it’s the only way I know how to pay him back.”

A pause.

She swallowed.

“I can’t afford to mess up. Not when he wakes up at four every day. Not when he skips meals so I can eat better. Not when he tells the relatives I’m the pride of the family.”

You blinked, the usual comeback dying in your throat.

She finally looked at you—

and she looked tired. Not physically.

The kind of tired that settles in the bones after years of pretending it’s all fine.

“You joke a lot,” she said.

“And I don’t get it sometimes. But part of me…”

She hesitated.

“Part of me envies it.”

You sat with that.

Let the silence settle.

Then you leaned forward, elbows on your knees.

Voice softer than usual.

“You know… even with all the jokes, I still see you. The real you.”

She didn’t respond. But her eyes didn’t leave yours either.

And for once—she didn’t look away.

“You what?”

Minjeong’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Not her usual sharp tone.

Not her calm, collected quiet.

This was something else.

This was a girl trying not to fall apart.

You stood still in front of the principal’s office door, shoulders sinking.

“I… switched the system timers,” you admitted.

“So the fire alarm would go off during the student council audit.”

She blinked at you. Slowly. Like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“The audit my dad came to supervise?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

“The one where they told him I wasn’t organized enough? That I let things slip?”

Her voice trembled now. “That I failed?”

“…Yeah.”

She turned away from you, hands shaking.

She’d held herself together through worse.

But this—

this felt personal.

And maybe that’s why it hurt the most.

“I did it,” you said, finally.

Quietly.

Honestly.

“I did it so I could spend time with you more.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

She let out a broken sound—half a laugh, half a sob.

Her shoulders trembled.

“You could’ve just asked me for time, Y/N.”

She turned to you, eyes red.

“You think I wouldn’t have said yes?”

Her voice cracked.

“You think I don’t want to see you?”

You stepped closer, but she backed away.

“I defended you,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I told them it was my fault. I told my dad I was the one who failed.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks now.

“And all you had to do… was ask.”

Your heart sank.

All those detentions.

All those glances.

All that quiet trust you’d finally started to earn—

and now, she was breaking right in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

She didn’t answer.

But she didn’t walk away either.

Just stood there, wiping her face with the sleeve of her blazer.

A girl with too much weight on her shoulders,

and one person too careless with her heart

It started with a lunchbox.

No words. No grand apology. No folded note with a silly doodle — just a packed container wrapped in a thin cloth, left gently on the edge of her desk during lunch hour. You didn’t even stay. You just placed it there, paused for a second, then turned and walked off before she could ask anything.

Minjeong didn’t touch it at first.

She stared at it like it might explode — then, like it might disappear.

She ate it only after the classroom emptied out.

The next day, you showed up again. Didn’t bring food this time. Instead, you stayed after the last bell, quietly stacking stray chairs back into place while the janitor cleaned the floors. You picked up plastic wrappers, refilled the whiteboard markers, even patched the torn back of a class notice you ripped last month. When the teacher asked why you were still around, you just said, “Killing time.”

You weren’t. You were building something.

Minjeong saw it all. She always did. You knew that now.

She never said thank you. Never acknowledged the change. But she no longer turned away when she saw you. That alone said more than enough.

You stopped joking so much.

Stopped forcing your way into her day. Instead, you let the silence return — not the cold kind that used to sit between you like a wall, but a gentle one. A silence that filled the room without pressing on either of you. She worked. You sat nearby. Sometimes across. Sometimes diagonally, pen in hand, scribbling on real report forms instead of doodling stick figures like before.

Weeks passed like this.

Then came the rain.

It started slow — light droplets smattering against the windowpanes like background noise. You were in the back of the room, hunched over a desk, trying to put your thoughts into something legible. Minjeong was at the front, sleeves rolled up, sorting through stacks of club expense reports and academic warnings.

You should’ve left it alone.

You almost did.

But something inside you shifted, a hollowness that wouldn’t sit still. It had been clawing at your ribs for days — the same ache you used to bury under jokes, loud entrances, ridiculous stunts.

“I joke a lot,” you said.

Minjeong didn’t look up. Just flipped to the next page of her spreadsheet.

You stared at your hands. “Because maybe… just maybe, the laughter of other people fills my hollowed one.”

The sound of rain filled the silence she left in her wake.

She froze mid-page. Her fingers stopped moving. She didn’t lift her head, but you could see her shoulders had gone rigid, like the words had reached somewhere they weren’t supposed to.

“I don’t like the quiet,” you added, voice smaller now. “It echoes too much.”

Still, no movement.

You let out a breath and leaned forward, resting your arms on your knees. “It’s easier when people laugh. Even if it’s at me. Feels like… something’s alive in the room, y’know?”

Minjeong slowly closed the folder in front of her. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes — those damn eyes — they looked older tonight. Like she had spent her whole life being seventeen.

She turned toward you. The chair creaked softly beneath her.

“You still messed up,” she said.

“I know.”

She stared for a moment longer, and for once, you didn’t try to charm your way through it. You just looked back, tired and sincere.

Then, barely audible — “You could’ve just asked.”

“I didn’t think I deserved to.”

That broke something.

Her gaze flickered. Her throat moved as she swallowed something hard.

“You still don’t,” she murmured. “Not yet.”

You nodded, not offended. Not defensive.

She turned back to her table, fingers brushing across the edge of her folder, then pausing. Her voice came out steadier this time.

“You can sit closer today,” she said. “If you want.”

You stood up quietly and moved toward her. Not too close. Just one chair over. Enough to share the table. Enough to make room.

Not as a joke.

Not as a flirt.

But as someone trying.

The rain continued, softer now.

She didn’t speak again. Neither did you.

But for the first time in a long time, the silence didn’t echo at all.

The classroom was quieter than usual when you walked in.

No rustling papers. No fast scribbles. Just the soft hum of the ceiling fan spinning overhead like it was trying to fill the silence.

Minjeong sat alone by the window, the rain casting silver shadows across her desk.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy tie — not the usual slick, neat one. She didn’t look up when you entered.

You hovered in the doorway, unsure if this was the day she’d finally tell you to go away.

But she didn’t.

So you stepped inside.

Careful. Light-footed.

Like walking into a room that wasn’t built to hold fragile things, but did anyway.

When you reached her, she didn’t speak.

Just held something in her hands — thin, worn, like a photograph that had been opened and closed a hundred times.

You tilted your head. “What’s that?”

Minjeong didn’t answer. Not immediately.

Her eyes stayed on the image like it might vanish if she blinked too long.

Then, without a word, she turned it around.

It was her. Younger. Five maybe. Sitting on her father’s shoulders, a gold medal hanging around her neck.

And him — smiling, mouth open in mid-laugh. Like the weight of the world hadn’t gotten to him yet.

Your chest tightened.

“He called me his brightest star that day,” she said, voice barely above the rain outside. “I got first place in a spelling bee. It was the only time I saw him cry.”

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t need to.

She continued. “Now… he barely blinks when I win anything. It’s just expected. Normal. A check off a long list.”

Her fingers brushed over the photo, smoothing out the corner again. “He used to be proud. Now he’s just… waiting. For the next thing. The next success. Like I’m a project, not a daughter.”

Her voice wavered at the edge. Then steadied again.

You sat down beside her slowly, not touching her, but near enough that she’d know she wasn’t alone.

“He doesn’t come to school events anymore unless he’s in charge of something. He says, ‘You’re already doing well. Why would I need to watch?’”

A pause.

“I think I stopped doing things for myself a long time ago.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing into your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“I’m not telling you so you’ll feel sorry,” she said, finally glancing at you. “I’m telling you because you asked why I don’t have time to be soft. This is why.”

She turned back to the window. Her voice fell again.

“If I mess up, it feels like everything he gave up… means nothing. And I can’t do that to him. Even if I want to scream sometimes. Even if I want to just… stop.”

You watched her for a long while. The way her shoulders curled inward. The tired lines under her eyes. The kind of pain that doesn’t spill out but lives in every gesture.

“I didn’t know,” you said quietly.

“I didn’t let you,” she replied.

There was a pause then. Thick with things you both didn’t know how to name.

And then—

You moved your hand slightly, just enough for your pinky to brush against hers on the desk.

Not a grab. Not a hold.

Just contact. Just warmth.

“I’m not here to fix you,” you murmured. “But if you ever feel like screaming… I’ll be there. Even if I can’t stop the echo, I’ll scream with you.”

Minjeong didn’t look at you. Didn’t say anything.

But she didn’t pull her hand away, either.

And for someone like her…

That was everything.

The lights in the room had dimmed slightly — the storm outside casting long blue shadows across the floor.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there beside her, your pinkies still barely touching on the edge of the desk.

Neither of you spoke.

It wasn’t the kind of silence that begged to be broken —

It was the kind you wanted to stretch a little longer.

Stay inside of it. Float.

Minjeong’s breathing had slowed, fingers still loosely holding the old photo.

And for once, her posture wasn’t perfect.

She slouched slightly, her shoulder brushing yours — not on purpose. Not an accident either.

You turned just enough to glance at her, and in the soft hum of the empty classroom, you saw it:

the weight of the day settling in her eyelids, the walls coming down, inch by careful inch.

She didn’t pull away when your thigh pressed gently against hers.

Didn’t shift when your shoulder rested more fully into hers.

She stayed still — but not frozen. Not like before.

And then—

A small sigh escaped her lips. Barely audible.

She leaned. Slowly. Like it surprised even her.

Her head came to rest against your shoulder.

Not for a second.

Not for a breath.

But to stay.

You didn’t move. Didn’t even dare to blink too hard.

Her hair smelled faintly of clean fabric softener and old paper. Her weight was light, but her trust felt heavy — and you carried it like something sacred.

A door creaked faintly behind you.

You looked up.

It was your homeroom teacher.

She froze in the doorway, stack of folders in her hand, clearly not expecting anyone to still be inside.

Her eyes landed on the two of you —

You, sitting still as stone,

Minjeong, asleep or nearly asleep on your shoulder,

your hand now gently resting over hers on the desk.

For a long second, she just… observed.

Not judging.

Not surprised, even.

She gave a small smile. The kind that said so this is where all that detentions led to.

Then, without a word, she stepped back and closed the door quietly.

You exhaled, heart still drumming.

Minjeong stirred slightly, murmuring something you couldn’t catch.

But her fingers squeezed yours — just barely.

Just enough.

You didn’t say anything.

You just stayed still and held the silence with her

like it was the most fragile thing in the world

You felt her stir before she spoke.

A small, sleepy shift of weight.

Her cheek lifting slowly from your shoulder.

The soft rustle of her blazer sleeve brushing yours.

When you turned, Minjeong was blinking hard, like waking up disoriented, unsure if she’d just broken some rule she wrote herself.

She sat up quickly. “I—”

She cleared her throat. Didn’t finish the sentence.

Instead, she blinked down at her hand, still slightly wrapped in yours.

You loosened your fingers, slowly.

Didn’t pull away. Just gave her the space to do it herself.

She didn’t.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she mumbled, brushing her hair back behind her ear. Her voice was quieter than usual — not cold, just embarrassed. “I… I don’t usually do that.”

You smiled, soft and knowing. “I figured.”

She glanced at you. A second too long.

Then she looked away again, biting the inside of her cheek.

“I must’ve looked stupid.”

“No,” you said, not teasing. Just honest. “You looked tired.”

She didn’t answer.

But her hand stayed close to yours on the desk.

Not touching now — but not far either.

Like she hadn’t decided yet whether she was going to let go.

You didn’t push.

Instead, you stood, stretched a little, and reached for your bag.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” you said gently. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

That made her look up.

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something more—

but all that came out was a small, breathy “Okay.”

You nodded once.

And left.

The hallway was quiet. Empty.

The storm had passed, leaving everything damp and soft-edged.

You turned the corner and nearly ran into your homeroom teacher again.

She was holding a few forms this time, glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.

She smiled when she saw you.

“You didn’t cause trouble for her, did you?”

You shook your head, almost smiling back. “Not today.”

She gave you a long look. The kind that sees through walls.

The kind that saw what happened inside that room without needing to be told.

Then, her voice softened.

“Good job, Y/N.”

A pause.

“I’m proud of you.”

You blinked.

Something caught in your throat.

It wasn’t the words themselves.

It was that no one had ever said them to you before.

Not like that.

Not in a hallway with no audience.

Not with that kind of quiet sincerity.

You looked down. Smiled a little. But it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thanks, Miss,” you said, voice tight. “See you tomorrow.”

And you walked away.

Shoulders hunched slightly.

Fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.

Eyes glistening — just a little.

Not enough for anyone to notice.

But enough to know you were still learning how to carry kindness

like it didn’t burn.

#spotify #kpop #aespa #aespa x reader #aespa minjeong #aespa x male reader #Kim Minjeong #Male Reader #Spotify

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skeletonh0e · 3 months ago

Note

Would love to have some headncanons about the bois falling in love with the reader that doesn't love them back 😶

Were craving some angst lately, so i hope you're ok with writing something like this.

Oooooh boy, sad boy hours be upon us but I had fun with this one!

Tw for toxicity & yandere-ish behavior for the bad sans gang, we all knew it was coming. Those four do not cope with bad feelings well. Just skip over those parts if it's not your cuppa

The Boys & Unrequited Love

Classic Sans:

Here's the thing with Sans and confessing serious feelings.....

