#lookin like i wont get anything back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lesservillain · 9 months

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—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week.

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone.

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you.

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself.

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face.

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor.

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief.

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle.

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again.

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all.

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone.

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner.

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening.

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening.

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself.

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more.

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents.

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him.

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light.

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light.

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries.

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode.

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most.

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.”

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence.

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day.

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress.

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever.

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour.

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup.

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label.

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later.

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights.

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day.

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them.

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson st #canon divergent #eddie lives #eddie munson lives #eddie munson slow burn

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rzyraffek · 2 years

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Bruh I got this idea in my head that y/n is getting bullied/scared by some asshole and due to being spooked she hides behind slasher. Slasher is probably confused af. Request open

Yeah anyways how slashers would react:

Tw: y/n isnt very smart, begging(not tw, more just cringe warning), death(not y/n, only bully)

Collector:

Head tilt, kinda confused, He probably was watching this whole argument (somone yelling at y/n) from shadows few minutes already, untill he decided to go in and end this little stupid game of theirs.

When he went in to the room y/n was in, the last thing he expected was her running to hide behind him, being visibly more scared of some normal looking person than some scary guy in mask.

Well thats cute, little butterfly like you, hugging his back, begging to be protected? So cute. Well he wont keep the lady waiting, pests like this bully of yours dont deserve to be in his collection anyways, so why live?

Quick stabs in stomach and neck will do the thing. Now what to do with y/n, well she is terryfied but its difficult to say if shes scared because of Asa deadly activities or the person that was just killed

If y/n decides to thank him for saving, he will probably🤨🤨🤨 kinda confused, like gurl you realise that you are prolly next? Tbh this gratitude probably saved her, because he is now very intresed in her, and will gladly 'invite' her to his nasty as lookin hotel place hideout

Billy Lenz:

He probably already knew shes bullied by her roomate, he is known to stalk people

He does not like the attitude they give her, not at all, of course He is a bab person and serial killer ect, but he is horny aswell and He has crush on any breathing women in 100meter radius, so obviously idea of his little crush being bullied makes him angry

He probably come out from attic just to steal some food and the cat(billy cat person) when he heard shouting, he recognise voice, its that bitch that is being mean to y/n. Billy being Billy tried to sneak and watch yall argue

Y/n probably sees him in corner of room and thought that its one of girls she lives with(Fic takes place in the same place as movie) so she went to him grabbed him and went"🥺shes mean to me again😭"

He will be flabagastered, a f e m a l e just touch him??? Consensually?? And asked for help?? Well now He doesnt crush you anymore, he loves you now. Will stab the bully for you honey. How could they treat you like that?

Will hug you and say some billy-level unholy stuff

Micheal Myers:

He is probably more confused than y/n and her bully together. Ayo human touch? Ayo some girl begging him? To kill somone??? Oh boy thats a lot to take in🤯

I mean win win, he gets kill, she gets rid of bully.

If y/n decides to thank him he will have error, noone really did it before? I mean it doesnt change anything but its still kinda noice? He wont kill her, but will stalk her atferwards, and maybe kidnap yoink her.

Thomas Hewitt:

Well guess who is the dinner today!

Y/n was probably on trip with her 'friends' and one of them acted rather dry and mean >:(

Thomas would probably notice fast, they didnt try to help her, and even said something along the lines "take her not me you monster!" Overall not slay person

He will feel bad but not to point to spare her 🙄 but when she litteraly hide behind him? Da killer? She more scared of her friends than guy who wants to eat her?? Well damn kinda felt bad for her

He would let y/n leave hause, but because he doenst want her to call police, he'll probably just yeet her in basement untill he figures out what to do with her (dont worry shes not next dinner, he will try to convince Luda to keep you. 🥺I got this cute little fella in my basement can I keep her🥺)

#slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #the collector x reader #the collector #asa emory x reader #asa emory #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #billy lenz x you #billy lenz x y/n #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz

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kosije · 1 year

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a/n: never have unprotected sex with strangers! only read about it <3 also this is a old work i just added a bit onto...

cw: mdni, mechanic!hawks x fem!reader, use of doll/ma'am/miss, unprotected sex, missionary, pretty vanilla, simp behavior by hawks, reader calls him keigo, corny dialogue, horrible capitalization (im so srry), probably wont edit this lol...

It's been hours. It's been hours and you're dripping sweat despite the multitude of cold drinks you've ingested from the vending machine in your local auto care. You just took your car in for an oil change and regretted not getting a bus ride back. The more the round clock above the register desk clicked, the more impatient you're getting and the smell of gasoline was hurting your head. After bobbing your leg up and down a little more, you decide to just go out and check on your car.

"Hey! Uh, my car was scheduled to be done 30 minutes ago. Is there any way I can check on it right now? Do you have an ETA of some sort?"

The receptionist, a dark-haired boy with a red choker, looks up empathetically before clicking his keyboard.

"Sorry miss, I dunno much about that, but let me call up your mechanic. What number are you?"

"3389"

"3....3....8- oh Hawks is working on that one! I'll call to see if you can get buzzed in, but no need to worry. He is our fastest and most skilled mechanic, so your car will be good as new as soon as he's done."

The boy's voice becomes the slightest bit animated and you feel your annoyance tone down. But you didn't care if it was "good as new," just as long as you could get home safe.

"Okay, thank you."

His fingers quickly punch into a corded phone before a voice comes on the other line.

"He said it should be done in 2, but you're more than welcome to go in."

You nod and thank the teen before stumbling past wired gates and stray cigarettes before finding your car. It looks damn good. Originally a somewhat hand-me-down from your mother to yourself, it was always beautiful on the outside. The silhouette was a classic thing. real sleek and "real groovy" according to your mother. But the upsides stopped at the exterior.

The ac was loud, and the radio was spotty. Even the leather seats were chipping, despite the multitude of repairs you've paid for out of pocket.

But now the car looks brand new. The shell of your car is clean and shiny. When you open the door, you're pleasantly surprised by the smell of musky cologne and your clean linen car freshener, and even more surprised when you can't see where the patches of missing leather are. you almost let yourself smile before realizing this might be a scam to force you to pay for the advancements.

You're too busy peeking into your interior to notice another person walking up.

"Is this ya car, or you lookin' for a ride to jack?"

You flinch slightly but recover yourself well enough to turn to face the deep voice and a rush of heat flushes over you. Sharp amber eyes run over your figure as you busy yourself with getting a good look at the man leaning against the bumper of your car. messy blonde hair, healthy tan, scruff, and muscular. All things you like, except (so far) his personality.

"And you are?"

"The mechanic, doll," He replies in a "duh" voice, slipping his arms out of his dirtied blue denim overalls and crossing them over the other. You don't miss how his biceps flex slightly at the gesture.

"You got anything else to ask, or are you jus’ gonna keep checking me out?"

"I wasn't checking you out."

"Whatever makes you feel better," He laughs, walking up only to lean on the steel table behind you.

"Look this is my car-" He cuts you off by reading your name off a stray paper that has dirt and oil on it, raising an eyebrow and you nod a confirmation.

He offhandedly purrs something about the name being pretty, and you have to consciously ignore the burn in your cheeks.

"Just tell me how much the repair is gonna cost," the question comes out with a sigh, and now it's your turn to cross your arms. It's done out of attitude, but when his eyes lower to focus on your chest, electricity trickles down your spine.

"You gonna answer or keep checking me out?"

coughing and readjusting himself on the table, he tells you $110.

"Are you kidding? The oil change was 60!"

"I did a whole lot besides an oil change, doll"

"without my consent! This has got to be illegal!"

"Well, how about this?" he says, moving closer to you, and you can now see just how much he dwarfs you in size. "You pay $40 bucks, and let me take you out to dinner."

well... that wasn't something you were expecting.

"I don't know you."

"I know."

"You don't know me."

"Let's change that then." He says. The smirk he has is toothy and could almost be seen as sweet if he didn't just try to scam you out of $50. After another beat of silence, he talks again.

"Don't be brutal, doll. You know you're just as excited to see where this goes."

"I don't usually date scammers." You finally say, but it's meek and you instantly regret it because all he does is smile wider.

"There's a first for everything."

...

You don't know why you agreed and gave him your number and address. But you did. You also don't know why you're wearing such an expensive dress and perfume. Or why you're putting on makeup. But you are. It was all too elaborate for a one-off date with a random man. Nevertheless, here you were, crouching down to put your bobby pins in your hair because your dress didn't allow for enough movement.

There are three quick knocks at your door before you hear Hawk's voice.

"I'm starving, doll. Don't leave me like this."

