#i give a dry attempt at comedy

[the-s1lly-corner]

Love that you opened requests for TADC!

Could you please do a scenario where Jax pulls a prank on the reader and locks them in a closet, but he has no idea that they have claustrophobia? They end up being found by someone else later, and Jax ends up feeling really bad about it?

(honestly love me some hurt/comfort)

Thank You!

Aftermath of a Prank (Jax x reader w/ claustrophobia)

wasn't sure what to name this since "jax traps you in a closet and feels bad" doesn't roll off the tongue that well LMAO i hope you enjoy this! imma admit, usually when it comes to writing for new characters i read up on others interpretations of them to get a decent handle of them + the canon stuff but i think im gonna wing it this time

It's not often that Jax genuinely apologizes to someone for something he did. often time he will give a huff and a half hearted sorry, or try to play the entire thing off... but there was something different about the current situation at hand

You see, Jax thought it would be funny to get you stuck in a closet, for one reason or another to push some joke he had in mind. What he did not have in mind, however, was the possibility that you were afraid of tight spaces.

Afraid you were, even more so because the closet was dark as well.

Jax was already long gone, claiming that he was going to run off to do something before departing. You asked him to let you out, thinking that he had simply pretended to leave.

But he truly had.

Discomfort turns into fear. Unsure calls for help turn into yells, which turn into you attempting to punch and kick the door open. Your eyes burned with hot tears.

You couldn't have been in there for more than ten minutes before Gangle opened the door, nearly catching your fist to her mask. It likely would have broken and revealed her tears, had her comedy mask not already been broken. She only squeaks in surprise, too stunned to move out of the way but thankfully you were able to reel yourself back in at the last second.

You muttered a quick apology before pulling yourself from the tight space, trying to steady the wobble in your steps. You and Gangle did not exchange any words, with you making your way to your room.

Word gets out. Gangle tells Kinger what happened. Kinger tells Pomni. Pomni tells Ragatha. Zooble finds out, but they don't care enough to gossip around. Before long Ragatha is telling Jax about it, with her own hunch that the rabbit was the one to blame.

Could you blame her? Jax has a bit of a track record...

Point is, Jax eventually finds out how scared you were through the grapevine and for once he actually feels bad about something. Annoying and spooking someone is one thing, but to instill genuine terror was another thing.

He wants to apologize, but it's such a foreign thing that he keeps putting it off. Days pass, with you now avoiding him, which only make him feel worse.

After another day of you only giving him dry responses he ends up cornering you, finally having enough of the guilt eating him up

Apparently not learning his lesson the first time but I digress

"Look," He said, square pupils fixed on you.

A sigh

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think you'd flip,"

Not perfect, but it's a start.

"If I knew I wouldn't have, I swear," he added when he was met with silence. From seemingly out of no where, he pulls something out

An object you like, be it a flower a book or something else that he found lying around the circus

You took it, observing, then looked back up at him. He did look remorseful, even if he didn't really say it.

That would have to do, that's the best you're going to get from him. Baby steps

From that day forward, you notice that Jax lightens up around you, pranking you less and generally being a little less annoying when it comes to you

[leclsrc]

a charles drabble with love language/s pls.... its all i want its all i have ever wanted

real love baby – cl16

You express love differently, but it’s love all the same.

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy it! this is a scheduled post – my brain is so wonky and i absolutely needed to get back into writing before my hands atrophied and i wasted away into dust …. so i worked on a months-old req that i previously scrapped. am i happy w this? well i’ll answer that honestly and say

It happens first when you’re still friends.

Charles gets off a late meeting that’s wormed its way into the late hours of night, costing him hours of rest or training, and the paddock is empty save for staff members setting up for Sunday. He’s still got Sauber merch slung over his arm when he clicks on his car keys—when the lights flash, he notices a shadow by an adjacent car. “Hello?” He calls out, apprehensive. They let anyone into the area these days.

“It’s me,” says your voice, amused at the clear nerves his voice exhibits. “Why’re you leaving so late?”

“I couldn’t leave without making sure everything was set for tomorrow.” There are circles under your eyes, obscured by the lens of your glasses, the ones you wear when you’ve been staring at text or a screen for hours too long. You work a lot in the crux of a season, coordinating investors for Mercedes and making sure money is where it’s supposed to be every single day. “We’re getting budget breach accusations.”

“I planted them,” he jokes half-heartedly, leaning his side against the trunk of your car. You laugh, rolling your eyes. It’s not the funniest joke in the world—it wouldn’t pass at all if he did that at an open mic—but something makes it easy to do so, to throw your head back and affirm his attempt at comedy. 

Charles is so tired—from driving in the morning and results in the afternoon to a meeting that lasted hours and discussed basically his entire fucking future—but he enjoys having you laugh at something he’s said. He doesn’t really know why, just savors the way your necklace glints in the dim light of the parking lot and the leftover lighting from the paddock several metres away. 

“Funniest joke I’ve heard in a while,” you say mutely, sarcastic. Your car is on but you’re not getting in.

“Does Henry not entertain you with jokes of his own?” He asks lightly, smiling. “Henry? Harry? Or is he busy with… what was it, an online rap career?”

“Harvey.” You’re not laughing, and in fact displaying some expression that’s half amusement/disappointment, but he can spot the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “You knew that. And he’s not an online rapper.” Anymore, you leave out.

“Oh, that’s good. Was worried he was out to get Drake’s career.” You raise a hand to threaten him playfully, a genuine laugh escaping your lips. Your teeth flash and your eyes crinkle and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “Appreciate the jokes while you still can,” he says anyway. “My migraines lately have made me very sluggish.”

You blink, reaching into your patterned handbag and producing a tiny bottle of Advil. “Take it,” you tell him, lips pursed. “Can’t have this year’s best rookie having chronic headaches.” You push it into his hand and smile tightly.

“Thanks,” he stutters, his throat dry. “I’ll see you around. With Harvey, maybe. You could introduce us.”

“Hah. Not sure that’s something I’d… I’d really want,” you dismiss quietly, watching him round the space to open his car. Louder, you add, “Let me know when you’re okay.”

He looks at you then downward. Then at you again, smile on his face. “I will.” He raises the Advil and gives it a shake. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you say, grinning. 

—

The next time it happens (the next time you can both remember well, at least) you’re in the sweet little in-between of being friends and something else. He calls it his courting stage; you, your begrudgingly allowing it stage. At that point things had gone awry with Harvey, since he’d decided to jump back into his pursuit of Soundcloud fame.

“Hey.” You duck into the gym room, your head just in between the door and the frame. Seb sees you, bumps his teammate to catch his attention further; Charles jogs to you and leans against the wall, crossing his arms to hear you continue. “I’m leaving early today. No money issues.” You nod squarely. “Parce que I stole the funds.”

“I warned you. If you keep talking about embezzlement I’m going to have to kiss you,” he whisper-jokes, smiling.

He watches you hide a laugh, visibly flustered and stuttery, and he swears his chest hurts from how much it affects him, how strong his attraction is to you. He’s almost terrified of it, comforted only when you open your mouth to respond: “Are you gonna be in early tonight?”

“I, uh—” He turns to Seb. “We’ll be done in an hour, but I’m driving so I’ll wait around ’til later. Just… I’ve been too sore to properly get these moving for long so I need to rest for a bit.” He wiggles his arms and fingers. “It’s, well. The price you pay for being very muscular.”

“Jokes write themselves with you,” you scoff, cocking your head. “Okay, then. Um—I’ll see you.”

An hour later he leaves to take a piss and dick around while waiting for the dull ache at the nape of his neck to relax, and instead finds you in the Ferrari motorhome, close to sleeping. Your eyes snap open when they hear the pad of his sneakers against the floor. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” He smiles, his heartstrings tugging. “What’s… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting.” You mirror his expression with quiet grace. “I can drive you back, Charles. It’s—you shouldn’t be driving yourself in this condition. I got Andrea to drive your car to your hotel.” 

Despite his protests, he does end up becoming the passenger, and by extension the navigator and deejay, queuing up songs for you both to sing along to. In the unfamiliarity of the city and the dull exhaustion seeping into his bones, though, he’s asleep to a Police song before long. His hand rests softly on the centre console.

At the red light right before the hotel, you interlock your pinkies to wake him up. “Mmmff?”

“We’re near,” you notify, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Thank you,” he yawns. Then for good measure, “Didn’t know I was in such good hands.”

“You ever gonna stop with the jokes?” You ask amusedly, turning right.

“Not if they make you laugh.”

“They do,” you murmur, fond. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says quietly, holding your hand fully.

—

Life became a blur of little moments like those after that night.

Sure touches, words of assurance from Charles; little deeds from you. Whispered in French or Italian or English while he wrapped you in an embrace on bad days. A spout of cheers on the better ones. A water bottle with a Post-it: Finish before noon!!! when he’d gone to bed mouthing off about being thirsty. A cup of coffee on the counter the way he liked it on days you both had the time.

Sometimes it would switch: that time you were sick and he showed up to the Mercedes motorhome, Evian and meds in hand every six hours to make sure you were up to sched with your cold medication. That time you wrote him a letter for your third anniversary and watched him wipe tears off his face before he even made it halfway. Another time he organised your flat’s entire bookshelf according to all your standards (only to ask you to move in a week later and redoing the organisation at his place). And another time you gave a speech on Charles at a gala and he accepted the award, again, tearily.

But every action, every word, every joke, every hug, has always been motivated by love. The kind of tender love, that was unfamiliar in the same way it felt so much like home. The kind of love you read about or your parents would send you off to sleep talking about. Love so foolish, but so sure—neither of you have ever needed to doubt for a second. The kind of love so big it should be confusing, but you’ve both come to find it’s anything but, that you always seem to be on the same page, or at least capable of getting there. Closeness, intimacy, friendship—that’s all it’s ever been.

And everything, punctuated with the same sentiment, the same words, ever since the first time:

“Thank you,” he says in one breath, his voice heavy with love, with overwhelm. “Thank you, thank you.” He finds your ring finger and slides the diamond atop it. 

“Anything,” you say, smiling in-between kisses, “anything for you.”

[krispycreamcake]

hello! I really like your writing! If you don't mind may I please request headcanons on how laito would react to someone (a bride or classmate or something) who always tried to make him laugh by telling him jokes and stuff. please and thank you!

Headcanons on how Laito would react to someone always trying to cheer him up

🃏- Now everyone knows Laito is always in the mood for fun

🃏- Well to be fair, his fun and other people's fun are two entirely different types of fun

🃏- Usually he likes to mentally mess with you, tease your mind, make your head spin because he gets a sick thrill out of it

🃏- That isn't to say he's not one to indulge another person's idea of what it's like to humour oneself

🃏- Be it a bride, a friend, a classmate, he'll lend you an ear

🃏- Don't be fooled, his patience is extremely thin and unless you're the peak of comedy, he'll get bored quickly and easily turn the conversation around into something that benefits him

🃏- Now, if you're strong willed and can ignore his words and actions, he'll respect that

🃏- If anything, it makes you more interesting, which then makes him want to listen to more of your futile attempts to make him laugh or sport a smile

🃏- Let's say it's lunch hour and you're sitting at his table. Depending on your relationship, he'll either leave you and your jokes high and dry to go make out with some girl in a broom closet, or he'll entertain you

🃏- Over time of course, his tolerance grows and he doesn't believe himself when he eventually starts enjoying your company and your positive nature

🃏- He's grown accustomed to having you around and subconsciously counts on you to improve his mood

🃏- Maybe he got a scolding from Reiji just before school and he's ticked off, tell him how he looks emo, you might get a smirk (you will)

🃏- He'll probably minimize this feeling as nothing other than boredom (he's afraid to admit he doesn't feel completely numb around you)

🃏- It's such an odd thing for someone to genuinely want to make his day better by giving him something without him having to do anything in return

🃏- See this is where it'll kinda fuck him up

🃏- It's not about the jokes or the great atmosphere you seem to carry around yourself whenever you guys are together

🃏- It's the fact that he's having trouble coping with the idea that someone wants him to feel good without the use of sex

🃏- So maybe you're trying to use him, get closer to him and when he's his most vulnerable, you'll strike at him when he's fully exposed

🃏- He cannot have that be a possibility, he'll lose his shit

🃏- A part of him is glad that despite all his bullshit, you're there for him in your own way

🃏- Another part of him is telling him to run far far away

🃏- By attempting to getting close with Laito, even if it's something as simple as jokes and smiles, he'll consider it a major red flag and might not know what to do with himself

🃏- After all, what if he's wrong and he just pushed away the only person that cared about him?

🃏- Humans, women, people, feelings, society. It's all just too confusing for him

🃏- "Ne~ Bitch-chan, you're so quiet. Ah- I get it, do I need to tell you a joke today? Or should we improve your mood some other way hm?"

[chickenkurage]

You’re not you when you’re hungry. Grab a snickers. (Farmer AU)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Where in, DJ’s code is really old, so he gets confused sometimes. In short he loses control and becomes a bit aggressive, luckily Alan and his apple kids is there to fix him up (just some bitch slapping and cuddling, you decide who did what)

Tag: Comedy, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Violence and Fluff.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Red! No!" DJ exclaimed as he knelt beside the red apple, swiftly scooping him up in his arms and shooing away a crow poised to take a bite. "Meep! Meep!" Red cried, squirming in his embrace and nestling against his neck, his tiny form trembling.