He don't.

Listen, whenever this man catches feels he never intentionally confesses first. He waits for a confession, blurts it out accidentally or at the very least doesn't make a move unless he has reason to suspect you might actually return his feelings

And in this particular case? You never do. And it's fine. He's fine. Promise.

Okay obviously it's not a fun time realizing you've caught serious feelings for a friend who just doesn't return the sentiment, but he knows it's probably for the best anyway. He can settle for being just your friend.

Inaction is probably one of Sans' biggest flaws, so he simply doesn't bring it up and dismisses anyone who asks if he might have a thing for you. Is there a part of him telling him to shoot his shot anyway? That to at least risk it because of the off chance you return his feelings despite having no indication otherwise? Yeah but.....he still doesn't.

Besides, if you really wanted you would have asked him eventually right?

But you don't. And that's fine.

He'll be there still, hanging out and watching you go on dates with others. Happily supporting you at every moment, probably will offer to be a groomsmen at your wedding and even give a goofy toast

It'll all sting a bit but he'll get over it, he always does.

Emotional repression is strong here.

He's just waiting for his feelings to fade, which maybe they will eventually but it's not gonna be anytime soon and he's choosing to silently suffer while being there for you in an entirely platonically matter.

Above all else, he doesn't want to make things weird and doesn't want to lose you completely so he'll settle for this. No point in mourning what could have been or the fantasies he wishes to have. He focuses on what he does have.

He's sure you'll think of him fondly, he'll be happy for you, maybe even be remembered fondly as dear ole' uncle Sans if you choose to have children

This is fine

He's always here if you need him.

Underswap Sans:

Takes a bit to realize his feelings are romantic but unlike Classis he's definitely shooting his shot,

Going all out with the confession and everything, he wants to it be a spectacle!

Annnnnnnnd-

Friendzoned.

Oof

Is this how Chara felt when he took them on a date and rejected them? Yeesh. It is not good to be on the receiving end, he's gonna apologize to that kid later.

Honestly, he takes it the best out of all the Sanses here. Like,

You two can still be friends right? 👉👈

If not well, yeah sad boy hours are intensified but if you two can continue a friendship then the blow is softened a good bit

It'll still sting, things are awkward for a bit, and things are gonna be worse for the fella if you do start dating someone not long after but yeah.

He's got his feelings out and over time they will eventually fall out.

He'll continue being your best friend, supporting you, being there and hyping you up always. Similar to Classic but with his own chaotic energy to the mix and there's no sense of sadness there. At least not as much and then not at all down the line.

Sometimes, things like this just don't work out. But you two found a rhythm and dynamic that works.

He's still happy to be an important person in your life 💙

Underfell Sans:

Him? In love? Miss him with that weak shit.

Denial is always his first response to these type of feelings, however after a certain point he can't ignore them and he's put in a weird situation.

Does he say something? Would it better or worse if he doesn't? Does it matter? He'd be a shitty boyfriend, how long would it take for you to just dump his ass?

He flirts but always plays it off as a joke, the fact that you never response that positively to it never installs much hope

However....one night after a lot of booze, he stumbles into your arms and gets all gushy on you. That's when feelings are all put out in the open and while you care for his drunk ass....

You let him down gently

And then he passes out

Next day? He pretends to be too drunk to remember any of it. (He remembers everything he's dying inside)

You push the issue he's gonna deny or gas light "I was drunk off my ass and don't even remember that shit, whatever I said I was clearly too drunk to be thinking straight-" type beat

He's of course actually upset deep down but good luck getting him to admit that

Things are awkward for a bit, you two are still friends yeah because he is known for loyalty as much as anything else but you get the vibe he's just salty at you for awhile

And well....you two aren't as close as you used to be.

He'll get over it eventually, he's still there. Just not as much as he would have been before hand.

Underlust Sans:

Knee-jerk reaction is a big "Oh no-"

He does not catch romantic feelings easily, he almost prides himself on that fact and now he's done the most cliche thing by falling in love with a friend

He does not what to do either. So he does the most suspicious thing then full blown stops any flirting or cracking dirty jokes around you

....which makes everyone more suspicious

He's a master at acting in every other situation despite this one, it seems. Does everyone around you piece together that he has serious romantic feels? No, but most can tell something is up.

Including you

Once you manage to ask, he'll dodge the question until he can't. Then you get an awkward confession followed by him making it VERY clear you don't have to return his feelings and he doesn't want anything to change between you really

.....and you agree with him.

Outwardly he takes it well but later he's getting drunk and crying some messy tears, Grillby is gonna hear all about it later

He's still your friend though....at least he tries to be

He thought he could still be your friend, but it really starts to hurt after a bit and he starts seeing you less and less. Starts answering your phone calls less, starts hanging around less and you two just don't talk as much

It's a slow process as he slowly removes himself from your life, he knows it's kind of a shitty thing to do but he won't move on other wise.

He'll still be there if you need him, he'll pick you up if you're nearly black out drunk or need someone to bail you out but....you don't see him that much anymore.

Horrortale Sans:

This is.....a messy situation.

Axe is a wildcard when it comes to these emotions, all of the bad Sanses are. But the thing about him is there is no telling what might set him off. The others at least have something akin to a pattern, meanwhile anything for him is basically a shot in the dark

Probably realized he had feelings for you after awhile back but....hasn't figured out how to confess yet or even if he wants to. He doesn't know how he'd react to you turning him down

For now? He's your friend. A friend who's scaring away any potential partners....a friend who's suspiciously always there the moment your date for the evening didn't show up....a friend who's definitely not murdering anyone that comes too close....

He knows he can't do this forever, he knows you wouldn't react well to any of this but....he can't let you go either. So he's doing everything he can to keep you close but never give you reason to leave him

A part of him is still hoping your feelings will change and you'll fall in love with him if he just stays around long enough

He's an awful man he knows but he can be so good for you he just knows it

There's not really a good end to this situation, either you find out what he's been doing and end up hating him for it. Or he does finally confess and you reject him.

And when either or does happen he doesn't know whether he'll kill you or simply refuse to let you go then takes you back kicking and screaming. He doesn't like to think about either outcome.

Fresh Sans:

So here's the thing, if you aren't interested in him and don't make the first move as a result he is NOT gonna figure out he has romantic feelings for you on his own

Fresh is not the most emotionally mature guy and to be to him he's not really uh, built for this

He's a parasite. No one was ever intended to love him and he likewise wasn't intended to fall in love

He knows he likes you a lot and care deeply for you, hasn't figured out that means he's in love. And dosnt even realize he wants you as more than a friend

So....it's kind of obvious to everyone else but him

And you don't have the heart to turn him down so....you two just continue on.

There'll be the occasional moment where Fresh gets a bit too clingy or pulls some shit you'd expect from a boyfriend not just a friend, but he doesn't figure it out. Not even when you eventually get with someone else.

By the time Fresh realizes what his feelings were, you probably already have a life for yourself. Hell, you might already be dead of old age. He's far too late to do anything about it now.

And he's fine with that.

It makes him upset sure, but he's happy he was able to be a part of your life. No matter how small it was.

Killer Sans:

TOXIC BOY HOURS LETS GOOOOOO

Probably was waiting for the right moment to confess or at least find a way to make it a spectacle, he's a romantic at heart yeah.

But then you go on a date and he had take care of it

A bit of a whiplash to have your date murdered by your friend and doubly more so when said friend is dropping a dramatic love confession

You try to let him down easy but uhhhhh

Killer isn't taking a no.

He's not going to do something as extreme as say kidnap you but like he's not leaving, you're his and no one else can have you. Whether or not you want that is irrelevant

You'll change your mind eventually, but he's not letting anything ruin this.

You're either gonna have to constantly live working around this (kissing your romantic life and social life goodbye) or cut the problem at the stem by getting rid of Killer, both being easier said than done

The former means you're basically dating Killer even if you aren't actually dating, so it's a form of defeatism

The latter is gonna take some form of extreme magic or possibly killing the bastard, neither of which are easy. Especially with Killer hounding you 24/7

The real question is do you give in or fight it to the bitter end?

Doesn't matter, one night you eventually scream at him, "I DONT LOVE YOU, I CAN NEVER LOVE YOU NOW. YOU KILLED ALL CHANCE YOU HAD WITH ME! I HATE YOU!" and it renders him silent and then....he leaves. Then he doesn't come back.

You're safe....?

Dusttale Sans:

The thing about Dust is that he fucking hates himself, so yeah he doesn't even try a confession and he rests well knowing his feelings aren't returned

Who would love him?

He'll just.....be around.

Would he go as far as to kill any possible partners you may have? Possibly. But only the ones he deems to be a legit danger to you but it's kind of clear he's just looking for excuses at this point

And as much as he wants to keep being your friend....it's start to take a toll on his mental health which is already thinner than a dry pasta noodle

He's going to snap and do something drastic at some point, so he does the most logical thing

He fucking vanishes off the face of the earth and lowkey ghosts you

It's harsh but trust me, it's for the best. Dust would rather you walk away with at least a decent enough memory of him rather than you getting to see him at his absolute worst

And trust me, his worst is horrifying

Might occasionally pop in on you, i.e will randomly stalk you from a distance every blue moon but you don't really see him ever again

Nightmare Sans:

Emotions are, unfortunately, his expertise. So he knows of his feelings and is painfully aware you don't return them.

He'll be patient enough to see if anything changes, but they don't. So.....

He's at a stand still of what to do.

Does he keep up the vague very unlikely hope you will eventually fall in love with him anyway? Does he cut off this friendship entirely? Does he decide he doesn't care what you want and keeps you anyway?

All are equally likely options. The thing is sometimes extreme emotions can be mixed up together, even if you end up hating or resenting it well....if there's enough passion you could mistake it for love in a sense

That's what he's telling himself anyway

The best case scenario is you don't notice any major changes and Nightmare is just becoming more distant from you. But it can all be dismissed as him being busy with work or whatever

Worst case scenario?

You're invited to his castle, he gives a long rambling about his feelings and if you turn him down? Well-

He's not letting you leave.

Make no mistake, you will always be cared for and adored whether you want it or not. But you're not leaving.

#💀 the boys (group post)#sans x reader #underfell sans x reader #underswap sans x reader #fresh sans x reader #horrortale sans x reader #underlust sans x reader #dusttale sans x reader #killer sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #asks #requests

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kumkaniudaku · 5 months ago

Text

Hot

Summary: Patrice thinks Terry looks...different when he returns from a Summer in New Orleans.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: None

The summer before senior year was a scorcher. Every inch of Fayetteville felt blanketed in stifling, burning heat and humidity so thick that walking through six feet of pool water was easier than going outside to the mailbox.

For four weeks, Patrice spent the dog days lounging beneath her ceiling fan rotating at full speed, enjoying a good book and spirited hours-long phone conversations with her best friend to beat the heat. Not out of necessity, despite the breath-stealing grip of sweltering heat greeting her each time she got too close to the front door, but because her right-hand man had gone further south for the season.

No amount of late-evening phone calls taken in his grandmother's upstairs guest bedroom or Facebook pokes sent back and forth could make up for Terry's absence. Typically, he'd board a short flight to New Orleans, live like a local for ten days, then hustle back up the southeast to return in enough time for pre-season conditioning. Maman and a host of cousins looking to brighten the matriarch's day were convincing enough to pull Terry away from the comforts of homes one and two for longer than he wanted. Sure, Granny was happy, but the young lady eagerly awaiting the loud trill of her cell phone every night after 6:00 pm local time was difficult not to miss.

Patrice might say the same if she weren't still denying her feelings to anyone bold enough to ask prying questions. Everyone except Napheesa Garland. She got the brunt of all Patrice's pining, whether she wanted to hear love-sick sentiments or not.

On the other end of a phone call already running well past an hour, Napheesa chuckled at her friend's third deep sigh of the evening. "Girl, you have got to get it together. He's literally just Terry. You know how long I've known Terry? His head was big in middle school, and he looked like he was two grades younger than us. That's how long I've known Terry."

"I bet he was so cute," Patrice sighed, the smile in her voice evident through the receiver. She turned on her back to look up at the ceiling and admire her fresh bubblegum pink pedicure. "I can just imagine a smaller Terry and that cute little smile."

"The more you talk, the less I'm convinced you don't like him," Napheesa accused.

"I don't," Patrice corrected, her voice climbing guiltily. "I just wanna see what he was like!"

Napheesa kissed her teeth. "Well, today's your lucky day. Check your phone."

A soft vibration against Patrice's face sent her into a tizzy. Her fingers rushed to transfer Napheesa to speaker so she could view her friend's message and keep the conversation going simultaneously. Her thumb eagerly tapped at the unread message before a cheery smile morphed into a confused front.

"Yeesh," she vocalized as she turned the phone upside down, searching for any angle to turn the unsightly yearbook photo into something worth seeing.

Against a blue background, Terry of yore posed, almost grimacing at the camera. He looked caught between a wince and a frown, his brows knitted in the same muted anger often etched into his facial expressions when he didn't feel entirely comfortable in his surroundings. Small, raised red bumps peppered his cheeks and forehead. A long stripe of hair in desperate need of loving hands and hot argan oil curled amid sides cut to highlight his curled mohawk. She'd seen Terry with crust in his eyes and ashy from whipping winds after a late fall football game. This Terry, young and awkwardly grimacing at the camera, was as much a stranger as random patrons in a grocery store.