Bastard

You quickly give yourself a one-over and head to the door. When you open it you see Hawks, except he looks different. His hair is neatly brushed back, and he swapped his stronger cologne for a much more elegant one that matches even better with yours. simple suit and tie with square-cut earrings.

"you look good" he looks better than good, but you don't wanna say anything that'll inflate his ego more.

"you look perfect," and he punctuates it by saying your name instead of 'doll' and you like the way it sounds more than you thought.

Hovering over you now with one arm on the doorframe. He stretches out a hand with a small grin.

"May I? " You place your hand in his.

"You May."

...

5 things you've learned about Hawks Keigo so far

1. his real name is Keigo, hawks being a nickname he got in his youth because of his speed and eyes

2. his hand is much larger than yours

3. he has great taste in restaurants

4. his favorite food is yakitori (a new favorite of yours too)

5. he's ready to go back to your place

"How was your food?"

"It was actually... great"

"C'mon, don't act all reluctant! This restaurant has never done me wrong!" He says as you shift the air conditioner to fan your face and turn the radio up a bit.

"Right, yakitori connoisseur. I can see why you'd take your dates here."

"You're the first." He says emphasizing the last part with a sly look over to your spot in the passenger seat of his Mercedes. It's an admission that has a smile threatening to find a home on your lips, but you turn your head to face outside the window and he chuckles knowingly.

"Or are you saying this should now be the spot? Cuz I could make that work."

"You sure know how to ruin a mood." You're laughing at his feigned hurt expression as he steers with one hand while the other goes over his heart.

"How rude!" He says before the hand over his heart falls to your thigh and suddenly you're hyperaware of how warm he is. "I'll make sure this spot is special to just you."

If the hand on your thigh wasn't enough, the sincerity of his tone has you reeling and reaching over his middle console to kiss him. Soft, short, and sweet on his cheek. You can hear his breath hilt and the smell of his cologne is stronger. When you pull back, you can see the mark of your lipstick on his cheek. And his hand squeezes your thigh tighter.

"You're driving me crazy, doll."

"...was that a pun because you're driving?"

"What?"

"I said-"

he dramatically turns up the radio and you roll your eyes when he excessively mouths 'I can't hear you!'

"YOU'RE LUCKY THIS SONG IS GOOD!" you yell into his ear and he laughs, drawing circles onto your thigh with his thumb. The ride back to your apartment is shorter than you'd like, but at least he walks you up to your door, right?

"I don't usually invite scammers into my house."

"yeah?" he asks, hands already on your waist and head tilted.

"but there's a first for everything, isn't there?"

"id like that," he says, smiling down at you as you walk backward into your living room.

His lips are feverish on yours, tongue exploring as deep as it can into your mouth until his and your lips are purple and swollen before drawing purple bruises all over your neck and chest, just over your tits. Your body is hot and you hurriedly pull your arms out of your dress and shimmy it off-eliciting a pleasured hum when he finds that you're not wearing a bra- as he quickly tosses his button-up and jacket before his lips are back onto yours. Your hands wrap around Keigo's neck and his hands cup under your ass and lift you up.

"First door on your right."

Following your instructions, he walks with you to his arms to your room and tosses you on the familiar sheets of your bed.

"Do you want this?" he asks, hands working on his belt

"Please."

His jaw clenches, and in a second he's bare in front of you.

And big. Much bigger than you think you can take. Thick veins wrap around his cock and you can tell he shaved just for tonight. He runs a finger up and down your clothing slit. Your lips part and a soft sigh rolls off your tongue.

"Don't be a tease."

"Yes ma'am," his finger hooks on the edge of your lace panties and slides them off before running his cock up and down to gather your slick with a quiet groan. Without warning, he slides into you, and you're both vocal. after letting you adjust to his length, he slowly starts moving inside of you, then faster and you're whining around him.

"so pretty," comes out a gasp when his hands pull your legs over his shoulders.

"yer so pretty. And yer the tightest lil' thing I've ever had. Why don't we make an h-habit of this, hmm?"

"The sex or–fuck–dinner?" You ask, trying to slow the coil in your gut with deep breaths.

"Both."

"That sounds like dating."

"It's not–shiit"

"How so?" You ask, moaning into the back of your hand when he switches his angle and hits that spot that has you seeing stars.

"You don't date scammers," he says and you would laugh if you didn't have drool sliding down the side of your mouth. His eyes flicker to it and when he licks it up, only to kiss it back into your mouth, and your nails find his back and rake over the skin in an attempt to ground yourself.

"So...what...' bout...it," he asks between kisses and you roll your eyes. When you don't answer, he grunts and stalls all movements.

"What-"

"Answer me and I'll move."

His eyes widen as he watches you move up and down on your own.

"Stubborn," he whispers out, still wide-eyed when his lips split into a grin. "you won't be able to fuck yerself the way I do it. So just be good 'nd-"

"Yes." you bite out. Your pride feels robbed, but you can tell he's right when you feel your stomach ache.

"Yes, what?"

He's moved again, but it's too slow for your liking and leaves you irritated. You're exactly where he wants you, and so—reluctantly — you mutter:

"Let's make this a habit!"

An uncharacteristically soft hand cups your cheek and your stomach twist.

"I knew you could be good for me," he says, lips pressing into the side of your mouth and you're writhing.

Speeding up again, you feel that familiar flame of pleasure ignite within you and tangle your hands into his blonde strands. The room is filled with slaps and moans and if you weren't so fucked out, you might've been able to hear your headboard knocking against the wall and how the mess of your nightstand slightly bounces from the source. Praises are whispered in between messy thrusts and you try your best to focus on the sweat running down your back to let the feeling of him inside you last longer, but your toes are curled and can taste blood from how hard you’re biting down on your lip.

“Don't shy away now, I love that pretty voice of yours,” and his face looks so much in ecstasy that when his tip hits that spot in you again a pornographic moan leaves your lips, and the flood of pleasure hits you is as foreign as it is blissful. You almost gave no control of yourself. barely hushing yourself, barely able to unravel your legs from around his hips, all too consumed in your high. But Keigo is no better. When your legs ease the hold around his hips, he hurriedly pulls out, but not fast enough, and globs of white spray onto your pussy and all over your chest, even up to your neck. He can only pump himself a few more times before he's falling on top of you with a huff, knocking the air out of you.

"U-P!" you gasp out, hitting his chest until he rolls over with a sheepish look.

"'M sorry," is all that he says before narrowing his eyes when you giggle.

"Didn't know nutting took that much energy out."

"me neither," he says, joining in on your giggles with a squawk-like laugh that makes you laugh even harder. "I've never come that hard."

"I'm flattered." You purr, smiling up at the ceiling. "I don't think ill be able to walk for a couple of days myself."

And you were joking, but when he laughs and hoists himself up with a hand on your thigh, the soreness humbles you and you realize there's more truth to that statement than you care to admit. You point to the bathroom and he nods, disappearing and reappearing with a damp rag and cleans you up.

"How do you like your baths?"

"Warm." you twitch when he wipes over a sensitive part, earning a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

When he's done, he moves back into your bathroom and you can hear him turn on the faucet, and you stretch to your legs until the water is turned off and he's scooping you into his arms. When you've finished, he offers to carry you back to bed, but you insist on getting back on your own, even if your legs felt a bit wobbly. You slip into something comfortable while he puts on what he had on before, only now it's wrinkled. You expect him to leave immediately after he's dressed.

"what are you going to watch me sleep?"

"just waiting for you to invite me to stay the night"

"not gonna happen," you say and laugh at the way he pouts. "next time, maybe." And now you're laughing harder at how quickly his expression changed to a smile.

He leans down to kiss you long and slow, pulling away to leave a peck on your cheek.

"Same time next week?" he asks, giving you another peck, this time along your cheek. You mumble an affirmation, eyes blissfully shut as his lips move to our neck.

"and the one after that. " And he's grinning against you again when he says this.

"Overzealous, don't ya think?" not missing the glint in his eyes when they meet yours again. Same gold that seems to shimmer close up.

"Just makin' a habit of it." Is all he says, same beautiful eyes looking down at you, same lopsided grin, now pretty purple marks on his neck.

And all you can do is say,

"okay, same time next week."

#( ☆ ) mha #( ☆ ) smuts #mha hawks #what r u guys listening to on the radio tho???#keigo smut #keigo x reader #hawks smut #hawks x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #my hero smut #hawks gives Tony! Tony! Tony! during sex...

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littleplantfreak · 3 months

Text

Do they tan or burn? - Bofurin

Self explanatory really but I do it based on vibes //shrugs

Umemiya Hajime - Oh baby he burns like a lobster everywhere. You're gonna have to slather him super well super often. He tans after but for a couple days he runs hotter than normal (which is really hot, he's only sleeping with a sheet in bed IF that)

Hiragi Toma - Burns on his nose and cheeks sometimes but otherwise a solid tan. Still sunscreens often and reminds others to do so as well.

