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poptartzz2 · 1 year

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⋱⟡ Hot Cocoa ✩ Miguel O'hara ⟡⋰

❀ Read this before you begin! ❀

For those of you who enjoy reading on Ao3, it’s posted here

✩⟡∵⋰ Synopsis: Getting snowed in with your friend is one thing, but getting snowed in with a gorgeous and horny man like Miguel O’hara is an entirely different ball game. It’s one you’ll have to navigate after grabbing a lovely sip of Hot Cocoa.

✩⟡∵⋰ Pairing: Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

✩⟡∵⋰ Warnings: 18+/ MDNI; little bit of flowery language

✩⟡∵⋰ Contains: Friends to lovers, slight fluff and angst, NSFW, mentions of cheek clapping and other sexual references , homie cops some feels lol

✩ Miguel’s thoughts are in purple

✩ Your thoughts are in pink

✩⟡∵⋰ A/N: I’m so nervous to post this, I hope ya likey (٥⁀▽⁀ )

Coffee. Java. Frappuccino. Dolce. Mocha. Ristretto. These are just a few of the names that belong to the different brews you prepare each and every day.

Tall. Muscular. Quiet. Intense. Amusing. These are just a few of the qualities that belong to a peculiar customer you get the chance to interact with daily.

Miguel is his name. Miguel O’hara.

That’s the name of the man who enters your safe haven each and every morning, with a quiet and intoxicating energy, ten am on the dot, every single time.

He orders the same simple beverage every visit, sitting in the same peaceful spot resting beside the shop’s window, and he remains quiet every month. Untouched. Unbothered.

Well, scratch that. Something about this man feels familiar to you. When you get the pleasure of taking his order and having pleasant conversations with him, you find a sorrowful look in his eyes. It’s the kind of haunted look you’ve seen staring back at you in your own mirror each day, each month, every year.

His eyes. They’re red in hue, beautifully rich in emotion, hungry, and longing for something. These are the pair of eyes you get to look into everyday, and today was no different.

Or so you thought.

After a series of startling and bone chilling events, you’d find this gorgeous man’s gaze, your friend’s gaze, transform into something you’ve never seen before.

One that’s hungry for something he didn’t think he’d be able to have again. That something is you.

A beautiful woman who he has grown to enjoy and who he loves spending time with. Yours. His. All for the taking, after grabbing a comforting sip of hot cocoa.

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

Today has been awfully chilly, however, that’s always good news for you.

Despite having to deal w/ freezing temperatures in your room, that peacefully rests above the shop, snowy days typically mean you get a day off.

Don’t get me wrong, you love the art of coffee making, but a day with less work is always nice. A win is a win, especially when you're the only one on shift today.

This means you’ll have less picky customers to deal with, and you’ll have the chance to enjoy one particular customer more easily.

In fact, when you happen to look up from making some dope latte art, you easily spot him strutting into the shop, making a beeline towards you.

Keep your cool, girly. Keep it chill. All puns intended.

“Hey Miggy, how are you today? Up for something new?” you brightly question, as the handsome man greets you.

This is the first time you’ve called him Miggy. You’d like to think that the two of you have grown to be friends (at the very least), but perhaps calling him this would make him uncomfortable, especially since you typically call him Miguelito.

However, as he stares back at you, you find his brows slightly jumping, and eyes widening but only for a moment, just to be replaced by a soft, sweet, and rare smile, that gently tugs on the corners of his mouth.

A mouth, you had never watched before, with a set of teeth you had never seen before. Sharp in shape, white as snow, warring for the attention that the beautiful snowflakes dancing outside, easily bring.

“Hi sweetheart, now that you mention it, I think I’d like to try something new today. Do you have any recommendations?” Miguel softly asks, as his eyes shyly avoid your own, while he moves to rifle through his wallet.

A wallet filled with memories baked in from the life he once had. The life he misses dearly, and the life he believed he’d never taste again.

As he listens to you speak now, his heart is in search of something tasty, flavorfully reminding him of his daughter Gabriela, and the fun and playful drinks she loved to get.

Thankfully, you give him a place of solace, and a peace of mind with one drink he can’t pass on trying.

“The final item I’d recommend is our “White Strawberry Coco-Moco”. I know it sounds interesting to say the least, but I think it’d be wonderful for today, especially since it’s been snowing for hours now. It’s the perfect thing to keep you warm.”

I can think of a few other things that would easily keep me warm involving you…

Oh no, it’s happening. Just shut up please, not right now.

“I know it’s been ordered quite a bit and if I’m being honest, it’s some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. I-“

Before you can even finish describing the drink, Miguel happily goes with what you’ve offered.

He knows if Gabi were here, she’d be so excited to try it. So he has to get it, in memory of her, and because you recommended it.

“I’m sold. As you know I drink the same damn thing everyday, so why not change things up a bit? And like you said, it’s quite chilly today with the snow, so I’ll go for it. I know anything you make will keep me warm.” he says, as he fishes out his debit card.

The next thing he says, comes more quietly and is nearly undetected.

“You’re so talented with this coffee thing sweetheart, everything you make tastes absolutely beautiful… just like you. You’re so beautiful.” Miguel softly cloaks under his breath, as he finally meets your eyes.

Looking at him once more, you find yourself melting, just for a moment under his fiery gaze.

Did he really just say that? Looking like that? Oh my…

As you once this man over, your eyes begin drinking in every ounce of his presence and style.

You find it all too easy to gawk at his long and slimming black trench coat, that’s accompanying a dark & tightly fit cable knit sweater, who’s turtle neck collar accentuates his gorgeous facial structure, and accents a lot of muscles you’ve never noticed before.

Or at least that’s what you like to tell yourself, when that’s far from the truth. Here’s the reality:

Anytime Miguel walks into a room, it’s as if everything is drawn to attention; charmed and demanded to look at him.

This means you’ve had zero issues with taking account of this man’s muscles, piercings, his height, amongst many, many other things. Very interesting things.

Things are clearly no different now.

Lowering your head in an attempt to mask your nerves in front of your lovely friend, you don’t hesitate to have a little fun with him in hopes of recovering.

Surely he didn’t think he could just say those things under his breath without any repercussions right?

“Excuse me Miggy? I didn’t quite catch that. What was that last bit you just said? Something about beauty?” you playfully ask.

“Huh? What? Oh nothing. Just that hot cocoa will definitely keep me warm because it’s so… beautiful..like you said.” Miguel painfully murmurs, as he struggles to confidently meet your gaze.

What the hell was that ? No puedo…

Nodding your head with a soft smile, you easily shake off your nerves as they’re replaced by sweet laughter, and you begin making his drink.

Little did you know, Miguel wasn’t planning on going out today. Considering the weather, he thought it’d be best to stay at home. However, at the sight of your face flashing across his vision, he easily changed his mind.

And how dare he try to ruin the tradition? The lovely tradition he’s kept up for over a year might I add. Where he comes in every single day, relaxes, gets some work done, people watches, and gets to spend time with you.

Sometimes when you’re on your break, he’ll buy you lunch and the two of you will enjoy the afternoon together. It’s something the both of you so desperately need.

Miguel also enjoys tipping you, whether you’re the one ringing him up or making his drink. No matter what you’re doing, he will tip you. He appreciates your sweet conversations, and you’re the only person who can make his drink just the way he likes.

When someone else makes his stuff, he pays you extra, as if he’s begging you to make it instead next time.

While Miguel waits for this new and exciting drink to be prepared, he notices something odd, but sensible. Considering he enjoys people watching, it’s no surprise he’s caught the lack of customers in the shop today.

In fact, as minutes and minutes begin to pass, he not only finds the shop emptying itself, but he also catches the shift in weather and temperature.

Watching as the beautiful and gentle snowflakes outside swiftly begin to turn into a heavy torrent of wind and ice, Miguel feels a sudden urgency to get back home. Especially when he remembers he forgot to do something important.

As in life threatening important.

I wanted to sit and chat with YN today, but I don’t want to get caught in this storm. Wait. You've gotta be kidding me.

I forgot to take it this morning. I really can't stay now.

I need it. If I don’t have anything in my system, I’m afraid of what I’ll do or who I’ll become. Getting stuck in here means I’d have to go without the serum, and that’s not good for anyone, especially YN.

But I can’t leave her here alone, not in this weather. Damn it…

While you finish preparing his drink, and one for yourself too since you’ll be going on break, you just so happen to catch a glimpse of what Miguel is staring at so intently, and you instantly pause.

In the time it took for you to make two simple drinks, the whole world outside your little comfy home, turned white. Completely white.

As you further look around the shop, you realize no one else is here besides yourself and Miguel. Everyone is gone.

Happily lost in thought over your friend, and your enjoyment of making this chocolate delicacy, you easily missed the snapping change in weather.

While you move to place Miguel’s drink in an interestingly cute coffee mug, and finish garnishing it with sweet toppings, the lights above you begin to flicker, the wind suddenly begins to violently howl, appliances clatter, and the warmth in the room instantly vanishes.

POP. POP.

Immediately jumping at the loud noise of electric friction, you quickly sigh when the lights dramatically go out, and as the room grows stark in silence. Just like that, everything is out. Everything has left you.

Warmth. Joy. Electricity. Customers, and so much more. Gone, in the blink of an eye.

Funny enough, people and things swiftly leaving you behind isn’t something new or foreign in your life, or in Miguel’s.

Just as Miguel has lost people in his life, you too have lost people that you’ve held close to your heart. Some of them are gone because of you, and that’s a guilt you’ll never be able to shake.

That’s one of the reasons why Miguel and yourself have become friends, despite his initial rough and bold disposition.

Underneath that rocky exterior, that’s battering with the world beating up against him and a boatload of grief, there’s a man with a soft interior. A man with a shattered heart that's slowly being put together again, by you of course.

With the popping of the light fixtures, and the whirring and buzzing of the coffee machines coming to a halt, heavy clicks of suede booted footsteps come walking towards you.

As a large arm suddenly leans against the order pick up counter, you breathe a sigh of relief. Having Miguel here right now couldn’t be more perfect.

The last thing you would need or want, is to be left in this shop, cold and all alone.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“Nice weather we’re having hm?” Miguel asks, as his playful question shockingly warms the air. Instantly smiling, you eagerly respond.

“Oh it’s absolutely gorgeous. Who doesn’t love a freezing winter day with nothing to keep you warm?” you brightly say, as you come from behind your workspace, and peel off your apron.

Or at least you’re trying to.

Before he even has the words to respond to, Miguel slowly begins to walk towards you, as his eyes never leave your frame.

All this time, he’d been watching you, intently listening to words drip off your tongue, attentively watching your smile, and closely looking in places he shouldn’t be.

Considering this, he found it all too easy to see you struggling with the apron tightly wrapped around your waist. A waist Miguel often thinks about squeezing, holding, roughly gripping, etcetera, etcetera.

Abruptly feeling a large presence hover behind you now, your body grows stiff and your mind begins to scatter.

Your friend doesn’t help you to feel any differently, especially as his breath slowly dances across your ear, humming a melody you’d never thought you’d hear, which easily sends a tingling sensation down your spine.

“Let me help you with that sweetheart…” Miguel breathily smiles into you, as he gently steadies one of his hands against your waist, before moving to loosen the bow tightly woven behind you.

As he masterfully removes your apron for you, your thoughts are frozen on what just happened. Even after a year of spending time with Miguel, not once had you ever experienced this.

A moment where the line between friend and “I wanna fuck you” grows awfully thin. A moment, where you could visibly and audibly encounter Miguel purposefully leaving you breathless.

One moment he’s quietly complimenting you under his breath, and the next he’s doing this. What in tarnation is going on…

Completely acting as if nothing happened, this man finally responds to what you said, as he remains closely behind you.

“Woah, who said you didn’t have anything to keep you warm? Are you cold right now? I can certainly help with that.” Miguel smiles deviously, as he lowers himself to gently and ever so slowly, wrap those large and calloused hands of his around your waist.

Badump. Badump.

Your heart beats faster.

Badump. Badump.

His strong arms pull you closer.

As you now lie against Miguel, his head moves to rest against your shoulder and into the warmth of your neck, while you both sweetly sit in a peaceful silence, and comforting embrace.

Until you fully come to recognize what’s happening right now.

As soon as you realize it all, in panic mode, you swiftly remove yourself from his touch, and nervously turn around to meet his gaze.

There’s absolutely no way this man is acting like this. He’s never been so..what can you call it? Amorous. He’s never once touched or held you like this before, especially with such longing and affection.

Simply because you’ve been friends.

Friends.

What a beautifully painful word, imprinted and engraved on your relationship with Miguel. A word you desperately wish could be washed away and replaced by something else. By something more.

Frantically trying to process this all, you need a way to escape, just for a moment.

Easily thinking of something on the fly, you thank the brutal blizzard for its handiwork, leaving you in need of warmth and light.

“Ah- thank you for that Miggy. Um- I actually have a few candles and blankets upstairs, do you mind if I go grab them for us really fast?” you nervously say, vaguely avoiding his maroon dressed gaze.

“Candles? Blankets? What are you up to sweetheart, trying to wine and dine me?” Miguel softly smiles, as his lids grow heavy and his voice silky smooth, thick and heavy, weighted with a lust for more of you.

Hearing him now, you’re completely baffled. Don’t get it twisted, wining and dining is the least of what you’d like to do with Miguel, but who is he right now? The Rizzler?

Once again trying to hide your startledness, your playful side comes to aid you in your mission.

“You wish that were the case, don’t you Miggy? Or surely you’d like to be more than wined and dined? Besides, it's not even evening yet, so don’t be ridiculous. But seriously though, I want you to be okay; it’s freezing in here. Do you mind if I go and grab them from my room?” you ask.

Miguel slightly pauses at your statement of 'you wish'. Somewhere deep inside, your kindness has warmed his frosted heart, and much like the storm outside, he was heading down a dark path before he met you.

You are his candle that helps him to see when things get dark. You’re his blanket that keeps him warm on nights when the cold wind of grief and anger seizes his breath and thoughts.

Sometimes there are nights when Miguel lies restless in his bed, with no one to comfort him, with nothing to woo him back to sleep.

Those are the moments when his phone lights up with a call from you, his solecito, his lovely little sun.

With seemingly perfect timing, whether it’s late at night, or early in the morning, whenever he’s in need of comfort, you’re right there with him. Calming him down, encouraging him, and reminding him that everything will be okay. Of course, he doesn't hesitate to do the same thing for you.

Talking for hours on end, smiling, laughing and getting to know one another better, you often communicate like this. Whether it’s over the phone or standing face to face, like you are now.

Even if Miguel said yes to your inquiry, he wouldn’t need any of those items. He has you and that’s all he needs. You’re all he’ll ever need.

Yes you may be friends, but at times when he finds himself thinking about you and wishing he were with you, wishing he were inside of you, those are the moments when he dreams of being more.

More than just a man from the coffee shop. More than just a friend you can spend time with. He wants to be called yours, which is something he’d never thought he’d be able to experience again, but he’s not surprised you’re the reason why he feels this way.