Patrice zoomed closer. "Wow. A mohawk, huh?"

"That he barely kept cut," Phee laughed. "All the boys had one. And all the boys looked dumb as hell."

"I think it's kind of cute. Look at that attempt at a smile." Clear and present flaws slowly transformed into a host of adorable, unique features she would search for on his face the next time she saw him.

Those bushy brows and hazel-green eyes hadn't changed a bit. Patrice chalked the rest up to puberty working overtime to match the internal with the external.

"You're sick, P. Like really out of your mind." Phee's accusation came with a deep sigh as if she was disappointed in her friend's inability to say a bad word about her half-best friend/half-boyfriend.

Patrice giggled. "I'm a hopeless romantic! Is it not my job to see the best in my man."

"Today, he's your man, but as soon as he's standing directly in your face, you act like you can't speak up. A lie don't care who tell it," Napheesa rebutted.

It didn't matter how close the words crept to the tip of her tongue when they spent the end of their nights together talking about nothing and everything at the same time or how many times she'd started a text message spilling her guts only to delete every word to share some meaningless tidbit for his prompt response. Patrice couldn't say how she felt yet. One day. Just not now.

As she prepared to explain herself for the thousandth time, stilted beeps on her line alerted her to an incoming call. The contact name, TJ :), lit the screen beneath a digital clock reading just after 6:00 pm. "Oh, hold on, Terry's calling. Don't hang up."

Ruckus receded into a low hum after a shutting door sealed Terry into his shared room for the summer. "What's up, Treece," he greeted, his speech carrying more drawl than Patrice remembered at the end of the school year. A bed creaked under his weight in the background. "My bad for not texting back earlier. I was fishin' and guess I lost track of time."

"It's alright. Hey, hold on. Phee's on the other line." Deft maneuvers patched Terry and Napheesa into a joint call bound to start and end with an argument. "Phee, Terry's on. Y'all should be nice to each other."

Napheesa groaned. "I'm always nice to Terry when he's not startin' shit."

"Yeah, she nice to me but be playing my boy Kendall like he not trynna see what's up. Why you actin' like that, PheePhee?"

"It's Napheesa to you since you wanna play, Terrence. And don't be worrying about me and Kendall. Worry about you and your girl," Napheesa countered.

Terry chuckled. "And who is my girl, hm?" He paused for an answer, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he got comfortable on one of two twin beds in the room.

Patrice silently prayed to the Lord above, hoping her friend wouldn't pick a moment like this to open a can of worms she couldn't close once the slithering creatures were out and about. They both listened to Napheesa grunt in defeat.

"Forget it," she huffed. Patrice took a deep breath, silently thankful for Phee's loyalty. "I gotta go. Call me when you want to go to the mall on Saturday, P. I'll pick you up. Bye, Knucklehead."

"Bye, PheePhee. Tell Kendall I said hey!" Terry teased.

"Shut up!"

As quickly as they'd gone back and forth over trivial matters, Napheesa was gone with a quick click, leaving Terry and Patrice alone as they usually were when golden hour light filled the evening sky. They sat silently for a moment, both listening to the other breathe in the happiness they thought they could only find in person.

A soft laugh broke through the stillness. "You still there," Terry questioned. He listened to Patrice giggle back with his eyes closed, allowing the sound to wrap him in a warm embrace. "How was your day? Do anything fun?"

"Not really. It's so hot outside I thought I saw the devil climbing into the bird bath out back." They laughed at another one of Patrice's patented grandma-isms, which Terry deemed silly but endearing. She continued. "What about you? How was fishing? Catch anything?"

Terry sighed, the nonchalant shrug evident in his tone. "Just some catfish. Nothin' crazy. Couldn't get Mike to shut up long enough for anything to bite."

"I don't blame him. Fishing is so boring. I don't know how you do it."

"I like the quiet on the water. It's good for my brain with all the…stuff goin' on at home," he answered.

Patrice fiddled with the fringe on her throw pillow, searching for words of comfort. "She'll get better. You'll see when you get back."

"Maybe." The heaviness in his response temporarily paused their discussion, leaving room for the quiet whoost of Patrice's ceiling fan in the background. Terry scratched at his stubble-covered chin and tried to add an extra lilt to his voice to preserve Patrice's happiness. "I got something to tell you." A small excited squeal preceded Patrice's urging for more. He laughed and shook his head. "I'll be home tomorrow night. Probably not in time to stop by or anything, but I could come to the mall with you and Phee on Saturday. If it's cool and all."

A glossed bottom lip found itself trapped beneath Patrice's top row of teeth, struggling against the confines to break into a smile. "I'll ask her. We could do a movie or something, too."

"Yeah. Me and you. We got a lot to catch up on."

A million things came to mind: drama between classmates erupting on MySpace and late-night ooVoo video chats, new storylines in their favorite show, tales of haunted houses and alleged voodoo ladies, and Patrice's brand new haircut. She hoped he'd like the drastic change from her shoulder-length press and curl to the sleek bob she'd begged her mother to sign off on.

Miles apart, they allowed thoughts of the other to consume their every waking moment. Some were in their slumber until two nights passed, and Saturday morning placed them only a neighborhood away.

Most of Patrice's energy had gone into picking the right top to show a sliver of midriff when a text message caused her phone to buzz against her dresser. She paused the music blaring from her radio to peek at the phone screen.

Phee: scratch wat I said about Terry the other day. he at the prk looking GOOD! u ready 2 go yet?

Flutters carrying nervousness and excitement in a revolving cycle filled Patrice's chest and belly. For Napheesa, the proud president and founding member of the 'Terry is Just Alright Club,' to compliment Terry meant she'd seen beauty not yet known to man. She'd finally seen the light at the end of a crush tunnel only meant to carry one to the promised land.

Patrice couldn't think beyond a quick misspelled confirmation that she was ready to go despite having not yet laid eyes on her shoes, purse, or the earrings her mother required she wear any time she stepped out of the house. She spent the better part of a 10-minute drive to the park adjusting and readjusting the feathered bang in her bob and the right amount of hair to tuck behind her ear while Napheesa rattled off all the info she knew about Terry's whereabouts.

He was at the big, empty field at the far end of Elton Hayes Memorial Park playing touch football with a group of boys, both of them only kind of knew from surrounding high schools. A rumor from a mutual friend alleged a tattoo on his right shoulder – a rose or a bulldog or something to that effect. Patrice started hearing every other word as the bright red Kia, acting as her chariot for the afternoon, pulled into the parking lot and slowed to a stop.

Sure enough, Terry was in the area. His green Ford Explorer, full of dents and scratches as a hand me down from his paternal uncle, sat across the way as a sign that he was not just a beautiful mirage in the heat wave but an actual walking, talking person back in her world again.

Fear quietly gripped Patrice, closing her throat and sending her lungs into overdrive to pull in vital oxygen. She frantically searched her face for imperfections in the mirror. "Phee, do I look okay," she croaked while slathering more lip gloss on her lips. "I don't look weird, right? You think he'll recognize me."

"Girl, you look fine." Napheesa's eyes slowly pulled away from the group of boys running to and fro across patches of dry grass and light-colored sand to focus on her friend in need of reassurance. She tucked hair behind Patrice's ear and smiled. "I wasn't gonna say anything because he told me not to, but Terry asked me to bring you here. He wants to see you. So don't go gettin' all shy on me. Go talk to him!"

Most of Patrice believed Napheesa. The rational side with a brain capable of processing coherent thoughts knew Terry well enough to discern when he was sincere and when he was bating her into a silly tale for his own amusement. She'd heard about an alleged crush from Corey and felt sparks of what might be when they shared the same space in comfortable silence. There was something there. Be it the first flashes of burgeoning romance, scary and tingly on her skin like a curious caterpillar finding respite on her arm in Spring, or some internal hoping requited love, Patrice didn't know.

All she could discern was the quiet pop from the door handle, giving the heat access to the inside of Napheesa's air-conditioned, bright red Kia before she stuck one moisturized leg and the other outside.

Any fear of intruding on Terry's ambition to turn a desolate patch of grass into Lambeau Field during the playoffs slowly melted away once he caught wind of her presence. Had Patrice been paying attention to her surroundings and not the hunk of new muscle and peanut butter skin basking in early afternoon sun rays, she may have noticed how he eyed her simple cut-off skirt and white graphic tee ensemble. But she couldn't take her eyes off Terry long enough to tell up from down or left from white.

When he left four weeks prior, she remembered him as more lean, more pale, more boyish than the version of Terry standing a few yards away. He'd gained muscle on his arms and back that rippled beneath slick skin like Usher's muscles in the U Don't Have To Call video. Terry hadn't reached those heights, but he was damn close. And were those abs? The question pinged around Patrice's nearly empty brain as she eyed his naked torso. Those were abs. She whipped her head back around to look at Napheesa in the front seat but found her shock unreciprocated when she noticed Phee laughing at something on her phone. Patrice was in this one alone.

A second look had her zeroing in on the fabled black and white ink covering the upper portion of his strong right shoulder. She couldn't make out the figure taking up fresh real estate, but she knew she wanted to get her hand on it – squeeze for dear life while he wrapped her body in an embrace so firm and intentional it made her head spin.

Patrice watched him jog in her direction with teeth gleaming in a dashing smile, fresh-shaven facial hair leaving the ghost of a shadow on his young face, and a fresh haircut glistening from a mix of wave pomade and sweat. His quad muscles define his long legs flexed with each heel stroke against dry earth. Her breath caught in her throat as he drew closer, calling her name like a child excited to see their parents after a long day in school.

Terry's deepening voice spoke her name once more. "Treece! What's up!?" Wet, sticky skin collided with Patrice's front, wrapping her into a tight embrace that nearly lifted her off the ground as he spoke into the top of her head. He inhaled the scent of strawberries and cream on her skin, then exhaled in goofy bliss before speaking again. "Damn, girl. You don't talk no more? Couldn't get you to quiet down the other day."

Sweet symphonies made of words coated in a fleeting, down-home New Orleans drawl tried to lull Patrice into an unshakeable haze. The only thing keeping her mind, body, and soul planted to her side of Heaven was the harsh mix of musk and cologne wafting from Terry's body. Recollection of all the time she'd spent layering Victoria's Secret body mist and lotion for her signature scent shocked her back into reality.

"Gross, TJ! You stink," she complained, only half-serious as she extended her arms to create some separation. He chuckled at her insult while he backed away to give his friend some space. They eyed each other shamelessly, neither bold enough to say the potentially inappropriate thoughts running through their minds. "Welcome back," Patrice finally coughed up when a front room view of large hands scratching at his bare chest became too much to handle. "I thought we were goin' to the mall. You can't go anywhere with me lookin' like that."

Terry shook his head and adjusted the waistband of his shorts, just missing Patrice's eyes following his hand's motions. "My fault. Mike and Rob needed somebody to fill out the team, and I could use the run. You and Phee wanna meet me there? I can leave and get dressed right now."

"If you want to." The meek, sweet voice emanating from her vocal cords startled Patrice into a fight to recover. She stammered through an overcorrection. "B-but, like, hurry up. We still wanna see a movie too."

"Wait, can we see Transformers? I had to leave before I could go with my cousins."

His childlike pleading came with green eyes rounded into saucers for extra appeal. Patrice rolled her eyes, purporting annoyance when a swell of abnormal flutters overtook her chest. "Alright," she relented. "But you're getting the popcorn."

Terry pinched her cheek and smiled. "I'll do popcorn and the tickets. Maman sent me back with a little bit of cash."

"TJ," Patrice started to protest, only to be met with opposition.

"Stop it, Treece," Terry warned. "It's fine. Tell me what times they have, and I'll get there before then."

It was settled. A little playful back and forth and plans to call as soon as new information became available turned an unofficial hangout into more concrete plans to reacquaint with Corey added to round out the foursome.

Patrice practically floated back to Napheesa's small Spectra, the biting chill of her air conditioning on full blast finally cueing her brain to the stinging, painful skin covering her sweating body.

Phee watched her fuss with hair swelling at the roots in the mirror, anxiously awaiting an update. When none came, she forced the issue.

She started in a slow, calm voice that resembled one her mother used when she and her two brothers had really messed up. "Patrice Nicole, you better tell me what just happened, and you better tell me quick." A slow smile spread across her best friend's face, further exacerbating the situation. "P! Come on! I'm dying!"

After allowing the overhead mirror to slam shut against worn interior upholstery, Patrice turned in the passenger seat to face Napheese. A flash of genuine concern flashed across her eyes as reality crashed into her at full speed. She took a deep breath and then allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of her lips.

"Remember what you said the other day," Patrice questioned, waiting for a nod to continue. "You were right. I think…I know that I like Terry now. As more than a friend."

-------

Sincere apologies for any errors! I'll do a sweep tomorrow but really wanted to get this out.

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22

#aaron pierre #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond #rebel ridge #rebel ridge au

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tsukimefuku · 1 year ago

Text

de-stressing the lawyer :: higuruma hiromi

summary: your husband hiromi is pretty stressed out with work, and you decide to help him out… by giving him head under his desk.

cw: smut, implied f!reader, blowjob, swallowing, pet names (“darling" and “my dear”).

wc: 1.1k

notes etc.: this is just filth, guys. It is thoroughly inspired by that one amazing four-panel comic from @g00miato that has lived in my head rent free ever since I saw it a while ago (tagging the artist with her consent, you can check out the comic here on this link).