Tsubaki Tasuku - You won't see burn nor tan. Her skin is flawlessly protected at all times and yes, he has a special dry stick that goes over makeup. When he was a kid he tanned.

Kaji Ren - He's also fried if he doesn't put it on frequently. Prefers to just cover himself with a hoodie even if it's sweltering.

Sakura Haruka - Why does he peg me as a small town boy from the mountains? Not that that means anything ig but growing up in the country most people just tanned in my experience. I feel like he tans most of the time. Forgets to put sunscreen on his ears though sometimes and they end up red.

Nirei Akihiko - He'd burn and then tan but he is also religious with sunscreen. His freckles grow in number and he has them a lot of places, shoulders, chest, back, etc. Has many hats and will bring some for people if he knows they're gonna be out for a while.

Suo Hayato - No one's ever seen him apply sunscreen but he neither burns nor tans...Actually, he uses a special zinc one for sensitive skin but usually puts it on in the bathroom, and once someone asks him, he just decides to make it one of those mysteries everyone wonders about

Kiryu Mitsuki - Burned terrible one time on vacation when he fell asleep at the beach so he's super careful. Woke up looking like a red panda because he had those bug-eyed sunglasses on.

Tsugeura Taiga - Tans no doubt. I dunno if he'd try tanning beds (theyre super bad for you ig) but he tried spray tan once and it was baaaaaaad. Still went to school lookin like an orange though

Sugishita Kyotaro - hmm tans methinks. Doesn't like spray sunscreen wants the lotion. He wont tan outside but he likes to nap in sunlight if it's coming through a window.

Masaki Anzai - Tans. He's outside a lot too so he gets pretty dark depending out the weather. Wears a baseball cap if the UV's super high.

#wind breaker #im not tagging all those boys i just did this for fun anyways #mari writes #not x reader #I wanna spray my hand with sunscreen and slap it on umes back so when it burns/tans my handprint is just there #i burn bad cause of the polish blood and my blue eyes blonde hair combo #youll never see me blond again tho box dye has been my friend for years #i actually use the stick for going over makeup thx korean beauty products

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alelathedragon · 5 months

Text

Possesed Bowser

I REEEEEEEALLY LOVE KING BOO if that wasn't obvious enough. I saw @kerrtesy make a thing , King Boo's final Gambit . Spirit Tracks lookin ass and I LOVE IT!!!!!

KB would totally kick Bowser outta his own body for his use lol. And I wanted to throw my hand at giving a sketch of what I think that would look like, I hope you enjoy @kerrtesy !!!! Even if this doodle is tiny and on lined paper lmao

I really enjoy your thingy!

Possesed Bowser has a protective Neck Brace connected to an armour plate that goes over his scales. Its a thin piece of armour so he can still retract into his shell, however this entire thing is to keep his Head on his body.

King Boo remembers his Puppet Bowser from the first game and sees how his possesion effects Bowser's real body: aka parts of the koopa's body becoming ghastly and able to detatch. So KB out of total parranoa strapped this chestplate to Bowser's body. (And hey, it ended up being a good idea. So Luigi would have a harder time nocking the Koopa onto his back and would have to find another way to get to the spector, not expecting Bowser's ghost to be coaperative enough to work with the green bean lol)

The amrour has spikes that can go in and out for accesablility, it also has a little Boo shaped lock! Because how would Luigi have anything that resembles a Boo in this fight between them? Genious!

Bowser's body reacts strangly to King Boo possesing him, the body is in half of a stage of panic wanting to Revive Bowser from the inside out (like we see in Inside Story) but at the same time, his body is alive??? His body kinda freaking out. Which is annoying to the spector because if he can't convince the body that it is Fine. Then he'll have a sudden growth sprout lmao. Smack his head into the ceiling and break something while in the middle of trying to plot evily, bro wont be able to get anything done if he just outgrows it and breaks it everytime (bc remember, revived Bowser becomes a Kaiju)

KB would work around it ofc, bc Kaiju Bowser would be very useful! Step on Luigi and kill him. EZ.... Right?

Bowser's arms are ghastly and stretch out all spooky like yeehaw. The bottom half of his legs are also ghastly which makes it easier for KB to traverse the big boy's body places or phaze through floors a little bit as a treat.

Reach through floors or train karts to try and bitch slap Luigi

#art #traditional art #headcannons #luigis mansion #fanart #bowser #Boowser #spirit tracks au #luigis mansion au #railroad #railway #ghosts #boo #kingboo #king boo #possesed #Boswer possesed #artwork #creature

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jaehyunsprincesspeach2 · 1 year

Note

I've seen your fic on SWORD leaders falling for the same girl and thought it was cute and hilarious! Can you make another one where Cobra, Yamato and Noboru are possessive of their childhood friend(crush)?

Ooomg this is so good!!!

Thank you for the request!

Hope you enjoy☺️

Much love ~ ember

Cobra, Yamato, and Noboru Possessive Over their Childhood Crush

Cobra

Cobra is such a good guy omg i love him

I think when it comes to his childhood crush, he is comfortable enough to really let his guard down for them

He is very soft with them. He knows that he can come off as intimidating, and he wants nothing more than to just be a source of comfort for them

Whenever they are around, he doesn’t want them to worry about anything

I could see him putting on a perception that everything is okay, so that his crush wont worry about anything

But deep down he is hiding the fact that SWORD may or may not be falling apart, and that he is jealous after seeing some random person flirting with you

Cobra is possessive in a very chill way

He shows it when other people are trying to flirt with you, or other people are threatening you in any way

REFUSES to let people hurt you

And if they do, they wont make it through the night without a broken nose, best case scenario

He tells you everything when its just the two of you

His way of protecting you is letting you into his mind, so that you know what is going through his head in every scenario

This protects you in the sense that you know when to step back cause hes about to kick some ass

(Maybe just me but kinda cute lmao)

Whenever the two of you are out on the town, he is on high alert

Something could happen at any moment, and he wants to be ready for it, so that you dont get hurt

When the two of you are at diner Itokan, he always has you sit next to him

He knows your order too, so really all you have to do is sit there lookin pretty (easy for you, you’ve mastered it :))

Occasionally, if someone he doesn’t like, or if someone makes him feel even slightly threatened with you, his arm is around your shoulders

The two of you may not be together, but he makes it seem like it (can’t complain tho)

Knows that the diner can get busy, especially if all of Sannoh is there, so keeping you in the booth with him is the best way for him to protect you

And if you’re anything like me, dear reader, he knows that you are not the most comfortable in crowds, so he takes that time to reassure you that everything is okay, and that he wont let anything happen to you

Honestly whether the two of you are together or not, everyone around thinks that you are, just because of how possessive Cobra is of you

Perks of being the crush of the leader of Sannoh Hoodlum Squad: NOBODY DARES TO MESS WITH YOU

Overall: possessive in a very subtle way, and honestly makes it seem more protective than anything

Yamato

I see Yamato as a little bit of a wild card

I think it depends on the situation that the two of you are in

If things are good, and there aren’t any threats around, he is super chill, and laid back

Definitely saying something to make you laugh, its his most favorite sound in the world

However, if there is someone who is even just looking at you slightly too long, or looking at you with the wrong intentions….

Yamato is glued to you

Most likely has his arm around your shoulders, looking at the other person like hes about to rip their head off

Still fairly subtle, however I do think that if someone is making you uncomfortable, he would be the one to go up to them and say something

Now, this could either be him whispering in their ear, or he could simply stand from where the two of you are and yell across the room

Really depends on his mood for the day

Another one to be very soft with his crush

Remembers everything that his crush has ever told him, even from when they were little

Like the time you told him you like blue popsicles over purple popsicles

Still sometimes shows up to you with a blue popsicle cause he thinks its cute the way you light up when you realize that he remembered

When hes in a really possessive mood, he wont let anyone near you

I think on those days, he would take you somewhere where you two can completely be alone

Maybe to the top of one of the city buildings, so that ya’ll can see the view, and spend time together just the two of you

Is not afraid to let you see his intimidating side, however he will never use it on you

He’s a tall guy, and he knows his size is intimidating, but when he talks to you, he does whatever he can to take away that factor

Like when hes talking to someone else hell puff his chest out, but when hes talking to his crush, he tries to make himself smaller somehow??