“Hello? Miguel, are you there?” you ask out of curiosity, as the man gets lost in thought.

“Ah yeah, lo siento. Feel free to, and actually let me help you with that.” he softly says, with the rubbing of his neck.

“Oh okay, thank you.” You say, trying to mask your worry. You needed to get away, and now you’ve single handedly invited this man to come following after you, up to your room. A room you don’t want him to ever see.

Ignoring this though, you just suck it up and let Miguel help you.

What could possibly go wrong?

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“Alright, let’s go then. I know I told you I lived upstairs, but I realized I haven’t given you a grand tour yet. Don’t worry though, there isn’t much to see…anything that’s good anyway” the last bit you whisper under your breath, with vague enthusiasm, which Miguel easily hears.

Unbeknownst to you, he can detect lots of sounds with his extra enhanced senses, due to his genetic makeup. Nothing will easily slip past him, and sometimes this comes with a cost.

There are too many situations to recall, where Miguel often finds his mind drifting into forbidden spaces when he’s around you. Especially when he can hear your heart racing like crazy in his presence.

It leads him to think about certain activities that might leave you a little winded and thoughtless….

Activities he has to keep himself from imagining, for both your sakes, simply because there’s that beautiful line of friendship he can’t cross, even though he so desperately wants to.

He’d love nothing more than to keep that pretty heart of yours beating just for him, in ways you’ve never imagined.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

As you two head upstairs, Miguel instantly sees what you’re talking about.

Considering he’s such a large man, walking and moving in this cramped space is quite difficult and it causes him to direct his attention towards you. You’re so sweet. So compassionate. Very Grateful.

With the limited area and items you have in your living space, “your room” is more like a glorified closet, and yet he’s never heard you complain about it, not once.

He knows he would, if he were you.

Fascinated that you never grope or say anything negative about your circumstances, he finds it’s because you’re too busy caring for others and trying to be a goofball. He loves that about you.

“Ack I apologize you have to see this. I'm not typically messy but things can get a little disorganized to say the least.” you nervously chuckle, as you painfully allow him to see where you live.

With things scattered across your floor, and sprawled across your bed, you feel terribly embarrassed. On the one day you decide to let your room be a little messy, a friend you find extremely hot, walks in and gets to see everything in all its glory.

Wonderful. Absolutely Wonderful.

Praying and hoping that things will be okay, Miguel thankfully reassures you while you go fishing out your candles, candlesticks, lighter, and blankets.

“Don’t worry about that mi solecito, you’re just fine. So fucking fine…” Miguel softly says, with a hidden smile as he now leans against your doorframe and watches you from behind.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

While you are moving around your room, in search of everything you need, you easily miss Miguel glancing around as well, while he patiently waits for you.

In his waiting, he just so happens to spot a poorly hidden, and very large object.

It’s bright in color, long, thick, round in shape, and laying right next to your bed… the bed you've laid in, spending nights and nights thinking about Miguel.

Curious about it, but not that curious, he quickly tries to avert his attention from the doodad, but it’s too late as he comes to fully recognize what it is. Although it's wrapped in a silk cloth and barely tucked away in your nightstand drawer, there's no denying what it is.

There's no denying what it's been used for. There's no denying who uses it, and why they choose to. There’s no denying how it makes you feel.

There's also no denying how it makes Miguel feel about you at the sight of it.

That look that he always has in his eyes? The hunger and longing? It's growing now. His eyes are no longer that deep shade of maroon they once were.

At the sight of this object, his eyes discard the once dark hue, and truly begin flashing a dangerous tone of scarlet instead.

Fuck. Me. Why did I have to see this? Now of all times? Today of all days? When I didn’t take it?

When I can’t hold on much longer to this friendship we have? Why now?

Miguel’s recognition and confirmation of what the item is only grows, once he sees your face.

After catching him looking in the direction of where you keep a very personal and pleasurable object, unable to hide it or hide your own self, the only thing you can do is emptily look towards the floor.

With your eyes wide, and lashes slowly fluttering, you can’t breathe. You can’t move. There’s no way this man just saw it. Once again, of all the people that could’ve seen this, it just had to be Miguel of course.

As heat quickly jets across your face, you quickly turn back towards your belongings and focus on grabbing everything you’ll need.

While you do this, Miguel is focusing on your heartbeat.

Here it is again, beating fast in the heat of a moment. A moment where he has caught you being someone he never thought you’d be, doing things he never thought you’d do.

However, it does leave him pleased.

Suddenly feeling a familiar urge creep up within himself, Miguel tries to take deep breaths, as images begin to soar across his mind at the thought of you using your lovely object, and who you thought of while you using it.

Feeling his canines ache, feeling his body grow warm despite the temperature, and feeling his vision begin to shift, he knows he needs to calm himself down but it’s difficult. It’s hard. He’s hard, and there’s only a matter of time before you notice it.

Seeing your “little”…friend, has this man falling apart, especially with the lack of serum in his system, called “Delight”.

Delight isn’t Rapture, but it’s similar enough and he takes it daily. He absolutely needs it, and he can’t go without it.

Delight keeps him from ravaging someone, and not in a gory way, but a sensual one.

It works as a calming agent, taming the hunger that stems from his genetic makeup as Spiderman, along with cooling the symptoms that come with it. However, it isn’t an antidote.

The antidote will give him complete relief, and prevent the hunger from consuming and controlling him. He often needs Delight and the antidote together to be in a good place.

Hunger Symptoms

Increased sexual desire

Increase in sensitivity

Shift in personality/ Bro gets devious

Lack of self control

Aching canines

Increased body heat

Being hard for long periods of time→ not fun at all

The antidote to completely calm his symptoms and satisfy his hunger for the day, is the act of indulging in anything that brings him sexual relief.

Miguel has always had to relieve himself from the symptoms and hunger, simply because it can get difficult to do anything with and without Delight.

Sometimes this means jerking off, or in the past, it meant inviting a lovely woman, or not so lovely (he didn’t care, his body didn’t care. He just needed relief) over to his place.

When he has Delight in his system, no matter the amount, all he needs is something small, simple, and quick. Something as light as foreplay can do the trick to help him feel better.

However, when he doesn’t have anything in his system at all, that’s when things get dangerous. This is when his symptoms and hunger go on x games mode.

When Delight is completely absent from his body, Miguel needs everything, and he needs to feel it all, or else the hunger will consume him.

Foreplay won’t cut it. The only thing that can satisfy and satiate him is intense and powerful movement. Penetration. He needs to feel it. He has to be inside. He needs skin to slap and pound against, a neck to bite, hair to pull, and places to suck, lick and fuck.

He needs his leading lady to climax and release, or the hunger will consume him.

This means that it’s not over until you cum, and not just by any means. You have to cum with his cock alone, and nothing else. No fingers used, no toys allowed. Just him and him alone.

As you have already witnessed, on top of being mega horny, Miguel will begin to transform into someone else when Delight isn’t present in his system.

While he tends to be more thoughtful, reserved, and well composed, he will grow to be more cocky, more bold, and more seductive.

As previously stated, bro gets devious. Not giving a rat’s ass about what flows out of his mouth, he says whatever comes to mind.

If his words leave you a flustered mess, then so be it.

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

As you awkwardly grab everything you need, it seems too easy to pretend like nothing happened, and so you do.

Skipper from Madagascar said it best, “You didn’t see anything”, and you proudly embrace this phrase in order to keep yourself together. Miguel didn’t see it, and neither did you.

“Here we are! I've got a few vanilla scented candles I bought, which smell absolutely delicious, and these warm and fuzzy blankets I love!”you say brightly in hopes of masking your embarrassment.

“Do you mind-“ Before the question can even fall out of your mouth, Miguel begins to take everything you grabbed into his arms and heads back downstairs. He doesn’t leave you to carry one item.

He also doesn’t speak or give you eye contact.

While you believe it’s because of what he noticed in your room, it’s actually because of what he noticed going on in you and in himself.

Trying to avoid your scent, your smile, your bright eyes, your laugh, it’s all impossible because he’s stuck here in his favorite shop, snowed in with you. No way of escape. Zero traces of Delight in his system. Time is running down.

He has no idea what he’s going to do, and neither do you.

As you stand in shock for just a moment's notice, you quickly think about the interactions that just took place and you wonder where Miggy’s head is at.

Considering the both of you have hot Cocoa waiting for you, and nothing to do, it would be a perfect time to figure that out.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

When you go back downstairs, you find Miguel with his jacket off, all the candles lit, and find him waiting for you with blankets and hot Cocoa filled mugs in hand.

He oddly did that extremely fast, but you put it behind you.

Awkwardly creeping into his space, you're wondering what's going on right now.

With the air feeling thick and cold, tense and awkward, your words are easily getting caught in your throat and your mind is easily getting caught in the trap of replaying what happened in your room.

However, that's not the only thing your brain is rehearsing.

Miguel seeing your dildo wasn't an issue just because of his relationship with you. It was also an issue because of what you've done with the object.

After seeing Miguel and watching him painfully tear his gaze away from the toy, you were reminded of every guilty thought, noise, and touch that came along with the dildo's usage.

Everytime you used it, everytime you got yourself ready, you only had one person on your mind.

One person on your mind, who your mind and body ached for, who's voice and touch your core dripped for. Miguel. That’s who.

Remembering all the times you allowed your imagination to take flight, all the positions you used, and all the noises that were made, you can't help but feel embarrassed, flustered, hot, and incredibly horny, especially because the person you constantly fantasize about is right here in front of you.

Just a step away. Just one belt unbuckling away. Just one kiss away. Just one fuck away. That alone is too much. Too nerve wracking.

You can’t run from him now, and you can’t hide. There’s no escape.

You have to face all of your fantasies and come to terms with what he just saw. You have to face it all…but you cast it aside and try to forget everything.

What a terrible idea.

As the room grows awfully quiet, reality truly sets in.

You're snowed in and alone with the man who always leaves your heart racing and mind pacing. You’re snowed in with the friend you’d like to fuck, but can’t do anything with.

Whatever shall you do?

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

As you and Miguel move to sit down, you awkwardly head towards the sectional couch resting by the shop’s largest window.

While he gets comfortable and seated in one area, you make sure to remain in another, far away from him.

Fortunately for you, you’ll find out this is yet another terrible idea.

As you begin to cuddle up with your favorite blanket and begin sipping on your hot chocolate, you suddenly feel Miguel’s gaze burning into you.

With heat lovingly caressing your body at the sight of his eyes trained onto you, you really wish he’d look somewhere else, at anything else.

If you keep it up, I might pounce on you, and I can’t do that.

So please spare me, and take your fine ass somewhere else. Look anywhere else but at me. I beg you.

As if hearing your inner monologue, you find Miguel chuckling, and suddenly pausing for a brief moment. His chest stops moving, his fingers stop tapping, and a muffled sound erupts from deep within himself.

Looking over at him out of curiosity, you find he’s got his face buried in his hand now, as he leans against the edge of the couch.

“Fuck.” you hear him curse under his breath, as you watch his free hand begin to violently grip the couch.

“Hey…are you okay Miguel?” You cautiously inquire, as you walk over and softly place your drink down on the coffee table nearby.

With one hand still buried in his face, and the other clawing up the furniture, he says absolutely nothing. The only thing you can hear are ragged and desperate breaths that are now overwhelming his body.

Heavily concerned at this point, you move to step closer to him. You’ve never seen him act like this, and you want to make sure he’s okay.

As you do, he puts his hand out to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t- I’m fine solecito. Thank you-but I’m okay” Miguel murmurs, with frequent pauses and furrowed brows.

Slowly nodding your head in response, you head back towards your spot.

“Okay..” you silently say. However, as you give Miguel one look over before you go, your eyes land on this odd strain in his trousers.

Watching in amazement as it grows tighter and larger by every passing moment, you don’t know what to do, especially since this bulge is absolutely massive.

You know what this is. You know what’s happening, but you don’t know how to handle it. What the hell is going on with him today? Clearly Miguel is not okay….

Deciding to once again ignore it all, you finally grab your cocoa once more and sit back down, getting extra comfy with your blanket, as you tightly grip its fabric.

You need help or you’re gonna lose it.

As you take another swig of your drink as a scapegoat from this very awkward moment, you'll find there is no escape.

Things just keep getting more and more interesting to say the least, and that line we talked about earlier? The cute little friendship line? Yeah, that's getting thinner now.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“I know you saw it YN, you don’t have to pretend.” Miguel bluntly says, as his breathing steadies and his muscles relax.

Startled, you easily find yourself choking on your drink now.

Leaving you no time to recover, as you get up to put your mug down once again, in your coughing fit, you suddenly feel something slap against your back.

Before you know it, you’re flying backwards into the couch, and right into Miguel’s lap.

Trying to process what the hell is happening, your lovely friend easily brings your focus elsewhere and onto more important matters. Matters that are growing larger, more painful, and more urgent as time passes.

Bringing your focus onto matters that you’ve both dreamt about. Fantasized about.

As you now rest in Miguel’s lap, a place you’ve never been in before, your body easily begins to speak before your mouth can.

Feeling his thighs underneath your own, feeling your back pressed into his, and feeling his arms wrap around your waist, you naturally get comfortable and sink into his touch.

As he now begins to gently caress your sides, you suddenly feel his breath cascade across your neck, and feel his silky voice reach your ears once again.

“You honestly didn’t think I’d let you sit that far away from me did you? When you look this beautiful? How cute...” he grins into you.

“I know you feel it now too YN. Don’t you want the real thing sweetheart? I promise it’s better than your cute little toy.” Miguel breathily whispers, as you abruptly feel his teeth begin to nibble, and his lips begin to gently kiss on your ear.

With hearing “cute little toy”, along with feeling Miguel do all of these things to you, things he’s never done before, your mind is in shock.

Little? LITTLE?! No…no way it’s far from little. Does that mean you’re bigger than-

Unable to compute all of the things happening right now, Miguel doesn’t help with that.

He just keeps on getting lost and lost in you, and how much he wants you. How much he wants to be inside of you. How much he wants to be with you.

Without Delight in his system, he’s beginning to crack and things are only just starting to heat up. Of course he doesn’t refrain from letting you know this, by showing you of course.

Actions are far better than words aren’t they?

Continuing to whisper in your ear, Miguel sends you further and further into the struggle zone, as your heart begins to flutter, and as your core grows warm.

You’ve wanted this man for so long, but you’ve kept those feelings on a tight leash outside of some interesting activities of course. Now that this is happening though, you’re unsure of what to do.

Is this real? Is the sweet and reserved man you’ve known this entire year still here? Or has this been him all along, just buried and hidden away from you?

As you sit in his lap a little while longer, Miguel easily gives you the answers you’ve been looking for.

“All those pretty little things you’ve dreamed of at night YN? All the thoughts and ideas you’ve fucked yourself to? They can become your reality sweetheart. Right here, and right now.”

“I know you think of me when you have your little fun, don’t you YN? Tell me what you think about when you ride it, when you bounce up and down on it, when you pound and sink into it. Tell me…” Miguel smiles into you, as he continues rubbing your sides.