Hiromi had a throbbing headache as he sat on his home office's desk. He had been cooped up in there for hours after work, having already peeled out his tie and suit jacket, trying to crack a case he didn't get anywhere with during office hours.

The evidence? Wasn't favorable at all. The procedure? Pristine, nothing to argue about that. His client was in a dire situation and Hiromi thought he might have to enter a plea bargain with the prosecution, something he loathed with every fiber of his being.

"Hey, Hiro... Any luck yet?" you asked, walking in holding a plate with a few sandwiches. He looked at you like he could throw himself out of the window at that very instant. "Yeesh."

"I'm stuck. I'm just utterly, and completely, stuck," he answered, disheartened and annoyed, with a prominent vein popping on his forehead — the tell-tale sign he was operating at peak stress capabilities.

You put the plate on the desk and sat on the edge to avoid ruffling up his papers.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Hiro?" you asked, with clear concern in your voice. He worked too much most of the time.

Hiromi spun on his chair to look at you for a second, grabbing one of the sandwiches.

"This is fine, love. Thank you."

Upon closer inspection, he really looked like he was three heartbeats short of a heart attack.

"Hiromi, you need to relax..." you cooed, giving him a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Maybe try taking a break?"

"I can't. I can't leave this desk. I feel like I almost got it, but it keeps slipping away! Dammit," he complained with his mouth half full while covering his face with his hands.

You sighed, and walked behind him, starting to massage his shoulders. He felt like a boulder underneath your touch, and it took a while for him to actually begin relaxing, putting his food back on the plate and dangling his head back with his eyes closed.

"Is that good?"

Hiromi simply nodded, and you sighed, a little more relieved. However, his muscles were still very much stiff, and there was no way he'd be able to continue working like this.

That was when you had a wicked little idea.

“Hey, Hiro, I think you need a break.”

“My love, I can’t. I’ve almost-“

“Let me rephrase that — you will take a break right now,” you answered him, starting to pull on his chair enough to separate him from his desk, “because I had an idea. And you won’t have to leave your desk.”

Hiromi looked at you confused, but offered no resistance when you pulled him away from his papers. Swiftly, you walked in front of him and kneeled, sliding under his desk.

“What are you-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you put both hands on his thighs and rolled him back in your direction, sneaky fingers quickly unzipping his pants.

“I’m taking care of my dear, beloved husband,” you cooed with a mischievous smile on your face.

Hiromi looked down at you, shuddering the moment you pressed your hands on his clothed cock and started to massage it over his boxers, his pupils slowly growing larger and larger. Hiromi’s mouth fell open, his breathing growing heavier as he gazed at you.

You could feel his length hardening under your touch, and rested your face over his thigh while you kept softly stroking him. Hiromi’s hand made its way towards your face, his thumb brushing circles around your cheek. Your eyes met his, and you smiled at him, robbing him of a blush and some fluttering blinks.

For the first time today, Hiromi actually felt the pent up stress easing on him. His relaxation now had become more evident from the way your husband began slouching himself on his chair. His resolve to keep tinkering with his work evaporated for the time being, something only you got to do with Hiromi.

His work was first to anything, except when it came to you.

Feeling more and more satisfied with that, you finally downed his boxers, just to see his now throbbing, red cock slapping with a soft thud against his skin. From his mouth, the faintest whimper tumbled out, and oh did that rile you up just right.

Not wasting any time, you gave a few licks over his tip, tasting the salty pre cum just forming a tiny drop over his slit. That robbed Hiromi from some little moans and gasps, right before you finally downed his length inside your mouth, glazing it all over with wet, warm saliva.

”You... t-take such good care-- of me... fuck“ Hiromi’s fingers tangled in your hair, lovingly massaging their way through, and it was you now who let out a tiny mewl, eliciting a broken moan from his lips.

You had your mouth as deep as you could without choking yourself, and bobbed your head up and down his shaft, as one of your hands pumped the rest of his length down to the base, pulling your other hand up to massage his tightening balls. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and at that moment, he let out a strained whimper rolling his eyes back, biting his lips.

”Such a good wife-- s-so good for me-- ohhh perfect... shit... ohhhh--”

His praises were definitely arousing, to say the least, and you clenched your thighs together, relieving — even if just a little — the pulsing need aching in your core while you had both of your hands full with him.

Hiromi got lost in the pleasure, and barely noticed his entire body relaxing, which led to his legs starting to push him away from you. Your hand that previously was around his balls instantly shot up, holding him by his buttoned shirt. The moment you pulled him in your direction, edging his cock even deeper in your tight, hot, slick mouth, he involuntarily bucked his hips, tip hitting the roof of your mouth.

You moaned with your lips around his shaft, and started to suck on it more intently. Hiromi’s head dangled back, his own desperate moans and whimpers coming muffled in between his teeth and bitten bottom lip. Both of his hands now stroked your hair, anxiously making a mess out of you, just as much you were making a mess out of him.

”I’m gonna c-cum... Can I... inside-- p-please-- m-my love, ohhhhh-- please... please”

To hear him beg desperately like that was definitely one of your favorite sounds in the world.

You moaned back at him a muffled mm-hmm, and from his lips fell some louder whimpers, his fingers tensing around your head.

He came with a shiver shooting all throughout his entire body, warm spurts of his thick cum blossoming hot over your tongue, glazing your entire mouth and throat.

Your hand on his shirt tightened, crumpling it like paper, as you drank his essence in, swallowing down everything as your pumping over his length finally slowed down, his cock twitching under your touch to let out his final drops.

Letting go from his cock with an audible pop after your were finished, you looked up at him, and for a moment, you felt like you could cum from that sight alone. His flushed, loving, little fucked out face, smiling at you with those luster-filled ashy eyes. It was definitely a sight to behold.

You rested your face over his thigh, longingly looking at him, and Hiromi’s hand cupped the side of your face.

“I love you, darling,” he cooed with a husky, low voice.

“I love you too, Hiro.”

Out of nowhere, though, his gaze slowly morphed, and his eyebrows shot up, as if Hiromi had remembered something.

“Hiro, is everything okay?”

“I think I just might have thought of a way to salvage this case.”

De-stressing really helped Hiromi with work, apparently, and you’d help him every time he needed to.

Gladly.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

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notaplaceofhonour · 1 year ago

Note

Whats worse about that thumbnail is that the image of the (((Evil Zionist))) pro Israel people, I instantly recognized as the image of liberated survivors of Buchenwald.

Like how do you make a four hour rant about Jews claim it's not antisemitic then go use a photo of Shoah survivors and not go hmm maybe things like Buchenwald help me to understand why Jews want their homeland

YEESH

#antisemitism #jessie gender bs #i/p #shoah #jumblr

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raining-anonymously · 7 months ago

Text

How are you making it to midnight?

(exclusive crew interview under the cut!)

It should be easy, no? This is exactly like staying up late studying— except actually enjoyable. Cheers!

Me? I’m too old for this shit. Responsibly, I’ll be going to bed at a reasonable hour. Nah, I’m yanking your chain! I’ll be knockin’ back a fuckton of joe. That’ll keep me up, all right!

Oh, dude, I’m totally set!! Cap got us some sweetener since it’s a special occasion, and I ate FOUR PACKETS!!! I can feel my heartbeat in my eyes!!!! Man, I’m not gonna sleep for WEEKS!!!!!! Happy New Year!!!

Me? Shouldn’t be an issue. My insomnia keeps me up past midnight most days anyway!

Wh— That’s not a good thing!

It is tonight, yeah? Anyway, I’ve got a bet going with Jimmy over who stays up the longest, so—

Great, so both our pilots ain’t getting any sleep. I feel real safe.

We’ll be all right. Last year he only made it until 10:30.

Yeesh! Common Jimmy L.

What the hell does that mean?

Yeah, Curly and I bet on who can stay awake the longest. I’m counting on that to motivate me awake. I lost last year. If I lose again I’m killing everyone on this ship and then myself.

Polle says: Happy New Year!

#mouthwashing #anya mw #swansea mw #daisuke mw #curly mw #jimmy mw #writing anonymously #drawing anonymously #tulpar crew #colored text #captain curly #anya mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing curly

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in1-nutshell · 1 year ago

Text

Ironhold meeting MTMTE Megatron (Longer version)

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Romance, Cybertronain reader

G1/MTMTE

Since they could remember, Ironhold was told that they had exceptional luck.

Ironhold didn’t believe in luck.

They thought that ‘luck’ was a type of way to shift the blame on their own actions. They hated when bots would try and shift their blame onto ‘unexplained’ things. Things happened for a reason and those reasons were based off the bot. If something bad happened, it wasn’t ‘bad luck’, it was the bots fault in the end.

But right now, Ironhold was willing to make an exception to that rule.

For the past month they had been trying to get their schedule aligned with their soon to be (hopefully) Conjunx’s schedule. It had been cycles since they had properly had time together and they really wanted to be with him right now.

They wanted to talk about their day with him, hear his tall tales and horribly cheesy jokes, they just wanted to hold him tight in their arms without fearing the alarm clock would sound off in the few nanoclicks they had in between.

“Yeesh. What crawled up your tailpipe and died?”

Ironhold looked unamused as they passed by Thundercracker with their datapads. They didn’t have the energy to deal with him today. Heck, they didn’t have much energy to deal with most bots today. Grimlock could come ramming through the wall and they wouldn’t even bat an optic.

They just wanted to turn in today’s datapads and move on with the day.

“Ironhold. Recharging well?”

The red visor of the third in command flickered a bit ending the sentence.

“Not too well Soundwave, but I’ll live.”

“You’re not recharging well? How come?”

“I’m fine Thundercracker. The business of me recharging is not anyone’s concern.”

Soundwave crosses his arms at that statement.

“But can’t you like, asks Megatron to take a load off?”

Ironhold vents deeply.

“It’s not about sleep.”

“Correction. About Rumble.”

Ironhold was once again glad that they could not ‘blush’ like humans could. If they did, they might as well look like one of those ‘tomatoes’. Clearing their intake they spoke.

“What is between Rumble and I—”

“None of your concern. Yeah, not so much Hold. Wait! I bet you two haven’t had any alone time and that’s why you’re angry!”

Maybe Ironhold had underestimated Thundercracker after all, and if he could figure it out Skywarp would find out by the end of the month. Or two. Okay maybe four if they were being honest.

“And if this were true… what would you suggest I do?”

“Are you asking for help?”

“…Yes.”

The Seekers optics widened a bit. He hadn’t expected that they’d actually ask for HIS help. Hopefully he wouldn’t screw it up.

“I mean, if trying to plan around schedules hasn’t worked, then maybe ask for favors or ask Megatron to give you two some time. Maybe say its for, what was the human term ‘sick day’? Do we have those?”

Ironhold ignored that last comment, mainly because they didn’t know either, but did consider asking Megatron if one more revision didn’t work out. Or perhaps the favors, they did have many bots owing them favors… it could work.

“Maybe you’re right Thundercracker. I’ll give it a try.”

They nod at him and begin to go to the door before stopping and turning to Soundwave.

“Do you know where Frenzy and Starscream are?”

…

“I can’t believe we finally have some time together! How long has it been? A millennia?”

“It’s been one month, 10 days, 5 hours, and 30 minutes but who’s counting?”

Turns out asking Frenzy was a lot easier than expected. Maybe it had something to do with Rumble’s constant ‘moaning and whining’ about not having any time with Ironhold. He practically dumped Rumble at their pedes when they asked him to take the shift.

Starscream was a bit trickier to get a hold of.

But no one ever denied some wax on the wings with a sane mind.

So now it was just Ironhold and Rumble walking down the halls of the Nemesis. Ironhold had these plans to go out for a while and they were going to make the best out of it. The nearby drive-in movie theater had the slasher film that Rumble had mentioned maybe seeing and today was the last day they were showing it. If they got there on time, they could also find a nice shady spot to watch from.

“Hello? Earth to Ironhold? Hello? Anybot home?”

Ironhold snapped out of their train of thought and looked down at a slightly amussed Rumble. He was holding their servo. Even after a while of dating, Ironhold still marveled at the size difference between their servo and rumbles. His was practically engulfed in theirs. They squeezed a bit.

“So, what movie do you want to see this time?”

Ironhold made a face pretending to think.

“Hmm… don’t know…”

Rumble gives them a look.

“Aw, c’mon Hold, you always have a movie on your processor. I’m sure you can think of one that doesn’t stink. Unless…”

The minicon slides in front of them giving them a teasing smirk.

“You DO have a movie in mind.”

Ironhold playfully scoffs and continues to walk.

“Excuse you—”

“Yes?”

Ironhold lets out a chuckle before patting his helm.

He swats it playfully before taking the lead again.

“Ironhold we’ve talk about doing that!”

Ironhold gives him a loving smirk.

“Well, My Spark, you were asking for it.”

Rumble stammered a bit before angrily stopping in front of them. It wasn’t actual anger, just a little fit that would fix in a few minutes on its own.

But as it turned out, it would take less time to completely ruin their plans. Especially when a colorful portal came and started dragging everything in that wasn’t nailed to the ground. Like a minicon.

“Hold!”

That was all Rumble needed to say before jumping in after him. Holding onto the ledge of the portal didn’t seem possible, yet they were doing it. One servo holding onto Rumble’s servo while the other was gripping the ledge.