"Aww, Red, it's okay. Relax, I've got you," DJ murmured soothingly, giving Red a gentle pat on the head. "Meep," Red chirped again, wriggling toward DJ's neckerchief and seeking refuge beneath it, eliciting giggles from DJ. "Red, that tickles," DJ chuckled, slipping his hand into his neckerchief and retrieving the red apple.

"Meep meep!" Red exclaimed joyfully, bobbing his head happily.

"Hah! You're adorable," DJ remarked as he cradled Red, heading back towards the farmhouse. He caught sight of Cho and Dark lounging in a rocking chair on the front porch, peacefully dozing under the warm sun. 

"Look at them snuggled up," DJ whispered, glancing down at Red, who observed the two pineapples cuddling.

"Wait, I have to take a photo," DJ exclaimed, swiftly reaching into the pocket of his jumper and retrieving his phone. He opened the camera app and snapped multiple pictures of the dozing pineapples. 

"Look at them," DJ remarked, showing the screen to Red, who gleefully waved his arms up and down in agreement.

"DJ? Are you done with work already?" Alan inquired, approaching with dirt-covered legs and arms, holding Sec in his arms, who looks equally dirt-covered as Alan. "Not yet, but Red here had a close call with a crow, so I think he should stay indoors for now," DJ explained, his expression furrowed in concern.

"Oh, that's not good. I should probably bring Cho and Dark inside too," Alan suggested, nibbling on his lip as he glanced at the two pineapples peacefully napping in the rocking chair. "Perhaps we do need a scarecrow," DJ mused, heading towards the front door. He kicked off his dirty boots before stepping inside.

Alan grunted and followed DJ inside, carrying Cho, Dark, and Sec in his arms, he mused, "Maybe." Placing the three pineapples on the couch, he then made his way to his room. "Anyways, I need a bath; I'm covered in dirt," Alan remarked, waving to DJ with a peace sign before ascending the stairs.

"'Kay," DJ replied, letting Red bounce off his arm towards Sec, who joyfully embraced him. "Oh, my heart," DJ chuckled, watching as Sec pulled Red towards Dark and Cho, who appeared to be engaged in a silent exchange.

"Maybe that's their way of communicating?" DJ pondered, tilting his head.

"Hmm, where are the others? Yellow? Blue? Green? Vic?" DJ called out as he strolled towards the kitchen, wearing a puzzled expression.

"There you are! What are you all up to here?" DJ inquired with a laugh, bending over to peer under the table. He spotted Green and Yellow laying over Blue, while Vic stood towering above them all.

The fruits turned to gaze at DJ, who felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead.

"Alright then... I'll let you guys do your thing," DJ said with a grin, rising to his feet and sauntering towards the fridge to retrieve some cold water.

Humming a tune, he fetched a glass, poured the water, and downed it in one go, releasing a contented sigh. He fanned himself lightly before rinsing the glass and leaving it on a drying rack.

"Chip! Chip," Vic chirped, waddling over and tapping DJ's leg with his stubby arms. "What's going on?" DJ inquired, tilting his head as he knelt down to meet Vic's gaze.

Vic simply stared up at DJ before attempting to climb his knees, struggling to hoist himself up by grabbing onto DJ's jumper.

Amused, DJ chuckled and lifted Vic, cradling him in his arms as the gray pineapple clung excitedly to the front of his jumper. "Alright, alright," DJ laughed, bouncing Vic gently as he rose and ambled towards the living room.

Suddenly, a pounding headache gripped DJ, causing him to pause and groan, his hand instinctively reaching for his throbbing head. "Chip?" Vic tilted his head, gazing up at DJ with a perplexed expression.

"H-huh? I'm fine, just a bit of a headache. Probably the heat. Here, sit with Sec and Red," DJ explained as he gently settled Vic on the couch next to the other fruits.

"Chip?" Sec cocked his head, glancing between Vic and DJ, who seemed to be struggling.

"Ugh, perhaps the heat is getting to me," DJ groaned, massaging his temples and removing his glasses to rub his eyes. As he did so, his vision momentarily clouded, a fleeting moment where everything appeared red and distorted. Startled, he shook his head in confusion, rubbing his eyes and focusing on the puzzled gazes of Vic and Sec, who were watching him intently.

DJ staggered towards the stairs, his head still pounding as he weakly called out, "A-Alan?" His hand clung to the wall for support, his vision swirling, prompting another groan of discomfort.

Amidst a cacophony of chirps and meeps, everything around him began to tint red, an overwhelming sensation washing over him, sending his senses into a frenzy.

“Chip?” Cho chirped, gazing up at DJ with concern, hopping off the couch to get a better look at him.

“Chip?!” Cho exclaimed, stepping back in surprise as DJ let out a low growl. "W-what are you? What kind of code are you? Must... clean…" DJ muttered dazedly, his fists clenching tightly.

Sensing the danger, Dark hopped off the couch and swiftly grabbed Cho's arm, yanking him out of harm's way just in time to avoid a powerful stomp that shattered the wooden floorboards.

“Meep!!” Red cried out in panic, flailing his arms as Sec swiftly grabbed him, pulling him to safety.

“G-get back here!” DJ growled, his demeanor unsettling, causing Cho and Dark to emit loud, anxious chirps as they gazed up at him, noticing a strange red hue in his eyes. 

Before they could react, a sudden purple blur intervened, pushing DJ away and causing the dark orange figure to land heavily on his back with a pained grunt.

“DJ! What the hell are you doing?” Alan's voice cut through the tension, water droplets still dripping from his head as he stared at DJ with disbelief. “Chip! Chip!” Dark and Cho scuttled behind Alan's legs, seeking refuge in fear.

“What's going on with you?” Alan demanded, furrowing his brow as DJ struggled to regain his composure, his gaze unfocused. 

Alan's expression shifted, a sense of recognition dawning on him. “Not again. Cho, Dark, go hide somewhere safe. Take the others with you,” Alan instructed, casting a concerned look towards the two pineapples.

Cho nodded in understanding and quickly took Dark's arm, leading him away to find a safe hiding spot.

“Clean... Clean orders,” DJ murmured, his hand pressed against his head, a mix of confusion and pain evident on his face.

“DJ... it's me, Alan. Do you remember?” Alan spoke softly, cautiously approaching the troubled dark orange figure.

“Hnn Alan? Who? Where... orders, I have orders, have to follow,” DJ muttered, his demeanor conflicted as he suddenly lunged towards Alan, a look of determination in his eyes.

“DJ!” Alan exclaimed, moving swiftly to intercept DJ's punch, grabbing his arm just in time.

Growling, DJ raised his other hand, attempting another strike that Alan effortlessly blocked.

“DJ! Snap out of it! It's that damned code, isn't it?” Alan's voice was firm as he pushed back against DJ's relentless assault, his feet sliding on the floor. “Wake up, DJ. I don't want to fight you. We've moved past that,” Alan growled, his fist clenched in frustration.

DJ remained unresponsive, his gaze unfocused and distant, caught in the grip of some unseen force.

“You need to stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself at this po-” Alan's warning was cut short as DJ swiftly closed the distance between them, seizing the front of Alan's shirt and hurling him upwards with such force that the roof shattered, sending Alan crashing back down, in front of the house with a resounding thud.

“Ow! Creators above!” Alan groaned, wincing as he sat up, his hand supporting his aching back.

A hand clenched Alan's shirt once more, compelling him to meet the emotionless gaze of DJ. What caught Alan's attention most were DJ's eyes—devoid of emotion, his pupils flickering and shifting through a spectrum of colors. 

“Damn the code,” Alan muttered under his breath before swiftly taking action, grabbing DJ's wrist and deftly flipping him over, pinning him down with a knee pressed firmly against his back.

“DJ, please, come on, wake the hell up,” Alan urged, applying pressure as DJ clawed at the soil, growling in defiance. “DJ! Snap out of it! Wake the hell up, you idiot!” Alan's voice filled with desperation, he turned DJ onto his back and delivered a sharp slap, knocking DJ's glasses askew.

“Achk! Alan?!” DJ cried out, his hand flying to his stinging cheek.

“DJ? Oh, thank the creators, you’re back,” Alan breathed a sigh of relief, easing off DJ's chest. “What happened? My head is killing me, and my back too,” DJ whimpered, a tear escaping his eye as he sat up, pressing a hand to his throbbing head.

“Your code is acting up again. I really think you should let me fix that,” Alan suggested with a furrowed brow, bending down to retrieve DJ's glasses from the floor and handing them back to him.

“Oh no! Did... Did I hurt the kids?” DJ's voice quivered with panic, his hand trembling as he covered his face, curling into a protective ball.

“What? No, you didn't. I intervened before anything serious happened. Thank goodness when these glitches occur, you never seem to retain your fighting skills, or else the house would've been in shambles,” Alan remarked with a light-hearted tone, kneeling beside DJ.

DJ, overwhelmed with emotions, buried his head under his arms, his remorse palpable in the air.

“I feel like a terrible friend and a terrible dad. I'm sorry, Alan. Did I hurt you?” DJ's voice quivered as he sniffled, seeking reassurance.

“You didn’t even manage to scratch me,” Alan reassured with a smirk, patting DJ's shoulder gently.

“Still... they’re going to be scared of me... this hasn't happened in a while. Usually, I only get migraines at best,” DJ pouted, his guilt weighing heavily on him. Alan then took DJ by the shoulders and pulled him into a comforting hug.

“It's alright. We'll explain it to them. I'm sure they'll understand... and about the roof... you have to fix that,” Alan reminded, prompting a chuckle from DJ as he leaned back, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“What happened? Did I throw you through the roof or something?” DJ asked in disbelief, his memory still hazy from the glitch.

“You did. Now, it's your turn to fix it as payback for tossing me out of my own house,” Alan teased with a grin.

“Now get up and let’s head back inside. I need another bath,” Alan said, eyeing his dirtied shirt from the fall.

With a groan and aching head, DJ struggled to his feet. Alan reached down, offering a helping hand. “Thanks, Alan. If it weren't for you... I might have really hurt them,” DJ admitted, a frown etched on his face as they slowly made their way back into the house, wincing at the sight of the broken roof.

“Meep! Meep!” Red chirped excitedly, bouncing over DJ's feet.

“Oh Red... uhm... I'm sorry,” DJ murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Meep!” Red exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden display of emotion from the normally composed dark orange figure.

“Ah, don't worry, Red. He gets like that when he's feeling really under the weather. Come on, let's get him to his room,” Alan reassured, offering a small smile as he supported DJ, whose legs wobbled slightly. Red followed closely, bouncing along, while Sec trailed behind, looking visibly concerned.

“Hey, Sec,” Alan greeted as he carefully guided DJ to his bed, helping him lie down.

“Nnn,” DJ groaned, his hand pressed against his throbbing head as he turned away, seeking some relief. “Chip?” Sec tilted his head, gazing up at Alan with a worried expression, then pointing towards DJ with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Alan sighed, “He has these moments sometimes where... his code, you're aware of that, right?” Both Red and Sec nodded in understanding. 

“His code is really old, and sometimes it gets confused. Usually, he gets sick or gets migraines from resisting it, but this time it seems like he didn't even get the chance to resist before it completely took over him,” Alan explained, his expression clouded with concern.

“Meep? Meep! Meep!” Red waved his arm up and down in frustration before hopping off the bed's edge, attempting to pull himself up by grabbing the sheets.

Sec hurriedly rushed behind Red, giving him a gentle push to help him climb onto the bed. Red bounced over to DJ, who was still groaning in pain, his face contorted with discomfort. “Meep...” Red chirped softly, placing a comforting hand on DJ's arm, prompting the dark orange to slowly open his tired eyes and gaze at him wearily.

“Hey, Red... I'm sorry you had to witness that,” DJ mumbled, his eyes drooping with fatigue.

Red let out a sad whimper and nestled against DJ's arm. “How about you rest? I'll gather your other kids to watch over you while I whip up something for you,” Alan suggested, picking up Sec from the floor and turning towards DJ.

“Mm, okay,” DJ agreed, curling his arm around Red and closing his eyes, seeking some much-needed rest.

[♡]

“Meep?” Blue tilted his head curiously while Yellow peered over DJ, who was resting peacefully, his breathing slow and steady. “Meep Meep,” Green exclaimed, waving his hands in excitement before breaking into a cheerful tune.

Red perked up, joining in with his own melody. Soon, the room was filled with a soft, harmonious tune, gently rousing DJ from his slumber. He chuckled as he noticed the four apples perched on his pillow, their gazes fixed on him intently.

“You guys are so cute,” DJ remarked, reaching out to tickle Yellow, who let out a small shriek before darting off to the side of the bed with an indignant meep. “Hah,” DJ laughed softly, slowly sitting up. Green and Blue bounded over, settling in his lap and bouncing around with excitement.