Completely baffled now, your mind grows fuzzy at the remembrance of everything you just tried to forget.

Whispering “Miguel” is the only thing you can manage to do before he easily picks you up, turns you around, and presses you down into his lap, as your legs straddle his own.

Looking into his eyes now, you find they’re a brilliant red you’ve never seen before, a red that could rival even the brightest star in the sky.

As the both of you remain close to one another, with shared breath and mouths only centimeters apart, you suddenly wrap your arms around your friend’s neck.

You then ask him a question. Before anything happens, you need some answers, simply because you have no idea what’s going on right now.

“Miguel…are you okay? I’ve never seen you like this before, where you’re-“

“Where I’m what? Fucking hard for you? Where I’m clawing at this damn couch, trying my best not to kiss you, not to sink my cock into you, not to love you?”

“Well if that’s the case, then you better get used to this. I can’t hold it back anymore. I don’t want to be your friend anymore, I wanna be yours. I simply want you. Every inch, every curve. I want to touch all of you, to taste all of you, but I can’t unless you want this too. Unless you want me too.” Miguel achingly and breathily whispers into you.

Completely baffled, your heart begins to race even more than it already has, and your face instantly grows more warm.

You can't believe it. You truly can’t believe what you’re hearing, even if you’ve been dying to receive these words from Miguel fucking O’hara all this time.

Responding back to the best of your abilities, you let him know where you’re at.

“Oh trust me, I’ve wanted this for so long. I just didn't know if it was okay. If having feelings like this for you was ever okay.”

“I mean who could resist somebody like you…with those gorgeous eyes, and these lovely muscles? I just didn't want to ruin our friendship.” you nervously mumble.

As Miguel deeply gazes into your eyes for a few moments, he looks and feels you over all at once.

Finally, he has the woman he deeply cares about and wants so badly, right here in his arms. She’s underneath his touch, telling him exactly what his body has been yearning to hear. Exactly what his heart has been yearning to hear.

It only makes him more hungry and more eager to be with you.

Look at you all hot and bothered, feeling warmer than the sun.

My poor solecito, I’ll have to fix that for you. Although, I don’t think what I have in store for you will cool you down one bit…

Now easing your mind, and completely erasing that line of friendship that’s laid in the sand for far too long, Miguel dips his toes into the ocean of intimacy, and intertwines his fingers with yours, so that you can both step into the deep.

Even though he wants to be rough with you, he craves being gentle and slow with your body and mind even more, so that he can savor every touch, every breath, every noise, every scratch, and plenty more.

“Well now you know. It’s more than okay to feel this way sweetheart. Can I kiss those pretty lips of yours now? You can choose which ones you’d like for me to taste…” Miguel smiles as you both woozily look into one another’s eyes.

Smiling right back at him, your noses begin to softly intertwine as you say one last thing.

“You can taste both, Miguelito.” you softly grin.

As your mouths move to meet now, a loud crash is heard from upstairs and your lips never touch.

Startled by the sound of glass shattering and the loud howl of rushing wind, Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling your body underneath his chin.

As snow begins to flow throughout the shop, the flames of your candles easily blow out, leaving the only warmth in the room resting between you and Miguel.

He doesn’t know what’s happening right now, but his primal instinct is built on protecting you and keeping you safe, especially as he hears footsteps dash across the creaky floor upstairs.

With his senses on high alert now, especially with the absence of Delight in his system, Miguel’s heart is beating faster, his hearing is growing more crisp, and his mind is feeling sharper, as he awaits the moment he can go and check things out.

Abruptly smelling a scent he hasn’t encountered before, Miguel takes that as his sign to move.

Leaving a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead, he tenderly places you out of his lap and onto the couch.

“I’ll be back sweetheart, stay here.” Miguel softly says, as he looks back at you before he swiftly leaps up too many stairs at once.

Baffled at the sight of his movements, similar situations come flooding back into your mind, ones that just haven’t added up about Miguel over this past year. Ones that you had cast aside.

Now, you have to address them.

Everything from that leap up the stairs, to you flying backwards into his lap, and from the sight of his sharp teeth alone. It’s clear something about him isn’t completely human.

He’s almost spider-like.

This whole time you’ve known Miguel, you’ve felt like he was holding something back from you, something he felt you’d never be able to understand. Or perhaps it was something he wanted to protect you from.

Now you know what it is.

Not only did you manage to befriend Miguel O’hara, but you also managed to befriend Spiderman.

The Spiderman who has saved yourself and others countless times.

That is the man who you’re snowed in with. It all makes sense now. The tall, muscular, quiet, intense and amusing qualities…. they all belong to him.

Spiderman 2099.

And you just kissed him…. or you almost did.

❀ I hope this was enjoyable ma lovelies & I apologize for any errors made since this was quickly edited!

Sending you lots of huggies & smiles- POPTART 🍓

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara fic #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #fanfic #reader insert

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i-love-your-shades-of-wrong · 7 months

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you want complex characters? here's Gale.

I am fully convinced that people only hate Gale bc it's Liam Hemsworth and because they think he's annoying - and yeah, it's true, he IS annoying, but to like president snow more than him? (its pretty privilege)

Most people know by now that the love triangle in thg is for metaphorical purposes - the choice between peace and war. And it's not even a choice as a reader - there is quite literally no chemistry between gale and katniss (in my opinion). But that doesn't merit hatred for the character himself.

He grows up in the seam, poor and being the breadwinner for his siblings. (how sad) We're supposed to disagree with his motives by the end of it - he shouldn't want to get revenge because that makes him as bad as the capitol (yada yada yada). And Peeta is in the right because he wants to show mercy. (peace vs war)

But Peeta grows up as the bakers son. Has he ever gone hungry? No. Are we meant to feel bad for him because of his mum? idk. His name was in the bowl far, far less times. Does that make it any better? No, because he's picked (and this is meant to be about how the system is awful... you get it). But Peeta doesn't grow up hating the capitol because they don't hurt him... until the games.

Is this an attack on Peeta? No, of course not, but circumstances are important as the actions taken within them (situation ethics). Peeta goes into the games and you'd think his outlook on life changes, but it doesn't. Some people have stronger cores - a lifetime of security within yourself does that.

Peeta goes into the games again, Gale saves the citizens of 12 in the bombing. Peeta's kidnapped. And Gale says this:

"He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He'd put forth the idea of the cease- fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lose, there's still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right." I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. "Katniss…he's still trying to keep you alive."

So, he's annoying, but is he a liar? No. He's ever the strategist, thinking of things from the logical point of view. (really grasping for straws but I need a pro and less cons😭)

People really hated Gale for bombs - killing innocent people that just want to help the fallen? (ohno how sad). But are capitol citizens ever really innocent? Bystanders that simply allow children to be murdered year after year? The idea that they simply have no idea of the harm being caused is ludicrous. Do they not have critical thinking skills? No matter what happens in life, you KNOW murder is wrong. No matter what propaganda media shows you.

(also Beetee helped make those bombs too like gale was annoying but stop giving him full credit like if I was beetee I'd be pissed)

So, that comes to the idea that killing people as a whole is unethical, and it doesn't matter that they're awful people. Is that untrue? No. Is it far to those that have been oppressed their entire lives, being told that using force against their oppressors is wrong? Maybe. It's not an easy issue to resolve (kinda explains the metaphor, doesn't it?)

Neoliberalism probably wants you to blame the individuals. Coin, Gale, Snow. Coin and Snow were two sides of the same coin (ooh pun) - politicians, adults, playing for their own power. Is it wrong to enjoy power? No, of course not, just don't abuse it. Gale enjoyed power. But he was fighting for the freedom of the country, not himself. And he's only 19/20. You're a lot angrier when you're younger, as many adults forget.

The system is the real problem, clearly. Why should the capitol have all the power? Why are the districts being used? We don't know. But that's unimportant.

And then there's Katniss. She's the one making the decision - peace or war. On paper, its peace anyday. Katniss has seen both Peeta and Gale's hardships - Gale is a metaphor for who she could have been. Bitter, angry and hateful. It's not unjustified hatred but under Kantian ethics, murder is always wrong. Katniss does not want to retaliate because it's a vicious cycle of violence.

As far as we know, the capitol don't really pay for all they do. I know if I was a district citizen who suffered, I'd want capitol citizens to feel the same way. That is not to say that it is ethical, but it is not unjustified.

It would be more of a fair argument if Peeta and Gale suffered equally, but can you really quantify suffering. Their experiences shape them. Its easier for Peeta to want mercy for the capitol because he wasn't starved his whole life. And Peeta's stance is the right one.

But see, that's why we say complex character and not good person. Because the decisions aren't malicious in intent, just with clashing personal values to the norm. Like, bffr, half the people online hating on this guy would NOT have stood for mercy for the capitol.

(anyway have a nice day this was my ethics essay plan and I'd better get a 9 on it or else <333)

#the hunger games #catching fire #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #mockingjay #ethics #morality #gale hawthorne #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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montywithchildhoodtrauma · 5 months

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More SAMS, MAFS, AND LAES Incorrect quotes to cure my depression.

Earth: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn’t what I meant.

Eclipse, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I’m TOO friendly? There’s no pleasing you.

Jack, who broke into Eclipse’s apartment an hour ago: Two sugars please.

Eclipse: Coming right up

Eclipse: *Fast forwards all the way through the movie.*

Earth: You can’t just skip to the happy ending!

Eclipse: I don’t have time for their problems.

…

Moon: Why is Monty crying on the floor?

Puppet: He’s drunk.

Moon: And?

Puppet: He saw a picture of Earth’s partner.

Moon: But he’s Earth’s partner.

Puppet: I know.

…

Moon: Is that… legal?

Old Moon: When there’s no cops around, anything’s legal!

….

O!Moon: I got an idea!

Moon: Does it involve breaking the law?

O!Moon: By now don’t you think that’s a given?

Moon: I was just trying to be optimistic.

O!Moon: Don’t bother.

….

Gemini: *Casually taking four stairs at a time.*

Lunar, falling behind, taking two stairs at a time: Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuc-

…..

Monty: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Earth!

Lunar: So Earth knows about this?

Monty, walking away: No, this is between me and me!

…..

Earth: Monty kissed me!

Lunar: Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!

Earth: It was unbelievable!

Lunar: Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!

Sun: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Lu, get some snacks and turn off the tv. Earth, does this end well or do we need tissues?

Earth: Oh, it ended very well.

Lunar: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!

Sun: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Earth: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh goodness, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Sun: Ohh... So, okay, was he holding you? Or were his hands on your back?

Earth: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were on my face.

Lunar and Sun: Ohhh.

*Meanwhile*

Monty, very out of it and still surprised: And, uh, and then I kissed her.

Foxy: Tongue?

Monty: No, ew.

Puppet: Cool.

…..

Earth: You know, Eclipse, when you generalize, you tell general... lies.

Eclipse: ...

Eclipse: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns?

Earth: Is it working?

…..

Sun: What are you doing here?

Eclipse: I could ask you the same question.

Sun: I live here. This is my house.

Eclipse: I should probably ask you a different question.

….

Earth: You ever see something that changes your life and you’re just like “huh...”

Monty: I saw you.

Earth: Honestly that’s so cute and sweet but it kinda makes this awkward because I was gonna show you a picture of Jack in a turkey costume.

….

O!Moon: Look at the buns on that guy!

Monty: *Lying on the floor, covered in hamburger buns.*

Sun: This is the comedy police! The joke’s too funny!

O!Moon: I’m not going back to jail!

….

BM simps: Bloody is a perfect cinnamon scone who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life!

Everyone else: Never done anything wrong?! He set a city block on FIRE!

….

Overlord Lunar, grinning: Before you were what?

Lord Eclipse: Before I was-

Evil!Sun: What?

Lord Eclipse: Before I was inter-

Overlord Lunar: Before you were interrupted?

Lord Eclipse: Cut me off one more time and I swear I’ll-

Evil!Sun: What?

Lord Eclipse: *makes frustrated sound*

Serrvent Sun, nervously: Stop that. Before he hurts you.

….

Monty: God, I love Earth.

O!Moon: Yeah, you fucking better.

…..

Lunar: What if the person who named Walkie Talkie’s named everything?

Monty: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies.

Puppet: Socks are Feetie Heaties.

Moon: Forks are Stabby Grabbies.

Sun: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties.

Solar: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies.

Earth: Stamps are Lickie Stickies.

O!Moon, annoyed: You are disappointments.

….

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show earth #sun and moon show eclipse #tsams #sun and moon show sun #sams

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candysimaginaryworld · 2 years

Text

CRY BABY ➜ HAIKYUU

How the haikyuu boys comfort you when you’re crying! (gn!reader)

feat — Hajime Iwaizumi, Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsuro, and Sugawara Koshi

w.c: 5+ (i have no self control)

☾ content: an unnecessary amount of suggestive innuendos (not 18+ material but read at your own discretion nonetheless), mentions of insecurities, fluff, comfort and weed.

☾ note: i finally posted something and the fact that I rewrote this seventeen times is laughable (for reference, I started this on February the 19th) lmaoooo anyway—don’t be a stranger, reach out and tell me what you thought or request something! i love feedback! <3

k.t

An absolute menace. If this man ever finds you crying, he will fight everyone and anyone within a six foot radius of you, regardless of it being their fault or not.

Kuroo is the kind of man that would smother you to the point where you are sick of him.

He’d be constantly checking in on you; making sure you’re eating right and staying hydrated (If he catches you munching on a bag of Cheetos and a half empty can of sprite, he’s cooking you a five course meal).

Don’t be surprised when his tall, lanky, body flails down the stairs in an attempt to make you laugh. When you ask him about it, he’ll tell you that his pain is worth your smile 😭 But then you’ll hit him for being a dumbass 🗿

His well-toned arms would wrap around your waist as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear; cute things like, “it’s okay baby, I know,” or “I’m here.”

Absolutely refuses to leave your side. You need to pee? He’s coming with you. There’s someone at the door? They can come back later. You need to go to work? No you don’t.

Once you finally calm down, he’ll ask you what was wrong with extreme caution. He tries not to push it—even though he desperately want to know what happened—so he’ll slyly slip in subtle questions every now and then to gain a better understanding of the situation.

In the end, he’ll ruin whatever soft moment you two had by making really bad puns and dad jokes.

If he’s in the middle of work and finds out you’re crying, this man is running out of wherever he is to come home to you. And when he’s overseas, he’s already hovering his thumb over the call button under your contact (which is so cutely named “doriyaki💔” based solely on the fact that you accidentally ate his when you two were dating. Thirteen years ago…in middle school. Mf never forgot.)

The type to bring you roses and takeout after work 💜

Sends you wholesome messages throughout the day, even if you’re in the same room:

K: Ik I tell you everyday but you’re my other half and I love you with my entire heart ♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Y: tetsu, you’re literally sitting right beside me—

K: I know

K: I just wanted to remind you ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

Does that really attractive thing where he gently rubs his thumb over your knuckles while you’re talking.

