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shoyudon · 4 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 .ᐟ

you getting your period during a date

starring. gojo satoru, choso kamo, nanami kento x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, period.

note. I'M BACKKK, i missed my blue eyed king (let's pretend nothing happened, everyone's okay, we're all hahas and heehees) and i missed u all too. anw, hru all?

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"baby, i think i got my period," you whisper at him, squirming uncomfortably in your seat across from him — gojo stopped his movements and stares at you, "can you check if it stained . . ?"

thank goodness gojo had booked a secluded seat by the corner of the restaurant, you slowly stood up and looked down, "oh, fuck. it stained —" a part of you was thankful that the seat wasn't made of fabric, it was a smooth wooden seat.

he stood up and sat you back down, taking off his jacket to lay it over your lap, "wait here, yeah?" he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he bolted out of the restaurant to god knows where. it took him less than five minutes to come back with a pink colored pouch.

gojo grabbed your hand, gently tugging you up to stand as he tied the sleeves of his jacket around you to hide away the stain, "there are a few things you can use in there, baby, come on," and there he goes, guiding you down to the washroom of the restaurant; even waiting for you to disappear behind the door of the girl's washroom.

you unzipped the pouch slowly, taking out the contents: small plastic bag, tampons, winged pads, pantyliners, hell even a spare underpants.

chuckling, you began changing and walked out of the washroom only to see gojo leaning by the door, "oh, hi baby," he greets cheerfully, grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers together, "anything else you need? your tummy hurting already?"

shaking your head, he brings you both back to your seat, which was thankfully still scattered with your own food, "thank you, 'toru. i don't know what i'd do without you."

gojo chuckles softly, raising your fingers to his lips, "'ts my job, baby. i love you."

──────〃★ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

"period?"

you nodded as choso's lips parted in confusion — you didn't blame him at all though. a squeak escaped his throat, and you laugh out nervously, "can i help you with it? what should i do? is it painful? should i carry you to the bathroom?"

choso went on and on with his questions, panic glimmering all over his face, "baby, it stained," he whispers, standing behind you. cursing softly, you try to hide the stain with your hands, as much as you wanted to ask choso to help you to cover it up, you noticed how he was only using a white colored hoodie with no other shirt inside it.

but choso, honestly could care less — he took of his hoodie, exposing his toned body, "here, baby," he ties the hoodie around your waist to cover your stain.

"cho, your hoodie's white—"

"it's okay, baby," he tells you, his eyes completely on you. paying no mind to the people staring at him as they pass by, "we can wash it off, you're much more important right now."

──────〃★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami's always come in prepared, he knows your cycle more than you do — honestly, is that even surprising? he's always kept a few tampons and pads inside the inner pocket of his suit, since you know; cycles aren't really the same every month, either behind or it jumps forward a few days.

"i think i got my period . . ." you squeezed his hand, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand.

"hm?" he looks down, "let's find a bathroom," nanami tells you, tugging you forwards towards the public restroom — still as calm as cucumber.

"do you bring anything to use?" nanami questions softly, and you shook your head in panic. your period was supposed to be at least in four days, not now.

as you both arrive in a public restroom, nanami rummaged through the inner pocket of his suit, slipping a pad into your hand in discreet, "here you go, love. your period's jumped forwards a few days," he murmurs, raking his finger through your hair.

looking up at him, you sigh out in relief, "thank you, ken. you're a life saver . . ."

nanami chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips, "isn't it my job to take care of you?" he planted a second kiss to your lips, "i love you."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader

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restinslices · 8 months

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Everything

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2459

Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)

“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you.

“We're friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for.

“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him.

“Why'd you say that?” You asked.

Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first.

Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts.

The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood.

It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you.

You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that.

The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.

You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind.

You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help.

No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit.

You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker.

The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both.

The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”.

It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed.

Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering.

“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind.

“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him.

“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”.

Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you.

“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head.

He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”.

You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids.

You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing.

“Grover said he spoke to you-”

“Who is Grover?”

“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”.

Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”.

“It's kinda hard not to”.

“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”.

You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”

“I don't like any of my kids”

“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face.

“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”.

“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler.

“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”.

Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”

“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier.

“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”.

“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you.

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”.

“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed.

“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”

“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”.

You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears.

You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things.

“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving.

It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”.

“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something.

All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas.

Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”.

“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was.

“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today.

“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”.

“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer.

You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares.

You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest.

Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over.

Another thing stayed on your mind though.

You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition.

All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching.

But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all.

You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore.

It was a coincidence. That's all it was.

You were sure of it.

At least, you tried to be.

This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.

#percy jackson #percy series #percy jackson ares #pjo tv show #ares pjo #pjo series #pjo angst #percy jackson angst #ares x child #ares x reader #ares angst #idk what else to tag #ares would’ve probably drove off but LISTEN-

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liillyliilly · 2 months

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destiny has to be real kozume kenma x reader content; she runs into him, he feels his brain chemistry change (fluff) 1032 words

[i met you in the crowded city.]

Kuroo always liked to drag Kenma out into the streets of Tokyo, just so that he could experience real life every once in a while. The streets of Tokyo after it rained were always Kenma’s favorite. Because, there were always less people out and he could actually enjoy spending time with his friend. The rain dampens the concrete sidewalks, and the colors of numerous electronic ads flit across the ground.