“Whoa, what's gotten you guys so thrilled?” DJ inquired with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. Beside him, Red let out a happy meep before wrapping his stubby arms around DJ's side, eliciting a light giggle. “Aww, you guys,” DJ cooed, as Yellow bounced back towards him, joining Green and Blue in his lap where they now snuggled up together.

“Oh, damn it, where’s my phone?” DJ exclaimed, a hint of panic in his voice, as he watched Red join the small dog pile on his lap. He patted his pockets frantically, letting out a sad whine when he couldn't locate his phone.

“Looking for this?” Alan's voice came from the doorway as he waved DJ’s phone in the air. “Yes!” DJ exclaimed in relief, only to flinch when he felt the apples shift in his lap, before they settled back, already drifting off to sleep. “Here you go,” Alan said, walking over to DJ and handing him his phone.

“Yes, yes!” DJ cheered softly, snapping a few photos of the cozy dog pile before letting out a contented sigh. “I'm actually here to take you out to eat with me, but it seems like you're quite busy with your 'kids,' huh?” Alan remarked with a playful tilt of his head.

“Yeah, I don't want to move just yet,” DJ replied with a grin, glancing back down as he felt Blue shifting around under the pile. “Alright, but before 6 PM rolls around, I'm dragging you out for a meal, okay?” Alan declared.

DJ gave him a thumbs up, still beaming. “Gotcha,”. 

"Good,” Alan said with a small smile, placing a reassuring hand on DJ’s shoulder.

“Uhm, about the roof... I will really fix that!” DJ said with a furrowed brow, rubbing the back of his head. “I-I know we agreed no more fighting between us, so I’m really sorry about earlier. I just—” DJ started, only to be interrupted by Alan's embrace, the latter patting his back gently.

“Relax, man. Why are you so worked up? It's no biggie,” Alan reassured, as DJ pouted and returned the hug tightly. “If you say so, man,” DJ replied, easing back as Alan did the same. “Yeah, totally. I know that wasn't really you,” Alan added, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” DJ tilted his head, puzzled by Alan's laughter.

“You're not you when you're hungry. Grab a Snickers,” Alan quipped again, before covering his mouth to stifle his laughter, while DJ let out a sigh. “Good one, Alan,” DJ mumbled, a faint smile playing on his lips.

[thatstonedwriter]

⋆｡˚ 「 Bad Trip 」 ⋆｡˚

◉ Sinopsis; comforting you after indulging too much during your first ever session

◉ CW; weed, anxiety attacks

◉ A/n- I know I said I was gonna work on event requests, but this one just came in, and I was immediately inspired. I get to draw from my personal experience, too lol- and write for Vortex. It's a good day. Enjoy!

◉ Feat; Blitz, Moxxie, Beelzebub, Vortex

It was your first time experimenting with weed. It started out pretty well! But then, the room starts to spin, and you notice it's getting harder to breathe. Your eyes and mouth are dry, and you think.. maybe you've had a bit too much.

Blitz is observant about those he cares about, so when your eyes are red and your breathing becomes more shallow, he knows exactly what's happening. To help you sober up faster, Blitz encourages you to eat and drink whatever you can. Using his spare blankets, he wraps you up and guides you to the bed, where you can get more comfortable. The room is spinning, and your thoughts are racing, so Blitz turns on the TV as a distraction from any negative thoughts you're having. While this is something he's also experienced before, Blitz still has the audacity to make jokes about your lower tolerance, but it doesn't go on for too long. If you start to have a panic attack, Blitz won't be super helpful at first. He'll be overwhelmed and unsure how to comfort you, so he might snap a bit. Although he's not the best with verbal comfort, you can be sure he won't leave you alone.

Moxxie doesn't really smoke, so if you're participating, he's your designated sober person. While, of course, he's kinda awkward, he's much more well-versed in comforting his loved ones. As someone who has had his fair share of panic attacks, he realizes pretty quickly when you've had too much. Because of Moxxie's own anxiety, he overthinks and isn't great with verbal comfort, but he's all for acts of service and physical affection. He'll put a hand on your back to keep you grounded, have stim toys for distractions, and constantly offer to get you anything you need. The constant fussing might be overwhelming, though. One way Moxxie comforts himself is by listening to music, so he might pop on one of his playlists as background noise. Until he's sure you're safe and in a good headspace, Moxxie won't leave your side, and he'll do anything to make sure you're okay.

Beelzebub is probably the reason you over-indulged, to be completely honest. Love her, but her tolerance is way above everyone else's, and she doesn't factor that in when she's encouraging you to smoke. Since she can taste people's energy, she's the quickest to know when something is off. Bee has had her fair share of people going overboard at parties and knows how to help people come down from a bad high- food, water, and laughter. She's big on the whole 'laughter is the best medicine" thing, so she uses humor to try and help you feel better. She'd probably put on a rom-com or comedy show and sling an arm around your shoulders. Her focus on comedy doesn't make her attempts any less sincere. Sessions like this should be fun, and she wants you to have good memories, even if the experience wasn't perfect.

Vortex is a sweetheart but kind of oblivious. He's focused on having a good time- not that he's neglecting you. He just always assumes you're having a good time, too. He'll pick up if things are going wrong, but you'll have to verbalize exactly what's happening so he knows how to help. He's the kind to pull you somewhere quiet and help you focus on breathing. His voice is soft as he explains that experiences like this are totally normal and that you'll be okay. While Tex doesn't want to minimize what you're going through, he doesn't want you to get stuck focusing on the negative. Dude also for sure gives the best hugs. The perfect combination of gentle but grounding. Vortex loves parties, sessions, hang outs, etc- and is all about having a safe, good time with everyone. He assures you that despite all that's happening after you feel better, everything will be okay again.

── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──

[loveneversleepss]

Santa Tell Me (regular version)

Inspired by Ariana grandes song

Pairing: Lee Know x female reader

Genre: Established relationship, Christmas time, living with the members.

Warnings: none basically.. pretty pg-13 besides kissing, comedy tho 😁, clingy Lee know

W.C:

Naughty version here..

“Baby?” You wake up to Lee know nudging you awake softly, he places a kiss on your cheek. You groan softly as you turn over, head to his chest as you drift off back into sleep. “You have to wake up,” he caresses your cheek softly. Your head comes up against his chest as you let it softly pat against him. Your eyes slowly blink open, your head follows your eyes as you trail up to his face.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” you sigh heavily and push his face away. “Hey! You can’t be mean on Christmas..” he pouts as you sit up straight. “It’s not Christmas yet, it’s only Christmas Eve,” you rub your eyes and adjust to the morning brightness. You slouch your back and turn around to see Lee Know practically throwing a tantrum, hitting the pillow and burying his face into it. You tsk and look at the mirror in front of the bed, you attempt to untangle the rats nest your hair has become overnight with your hands.

“Did you sleep good at least,” he asks and you dramatically turn your head fast to him, giving him a death glare. “Yes, until someone woke me up,” you throw a pillow at him and he catches it. “Well sorryyyy, I missed my girlfriend,” he smiles cheekily at you but his charm doesn’t work on you so early in the mornings. “Don’t start, I’m half-awake..”

You hear a loud commotion coming from somewhere in the dorm, you turn to Lee know. “Guess the boys are up, come on. Time to get ready,” you drag your legs down off the edge of the bed and reluctantly take steps to the door. You open it to meet face to face with a frozen Felix, carrying plastic containers bigger than him. You raise your eyebrow and continue past him to the restroom, not your problem.

You stumble into the bathroom and begin your morning routine; washing your face, brushing your teeth, skincare, etc.. You decide after all you want to take a shower. You turn on the shower and begin to undress, just then, a knock at the door.. more like a bang actually. “OPEN, I NEED TO POOP!” Lee know pushes against the door, you roll your eyes and wrap a tower around you, not to conceal yourself from Lee know. But from the others who might pass by the door when you open it. You open it slightly and he storms in.

“You’re welcome,” you close the door and step into the shower. Dropping the towel behind you, you sigh as the hot water flows down your body. You hear a video playing from his phone, he does it so you can’t hear him doing his business. You hear the loud flush of the toilet and know he’s done, “you want me to join you?” You hear the facet running. Don’t get it wrong, you love showering with him. But the mornings are your time alone, your space to relax. “Um, maybe tomorrow?” He sighs and you hear the door shut.

You feel a little bad, you’ve been neglecting him all morning. You’ll make it up to him for Christmas. You finish up your shower and go into your shared bedroom to find clothes in the closet. In your towel, the cold air sends chills down your back. “Cold, baby?” He appears from behind you, his warm hands place on your shoulders. They drag down and wraps around your waist, his head lays on your shoulder. “Missed me?” You tease him and reach for clothes. “Mhm, a lot,” he turns you around and leans in for a kiss. You let him and give a small peck.

“Hyunggg,” an eager Jeongin knocks at the door. You smile and continue your task as Lee know stumbles to the door. You hear them whispering to each other but it doesn’t faze you as you dress in the closet. You walk out and see he’s getting ready too. In unusual outfit, like he’s going out to dinner or something.. “are you going somewhere?” You ask while drying the tips of your hair. “We.. we are going somewhere,” he walks to you, confusion written all over your face.

“Where are we going?” He kisses your cheek as his hands linger around your waist. “A small trip, the boys are going but.. it’s a better place than here. Way bigger,” he explains as he pulls his shoes on. “Dress more warm okay? I’ll wait for you in the living room. Oh, and we’re staying until tomorrow.” Great. You grab a set of pajamas and more clothes and stuff it into a bag. You begin to wonder where you’re going and what Lee Know has gotten you for Christmas. You pull some boots on and warmer clothes. Completing the look with a beanie and you’re ready.

“Ready,” you grab his hand as you wander into the living room. He grabs your bag and leads you outside. The boys come outside, nosy as ever, and load their belongings too. Everyone pairs up in threes, you, Lee know and Han, apparently he wanted to spend quality time with your boyfriend. Whatever that means.. the time it takes to get to the spot was about an hour. Lee know drove and you had fallen asleep for a couple minutes while Han and him were talking. You heard the keys jingle to shut off the car and he nudged you softly. The snow began to fall as soon as you got out the car.

Your eyes meet with a wooden cabin, surrounded by pine trees that stretch for miles. Very Christmasy and beautiful. He grabs a hold of your hand and walks inside with you. “How about you take this and go find a room for us, hmm?” He whispers into your ear then kisses your head. You listen as you observe your surroundings. “Y/n,” Chan calls you. “You guys can have the only room on this floor. It’s the nicest.” You smile, “thank you, how sweet.”

You walk into the room, the bed covered with white sheets like snow. A queen sized bed, enough room for 4 people. What catches your eye is a fireplace in front of the bed. A rug in front with a couch not far. A tv hangs from above the fireplace. Very cozy. You find it has a bathroom and walk in closet and set down your belongings. The room has a glass sliding door out into a balcony. You stand in front of it but don’t want the cold snow to get inside. “Ooo, this is niceee.” Lee Knows voice makes you smile. 

He closes the door and sets his beanie on the bed. He jumps onto the bed like the toddler he is while you go in front of the fireplace. “We can turn it on later if you want,” you turn to see him laying on one hand on his side. You nod your head, “I would like that.” He sits up, “come here.” You walk to the side of the bed, he pulls you on top of him. You get comfortable as your head rises and falls with his breathing. “It’s so nice here..” you whisper, you haven’t been to a place like this in a while. He rubs his hand down your back, soothing you.

“Shall we go see the tree they have?” You sit up quickly while nodding your head. You jump off the bed while he closely follows as you make your way back to the start. He holds your hand as you search for the main room. A tree almost 8 feet tall takes your breath away. There’s presents underneath as the members brought them. Your present to lee know and his to you. You didn’t realize the sun was already going down. The boys are what you assume is the kitchen, drinking wine and preparing for dinner.

The dinner was beautiful, the boys telling stories as they get sentimental a bit. Laughs and cheers were heard all that night. But you couldn’t wait for present opening time, it quickly turned midnight. You had gotten Lee know a trip with his parents to wherever they wanted. You figured they needed some quality time, while you got to babysit his cats 😈. He jumped into your arms as he thanked you for the gift. It was your turn to open the presents. It was a small box so you figured it was jewelry of some sort.

You pulled out a beautiful ring, nothing like you haven’t seen before. A promise ring, engraved with your initials and the date of your anniversary. You teared up a bit as you immediately put it on. You jumped into his arms as well and thanked him over and over again. The night was over and you made your way back into the room with him.

As he promised, he lit the fireplace and you two sat in front of it. He played soft music on the tv as you admired the fireplace. You laughed to yourself, “what’s so funny?” He asks you softly, you turn your head to look at him. “I’m just glad to be with you here,” you fidget with the ring he got you. He kisses you softly, but breaks away after a few seconds. Not wanting to ruin the moment with lust. But you know he respects your desire overall, he would if you wanted it. So you do the only thing you can think of.