“What is going on over there?!”

Never had Starscream’s shriek given them this much joy. Joy that was short lived when they felt the smaller servo slip out of theirs.

Ironhold didn’t think.

They just let go.

The pink and green swirl soon turned into darkness once their entire frame hit something cold and wet.

…

When Rumble woke up, he half expected to see Ironhold’s disappointed face hearing the clocks alarm. Except he was in their arms… or in their semi shared berth… or in their room… The minicon jumped up, pillars up and ready to plow down the next bot who touched him. And boy were there a lot of Autobots around. There was something strange about them too. The looked… off. He couldn’t exactly say what was wrong, but there was defiantly something new from the bots he was used to. But a familiar looking felicon approached him.

“Ravage? Is that you? Where is Soundwave and the others?”

The felicon raised his optics a bit.

“You’re not Rumble.”

“And you’re not Ravage! You can talk!”

“Of course I can talk! And Rumble is with Soundwave right now.”

“If I may.”

The tall turquoise bot stepped closer to the minicon. His servos tightly around a yellow briefcase.

“This Rumble is not from our universe.”

This was certainly something.

Rumble pointed at the bright yellow suitcase.

“And what’s with the suitcase? You gotta bomb in there?”

A larger figure came through the crowd. This had to be one of the biggest mech on the ship, Rumble was sure of it. There was no mistaking the grey paint job and aura of authority.

“Not a bomb, it does however travel through time.”

Rumble was definitely going to ask about that later, but right now he was taking in the sheer size of this Megatron. Primus did this universe make everyone taller and bigger?!

“Megatron!”

He nods at him and then at the bot.

“I am Brainstorm, the smartest—”

The red bot next to him, that strangely looked like Perceptor (maybe he was?), nudged him on the side. Brainstorm grunted a bit at the hit before clarifying.

“One of the smartest scientists on the Lost Light. I may be the reason why you and your companion are in our universe. You see, I created a machine of sorts in my recharge, still wonder how I did that, and as it turns out it opens to different universes. Now this would be better on a mass scale and—”

The red bot interrupted.

“Brainstorm, the topic.”

“Oh yes, thank you Perceptor. To keep things short, anyone who came through that portal is now in our dimension somewhere on the ship.”

Rumble’s optics widen under his visor. What did this bot mean by ‘universe’? As far as he knew there was only one… or maybe there were more out there. He really needed to stop hanging around Skywarp, as the humans said, his braincells were dying faster with him around. But the last sentence finally registered in his mind.

“Wait you said someone else came through? But who would…”

The realization sends his pillars back and replaced with his servos, now making home on his helm. This made many of the bots around him look surprised if not borderline shocked. The Rumble of this universe would never act out like this. Who or what was this minicon so worried about.

“Oh of course that dumb, selfless, stinkin’, loveable scrap for brains would jump in after me! Primus that dumb bot is going to be the death of me!”

Did… did Rumble have a Conjunx? Maybe Amica? Nah, that was not how Rumble was…

Right?

“Loveable?”

Rumble looked up at Megatron.

“Ironhold jumped in after me!”

“Who is Ironhold?”

The minicon stopped in his tracks and stared in disbelief at the war lord.

“What do you mean—Ironhold! Hold! My Hold! Ringing any bells up there?”

Another red bot steps forward.

“I don’t think anyone’s heard that name before. Maybe they are exclusive to your universe only?”

Megatron and Perceptor give him a surprised look.

The red bot looked slightly offended.

“Hey, I’ve watched these kind of things during movie night. I know some things.”

Megatron clears his intake.

“Thank you for your insight Rodimus, and he is right Rumble. No one we know goes by that designation.”

Rumble sees the flash of red on his chassis.

An Autobot insignia.

…

“Megatron… what is that Autobot badge doing on yer’ chassis…?”

Megatron instinctively touches the insignia and looks slightly ashamed.

The red bot, Rodimus, answered his question.

“The war’s over. Megatron here surrendered.”

“…”

“Rumble—”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SURRENDERED?!”

Megatron and most bots winced at the sudden yelling.

The Ex-war lord looked at him.

“It means I surrendered. I am not going into more details.”

Rumble almost sneered at the autoboot badge on his chassis.

“No wonder you lost the war. Ironhold wouldn’t have given up so easily.”

Megatron just vented tiredly. Rodimus, having a bit of pity for his fellow Co-Captain. He smiles a bit at Rumble.

“Listen, we’ll find Ironhold. Might be a bit difficult looking for a minicon—”

“They aren’t a minicon.”

Rodimus looks at him.

“They aren’t?”

“No. Why did you think they were?”

“I just assumed they were another cassette on the team.”

Rumble huffed.

“They aren’t a mini and you aren’t going to find them either.”

Rodimus huffed a bit at the comment.

“And pray tell why?”

Rumble gives him a smirk.

“They don’t do that whole ‘getting found’ thing. They find you. The only reason you’re gonna find them is if they want you to find them. And believe me pal, it takes a lot to get them to—”

The doors swing open revealing a red minibot with a blue visor.

“Something just came out of the oil reserves like the Creature of the Black Lagoon and is shooting everything!”

“That’s Ironhold for ya.”

The chattering stopped at the sudden thud sounds coming from above.

A large pede kicked the opening lid and a rather large bot dripping with oil and two large blasters aimed at the group. Their optics shift and scanning each bot until they spot Rumble. The bots could see the brief flash of relief in their optics.

“Rumble?”

“Ironhold!”

The larger bot clicked their blasters at the group.

“I swear to the Allspark, if you don’t hand him over, there will be no medic alive who would put you back together—Megatron? Ravage?”

They lowered their blasters a bit.

“What is going—”

The red Autobot badge catches their optic.

“…on? Primus, did I hit my helm. What is this?!”

Rumble just races up to them and jumps. Ironhold expertly catches him with one arm while the others still had the blaster in servo. Rumble hugged them best he could, he swore he felt a shudder coming from their frame. The minicon took both his servos and grabbed their faces making them look at him.

“Listen Hold, just put down the blasters and they’ll explain things.”

Ironhold gripped the blasters a bit tighter.

“Hold…”

The larger bot slowly put down their weapons but still held Rumble in one arm. They glared at the ex-war lord.

“Explain. Now.”

…

This was definitely a new for them both.

Ironhold had never really considered there being another universe or universes out there. But this ship, this crew proved them wrong. To hear that this universes war was over was… strange. There had always been a war, without fighting what were they going to do? They looked down at Rumble, who was rambling to ravage about something and something clicked.

The reason why they fought.

A better future for them and all Cybertronains to live equally.

For them to have a life with Rumble.

To live in peace.

“Its going to take some time, but we should have a way to get you two back home.”

“Thank you Brainstorm.”

Rodimus walked up to them and Rumble.

“As long as you two are here, you are honorary members of the Lost Light! I don’t know if you caught the name, but I’m Rodimus Prime. Co-Captain of the Lost Light.”

Ironhold and Rumble’s optics went wide.

“What happened to Optimus?”

“Co-Captain isn’t a rank.”

Rodimus waved his servo off handedly.

“Long story short, Optimus was dead, I became a Prime, Megs here shot me in the chassis, Optimus came back and I’m still here.”

Ironhold looked like they were going to slap someone.

“And Megatron is our other Co-Captain.”

“Whose bright idea was this? Skywarp? Nah couldn’t be him. That’s like saying Starscream is the Ruler of Cybertron.”

Ironhold chuckled a bit at Rumble’s joke.

“How do you know that?”

Both Cons looked at Megatron in disbelief.

“…Say sike right now…”

“Rumble—”

“Say sike right now!”

“Starscream?! Why? Who? What…?”

The red and white sword mech behind Rodimus chuckled.

“That’s another long story.”

Rumble pouted a bit.

“Is there anywhere on this ship were we can get some rations? Bots starving here.”

The red and white minibot, Swerve cracked a wide smile.

“We got something better, we gotta bar!”

“A bar?!”

…

Even after a couple of days on the ship, Rumble couldn’t remember having so much energon and not having to be told to save it for later. He is seriously considering moving to this new universe with Soundwave and Ironhold. The pair still hadn’t even met half of the ship, but that was probably for the vest. Speaking of which, Ironhold was taking in the engex slowly, like they did back home. Always savoring it and keeping it in as long as possible to make it last.

The tall purple bot, which Rumble was sure was a con at first glance, placed a servo on their shoulder.

“We are no longer at war. There is enough for everyone here.”

“… old habits die hard…”

“I understand.”

Ironhold smiled a bit.

“And you are?”

“I am Cyclonus—”

“And I’m Tailgate!”

The three of them nearly had whiplash when the white and blue minibot popped out of nowhere and began spitting out questions almost as fast as Swerve had been doing when they first stepped foot in the bar. Rumble still doesn’t know how Ironhold didn’t sock him in the mouth.

“—and then I woke up here in the med bay with Whirl, he’s that bot over there,let me introduce you to him! Whirl! Hey Whirl!”

A turquoise empurata bot walked up to the bar were the group was.

“What is it Panic Button?”

Tailgate didn’t seem to be bothered by the nickname.

“Have you met the honorary members yet?”

“You mean the ones that will be out of our helm in a few hours from now? I heard Brianstorm saying something about the finishing touches on the portal gun.”

Ironhold smiled and turned to the bot.

“Really? Is it true?”

Whirl snapped his claws.

“Are you and Rumble Junxies?”

He knew the tone was a teasing one, he knew that it was a code for yes…

But that didn’t stop the warm feeling in his chassis from blooming.

“Whirl, Rumble and I aren’t Conjunx Endura.”

Whirl looked at the taller bot with a squint in his optic.

“Amica?”

“No.”

“… Will you be though or…”

Ironhold sighs a bit.

“We haven’t done that yet.”

“Unless you want to.”

The words spilled out so quickly Rumble had to take a few seconds to realize what he said.

He said he wanted to be bonded to Ironhold.

In public.

Millions of what ifs and scenarios, both good and bad bloomed. If he couldn’t even keep his helm straight, why would he even attempt to bond with them?

“Cause if you’re free… I can show you how we do things in this universe~”

Whirl’s claw found its way near Ironhold’s servo.

Sod it.

“GET YOUR FILTHY CLAWS OFF THEM! THEY ARE MY FUTURE CONJUNX AND—”

“Really?”

Ironhold held a look of… hope and love.

Yes, this was definitely the right decision.

“Ye-yeah, if you’d have me?”

What came out next was something that Rumble would never think would happen to him in real life.

One, Ironhold picking him up and spinning around in a bar.

Two, squealing ‘YES!’ over and over again.

And Three, Megatron in the background once again frozen in place while the phrase ‘You are the father!’ played in the background.

Suddenly a familiar looking portal appeared on the bar’s floor.

Brainstorm running in.

“Fixed it!”

Ironhold pulled him closer giving him a smile.

“Time for us to head home?”

He smiled back.

“Yeah! Let’s blow this pop stand! Later losers!”

Together they waved goodbye to their new friends and jumped into the portal.

…

“What do you mean they fell through the floor?!”

“It means, THEY FELL THROUGH THE FLOOR!”

Soundwave sighed for the 300th time this hour.

The search for Rumble and Ironhold had yet again reached a dead end, and at this point Soundwave was considering talking to the Autobot’s to help widen the search.

“Starscream nothing that you just said made sense!”

“But it’s true Megatron!”

The Second in Command stomped the floor.

“Right here! Right here is where they just vanished—”

POP!

Rumble and Ironhold fell through the portal and landed on a screaming Starscream.

Megatron and Soundwave helped the two up.

Rumble suddenly stood up and jumped up.

“THEY SAID YES!”

“Rumble: Location. Explanation.”

“Later Boss! I gotta a Conjunx ceremony to plan with Hold!”

Megatron froze in place, something many Megatron’s seemed to have.

“Wha—”

“You’re right! We need to make sure the location is set.”

“And don’t forget the placements!”

The pair eagerly walked back to their habsuite leaving the three mech’s dumbfounded.

“What.”

“The…”

“BEEEEEPPPPPPP!”

“Soundwave! My audials!”

“Quiet Starscream!”

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #mtmte x reader #mtmte x platonic reader #ironhold #transformers g1 #g1 transformers x reader #g1 transformers x platonic reader #Ironhold x Rumble

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pretend-theres-a-name-here · 8 months ago

Text

Hide Your Heart pt.4

Part four of the Steve Harrington has bad parents au. I would’ve posted this last night but I past out right after finishing the chapter in an daze of insomnia

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Steve had been up for hours, waiting for his parents to come back. Maybe he was right and they were never coming back. What if they had just packed up and taken off without a goodbye? It wouldn’t be the first time they’d done that, making excuses about flight times and scheduling errors.

He decided to clean the kitchen, like he always did when he was stressed. It was three in the morning, he was standing on top of the counter to dust the overly complicated light fixture in the kitchen, when the front door banged open. He heard a shrill cackle and the sound of furniture being jostled around. They were drunk, of course they were fucking drunk. He was just about to hop down off the counter when his mother stumbled into the kitchen.

“Wha-h-what’re you doin’ on the cowter, Steven?” She snorted, falling against the table and slouching her head down to lay on it.

“Nothing, mother. You should get to bed.” He got down, taking her arm to guide her up the stairs. His father was passed out on the couch, he would have to keep his call with Eddie quiet.