It had just rained, but some light drops were still falling from the sky. As Kenma and Kuroo walked, he could hear the way the wet ground sloshed against his shoes. When Kuroo said he needed to pick up some flowers for his girlfriend, Kenma nodded and said that he would stay right by the street sign. Pulling out his game console to beat a new level, Kenma leaned against the tall metal sign. The sounds of his game and the delicate drops of rain around him soothed his anxiety about being outside.

Even if he didn’t express it often, Kenma had been feeling lonely, that's why he had agreed to spend time with Kuroo in the first place. His loneliness wasn’t that bad, but he did know the root of it. He needed someone to be content with. Shōyō, while he was nice and played games with him, was oftentimes much too intense to relax with. Kuroo, while he was understanding and tried his best to level out his passionate nature, he was just always expecting something more, something exciting. Kenma had started to think that he would be the only person to understand himself.

All of his thinking though, distracted him. So when someone bumped into him, he was spooked and dropped his console. When he heard the plastic crack, Kenma cringed crouching down to inspect the damage.

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going, this is all my fault. Is there anything I can do?” A girl’s voice exclaimed, and she crouched down as well. Kenma tried to avoid eye contact. So he just mumbled out a response.

“It’s fine.” He scooped up all the pieces and shoved them into his hoodie pocket. Standing up and turning his head to the side, he continued, “It’s not your fault. I blend in.”

“Me too.” Her voice was quiet, but Kenma could understand her perfectly. She stood up as well, shoving her hands into her jacket’s front pouch. Kenma resisted for a moment. Would it be worth it to meet a stranger’s gaze head on?

[it must be predestined, right?]

Meeting her eyes was the best decision he had made all week, or probably all month, maybe even all year. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he tried to find words to say. His hair fell into his eyes when he looked back down. Only to notice that she was holding out his game cartridge.

“Who's your favorite character?” Her voice was a little bit louder, but still held the same hesitance. As if she was holding back from accidently saying a wrong thing.

“What?” His brain short circuited, a pretty girl was talking to him? And she knew about his game?

“I saw that you play, you know, the video game? I play it too.” She had pursed her lips together as she held out the cartridge for Kenma to take. The fact she played it too only made Kenma more interested. Something about her was different from the other girls he knew. She held herself like she was afraid of hurting others, she stood unbalanced because she seemed to be missing a support. Just like Kenma.

The rain started to come down heavier again. Soaking both Kenma and the girl’s hair. Kenma looked around, and found a bench underneath a bus stop nearby.

“C’mon.” He started walking over to the bus stop. When the girl heard the thunder that cracked down she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand tightly. That’s when Kenma’s heart started to race. It was running against itself to get out of his ribcage.

When they had finally sat down on the dry bench, the girl still hadn’t let go of his hand.

She introduced herself with a wrinkle on her nose.

“I’m Kenma.” He said, glancing to their connected hands once again.

She let go of his hand, and Kenma missed the feeling of the squeeze she had forced onto his hand.

“You never answered my question. About your favorite character?” She stared outwards, looking at the cars that drove by, water rolling with the tire before crashing down again. The lights of Tokyo blurred and streaked with a scratchy grey filter.

[why don't we know each other?]

They talked for an hour. A perfect hour recorded in their memories. Everything they said was in the same realm, their own little realm. It was as if they were stuck in time, a bubble enclosed them together under that bus stop.

“Wait seriously? You got lost in Miyagi, but know Tokyo like the back of your hand?” She covered her mouth to hold in the giggles that attempted to crawl out and wrap themselves around Kenma’s entire being.

“Pitiful huh?”

“Realistic. Never pitiful.” She complimented. Her words were like a fresh breath of air. Her words were like getting a new game to mess around with to try and figure out. And Kenma felt like he could spend his entire life playing her game and would never get bored.

“How have I never met you before?” The words escape before Kenma could understand what they would insinuate.

It was what he wanted to say though, including the insinuation. He wanted to ask any sort of high ethereal being why they had held back from letting him meet her until now. Was it a punishment? But then again, meeting her now was sweeter than it could have been. Meeting at school would have been a missed connection. He met her when he was unaware and vulnerable. Just as it should be.

“It’s fate. That you and I were destined to meet now, and not earlier.” She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side, “Sorry, that was really cheesy.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Don't be sorry, he thinks, because I think this is destiny too.

Kuroo had taken longer to get flowers, because Kuroo had taken one look at Kenma and Kenma's perfect stranger- and Kuroo had went home. (He could always text Kenma later he reasoned.)

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #fluff #haikyu!#haikyuu!!#kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #hq kenma #haikyuu x you #haikyuu kenma #lilly contemplates #perfect strangers and romance #i love the hq universe so much i could cry

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nibeul · 2 years

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play "teenagers" by mcr

[id: It's redraw of the chapter 37 cover for JJK with Itadori and Todo standing next to each other in Todo's fantasy where they went to Junior High together. They are both depicted as Blasian: Todo has light skin that's peppered with sunspots and brown locs that are tied back and Itadori has darker brown skin and pink twists that have colorful beads at the ends of them. Todo has one hand up to scratch his cheek while the other is in his pocket and he's glancing off to the side. He wears a black uniform jacket that isn't properly on, a purple shirt, a blue sash, and baggy pants. Itadori also has one hand in his pocket while the other holds onto a pouch, his gaze also skewed to the side. He is wearing a similar uniform with his jacket unbuttoned and a red hoodie underneath. Both of them have bloodied knuckles and are covered in bandaids/bandages and Itadori has a swollen eye. Behind their heads is a snapshot of a building and city view done in orange-yellow hues. /end id]

[id: It's the aforementioned chapter 37 JJK cover with Todo and Itadori in Todo's fantasy where they went to junior high together. They are both scuffed up and Itadori has a bruised eye. They are also both wearing junior high uniforms though Todo's jacket is only half on and Itadori's is unbuttoned all the way. A snapshot of a building and part of a city are visible behind their heads. /end id]

#not a fan of the background (I was lazy) but I do really like how todo looks #love when the image of the character I have in my head translates 1:1 to the drawing #jjk #todo aoi #itadori yuuji #nibeul art #jujutsu kaisen

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bwoahtastic · 4 days

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Little Joey Oscar trying to squeeze his way into the front pocket of a hoodie anytime anyone is wearing one. And everyone getting really concerned about him because he is determined to force his way in. Until someone has a light bulb moment of him being a Joey and his momma would have had a pouch.