Coddles you like a child; won’t let you do ANYTHING without his supervision or approval.

He won’t typically cry when you’re sad but if he feels like it was his fault, he’s fucking crumbling. He can’t handle knowing he was the reason and would do anything to make up for it. Even if it means prancing around in that maid dress you bought him last year 🥲

He’ll offer you his weed pen and, if you’re lucky, you two will hot box in his car before hitting the nearest beach. The smell of the salty ocean air and indica filling your nose while Kuroo’s arms wrap around your waist is enough to make you forget about all your problems. And the way he looks into your eyes—dear god. The amount of love and adoration swirling in those dark pools of his has your heart hammering. How could you possibly cry when he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world??

If you tell him you look ugly from all the crying, he’s cupping your face in his hands and telling you you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and kissing you until you admit it.

Kuroo is a business man but he’s also incredibly family oriented and romantic. If he’s really busy and can’t immediately come to your aid, he’s decorating your entire living room later that night. The walls are decked out with blinking Christmas lights and the table littered with your favorite dishes, all ranging from sweet to spicy entrees and desserts. The first thing you notice isn’t the gorgeous decor of your otherwise plain apartment, it’s the dashingly handsome man kneeling in the doorway. In his gloved hands is a bouquet of flowers and in the other a glass of wine, smiling as if to say, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there before but I’m here now.”

His body has to be touching yours. Whether it be his hands on your neck or his legs on your thighs, there has got to be some sort of body heat between the two of you, not that you minded of course.

He’ll also make you a nice up of tea or coffee and offer you a warm blanket for cuddles. If you choose to take him up on his offer, he’s quick to kiss away your tears and burry your head in his chest. Nothing’s more important to him than these moments where he can be your comfort; your rock.

And as much as he hates seeing you cry…there’s something about that vulnerability that makes him feel one with you. Well, that and when he’s literally one with you but yk—

Just an overall sweetheart when he finds you crying to yourself.

“Listen to my heartbeat, love. You hear that? Yeah, that’s the sound of me having a heart attack—don’t ever scare me like that again...you okay now?”

Overall a solid 8.5/10, he’s an amazing cuddle buddy and doesn’t invalidate your feelings but he can’t help but tease you too. It’s nothing major but little condescending jokes here and there end up pissing you off and leaves him in the dog house 🥲

o.t

His very first instinct is to find out what happened.

The second is to stop you from crying—as much as he loves seeing your tears in the bedroom—he can’t stand to see them when you’re upset. It breaks his heart :((

He’d rather see you cry on his cock :(((

He so desperately wants to cry alongside you but he’s too afraid to reveal his vulnerability so he scrunches up his face and hides in your shoulder to conceal his tears. He’ll 100% deny it too if you bring it up.

Actually a huge sweetheart when it comes down to it. He’s tending to your every need, treating you like royalty and even cooking for you!

He would let you do whatever you want. Unlike Tetsuro, Tooru is the kind of comforter that encourages you to do whatever you want to make yourself feel better. Hell, he’ll even join you if you let him. Even if there’s something he’s not particularly fond of, he’s putting his distaste aside and doing it for you 💜

The kind of person to reenact the entire Romeo and Juliet play in the middle of the living room by HIMSELF—or with Iwaizumi—just to make you laugh.

Endless teasing. It doesn’t matter if you’re crying about something serious or something stupid, this dumbass would say the most out of pocket things at the WORST times, sometimes without meaning too.

Would let you braid his hair and do his makeup if you promised not to show anyone. But when he’s not looking, you’d sneakily send filtered pictures to the Argentina group chat.

@OfficialY/N: [[attached an image: 5]]

@OfficialY/N: my boyfriend looks so pretty :)

@TheBestRomero: lmaooooo posting this rn

@OfficialY/N: I—

‘@TheBestRomero tagged @MilkBread and @OfficialY/N in a post!’

@TheBestRomero: Never looked better @MilkBread! Everyone, thank @OfficalY/N for the photo ;)

@OfficialY/N: 🗿

“Y/NNNNNN!!!”

“Shit.”

His own insecurities fuel him. He puts himself down a lot, saying he doesn’t deserve someone like you and often spends his nights away from you crying about it. Instead of going out to celebrate his win with his teammates, he coupes himself up in his hotel room and makes silly little edits of you that no one will ever see. He understands how you feel, more than you ever would know, but he’d never openly confess it. Instead, he uses his insecurities to comfort you. No one could make you feel as warm as he does even if they tried.

Thinks it’s all his fault so he often apologizes on his behalf even if it has nothing to do with him.

This man lives in constant fear that one day you’ll just up and leave him—just like in his last relationship—so he lives everyday reminding you just how much he loves you.

Scatters random love letters and post-it notes around your shared apartment, his favorites being, “I love you my little milk-bread stealer” and “remember when we shared a kiss at the altar? me either, let’s make that memory together :)”

Sends you gifts from his travels. As cliché and romanticized as it is, he’ll write you post cards from wherever he is because sometimes a simple text isn’t enough.

Shyly suggests to take you out on a date to make you feel better. He feels the most vulnerable here so if you decide to tease him a little bit he’s pouting for the rest of the night. It’s 100% worth it though to see this gorgeous man’s plump lips puffed out as he brattily glares at you through his thick eyelashes 😩

If someone hurt you, Oikawa is immediately all over it. He isn’t extremely violent, nor has he ever been, but when it comes to you he’s willing to throw hands with just about anyone. However, if it’s a body builder three times his size, he’ll most likely call up Daichi and Iwaizumi to help him 😅

Checks in on you every so often. Since his job has him overseas a lot, he’s hardly home but he always makes the effort. He catches wind that you’re crying while he’s in Peru? He’s FaceTiming you almost immediately, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. Once he even FaceTimed you in the middle of a preliminary match.

(^We all know that oikawa was single because his ex-girlfriend said he spent too much time playing volleyball so I think he’s extra cautious about his time because he’s so scared that you—the absolute love of his life—is bound to leave him for the same reason. You wouldn’t, of course, but he’s mindful of it regardless 😭)

Hesitantly lays you on his lap, moving slowly to make sure you’re comfortable. If you make no effort to move away, he’ll lean into your touch and rub soothing circles on your shoulders:

Oikawa’s movements are silent. He’s gently pulling the collar of your oversized shirt passed your shoulders and gently pressing his lips against your neck. His kisses are soft, eagerly trying to cover every inch of your skin as you let out shaky sobs.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” he cooes, nuzzling his nose into your hair as his hands run up and down your sides, “I’m here for you. Everything will be alright now, I promise.”

Would definitely stick his tongue out cutely at you, threatening to kitten lick your tears away unless you stop crying. He probably wouldn’t do that because that’s kind of gross but it makes you laugh anyway.

Constant reassurance. He would tell you all the right things to make you feel loved and secure in his warm arms 💕

Posts “my s/o is sad so i am too :(” on his Instagram with a picture of you crying in his lap. Your face isn’t shown in the picture but the way you buried your face into his torso easily gave you away.

^ You’re beating his ass after that.

Depending on how bad you’re crying, Oikawa will either gently hold you in his arms with his fingers gliding through your hair or he’s silently listening to you rant. He might not have the answer to everything but he sure as hell is good at giving advice and listening. He’ll give you everything you need and more.

He even wears the cologne you love so that you can smell it when you cuddle him to sleep.

If he’s home pray to god for mercy 😭 he’s not letting you out of his sight, let alone out of his arms. Much like Kuroo, he has to be touching you. Doesn’t matter where or how, physical contact is an absolute must for you two (it’s his primary love language).

Let’s be honest, this cocky mother fucker would use this as an opportunity to turn you on. Like I said, he loves seeing you cry in the bedroom so once he sees your red eyes, tear-stained cheeks and smudged eyeliner, all blood rushes to his head. He gets so dizzy he physically can’t think of anything else. Once he feels that you’re starting to feel a little better, he’s jumping into action. His hands are snaking from your waist to the inside of your thighs, gently kneading your skin as his hot breath tickles the back of your neck.

“You look so fucking gorgeous when you cry, precious…I wanna see more. What do you say? Will you let me take care of you?”

^🦋🦋🦋

Would 100% send you pictures of cute dogs and himself

If you’re wearing makeup that gets ruined after you’re crying, he’ll touch it up for you as best as he can and if you’re being honest it’s better than what you normally do.

Tries to make you brownies but quickly remembers he doesn’t know how to bake for shit and nearly burns down your kitchen ☺️

Willingly gives you his milk bread in hopes of cheering you up

The kind of man to head to a bakery or flower shop before seeing you, getting you only the best things he could possibly find.

He’s a pretty good listener and would make connections to his own life to let you know that you’re not alone <3

“Please don’t cry, baby, what’s wrong? Want me to run to the store and get you something?”

5.5/10. He’s just too much of a drama queen to handle the situation 100% seriously

Overall an 8/10. He knows when to be serious so when you’re crying about something important, you better believe he’s going to be all over it. There wouldn’t be an ounce of joking or teasing in his voice until he sees a smile on that beautiful face of yours <3 (but then right after he’s back to calling you a crybaby 🗿)

s.k

Immediately panics, no matter how big or small the issue is. He doesn’t even have the gall to hide it, he practically has a mental breakdown in the middle of the living room and asks you what happened and if he needs to get the cops involved. (Sure on the court Suga was the best at keeping everyone calm but what happens when he can’t be calm? All hell breaks loose 💀)

Once he gets over his initial shock, he’s quick to react. He’ll do subtle sweet things like running you a warm bath with aroma therapy or giving you massages with essential oils—anything to keep your mind and body at ease 💕

More times than not, during your bath, he’ll pull up a chair and start scrubbing shampoo into your hair. Even though he’s not a masseuse, he might’ve been in his past life with how perfect his technique is 😩

The kind of man that would make you homemade pastries when you’re sad. Just imagine crying your eyes out in a dimly lit bedroom and Suga comes in with a dopey smile on his face and a plate full of apple flavored cream puffs. What’s better than that??

Would give you one of his hoodies since he knows you love the smell of his vanilla and citrus shampoo.

Professionally sings the song, “under the sea,” from The Little Mermaid. He’ll encourage you to sing with him and if you do, Suga’s heart swells. Doesn’t matter if your voice cracks or if you can’t sing, he just loves the fact you’re trying. (If anyone gets the reference—you’re hot.)

Wouldn’t hesitate to call Daichi if he suspects someone has been harassing you in any way, shape or form:

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Y/N’s crying.”

“Huh?”

“Y/N is crying.”

“Who is—hold on. Is this Sugawara-san?”

“Yeah.”

A sigh could be heard on the other side of the phone.

“…just a minute, I’ll send you over to Daichi-san.”

“Thank you.”

Click.

“Hello?”

“Daichi, Y/N’s crying.”

“…I told you not to call me at work, Suga—”

“But it’s important! I think someone is harassing them! They came home from work and wouldn’t stop crying! I think it has something to do with that bastard Kumura from sales!”

“….the one with the boat?”

“The one with five.”

“Shit,” a lot of rustling and the jangling of keys could be heard, “ETA 10.”

ETA: Estimated Time of Arrival

Makes you rest in bed for days. You developed a small headache from the crying and as soon as you mentioned it to your fiancé, he was immediately treating you like a sick child incapable of taking care of themselves.

Constantly uses pet names like it’s a mantra, so much to the point where you think he might have forgotten your real name.

He’ll even hit up the pretty setter squad to support you. They’ll all make sure you are laughing and smiling in no time! However, if he notices a certain blonde setter getting a little too close to what’s rightfully his, he won’t hesitate to grab you by the waist and establish his boundaries:

“Ooh, a new outfit,” Atsumu hums, gently running his fingers past the light blue material of your shirt, making you jump slightly in surprise. He chuckles, tilting his head to the side and grins cheekily, “hehe sorry, honey. Ya just look real pretty.”

You turn around and take notice of his lingering gaze on your body, making you shake your head and offer him a goofy smile. You were used to the twins’ blatant advances toward you, knowing full well he enjoyed teasing you any chance he got—especially if he found out you were feeling down. In a strange way, it was his way of comforting you.

“Hey ‘sumu,” you laugh sheepishly, taking a small step back from the flirtatious setter’s advances only for him to close the gap again, “how’ve you been?”

“Better now. I finally get to see ya, precious.”

Strike one.

“Precious? Well that’s a new one,” you snort, crossing your arms and keeping your eyes level with his, “where’s your brother?”

Atsumu’s eyes wander from your eyes to your slightly exposed chest right down to your thighs.

Strike two.

“He’s in tha back gettin’ firewood. Wanna go ‘round and see what trouble we can find, sweetheart?”

Strike three.

Suga wastes no time in pushing past his old orange-haired kohai and stalking up to the two of you, having seen the entire interaction before it even began. The blonde setter feels a sudden rush of cold air cascade down his spine but chooses to ignore it, big mistake. Not even a second later, the source of his discomfort is standing right in front of him, grabbing you by the waist and quickly pressing his lips against yours. You jolt, feeling Suga’s tongue prod against your lips as he stares right at you, as if to say, “keep your eyes only on me.”

Yeah, Atsumu left soon after lmao (forgive me—idk how to write the way atsumu talks 😭😂)

Being as artistic and crafty as he is, he attempts to paint a portrait of you. Initially, he was saving it for your anniversary but once he sees the crocodile tears streaming down your face, he decides to give it to you early.

Magic hands. It doesn’t matter where this man touches you, if his hands are anywhere near your body, expect a massage that’ll have you drooling. There’s just something about his soft yet firm touch that makes you fold. It doesn’t help that he knows all the places that make you squirm either.

Would cover your face in cute stickers for no real reason at all. You don’t have kids but because of Koshi’s job as an elementary school teacher, he’ll always have at least a pocketful of cute stickers his kids give him.

Gently pokes you on the side of your stomach, chanting, “negativity begone!”

Says things to himself as if you aren’t in the room. He’ll up and say, “I really wish that my amazing partner was happy! What could I, their oh-so-amazing fiancé, do in this a dire situation!” Which usually ends up with you giggling into his chest.

Makes you tea, coffee, or hot cocoa depending on your preference but is always so extra about it. Your tea would have honey and lemon served with a lemon bar, your coffee would have latte art severed with a slice of toffee cake and your hot cocoa would have marshmallows served with a s’more 💕

Just lays with you until you decide to speak. He’s really considerate of other people’s feelings, especially yours, so he would embrace you in his arms and waits until you’re ready to talk.

Gets his entire elementary class to do something for you. The next day after you’re crying, he’ll tell his kids that you’re not feeling well so he wants them to make something nice for you during arts and crafts time. Expect plenty of cute little hand-drawn cards, necklaces, and macaroni art.

Constant videos of him interacting with the kids. He’ll be dancing with one of the girls, playing catch with one of the boys or even singing with the whole class. It’s the cutest thing ever to see him messing around with them 😭

Just a super considerate sweetheart who holds you on a pedestal.