“Oh, Stevie, you would’ve loved the dessert!”

Steve’s stomach dropped, he tried to pay attention to her rambling but he couldn’t listen to her gush about the chocolate cake because his mother hadn’t called him Stevie since the first trip they took. He was 8 years old, she had wrapped him in her arms and whispered how much she would miss him and how it would be over before he knew it into his hair. She had held his hand until she had to get in the car and the nanny had to pull him back. She was losing consciousness, words slurring as she drifted and her head hit the pillow with a snore.

Steve sat a cup of water on her bedside, alongside tylenol for when she woke up, he pressed his lips to her forehead on his way out, “Goodnight, mother.” He whispered before closing the door.

He dragged a kitchen chair over to where the phone hung on the wall, slumping into it as he put in Eddie’s number. It wasn’t until he was listening to the faint click on the receiving end that he remembered his father snoring on the couch. It was too late to hang up, so he resigned himself to whispering and praying that his father didn’t wake up in a drunken stupor.

“Mh’ello?” Eddie’s voice mumbled sleepily.

Steve breathed out, a sigh of guilt, “Hi, I can call later if—”

“Stevie,” Eddie’s voice filled with warmth and Steve bit back a grin, there were no bittersweet memories that plagued his mind when Eddie said the name, “always up to talk to you, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure?” He whispered, already preparing to make himself hang up.

“I promise.” Eddie said it so sincerely, sounding genuinely happy that he called, who was Steve to argue?

“Ok,” It was so quiet, barely a word, Steve wasn’t sure if he spoke it or if it was his breath that formed the word of its own accord.

“Is there a reason we’re whispering?” Eddie asked, playing along anyway. Steve could hear the playful smirk in his voice. What he wouldn’t give to see it in person.

“My father’s asleep on the couch.” Steve told him.

Eddie hummed, “Trouble in paradise?”

“Try too drunk to make it through the front door.”

“Yeesh,” Eddie mumbled, “you gonna be okay over there?”

“I’ll be fine, s’long as he doesn’t wake up.”

He hears Eddie’s big, dramatic gasp, “Risking it for little ole me, Harrington?” And it sounds joking but Steve knows, he knows that Eddie knows it’s not a joke.

“The things I do for you,” he shoots back anyway, because he’s delusional. Because maybe he wishes it could be just a joke. Because he’ll take the humor when he can.

Eddie’s tone changes then, more concerned, “It’s almost one am, Stevie, you planning on sleeping tonight?”

“You know I can’t.” He sighs.

“You should at least try. It’ll be easier to get through the week if you’re not falling asleep at the wheel.”

“I don’t even know if they’re going to be here for a week.” He paused, falling quiet, “Is it messed up that I don’t want them to stay?”

He heard Eddie sigh, “I can’t pretend to know what that’s like but you’re allowed to feel however you want about them. You’re the one who has to live with this, that means you decide how you feel about them.”

“What if he’s right, though?” Steve mumbled. What if everything my father says about me is true and I’m a no good freeloader?

“He’s not right about you.” Eddie told him, understanding immediately, speaking again when Steve started to protest, “He’s not right about you, Steve. I know you and I know you don’t deserve this. So you know what, live in his house and spend his money and do whatever the hell you want because if he can’t pretend to care about you then fuck him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re crazy, you know?” Steve said because he wasn’t going to start tearing up again.

“So I’ve been told. You don’t get accused of devil worship and witchcraft for nothing, my love.”

“Can you witchcraft my routine back?” Steve asked around a yawn.

“Oh yeah, all you gotta do is go to sleep.”

Steve groaned, “No. I miss you.”

“See me in your dreams, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes because he could feel the exaggerated wink in Eddie’s voice, “That was terrible. Like, astoundingly awful.”

“I’d say I miss you too but I’m not sure I miss the attitude. Your inner mean girl is surfacing, Stevie.”

“You’re horrible, I’m just trying to go to sleep and my own boyfriend is bullying me.” He muttered with no real conviction.

Eddie gasped, “I knew you were tired!”

“Shhhh, let me sleep.” He didn’t hang up though, just settled into the kitchen chair and propped himself up against the wall next to the phone.

“It’s almost like that’s what I was trying to do, weird.” The sound of blankets rustling drifted from the other end of the line and Steve guessed Eddie was getting back in bed.

“Can you—” Steve hesitated, “Will you keep talking? Just until I can sleep?”

He hadn’t asked anyone this in a long time, not since his father had lectured him on independence and being a man. Maybe Eddie would finally see him as the loser he was, too much of a baby to handle one night alone.

But Eddie just hummed, “Nerdy snoozefest or something interesting?”

I love him. Steve would tell him later but now wasn’t the time, “Whatever you want.”

“Anything? Even the newest campaign I’m helping Dustin plan?”

Steve pushed back a sigh and agreed, pulling his legs up onto the chair as Eddie started his ramble with a gleeful ‘You’ve been warned’.

He talked and talked about creatures and myths. He went on a whole tangent about how Dustin was dead set on adding some thing that sounded like some weird dessert Steve’s great aunt Marge used to bring to Christmas dinner, a gelatinous cube he called it. Steve couldn’t keep up if he tried, and he had tried but even though he surrounded himself with a whole gaggle of nerds their mile-a-minute words were still lost on him. So instead he closed his eyes and let Eddie’s voice wash over him until he felt himself nodding off.

When Steve woke up again he was still in the chair—thank God he’d grabbed one with arms or he would have been on the floor. The first thing he registered was the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window, so it was still nighttime. The second thing he noticed was the phone still wedged between his shoulder and ear, soft breathing so close he could almost feel it puffing through the speaker. He sat up, grabbing the phone and popping his neck, only to wince at the sharp pain that shot through his spine. The wooden back of the chair dug into his own back.

“Eds?” He whispered, voice strained.

“Mh-wha?” Eddie’s disoriented mumbling would never not bring a smile to Steve’s face.

“You fell asleep, we both did.”

“Oh. What time is it?”

Steve craned his neck to check the clock, “Two a.m.”

Eddie yawned and then groaned, “Way too early to be awake.”

Steve agreed, “I’m going to hang up and go to bed, okay? Remind me to never sleep upright again.”

“Okay. Night, babe.” Eddie whispered, “I love you.” He added, like it was the easiest thing to say in the world.

Steve realized it was when he said it back, feeling a soft smile spread across his face, “I love you too.”

He was about to hang up, hand already reaching for the wall, when a shadow stumbled into the room.

“Father—” He stood lightning fast, dropping the phone and feeling the cord stretch before coiling back together.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Fun fact: I Struggled writing their call because I had No Ideas. You can probably tell but I Can Not be bothered to rewrite it, it’s mostly filler anyway

Part 5

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Pretend writes

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limeade-l3sbian · 5 months ago

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had my first wisdom tooth extraction today and tell me why the body is so dramatic. i had been completely fine until i was sitting in the dentist chair, then my heart starting bbestign erratically, i was shaking and sweating, just generally having a real dramatic physical reaction, only for the extraction itself, after the local anaesthetic had been applied, take like two minutes, AT MOST, with no pain whatsoever. yet i didn’t stop shaking until after like an hour 💀

It's kinda scary to go into it! Needles, teeth, nerve endings, eugh. Are you so wrong to worry? I say no!

When i got mine removed (all four at once, yeesh) they put me under and when i woke up, i started crying and says, "I love Hayes so much." At the time, Hayes was a character that i had been writing about. My dad had been driving me home and he was like, "Haha, what are you saying? Who is Hayes, LImeade?" And then I took a dramatic turn and was like, "I should've fucking killed myself," and he was like, "Jesus, Limeade. No, no you shouldn't have, don't say that." 😭

#ask

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cosmicaces · 6 months ago

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hello, uh, i wrote something for my chicken/subsumption au! if you're interested in learning more about it, you can check out my tag for it or you can send an ask my way ^-^

The detective greeted him with a warm smile and a wave. "Hello. Ready to go?" He forced a smile back. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The waiting room was quiet, save for the occasional cough and clack of a keyboard. Artificial light rained down from the ceiling, gleaming waves of white reflecting from the tiled floor. The only notable colors to be found were from the baby blue material of the seat cushions and the green of the dangling leaves from a potted plant.

Rody sunk into his seat, tapping his finger against his upper arm. He glanced over at the magazine rack next to him, raising a brow before reaching over and selecting one at random. A woman was on the cover, four, purple claws covering the right side of her face. She wore a red dress, piercing yellow eyes lit up for the camera. She was advertising something in a bottle. He didn't know what it was supposed to be; he couldn't read what that was written.

He sighed, absently thumbing through the pages. The detective — Rody couldn't remember his name — had said that he would be here to pick him up. However, he didn't specify when. A passing glance at the clock made him hope that it was to be no later than noon. He didn't think he could handle waiting another hour.

Rody was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of automatic doors.

"Whaddya know, complaining works," he muttered to no one, straightening himself up.

The detective greeted him with a warm smile and a wave. "Hello. Ready to go?"

He forced a smile back. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Rody couldn't remember the last time he was in the back seat of a car, staring out the window at an unfamiliar city. Now that he was thinking about it… he didn't think there ever was a time.

He didn't think he had ever seen so much vehicle traffic in one place, either. Jams weren't uncommon on the bridge back home but the congestion here was on some whole other level.

Rody slumped against his seat, absently toying with the hairtie around his wrist. His eyes flitted over to the detective. The man hadn't uttered a word since they got on the road. Rody didn't care much for small talk but here, well, he found himself wishing for it. Anything to dissolve the air of unease that had crawled into the silence between them.

But there wasn't anything for either of them to say. There was only business.

Rody huffed out a quiet breath of air as he leaned against the window, his seatbelt pressing tight into his shoulder. Every passing second was making the dread in his stomach bury itself deeper. He could only hope that they'd get there soon.

Excessive was the first thought that popped into Rody's mind when he first saw the school, giant towers of reflective windows shining like a beacon admist a sea of trees. He had read online that this was a prestigious school, but actually seeing it in person highlighted how ridiculous it was. All of this for the next generation of heroes… yeesh. It was an issue back home, too; he'd heard about how schools that offered hero courses would receive more funding than schools that didn't. Stupid.

For a school as critically acclaimed as this, Rody certainly wasn't expecting to be met by a disheveled man dressed in black and some kind of animal mascot. The detective was entirely unphased.

"Hello!" the animal said. He definitely wasn't expecting the animal to talk. "My name is Nezu, the one who could be a dog or a mouse or a bear, but, more importantly, I am the principal of this school! Welcome!" Nezu held his paw out in greeting. "You must be Rody, correct?"

"Uh, yeah." Principal? Rody took his paw and Nezu gave his hand a firm shake. Not the most bizarre interaction he's had but it was definitely up there. "Charmed."

The… principal looked up at him with a friendly-enough smile, black beady eyes shining in the light of the sun. "Accompanying me is one of our teachers." He gestured to the man next to him.

If the teacher was a hero, well, he certainly didn't look the part. The man had messy, black hair which, combined with his bloodshot eyes, made him look as though he had just rolled out of bed. A scar cut underneath his right eye. He wore a baggy black suit with the pant legs tucked into matching black boots and some kind of utility belt around his waist. The most notable thing was a thin, silvery scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders. Unlike Nezu, the man simply gave him a half-hearted wave.

"I am Shota Aizawa," he greeted, voice flat. "Greetings."

Nezu gave a friendly nod in his direction before turning back towards Rody. "Detective Tsukaichi has already filled me in on the details regarding your situation and we are currently in the process of relaying that information to our staff and students. We hope to make your stay here with us as comfortable as possible. Follow me, please! The dormitories are right this way." He snapped around, folding his arms behind his back before continuing down a path that lead behind the main building.

Rody tugged at his hairtie, focusing on the feeling of it pulled taut against his wrist before taking a step forward. A nervous ball of energy coiled in his stomach and knotted it tight, a lump forming at the base of his throat. He didn't like being surrounded like this, Nezu in front with the teacher and detective to either side. He was supposed to be safe here, but Rody couldn't help but feel caged in.

"So, uh…" he cleared his throat, "what's the deal? Am I supposed to stay cooped up in a building all day or…"

Nezu hummed. "I'm sorry to say that we are still figuring that out ourselves. As you are a guest here, we unfortunately cannot allow you free reign of the campus. Should you find that you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask one of our staff members for assistance. They can escort you to where you need to be. If you have any concerns about your needs, I can assure you that we will do what we can to make sure that they are met. Food, clothing, enrichment, it will all be taken care of."

The use of the word enrichment made Rody raise a brow but he thought better than to question it.

The teacher — Shota? — cleared his throat. "What has been decided is that you are to see the school nurse on a weekly basis. You aren't going to be poked and prodded; it's only to monitor how you're recovering," he added plainly. Rody didn't realize he visibly tensed.

"That's right," Nezu nodded. "It's your decision as to whether or not you want us to look into what happened with your quirk. Any actions to be taken will need to be done with your permission." His tone was soft yet firm. This seemed to mean a lot to him. "Ah! Here we are."

Looming before them was one of many near-identical buildings, the only difference being the print on the front. This one was clearly labeled 'STAFF.'

Rody had hardly finished gawking when he realized that the principal was already up the steps.

"Right this way, please!" Nezu gestured for him to follow.