Then Lewis sewing up a fluffy little pouch whilst Oscsr looks on bouncing up and down because he's so excited to finally be able to curl up in a pouch like his instincts are telling him to do. 🥺

Oh plss!

Oscar whining and trying unsuccessfully to wiggle into sweater pockets and seeming so sad when he doesn't fit!

Everyone js a little worried for the joey until someone realises what Osc is trying to do! Lewis sewing the pouch while Oscar is jumping around so excited! Lewis putting it on his lap and instsntly he has the little kangaroo crawling in and cuddling up! He is so cosy and purring as he wiggles further into the poucha

#asks #oh deer orphanage

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anemos-orca · 3 months

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But a Furious Requiem of Stupidity

wanderer x irritated!fem.reader

cw: fluff, est. relationship, cussing, cynical themes, pessimism, comfort, not proof read, probaby more qnq

a/n: apologies for my lack of activity, ive had a bit of a writing slump lately :( im still here though, i promise qwq ah anyways, i apologize if this is not a good read

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Usually, Wanderer was home first. He would get there before you almost every day and (im)patiently wait for your arrival, only to put on a cold-front once you walked in. You knew him though, so you knew that it was nothing more than mere instinct- a special little trait that he was conditioned to own due to his less than savory backstory. You were like him in the fact that you couldnt care less about others and what they did, thought, or believed, whether it be about you or not. You were often compared to both him and Alhaitham, having overheard the, "Shes like... if Hat Guy and Alhaitham had a kid," countless times. Admittedly, you knew they werent wrong. Although you had met the Scribe but a few times, you knew how he was, so you knew that you were, in fact, just like him- if not "worse" than him.

Today was a different-feeling day. Wanderer came home just as he usually did, stepping inside and shaking off his flamboyant getup to swap it for a more "Im incredibly poor and could really use some new clothes" look. His ugly, overused hoodie was far too big- the once bright blue sleeves, now washed out and dull, hung below even his fingertips, the hood could cover his face and then some, and the front pocket- well, it was more of a pouch, but thats besides the point- was big enough to fit an entire meal for two inside (a theory the two of you tested, wanting to sneak your own food into the House of Daena instead of snacking on the pathetic, drywall-esque food bars they provided). His shorts were nothing special; though, neither of you knew where they came from. Yes, they were one of the, "are these black shorts yours? theyre not mine, so they must be- what do you mean theyre not yours?" pieces of clothing everyone seems to have.

Stepping into the kitchen, Wanderer was met with the pitiful sight of you sitting on the cold stone floor with your back pressed against the once nicely polished Adhigama wood cabinets. He narrowed his eyes at you, looking you up and down as though he believed you to be a fake. You werent one to miss work, no matter how much you hated it.

"I got fired," you groaned, not even so much as turning to look at him. Your tone was more deadbeat than usual.

"Im surprised you didnt get the pink slip earlier," he scoffed, sliding his back down the cabinet to sit beside you. You yanked on the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over your head to join him, earning an irritated growl from your boyfriend as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"Its a real shame, too," you sarcastically retorted, leaning your head on his shoulder, "i was hoping that one day, id wake up and head off to that wretched place, only to find that it had exploded overnight."

Wanderer couldnt help but snicker at your cynical wishes, "Is that what got you fired? Id fire you if i heard you say that."

"Shut the fuck up and let me finish talking," you said with a growl. Even though you couldnt see it, you could feel that stupid sly grin on his face and those disgustingly dreamy eyes rolling at your bitching. It was normal for you two to talk this way with one another- in fact, it was your way of bonding and the thing that brought you together in the first place.

"The Akadeymia is full of idiots. A graduate student asked me- genuinely asked me," you cleared your throat and began repeating the students words in a mocking tone, "wait, so do i use 'their' or 'there'?"

Wanderer hung on your every word, waiting for the inevitable explosion of, "How is he a graduate student?" and "What was he going to ask next? Which 'to' to use? Which 'your' to use?" with increasing intensity. However, it never came. Instead, you simply shrugged, sighing in relief.

"I ripped his paper to shreds and threw it into the air like confetti before walking out without saying another word."

"So, you quit?"

"No, i was fired."

"You said you walked out without ano-"

"I didnt say another word, but the student, his friends, and the professor had some words. A lot of words."

"Hmm. Im sure they did. People from the Akadeymia sure do have a lot of words."

"A lot of words they dont know how to use. Its hopeless, but its also not my problem anymore. Itll eventually devolve into a nothing more than a joke and a waste of time."

Wanderer was quiet for a moment, taking his next words into great consideration as to not say the wrong thing, "You know, im usually the pessimistic one, but youre being a real downer right now. Even I know that humanity isnt that stupid."

You let out a careless sigh in response.