“Take as long as you need, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

1000000000/10. I don’t make the rules, he’s the best. No further debate 😭

i.h

Bless it be the lucky son of a bitch that gets to cry into Hajime’s huge, tattooed, biceps 🙏🏻

As soon as Hajime sees your tears it’s all over. He immediately jumps to the conclusion that someone hurt you and unless you tell him otherwise, he’s planning someone’s murder checking in with all your friends and family to see if they know anything.

(Very concerned and devoted husband 10/10)

As soon as he gets an understanding of the situation he approaches you more sensitively, gently asking you what’s wrong while he wipes your tears away. The last thing he’d want to do is make you feel worse of course.

The kind of comforter that’ll load you into his pick up truck and take you out on a late-night drive through the city.

He’ll come home from work ready for a night of classical music and body oil. As much as he refuses to admit it, he loves these moments. The evenings he gets to spend with you, stripped of all clothing, completely and utterly bare to him just so he can take care of you makes him feel whole. The feeling the warmth of your body under his touch gives him reassurance that you’re okay so as much as it helps you it also helps him. (It’s a completely sexless endeavor full of non-sexual love. He’s gently rubbing oil into your tense muscles, just wanting to make you feel better—he’d never take advantage of your vulnerability.)

Hajime’s day job as an athletic trainer requires him to know a lot about the body so the massages he gives you are absolutely mouth watering 😩 (sometimes you even pretend you’re sad just to get a full body massage)

When you look at him with those big, gorgeous, doe eyes of yours—brimmed with tears nonetheless—he swoons. He thinks you’re such a pretty crier and would tell you that without hesitation.

Randomly tapes passive aggressive letters to your bathroom mirror 😭

“Stop crying, you look like a gremlin. Love you ♡”

“Take a shower stinky, you’ve been in bed for days.”

“Idc if you’re sad, you better not watch 90 day fiancé without me.”

^and once he’s done being a little shit 🙄 he’s forcing you to cuddle him on the couch like the huge softie he is 💕

Shyly offers to cook you dinner. The adorable little blush on his tan cheeks as he shuffles into the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxers and a “kiss the cook” apron leaves little to imagination. At that point, you’re hardly crying anymore, all you can think about is how fast you can get him off under those pretty pink ruffles.

Playfully picks fights with you. You’ll have a small stain on your shirt that Hajime notices and he’s teasing you about it 😭 like you’re crying and he’s just like “babe…did you have mochi without me? How could you?” And you’re just there like 🧍‍♀️

His arms. That’s it. That’s your comfort.

Rubs the upper parts of your cheeks with his thumbs, removing the tears from your face before they fall. He hates seeing you cry, it makes him feel like he failed to protect you.

The kind of man that’ll play the song you two danced to at your wedding. The both of you gently swaying to the music as your daughter, Asaka, comes running in, doing her own little dance with her little bunny rabbit 😭

Like Tooru, Hajime will randomly send you selfies throughout the day. Most of them are either really out of focus or just plain dorky but they make you smile nonetheless. (A lot of them are just him flexing in the mirror at the gym)

Gives you his Godzilla™ hoodie then gets mad at you for wetting it 🗿

Takes your daughter out of school early to surprise you at work.

Asks Oikawa to play a few practice matches with you when he’s in town, knowing how much you enjoyed watching the Argentinian play:

“Iwaizumi,” the brown-haired setter rushes off to the side of the court, catching you and your husband laughing at something by the bleachers. It was like high school all over again—the image of young Hajime trying to pick you up in the gym suddenly flashed in his mind.

Both you and Hajime turn.

“Yes, ‘kawa?”

“What’s up, shittykawa?”

Two completely different responses.

“Oh,” Oikawa reels back in embarrassment, cheeks glowing red as his eyes flickered back and forth between you and your husband, “I keep forgetting you two have the same last name. Still haven’t gotten used to it.”

You both share a quick, knowing glance, before bursting out into fits of laughter. That’s right, you remembered, watching Hajime strike up a conversation with his best friend with a look akin to annoyance, you were an Iwaizumi. The realization almost made you start crying again. Almost.

If you have long hair, Hajime is using one of your daughter’s hair ties and putting your hair up in a ponytail so your tears won’t stick to your bangs.

Constantly poking your cheeks. He just loves the feeling of your soft skin in his hands so he’ll knead at the small squish in between his palms until you’re muffling your words. He does this a lot when you’re crying so you stop talking and breathe.

Loads up animal crossing on your matching Nintendo Switches (you both have the limited edition green and blue one) and gives you cute things he finds around his island like white cosmos and blue sea shells 😭 he’s also the kind of person that would spend all day setting up a ocean-side cafe in game to surprise you on a little animal crossing date 🥺💕

^(idk man, the idea of seeing hajime spending hours perfecting the ideal picnic spot has my heart all warm and shit. For reference, your date spots would look something like this 😭😭)

Practically force feeds you if he suspects you haven’t been eating well.

Tickles you 😭 this man would be a menace if he finds you crying. He’s pulling out the “tickle monster” card and chasing your ass around the house until he’s got you trapped underneath him. Your daughter thinks it’s a game and joins him 🗿 the little traitor—

The kind of man who’ll prioritize you above all else. Everything that isn’t you become irrelevant and the only thing on his mind is how he could possibly make you feel better.

“Hey hon, want me to take the day off? We can go to that amusement park you and Asa are always talkin’ about.”

11/10. Hajime just has a comforting aura around him that makes you instantly feel at home. The combination of his biceps wrapped around your waist, his natural scent of oak, and the gentle rain pattering against the hard-panned window is all too perfect 💜

I ran out of ideas lmfao

||Requests Open||

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christiansorrell · 1 year

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RPG Read-through: Himbos of Myth & Mettle

After my recent read-through of .dungeon//remastered (originally posted to Twitter), someone there was like "I really like your old read-throughs. Have you put those somewhere else for when Twitter inevitably dies?" I hadn't! So here is a read-through I did last year about one of my favorite releases from the last few years Himbos of Myth & Mettle! - Christian

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Time to read-through one of the most fun games I've played this year: Himbos of Myth & Mettle by Maxwell Lander!

Right out of the gate, this game has such an exuberant, fun energy to it, and I like the voice throughout the writing. The concept could be done much more impersonally/traditionally, but it really wouldn't carry the same feel at all.

Straightforward d20 roll-under system with guidance to create drama and fun over everything else. I've played with the dice chain optional rule and enjoyed it! It's something I love in other games and it's fun to see its inverse here (smaller dice are better).

Interestingly, the system has a mixed success component as well - although you may not expect it with the d20 base. It takes something like your ability modifiers from a traditional game and makes that into a window of error that gets you success with a complication.

The magic system is a lot of fun here. Any himbo can use their Heart stat to attempt superhuman or supernatural things. You answer some quick questions to determine the cost and roll to see if you pull it off. There's an effect table too if things go wrong with some wild results.

The Heart system is a good encapsulation of what I enjoyed about this when I've had the chance to play it. It has this vivacious, positive, and often cartoonish energy to it where things almost always go big, in good and bad ways. It's very heartfelt (no pun intended).

Fun art (by Mary Verhoeven) and quotes throughout this book too. I wonder if these were real player characters from playtesting or maybe in-universe Legends of Himbodom?

One of the most memorable lists of player stats out there. It stresses letting players use most stats for most things. Doing something very courageous in combat? Roll Breast over Thighs. Flirting with an NPC to distract them while you pick their pocket? Roll Lips over Hands.

Death is rare, rather Himbos take Scars when they fall to 0 Heart (acting primarily as health but also "mana" to some extent). Each scar makes them more and more jaded, a bit more negative. After 4 scars, they retire - becoming a hero maybe (yes, heroes are bad here!)

There are special abilities, skills (gained from a lifepath system), and Heat (a bonus pool that reflects how sexy you are in the moment). I had a lot of fun with the special abilities in particular when I played.

D20 tables throughout help build the tone really well. It's clear what kind of characters this game is focused on after looking these over. I really like lifepath systems in games, and this one is surprisingly extensive. It's fun to roll a random character and see who comes out.

Tips section gives some guidance about trying to create a different type of story and different types of conflicts than you typically see in fantasy RPGs. I really like the take on Heroes here. It's a great twist on the genre (and is probably more accurate, honestly).

It's got two adventures in the back, including the 12th Annual Fresh Meat Games which was the adventure I got to play through at EFCon. It's a local festival and competition that the PCs join to test their mettle in front of big crowds. Lots of fun.

Nice little thing: there's a library check-out card holder on the back inside cover with little character sheets in it!

That's the game! It's a lean little book, quick to read and quicker to play. It's got a straightforward central system with fun twists and tables throughout to ramp up the drama and really the entire text just exudes a unique, over-the-top, heartfelt tone I love.

It's available digitally for $10 USD on Itch!

The hardback version is great - really nice quality, it has a ribbon and those cool sheets in the back! I'd recommend picking it up HERE.

Lastly if you'd like to hear more from me, you can do that in my monthly newsletter (includes an article, an RPG freebie, and a list of cool stuff from myself and others over the last month): https://meatcastle.substack.com

#ttrpgs #fantasy #rpg #dnd #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #himbo #read through #himbos #maxwell lander

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sylvienerevarine · 6 months

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20 Questions for Writers

tagged by the wonderful, the elegant, the fabulous @blossom-adventures and @wispstalk! I love rambling about Literature (for the purpose of this exercise, Literature is defined as "stories about weird women in fantasy universes making bad puns")

I tag @elavoria, @bretongirlwrites, @thequeenofthewinter, and @oblivions-dawn <3

How many works do you have on AO3? 49, going back to the far-distant year of 2014.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 356,015. Damn

What fandoms do you write for? The Elder Scrolls universe, the Tolkien legendarium. Side note: isn't it funny how many more Silmarillion than Skyrim fics there are? Skyrim was one of the most popular games of the 2010s and the Silmarillion is an incoherent LOTR prequel that reads like the Bible. Wild.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Guess Who's Coming to Mordor (477), Fraternity (300), Wrong Side of the Bed (286), Hubris (186), Uncles (181). These are all Tolkien fics. Don't worry about it.

Do you respond to comments? Usually, unless I can't think of a clever enough reply or I just forget to.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Considering that Saint Sylvie is basically just a collection of comedy shorts, it has a surprisingly angsty ending.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? In the Tolkien Fandom, The Fine Art of Being Prepared. In the TES-verse, Land of Ash and Heart.

Do you get hate on fics? Very rarely. I occasionally get folks pointing out typos which is embarrassing but honestly, probably needed.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? ...yes, but I almost never post it on AO3.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Ok bear with me here. I once wrote a crossover between my original novel, set in 1860s Vienna, and the long-ass Victorian Tolkien AU that occupied my entire brain from 2018-2020.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, and if I did, I'd summon the Constables.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I once had a Tolkien fic translated into Vietnamese. It was an honor. I do not speak Vietnamese.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Not exactly, though I have co-written a series! (aforementioned Victorian au)

What’s your all-time favourite ship? From TES, Sophrine/Roggi. I am the only person who has ever written for this pairing. I am a hipster.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I refuse to give up on any of my WIPs. Someday they will be done!

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, comedy, romance, introspection.

What are your writing weaknesses? Fight scenes. I hate them.

Thoughts on writing dialogue on another language in a fic? I sometimes do, like if it's strictly necessary for one character to swear at another in Hungarian.

First fandom you wrote for? The Silmarillion.

Favourite fic you’ve written? Oooof.... Land of Ash and Heart isn't terribly popular but I love it, ok. It's weird and emotional and loosely inspired by Mamma Mia 2. Read it.

#my writing #this game was fun thank u friends

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isa-ghost · 1 month

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Outdoor Headcanons!

For the egg oc event run by @which-qsmp-egg-would :D

Here's Outdoor's ref!

He has 3 parents, 2 dads and 1 mom!

Trilingual! He speaks English, Spanish, and a secret third thing! (It's Elvish :P)

You bet your ass he's off somewhere making weird forest soups in A Bucket He Found. All other campers are welcome to join him. Let Them Cook!!

The second he's clean he's going right back outside to reacquaint himself with the soil.

Loves sunshine and thunderstorms equally. Please for the love of gods watch him closer when it's storming, he WILL go out to romp in puddles and watch lightning. He's got that Midwesterner syndrome, tornadoes and severe weather ain't shit 😤

He made the lil clusterfuck sun/flower/twig thing on his head (in egg form) himself! :D

He was meant to be named Outside by his parent because Ha Ha Almost Egg Pun. And then he was almost named Scout but he refused that one too because it's too basic. So he settled on Outdoor. No pun, not basic. Perfect.

The above probably makes it pretty clear, but he's a very headstrong egg! While he isn't exactly an anarchist and is by no means a brat, Outdoor knows what he wants and what he likes and you better have a worthy tradeoff to get him to do something he doesn't want to. He only cooperates via compromises, no "or elses."

LOVES to play pretend and roleplay. He's almost guaranteed to get a whole LARP game going with the entire camp. Or a good ol game of tag. He thrives on chasing people around. Hide and seek's fun too but with eggs? Too much can go wrong. (Side eyes a certain bear)

Outdoor has some. Um. *clears throat nonchalantly* Fa͝mil͘y ̧M͜e̸di̢c͝al His͢to̧r̀y̴ to be aware of, but he would actually really prefer if the average camper wasn't aware. His parent has informed the counselors and other relevant camp staff to ensure both Outdoor and other people at the camp are safe, happy, and healthy! Please do contact his parent for further questions via [my askbox]!

He has a twin sister, but she's too shy to join him at camp :(

Given that Chayanne is my favorite egg I am obligated to make my son Also a kick-ass little protector. But like. He does it himself, there's no family pressure behind it.

He has a temper. But hes been raised to have strong self-control in this regard and reserves it only for people or things that deserve it. Totally unrelated, I would not put it past him to bite Federation workers,,,,

He would be SO DOWN to go ghost hunting with other eggs, if any of them are brave enough.

Watches anime, but is super slow with getting through a show because most of his time is devoted to, well, being outdoors.

He used to loathe door puns (for some reason people will call him Door for short and he hates it) but then he started owning it and so help him, if you make a particularly bad one, he will find the nearest door and start spam opening/closing it while making hard eye contact.

LOVES swimming, please bring him to the nearest lake. He also loves wading in creeks and such looking for neat rocks and little critters like frogs.

Can do a backflip. Will find any excuse to show people how he can do a backflip. Please watch him do a backflip, his parent taught him how to do it. His parent is so cool.

He has the dumbest humor. It's his parent's fault. Sorry but [reverb burp/fart] is peak humor.

This child is so full of ADHD. Like SO full. And it shows, he's very much the hyperactive type. He also vocal stims, which, if not a meme he currently can't get enough with, is probably some kind of bird call or other wildlife noise. His biggest and longest-standing hyperfixations are on birds (esp corvids & raptors) and big cats!

#qsmp egg oc #Outdoor Eggo #qsmp

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notalostcausejustyet · 8 months

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As I’m settling into this whole academia business, I thought I’d share one of my first ever tumblr posts. Which turned out to be the basis for my first ever college essay. I’ll share the essay here after it gets graded later this week. Cheers.