His initial thought of excessive still rang true. Unlike the tight spaces he was accustomed to, the common area was wide open. There were tables, couches, and tvs to either side of the room. The kitchen and accompanying dining area was to the left. He was told that he was welcome to anything in the cupboards. Laundry facilities were in the back in addition to a bathroom. Be respectful, keep things tidy. Duh.

The tour brought them to a spare room on the second floor of the left wing. Rody couldn't help but feel relieved, knowing that he didn't have to walk up multiple flights of stairs to get to sleep every night. There wasn't much for him to note about it. The curtains were drawn, revealing a small balcony behind sliding doors. A bed was pushed into the corner of the room. A dresser stood across from it. On one side, a small wastebasket. On the other, a desk with a swivel chair neatly tucked into the legspace. There was a closet door to his right. Behind him, another door that connected to a personal bathroom.

It was… odd, having this space to himself.

A pang of guilt thumped in Rody's chest. It wasn't fair for him to experience a luxury like this without his siblings. He should be bunked up in some cheap hotel, not in a place like this.

"It isn't much, but we hope that you can find this arrangement suitable," Nezu chirped. "If you have any requests regarding changes to your room, please do not hestitate to ask."

"Can I put in a request right now?"

"Certainly!"

"Can I have a bookshelf?"

The principal's eyes lit up. "Of course! We'll bring one in later today. For books, we have an on-site library. If nothing there is of any interest, we can have either a staff member or student accompany you to the shops."

"I need a chaperone off school grounds, too?!" Rody didn't even try to hide his disbelief.

"It's for your own safety," the teacher stated. "According to the incident report we received, the involved villain wasn't exactly keen on your escape. Going out in public would immediately put a target on your back." He stopped, observing him carefully. It seemed like there was more he wanted to say. Not that he needed to; the subtle edge to his gaze said it for him.

So… they don't fully trust me. Rody relaxed. That was something he was familiar with.

Nezu cleared his throat. "I know it isn't ideal, but I hope you can understand why we're taking such precautionary measures."

"Yeah, I get it, don't worry." He paused. "I bet the same goes for clothes shopping too, huh?"

The principal gave a sympathetic nod before gesturing to the dresser. "We have provided you with an assortment of different clothes based on what you told Detective Tsukaichi. I hope you find them to your liking."

Rody looked off to the side, recalling the conversation. So that's why he asked. "I'm not picky." He pressed his lips together, rubbing his arm. "… Thanks. For all of this."

"It isn't any trouble. You are our responsibility for the time being, after all." Nezu smiled up at him. It didn't make him feel any better.

Tsukaichi cast a sympathetic glance his way. "I would like to offer another apology to you, Rody. I am truly sorry that you are unable to go home, but I promise you that your case is our top priority." Just as he opened his mouth to say more, his pocket vibrated with the unmistakable buzz of a phone. He sighed. "I wish I could offer you more reassurance than that."

Nezu nodded in agreement. "For now, all that we can ask is that you try to make yourself comfortable. Once more, please do not hesitate to reach out to one of our staff members if you need anything."

"Got it."

And, just like that, they were gone.

And, just like that, he was alone.

Rody took a deep breath as he looked around the room again. It was made clear that this was meant to be his space but… there was nothing they could've said that would've chased away the feeling of being in a stranger's home.

He glanced towards the sliding door before walking over, careful to not glimpse his reflection as he poked his head outside. The sun had barely moved from its position in the sky, the school's windows catching its light with a brilliant glare. He furrowed his brow, sliding back inside and pulling the curtains shut.

Somewhere in that building was Deku. It had almost been a year since they'd last seen each other. They managed to keep in touch via email but now, seeing his school, being in his dormitories, the weight of it all suddenly came crashing down.

Rody dropped down onto the bed, wiping his hands down his damp face. The exposed skin on his arms and legs burned with an intense ferocity, calling for the bite of his nails. A weighted coil of anxiety twisted his stomach, his chest suddenly feeling too tight and his body feeling so wrong.

"Goddammit."

He didn't want to be seen like this. He couldn't be seen like this. But… deep down, Rody knew that it was inevitable. There was no way he could avoid it.

But… he had to try.

He had to try.

#cosmic chatter #bnha #rody soul #chicken au #my fics #blorbo tag #i am not tagging the other involved characters because i am!! so so sosososo shy #i have plans for writing other scenes from this au but i need to write something with pino. i miss her #quick shoutout to ellipsus for having an option to copy rich text. i hate re formatting things sm and now i dont have to <3 #i love using italics sm

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royalcharlieofficial · 4 months ago

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A quick redraw of some old art I did a while back (about four years ago now, yeesh). Seeing as it's trans visibility day, I figured I should do smth like this! Granted I had to rush it out in a panic (in <2 hours) bc I forgot it was that day, but eh. So, of course, I had to do my girlie Snowrush. I mean, come on, it's so obvious LOL. She's like, my biggest trans oc I have besides Alkine, and I'm thinking of focusing on EOTC (my cat ocs) and Dandy's World stuff specifically. I feel doing this rather than reworking that oc storyline while ALSO writing the new one for Magic Reborn at the same time will be a much lighter workload on me. I mean, I have two Dandy's World aus to manage as well, so yeah that's a LOT! Og art. Not DW art, sorry guys! ^^' I promise I'll do Rehabilitated Twisted Boxten soon (a req I got on my Deviantart)! Tomorrow is a break day so hopefully Wednesday or Thursday he'll be done!

#art #digital art #illustration #furry #furry art #furry oc #cat oc #elements of the clowders #elements of the clowders mr #elementsoftheclowders #magicreborn eotc #magicreborn #magic reborn #transgender oc #trans oc #trans visibility day #trans visibility day 2025 #snowrush mr #snowrush eotc

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belost-the-watcher · 2 months ago

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Meanwhile Rocket is incapable of sleeping longer than two hours at a time and 4am being when he goes down for his third block of sleep.

"Two hour shifts of sleep? Yeesh. I've got shit to do. Like sleep four two hour shifts in a row."

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ash-inabucket · 3 months ago

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I HATE IT HEREEEE (guy who lost the sonnet they needed for their assignment)

Whatever I'm too tired for this. I'm just gonna type up the pieces I have and then go to bed

In the morning I shall

-write add my writers bio, writers resume, and statement of growth to my portfolio

-print my portfolio

-hopefully find like 15 page protectors lying around

-write that FUCKASS sonnet

-weather and handwrite pieces for my writing project

-print all the pages from my writing project

-find a binder somewhere

-HOPEFULLY have enough time to pass out and get more than four hours of sleep

Fun, right? :D

I BELEIVE IN YOU

yeesh that’s quite a lot, but! it’s technically doable, if only partially

you’ve got this! don’t die of not sleeping! or of schooling too hard!

#fucking fuckass time limit #went off #TAGS QUICK #ask #the ash log #love you man youve got this #go you

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whentheleahvesfall · 1 year ago

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Hero & Partner Week - Day 4 - All Prompts

Well I’m like very behind XD At least today is day 7, so that means previous prompts time! And hoo boy… there’s like a lot to go through. So I’ll try try my best at least from this year’s prompts!

Anyway, for day 4, I’m gonna do all of the four prompts. Yes, you read that correctly, I’m here writing for all four prompts because not only do I want to do so, but I wanted to put myself in the shoes of all four of my protagonists haha. Whilst I still try to get my day 3 sorted (and then my day 5 prompt done too ahahshdhsbdhsb), I at least wanted to tackle day 4, so without further ado, I hope you enjoy reading what my scuffed behind brain has to write :)

Great Canyon

Passing over ragged rocks, broken cliff-drops that fell into a fallen abyss and surviving the harsh arid temperatures that blew through the winds of change, a plodding of two comrades making their way to a prophecy-calling psychic type was afoot. Going for a few hours without much in ways of a proper break, a brazen but hyperactive Totodile collapsed in a gap between two beaming pillars of stone, gazing upon them with fears of them potentially toppling over without much realisation.

“How much further do we need to go before we manage to see this um… Xatu…? My legs are practically… hah… killing me over here Scrald…”

Staring back at the Totodile was the human-turned-Pokémon, a Torchic who would often leap into more situations than one without much in the way of thinking. Scrald was desperate to learn anything about why he had come to this world, which for whatever reason made his eagerness to jump into the deep end more annoying for his partner. Ruffling his feathers, the now fire type flung his Totodile friend into a frenzy.

“Yeesh Planker, how many more times do I need to keep pulling these claws of yours? Get moving already, we’ve got no time for a break! I really need to-“

“Yeah yeah, I know, I know. You gotta know why you came here, but am I not allowed as much of a dignified break as this? Like I said, I can’t even think straight too much because of all of this walking…”

The Torchic finally stopped and took a moment to finally sink in the words of Planker, his partner. Sighing and waning his beak ever so slightly, he stopped to sigh and finally rested on an adjacent rock to get to grips with what he wanted to talk about.

“Fine, alright. I get it too, you need to wait. But I just… I can’t get out of my head something that’s been bothering me.”

“The fact that you jump into danger without so much as a precursor of thinking properly?”

“What?! I’m just an outgoing person, okay?! I hate seeing other Pokémon in trouble, and this is no different-!”

“Scrald, will you shut up for a moment and think for a second?”

Planker frowned at his friend, not gnashing his jaw to scare him but covered his scarf over his face in a form of worry. The green fabric providing some form of comfort much like his straw-bed that he would sleep in nearby to Scrald’s own house, he fidgeted his claws before opening his mouth after taking a deep breath.

“Look, I… I’m sorry. But I’m just as worried about what Xatu might say about you just as much as you may be worried about what it means to be human. You’re worried that…”

“I’m causing the natural disasters?”

“Uh yes, that. You… said that more openly than I expected you to.”

Scrald shivered but slowly nodded. “I-I know. I get that you’re able to also predict what I say so easily as it feels like I’m much more of an open book than I thought. But… but yeah, I’m scared. To know what it means to carry an unknown burden that the reason the natural disasters are occurring and my appearance is…”

The water type widened his eyes and shook his head vehemently, immediately gripping one of the side-feathers of the Torchic before wrapping one arm around his torso.

“No. No no no don’t even go there Scrald. Before we even see Xatu, and even if you feel there may be a bad thing he might say to you… you’re not the reason these disasters are happening. I just… I can’t in my mind, I just can’t… picture you of all of the Pokémon I met be the one who’s responsible for all of this. It’s just not possible.”

“But how would you even know that? One day I suddenly wake up in the middle of a forest, I formed the Blazing Water rescue team with you, and now I… now I need to do why I’m even here. And if that means I have to find out the hard way, I… I guess I should’ve known that maybe my role here was much bigger than I expected.”

Forming a mixture of contemplation and seriousness, Planker looked at Scrald straight into his black-toned eyes.

“My gut feeling tells me you’re innocent in all of this. Not anybody else, or some all-seeing prophecy… just my faith in you.”

“A gut… feeling? That’s not… that’s not anything, is it? How would you know that I’d be a person who wasn’t responsible for the earthquakes, the forest fires, the many, many other things we keep seeing from the Pelliper news-“

“Scrald, please. Just… just stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you and focus on me. Me - your… your friend. I trust you. And forget about Gengar, forget about Team A.C.T., forget about the disasters and your own pre-conceived concerns, and put faith in yourself as a person. I… I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you. And even if we’re not perfect, that’s okay. Because… if we’re here together, then we can find out why it’s all happening. Xatu’s a psychic type right?”

Scald slowly began to nod in an attempt to agree, but whether he knew for certain was something he couldn’t foresee. How could he know for certain he wasn’t responsible and still needed to place his faith in someone he hadn’t even met before?

Perhaps the psychic type with the ability to see what he couldn’t could give him the reassurance he thought he desperately needed?

“Then he’d know more about it than anyone. Look, I… I can get why you have a bad feeling about this Scrald. And I know you’re in a hurry and are scared… but I believe in you. So please, even if it’s just for the remainder of this dungeon… believe in me as much as I do for you. Even if it’s just one step at a time. I can take the small steps, just not up this darn canyon…”

The Torchic human would sigh but give the ever-so-slightest hints of a smile across his beak.

Maybe if he continued, he would get his answers. Maybe if he believed in himself, he would be able to prove his own doubts wrong. For whatever reason it was, whether it was deep inside of him or not, one thing was for certain in his brain. He would have to keep going, no matter what.

“O-okay. I’ll do it. A-and I’ll try, with you.”

A smile from his partner after he pulled his scarf down was all he needed to move forward together to get the answers he seemed. He would make sure that the both of them would know exactly what was the cause of everything that could be occurring.

And he would do it with his friend… together.

Hidden Land

It had been several hours passing over the Sea of Time that Harmony had finally managed to close his eyes to sense the aura around him, feeling scared about the imminent collapse of time if they didn’t hurry to climb Temporal Tower and save the world for permanent, pending paralysis.

It was the future he came from that he went back in time for so he could fix the mistakes his former self had made, and with it, his own amnesia meant he could only try and thaw in the blanks of what it meant to still live in the past he was in right now.

“…Harmony? Hey. Are you okay?”

A shake and tussle from a concerned female Eevee shook him from his partial concentration, her eyes filled with concern as she sat down next to the Riolu to share some insight as to his sudden actions.

“I-I’m fine. Just… just thinking about stuff.”

“Like what? Did you want to talk about it?”