"There will always be people you meet that are so unbelieveably stupid, they make you wonder how they got past the age of seven," he grumbled, seemingly annoyed at just the thought of them, "But theres also people like you, like us. Sure theyre few and far between, but theyll come to you. Theres no need to sift through the endless waves of brainless idiots. Anyone with even an ounce of self respect will stick out like a sore thumb."

You hummed in thought, seemingly not believing him.

"Dont hum at me. Think about it- its how you me, not to mention those blabbering fools you call friends. Alhaitham, Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh- even though theyll never live up to the bar ive set, theyre still above the rest of the crowd."

You sneered up at him, teasingly smacking him on the back of his head, "You bonehead! If anything, youve lowered the bar!"

Wanderer glared down at you, shoving you away. However, due to being in the same hoodie, he was inadvertedly pulled with you as you flopped onto the floor. He managed to fall on top of you, smushing you down to the floor and effectively trapping you. With a devious grin, he moved his hands up to your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, "Tell me you love me and that im better than everyone else."

You raised an eyebrow at him, "I loathe you and go to sleep every night hoping youll dissolve."

Wanderer narrowed his eyes, his nose crinkling in irritation as he squeezed your cheeks together, "Say it."

"Or what?" You protested in a purposefully bratty tone.

"Or no kisses. No cuddles. No-"

"Alright, alright, damn! I love you and you are slightly above everyone else."

"Wrong. Say it the right way."

"Youre so irritating, just give me a kiss, blockhead!"

"Guess ill be sleeping elsewhere toni-"

"NO N-" you clear your throat, a bit embarrassed that you reacted so strongly, "N-no, i love you, i do, and you really are better than everyone else," you begrudgingly admitted, a slight blush creeping in on your cheeks.

Smirking with satisfaction, Wanderer released your face from his hands and leaned down to press a gentle, loving kiss on your lips, "Thats better. You know, youre awfully cute when you get all flustered and blushy like that."

"WANDERER!!"

He snickered, thuroughly enjoying how easy it was for him to get under your skin no matter how pissed off your expression was. Besides, it was hard to take you seriously when your cheeks were bright red.

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#genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin x y/n #kabukimono #sumeru #genshin impact #kunikuzushi

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waitingonher · 1 year

Note

hi there!! congrats on 100 followers,, could you do prompt 17 for leo valdez? i love ur writing so so much you write characters just how i imagined them

EMMY'S 100 EVENT CELEBRATION

leo valdez + this reminded me of you.

content warning: nothing

authors note: HI THANK YOU SO SOSOSOSO MUCH!!! that really means a lot to me <33 thank youuu

your only regret about joining camp-half blood—besides the lethal quests issued every once in a while—are the monthly cabin check-ups. why chiron had to implement this incredibly useful, yet incredibly stupid system? you wish you knew. well, you do suppose it’s come in handy against your siblings who’d prefer to live in a complete pigsty. but other than that, it’s proven to become everyone’s least favorite day. a day full of cleaning, very irritable campers, and the overpowering scent of every detergent on the market isn’t exactly what someone would want to wake up to.

but here you are, unfortunately put on laundry duty. damn your terribly cruel siblings. they get assigned the fun things like sweeping, and dusting! well actually, those still aren’t very fun but it’s way, way better than doing laundry. the process of separating, washing, drying, and then folding isn’t your ideal way of spending your afternoon. but, the only benefit of laundry duty is that you’re basically completely alone, which also means no one’s there to pester you about your quality of work. yay to no one screaming in your ear about better sweeping techniques!

that’s why you find yourself half-assing the color sorting. you absentmindedly toss somebody’s light pink hoodie into the colored laundry basket. light pink and black? basically the same thing. but your focus comes back as you realize that you’re onto the last basket that requires sorting. you really have to fight yourself from doing a victory dance.

while your focus does come back, it doesn’t necessarily go back to the clothes though as you hear the door of the laundry room slam open. a sweaty, disheveled-looking boy enters, a grin plastered on his face that makes it seem as if he’s relieved to have found you. and he just so happens to be your boyfriend, “babe, i’m here to rescue you from laundry duty.”

“thank the gods,” you toss the sock in your hand into a random basket and make your way to leo. he chuckles at your carelessness before pulling you in for a kiss. you really needed that, “now tell me, how do you plan to rescue me from laundry duty?”

leo makes a face that tells you he hasn’t really thought that far, “um. well, i brought you temporary relief,” he responds, fishing something out of his jean pocket. and out comes a tiny red satin pouch.

“oh?” your head tilts out of curiosity, “did you find and steal something while cleaning?” the thought of leo doing something like that wasn’t totally out of the question. so that’s why you’re a little more confused when he simply shakes his head and offers you the bag in silence.

with the pouch in your hand, your boyfriend makes a motion for you to open it, “okay, i might’ve hyped it up a little too much,” leo gives you a sheepish smile as you pull out two absolutely adorable matching cat keychains, “but they reminded me of you, so i bought them. plus, i also thought they’d make a good gift of encouragement for today.”

“oh leo, these are so cute!” you put the cats side by side and you almost scream, once connected, they form a heart! all of a sudden your hatred for laundry duty and everything else bad in the world washes away. who knew two little cat keychains could have this effect on you? apparently leo did, “thank you so, so much babe,” you kiss him on the cheek, “i swear, as soon as i’m done here,” a smooch on the other cheek, “i’m putting my half on my bag,” finally, one for his lips.

leo’s features form a lopsided, lovesick smile, “wow. if i knew two little keychains would earn me this many kisses, then i would’ve just bought you two real cats,” he says, a teasing tone laced within his words.

you laugh at the idea of leo walking into the laundry room carrying two random cats. as much as you’d love to see that come to fruition, cat hair and clothes do not mix well. you pocket your keychain and hand the other to leo, “you should probably go, chiron would lose his shit if he saw you here with me.”