You push him onto his back as you crawled into his lap, straddling him.. you lean down to kiss him, igniting your internal fires..

~~~ to be continued

Read naughty version here

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Anti-Romantic | TEASER | CHAPTER 3 OUT NOW!!

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!reader Genre: non idol au, fluff, smut, romcom, drama, opposites attract Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, dysfunctional relationships, taboo couples/relationship therapist and patient dynamic

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

As the most beloved dating coach in the sunny state of California, Hyunjin has dealt with all kinds of nightmares— from real desperate housewives and their indifferent husbands to toxic shotgun marriages doomed to fail— and he’s fixed them all. Dubbed the “Love Doctor,” Hyunjin has a PhD in both sociology and broken hearts. Every single day for Hyunjin ends the same: yet another flashy career success and to celebrate, sliding on his rose-tinted glasses and sipping on pink champagne, his perpetual poison.

That was all before you, of course.

For your entire life, you’ve been unlucky in love. From your endless unrequited high school crushes to your situationship who turned out to be gay, love has just never been in the cards for you. It’s all changed you from a hopeless romantic into a pessimist who doesn’t believe in true love. You now make fun of every couple you see, religiously watch wedding fails on Youtube, and absolutely hate romantic comedies. 

But no amount of lackluster girls’ nights or hours thrown into your crappy job can fill the hole in your heart. You’re absolutely lonely. In one last attempt to give love a chance, you ditch your Tinder dates and decide to turn to L.A.’s famous “Love Doctor,” this hotshot relationship therapist all of your friends rave about. 

Barrelling into Dr. Hwang’s office like a cyclone, you bring along your signature stormy attitude and want a remedy to your emotional dry spell, even though you still believe in your heart that counseling won’t work for you. You don’t expect, however, your new intimacy expert to be hotter than hell, definitely not a middle-aged woman ready to lecture you about putting out.

No, Dr. Hwang is more like the Grandmaster of love, the amorous warlock of the West Coast, and with the way he silently strips you with his bedroom eyes the moment you walk in, perhaps even the sex scholar of the Valley. As he slowly disarms your defenses, you do your best not to let him know of your inappropriate fantasies about him. But even worse than your impossibly vivid wet dreams, you’re falling in love with your fucking therapist. Or Hyunjin, as he so charmingly commands you to call him. 

And you try to keep your feelings for him at bay, you really do. But Hyunjin just doesn’t give up, relentlessly tugging at your mind and heart and taking up every quantum of your life. Because after all, the Love Doctor loves a good challenge.

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

TAGLIST @army-stay-noel, @hwangjuhong, @chizumiyoshi

📢 ©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

[soleilnomoon]

My friend, I heard it's the cool thing to leave things in your inbox and I want to be like the cool kids so here I am. How about a scenario with Kurosaki Ichigo trying to convince S/O to ask HIM out instead of him just doing the asking out himself? It can be whatever you want it to be: comedy, romance, fluff, smut. The choice is yours *finger guns*

sora... love of my life, light in my eyes, wind beneath my wings, etc. etc. etc. u have been so patient, and i'd apologize but u already know what kind of drama this fic put me thru!!! anyway!!! this was a labor of love (as always) yk i only ever want the best for u bbgorl 🥰️🥰️🥰️

5.9k words (DONT LOOK AT ME OMG), fem reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni; there's fluff i promise (who am i), angst bc why not, mutual pining, and smut; ichigo... is a dumbass, and i like seeing him suffer; i also like seeing reader suffer; a wild orihime appears! and some other miscreants. feat. cute things like: hair pulling, slight exhibitionism (shhh), oral (m receiving), dry humping, kIsSiNg, idk alcohol but a tiny bit; ichigo is down bad ok, idk what to tell u; reader is also down bad but she thinks she's being stealthy abt it. (if u see any typos/grammatical errors shhh no u didn't)

“imprison me in your name, let love kill me.” — mahmoud darwish

&

i love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly.” — simone de beauvoir

SUNDAY — 12:01 a.m.

in such a vast, mostly unexplored universe — where curses and wishes exist ubiquitously, teetering on opposite ends of a complicated spectrum of morality — there is one universal truth: love is a fucking battlefield. such is the woe of one kurosaki ichigo as he navigates through the various intricacies involved with such a strong emotion. if it was up to him, he wouldn’t suffer through it — but it’s not. his heart is incredibly foolish, his mind even more so; and despite what others might think, he’s not exactly as confident in his capabilities in romance. which is why he’s resorted to mapping out different ways to get you to do the work for him.

mostly because he can’t bear the agonizing feelings that come with vulnerability. so, rather than him ask you out, he’s attempting to get you to do it instead. inspiration strikes when he’s sitting at his desk after midnight, textbooks and notebooks strewn about, his studying long forgotten. ichigo spends an hour or so mulling over the hows and whys of everything, when a brilliant idea — or, series of brilliant ideas, rather — suddenly pops into his head. tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, he scribbles down his thoughts, as if he’s afraid they’ll leave him forever if he doesn’t find a way to hold onto them. by the time he finishes, his hand is covered in splotches of ink, but he’s satisfied with his work.

he’s not completely sure if it’ll all pan out the way he wants, but he’s willing to give it a shot.

MONDAY — 10:56 a.m

it’s out of pure coincidence that he runs into you at the convenience store. you’re in an aisle with items that are on sale — a mega sale, at that — perusing through the little tubes of lotion and hand sanitizer, admiring the cute designs on each bottle, contemplating how many to buy. he’s tall enough that he spots you before you see him — which takes a long damn time, if he’s honest — but as you busy yourself looking at different items on the shelves, he takes to watching you from afar.

there’s something frighteningly beautiful about the way you make simple things look graceful and magical. from the way you carefully drag your fingertip along the labels, admiring the designs, giggling at some cute artwork; to the way you tilt your head, confusion clouding your vision as you debate internally over which product to buy; to the way you decide to shove as many items into your basket as possible, face flushed at the impropriety of purchasing so many — but they’re on sale, so you justify your shopping before you head to the cashier.

the entire time you move around, you feel his eyes on you; while he might think he’s being stealthy, you’re very aware of his presence. and how could you not be? ichigo isn’t someone you can ignore — nor would you ever try to, he’s such a dynamic person, kind without realizing, stubborn and silly, and, more importantly, incredibly handsome. you think it’s cute how he slinks through each aisle to follow you carefully — dressed as inconspicuously as possible — ducking whenever you turn your face to try and catch him, except he’s so damn tall that he can’t really hide too well.

still, you let him continue playing his little game, and head to the register to check out. maybe he’ll eventually let you in on whatever it is he’s planning if you play along. but he never approaches you, doesn’t call after you when you leave the store, which only leaves disappointment and confusion to fester around your stomach. he curses under his breath as he watches you walk further and further away from him; he’d meant to say something, to call out to you earlier, but nerves got the best of him, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.                                                                                             

TUESDAY — 3:39 p.m.

the library is packed, students crammed into each seat and table along the first few floors. after the fiasco from yesterday, ichigo is that much more determined to make sure that things go according to plan today. again, it’s out of pure coincidence, that he’s also at the library around the same time you are. it’s almost instinctual, the way he spots you right away; he admires the shape of your calves, the way your skirt sits snugly around your wide hips, barely reaching the middle of your thick thighs.

it’s impossible for him not to watch you, not when you pause to look around the floor for an empty seat — teeth sinking into your bottom lip, lashes fluttering every time you blink. he knows how much you hate being in crowds of people, how your focus wanes if there’s too much noise around, and how you like to be away from any sort of distraction — you’re quite the dedicated student, he supposes.

so, it’s no surprise that you bypass the floor he’s on and scurry up the stairs, hand gliding up the wooden railing; an innocuous move that has him clench the pencil in his hand tight enough to crack it. he’s suddenly hit with the desire to be a damn railing — an odd, maddening feeling as absurd as it is debilitating. he almost doesn’t hear his name being called, but he does eventually look away and he’s intercepted by orihime and tatsuki. they implore him to sit with their group to study, much to his annoyance because you’ve left his sight and now he wants to go find you.

but he’ll deal need to deal with them, first.

ichigo reluctantly agrees — only after orihime gives him a sweet, yet pleading look, and tatsuki smirks and mouthing what now, almost as if she’s challenging him to defy their request — and plops down on an empty chair. his long legs knock into the neighboring chair and his complaints are ignored by his friends.

you struggle as you lug your heavy bag upstairs to the fourth floor; it’s eerie there, much too quiet, and for some reason people stay away from it. superstitions run rampant around campus about how everyone who studies on the fourth floor happens to fail every exam and assignment. you’re not one to believe in stupid shit like that, but you do say a quick prayer before settling down on one of the lone tables in the middle of the floor. despite being relatively empty, it’s well-kept and very tidy.

sunlight filters through the thick glass of the windows, illuminating the dated furniture and archaic books that litter the bookshelves nearby. it takes a few minutes, but you set up your textbooks and notes so you can review for your upcoming exam. ten minutes pass before you groan for the fifth time and place your face in your hands. you thought that studying by yourself would give you some distance from ichigo, but unfortunately, he’s been on your mind since yesterday. you chew on your thumbnail and consider your options; for whatever reason, he’s too dense to realize that you like him, but maybe you’ll need to be more forthcoming and upfront — maybe even dangle some bait to encourage him.

WEDNESDAY — 8:12 p.m.

after your first round of exams, you invite ichigo over to your apartment for a movie — a small, celebratory break in between midterms. your argument is sound — although, he would’ve agreed regardless — and he volunteers to come with plenty of snacks. all you can do is nod, you’re much too captivated by the shape of his jaw and with how his lips stretch into a smile. absolutely infuriating. all it does is make him radiate like some damn sun god, and you’re offended by it.

and for some reason, a small flutter in your chest causes you to inhale a sharply — thankfully you’re already on your way out of the lecture hall, walking swiftly in the hopes of permanently ridding yourself of whatever this is. you spend the next few hours obsessively scrubbing and organizing your apartment; by the time ichigo arrives, you’re physically exhausted. you miscalculated quite a bit, naively thinking that a bit of manual labor would cure you of your burdensome desire. but it doesn’t. if anything, you think about him even more. how will you survive with him alone with you during the night?

he's in a similar predicament, having spent the duration of his afternoon obsessively thinking about how best to deal with you — the situation was rather stressful, and while he could just sit down and talk with you honestly, it seemed more appropriate to approach things this way instead. he’s been to your place a handful of times, and he commits just a bit more to memory whenever he can. you’re a colorful person with plants hanging and stacked around cutely; you have an affinity for cooking and have artsy pieces scattered throughout your apartment. it fits you perfectly, and he likes how much more relaxed you are whenever you’re away from campus.

“you weren’t kidding when you said bring a lot of snacks,” you say, disrupting his thoughts, voice light and melodic. you eye the bags in his hands and offer to grab a few; ichigo frowns and lifts the bags away and over your head.

“they’re not heavy,” he says gruffly. he rolls his eyes while walking around you, legs carrying him quickly to the living room. if he didn’t give himself some space, your perfume would hold him hostage again; the last time he was this close, the scent of warm apples and sweet strawberries clung to his lungs with every inhale for at least a week. if he’s not careful, he’ll willingly fall into your trap all over again.

he places the bags on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, legs spread wide as he leans back. he appreciates how comfortable it is — with cushions soft enough to easily lull him to sleep. he fights it, of course, especially when you sit down next to him, thigh casually pressed against his. you don’t seem as bothered about this as he is, and when you cross one shapely leg over the other, he covertly adjusts himself while you’re preoccupied with the tv, leisurely scrolling through the options with the remote.

if he has to pinpoint what to blame, specifically, he’ll say it’s your exposed shoulders and flimsy shorts, your round breasts that stretch out your shirt, and your continued insistence on not wearing a bra whenever you’re alone with him.

he swallows hard and reaches down for one of the water bottles he brought along with the snacks; in the middle of him chugging half of the bottle, you place a hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze. he chokes and coughs a bit, hand clutching the bottle harder than he means to, making the remaining liquid shoot out and splash onto your arm and shirt. a deep flush crawls onto his face and ears as he mumbles an apology; you press your lips together, but barely contain your laughter.

“ichigo, what the hell was that?” you’re grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. he turns his face and wipes some water from his chin with the back of his hand. “it’s not a big deal, really.” and it isn’t. honestly. you finally pick a movie — something gory and full of suspense — and settle back next to him, body pressed closely to his. the water didn’t help, and your hand is back on his thigh, stroking up and down. you’re not sure what possesses you to do it, but the compulsion hit you hard the moment you saw him sitting on your couch. it’s a pet peeve of yours whenever people take up that much space — the habit is obnoxious and selfish — but since he looks so damn good doing it, you give him an eternal pass.