On asking questions and public spaces

This is what happens when you have to take a dose of Excedrin for a migraine only a couple of hours before bedtime, because CAFFEINE. Sorry, not sorry! (Please note that for those of us who are gifted with brains of the divergent sort, caffeine only works as it ought when you need it not to lol.) So. Libraries. Libraries are magical. Always have done, even before they became a safe haven for the dispossessed members of our society (which is a brilliant bit of miracle working in its’ own right) but why? And the simplest answer is the obvious one. Books of course. Digging deeper for context here is important though. Before the internet was a thing (yes I’m plenty old enough for that) libraries were where knowledge lived. And not just the academic kind, knowledge of the world outside of what is permissible. I frame a lot of things around religious trauma. And it might seem like old hat, but it was a fundamental (pun intended) part of what shaped me into who I am now. I am 40, I am tired, I am STILL learning who I could be without the behavior patterns imposed by that upbringing. My very small town finally got a library when I was around 10. It was about a mile and a half away. Close enough to bike to, which meant I could go unsupervised. And I did. Volunteered in fact, one of the first summers they were open. Which is important. Because, yes I could check out books, but there was never any guarantees that what I checked out wouldn’t be inspected at home. Volunteering meant I could stash something in the office to read while I was there. And this is where knowledge comes in. I had read every copy of the National Geographic we had at home, the entire second hand set of outdated encyclopedia Brittanica, every bit of Christian fiction I was gifted. I read it all. But it was, for the most part, a carefully curated version of the world. Safely inside the boundaries of my fundamentalist bubble. Allowed. And then for one brief and glorious summer, I had the world at my fingertips. Any book, about anything I wished. No novel was out of bounds, no titillating synopsis had to be ignored. I could read it ALL. And I did. I read about evolution, I read about the Big Bang, the conception and gestation cycle in humanity, I read about the history of medicine and colonization, I dove headlong into fantasy and science fiction and read about queer attraction and love for the first time as something beautiful instead of seeing it painted as something unholy and wrong. I read about morality. And not the starkly envisioned morality of religion, but questions, hard choices, true acts of courage and sacrifice, shades of grey and unimaginable nuance in the world around us. I learned that I was not alone in my discomfiture when I pitted the world I was raised in against the world as it actually was. Knowledge. Direct from the tap, and I drank from it as a person dying of thirst. That summer took the tiny seed of questioning in my mind and planted it firmly in the fertile grounds of my imagination. Each new book was sunlight and rain to a rapidly growing NEED to better understand. I took many years after that one before the tree planted there grew tall enough for me to climb to the top and really see the world around me. I didn’t fully escape religion and begin the work of healing until my late 20’s. But it never would have been possible without that one summer. Without that library. Access to knowledge and storytelling is one of the most precious keystones in humanity’s development. It’s how we make sense of the world. It’s how we gain empathy and understanding outside of our own experience. It’s how we reconcile the questions we have against the world we live in. And like all things, it isn’t perfect. There exists as much capacity for deceit and evil within the pages of a book as there does in humanity itself, but without them we would be lost entirely.

#books have saved me so many times #good omens #yes good omens because that book took all of my unease with religion as a child and gave it language #books books books #public libraries #library appreciation post #I have a lot of very big feelings about literacy ok?

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cream-and-tea · 3 months

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HEYYY so. scanning a menu rn. pallas & agnes 11 12 14 and 56 because it's been half a day and i'm still incredibly abnormal about them 👍

well i’m abnormal about them too this is very effective symbiosis 👍 (questions from here!)

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

hmm. when it comes to pallas i think it’d come down to how whoevers doing the impersonating acted around other people. because from the outside pallas seems like they act the same way around everyone, but in reality they really don’t??? like they are openly hostile to almost everyone but often in slightly different ways. how they interact with fiver (who they hate) and calliope (who they also hate) might come across as very similar to someone who’s only observed them, no matter how closely, but if those two interacted with a doppelgänger one after the other they would probably be able to put together that something was Up. either that or agnes could ask about any of the shit that happens in chapter ten of the book bc literally no one knows about that except the two of them.

agnes has a lot of niche interests and hobbies that would make for easy testing but it’s also entirely in character for her to sometimes not remember obvious details/facts about them or mix things up, so i think watching how the imposter acted as her in a stressful situation would be the most surefire way to tell. if the imposter can’t replicate the specific way she snowballs from placating and peacekeeping to denial that anything remotely bad is even happening it would be a hard sell to the people (especially pallas) who know her. also she’s allergic to strawberries and i feel like that would be a hard thing to fake effectively lol.

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

oooo okay okay. for pallas i think there’s a painting in one of The Library’s art halls that’s some very simple pastoral scene of like. a girl sitting by a window with a cat on her lap. except. except. it is so clear that whichever artist did it could not paint animals for shit and the cat in the painting is medieval heraldry levels of weird looking. they probably found it while exploring as a kid, lost their mind laughing over it, and even now have to suppress a smile when walking past it. tbh not much makes them laugh but i do think they have a fondness for irony or observational humour, if only under very specific circumstances.

agnes struggles A Lot with jokes (itsthe autism ain’t it!!), she’s always laughing at the wrong things or not laughing at all or asking questions that ruin the punchline and it’s generally just a bad time for her, so i think for comedy to work for her it has to be very obviously intended as comedic and she has to know what exactly makes it funny, stuff like puns or even knock-knock jokes. she’s also someone who laughs a lot in general, either when she’s very happy or very nervous it’s kinda her go-to response. sometimes the circumstances of your life get so absurd that you just have to laugh at it all and she has loooong since passed that threshold

How do they put out a candle?

pallas does the “lick your fingers and pinch the wick” move but they don’t lick their fingers because they’ve got bloodflesh magic. except pallas almost never uses their powers for healing they just always think that hypothetically they could use their powers for healing, which means they’re accumulating reckless little injuries all the time bc technically they can fix them later. they like never remember to actually do that though.

agnes doesn’t “put out” candles if she lights one she is letting that thing burn to nothing so she can mess around with the melted wax. she’s also the kind of person who’d have more than one scented candle going at once so her room smells like a particularly tiny stuffy occult store

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

pallas generally doesn’t want comfort when they’re scared because that would require another person seeing them be scared and they would rather be dropped headfirst into the marianas trench than submit themself to that. but when they do want it they almost always want it from the director (<- head of The Library who became their personal tutor at age 13 when their powers started flaring out of control) (<- more succinct way of saying ‘who metaphorically stuck their brain in a blender and turned it onto the highest setting’)

this desire mostly stems from how they do view the director as a parental figure, despite her always insisting that all she has ever done for pallas is teach them and that is all she will ever do (<- things said by a woman about to obliterate any boundary in her relationship with this kid while still insisting on a facade of chilly professionalism.) and despite hating themself for viewing her that way. like that is their boss and their principal and their handler and their colleague and their god but that’s also their mom! and sometimes all they want when they’re scared is for her to tell them it’s not real it can’t hurt them and everything is going to be okay! the thing is that the director knows this and will occasionally offer parental comfort to pallas so that they have to choose between refusing it or accepting it and being punished for doing that. shits bad in here.

as for agnes she figured out pretty early that she couldn’t really turn to either of her parents (her mother would never take her seriously and her father would offer her comfort but then inevitably tell her mother who would get angry with her for upsetting her father. rinse repeat) so for years she ended up seeking out the ghosts she saw in the abandoned town her family were based in. bc of the nature of how ghosts work in lay me down they couldn’t be much help when it came to talking her down or empathizing with her emotions, but she developed a habit of finding the most frightening one she could (like someone who had died a particularly gruesome death) and focusing on that instead of what she was afraid of, which usually worked, and if it was only going to make things worse there were plenty of more peaceful-looking ghosts who it’d be easy to pretend to have a very soothing nice conversation with. flawless system!!!

now that she’s away from home and in The Library pallas has become her go-to person for comfort which they are. um. remarkably bad at giving. but the comfort they provide is a lot more tangible in agnes’s mind (even if something is coming to kill me pallas will kill it first. even if something out there is bad pallas is worse. pallas needs me so they can’t let me get hurt.) so she can handle their TOTAL lack of understanding and sympathy. they’ve also never outright denied her or turned her away when she comes looking for comfort no matter how uncomfortable it obviously makes them (i mean. they’ve never actively welcomed or encouraged her doing it either but that doesn’t matter to agnes at all) and she sees this as a promising sign that she’s making progress towards her eventual goal of Getting Pallas To Be Vulnerable. she gets to feel safer and she gets to make pallas express an emotion in front of her it’s a win win in her books. everyone is always saying ‘agnes why do you keep sticking your head in the lions (pallas’s) mouth’ and never how was the mouth was the mouth fun the mouth looked fun. also the lion (pallas) literally promised her it would never ever bite down. so there <3

#these were a lot of fun to do and i apologize for my inability to be coherent when it comes to these two #i start talking about them and then a switch flips on in my brain and i cannot stop myself lol #creme gets an ask #wip: ghost story #pallas and agnes

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somuchyoudontknow · 1 year

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I had a dissertation written about Chis 'Clown'' Evans and his racist, pos gf Alba Baptista but fuck it. Y'all already know the tea. My issue with all this bullshit is how his PR/ CAA agency are gaslighting his fans. I'm not one of his biggest fans. I didn't really get into his acting roles until the fist Captain America film which I watched in 2020 for the first time. He did a PHENOMENAL job! Chris has talent, he's really great at stunts, he has the build of a super hero- everything seemed to align for him. Until he got a little too cocky (no pun intended).

He was rocking the Gray Man premieres/interviews. Breaking the internet with his looks and fans eating up all of his interviews. Then he dropped this... I'm laser-focused on finding a partner bullshit. You should have seen all the women on Twitter throwing themselves at him, of course, he never replied to any of them. We know he had his hands full (of shit).

SMA comes around and people are psyched because Chris Evans finally gets the title but... a little blurb about him dating then 25 y.o. Alba Baptista for over a year sends the internet and the fandom into a meltdown- let a lone they were breadcrumbing, her team and gargoyle friends trolling his fans; and to top it all off- here bffs are Nazi sympathizers, racists and fatphobes. Chris has too many pictures of him with Alba and sitting with that crusty booger Justin. I honestly am disgusted by Alba, Justin and Kiko; these assholes have the nerve to make fun of people's race and appearances when all three of them look like the witches in Hocus Pocus.

Justin gave a half-assed apology on Twitter but people could tell it was insincere. Kiko allegedly has an entire website dedicated to Neo-Nazism. You trying to tell me Alba doesn't share the views of her radioactive roach friends? The three of them are delulu. First of all, the Warrior Nun fandom really hyped Alba the fuck up like she was Zendeya of Selena Gomez. Alba isn't a good actress. I tried watching Warrior Nun and couldn't get through the first episode bc her acting so terrible. I read an interview where she said she never took acting lessons, that's the only thing I believed Alba hasn't lied about- her lack of acting lessons. Furthermore, for all the hype her pr tried to do for her, she's low rent. No, I don't think she's that pretty either- another lame wannabe starlet with fake tits who badly edits her Instagram photos.

Chris Evans is stupid. I can't put it any plainer than that. He prob got a bunch of nudes from Alba and he thought he hit the jackpot. I DO believe they were in a relationship but due to the long distance between them- I think they both idealized love, got caught up in the sex and confused it with actual love- which I don't think either one of them knows what real love is. I was team PR for a minute but then I saw how Chris and Alba interacted at the Ghosted premiere: They stepped out the car together, he said something to her and she laughed. That didn't convince me that they were in love but they're definitely fucking.

Again, Chris Evans is stupid. He took a two-bit Jennifer Lawrence wannabe and put her racist, delusional crazy ass on a pedestal and let those 3 ugly, pasty-face, racist, fatphobic, acne-riddled morons mess up his fan base. All because of what? Love?

There is a Bible scripture 1 Corinthians 13 that says:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I don't care if Chris and Alba break up or stay together because the damage is done. His PR abused his fans and he let them do that. He's proud to be with her- that Valentine's Day photo dump looked janky but reall enough to see they were dating. We've all seen pics of her letting us know she was at his houses in MA and VT- she did it bc she thinks she's queen of the Evans' castle or some delusional shit. The girl is NUTS. So what does that make him?

Chris Evans is a fuckboy, a privileged cis-hetero male who maybe grew up around a few POC but his environment was predominantly white. I think he's okay with racist comments bc he prob has some in his own family. That's why he's been so comfortable having Alba and her pitbull face friends IN HIS HOME!

I need Chris to throw away the A Starting Point app- there is no way in hell he can go back to that Mr. Goody two-shoes image. I find him to be manipulative and calculating and yes - RACIST! He's been too comfortable around those gremlins for Portugal for too long to convince me otherwise. He just wants to sweep all of Alba's and his own bullshit under the rug. Chris Evans is also delusional. He can't blame the fans that supported you for 20 years and think you're going to be respected. I know he has been bullied but he brought this shit on himself for hooking up with a racist, antisemitic spoiled fucking brat.

Well, as you can see, I longer like Chris Evans, lmao! I just think he's a fucking douche bag that thinks he's cool with his dumb-ass, clownish goofy younger gf who thinks she's a star. Alba thinks she's hot with her big ass head, she look like Ghostface from Scream without that photoshop and makeup.

Chris is the poster boy for performative liberalism, pseudo-intellectualism, and complete head-assery. I can't get over how someone builds a successful, 20-year career and throw it all away for a racist, vomit-inducing trash box like Alba Baptista? An insecure man-child with deep-rooted low self-esteem who needs people around him to kiss his ass and soothe his wounded ego.

I don't hate Chris Evans, I don't like all the fuckery and drama his actions caused, he's just another Hollywood idiot with a pretty surface and a hollow brain. I hate shitty diaper Lolita Alba, crusty-ass Justin, and tire track-faced Kiko bc I hate racist& nazi sympathizing fatphobic assholes.

I really hope for the best for his fans because y'all didn't deserve any of this. I just can't with Chris, he's been fake af since Nov 22' or even longer than that- pretending to be this idealized version of himself; trying to be Steve Rogers when he's more like Steve Segal: mediocre, problematic, and consistently starring in terrible movies with a bad lace front wig.

#blackwell008 #chris-evans #alba-baptista

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innocentlymacabre · 1 year

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NOW THEY CALL ME THE PLAGUE ⤳ 7 snippets, 7 tags

I'm so sorry to whoever originally tagged me in 7 Snippets, 7 Tags, but I cannot find your post (gonna just deflect blame to tumblr here 🙃)

They say time slows down when you’re in the eye of the storm. When you’re seconds away from making a decision that could change your entire life in one fell swoop, the world starts to move more slowly around you, and you begin to see every tiny detail with previously unimagined clarity. Or maybe you start to move faster, whizzing around at speeds high enough to give you the time to stop and overturn each stone – either way, the world presents itself to you in the most convenient way it can; a quiet act of compassion, allowing you the luxury of altering the course of your life with conviction.