“wait, more kisses, then i’ll leave,” your boyfriend’s lips begin to turn comically downwards as his brows raise, and you realize what he’s doing: his stupid puppy dog eyes, “you can’t resist this can you?”

you quirk your brow, “oh, i can,” but the way he looks so incredibly dumb and desperate makes you give in, “fine. let’s make it quick.”

#[🍵] emmy's 100 event #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez headcanons #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fluff

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gaasuba · 6 months

Text

Disapproval

please take care of yourself and don't read if you aren't in the headspace to handle a story about abusive parents/cops

AO3 Link

"I'm..." Miles hesitates. He hates how he seems to keep finding himself here, freaking out about a secret he's been keeping from his parents for more than a year and unable to just.... say it already!

"I'm dating... Hobie." He winces, fists clenched in his hoodie pouch, bracing for whatever reactions his parents may have. He had been running countless scenarios in his head, even long before he had decided to tell them, so he's pretty sure he's prepared for whatever.

There's a long, stunned silence from his parents. It gives Miles time to be aware and feel uncomfortable about how they're seated while he's standing, like a performer in the spotlight. The tension he feels growing is finally broken by a single word from his dad.

"No."

His dad's response is.... stupid.

"No? What do you mean 'no?' It's not a question it's what's happening." Even tho he was expecting something like this, it takes a lot to keep his body language polite. It's an effort that is not being reciprocated.

"It's what's about to stop happening." His dad crosses his arms and Miles' heart sinks when his mom frowns and nods along in agreement. No allies. Worst case scenario on that front. That's fine. He can still salvage this.

"Why? What's wrong with Hobie?" he hates that asking this question was necessary and he really wishes Hobie hadn't insisted on being here. Miles thought it would go smoother if he talked to his parents alone, but Hobie was so insistent. They usually backed down so easy the first time that Miles told them 'no' about anything, so how could Miles argue? The compromise was for them to wait in his room, but that means Hobie would be hearing his parents' unwatched words.

His mom rests a placating hand on his dad's shoulder before speaking.

"Miles," saying his name in an attempt at being comforting is infuriating, "we're glad you have other people like you to support you..."

'But...'

"but couldn't you date someone... less... violent?"

'Violent?'

"Hobie's not violent." What else was there to say?

Miles remembers their first kiss, how Hobie had been unable to look at him as they had asked. The words were burned into his mind. "Can I kiss you?" As if they hadn't really been asking 'will you kiss me?' They didn't move after he had said "yes", only looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes, and had waited for Miles to make the first move. It had been the same way for their first time holding hands, their first date, first time sleeping in the same bed, for telling their friends, for being public where the press in each reality could see. They hadn't even looked at his artbooks without permission!

Always asked.

Always waited.

Violent????

"He breaks people's faces with his guitar!" his dad accuses.

"I break people's faces with my fists!" Miles retorts, pulling his hands from his pocket to gesture at one fist with his other hand. But the mention of the guitar makes Hobie's slow cover of Sunflower come to mind and he lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing slightly. He hadn't realize how much his shoulders had risen.

"That's different!" his dad stood, elbows out and fists clenched, causing Miles to take a startled step back. Despite the intimidation, he remains confident when he counters.

"How is it different!?"

"You aren't out there killing cops!" he must have read something different in Miles' confused expression because he adds a condescendingly triumphant, "Yeah!" before crossing his arms again and asking harshly, "You think I don't know what those blue laces mean!?"

"I've told you what their dimension is like! You've seen what injuries Mom's treated them for!" Miles doesn't understand how his dad is struggling with this. He knows how different other realities can be. He knows that cops can be corrupt, even in this reality. He was the one who gave Miles his BLM button!

"And how are we supposed to know any of those stories are true?" His dad's tone had softened, assured that he was close to ending this discussion with a win. But Miles could think of several ways they could know already. They could have gotten footage of the violence against protesters. The propaganda against Hobie. Could have let them visit the community center. But they had never asked!

"If you wanted proof why didn't you ask!?" Miles throws out his arms in exasperation.

"Okay, Okay, Okay," his mom interjects, standing and pointing a placating palm towards each of them, "Let's all calm down." Of course she stepped in before his dad had to respond. God forbid Miles get a win here. He looks away in annoyance, knowing he can't control his expression, no matter what she says next. "We thought you were dating that nice blond girl."

Miles feels like he's losing his entire mind. If he wasn't watchless and glitchless, he would suspect he's in the wrong universe. Since when did they think Gwen was nice? And how did they still not know her name after almost two years!? He doesn't dare look back at them but he manages to stay mostly calm when he replies.

"I've literally never dated Gwen." The thought of dating her had made him uncomfortable ever since that day at Spider Society HQ. He had expected her to have his back, instead she had joined everyone in the chase. She even got close to catching him! The only person who had never been against him, always had his back, was always there for him.... had been Hobie. He thought he had made that clear to his parents every time he talked about it.

"You've never dated and yet we keep finding her sweaters in your room?" his dad escalates again. Miles sighs and isn't able to keep the exasperation from his voice.

"She forgets things at everyone's houses, Dad." But of course that's a wrong answer....

"How many boys' rooms is she sneaking into!?"