I’m not really sure how, I’m a rather small person but you get the idea lol

Like Cobra, if anyone hurts you, they wont make it very far till Yamato is beating them up

Honestly, Yamato is a lover. He just wants everyone to feel included and happy

But he wont stand for someone hurting the one that he loves

When the two of you are at diner Itokan, he doesnt really keep you away from anyone, or in one certain spot, he lets you move around as you please, while he watches you intently

But if someone makes you uncomfortable he is by your side in milliseconds

The kind to take away all of your worries or anxiety and tell you everything will be okay, as long as he is with you nothing will happen

Looks deep into your eyes often, especially if it makes you flustered

Overall: hes such a softie with his childhood crush, but his possessiveness depends on the situation, and he is not afraid for you to see that side of him, he just wants to keep you safe and comfortable

Noboru

Noboru is different than the others

He is possessive in a way that is hard to hide

Though I dont see him at the type to directly fight, unless that situation happens, and he has no other choice

If he has the choice to decide how things go down, he thinks through it very thoroughly, and goes about it in a way that is more detrimental than a broken nose

I feel like hes got enough connections, especially with Cobra and Yamato, that he would send someone to beat them up, then would do something technical

Like the other person would just wake up one day and everything they own would just be gone

Like finances and things like that…. Just gone

HOWEVER, with you, he is so soft and gentle

When the two of you are out, he refuses to let you out of his sight

Not that he is constantly on edge, but he is very aware of your surroundings

Keeps you close at all times

Always smiling when you are around

And when you aren’t around, hes always talking about you, though he gets a little bashful when he does this

Would do anything to keep you safe

He knows what its like to lose someone romantically close to him, and every time you aren’t with him, hes on edge

He trusts you completely

Even when he was working with Kuryu, he kept you out of harms way, and told you all about it after he was out

Noboru is a quiet lover, he shares his admiration through the way that he looks at you, and gentle forms of PDA, if that is something that you are comfortable with

If you ever tell him that something he did made you uncomfortable, he would immediately stop, and apologize profusely

Takes very good care of you

Even helps you study for school

Overall: all he wants to do is take care of you. Very gentle and trusting with you, and though he knows you can take care of yourself, hes always there to support you

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absurdumsid · 8 months

Note

(this is just an ask for more underangel's content.)

oh dear. ive been stalling writing for this specific au for such a long time,,,,

UnderAngel Lore

or. um. options for it, you get to decide whats canon ? i hope u know i could be lying. or not

i wont be able to make a long lore post (like keepertale's) because. um. although this AU is older than underpills, it's gone (+ going) through SO MANY changes even i cant list them all down

the core plot of underangel is "what if there was never a war between humans and monsters?" its somewhat like ?? a complete opposite of underfell

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, the humans threatened the monsters, who did not want to fight, much less a war. Surrendering themselves, the monsters were sealed underground with a magic spell.

this au is focused on sans and his identity as a human turned monster kinda deal, he and papyrus are "undead" and were resurrected by toriel (to see if resurrection is possible) and gaster (to find the limits of healing magic)

they were taken in by gaster after the resurrection thing (since he was the one who proposed the experiment in the first place) but after gaster "dies" they dont really remember ANYTHING about themselves because all their knowledge came from him. they just have this sorta nagging feeling that theyre Not Really Monsters yknow

sans has always been the centre of the au (even back when it was still called underheaven, and there was even a heavenfell,,,,) heres doodles of what i remember them lookin like

but ACTUALLY

this au focuses on chara and their internal conflict as the main reason monsters almost went to war.

see, the story goes somewhat like this:

When the "heart-of-gold trophy child" Chara started "misbehaving" after a game of hide and seek with Asriel, the Monster King's son, humans decided to stop the charade of acceptance. It started with a simple threat toward Asgore and his kingdom. His advisor seemed very... very favourable of war, but he only wanted peace between his people and the humans. So in order to avoid war, he decided to surrender before the humans could so much as scratch his family. Despite the sacrifice separating Asriel and Chara made for peace, Chara decides to run and find a way to go to Mt. Ebott and reunite with their family.

they (and asriel !!) serve as frisk's guide throughout the underground and they get to understand the history of it through exploring, but also chara's insights on certain things (you can tell i like the narrator chara theory) they even have a sit down where they talk about their feelings about being stuck underground

chara is actually in their late thirties now (baby face :/ im envious)

HAHA SIKE !

its ACTUALLY about the mystery of the former royal scientist and the six (dead) fallen children

frisk finds the mysterious grey door in room 268 and is met with a deformed phantom of gaster, he does not speak nor does he move, and when frisk reaches out to try and touch his hand, he flashes a big smile and disappears.

frisk then goes around the underground asking if they know someone who looks like that, and pieces together that it was the royal scientist after speaking to gaster's followers in hotland (this guy rlly met all of them. in one run. damn)

(side note angel!gaster is like. a multiverse therapist now. i call that "au" or his little corner of the multiverse outcode counseling)

ANYWAY

u can choose which of these are canon or like. which of these arent. or maybe NONE of them are canon and this whole post is a lie

oh but underangel always ends in a genocide run

#underangel #underangel lore #undertale au #UGHHHH I DONT WANNA TAG ALL THE CHARACTERS #underangel sans #sans au #underangel chara #chara au #underangel frisk #frisk au #underangel gaster #gaster au #sid art #sid ocs #sid answers #youre not gonna believe this but all my lore posts go through like three copyreading phases to make sure i get ALL the details correct.#the capitalisation. the colour. the everything.#but SOMEHOW i STILL MANAGE TO SCREW UP HGHFGHRHGHR

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keo-k · 7 months

Text

sometimes i think i wasnt an injury-prone child and then i realise im gaslighting myself

tw: fair descriptions of injury?? if you dont like blood uhh dont read <3 this is just me reminiscing on being a child who thinks they cannot feel. pain. sorry if its incoherent im very sick and life feels like a fever dream and i did not sleep last night! this is so diary-entry-core TLDR i had a lot of random injuries and a few medical mysteries.

i keep looking at the middle of my chest like "man where the fuck did i get this scar from" and then i remember this one childhood day where i was filled with hubris and slid down a chain in a playground and my skin tore from under my shirt and i started bleeding terribly ill also occasionally look at the permanent callouses on my hands and remember running down a hill at full speed, followed by rolling down a hill at full speed, crashing into rocky concrete, looking down at my hands and being utterly terrified because they're entirely covered in blood???? its all red??????? also spinning on the biggest rock in the rock garden in front of my house after a friend's birthday party blowing bubbles when i lose my footing and land chin-first into the sharpest rock there, getting blood all over my favourite party dress and having to go to the ER for 6 hours and getting, not stitches, but glue. yeowie. i scratched most of the scar off somehow, just tearing the skin off my face because i didnt like the texture. its still kind of there if you look at the right angle. being in gymnastics class, doing beat swings on the high bars, thinking "whey my hands hurt im gonna drop and get some chalk (for some reason. its not like i was slipping i was just yeowch)", dropping down, looking at my hands and LO AND BEHOLD three inches of the skin beneath my ring finger on both hands is sticking up stupid vertical ! i couldnt use my hands too good for the next two weeks, also the skin sticking up WAS NOT DEAD so i couldnt trim it without feeling excruciating pain. like cutting your ear off :( not really a "when i was younger" thing, still valid now, but i have hyper mobility so im stupid flexible. especially in my ankles! like i cant do sports without wearing ankle braces on both legs. even that cannot save me sometimes, i still die. anyway my mum thought i was a piece of shit and was faking my ankle injuries bc the limping would last like. a whole month wowie! then we realised i just have bad joint. also i can hit the splits anywhere without stretching, i can walk on the literal sides of my ankles (not like. the sides of my feet no no no. go even further beyond.), i can fold my fingers backwards into silly lookin curls without any pain and keep them there no issue, and i have gotten many MANY greenstick fractures even after my bones developed a lot because my bones soft and refuse to break like a normal persons. like my basketball coach will bend my leg back to test how far it goes and i wont feel any pain and he'll say like. "oh thats waaaay too far back to be safe." and ill laugh because it can go WAY further back! and i hate it !