“Hello there, Trance,” Eda said, punctuating it with an elaborate mocking bow. “Still high then?” “Darling, when am I not?” he said, putting the blunt out in deference to Eda’s dislike for the smoke. “Not as much of a brag as you think it is, T.” “Please, if you worked normal hours like moi, you’d be right here with me.” “While we both know that’s not true, that is half a good point – why are you here? Your shift ended.” “Yes, but Dee and all her lovely rum is here. Why would I be anywhere else?” “Hmm, in case you missed it, that there is cannabis, not rum. Two very different things, I assure you.” “Ah, but this,” Trance said, raising the blunt from the cushion and waving it about, “is not one of her’s. A rather handsome man in a manbun sold me this just outside.” Leather Jacket, Eda thought, smirking inwardly. “Smoke before Smokey’s?” Trance said, affecting a voice much smoother and thicker than his own. “That was his pitch. How could I possibly turn down a pun as awful as that?”

Maya stared at Eda silently for a while, her lips flowing between variations of a playful smirk Eda couldn’t quite fully decode. She raised a hand to Eda’s face, brushing back the hair that had fallen forwards in all her bustle. “You have pretty eyes,” she said in her slow voice that Eda was beginning to like very much. She smiled by way of reply. She didn’t trust herself to speak while she could feel Maya’s skin on hers.

I’ve been in this realm for a long time. I drifted from port to town to port for a long time, but eventually chanced upon Thredfrost and saw immediately that it would be a fitting place to wait out the rest of my days. For one, it’s far less boring than those under the control of some ruler or monarch or man-child or the other. Two, Thredfrost takes care of its own. We don’t much care for laws or lawmen here, but we don’t take kindly to threats. And three – perhaps most importantly – no one asked questions. Asking the wrong people the wrong kind of questions could get you killed here. I wouldn’t, of course, but most others wouldn’t hesitate. And when you have the same face for several human lifespans that can come in handy.

There are many tales about the seas of the world, all chronicling a new and terrifying monster of the deep. Some of them were indeed thought up by the minds of landlocked poets and weary parents, but there is truth to every claim. Sailing on the open waters taught Eda that the hard way, and while she too had initially hunted down comfort at the bottom of endless bottles, it only worked while the rum was flowing and her throat was on fire. The moment the heat died down, everything they had stared down – or run away from – plagued her every moment again.

There have been no shortage of situations in Trance’s life where the prudent course of action was abundantly clear – in this case, mind your own business and go back to bed. Unfortunately, they had never been good at taking these courses or minding their own business, so their course of action was just as clear: grab a dagger off the cabinet inside, then scramble back down the stairs and scurry over to the dock to investigate this strange, glowing, phantom ship. All in all, not the worst decision they’ve ever made.

“Just when I was beginning to wrap my head around one crazy thing, another crazy thing rams into it, throwing it all into a crazy tizzy once again! Typical!” he complained. “Oh, I really need to work on my impulse control. I shouldn’t be outsourcing something like that to Eda. Although, it could be argued that she only has that impulse control because of her time at sea, so in a way, I’m just training myself like she did. Momentary moment of self-doubt crushed!” As Trance watched with renewed – but not entirely earned – confidence, the choppy seas morphed. They twisted and lapped over each other until the waters of the seas turned into landscapes of deserts, forests, mountains, beaches, and geological formations that he couldn’t even name. They continued to cut through it all as if it was still water, speeding along rolling dunes, endlessly growing trees, and plains stretching to the depths of the ocean bed before coming to a mercifully balanced halt at a port thrown into ravaging disuse. It waited there for a moment, as if the ship itself was surveying the scene below. Seemingly having made whatever decision it needed to, it rocked forward slightly and made a sharp nosedive.

no pressure tags! @ajnata @junypr-camus @ellafoxglove @sourrcandy @enchanted-lightning-aes @authoralexharvey @lexiklecksi

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tommysversion · 1 year

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Unconditionally: Joel Miller x OC (Part 2/10)

Summary: Lucy loves Joel Miller unconditionally. A cross country trip to escort an immune, bad mouthed teenager to safety might just prove it.

CWs: canon typical violence / unsafe sex / age gap / language / spoilers (if anyone cares) / canon divergence / mentions of attempted sexual assault / themes of previous suicidal tendencies

Note: this work is intended for adult audiences only. It is not strictly canon compliant, and was originally posted to A03 when I first ventured into the fandom.

Chapter Index: 1 /

Lucy kicks at a stone as she walks along the row of abandoned vehicles, jerry can in her left hand, swinging slightly.

As far as days go, it’s a nice one. Clear sky, a slight breeze. No people, no infected, just her and Joel and Ellie in Bill’s old truck, pulled over at a rest stop for gas.

It just doesn’t last as long as it used to. Twenty years has watered it down. It’s still usable, but nowhere near what it once was.

Ellie’s gone inside to use the bathroom, to try and loot anything that might still be useful. It’s possible; they’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s likely there’s still some decent loot in there. Lucy doesn’t bother to check. She’s got her backpack full of bullets, MREs, and a change of clothes. A couple boxes of tampons. Some tylenol. She’s set, as far as she’s concerned.

Her new rifle is slung over one shoulder, her handgun at her hip. Oh, and she can still feel the heat of Joel’s mouth on hers as he fucked her like the world was ending, whenever she takes a moment to close her eyes, even though it’s been days. Yeah. It’s a good fucking day.

Lucy crouches down by the fuel tank of an old wagon, pops the cap, and inserts the drip hose. The whole process takes about ten minutes, but the result is a full jerry can. She has to resist the urge to whistle as she practically saunters back to where Joel is crouching, draining the remnants of another vehicle.

“Got some gas.” She drops her bounty carefully. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Waiting in the truck. She found some god awful pun book.” Joel sighs, as he straightens up. “Good thing you found gas too. This shit isn’t gonna last like it used to.”

“We’ll make do.” Lucy bends to pick up her own can, then gives him a fleeting smile. “We’ve got this.”

“Since when were you such a damn optimist?” He asks, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Who knows? It’s a mystery. Maybe my entire outlook has changed.” Lucy laughs, leans up and presses a light, brief kiss to his lips.

They can’t get distracted, not here, not now, but it’s just a soft affirmation that she’s there, that she sees him, that she cares. He tastes like gasoline, but she doesn’t care.

“Yeah? Can’t say I mind.” Joel takes her can from her, leads her back to the truck, a small smile on his face as he fills the tank with the contents of one, placing the other in the back for later use. “Fair warning, Ellie’s pun book might kill that.”

Lucy laughs as she swings herself into the passenger seat.

“We’ll see.”

Joel just shakes his head and starts the engine, leaving Lucy to ride shotgun and keep an eye on the road.

She remembers the first handful of times she ever met him; the way she’d been the middle man for those in the QZ who needed medicine, the one doing the brokering, until Joel kept bringing back the wrong drugs. Not on purpose, of course, but he wasn’t a pharmaceutical expert, he didn’t understand that one sort of antibiotic may not be the right kind.

So Lucy had bartered her own ration cards, her own resources, for him to take her with him out of the QZ to collect the drugs herself. He’d been stoic and grouchy about it at first, until he’d seen her shoot.

They’d done a handful of runs like that, where she’d paid him to take her out, to watch her back. On the maybe seventh time, he’d just shown up at her door and asked if she was coming. No payment exchanged. No mention of it ever again. They’d just slid into an easy routine, Joel smuggling in whatever he was paid for, Lucy bringing in medication for the poor of the QZ, watching each other’s backs whenever they ventured out together.

She never asked about his relationship with Tess; they worked together, they were close, that was all she knew. All she wanted to know. She’d gotten along well enough with the older woman, but they’d never clicked the way she and Joel had.

Lucy almost felt guilty that she had lived, that she was the one making this journey, that Tess hadn’t made it, but she knew it was in no way her fault. She found herself wondering whether Joel wished it had been the other way round, even with their newfound intimacy. That wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on, knowing it would overwhelm her if she allowed herself to think on it too much.

She and Joel had ventured out of the QZ together, fought together, protected each other. When a man in the streets of the QZ had threatened her, Joel had beaten him within an inch of his life; that desperate, primal need to protect taking over. Lucy thought she might have been attracted to him before, but that moment had been the defining moment for her, the moment she knew she was desperately in love with the older man. The moment he’d cradled her in his arms, knuckles bruised and bloody from his vengeance on her attacker.

She could still hear his voice as he carried her home.

“I got him for you, darling. He’s not gonna hurt you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you ever again.”

How could she not love him?

She took a deep breath. Then another. Opened her eyes. They were still on the open, abandoned road, the late afternoon sun fading slowly into what promised to be another chilly night. She turned her gaze to Joel, her eyes taking in his side profile, a small smile on her face.

“Want me to drive for a bit?” Lucy offers, forcing herself to look back to the road. She could have looked at him for much longer, but she knows it’s silly; she’s too old to be lovesick, but Joel drags it out of her.

“Nah, we’re stopping soon.” Joel nods to the forest on their right, before he makes a turn into the field, cutting across it to get to the forest.

“Making camp for the night?” Ellie leans forward from the back seat, “Cool.”

“Put your seatbelt back on.” Joel grumbles, drawing a groan from Ellie and another small smile from Lucy.

He drives them into the thicket of trees, keeps going for a few miles before he finally pulls the truck to a stop.

“This will do.”

Joel grabs his rifle and slides from the truck, beginning to unload a few supplies from the back. Lucy stares after him for a moment before Ellie thumps the back of her seat.

“God, you two are fucking gross. Quit staring so we can eat.”

Lucy hates that she blushes as she slides out of her seat, leaves her rifle in the cab but checks her handgun at her hip.

“Shut up.” She manages as a retort, before she moves to help, leaving Ellie snorting with laughter behind.

The trio sit around the portable camp cooker, tin plates of canned ravioli on their laps. Ellie eats like she’s never seen food before, like she’s not sure where the next meal will come from.

Lucy can’t say she blames the kid, honestly. She knows what it’s like to be hungry.

“Slow down.” Joel admonishes, looking up from his own plate to stare at Ellie.

“This is slow.” Ellie retorts. “What am I even eating anyway?”

“This is uh, 20 year old chef boyardee ravioli.” Joel pokes at the food.

“That guy was good.” Ellie enthuses.

“I actually have to agree.” Joel admits; many a night when he couldn’t be assed cooking were saved by the canned meals. Not the best in terms of health, but hey, it tasted alright.

Lucy smiles, picking at her own plate.

“Personally, I preferred the beef stew.”

“Bet that’s hard to find now.” Ellie sighs, wraps her coat around herself. “Can we make a fire?”

“Now why am I gonna tell you no?” Joel asks, not with any heat to it, more in the sense of a father teaching his daughter a lesson.

“Cause it’ll attract infected?” Ellie hazards a guess.

“Nah.” Lucy says.

“Fungus ain’t that smart. Besides, we’re too far out for infected. It’s people you gotta worry about out here.” Joel scrapes the remnants of dinner from his plate, grimaces at the thought.

“People? Why? They gonna rob us?” Ellie sounds somewhat amused, “You guys have big guns.”

“They’d do more than rob us.” Lucy says, exchanging a dark look with Joel. She knows he’s thinking of that night in the QZ once more, of the man who had attacked her.

Ellie takes the hint, her expression dropping into one of concern before she masks it behind cool teenage indifference.

“No fires, then.” She seized a sleeping bag from next to them, unrolled it and sniffed. “Huh, this actually smells good.”

“You got Frank’s, then.” Joel quips, surprising both of his companions with his humour.

“Yeah, yeah. You two can share, right?”

“Don’t see why not.” Joel’s expression betrays nothing, even when Ellie stares at them, her expression loaded.

She’s almost disappointed she doesn’t get a reaction, huffs, settles into her sleeping bag, rolls with her back to the adults. Lucy assumes it’s their ward’s way of giving them some privacy.

Out here, in the woods, there’s no chance of taking off shoes, of sneaking any sort of true intimacy. Lucy double knots her bootlaces before she slides into the sleeping bag, and, even more enticingly, Joel’s waiting arms.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected; perhaps him to pretend nothing had happened, in spite of his promises. She’s glad to have been wrong, rests her head on his chest, inhaling the gasoline gunpowder sweat scent of him.

“Hey, Joel?” Ellie calls from a few feet away.

“Yeah?” He’s instantly alert, tense against her at the call.

“Those people… there’s no way anyone’s gonna find us out here, right?” Ellie asks, trying so hard to be nonchalant, but her anxiety is peeking through in her tone.

“Nobody’s gonna find us.” Joel affirms, and Ellie sighs in relief.

“Cool. Cool.” She flops back down into her sleeping bag, rolls over again.

Joel sighs, still tense. Lucy immediately understands his plan.

“Wanna take turns keeping watch?” She whispers.

“No, you get your sleep. I might need you to drive tomorrow, okay?” He presses a soft kiss to her lips, then her forehead.

“Okay.” Lucy nods, tries not to look too pathetic as Joel slips from her embrace and wriggles from the sleeping bag, getting to his feet and collecting his rifle.

She wants to stay awake, truly she does, but it’s easy to fall asleep knowing the man she loves is watching over her, knowing he’d never let anything happen to her or their ward.

And so sleep she does, whilst Joel keeps vigil over both woman and child, a one man army against the silence and still of the night.

——

Joel’s exhausted, but he tries not to let it show as he packs up the truck the next morning, waiting for his coffee to brew. Lucy wakes first, sits up, crawls out of the sleeping bag. Her expression is one of half awake, regretful alertness as she surveys their surroundings, rolls up the sleeping bag and crosses to dump it in the truck bed.

“Did you get any sleep at all?” She asks, her eyes roaming over him.

Her concern might have once irritated him, but now? It’s endearing.

“Not really.” It’s a half truth - he gave up any hope of sleep and spent the night on guard.

“Joel…” she reprimands, might have gone further in telling him off if he doesn’t have other plans; he leans in to kiss her instead of talking.

Instantly she melts into his touch, leans in closer, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Don’t worry too much, baby.” He says softly, “I’d rather you were both safe. Besides. There’s coffee.”

The smell of the brewing coffee wakes Ellie; the young girl shuffles over to the camping stove still in her sleeping bag, gingerly sniffs the coffee pot before opening it and swiftly recoiling.

“What the FUCK is that?” She exclaims.

“What? You don’t like coffee?” Joel asks, straight faced.

Ellie pulls a face in response, complains about the smell the entire time they load up the truck, even when the coffee is poured into a sealed thermos.

“Is that really what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” Ellie asks once they’re on the road, Lucy in the back this time.

“Well, it was fresher than the stuff Bill hoarded, but yeah. That’s what they sold.” Joel nods, glancing over at the map on Ellie’s lap.

“Smells like… burnt shit.” Ellie comments, nodding in satisfaction at her own assessment.

Joel’s response is to give her the side eye and loudly gulp from his thermos, leaving Lucy shaking with silent laughter in the back seat.

“Just read the goddamn map.” He says finally, somewhat unsettled by how normal this all feels, how easily they’ve settled into an almost family unit type feeling.