"Jeff, please. Focus on Miles," his mom places a comforting hand on her husband's chest before looking back to Miles. "So then, how long have you been together?" Miles sighs again and drops his gaze to the floor, her previous words taking on new meanings. 'Focus on Miles.' 'Focus on what we can be mad at.' 'Focus on blaming him for being afraid to tell us.'

"Since right after... you know. Everything." They hadn't really put a name on it but they understood. And of course it wasn't acceptable.

"That's more than a year!" his dad yells the obvious while his mom gasps.

"Sixteen months," Miles says quietly. It was going to be a bit embarrassing if Hobie had been able to hear that.

"We've let you alone together in your room with the door closed!" his mom says, sounding scandalized.

"So then, why now? What finally got you feeling guilty enough to tell us?" Miles glares at his shoes as if they can change his father's words. Throwing the reason of guilt out is going to make anything Miles says next sound selfish. But he does have a reason, and he isn't going to lie about it.

"You think we're letting you invite him after this!?" His mom asks incredulously.

"My birthday is soon, and I don't want to have to pretend we aren't together like last year." It had been torture. How Hobie had been afraid to touch him too much or for too long. The sad look Hobie would give as a warning when they caught him smiling at them too fondly. They had even brought a single, half-assed combination birthday/xmas gift as a kind of decoy and Miles had to wait days before they could meet up again for them to give him the real things.

.... How he wasn't able to kiss them goodbye.

"What?" he snaps his head back up to stare in confusion. He's about to correct her misgendering when his dad adds,

"We're not letting him back in the house! You'll be lucky if we even let you have a birthday party!" he sounds surprised that Miles didn't know all this already.

"Dad! That's crazy! Do you even hear yourself!?"

"Oh and you're grounded!"

"For how long!?"

"A year!"

"A whole year!? What does that even do!? What suddenly changes after a year of isolation!?" Miles is trying to not cry. How is this happening? Why are they acting like this!?

"That's as long as we can protect you from that pervert!" His father snaps.

"Pervert!?!?"

"Yeah! How old is he anyway!? He looks 30!"

"Thir-" Miles feels like he's going to get a headache. "They're only thirteen months older than me!"

"An adult!"

"Gwen is fourteen months older! And you were fine with me dating her just a minute ago!"

"Whatever! Whatever!" Miles suddenly realizes why they hate when he uses that word. Miles uses it to try and give up.... but they use it to force a win. All this time they've been getting mad at him, grounding him, for something he wasn't even saying!

"I can't believe this. We're going to have to put bars on all the windows." His father rubs his head, exasperated, As he paces around the room, Miles struggles to hold back tears. "But those portal things! We'll have to restrict your watch use. And we'll need to take your door off it's hinges!" Jeff raises and drops his arms, like this is the biggest inconvenience he's ever had. He stops pacing to point stiffly at Miles, "Tell that spider society of yours whatever it is you tell them to get a replacement for you."

Miles feels the tears spill and he can't stop himself from turning invisible. Jeff grabs for him.

"Don't you dare," he shouts, managing to get a firm grip on Miles' arm.

"I wasn't doing anything!"

"Jeff!"

"Let go!" Miles pleads, desperate to not use his spider strength.

"No!"

"Please stop!" Miles turns to his mom with pleading eyes she can't see. "Mom!"

"Mi amor, please!"

"Not until you turn back visible!"

"Oi!" Miles' bedroom door bursts open with the word. A printed shockwave from the door's collision with Miles' dresser clashes against the style of 1610.

"Hobie," Miles breathes. He isn't sure if he means to say it as a warning or a plea, but he's so relieved to see them that he turns back visible.

"Oh come on! What the heck are you doing here!?" Jeff snaps as Hobie steps towards him, a pink border flaring behind their mostly yellow form. It's one of their least threatening color sets to people unfamiliar with them, but Miles recognizes it for what it is: Radioactive.

"Miles loves you too much to hurt you." they grip the wrist of Jeff's hand that's still holding onto Miles, "I don't." They squeeze, the action causing them to shift to their printed style and their border's edges to spike.

Jeff yells as he releases his grip to try and free himself.

"Hobie! Stop!" Miles yells.

They do.

"See how easy it is to stop being a git?" they sneer at Jeff, their border disappearing and their colors chilling out into their neutral look. Miles clings to them, hugging them tight, and speaks quickly.

"I'm so glad you're here. I'm sorry. You were right. I love you. I'm sorry."

"S'ok, love." They wrap their arms around him firmly, "This ain't on you, you hear?" Their deep voice is comforting, and their hold is so familiar that Miles can almost feel the gentle rocking of Hobie's home where it usually happens. There had been so many missions that ended like this and Miles finds himself desperately craving all the comforts that usually come next.

"I want to leave," Miles barely keeps steady as he says it. He wonders where he even found the strength to speak.

"Whatever you need, love." It was exactly what Miles wanted to hear, what he needed to hear. He's stopped crying and he wipes his cheeks on their shirt with a pitiful laugh.

"Take me home." Just saying the words made him feel so much better. It didn't feel like a request or pleading, it felt like casting a spell, because he knows Hobie will make it happen.

Both their spider sense is suddenly triggered with the sound of radio static.

"Is anyone there?" Rio pleads. "This is the wife of Captain Morales! A spiderman just attacked my husband and is planning to kidnap my son!"

Miles barely has time to process the words he just heard before Hobie is speaking.

"I've already packed for you. Let's go."