BONUS: ME BEING A MEDICAL MYSTERY WOOOOO up to age 8 i would have these ... seizures? all throughout the night. i would shake super aggressively and it wouldnt wake me up. my mum filmed it one night when she finally caught it on video (she would stay up HOURS ON END trying to catch it. wild). the shaking would start like a twitching at my fingers and would travel to my hand, to my arm, to the rest of my body and youd think i got fucking electrocuted. anyway she showed it to doctors and they brought me in immediately to scan my brain for fuck knows what and they didnt. find anything? like my brain activity was completely normal. they didnt let me out of hopital for a week cus theyre like "THIS ISNT NORMAL SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THIS KID" but. womp womp. we never found out. i dont shake anymore but i do shmove a lot. like, a lot a lot. and im always tired and im capable of falling asleep standing up. and have minor chronic fatigue. also i had a bullseye-type thingy on my thigh that really, REALLY looked like a tick bite! i was in immense amounts of pain and couldnt properly walk. there was a dot in the middle, and this surrounding ring of red would expand and shrink overtime. very reasonable to think of it as a tick bite. anyway my parents carried me out to the car in the middle of the night so we could go to sick kids. they measured how much the ring would expand by (i dont remeber number. it was beeg.) and then they sent me to the ER out of the concern that i would get lyme disease. they tested me or something idk i was unconcious and. IT WASNT A TICK BITE! you may be asking "so what was it, mr gorgeous fish?" um. well heres why this is in the 'medical mystery' section. they never found out. it went away a day later and we were just like "ah. okay." so. whoops. when i was a toddler they put me in an mri thing where they uh. strapped me down because toddlers usually freak out and damage the mri thingy? anyway. was in there for two hours. and i did not freak out. at all. i was asleep for one of the hours, but the second one i just laid there very awake and very still and the doctors thought i had brain. damage. i didnt! yay ! i also have many chronic illness now. weeeee i probably missed a lot of my stories here but anyway. heres me being silly

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moncey-imagines · 2 years

Text

WDW Trip Headcanons | Sans x GN!Reader

Sorry this took so long, Thanksgiving week has been quite busy 🥲 but now it is done and out for all the world to see 🐎🐎for context, the reader is hyperfixated on the disney parks (just like me 😎)

!!THIS HAS NOT BEEN PROOF-READ OR EDITED!!

enjoy!!!

Also I added an intro to lead into the headcanons 😱

It started with a simple statement:

* WHAT?? SERIOUSLY???

* seriously.

This is the first time you found out that Sans had absolutely no idea about the pure magic and majesty of Disney parks.

* You've been on the surface for like a year...how do you STILL not know about Disneyworld...

* idk

* Do you even know about the Disney company at all??? You have to, they are industry giants in like every category of anything ever...

* i think so, are they the ones that have the princesses?

* Which princesses?

* you know, the ones.

* No I don't, you have to tell me which ones.

* the ones with the hair.

* WHAT KIND OF HAIR?

* long hair i think.

* Rapunzel?

* idk

* Okay yeah that's it, we're going to Disneyworld, lemme go book the flights.

* cool

Two weeks later, you and your skeleton boyfriend were off to Orlando so you could expose him to the wonders of Walt Disney World.

Once you two are there and walking around, he'd probably be more focused on you rather than the park. I mean, it's kind of hard to ignore how excited you get over being in the park. The amount of facts that pop up in your brain the second you're in the parks is abundant, so much so that there is no way to stop you excited rambling (not that he'd try, he thinks it's cute).

* Look!! Look at the windows!!

* im lookin.

* It's a tribute to Marc Davis!!

* i...sorry, i dont know who that is.

Expect a lot of Sans not understanding a single thing you're talking about.

* Sans!! Look at the rocks, it's shaped like the Nautilus!!

* yeah?

* Yeah!! That's cause 20000 Leagues Under the Sea was here before The Little Mermaid ride!!

* wow.

* Do you know what any of what I just said means?

* um...not really no, im sorry.

He'll still listen though, he likes seeing you happy and excited.

* i really don't think these guys have the guts to be in here naked

* They're fake skeletons, Sans, but there's a rumor that the skull on the bed in Disneyland if re- wait...they don't have the guts. I just got it.

* took you a minute huh.

* Shut it, bonehead.

* sorry, but a name like that won't get under my skin.

* These jokes suck, you must have left your funny bone at home.

* i know, im just a lazy bones like that.

Everyone around you two have to occasionally either sit through agonizingly horrible jokes or get up and walk away.

* Hey, Sans! Do you think you can solve the murder mystery?

* murder mystery? isnt that a little dark for magic kingdom?

* It's not too dark for the Haunted Mansion, that's what this ride is all about.

* ah, okay. i wont let it rattle my bones then.

* You're such a doofus.

* actually, in your own words, im a bonehead.

* Do you think you can do the puzzle or not? The lines gonna move...

* yeah, yeah, okay.

Sans also seems to really like standing in line to hear what other people are saying.

* people say some wild stuff here, (y/n).

* Like what?

* i just heard a little girl ask her mom what happened to Mickey Mouse when he went backstage and her older sister said that the staff skinned him.

* Oh my god.

* thats not all, after that her mom agreed and told her thats how they make the Mickey ear hats.

* these fireworks are pretty nice.

* Did you know that they have to set them off no matter what? For safety reasons, they can't let old fireworks sit back there unused, even is they cancel the shows.

* so theres technically always a show?

* ...I guess so, yeah.

* ...

* What do you think happens if an airplane flies to close to the fire works?

* what happens?

* It probably becomes a scareplane.

* that one's a stretch

* C'mon, I thought it was funny.

* you were close, but not close enough. maybe next time.

Driving the car to the hotel, you turn to Sans.

* Did you...like today's trip? I wasn't annoying was I?

* i liked it, yeah, and not at all, i thought all your little facts were great. im excited for what you tell me tommorow.

* Alright, I'll stock up on my facts for Animal Kingdom tomorrow.

* you better, ill even polish my humerus.

* I knew you were gonna make some kind of pun, I felt it in my bones.

* what, have you been spine on me?

* Okay, that one was knee-t.

Sans lets out a sigh.

* What's wrong?

* nothing at all, i love you.

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG AAAAA

also sorry if its more dialogue than headcanons, I've been coding VNs as of late DHFYSGADFh

I kinda wanna make this into a short visual novel...but I cannot at the moment, I must get this fic out DHGFIYFSG

I hope it was good, if anyone wants a part two in another part just send in an ask 😎

#sans undertale #sans x reader #moncey imagines #undertale #☺️#🏃‍♂️#👠

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sims3fiend · 10 months

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Sims 3 Memory Freer

Been kinda busy so I haven't had any sims3 time lately :( but I'm back at it and lookin' at Error 12 again, this time with an ASI file you can use!

Here is a link to the memory "freer", spoilers, it doesn't really free memory. Please read the readme, but basically it just shows a message box/alert when you're getting close to the cap, and has a hotkey (f8) for setting max detail lots to 0 (sometimes helps free memory in a pinch).

To use it you'll either need the smooth patches ASI loader or dxwrapper's (recommended), then just pop it into your Bin directory (make sure LoadPlugins is set to 1 if you're using dxwrapper). I'm also going to update my performance tweaks post to fix some of the now-inaccurate information, but most of the stuff there I still recommend (just not dxvk).

If anyone knows anything that triggers a purge/cleanup lmk! It would fix literally all of this. I've tried traveling to other maps, entering into various editors, changing settings, chanting hymns etc, but nothing seems to work.

Unfortunately nothing I've tried on the memory-freeing front has really panned out, but I still have some avenues that I want to check out. The issue seems to be lot objects not being fully unloaded once the lot is no longer high-detail loaded, which causes memory to balloon over time as more lots are detail loaded.

Here's some things I've tried, in typical rambling fashion, a lot of this will be meaningless to 99% of people:

DXVK…. Nooooooo…. It seems like it does increase overall memory usage. I'm not sure if I've just stuffed a config option up or something, but it seems to have a substantial impact. I'd recommend just sticking with d9 for now, or using dxwrappers 3D9On12 (idk if it actually works tho)

HeapCompact/Clearing working set. Clearing the working set will let you save, however it wont actually remove that memory, you'll just crash instead of getting an Error 12

Obvious memory leaks. Sadly every alloc has a free assigned to it, so there's no easy, obvious memory leaks.

Setting D3DPOOL to DEFAULT, game no like, textures don't display

Manually clearing textures. Kind of worked, but there's no real way to selectively know which textures are safe to unload, because the game often reports things wrong. I might revisit this failing everything else

Deleting cache files/save cleaning. Not a fan, doesn't fix the issue, merely delays it and makes your game look like glitchy garbage in the meantime. If you're going to clean your save, just delete the _objects file in WorldCaches and then mark it as read only. The sims one isn't worth the limbless horrors that await you, and sims load in much faster than objects, which can sit grey'd for minutes (or until you save your game and they all load in at once and crash you)

Various config options and settings. I did find some neat hidden options and some useful settings, but nothing that really has a huge impact. I found ForceHighLODObjects which is what I was looking for in my initial performance tweaks post, which basically cures stutter, at the cost of much higher memory usage. Useless until there's an object free-ing fix, and even then probably a very bad idea on maps like Alpine County.

Anywho, that's it for this post. Remember to always save in the map screen!

#ts3 #sims 3 mods #error 12 #sims 3 #another rambling post #sims3

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umbralsound-xiv · 1 year

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Levity.