He doesn’t dislike it, but he dislikes having something - someone - to lose.

——

Lucy’s never been to Kansas City before, never planned on going, let alone planned on crouching in an old abandoned building, hiding from a full blown militia whilst Joel shows Ellie the correct way to hold the gun she took from Bill and Frank’s place.

The gun she fired to save Joel’s life, when Lucy had been powerless to help him, trapped six feet away. She owes the teen a life debt, in her eyes. They’ve had close calls before, but nothing like this. She never, ever wants to be so powerless to help him ever again. Turns out he’s not the only one with a deeply protective streak.

“What’s the plan?” Ellie says finally.

“Head for that big apartment building. Get a good view of the city, try and spot a way out.” Joel answers.

Lucy looks at him briefly, the way his hair is mussed, the small blood spatter across his face from where he’d put that young man out of his misery. It hadn’t been comfortable to watch, to watch a man barely above a child beg for his life, but Lucy can’t say she isn’t used to Joel being violent. It’s what he does; he has a violent, feral side to him that comes out when the people he cares about are threatened, and somehow, somehow, she and Ellie have made that extremely minuscule list.

“Cross the city, with those guys out on the street?” Ellie stares at him in disbelief.

“We’ll wait them out, then sneak through. It’ll be fine on foot.” Joel assured her, shifts his backpack onto his back.

They’ve lost a fair amount of supplies with the loss of the truck, but thankfully they were all smart enough to heavily stock their backpacks, just in case. The damn things are heavy, but at least they have a few basics to get them through.

“If you say so.” Ellie shrugs, then, “it’s gone quiet out there.”

“Time to make a move.” Lucy says, checking the ammunition clip for her rifle.

“Absolutely.” Joel turns to Ellie, “put your gun in your pack.”

As they move out, Ellie slips her handgun into the pocket of her sweater instead.

——

“C’mon, get up, you lazy ass.” Ellie sticks her hand out to Joel, who’s sitting slumped against the wall of their pilfered apartment.

“Lazy ass? I’m fifty six years old, you little shit.” Joel grumbles, but nonetheless takes the teenagers hand and allows her to haul him to his feet. Lucy returns from her sweep of the apartment, lowering her gun when she reaches them.

“All clear.”

Thirty three floors up, and his legs are killing him. His legs, and his lower back.

“Fifty six? No fucking way.” Ellie snorts, then turns to Lucy, “are you that old too?”

“Do I look that old?” Lucy asks, without rancour.

“No, I’m just fucking with you. How old are you, anyway?”

“Thirty six.” Lucy admits, as the trio cross into the living room, pull cushions off the couches to sleep on. Makeshift beds will do just fine.

“Fuck, still ancient.” Ellie snorts, throwing herself down onto her makeshift bed whilst Joel spreads broken glass onto the carpet by the entryway.

Lucy doesn’t argue; she can imagine how old she must seem, to a fourteen year old. Remembers how old grown adults seemed to her at that age. The only thing that prickles her is the reminder of the age difference between herself and Joel; twenty years separate them, even if they don’t acknowledge it. In this new world, it doesn’t seem to matter too much, but she still doesn’t like to think on it too much. In case it reminds him, and he decides he’d prefer someone older and wiser.

She had always worried he’d prefer Tess, but that seems like an unfair fear; he chose her, after all, and she doesn’t want to compete with a dead woman. That isn’t fair.

“Hey, Joel? Are you gonna hear if anyone comes in?” Ellie asks as Joel flops himself down beside Lucy, draping his arm around her waist.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Noticed you don’t hear so good out your right ear.” Ellie shrugs.

“I’ll hear it just fine.” Joel frowns, turns away from her, makes a big show of laying on his other side. Lucy takes the opportunity to rest her head against his back, wrap her arm around him. It’s nice to be the big spoon for once.

There’s silence for a few minutes, then…

“Hey guys?” Ellie’s voice fills the silence.

“Yeah?” Both adults respond immediately.

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. It runs in your jeans.” Ellie says, deadpan, then cracks up laughing. It takes a moment, then Lucy joins her.

Joel can’t help it, he starts laughing too.

“That is so goddamn stupid.”

“You laughed, motherfucker.” Ellie says between laughs of her own.

“Yeah…” Joel admits, still laughing, “guess I’m losing it.”

“You’re absolutely losing it.” Ellie agrees.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” Joel grumbles, but he’s still laughing; Lucy can feel his body shaking slightly against her, buries her own smile in the back of his shirt.

It’ll be nice for them all to grab some sleep, considering Joel went without last time.

Secure in the knowledge of weapons within arms reach, being thirty three floors up, and the glass on the floor, the trio settle in for the night, exhausted and desperately in need of rest.

——

The makeshift bed made from couch cushions is soft, and Lucy’s body heat is warm and comfortable against him; it’s no wonder Joel manages to get a decent sleep, the best sleep he’s had since they crashed at Bill and Frank’s place. At some point, he must have rolled over, to face Lucy and Ellie. Almost subconsciously wanting to be closer to them, to not turn his back.

Unfortunately, Ellie’s observation had been right; he can’t hear shit from his right ear. Which leads to him sleeping through the intrusion, right up until…

“Joel… JOEL!”

He jolts awake, sees Ellie knelt across from him with a gun to her head. Sees the kid standing over him, gun aimed at his chest.

“Don’t.” Lucy’s voice is ice beside him. “Don’t point that fucking thing at him. Point it at me.”

The kid ignores her, glances to the young man who has a gun trained on Ellie.

“Don’t move. Don’t reach for your weapons.” He instructs. “You don’t hurt us, we won’t hurt you. You good?”

Joel just glares. Ellie rolls her eyes. Lucy doesn’t move, but her gaze is murderous.

“Be cool.”

“Oh, yeah, this is great.” Joel snaps, “totally fine.”

The kid - he’s barely older than Ellie, to Joel - keeps his gun up.

“Dude!” Ellie turns her head slightly to face the older kid, “he just has an asshole voice. It’s cool.”

The kid lowers his gun, then frowns.

“You guys got food?”

Lucy feels a little better the moment there’s not two raised guns in the room, but she probably still would have been explosively angry had the kid not asked that question; she’s venomously defensive of Joel, that’s a plain fact, but the question throws her off, really makes her look at the two boys - because that’s all they are, kids - who have taken them by surprise. The younger boy would barely be ten. The older of the duo, maybe nineteen or twenty, tops.

“We have a little to spare.” She says finally.

It’s not the weirdest situation Joel has ever found himself in, but it comes sort of close; him, Lucy, and three kids sitting around a lantern, passing round food.

“I’m Ellie, by the way.”

“I’m Henry. This is Sam.” The elder of the brothers introduces them both, as his younger brother points to himself and signs his name.

Ellie nudges Joel with her foot.

“I’m Joel, this is Lucy.” Joel considers for a moment, then passes another food package over to Sam. It’s almost unconscious, the way he treats kids that he comes across. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, the paternal instinct is still enormously high in him, just buried.

——

“So that’s your genius plan?” Joel raises an eyebrow at Henry, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed.

“No, that’s my dicey as fuck plan, but it’s all we got, so.”

Lucy smiles in spite of the situation; she has to hand it to the kid, he’s got guts.

“I think we should go with it. Henry’s right, it’s all we got.” She offers, giving Joel her best reassuring look.

She knows it’s difficult for him to trust anyone; she’s much the same, but in this scenario? It’s probably best the five of them stick together.

“Yeah, alright.” Joel relents, hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “Better get going, then.”

——

As Henry predicted, the tunnel is empty.

“See; what did I tell you?”

“We literally just got down here.” Joel says, exasperated, before turning to Ellie. “Get your gun out.”

Ellie nodded, pulling her weapon from the pocket of her hoodie. Joel stared at her; he was absolutely certain he had told her to put it in her backpack. Oh well. What’s the point in arguing about it.

“Keep your eyes open and your mouths shut. We don’t know for sure that it’s empty down here.” Joel said finally, taking the lead.

“Man, your dad’s such a pessimist.” Henry said, looking to Ellie.

“He’s not my dad.” Ellie responded, at the same time as Joel affirming the same thing.

“Huh.”

“Guys, look at this.” Lucy nodded to the walls, painted by children as they walked further into the tunnels.

“There were people down here?” Ellie stared as the group headed towards the door.

“Once, yeah.” Joel frowned, then threw out an arm to stop Sam from heading through the door first. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ve got it.” Lucy stepped in front, pushed the door open, gun raised.

The room beyond was clear; it had once been what looked like a school room, with paintings and posters and children’s activities still lying around.

“Can we stay here for a bit?” Ellie asked, watching Sam head for the drawing table.

Joel almost said no. Almost. But there was something about letting the two kids just… have a moment to be kids… that appealed to him. Give them a moment. Let them be free of the burden of this world for a moment.

“Yeah, alright. May as well wait it out until it gets dark, get some cover.” He flopped down into a chair, fine with being beaten for once.

——

The group emerged onto a darkened street, completely deserted. No people, no infected. Just quiet. Too quiet, for Joel’s liking.

“Not much further.” Henry said, “we just go across the river embankment, then we’re out.”

“Where are you guys gonna go? We’re going to Wyoming.” Ellie said, ignoring the look of irritation from Joel. “What? Wyoming’s got room for two more people, surely.”

Joel just shook his head.

“He’ll change his mind.” Ellie informed the two boys, “he always does. First he’s all, Ellie, no, not ever ever ever gonna happen.” She mimicked Joel’s gruff tone, “but then I just ask him like… a million more times and - SHIT!”

A bullet went whizzing past her head.

“Get down!” Joel dragged both Ellie and Lucy behind the nearest stationary car.

“Sniper.” Lucy peeked over the hood of the car. “One, coming from over there.”

“Thinking what I’m thinking?” Joel’s voice was grim, “we sneak round the back and take him out. Clear the way for these three.”

Lucy nodded.

“Wait; hang on. You can’t go out there, you’re gonna get killed!” Ellie protested.

Joel scoffed. “It’s dark and his aim is shit, he’s not gonna kill me.”

“Then he’ll kill us!”

He sighed. “You trust me?”

After a moment, Ellie nodded.

“Okay. Then stay here, with Henry and Sam. We got this. I’m not gonna let anyone hit you, ok?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Lucy, let’s go.” Still crouched, the adults crept away, behind cars, dodging errant bullets as they went.

It was relatively easy to find the house, to creep up the stairs and find the sniper who was laying siege to them.

Lucy hadn’t expected an old man. She hadn’t expected him not to surrender. It was almost with great regret that Joel shot him in the head, before taking up the sniper rifle.

“Hold them in position! We’re almost there!” Came through the radio beside the fallen enemy.

Joel and Lucy exchanged panicked looks, peering out the window to see the approaching convoy.

“RUN! RUN!”

All hell broke loose.

——

Lucy was still shaking as they crossed the river; she had seen infected before. Plenty of infected. But one like that? That hideous, terrifying giant that had come out of the ground like a beast from hell itself? Yeah, she’d be having nightmares about that one for a while.

Joel, at least, had stopped shaking the moment they’d reunited with the three kids; she was so incredibly proud of him, of how he had silently gotten to work clearing the way, sniping any infected that got close to Ellie.

It was a side to him she had never seen; of course, she had seen him be protective. Been on the receiving end of it, too. But that? That sense of parental urgency to protect one’s child? She could only imagine that was how he had once been with Sarah, and now, reluctantly, Ellie.

Nobody spoke as they left Kansas City behind, finding an old motel a few miles out. As Ellie and Sam made themselves somewhat comfortable in the double bedroom, reading their comic books, Joel, Lucy and Henry checked the windows, barred the door, before finally sinking into chairs and allowing themselves to breathe.

“What an absolute fucking nightmare.” Lucy said finally, leaning her head on Joel’s shoulder.

“Gonna have to agree.” Henry commented, head against the wall, exhaling.

Joel said nothing, just watched Ellie and Sam huddled up together over a book, the latter teaching the former some of the sign language for the words.

“Look, I don’t know how we’re getting to Wyoming. Probably walking. But… if you want…”

The invitation was clear in the words, plain as day, even if Joel didn’t actually say it.

“Yeah. Yeah that’d be cool… it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend.” Henry looked over to the bedroom too, a small smile on his face. “I’ll tell him in the morning. Let them get some sleep first.”

“Good idea… you can tell them it’s bed time then.” Joel managed a small half smile, which Henry returned, getting to his feet.

“May as well get some sleep ourselves.” Lucy said, stretching out onto the floor, tucking her coat under her head. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it would do.

It would be better in the morning, when they could hit the road. Maybe, just maybe, they could be something resembling a family.

——

The comfortable, still, silence was broken by a piercing scream. Joel, Lucy and Henry jolted awake just as the bedroom door burst open, Ellie scrambling out before being tackled by…

“He’s infected…” Lucy’s voice was strained, aghast, as she backed up.

“Joel!!!” Ellie yelled, terror plain in her voice as she tried to wrestle her former friend off her, “help me!”

Henry turned his gun onto Joel as he stepped forward, horror plain in his features; for a moment there was a tense, horrible stand off, Joel and Lucy unable to move to help, Ellie struggling and screaming on the floor.

Almost in a trance, Henry turned the gun on what had once been his brother, and fired.

Ellie screamed again; Joel moved almost on instinct, to move to comfort her.

“Are you alright?” It was a stupid question, and he knew it; before he could get any further, Henry turned the gun on him.

“Whoa. Whoa.” Lucy held her hands up just as Joel did the same.

“Don’t… come on, Henry, give me the gun. It’s okay…” Joel’s tone was strained, but somehow still soothing, still empathetic.

Henry turned his gaze to the growing pool of blood on the floor.

“Sam…” his voice was almost a whisper as he lifted the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

Both Lucy and Ellie screamed together this time as he hit the floor. Joel said nothing, an aghast look across his face.

——

Joel doesn’t bury his dead; it’s not the world he’s used to. It’s harsh, yes, but you leave a comrade where they fall. That’s not the world he wants Ellie to know. It seems too cruel, after everything she’s already been through.

It’s for that reason that they wrap their fallen friends in bed sheets and carry them outside, to the dirt and grass opposite the motel, and dig graves.

It’s a stark contrast to shovelling ashes and dumping bodies into mass fire pits like back in the QZ, but it reminds him that they’re human.

Ellie places Sam’s writing pad on his grave; for some reason, she’s written “I’m sorry” on it. She doesn’t say anything else. Just picks up her backpack and dumps Joel’s at his feet, then starts walking.

“Which way’s west?”

“That way.” Lucy pointed.

“Then let’s go. There’s nothing here for us anymore.” Ellie turned away, not wanting to cry in front of the adults.

Joel sighed, took one last look at the graves, squeezed Lucy’s hand.

“Let’s get going.” He agreed, regret filling his voice as they followed Ellie onto the deserted, open road.

#my writing #rue unconditionally #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #joel miller fic #tagged: jocy #the last of us #hbo tlou fic #ellie wiliams

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