"What?" Miles is too lost to keep up and Hobie can see it. They take his hand and retreat back to his room, ignoring Jeff's protests. Miles half notices his partially packed room before a bag is shoved into his arms and a portal opens. His parents are screaming but he can't process anything that they're saying. So he listens to the only word screaming in his mind.

'Leave!'

He lunges through the portal, not even landing gracefully, laying on his back and staring at Hobie's patched ceiling. He manages to comprehend the thuds that follow him as more of his stuff being flung from the portal. Forcing himself to stand, he watches as Hobie lands more gracefully than he had, their arms wrapped securely around a box of records. Their radioactive colors look more pink in the lamplight of their livingroom.

The portal closes.

Hobie sets the box of records down with care and a huff.

"How someones like them turned out someone as wonderful as you I'll never-" their words die at the sight of Miles; stiff, his eyes wide, still clinging to this duffle as if it was the only thing holding him together. The sight is so jarring that they shift to monochrome. They snatch the bag and throw it across the room, replacing the empty space by pulling him into a tight hug.

Miles instantly shatters, clinging at the back of their vest as he sobs into their chest.

"I've got you," they promise, holding him tighter and pressing their lips to the top of his head and speaking softer, "I got you, love."

Miles feels something unexpected on the back of Hobie's vest when he grips them tighter, and gasps when he recognizes it. He pushes them back to look up at them with wide eyes.

"He tased you!?" and he hadn't been there to redirect the charge....

"Shit." Hobie swears as they toss their vest to the side. "Didn't mean for you to notice that. I'm fine. Don't think about that now."

"Well I don't want to think about it later! I should have been there to protect you!" Instead he was running away like a coward. Left Hobie alone. Hobie would have never done that to him!

"Tasers is nothin, love," they say with a chuckle, "I'd been fine even if it had made it through my jacket."

"How do you know that??"

"Your playful shocks are more powerful than those mosquito bites." They pinch his side, teasing. It tickles and Miles can't help but yelp out a laugh. "I keep sayin you need to start thinkin with volts more." They were right. They were always right. Miles presses his face into their chest again and, finally feeling safe, all his strength leaves him. Hobie catches him and guides him to the couch.

"Sorry," Miles mumbles.

"Nothin to be sorry for," Hobie assures, kneeling to pull off Miles' shoes.

"Mi amor, no," Miles complains, "You don't need to do that...."

"But I'm gonna anyhow." They toss his shoes to the side before thwipping over the bag they had thrown from Miles. Catching the bag causes them to turn their neutral colors. They must finally be feeling safe too. "Now stop fussin and let me take care of you," they scold as they rummage in the duffle. They find what they're looking for quickly and toss the pajama pants at Miles' face. Exhausted as he is, he isn't quick enough to catch them and Hobie laughs at his fumble. Miles loves that sound. So the embarrassment was worth it.

"You get changed while I put us on a cuppa," they say, standing, but they hesitate with a worried look, "You alright alone?" Miles nods but Hobie still doesn't move, wanting him to say it.

"I'm fine. Promise. Make it peach tea?" his reassurance makes Hobie smile again.

"Of course, Sunflower." They lean down and place a gentle kiss on Miles' cheek before turning to leave across the deck of the boat. "Whatever you want."

Once they're gone, Miles is left with only the sounds of the boat creaking and the lapping of the water. He takes a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the gentle swaying caused by the waves. Unfortunately, it gives him time to become aware of his own body. He still feels so weak, his stomach hurts, and his head is starting to ache.

He changes clothes and starts to look through what Hobie had packed to distract himself. He starts by shifting the crate of Uncle Aaron's records onto the shelf with Hobie's so they would be secure. Next, he gathers all of the duffels against the end of the couch: the clothes from his clean bin with a few of his figures tucked between, the clothes from his dirty bin, his spider gear, drums, markers, and empty sketch books.

Miles can't help but smile to himself. Of course Hobie would think to grab his supplies before grabbing his older works. He wonders what his parents will do with what he left behind. They wouldn't throw it out.... right?

He bites his lip, trying not to cry again.

"Hope I got the most important stuff," Hobie says, snapping him out of his thoughts. They're carrying a full tea tray. "I would have packed more but...." They stop themself. "Sorry." As if they have anything to be sorry for.

"I didn't expect you to pack anything," Miles says, sitting back on the couch while Hobie sits the tray on the table in front of it. "Thank you. You're amazing."

Hobie smiles and turns pink, the pink they only turn for him, the one covered in scribbled hearts and hand written lyrics. "Back at ya, love," they say as they pour the tea. They prep Miles' cup without asking him what he wants, already knowing, and sit heavily next to him. They take off their shoes and toss them aside before kicking their legs over his lap and passing him his cup. Miles breathes in the steam as he waits for it to cool and it helps with the headache.

"After this we should get some shut eye," Hobie says, eyes closed, enjoying the steam from their own cup. "You want the top or bottom bunk?"

Miles snorts into his tea at being teased for his question from the first time he spent the night here.

"Come on, man!" he laughs, "Aren't you ever gonna let me forget that?"

"Never," they say before taking a sip of their tea, the warmth and comfort turning them back to neutral. Miles tries to take a sip of his own but it's still too hot. "I'll stop teasing you about it when you stop wearin logos and brand names."

"And what can I do to make you come up with a different trade option when I want you to do something?"

They shrug, "Probly nothin."

Miles rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He tries another sip of his tea and is thankful it's cool enough. The warmth in his stomach helps with some of the ache. Hobie picks up a couple of pills from a sauce cup on the tray and holds them out to him.