even through the denim of his jeans, he can feel the heat radiating off of your hand, especially when you brush against his bulge, making his erection that much more painful. his cock is thick and heavy, precum drips through his underwear as he clenches his jaw and inhales through his nostrils. you watch him through your lashes and rub your hand up and down his stiff length. his eyes track your movements, the way your tongue darts out and briefly runs along your lips; he’s sure he could cum just by watching you do that over and over again.

maybe he needs help, or maybe he needs to investigate your lips and tongue properly.

as if commanded by an invisible puppeteer, you lean closer and place a hand on his chest; if there was ever a moment for ichigo to act impulsively, it’s now. he tangles his fingers in your dark curls, firmly gripping, tugging you towards him. he slants his lips against yours, tongue licking inside your mouth, caressing your tongue, bringing a heat through your body, an inferno that won’t ever be satisfied. you climb onto his lap, chest heaving, mumbling nonsense like “what took you so long,” and “stop teasing me, please”, kisses growing sloppy and urgent.

whatever sliver of restraint he has vanishes completely once you grind your hips against his, that familiar ache swirling around your abdomen casts a haze over your mind, making your logic nonexistent. his hands settle on your hips, gripping them hard enough to make you gasp and whine, arousal slipping between your folds and dampening your panties. you roll your hips, slowly at first but picking up the pace when ichigo brings a hand to your ass and slaps it. the sting has you jutting your hips forward, pussy bucking against his clothed cock, moaning pathetically against his lips.

if this is a dream, please don’t wake him; there’s a low pounding in his ears, and he takes a moment to admire the curve of your round ass, cupping it playfully. your nails sink into his shoulders, and he hisses while littering kisses along your jaw and down your throat. you bite down on your lip, stifling another moan. the movie long forgotten, you let out a small squeal when he sucks on your skin — teeth and tongue marking you, goosebumps pricking your arms and legs. you know there’ll be a bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care; he can leave as many marks as he likes.

you almost tell him as much, mouth opening, words stumbling over one another. “ichigo, i—”

several loud knocks on your door — accompanied by the terribly obnoxious ringing from your doorbell — has you scrambling off of his lap, face flushed and warm. you practically sprint towards the door, although you pause to catch your breath and fix your clothes a bit. ichigo lets out a frustrated groan, arousal pummeling into him, making it hard to think straight. he hadn’t planned on moving from his spot on the couch, but when he hears multiple voices coming from the front door, cowardice wins out and he hides in your bathroom. it takes five minutes for his cock to settle down, but when he goes to join you in the living room again, several of your friends are eating and lounging around on the floor and couch.

ever the gracious host, you’re pouring drinks for everyone, only pausing when you catch ichigo watching you. already your voice is an octave too high, your panties are clinging to your pussy, damp from your slick arousal. you do your best to not make large movements, preferring to keep your thighs as close together as possible.

annoyance pricks along the back of his neck as keigo clinks shot glasses with mizuiro; he didn’t think that telling them about his plans with you would lead to everyone else showing up too. now there are plans of ordering pizza and wings, of playing drinking games. and naturally tatsuki volunteers ichigo to go pick the food up. he shoots you an apologetic look, one that you wave away noncommittally. you know it’s not really his fault, his friends are just like that. still, you make sure to keep your hair down to obscure the various marks on your skin. you frown a bit when ichigo leaves but fix your features when orihime bounces over to you.

with a tilt of her head, eyes wide and bright, clear and strangely critical, she asks, “what’s wrong?” you know she means well, but you’d rather not discuss the fact that you were seconds away from pulling ichigo’s cock out and riding him until your pussy gave out when they all decided to come over.

“hm?” you try to clear your mind and adopt a friendly smile, “nothing’s wrong, just a little tired.” it’s true, though; you really are tired. all that studying, all that obsessing, it’s bound to make a girl exhausted. you can tell that she wants to press the issue, but in typical orihime fashion, she smiles and leaves it at that. the noisiness only serves to sober you up, but you doubt you’ll be able to sate the desire that steadily keeps building inside of you.

THURSDAY — 1:43 p.m.

tatsuki drags you and orihime to the gym, claiming that running is good for the soul — or something to that effect. you vaguely remember promising her last night, after downing one too many shots of whiskey, that you’d gladly accompany her to work out. your head throbs, your hangover a reoccurring nightmare, one that seems to follow you around all day. you try weaseling out, try to flake, but tatsuki is determined and stubborn as hell. you both admire and despise her for it right now.

you take it easy and stretch with the girls, before heading towards the treadmills. what some might consider benevolence on the universe’s part, ichigo considers cruelty; case in point, the fact that you’re here in the gym, when he knows for a fact that you’re not the exercising type — you’ve blurted this out more times than he can count, which is why he remembers. he drops from the pull up bar and grabs his towel to wipe his face, chest constricting, breathing ragged at the sight of you.

in the back of his mind, he understands that your attire is practical, he’s also quickly aroused by it; your leggings cling to your legs, highlighting your curves, stretching tight around your ass. your tank top flowing, your breasts almost spilling out of your sports bra, it was too much for him to handle at once. incidentally, you feel that ichigo working out shirtless should be illegal; your throat dries as your eyes travel along his broad chest, a ravenous hunger taking hold of your senses, that bothersome ache returning as you press your thighs together. you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking to watch him, muscles firm and thick, sweat clinging to his skin.

tatsuki calls your name repeatedly, and you have to remind yourself that you’re here to exercise and not gawk. it’s then that it dawns on you, your brain will never function properly around him — now that you’ve felt him, you lack focus. his sweatpants sit low on his hips, causing you to actually lose your damn balance; it’s partially comical, but mostly pathetic when you trip over your feet and helplessly fall onto the floor. your hands ball into fists, fingers curled inward, nails leaving tiny indents into your palms. you barely feel it, though, you’re too busy trying to regulate your breathing.

“y/n are you okay?” orihime rushes to help you stand back up; your face burns and you know that if you don’t put some distance between you and ichigo quickly, you’ll end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“yep, just peachy!” the lie is flimsy and you know that she doesn’t buy it, but you’re sticking with it. the truth is just too pitiful. ichigo frowns, fingers twitching as he grips the bar harder. you’re normally not that clumsy, and he’s half tempted to go and see if you’re okay. but the girls crowd you and he knows he’ll only make things worse if he interferes. you finally find a treadmill and even though you should probably stay off of it, you decide to use it anyway. you set a decent speed and fix the incline, opting to jog until your legs give out. if you suffer one more transgression, you’ll never be able to face ichigo again. already you feel that familiar burning sensation in your thighs, but you don’t stop; you’re not sure how long you keep at it, but ichigo is long gone when your body has finally had enough.

you drink some water and try to catch your breath. your mind is buzzing; you wish it was ichigo who helped you up instead. it’s a strange thing to be disappointed about, but you can’t stop imagining his strong arms wrapped around your soft waist. a lightheaded feeling takes over, you’re not sure how much more you can take; you’re barely surviving as is with minimal interactions with him.

he heads straight for the locker room as soon as he’s done with his last rep; no amount of cold water from the shower can snap him out of the daze you put him in. everything about you is dizzying, and just remembering how your lips and hands were on him, how soft your ass was, how he was so close to sinking his cock into your pussy the night before, makes his cock hard all over again. he has enough sense to ignore it, but he saw you jogging and nearly fell off the pull up bar. you’re dangerous, that much is certain; he’s never been this captivated by a person, so it’s almost as if he’s navigating through new territory.

“fucking ridiculous,” he says bitterly and turns off the shower so he can get dressed. he knows what he needs to do, he just needs everyone in his life to stop interfering so he can properly talk with you alone.

FRIDAY — 6:15 p.m.

for whatever reason, his friends conspire together and decide to do dinner at orihime’s house. rukia and tatsuki both shoo orihime out of the kitchen, not wanting to deal with whatever strange concoction her impulses come up with. it’s meant to be a casual affair, which he reminds you again when he stops by your apartment to pick you up. ichigo raids your fridge for something to munch on while he waits, and after fifteen minutes, he makes his way down the narrow hallway to your room. the door is open, so he assumes you must be all done, walking in without announcing himself properly.

there are several outfits strewn about on your bed; after the fourth one, you huff and stomp around your room, the carpet soft underneath your feet as you try to reason with yourself. it’s really because you’re nervous that ichigo asked you to go with him — as his date. or, at least, you’re sure that’s what he meant by inviting you to the dinner. you told ichigo you wouldn’t take long, but that was clearly a lie — not an intentional one, but a lie nonetheless.

“are you still not done?” he pauses, eyes landing on your half naked body; he gets hard instantly at the sight of your soft stomach and thick thighs. you’re too focused on your current crisis that you barely register that he’s in your room as you head back into the closet to look for another dress. if he had better morals and sense, he’d leave you to get dressed at your own pace; but, unfortunately for him, his body is the worst kind of traitor. this has been the longest week of his entire life, but he’s thankful that he has you to himself again.

you put on a new dress and flip your hair over your shoulder. “help me, please.” because your arms are still sore from working out and you figure there’s no harm in asking for his assistance. his heart lodges itself in the base of his throat, hands shaking a bit — nerves or excitement, he’s not sure — but he manages to tug the small zipper up without much issue. his hands linger on your hips, cock stiff as it angrily presses against the front of his pants.

suddenly, you’re very, very aware of how close he’s standing.

he knows that if he doesn’t let go of you, he’ll feel inclined to skip the dinner altogether. but he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of flaking, so he decides against it. he does, however, brush his lips along the side of your neck, leaving behind a trail of slow kisses. you’re teetering over the edge, falling further under his spell as his hands roam along your body, roughly kneading your breasts over the fabric of your dress.

you test the proverbial waters and rub your ass against his bulge, which prompts him to bite your neck in warning. you let out a small yelp and softly moan his name; you end up losing more of your composure when he turns you around and kisses you. his appetite is insatiable, his kisses feverish and demanding, a frenzied whirlwind that has you unbuckling his pants and tugging his zipper down to pull out his cock.

his imagination will never compare — your hands are still soft as ever, even as they grip him eagerly, twisting while pumping up and down his length. he hisses when you rub your thumb against the tip and kisses you ardently, tongue brazen as it swirls around yours before sucking on it. you rub your thighs together, breathing unevenly, his kisses scalding and potent. you pry yourself away from him and sink to your knees, tongue running flat against his length, circling around his thick head of his cock and licking the precum that seeps out of his slit.

ichigo’s moans echo in your room, bouncing off the walls, prompting you to open your mouth so you can take in as much of him as you can. he presses a fist to his mouth when you start bobbing your head, cheeks hollowed, mouth hot and tight; you caress his balls with your free hand, enjoying the way his cheeks are flushed and the way he licks his lips while looking down at you. he doesn’t think when he grabs your head and starts fucking your mouth and doesn’t think when you hold onto his thighs and relax your jaw to accommodate for his girth.

 you can’t lie, you’ve been dreaming about this for longer than you care to admit — it’s almost embarrassing how badly you’ve wanted to have his cock in your mouth, but you never imagined that ichigo would be like this; rough, clumsy, but every bit as tantalizing as ever. you let him have his way, using your mouth and throat as he thrusts his cock deeper. you gag but maintain eye contact, tears streaming down your cheeks at the ferocity of his thrusts.

you know something must be wrong with you because your panties are soaked, the ache building from deep inside, bubbling and pushing you closer to the edge. you like this side of him, the one that’s a little unhinged and feral, a man possessed with a certain goal on his mind. he knows he should be a bit gentler, but the way you’re looking at him, like you’re more than pleased with how he’s handling you, convinces him otherwise.

“fuck,” he pants, breath coming out in shallow puffs. his phone rings, startling both of you; he wants to ignore it but has a feeling that it’s one of his friends asking for his whereabouts. he pulls out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. he has so many things that he wants to say to you, but none of them come to mind. you’re not ready for any of this to end, so you motion for him to pick up the phone and stroke his cock again.

he hesitates only for a moment, but you have a mischievous look on your face, and he knows better than to test your patience right now. “w-what is it?” he asks when he answers the phone, voice low and husky, a shiver sliding down your spine when you suck on the head of his cock. he clamps his mouth shut in the hopes of keeping as quiet as possible, but mizuiro sounds so concerned and keeps asking why he’s giving him one- or two-word responses. however, ichigo’s desire to fuck you is greater than his guilt; besides, he realizes, belatedly, that you want someone to catch him like this.

it's hot, he won’t lie. and he’d indulge you more, but with the way you’re stroking and sucking his cock, he doubts he’ll be able to tolerate a full conversation with mizuiro — especially as he drones on about how imperative it is for ichigo to keep his promises.