Folk've gotta eat, even those out on th'warpath. Won' be dippin' m'hands into it unless Bexy says, but i figure th'least i can do is make sure she's got somethin' t'eat when she gets back each sun.

As was becoming his wont, Mattisaux helps himself to the overgrown abode, exhaling at length to the safety of shelter and away from the watchful gaze of the Shroud. The dim shading squinted his eyes which soon darted side to side for anyone, or anything, of interest. "You are here, Bexy?"

Zhav Karahli flicks an ear at the sound of the door, head turning almost right the way around before the rest of her body follows. A woman whose exposed flesh was more scar than skin in places offers a toothy grin, a cookpot of stew simmering away behind her in the flour-laden chaos of the counter. Notably, Zhav's axe remains propped up not far from Mattisaux's boot. "Nah, she ain'. Not been back 'ome yet this sun, but she promises she will." Zhav tilts her head. "Mattisaux, aye?"

Around the time he finished asking his question did he spy a figure by the stove and her mouth thereafter. Rather than responding straightaway, he opted to raise a brow in mild contempt, looking over her scar-laden body, and walked the rest of the way inside to unload a bag he was carrying. "She has told you about me, I assume?" His tone grated with annoyance. "To think I am that much to warn others about."

Zhav Karahli: "Yeah? I mean, y'wouldn't've made it to th'front door if someone ain' know 'bout you. Tall an' broody lookin', Elezen fella, usually dressed dark, sword an' shield. She ain' -warn- me, she told me." She flashes another grin. "Zhav, Warmaiden've Clan Karahli. S'nice t'meetcha."

Again, Mattisaux squinted. "What?" His brow twitched in a pause while he stared at the foreign woman. "Your name is Zhav Warmaiden… Ah, right. That Karahli clan she nearly died for." His eyes scrolled up and down Zhav's frame with more purpose. "-You- are a warmaiden?"

What's that fuckin' look for? 'eard he were a grumpy bastard, but ain' know what t'expect besides. Seems like th'proper sort, 'ow i speak seemin' t'catch 'im off guard. Eh, he can learn.

Zhav Karahli: "Aye? What, you expectin' some big ol' burly Roegadyn're somethin'?" Zhav, despite her shorter stature, is a good deal more stocky than many other Miqo'te. "Aye. An' she did. Were 'er idea. We're grateful still." A tilt of her head perks the only brow visible. "Y'hungry?"

Mattisaux Baschet: "No, I am not hungry." After another sigh, he moved over to the lofty couch at the opposite of where Zhav stood to rest himself. "And with a mouth like yours, you may as well as be the worst Sea Wolf I have encountered."

Zhav Karahli: "Y'sure? Plenty t'go aroun'." Zhav reaches behind her to grab a bowl of something decidedly floury, mixing something with her hands. "Born in th'Shroud. Deep Shroud, ain' see folk much out've it, least 'til recent. S'kinda a… Gyr Abanian… Shroudy… Muddle. Can talk slower 'f it 'elps ya!" She laughs, seeming to find some amusement in the offer.

A quiet groan whined his throat, pushing a corner of his mouth in a slight frown. "Very kind of you to offer. When do you suspect she will return? Or are you here to lie in her place? If she is willing to die for you and your lot, then we both know how careless she is when it comes to protecting people, or in this case hunting them or something ridiculous."

Zhav Karahli: "Ain' know. S'usually after midnight. Been up since a couple bells since, huntin' t'cook somethin' proper f'when she came back. An' i ain' gonna lie." A small frown brings about the truth of her words. "Bexy ain' one t'lie t'folk, direct're otherwise. An' she ain' careless. Ain' say i'd do what she did, given th'reversed roles. But she's survived this lon', aye? She knows what she's doin'. Why y'got so little faith?"

Mattisaux Baschet: "Gods," he breathed not too quietly and tossed a lax hand as he spoke. "I do not intend to confide to some stranger though she -is- reckless and hardly gives a second thought to her wellbeing. She keeps such loutish company, I almost feel worse for her."

Zhav Karahli: "…Reckless an' careless're differen'. Careless means y'ain' give a shite. Reckless… Aye, yeah. She's plenty reckless. S'part've 'er charm, though, an' i reckon folk find it fetchin' -- M'self included, 'mongst other things." Zhav winks. Though, it's hard to tell, considering she only has one eye. "Loutish! Pff. Well, maybe if y'ain' sat there like someone'd pissed in y'porridge, it might be a bit nicer, aye?" She snorts a laugh, picking up a sliver of dough and setting the bowl behind her.

Face like that, y'think i'd insulted him an' 'is mother. Know he's Ishgardian, but y'think it'd kill 'em t'smile. Mist ain' quite as bad, an' Laurent's a delight. Wonder what crawled up his ass an' died?

Mattisaux Baschet: "Attractive, truly." Mattisaux made an effort to sound as flat as he could muster with an expression to match. "Reckless and careless are the same when it comes to her. She is uncaring of her wellbeing to the point where she would throw herself into a fire if it meant saving her shambled family and seeing how you are, I fear I may have learned where she got that side of her from, if you are so close. There is no charm to it, only frustration."

Zhav Karahli: "Then, how'd you become so close t'her, huh? Close 'nough t'know where 'er house is. An' carry 'er back." Zhav picks up a spoon, and slathers a glob of honey into the middle of the dough, folding it in on itself and setting it onto a baking sheet, repeating the process as she speaks. "…She jus' cares more 'bout folk than most. What's a few scars an' scrapes if it keeps everyone else safe?"

The extra detail Zhav casually mentioned rose a brow of his, breathing in deeply just to shallow it out. "Yes, what is a few more scars, a missing leg, a gouged eye, and so on? So what if she gets cleaves or someone caves her chest in so she dies slowly, painfully without anyone to see her last? Gods, all of you are mad. Especially the Miqo'te of this group." He lifted his hand to squeeze at the bridge of his nose, digging into his eyes.

Mattisaux Baschet: "She wormed her way into my life and now I am subject to cretins like you and choice others."

You burst out laughing at Mattisaux Baschet.

Zhav Karahli snorts another laugh. "Oh? An' what, that armor's jus' for show, yeah? Y'wear it for decoration, or you actually bother usin' it? Reckon you do, if y'any help t'Bexy. Ain' you got folk you'd lay down y'life for?"

Mattisaux Baschet: "I see she only told you the barest minimum about who I am. My mistake in thinking you were close in the first place; it seems like she would lay down her life for just about anyone that smiles and gives her the time of day." Huffing slightly, he continued on. "I was a soldier from Ishgard, if you have ever heard of such a thing living in these backwards lands speaking your unintelligible language. My entire life was devoted to sacrificing myself."

Zhav Karahli: "Aye, then y'know too well. Sacrificin' y'self fer those y'hold close. Ain' much differen' t'bein' a Warmaiden in some regards. I protect m'people. S'my duty, alon' with all th'rest've it that it carries. An' it ain' like she gave me a detailed rundown, aye? Not like she an' i've spoken much recent, with 'er bein'… Busy, an' all. Our accord goes some ways back. A deal first, on 'er part. We became friends later."

Mattisaux Baschet: "Your title of Warmaiden is for protecting? It makes you sound as bloodthirsty as you look, though as savage as I expect anyroad." As he settled into the sofa while his temper quietly simmered, he tried to dispel some of it by looking elsewhere in the shaded space. "I hardly care how exactly you two met though it comes as no surprise that she might chase another tribe that I can assume is not her own."

Zhav Karahli: "…Warmaiden. Protectin', aye, when it comes t'it. But ain' even half've, even most've what i do. Every kit born into th'Clan gets a weapon, an' most're trained by me. All weapons? Maintained by me. Armour too, forged by m'own hands if needs be. Huntin' an' cookin' sometimes too, but that's mostly fer fun. Y'teach 'em t'protect 'emselves. An' protect 'em in their stead when they can't." Each of the honey filled pastries are set on the tray, which is thrust with a short shove atop the flames of the fire, which Zhav immediately retreats from with a wary look. She opts to prop herself on the edge of the table, looking over Mattisaux with her single eye. "Ain' enjoy killin' much… Ain' all that bloodthirsty, if'm honest. But good t'know th'look's still there." Only half a grin is given to that, a pointed tooth on black-painted lips. "She owed us. We ain' never ask f'nothin'. But she 'elped us out've somethin' rough. We watch 'er home, her folk when we can, in return. S'the least we can do."

Mattisaux's face did not get any more joyful the closer she came to him, though with her only a few fulms awayand less in the dark, he found he could settle back into the cushion a bit easier. "What did you do for her to have her owe you? Or was it you and everyone else in your overly dependent tribe?"