“Flurr, I… I can’t. Not whilst the world’s own future is at stake. We need to keep moving, or otherwise we’ll run out of time.”

He grimaced and flexed his right forepaw, fidgeting at his side before slowly slumping below. Harmony couldn’t bring himself to talk to her about all of the troubled emotions he had hidden underneath his mind.

Dusknoir’s betrayal and the kidnapping of the both of them so they could fight through the future just so they could return to the past and hope to even have a chance of collecting the Time Gears.

Realising that not only did he have the partner by his side, he also was none other than the same human Grovyle trusted with his life before his amnesia overcame him. Not even being aware of both of their true identities, they both fought when encountering him at one of the three Time Gears’ lakes, before the pain of realisation meant they could all be manipulated by pure coincidence.

Right now, Grovyle too was in front of them scouting the area to ensure they knew where they were headed before moving forward.

Standing in an old set of ruins beset by murals of ancient depictions of legendary Pokémon battles and the events of a previous falling asteroid, the Riolu did not want any part of becoming legend. He was scared and terrified. Not just of losing his own life if he failed, but by harming the two partner Pokémon he relied on so much that he couldn’t bring himself to tell them.

In his mind at least, that’s what he thought. That there was no way that they could ever understand the feelings he encompassed after forgetting his previous life for the one he lived now, and the consequences he had to deal with in tow just to get a basic understanding of everything.

As he sat, he shivered. Inside his mind, or at least the very depths of it, there was a tinge of regret that something may happen. What might happen to him when he prevented the future of darkness from ever occurring? Would it mean… would it mean that he himself would become a time paradox? That he would never exist?

Harmony couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought, before he felt a comforting hug come from his Eevee partner. She could only look on in an attempt to get through to his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking Harmony, but this isn’t just a burden you have to think is just only on your shoulders. It’s on our shoulders together, is it not?”

The Riolu human stared back incredulously, unsure of what she was trying to say.

“How is it not Flurr? I’m… I’m trying my best to deal with the consequences of every second we lose. Your relic fragment may have guided us here but it’s not guiding my lost heart right now. I can’t… I can’t deal with losing you too. I just can’t. You mean too much to me.”

“That’s… thank you, but I… I know you’re not the only one who’s thinking about this all deep inside.”

Flurr flickered a small smile at him, which made his already overwhelmed brain suddenly contemplate a whole slither of conundrums. What was she even talking about? Did he do something to upset her? Did he go and screw up again, like everything he touched triggered his Dimensional Screams? Did he waste the time of other Pokémon again? Did he-

“I’m thinking about it too, even now.”

…

“Y-you are? But why?”

“Because I know that underneath it all, I’m scared, I-I’m afraid, but… I know if I don’t move forward, we won’t be able to save anyone. Me and Grovyle… we’re just as nervous about what might happen if we move forward as much as anyone else is. Including you. So please, even if it is the hardest thing in the world for you… please, just try. For me. For us. We’re Team Harmonia after all, and it was named after you. So… even if I get my strength from you too, I just… please?”

“That’s… that’s impossible.”

The female Eevee pulled her partner into a sudden hug.

“It may feel that way… but if you have someone to confide your worries in, doesn’t that mean you can at least try? We’ll save this world Harmony, I’m sure of it.”

Harmony looked at her, before eventually realising he couldn’t keep it in anymore. A few sniffles came, before a tear fell, then another and then another. He couldn’t keep it up.

He had to cry.

And as the Eevee cuddled him… she knew that with him, her strength and at least her worries can help make him feel better. Even if it was just in this moment. As the both of them didn’t know what to expect, they knew they needed to try. Just try.

They would go and place the Time Gears so they could save the world together.

If the both of them could just try… they could do it together.

Glacier Palace

The air was becoming hard to breathe for everyone around him. Soon without realising, his allies would begin collapsing from exhaustion one after another.

First came the collapse of his friend Dunsparce, followed by Virizion, then Umbreon and Espeon. They all fell from the protruding force of an unknown assailant, making the air thin as ice… much like the place they had become trapped from traversing via the Entercards.

Eventually, before he even realised, a lone Tepig stood still near the fallen and near unconscious body of his partner, an Axew whom he had grown to care about since he first woke up in this world from falling down from the sky.

“Huck! Huck, buddy, wake up-!”

“Ungh… Cormos… I…”

“Please, I can’t be the only one left up here, stay with me, even if it’s just…!”

The Axew’s tenacity was waning away, fading into background obscurity as he felt his consciousness slowly slipping into the depths of unawakened darkness. Cormos refused to have this happen. He… he couldn’t let this happen. Why? Why were his friends - and his precious best friend - all starting to find it difficult to even breathe?

With a sudden deep breath and a flurry of panic wash over him, sweat began to cover the fire type-human’s face. He was the only one left still standing.

How? How was this even happening? Why was it even happening for him?

He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

“…Cormos…” Huck coughed, feeling his strength all but surely break away.

“Huck, I’m scared, what do I-? What do I do?”

“Just… stay by my side. Your presence… it’s… it’s the thing that… cough… provides me with the ability to even talk to you… gah… right now.”

“That’s…”

“I’m still here Cormos… even if I’m…”

Silence fell by the end of his partner’s date statement, and in a frantic effort to try and wake him up, the Tepig rushed to his side, shaking him like a ragdoll in a desperate attempt to wake him.

“Huck! Huck! C’mon, don’t… don’t leave me now.”

“WHO DARES TRESPASS ON MY DOMAIN?!”

A sudden, ice-pierced cry echoed throughout the chamber as a looming silhouette appeared over the human. There staring back at him was an expression lost with no soul, empty and desolate. With two ice-fractured wings flung from the back of its body, whatever this creature was instantly made the flame in Cormos’ body flicker further in a reflex arc.

“I-I… I come in peace. P-please… my buddy… please what’s happening to him?”

“You. You who can somehow survive the thick air up here. Just who are you?”

“…Cormos. Now tell me, how do I save my friend?!”

“Silence!”

The ice dragon roared and shook the confines of the Glacier Palace with the ferocity of what felt like an avalanche.

“I asked a question, I would like an answer. How could you possibly still breathe when…?”

Upon closer inspection, the towering giant loomed over the fire type with piqued interest. Moving down, they stared back at Cormos before making a slow growl.

“Your smell… it’s foreign. One that I feel accustomed to from the many times I’ve seen your kind. But you… I see you only pay heed to your allies and the Pokémon beside you. Why are you here… Cormos?”

“I… I came here because our team wanted to perform an investigation of the Glacier Palace. We didn’t mean to i-intrude or steal anything from you Mr…”

“Your kind can call me Kyurem. I’m content with your so-called investigation, but any moves further past this point is forbidden. Should you even dare try to defy me… a swift death would be nothing more short than certain.”

“I-I have no intention of doing that Kyurem.” The Tepig fearfully curled up into a ball, scared of what the towering ice dragon would inflict upon him if he tested his patience.

Luckily for him though, whatever the beast was approached Huck slowly before roaring and clearing some of the air temporarily so that he could breathe.

Before he realised it, the Axew slowly began to wake up again and turned to see the intensively worried face of his Tepig partner.

“Cormos… thank you.”

“I suggest to the both of you that whatever business you have further in this place is wrapped up now. I do not want to warn you a second time.”

“W-we will. We’re extremely sorry to trespass.”

“But I will say this. This Axew can keep the Frism he wanted to obtain. It is a special… object that can help with transferring messages if provided with the warmth of key. This will be your way of remembering your time here.”

Huck’s face immediately lit up with a gleaming smile, before finding his arms straight around the neck of the Tepig.

“Cormos… you were incredibly brave… thank you, thank you, thank you…”

The only thing on the former human’s mind though was the fact that his partner was safe. They would be okay. Team Whirlsprint would be alright.

And him and the rest of his friends… could go home together.

Revelation Mountain

Through the continuous rocky path to the peak of the mountain, a lone and angst-filled water type darted his eyes around in several different directions. Somewhere deep inside of him, he couldn’t help but feel worried.

The true culprit responsible for turning the world’s Pokémon to stone… he would slowly but surely meet them face-to-face.

With this knowledge, he knew he’d have to fight whatever it was that was standing in his way. Whether he knew for certain or not how it would turn out was anyone’s guess, at least to him.

All he know though was he wanted to find comfort in himself. No matter how far he’d go just to know what he could do at the core of the dilemma.

“We’ve got to not be far from the peak now you two. Stay sharp.”

Archen - one of the water type Pokémon’s allies from the Expedition Society - looked back at the both of the main team members of the Kipsaurs with a face filled with protection and confidence.

Sprout - a hyperactive Bulbasaur - nodded in tow. Cormac - the Mudkip with a lot to contemplate even if his former foster parent was also with them - was snapped back out of his thoughts. His terrified, over-encompassed worries and concerns.

As both Archen and Nuzleaf - the grass-type who took the human in where he had no where else to go - both wandered ahead not too far from where they would ascend to take down Krookodile, eventually the Bulbasaur looked and widened his eyes at the weakness of his friend. Walking alongside Cormac, he turned to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Hey, is… is everything alright? You look like the Mareep got stacked all over you.”

“Ah… I… it’s nothing Sprout, you don’t need to concern yourself over me. We have to stop Krookodile from hurting whatever is at the top of this mountain. I’m sure your Pops would say the same thing.”

“My Pops huh…? Well… I-I know most of all he’d be especially worried about me. Considering we haven’t seen each other in so long, he’d come back and scoop me up and give me the longest hug ever. But… but that’s not who I’m worried about right now. It’s you. You look so shuttered Cormac. W-why?”

With a heavy sigh, the former but amnesiac human stopped and began to shiver. His fin stood on end and his thoughts throttling any form of concentration, he shook himself into a shrunken corner.

Something… something felt horribly, horribly wrong in his mind. Why? Why could he not bring himself to move? How could he not have any strength left in him to continue moving forward? How was it that it was always him…? Right here, right now, why was he so worthless-?

“Cormac! Cormac! Cormac! Listen to me Cormac, I’m here! Please, please come back!”

A voice blotted out the echoed darkness that ploughed from the recesses of his mind to the forefront of reality, and through fuzzied eyes he stared at the concerned partner that shone into his line of sight.

Sprout looking no more worried than any other time he had seen him with his own self-doubts, he stared at Cormac with a look of lingering confusion and fear he would lose his friend to whatever he may have been going through.

“Cormac… come back to me.”

…

A breath of air from his lungs… and out again. Breathing in… and breathing out. Rinse and repeat until… until he would feel better.

“S-Sprout… I’m sorry.”

“I’m here Cormac, please… just tell me what’s worrying you.”

Silence filled the air as the Mudkip managed to regain his footing, before he slumped onto one of Sprout’s back vines for support as he used them to help him feel comfortable.

“I’m… just worried. About… about confronting the person who could be causing all these problems we’re having at the Expedition Society. I’m worried we could be turned to stone… or something might happen to you or Archen or my… own Pappy, but I… I’m worried most of all of seeing you get hurt. I can’t… no I won’t let that happen. I just can’t.”

With a flickered tear rolling down his cheek and dampening the cloth of the harmony scarf he wore, Sprout raised a leg to wipe it away and slowly but surely gave him a hug.

Maybe it wouldn’t last forever… but in this moment Cormac felt he needed it the most, especially when feeling at his most vulnerable right now.

“I-I know how it feels. Cormac, I’m scared of a lot of things. Losing my Pops, losing my place in the society, but now… hearing you say that, and how much you care about me… it makes me scared of losing you too. More than anything than you may know. But… but we have each other. I’m not going to let anything happen to you Cormac, no matter what.”

Sprout looked at his best friend with all the care he had for him up until this point in their journey, clinging onto him so he could feel at ease. He wouldn’t let go… not until he knew for certain that the Mudkip human would know how to ease his panic away from his mind.

Breathing slowly but surely, Cormac nodded and reciprocated the hug. He hugged him tightly, and began to sniffle more.

“I-I can’t… no I won’t… I refuse to let Krookodile, or whoever else I fear may touch you lay their hands on you Sprout… I never, ever want to have you harmed.”

“…I’m glad, so so glad to hear that Cormac. C’mon, let’s go… Archen and Mr Nuzleaf are up ahead.”

“…Right.”

With two cautious steps, the both of them walked forward to catch up to the other two in their searching party. Archen noticed Cormac’s worried eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

And his surrogate father he left behind… whether it was his face or not, the human couldn’t tell.

But he swear… he saw the pained tear and worry his own face move forward.

“C’mon young’uns… yer gonna be fine. And Cormac… I’ll make sure you’ll be raising yer spirits like-a freshly brewed Oran Berry soufflé.”

The grass-type guardian gave his child a hug as well as a form of consolation for him, as the four of them had managed to get through to a clearing at the top.

The Expedition Society’s members all were there to support him, he realised. Even his own guardian.

But whatever this feeling that was inside him that he couldn’t shake away for something being wrong… he knew one thing he could do.

He would confront it with his allies together.

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

Thank you for reading all four prompts I had to write. Whilst I know my other submissions are waaaayyy overdue (I’m sorry DX), thank you for a great hero/partner week! I’ve loved seeing all of you guys’ submissions and it proves that not only are all of you talented, but you’re all amazing in your own right as we all move forward to the future. We can all be here… as we each move forward… together.

@heropartnerweek

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