blah, blah, blah.

he cuts the conversation short, tossing the phone onto the floor behind him. he grabs onto your arm, hauls you to your feet, and his mouth is on yours again. orihime’s dinner party is the last thing on both of your minds, not when he leaves you breathless, kissing you until your lips are swollen, lipstick smeared. his hands are on the move again as he tugs your dress off of you, mouth placing messy kisses down your chest, teeth tugging on your hardened nipples before sucking on them. it’s impossible to keep steady when each ichigo’s mouth is ruining your life in the best way possible.

your arousal clings to the inner parts of your thighs, you’re practically begging him to fuck you, words barely coherent as you fuss at him, but he understands you just fine. after pulling the rest of his clothes off, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the wall. if he were a better man, he’d have the courtesy to fuck you on your bed; but he isn’t thinking properly, and he’s tired of playing around. he snakes a hand lower, fingers rubbing your pussy, dragging needy whimpers out of you.

“ichigo, damn it,” your frustration is cute and he can’t help but continue to tease you. he slides his fingers into your tight, needy hole, fingers sinking deeply without much resistance.

“you’re so wet, i don’t think i need to prep you at all.” he’s impressed, actually and likes how your pussy keeps sucking his fingers back in every time he pulls them back. you buck your hips against his hand, and if it wasn’t for his arm holding you securely, you’d fall over with ease.

you can barely look at him, cheeks permanently flushed as you moan loudly for him. “that’s it,” he coaches, thumb circling around your clit, fingers scissoring roughly, “you want me to fuck you that badly?”

your eyes grow wide but you nod and breathe out a, “yes. i’ve been waiting for so damn long.” the confession surprises him, as he was under the impression that he was the only one who suffered the entire time. and, because his cock is running the show, he plucks his fingers out of you, lines his tip with your entrance and slams his cock inside. you claw at the back of his neck and all along his chest, legs trembling as his hips knock against yours roughly. nothing could prepare him for the way your plush, gummy walls suffocate him — wet and warm, a snug fit that he’ll never tire of.

you move your hips in tandem with his, matching the timing of his thrusts, as you press sloppy kisses along his jaw, nails raking down his broad back. ichigo’s hips rock forward, cock burrowing deeper with each stroke. both of you are at your limits, he knows he won’t last much longer, but he’ll try his best anyway. his pace quickens, your pussy making lewd, squelching noises, your wetness coating his cock prettily. your breasts bounce as he fucks you harder, your voice growing hoarse from how loud you are, enticing him to pound into you wildly.

he licks the base of your throat, groaning against your skin when you roll your hips, cunt full as his cock is buried to the hilt; his tip hits a spot that makes you hold onto him tighter, breathing shallow as you call out his name. he commits the moment to memory — something to look back on late at night — thoroughly enjoying how you’re writhing underneath him. he angles his hips, keeps them closer to yours, bucking against you recklessly — his cock bringing about an incurable madness that takes over your entire being.

maybe it’s because you’ve been denying yourself for so long — or maybe it’s because you’ve been teasing one another all week — but you feel as if a bit of weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. his balls are heavy, each slap against your ass makes you clench around him more. he rubs your clit, firm small circles that send tiny jolts throughout your body. your back arches as your walls spasm, fluttering around his cock, hips stuttering under his powerful thrusts. the orgasm leaves you dazed, eyes rolling back, your cunt puffy but greedy as it milks him shamelessly.

he never pegged you for a squirter, yet you keep defying his expectations. you want to bury your head underground for eternity, hating the way your orgasm has you incapacitated, slumping over him while your wetness spills onto your carpet.

ichigo keeps fucking you until his hips jerk, rhythm disrupted, cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you. he humps you lazily and you pepper his face with wet kisses, his heart leaping out of his chest as your fingers sift through his hair. both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but when you look up at him, something close to adoration flits across his face. you’re not sure if that’s a post-orgasm sort of thing, but you’ll take it for what it is.

you brush your lips against his, gently kissing him, and ask if he still wants to go to dinner. ichigo shoots you an incredulous look and you laugh in response. “okay, okay,” you pat his chest gently, “boyfriends shouldn’t look at their girlfriends like that.” you say it casually enough that it feels like a joke, but you’re too damn nervous to look at him to see his reaction.

his ears grow hot and he presses his lips together for a moment before mumbling a, “sorry, won’t happen again.” you pinch his cheek and playfully lick at his lips. a warmth travels to your chest, nestles into the crevices that line the inside of your heart, and makes you want to kiss him all over again. he takes that as a sign of forgiveness — although he isn’t actually sure if you meant it or not — and carries you over to your bed. while he initially set out to get you to confess first, somewhere along the way, his mission fell apart. still, he can’t say he’s unhappy about the outcome. and, sure, his friends might give him an earful for missing out on dinner, but he’s much more content and comfortable being with you right now to care.

[shygirl4991]

Beeg Fatherhood

Summary: SMG4 is new to this parent business, so when Beeg acts out whats a father to do? Did this fic for @alianarepasa since she wanted to see more papa SMG4 Tags: Family fluff, Comedy, friendship, first time parent, slight angst

SMG4 slowly gets up and smiles at Beeg SMG4, getting out of bed slowly so as not to wake him up as he starts the day. He freshens up then goes to the kitchen to make him and Beeg food, he hums to himself not noticing the small meme walking into the room. Four jumps when he hears a loud “eugh!” he turns, giving a bright smile to his son “Perfect timing, breakfast is served!” 

Beeg hops up on his seat excited to eat, Four drops a small stack of pancakes for his son while he gets the bigger stack. SMG4 was about to dig in when his pancakes vanished, he blinked and turned to the meme child next to him. Beeg’s face was covered in syrup and seemed pleased with stealing his fathers pancakes, Four sighs as he takes the smaller plate “Well a growing boy has to eat!”

Later in the day SMG4 was editing a video with Beeg sitting on his lap “See beeg when you click here the characters move, would you like to try making your own video?

Beeg stares at his father then the keyboard “Eugh!” he jumps off his father to go play alone, SMG4 sighs as he continues editing his video. After an hour Four decides it was a good time to take a walk, as he leaves the room Beeg slowly turns to the computer and starts smacking the keyboard. Beeg wanted to try his hand at editing without his father telling him what to do, turns out that wasn't the best idea as he deleted his fathers current project trying to make an animation. 

SMG4 walks in and sees Beeg smacking the keyboard “BEEG STOP!” He plucks the meme child off the desk to see his hours of hard work gone, his eye slightly twitches “It’s okay i can do it all over again, you just wanted to play!” 

He put Beeg on the bed as he sits back at his desk to recreate the video he was doing, Beeg frowns seeing his father delete what he was doing. Upset he jumps off the bed and leaves the room, as he wanders the castle he remembers his dad recently bought ice cream. He sprints into the kitchen ready to steal the icy treat, he pushes his chair close to the counter and hops up his meme made stairs. He was close to the goal, he started throwing objects around trying to find something to reach the freezer. 

Hearing the noise SMG4 runs out of the room in a panic, there he saw the meme child hanging on the fridge door struggling to open it. He plucks Beeg causing the meme to start screaming, he sighs as he puts beeg on the floor “Beeg what has gotten into you, no sweets this early!”

The screaming only got louder, Four covered his ears trying to think on how to stop the screaming. Giving in, he gives ice cream to Beeg who is now humming in joy, he takes a deep breath to relax his nerve “Everyone deserves a snack!” He had this parent thing in the bag, he washes the plate and notices that Beeg got himself dirty. Nervously he approaches Beeg “Hey Beeg i have something to show you, trust me you're gonna love it!” excited he follows his father.

Once in the bathroom Beeg notices his father locking the door, he looks around the room slowly realizing what was going to happen. “Okay now Beeg we'll take a quick bath then you can play all day!” Hearing the word bath freaked Beeg out running around breaking things, SMG4 grabs Beeg tossing him in the tub causing a huge splash of water getting not only Beeg wet but SMG4 also. He groans doing his best to ignore how soaked he is to bathe Beeg, the moment he starts cleaning Beeg up he starts to vibrate launching himself away from Four.  He growls as he attempts to capture the meme child only to end up in the bath with him, Beeg stares at his father confused. Seeing this he took it as his chance, he grabs Beeg and scrubs him clean. 

Finally getting Beeg clean he gets a towel to dry up the meme child before deciding he now needed a shower himself. He opens the door to gently let out his kids, seeing he was alone again Beeg went to the bedroom to mess with the computer. He climbs on the desk annoyed that another project was in the way he deleted the video again, pleased with a new save file he starts his best to copy what his father showed him. SMG4 hums to himself as he finishes his bath to see Beeg yet again smacking the keyboard, he drops the towel shaking his head. He lifts Beeg and puts him on the chair “Eugh!” Four turns fully upset “BEEG I HAVE TO UPLOAD TODAY! Ugh I don't know what to do with you!” he starts to walk away before Beeg screams “Eugh! Eugh!”

“I’m the one ruining your project?! WHAT YOUR DOING ISN’T IMPORTANT LIKE MY WORK!” Four covers his mouth, surprised from the burst of anger. Beeg stares at his father in shock before jumping off the chair and leaving the room. SMG4 reaches out to his son, Beeg turns “EUGH!” smacks Four hand and runs off. SMG4 felt horrible and had no idea what to do. He sits on the bed about to cry when his phone vibrates, he picks up his phone to see his wallpaper of him and his crew. His eyes land on SMG3 hugging Eggdog on the phone, an idea comes to him as he dials for the only other person that can help him. 

“Hello SMG3 Coffee n Bombs, how can I help you?” Hearing the man's voice made SMG4 break down crying “SMG3IHURTBEEGFEELINGSANDITHINKHEHATESME!”

There was silence before the other man spoke “Could you repeat that for those reading?” SMG4 takes a deep breath “SMG3…i hurt Beeg feelings and..i think he hates me!”  he hears a long sigh. Then he can hear the front door of the cafe open then closed. “I doubt Beeg hates you, I mean sure he shoots you with rocket launchers and tends to set your hair on fire when you take his candy’s away…er he loves you in his way.” SMG4 sniffs as he stares at the door of his room.  

Noticing the other man was still upset he starts to think of advice to give him “You know a few years ago Terrence was a wild card, heh he would bite me and set my shit on fire. I had to learn how to make clothes by hand if I wanted to survive him. Then one day he started to act differently, he was reading more and doing strange projects outside.” Three could feel himself about to cry from the memory, letting out a shaky breath he continues “Turns out he wanted to make a rocket for me so i can use it to get rid of you…he wanted to express his love for me, god how dumb was i to not see it back then…maybe that strange orb of yours is telling you something.” 

SMG4 slowly turns to his computer and looks at the animation on the program. It was clunky but the animation showed a tall figure picking up and hugging a smaller figure. He gasps realizing Beeg was trying to make a gift for him “I gotta go thanks!” He hangs up running to find his child. 

He looks in the game room and sees Beeg looking at a photo album, the pictures he was looking at were from the trip to his first water park. He hated the water but loved all the attention his father gave him,  Beeg sniffs feeling himself about to cry as he looks at more photos. The next group of photos was new years. Beeg was surprised when his father gave him a kiss on his head and told him he loved him. The memories made the meme child feel warm, he then turned the page to find more photos. 

He squeaks when he is suddenly lifted into the air “Eugh!” He then starts relaxing, noticing the scent of his father. SMG4 starts crying again “I know I'm not dad of the year, but I'm so sorry I never noticed you were acting out for my attention.” Beeg hugs his fathers arms enjoying the attention, then SMG4 carries him to the gaming couch “To make it up how about we play some games?” Beeg cheers, picking up a controller and sitting on his fathers lap excitedly. Being a father was harder than he thought but he was learning and he hopes one day he can be a great father to the meme child on his lap. 

Cover Art done by alianarepasa

[imaginesbymonika]

Bleeding out.

Pairing: Ed Mercer x fem!Reader

Plot: Ed says something stupid, that's it.

Warning: mentions of someone getting shot, a bit of angst but mainly fluff, comedy, Gordon being Gordon

A/N: I don't see anyone write for them, so I am going to do that!

“She’s okay.”, Kelly, who is standing a couple of meters away from her ex-husband watches his hectic movements closely:”Isn’t that what matters?” Her eyes follow him, as he walks from one side of the room to the other in what appears to be a circle: „God. Ed! Will you please calm down!”

At that, he rapidly spins around:”Calm do-.”, he lets out: ”I was supposed to be the one in there right now, not her! Kelly, that weapon was pointed straight at me.” Gordon wants to add something but is quickly cut off when the doors to one of the treatment rooms opens up. He only nods his head towards its direction and Ed instantly storms past the nurses into the room.

“Were you completely out of your mind?!”, Ed doesn’t ask her. It sounds more like an accusation. His nostrils are flaring while he clenches his fist. Meanwhile Y/N who is putting on her shoes only rolls her eyes at her captain’s behavior. But once they land on Kelly and Gordon a find smile emerges on her lips.

"Are you even listening to me?!"

“Yeah, believe it or not… I am.” He tilts his head. “But I am not going to apologize for what I did.”, Y/N shakes her head and attempts to stand up from the table. However when the pain in her leg strikes through her body like a bolt of lightning she lets out a thick groan. But before her body collapses Ed quickly moves forward to grab her by her arms: ”Please. Take it easy.”, he mumbles. He really wants to sound tough and intimidating, but the concern is lying thickly on top of his words. He sighs: ”Let’s just get you out of here, okay?”