Ain' know how much Bexy told folk. Ain' really a secret're nothin', just figure it ain' really come up in conversation, aye?

Zhav Karahli: "-Clan-. We ain' Seekers. An' you call me th'clueless one." Zhav rolled an eye, shaking her head. "Y'know she risked 'erself f'us. I wager if y'here, y'know plenty 'bout Bexy. Coeurl an' all. Some folk at th'Clan still call 'er it, but we're doin' our best t'wean it out. Good ways back, we Karahli brokered information, aye? Talkin' cycles ago. 'pproached by a woman Bexy'd scorned some time're other. Figured we'd want 'er dead, like most've th'folk in th'Shroud at th'time; ain' my decision, were m'Matriarch's back then. But anyways. We worked with 'er t'bring th'Coeurl down, right up until this woman started t'get real impatient 'bout shite. Did a few thin's she shouldn', an' eventually we decided t'pull our help, figurin' it were better if th'whole fuckin' thing sorted itself out without our involvement. Bexy were well into 'er killin' by then, an' we weren' lookin' t'make ourselves victims." Zhav finally comes to some sort of pause, and a rare consideration for her words. "We suffered fer it. Weren't too lon' before Bexy learned that we picked 'er side over Lividine's that she decided t'help. We could've killed 'er, if we wanted to, back then. But it ain' seem right, after learnin' th'circumstances."

Mattisaux Baschet: "For someone so unstudied, you are quite particular with words that mean the same thing." After saying his piece, he listened to her story patiently and even waited a few moments to wait if there was more. Then he gestured to Zhav. "This Lividine wanted Bexy dead so she commissioned a -tribe- to do her bidding just for you lot to turn on the woman? And Bexy -trusts- you?" Then a sigh slipped free. "She trusts -me-, I suppose this should not surprise me as much."

Zhav Karahli: "Lividine wanted Bexy dead, aye. Framed 'er, did a stint in a Gridanian Gaol f'it. Ain' expect you t'know how us Keepers an' Duskwight 'ad it back then, but yeah. When we ain' get results as fast as she wanted, y'know, because we didn' want t'get ourselves fuckin' killed, she made a show've hurtin' one've us t'give us some encouragement. Y'ain' hurt our folk. Not f'nothin', unless y'got a fuckin' deathwish. S'somethin' me an' Bexy can agree on, yeah? T'an extent, anyway. But since trackin' 'er down an' doin' 'er in were provin' t'be way more dangerous than thought, -an'- she weren' nothin' like th'Coeurl we knew, aye, yeah, we turned on Lividine. Were some cycles between that an' us talkin' now, an' a lot've trust t'be built. She ain' trust all that easy." Zhav's head tilts up a little. "What'd you do t'get hers?"

A soft hum of understanding lifted his head in a single, slow nod. That was until her last comment. "Mayhap those years back then her requirements for trust was more rigid, however in these days, they may as well be as loose as a whore in Ul'dah… if you have ever heard of that city anyroad. I was simply part of her company; I could not begin to tell you the reason why she continues to place her trust in someone like myself. She is mad these days, I swear."

Guy don' have a super high opinion've 'emself. Huh. Wonder what all that's 'bout. Used t'be part've th'company, but ain' anymore. ...Maybe i'll ask 'er, one sun.

Zhav Karahli: "I ain' fuckin' stupid, y'know? I know where Ul'dah is, an' Ishgard, an' you ain' th'only Ishgardian i met." Her brow lofts, unimpressed. "I reckon it's more'n that. I spent plenty've time at that company house, yeah? S'a good place t'teach repairwork an' th'like t'my apprentice. She's plenty nice t'folk. But none know where she lives, save a few. An' folk know t'keep there hands from 'er. An' 'ere you are, pickin' 'er up like a sack've popotoes. She's probably mad in places, aye. Gettin' 'er sister taken ain' done 'er no favors. I train Sayuri th'suns she ain' train wit' Bexy." Zhav nudges her head in the direction of the axe at the door. "…Ain' born sisters, 'course. But closer'n some born, f'sure."

Zhav Karahli: "Hopefully she'll stop bein' all…" Zhav gestures vaguely with a hand. "…This, when she's home."

Mattisaux Baschet: "And yet you and I know of this place, a scalekin, and a few others I have already seen. It is only a matter of time before this space is even more of a second company home." He rolled both his eyes at her, because he could. "I also hardly believe that my carrying her home means as much as you are making it out to be. She was injured and unreasonably exhausted, she -needed- the help. This entire situation all because her sister was baited into her captors." He shook his head slowly. "That girl will never stop with how she is. She will be relieved, perhaps beyond belief, but I suspect she will be on pins and needles with paranoia. Mayhap she will bite someone's head off to which I would not mind seeing if that head is not mine. I would like to see why Sayuri though. She is a soft little thing, sure, and they both share ice, but why else?"

Zhav Karahli: "Ain' that many folk know. An' i've sat in a tree countin' 'em." Zhav wanders back to the oven, and after wrapping her hands in a towel, drags the tray up and onto the counter to cool. "Y'probably right. I ain' imagine Bexy'll die away from a battlefield're somethin'. She ain' never spoke've old age, an' i reckon she knows. It'll take plenty t'kill 'er, but somethin' will, one sun… Jus' 'ope no time soon. Not before me, anyhow. Ain' know why Sayuri. Ain' as soft as you say. Vicious little bugger when she fights, an' that's jus' sparrin' wit' Zihre. Maybe s'jus' the whole… Companionship? I ain' know. There's somethin' there i ain' understand m'self, but it's clear she's important." Zhav finally settles on moving to the cabinet. "Drink?"

Mattisaux Baschet: "You people keep saying that, it is almost as if you truly wish for her to drop before your eyes…" The conversation soured his glower over Zhav. "You lot also mention how dangerous she is and that she could claw a man's face clean off. Here I thought I enjoy casually exaggerating things, instead I am surrounded by some drama troupe." However, to the sound of suspected liquor, he quieted the edge of his tone. "What does she have? Wine?"

Zhav Karahli: "I ain' wanna be there for th'fallout when she does. I ain' want 'er dead. But i ain' stupid. She won' slow down, won' stop. Always puttin' 'erself in harms way f'the folk she cares about, an' she cares about a lot've folk. Ain' much good wit' numbers, but it ain' take a genius t'figure out where that path goes, aye? M'walkin' it m'self, maybe a bit slower'n she does." Zhav looks over the shelf, eye squinting at the bottles in text far too intricate for her to read. "Ain' see no wine. Somethin' amber though. Sorry if it 'ffends y'delicate Ishgardian sensibilities." Zhav picks up two entire bottles of what appear to be various kinds of spirit, offering one to Mattisaux on her return. "Y'know she's strong. Y'just worried 'bout what happens when that strength fails, aye?" Her words were spoken with some kind of concern, brow quietly lofted.

The small comment about his tastes earned a flat line from his mouth, choosing to ignore it and move on. "She is not strong. She is helpless in more ways than one. The girl merely pretends to keep herself together, and even more so because her sister is on the line." Seeing a full bottle given to him without a second thought, he naturally accepted the offer and worked on popping it open. "And you hardly look like you are working on your grave slowly, if that was even what spit out of your mouth. Those scars rival mine; were you the only one battling in your tribe or some nonsense?"

Zhav Karahli: "She's plenty strong. If y'can't see it, y'more blind'n i am. How'd you think 'er helpless? Y'think she'd have gotten this far?" Zhav opts to kick back onto the small wooden stump, nudging the lantern aside to rest against the pillar. "I've been fightin' since i could walk! Warmaiden since fourteen, an' been in plenty've fights besides. Plenty've us fight. Got a whole Warband. I'm jus'… Th'oldest one there is."

Mattisaux Baschet: "Were you not listening? She can hardly help herself outside of a fight. Ripping at people's throats and snacking on their insides is not what makes a person strong. For appearance, perhaps, though not truly." Only after he took a healthy swig did he continue his line of thought. "She merely enjoys it; the rush of hurting and ending someone. Enjoying your hobby is not being strong, it is just having fun. The only difference now is she has the perfect excuse for it. As for you and your vicious appearance, and axe, you look like the aftermath of an army. Both a won and lost one. Are there others as beaten as you are?"

Each scar's a mark've pride. Th'dead don' scar. Means y've fought f'somethin', won somethin', protected somethin', even if y'ain' managed t'win.

Zhav Karahli: "Aye. I were listenin'." Zhav picks up the bottle, bites out the cork to drop in her hand, and takes a long swig. "Cryin' an' screamin' an' comin' apart at the seams ain' weakness. She's fuckin' scared, an' anyone who gave half a damn 'bout losin' someone'd be th'same in their own way. But she ain' stopped. She's dusted 'erself off in some fashion, an' she's keepin' goin', despite th'odds an' everythin' else stacked agains' her. Sometimes strength's stupid, an' sometimes it's smart, an' i ain' sure i got th'smarts or knowledge've th'situation t'know which it is. But she's plenty strong." Another chug of liquor. "…Eh, most aren' so roughed up as me. But i'm th'Warmaiden, aye? I lead th'charge. Ain' put none of m'Warband in a battle i ain' a part of, unless i ain' got a choice."

Mattisaux Baschet: "In their own way. Right…" Zhav's words hung in the air for a bit, ringing in his ears. In a few more gulps of the spirit, he huffed louder than needed. "You are a Keeper, was it? What battles do you lot find yourselves in? Territorial feuds? Relationship spats? Other petty disagreements that grow larger as time goes on?"

Zhav Karahli: "Aye. Keeper. Good t'know you're listenin'." She gives a pointed grin, nodding to his question. "Territory, at least way back. We were contestin' another Clan fer a river at one point. Lon' and bloody war, plenty've battles. Th'Warmaiden that came 'fore me died there, an' s'where i took th'mantle almos'… Jus' shy've thirty cycles ago. At one point, it were th'Garleans. We're in the East Shroud, Aye? Aye. You ain' stupid. You know what direction they came. Plenty've other shite besides."

He helped himself to his drink, reflexively matching her each time she took a swig. "You fought the empire? Now you sound far too stubborn to die like someone else I know. Is that why half your face is bandaged? And are you normally this open to strangers? Putting aside the fact that you have stalked me on occasion, of course."

I ain' got no reason t'hide anythin' from anyone. 'm asked a question, why shouldn' i respond, if folk're curious?

Zhav Karahli takes another drink, a short wiggle of her ears in response. "Aye? What else were i gonna do, jus' let 'em stomp over us? Nah. Fuck that, an' fuck th'lot've 'em. We held our own, despite our numbers. An' i ain' that stubborn, 'm jus' good. I'll die when'm good an' ready, an' i sure as shite ain' ready yet." She takes another drink almost immediately afterwards. "An' no. We 'ad a civil war some bit ago. S'what Bexy 'elped us out of. Delicate situation. Lost m'eye, but not m'life, protectin' m'Matriarch." Her shoulders pluck into a roll. "Ain' got nothin' t'hide. An' i ain' stalked y'. Jus' noted y'passin' through, an' y'on th'list've folk not t'bother if y'headin' here."

Mattisaux groaned a hum, dangling his drink to and fro while he listened. "I must ask: are you a Coeurlclaw? You do not quite have the look about you and yet your mannerisms are much to be desired. Unless this is what all Shroud Miqo'te are like. All the tribe-ridden ones perhaps."

Zhav Karahli: "Hah! Like fuck i am! I got fuckin' -morals- f'one! What kind've flimsy fleabags that call 'emselves Keepers let 'emselves be run by some stuck-up bastard who calls 'imself King? Pff. Nah, like fuck. Ain' 'ave time f'fancy mannerisms, Ishgard-boy. Whaddaya want me t'do? Stick a dress on an' pull a courtsey?"

Mattisaux Baschet: "With those gnashes and engravings over your skin, the dress would do nothing for you, dear. After the courtsey, I would expect something foul to slip out of your mouth. At least knowing that you are indeed not one of them, I do not have to wonder if I might find you at the end of my blade in the future. I would rather not have a talk with that Bexy over something like that."

Zhav Karahli: "If they ain' keep t'their bit've th'Shroud, we might fin' ourselves on th'same end of th'weapon." She flashes a small grin, which she drowns with more liquor. "Ain' made fer a dress, s'why." A lop sided grin curls onto her lips. "…Bexy looks real good in a dress…" Zhav mumbles, casting her glance away to mutter to herself. "…Even better without it, i reckon…"

Through the wash of the liquor, her accent struggled to decipher itself through his ears. He squinted even harder at Zhav and downed a bit more of the bottle as if that might help. "Any girl can dress well, even in some dresses, I am certain…" He examined her briefly. "Perhaps. That aside, Bexy is the type to take her appearance seriously. Always with makeup, her hair in neat waves, clothes hardly ever disheveled. It was why it was so jarring to see her otherwise, so much in disarray that she needed to be carried home." He quickly knit his brow. "I see you wish to make it plain how little shame you have."

Eh. Maybe he ain' know th'side've her that i know so well. Met 'er as th'Coeurl, who were kinda both. Always dressed well. Reckon s'why 'er stories scared folk more'n those 'bout monsters. Cause she existed, an' she were real. She ain' look like a monster. ...Not usually, anyhow. Seen it once.

Zhav Karahli: "What's th'shame in it? She -knows-! It ain' a secret! Menphina forbid i got a -preference!-" Despite drinking, Zhav doesn't seem anywhere near tipsy; though around a third of a bottle is gone. She just is this way, unfortunately. "Oh -aye-… She always dresses well. Only ever saw 'er in combat leathers f'moons when we firs' met… An' then Mhira called a meetin', an' she showed up all casual-like, an' m'thoughts've never been th'same since." Zhav didn't seem even slightly ashamed for the admission she was all too willing to share. "Better'n 'er bein' over-vain, mind. I think 'er always bein' so proper takes th'edge off 'er more frightenin' qualities… An' makes 'em worse, when y'learn. I ain' care though."

Mattisaux Baschet: "By the gods…" He could not stop from shaking his head. "You fantasize about her in front of me, now I fear you might drop your shorts to satisfy your cravings. Were you any other woman, I would not dream of stopping you though I can only imagine how… you might be. I must remind you that her type lies with the feeble, fairytale-wishing kind of man. One who is soft without a taste for battle."

Zhav Karahli exclaims a laugh, which she fights in aid of more drink. "Aye, i know. Tall an' handsome an' all romantic-like, and she ain' into women. But a woman can -dream-." Her gaze levels almost threateningly on Mattisaux. "An' i -will-." It was a promise. "I reckon all th'dressin' up will go back t'normal when everythin's… Resolved. Ain' heard too much since. But she's still out lookin' every sun. Ain' seen 'er hurt though."

Mattisaux, for once, was at a loss for words. He sat in silence before he managed to pick himself up for the couch and fish through the bag he placed there. Unfortunately, it was next to Zhav. From it, he plucked a few more potions, vivid orange and violet ones for concentrated healing, and a paper package of a rolanberry pastry. "You -must- have a filter when you speak, woman. Even I have one despite my effects to shake it off. It is hardly attractive for a woman, most especially if you are looking to attract other -women-."

...Menphina's tits, he's highly strung. 'Course, i ain' serious 'bout even half've this, but it's fun t'wind 'em up, not that 'e takes all that much windin'.

Zhav Karahli: "Oh aye, an' you'd know, would you?" An inquisitory brow is lofted, as she snorts another laugh, flashing the same toothy grin. "I ain' had no difficulty, ain' i ain' needin' your advice. No amout've fancy talkin's gonna turn 'er t'me, an' i ain' wanna soun' like i've eaten a dictionary're somethin'." Sufficiently amused, Zhav sits a little more upright, putting the cork in the bottle. "Y'headin' out?"

Mattisaux Baschet: "You sound like you have been biting your tongue everytime you open your mouth, much less a dictionary. Yes, I am heading out. Tell her I will stop by again but much later as I could only suffer you for so long. Never have I ever met a woman with a loose mouth like yours. Quite disgusting, to say the least." After placing the few items on the stump, he made way for the door. "You have given me more insight on the company our frostbitten girl keeps though I do so pray you are the only exception to the rule she keeps."

Zhav Karahli: "Oh!" Zhav dramatically lays a hand on her chest. "Y'sensibilities! Even more delicate'n i thought." She laughs, glancing over the set down items, and shuffles herself from the stump. "I'll make sure she gets these, aye? An' i'll tell 'er y'dropped by!"

Mattisaux Baschet: "Gods… Next time I see you here, I might just turn back around. I would rather not interrupt you enjoying yourself in the middle of her floor. Pray, behave yourself."

Zhav Karahli: "What, an' ruin a perfectly good rug?" A brow lofts, grin at her lips, but it's at least… Mostly clear that she's joking. "Oh aye. M'best behaviour." She rolls her eye, flashing him an amused grin before returning back to the stove to tend the stew.

He served as some kind've amusement at least, so 'e's got that goin' f'em. I'll tell Bexy he dropped by! Maybe she'll tell me somethin' why he's so fuckin' sour...

#Muse: [Zhav]#Chapter: [An Apprentice Appointed]#[What We Want Most]#FFXIV #IC #Screenshot #Writing #Textlog

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