“Wait, wait, wait. My jacket.”

“Malloy!”, Ed declares loudly before walking his friend towards the exit. Gordon blinks and glances at Kelly in disbelief: ”Seri- Seriously? What am I? A servant?” “Just take it!”, Kelly simply answers, before handing him the blue fabric:”Do it for Y/N.” The blonde woman watches how he softly whines before ultimately snatching it out of her hands. “Yeah, yeah.”

——

“So…do you think that he will tell her?” Kelly asks, while she sits down on the opposite side of the Helmsman in the cafeteria.

“What are you talking about?”, Alara, who is taking a sip of her drink furrows her forehead at the question. Gordon leans back in his chair:”That our captain is madly in love with Y/N?”, he scoffs and wipes his mouth:”I highly doubt it. His pride won’t allow it.” At the sound of two familiar voices approaching he quickly turns his head to the left: ”Would you look at that.“

Y/N who is walking toward their table smiles widely once her eyes fall on her jacket:" Oh my! Thank you so much, Gordon." She instantly puts it back on before turning to Ed, who has sat down next to Alara. He is aimlessly poking around his food with a fork. "How do you feel?", Kelly asks, giving her friend a compassionate smile. Y/N's gaze remains on Ed for a few seconds longer than probably necessary before she looks to the blonde woman:" No, yeah. I'm fine."

"Yeah, right.", Ed scoffs, and brings his fork up to his mouth. "The captain is right, Y/N. You should get some rest, and try not to get shot again. You're lucky that the bullet only hit your leg. Next time, it-." And as if Ed got punched straight into the face he looks at Gordon in pure revulson:" Next time? No, no, no. There is not going to be a next time." He turns to stare at Y/N:" Promise me right now, that you are never ever going to jump in front of me or anyone ever again."

The young woman chuckles and brings her cup of coffee up to her lips:" Yeah, right." Her voice is dry as she sits down. However when she makes eye contact with Ed again she blinks in surprise:" Oh, you were serious about that."

"Of course I am serious about that, promise me." "No, I am not going to promise you that!"

Kelly and Gordon exchange a quick look. "I will not have this conversation again!", Y/N shakes her head before quickly getting up again from her spot at the table. "Are you serious?!", Ed's voice gets more high-pitched with each passing second, and he clears his throat when he realizes how almost everyone around them is watching them. „Whatever.“, Y/N only says and walks away.

——

"You could have died! Don't you get that?!", Ed asks Y/N as he follows her down the long corridor. For the last weeks, he has done nothing but that: follow Y/N around the ship and (unsuccessfully) ask her over and over again to promise him to not put herself in harm's way ever again.

Isaac and John both turn around at the sound of their voices. "I do get that, God!", Y/N responds, annoyance clear in her voice:" Now, please stop asking me that!" "Promise me, and I am off your back for good!“

"I can feel a certain tension.", Isaac states, observing the bickering friends. "Y/N got shot because she jumped in front of the captain and now he tries to make her pledge to him, that she won't do that again.", John clarifies, and Isaac nods in understanding. "I mean, to be fair, you couldn't promise that either." "What was that?", Ed blinks and slightly tilts his head.

Y/N sits down on her chair and begins to type something into the computer:" Are you actually trying to tell me, that if I was being shot you could just watch that without wanting to interfere in any way?" A chuckle leaves her lips, almost as if she knows his response. Ed rolls his eyes:" There are a million ways to prevent that from happening without me having to jump in front of the weapon!"

The young woman swirls around in her chair:" Okay, imagine this: it's you, me, and a krill with a blaster. There is no way you can save me without sacrificing yourself. You tell me, that you could stop yourself from-." "Of course, I could!"

Y/N stares at him, while her confident smile quickly fades away: "W-What?" She closes her mouth and swallows thickly, before rapidly standing up again. "No, wait. I-.", but before any actual apology can leave his lips, Y/N has already walked out of the room.

——

"You said what?", Kelly almost chokes on her drink. "I didn't mean it.", Ed says, while rubbing the bridge of his nose: „Obviously." Gordon, who puts his knife down only shakes his head:" Tell that to her, not us. She's the one who will be left behind to bleed out, should you two ever get attacked by a member of the Krill."

"I never said anything about letting her bleed out, Gordon.", Ed stares at him in irritation: „Gordon, I-." "But he's right.", Kelly cuts him off, managing to draw Ed's attention towards her. He sighs:" I want to, but she won't talk to me."

---

"Y/N, please."

Gordon and John both turn around. Kelly who is standing near Claire and Isaac quickly makes her way over to join her two friends at the bar. Y/N's leg seems to be entirely healed and the captain struggles to keep up with her:" I am so sorry, but you know I didn't mean what I said." "Oh really?", she unexpectedly stops walking and turns around, which makes Ed nearly bump into her: "Because you answered my question super fast."

Ed opens his mouth to respond, but when no words leave his lips he closes it again. He looks defeated and tired. Y/N clenches her jaw. However, when she notices how the others are watching them from the others side of the room she walks over to them. A shiver runs down Gordon's spine at the sight of her forced smile. "Well that's creepy.", John simply whispers. "How are you, guys.", Y/N states and sits down next to him on the empty bar stool:" My friends. Who actually care about me."

Ed runs a hand down his face:" I was just trying to protect you!" "Yeah, right.", the y/h/c haired woman lets out a high pitched fake laugh:" I do not need protection, after all I am not a child!" She turns the chair around to fully face him again:" And by the way, saying that you would let me bleed out is really not a nice thing to say, now is it."

"For the record, I am just worried about you, we- wait did you just say 'bleed out' ?", He looks past her towards the other men:" Gordon, did you tell her that? I swear to-."

"You two, will you please stop this nonsense?!“, Clair declares, her voice loud and stern:" This has been going on for over two weeks now and it is exhausting for everyone on this ship! Y/N can't you see that Captain Mercer is doing all of this because he is clearly in love with you? And Ed, didn’t you realize by now that Y/N only jumped in front of you because she is in love with you as well?"

Ed who has his index finger still near Y/N's face gradually lowers his hand, while Y/N's jaw drops. She watches in silence how all her friends leave the bar, and for a few moments, neither of them says anything before Y/N finally looks at Ed again, who clears his throat.

"Are you-." "Are you-." "I mean, yes-." "Yeah, I-."

Y/N raises her hand:" Wait, you go first." Ed sits down next to her:" Listen, I- I care about you, okay? That's why I got scared. If you somehow die while protecting me, I- I don't know how to survive that." Y/N sighs as her facial features soften. She looks down and takes his hand in hers:" Well, for what it's worth I care about you too." And without waiting for a second longer, Ed pulls her into a soft kiss. "After everything that has happened, it would be embarrassing now if you didn't."

"I still won't promise you that." "I figured that you would say that.", he answers, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear:" Guess, I will have to look out for you a bit more." "Yeah… I guess so."

[calpalsworld]

I never talked about my interpretation of Misako but she was so cool and basically a completely different character.

I wanted her debut to be shocking when I got to it in my fan comic, but that might be a long time until then, soooo...

information about her under the cut...

Appearance: She is 6 and a half feet tall with a revealing outfit, chi-powered nexo armor on her arms and legs, scars, a shield, a gun, and sun glasses. Backstory: She is 600 years old and first became fascinated with researching realm travel so she could meet with Garmadon in the Underworld. One day, she meant to go on a week long inter-realm adventure, leaving Lloyd at home alone (neglectful to begin with) but ended up getting lost across the realms, so her adventure lasted 6 years. She spent the most time in Chima and Nexo (Nexo Knights). She has a small bit of chi that powers her equipment that she got in Nexo*. She befriended the Chima tribes and she worked with the Nexo Knights to save Knighton. *In my interpretation, the organisms of Nexo are a mix of organic material and robotic. They are like natural cyborgs, so their armor is powered by strong organic electric currents they naturally produce. Misako is a human, so she has to use an alternative power source. (Nexo rewrite lore was made in collaboration with @transhitman) Personality: She'd be one of the most ridiculous characters. She is extremely chill and apathetic, played mostly for comedy, but played horrifyingly seriously when it comes to Lloyd. She is so old and so focused on research that she is detached from emotions. She somehow completely fails to understand why Lloyd is so hurt over NOT HAVING A PARENT ("its just five years. and you turned out fine."). She also always wants things her own way, and is completely willing to kill someone if they inconvenience her (played for jokes). She is an okay person overall, just oblivious and unpredictable.

Role in the plot: She would show up from a realm portal mid battle with the Stone Army to help the ninja, rather than showing up before the action to give the initial lore dump. She is mostly a comic relief character, and helps the Ninja when they need knowledge about the realms. She is completely unmoved by any of Lloyd's attempts to bond with her or get an apology from her. She loves Garmadon for being a baddie. Wu flirts with her post Garmadon's death, and she is completely apathetic to this, slightly inconvenienced, considering killing him.

Abilities: She is one of the most combatively-skilled characters on the ninja's side. She uses her bare hands and spinjitzu at close range, and her rifle at long range. The people of Ninjago haven't invented guns yet, and are very surprised. She can absorb energy (including elemental) to power her armor and rifle. Her chi power source allows her to gain superhuman capabilities momentarily, but she doesn't like to use it since it will eventually run dry. She is also extremely wise but is even worse at explaining things than Wu is, out of apathy.

[intotherumiverse]

Helloooo, Rumi, how are you? If it's ok, may I please request some headcanons of Nagi, Bachira, Rin and Shidou with a goofy s/o?

★ ૮₍ ≧ . ≦ ₎ა 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗦𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗳𝘆 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗱 !!

ღ. synopsis - blue lock men and their sense of humor with you ღ. featuring - nagi s. ; meguru b. ; rin i. ; shidou r. ღ. cw - shidou. ღ. notes - i haven't written in so long :( ღ. reader - gender neutral,

nagi

i honestly believe that man has a sense of humor somewhere in there 

it's really dry tho

KING OF DAD JOKES

so when you find out that nagi has some sense of humor you try everything to bring it out

you get close a couple of times, but he's just like a stone wall

he laughs internally

when you finally get a chuckle out of him it's like you won a prize

once he starts laughing around you he doesn't stop

you love making him laugh, he doesn't like his laugh but you love it

he snorts when he laughs, and he has to cover his laugh with his hand

he's just a very easy person to make laugh

meguru

he loves pranking with you

he also is really corny with his pranks

he'll wait until you're really distracted before giving you a "piece of gum" that has a cockroach for it

you two love pranking each other

it's nothing extreme but it's still fun to do

neither of you tries to take it too far so know "MY BOYFRIEND IS CHEATING ON ME" pranks

your favorite prank to play on meguru is rearranging or hiding his stuff in plan sigh to confuse him

he can never find it and by the time he's called you, you already are laughing your way to him

it's very entertaining

rin

this man has no sense of humor.

this is the only hc you get

i'm playing but this man has no sense of humor

NONE

he has such a stick up his ass that he'd rather stare at you than try an attempt to make a joke

but

you did catch laughing at a knock-knock joke once

he was so caught off guard by the joke that he just... laughed

it was such a shock for you to see him laughing you thought you were going crazy

but otherwise, this man has no sense of humor

shidou

he's so dirty-minded but honestly what else would you expect from him.

"that's what she said" is his brand of choice

but when he finds out you have somewhat of the same sense of humor as him he's fucking ecstatic

sends you funny (sexual) tiktoks throughout the day, hoping you'd get them

you'd be anywhere doing anything, and he's sending you 15 tiktoks with inuendos laced into them

he SWEARS that he's funny but he isn't

he loves your sense of humor though

would buy out a theater (this man has no money) to watch you do stand-up comedy

he's so babygirl about you I swear

— tagging ; @megurulvr ; @sscarchiyo ; @christiansdior ; @d-dainsleiffluvsr ; @tyuujiivhs ;

m.list || taglist || navi  

[jappleseedoree]

stay warm || kim gyuvin smau ♪～(´ε｀ ) (5️⃣)

genre: fluff and comedy (hopefully 😭)

MULTIPART SMAU (ignore timestamps!!)

prev ☆ next part

written part after slide 4!! [wc: 738 || not proofread]

you got out of the shower wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. you entered the room where Gyuvin and Gunwook sat. “y/n, where’s your brother's shower? he said i could use it.” Gyuvin asked, as soon as you entered the room. “oh, it’s just down the hall. the one with the moon hanging on the door knob”, “okay thanks” he said, smiling.

when he came out, he had a towel in his hand, drying his damp hair. he looked cute, slightly pouting while drying his hair. that, you couldn’t deny. “are you kinda hungry…” he asked you. “yeah, are you?” you were pretty hungry, volleyball had used up most of your energy. “mhm… Gunwook, are you?”, “nah, not really, you guys can eat if you want” he said looking up at you two. “okay let’s eat at the table then” you said to Gyuvin, giving him a little smile.

Gyuvin flipped his hair from the front to the back, sprinkling your face with water droplets “dude, dry your hair! you just splashed me with the whole ocean!” you said while drying the drops of water on your face. “sorry!” he giggled. you two grabbed snacks from the pantry and sat on the sofa, staring at the TV that displayed nothing but a black screen. you attempted to open the bag of chips but it was tightly sealed “can you open it for me”, “what’s the magic woooord?” Gyuvin teased. “ah, seriously!” you slapped his arm while shoving the bag into his hands.

Gyuvin opened the package, which exposed his biceps. “open your mouth” faving you, holding a chip in his hand. “i can feed myself”, “nooo,” he stamped his feet on the group, making you laugh from how cute he looked. “ah, pleaseee!” he begged. you gave in, opening your mouth, and Gyuvin tossed the chip into your mouth. he started laughing, dropping his head forwards, onto your knees.

you pushed his head off of your knees, using your hands to bring his head up. you cupped his face, squishing his cheeks. “your cheeks are so squishy” you said, cackling. “ah, stop…” you grabbed your hands away, shoving one into the bag of chips, making you grab one and feed it to him. “OW, GYUVIN! you bit my finger!”, “sorryy!!”

you finished snacking with Gyuvin and headed back to your room, greeting Gunwook with a sweet smile. “do you guys wanna watch something?” you asked them, “sure!” and you went to grab your TV remote to turn it on. you got comfortable in your bed and turned on the television. Gyuvin, going with the plan that he and Giselle made, rested his head on your shoulder. you could lightly feel his breath grazing your forearm. Gunwook sat on the other side of you, watching the movie intently. with Gyuvin laying his head on you, you couldn’t focus on the movie at all. instead, you focused on making sure you didn’t make Gyuvin uncomfortable, mentally and physically.

after 3 long hours, the movie ended. the three of you had managed to stay up however Gunwook and Gyuvin were getting tired. “i’m tired, im gonna sleep on the couch, goodnight” Gunwook started heading out of the room, going to the living room. “you don’t wanna sleep here?” you asked, “i don’t think there’s enough space…”, “i can bring in a mattress if you want”, “no it’s okay” he said, smiling. “okay then, goodnight Gunwook”

“i guess it’s just us now…” Gyuvin said, rubbing his eyes with his wrist, bent. “do you wanna do anything?” you asked him, “mmm, i don’t know, if you wanna do something i wouldn’t mind but if you wanna sleep, i wouldn’t mind either”, “it’s 3am… we have school tomorrow, i think we should sleep” you said, giggling, giving Gyuvin your gummy smile. Gyuvin went to turn off the lights and got onto the bed. you laid on your side, hugging a pillow and Gyuvin just slept on his back. “y/n, i could replace the pillow your hugging, if you want” Gyuvin said, in a whiny but sleepy voice. “then come here” you said, discarding the pillow you were hugging, now, outstretching your arm to let Gyuvin lay his head on your chest and cuddle you.

you crawled onto your upper body, laying on it and wrapping his arms around your waist. you rested your arms on his back, brushing your fingers through his hair.

[daylightcommand3]

Dear, @purplekoop

GRRRR RAHH War Bots is consuming me! I keep finding myself thinking about the far off hypotheticals and all the little extraneous details:

What would box art look like? So far I can see Wilderoad and Calber staring at each other from the corners of the art. A random map from the game is the background. Other bots from the game are all rushing towards each other ready for a fight.

What kinds of PvP maps will there be? One idea I had is an abandoned amusement park based on a once-beloved-but-now-forsaken gaming company that is now being used for training.

Also I had the potential* headcanon that the PvP gameplay is the War Bots** training.

*(I say potential because i don't know if you already had that idea. I don't want to assume.)

**(Not to be annoying myself. But I know that War Bots is not the final name of the game nor the team. I just wanted to make that clear real quick. Sorry if this sounds rude. I genuinely don't know how to phrase this without sounding like an asshole.)

What will the trailer look like? I can see a rough draft. A little rendered animation of showing Wilderoad walking onto a PVP map. Chaos is everywhere. We then get quick clips of gameplay footage of characters using their abilities. The obligatory pop song playing in my head bounces between "Cut Off" by Set It Off and "Magic 8" also by Set It Off. (I listened to the album these songs were in recently while I had War Bots on the brain)

By the way, I see Wilderoad as the face of War Bots mainly because they were literally the introduction to it, and if I remembered correctly, they were also one of the first characters made. And if i'm remembering REALLY correctly, I believe you yourself said they were the face.

What will the cosmetics be like? This question really started when you mentioned the quickly scrapped penguin's moveset being given to Velenna. I instantly thought "Alright, Velenna should be given a penguin skin then." Then i realized that I don't recall you ever mentioning cosmetics. Would it be more TF2-esque with a loadout system? Or would it be more Overwatch 2-esque with a simple complete skin system? Speaking of Overwatch, I couldn't help but think of an "Ancient Heroes" skinline that gives our favorite bots a familiar look. Some mappings are rather cut and dry, while some really get you to think (Poppett in particular: Tracer? Lucio? D.va? Kiriko????). I also briefly imagined a "Coat" mechanic of sorts. Where you could merely change the color of the bots bodies. Like putting on a new coat of paint. (As you can see, I'm kinda using War Bots as a cope and a way to wean me off of Overwatch. Or at least attempting to.)

What would the community jokes and memes be like? What would be our nerf Genji? I can already see a meme about Necross, but I won't since I plan to make that one a reality eventually.

Bot Select? I want to see all the bots lined up in rows and columns.

Of course. What game would be complete without your favorite thing: figures! Not to make you drool, but imagine if a Wilderoad figure was right there on your desk. Or Formann? Or Poppett? Or Velenna? Or Navea? Or etc etc etc.

It's all so just- GRRRrrr OHHHhhh, so enticing, so magical, so beautiful. I'm proud to say that I'm on the ground floor of War Bots. I love being a part of this. I can't wait for what comes next.

Sincerely, G

PS: I have absolutely no idea when the rest of The Gardeners posts will be finished. I have solid ideas on all of them (minus one). I just haven't had the time to write them. This week I'm focusing on a big midterm and have the usual load of homework. I'm trying to get a lot done this week so Spring Break I can truly relax and write to my hearts content. Of course, the biggest roadblock to my writing is that I'm busy writing a script for my university's comedy skit program club. And that has a deadline of the week after Spring Break. So yeah. Sometime after that I suppose. I will let you know that the next Gardener I'll be going over is the one with blades.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings!

[westernfrontier]

In Memoriam

Yesterday, I bought Alice Winn's debut novel In Memoriam. I hadn't heard of her or the book and only happened upon it in Waterstones but let me tell you it was brilliant. I read the whole thing in one night and finally fell asleep after the sun had come up. In Memoriam takes place during WW1 and follows the stories of Henry Gaunt and Sidney Ellwood, from their English boarding school to the front lines of war. It is first and foremost a love story, but it also depicts the horrors of war and the friendships they forge. It's a rather sad read, as I'm sure you can imagine and Winn's writing makes it so vivid.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

A fair portion of the opening chapters are written through letters between Ellwood and Gaunt, whilst Ellwood is still at school and Gaunt has joined up to the war effort. What marks the end of this correspondence and finally forces Ellwood to decide to leave the comfort of school to join the front lines is a letter from Gaunt where he tells Ellwood of the horrors of war. Prior to this he'd been keeping the letters quite sanitary and since we as the readers haven't seen much from Gaunt's side either, it comes as quite a shocking plunge from Ellwoods' school antics to the reality of the trenches. I would say it's the first turning point in the book and what he writes is both poignant and revealing. He describes how he saw men dying from gas (I won't go into too many gory details), the fear of going into No Man's Land and how when he stood amongst the fallen bodies of his comrades he writes 'I stood on the most God-forsaken patch of earth I ever hope exists and I thought: I wonder how Elly is.'. Whilst this is only the beginning, the letter was so memorable even by the end. Besides Gaunt and Ellwood, there were many great characters whom I came to love. Especially Gaunts friends from the Offizierslager (a type of German war camp specifically for commissioned officers) that he is sent to in the second half of the story. In particular, Gideon Devi and Archie Pritchard, with whom he attempts to escape. It's funny, there are so many names who get mentioned and then pop up later that make you go 'oh it's him!'. This section of the story also works to break up the intense front line action that the story has so far been packed with and gives you a welcome respite to relax and not worry about any of the characters you like dying horrifically. The story has a lot of dry wit comedy that makes you laugh at the most unexpected times, but this section is especially amusing in a way and knowing how things are going on Ellwoods end has you holding onto it. I also loved Hayes, whose friendship with both Gaunt and Ellwood (though he might not admit to the second one) was so important to the story. The way he supports Gaunt and goes on to look after Ellwood after he leaves. Which brings me onto the scene when Hayes gives Ellwood Gaunt's final letter, which was so perfectly written and heart-breaking (that Hayes even thinks to give it to him at all when it's only one line). And lastly, the ending. To be perfectly honest, the ending is my only point of contention with this book. Not because I think it's bad, more realistic in a way that makes me sad after everything they went through to get there. It ends on an uplifting note, suggests that things will get better but still, I feel sad for Gaunt even whilst I understand how everything has built up to make Ellwood the way that he is. I just wish they could've been a little happier, that Ellwood could've been a little less angry. And also maybe that the two could've discussed some things a bit more about the history of their relationship that I think needed to be said. But 10/10 would recommend.

[strawwritesfic]

Asexual!Q x Female!Reader: Logical Fallacy [Ch. 19]

Summary: Q’s got one hundred and two problems. His girlfriend is, technically speaking, every single one.

Challenge:  “102 Things A Guy Should Know About Girls” challenge by Miss Chocobo on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; asexual!Q; sexual!reader; a running gag about sexual harassment; double standard: sexual harassment, female on male; sexual harassment played for comedy; James Bond & Reader friendship; civilian!reader; artist!reader; complicated family relationships; reader has a really big family; miscommunications; MI6 would not behave this way in reality; set post-Skyfall; joking references made to Bond/Q)

Pairings: Q/Female!Reader; James Bond/Eve Moneypenny

Tag List: @imaginesfire; @rory-cakes​

Master List

Rule #19: Remember: Girls are pretty, but yours is the prettiest!

Two days later, Bond killed the cause of the security breach, and you were released. Not without any sort of ado, of course; MI6 wanted a full debriefing. That wasn't even getting into your not-so-little breakdown, which in M’s opinion warranted a complete psychological exam before he could feel safe in releasing you into the general public. Needless to say, this hadn’t exactly put you in the best state of confidence for your first meeting with head of the entire program.

Q couldn’t help much with that. All he could do was walk you to M’s office door, then give your hand a gentle squeeze as you walked inside. He could feel your pulse pounding as he did so, but he couldn’t even offer you a smile before the door snapped shut and the light above it flashed on.

“You’ll be fine,” he muttered to no one. 

Even Miss Moneypenny was away at the moment. Q was left all alone, with nothing but the painting behind her desk to distract him from his nerves. In a fit of anxiousness, he paced over to the corner water cooler and poured himself a cup. It wasn't tea, but in this case it would have to do.

“Knock knock.”

Q very nearly jumped out of his skin. Given the impossibility of such a situation, though, he only managed to spill water down his front. Of course, there was Bond, sidling into the room, looking bruised but cocky–and, as usual, pleased to be present to see Q embarrass himself.

“007,” Q spluttered as he attempted in vain to dry himself off with nothing but the bottom of his jumper. “What are you doing back already?”

“I caught an early flight back into London,” Bond answered. He placed his hands in his pockets and nodded his head once toward M’s door. “Is [Name] in there? Eve said she wasn’t looking too well earlier.”

The water wasn’t coming out. Q dropped his jumper and gave a shaky nod, his own eyes too jittery to focus for long on any one thing inside the office himself. He swiped an arm across his chin to get the dripping to stop. “M wanted to debrief her. Not that she really knows anything, I don’t think. But for procedure's sake, I suppose.”

Bond seemed to sense Q’s own trepidation, which had only been worsened by all those recent sleepless nights. He clapped Q once on the back–with a little too much force, but Q didn’t have it in him to glower this time. 

“M will treat her fine. He knows she’s not an employee, or a threat,” said Bond.

“I assumed as much.” Q took off his glasses and rubbed his fists into his eyelids. “It’s just the exhaustion talking. He’ll let her go in a bit and she’ll head home.” 

A ragged thought drifted through Q’s head: And then, this time, you might even break up with him. Normally he would have voiced such a thought aloud; it helped his snarky demeanor considerably. But this time it was true, and he was surprised by the ache in his chest at the thought.

The man next to him nodded slowly, then leaned one shoulder on the wall. “She’s a pretty woman, your girlfriend.”

The ache grew deeper; Q felt his blood run slightly cold. When he looked up at Bond’s face, he had to work his tongue several times to unstick it enough for speech. Even then, he was quite sure the horror in his voice was plain. “Did you sleep with her?”

Why the thought bothered him so much, Q couldn’t say, except that in this case he couldn’t blame the exhaustion. He’d worried about it before dropping you off, after all. But he knew that Bond had slept with damn near every woman in the office, and that didn’t bother him. It didn’t bother him that Bond and Miss Moneypenny certainly acted as though they slept together all the time, whether or not they actually had. But with you, it was different. And he couldn’t put his finger on why.

The casual smirk Bond threw Q didn’t help matters. “Are you jealous, Q?”

Q broke eye contact and cleared his throat. “No. I–Of course not. I just wondered if that should be mentioned to the psychologist. I wouldn’t want [Name] failing because there were facts deliberately left out of the background details.”

He heard Bond shift away from the wall then walk over to Miss Moneypenny's desk, probably to look at the pictures she had set up there. Q didn’t look behind him to see for sure. But maybe Bond wasn’t doing that, as he said, “As I was saying, your girlfriend is pretty. And she made it quite plain she wasn’t going to sleep with me as soon as she set foot inside my flat.” There was a laugh in Bond’s voice, barely concealed. 

For once, Q couldn’t even be bothered that Bond was making fun of him. He turned. “Really?”

Bond grinned. “I think she’s a little in love with you.”

A smile flitted across Q’s face, but it couldn’t stay for long. The next moment, he was serious again, and his tired eyes found the light above M’s door. “I hope it stays that way,” he said quietly. 

Bond nodded. “For your sake, I hope so, too.”