"Figured you'd need some pain killers," they explain. Miles wants to tell them that they're amazing again, but decides he doesn't want to be that repetitive. He settles for a simple "thank you" and takes the pills, swallowing them with a sip of his tea.

They stay that way, cozy and playful, until Miles starts to feel like it's becoming impossible to keep his eyes open.

"Bed time?" Hobie asks and Miles nods lazily, setting his cup back on the tray. They kick their feet back off Miles' lap, turning neutral, to stand and pick up the tray. They set it in a bin next to the deck door before returning to Miles and lifting him cradle style.

"I can walk," he says, but there's no bite to his words. He wraps his arms around Hobie's neck and nuzzles against it. The cool, smooth metal of their collar feels good against his hot face.

"Mmhmm," is their only reply as they carry him to the lower deck. They set him on the bottom bunk and start changing into their own sleep clothes. Miles takes off his hoodie and socks before checking the bedside drawer for bonnets, tossing one to Hobie once they've changed into their sleep pants.

"Skootch," Hobie says, sitting on the bed next to him. He does, taking his usual place closer to the wall, tucked under the narrower top bunk. He pulls the covers up to his chin and breathes in deeply, comforted by the familiar smell. When he feels Hobie's arm wrap around his waist, he takes their hand to replace the blanket, kissing their fingers and hugging their arm.

"I love you so much," he whispers, briefly worried he'll cry again.

Hobie hugs him tight and tangles their legs. "I love you," they place a firm kiss against the back of his neck, "Whatever happens."

#flowerpunk #punkflower #my writing #writing #atsv #fanfiction #Disapproval

79 notes · View notes

cookie-crumblr · 11 months

Text

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 2~

his info: 🖕✨

part: 1 2 3

!!MINORS DNI!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, reader in a skirt, NSFW, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch, slut, ), BULLYING, stealing, use of toys, non con drugging exhibitionism

You make sure to check your peephole before leaving today. You make sure to make it to class early for a seat closer to the front. And by the gods you make sure to bring pepper spray.

You aren’t allowed weapons on campus… but maybe you can talk your way out of it.

“Move it,” You jump upon hearing Ezra’s voice way too close to you and begin to shiver and breathe heavier.

The person sat next to you scrambles to get away almost forgetting their wallet and phone.

He flops down in the now vacant seat.

You remain sternly faced forward. Trying and failing to just pretend he’s not there.

*Slap!* His open palm lands square over the width of your thigh. “So, bitch, what’s it gon’ be”

“Wh-what’s what gonna be?”

“Do you wan’ do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

His friends surround you both…

“E-easy way…” you don’t even know what he’s talking about, but you’re catching onto his game.

He snaps and they lift you to your feet by your bicep.

You comply, though they’re all taller than you and your shoulder bends uncomfortably.

They walk you shamefully in front of the group, pushing you when you start to slow down or stumble.

You’re taken off campus, and to a store in a strip, that felt like a thirty minute walk away.

The name on the front reads, “Tease” in big black and hot pink letters.

Ezra now personally pushes you towards the door.

“What a-are w-we do—” you start.

“Steal five things, go bitch! Go!” he claps and bends over you speaking in a higher pitch as if he’s telling a dog to go fetch.

He shoves you through the door.

Whiplashed you simply stand for a second, before taking a deep breath.

You grab a few of the first boxes you see, and head towards the back. there’s curtain covered changing areas… There won’t be cameras back there.

Glancing toward the counter where a woman reading a magazine, stands, you sigh. At least she doesn’t look like she’d care if you were stealing.

You slowly open the packages you nabbed and shove the toys in your pockets. You wore a big hoodie so as long as a hand is in the pouch you can cover up the lump and the other two are snug in the band of your skirt.

You still need two more things… but anywhere else you could put them would be too obvious.

You spot something labeled “anal plug” and have an idea… It’s a pretty terrible one, but it’ll definitely work.

You grab that, and one more box, then open up the curtain for hopefully the last time.

Your face is hot as you peel down your wet panties…

You open the first box and put the plug in your bum, trying to avoid thinking about what you are doing. A warmth spreads fast between your legs because of the pressure.

The next box you open is bigger than the other stuff you grabbed…

You contemplate for a second swapping it with one of the smaller things in your pockets, but it would be way too obvious there.

You try and push it in.

Struggling to even get the tip in you quietly grunt.

After a solid minute of trying again and failing, you put it in your mouth before attempting it again.

Thankfully it goes in this time, albeit rather painfully. You allow yourself time to adjust, and breathe.

You try and compose yourself before you walk out as normally as you can.

The bell jingles as you exit.

At first you don’t see Ezra and his gang, and you feel stupid. Maybe you could’ve just waited them out instead of stupidly stealing everything and shoving toys inside yourself.

A window on one of the cars blasting music out front, rolls down, revealing him with a cigarette between his fingers.

“Took ya long enough. Show us what cha copped,” he takes a drag, and inspects you from head to toe as you walk nervously over. You stumble a little, still not used to the toy intrusions.

“Hurry up, slut! we’ve all been bored as shit, I wanna get the fuck out,”

You drop the three things into his palms.

“Yur missin a couple a things,” His smirk becomes frigid and sinister.

You lean into his ear slowly, at first he scowls, before realizing what you’re doing. Then he lifts a hand to block your mouth from the rest of the guys so you can whisper freely into his ear.

“Th-there—d-down—there…” Your face is burning hot.

He busts out laughing, “Oi that’s fuckin rich! Hey guys! The bitch couldn’t wait!” He looks into your eyes, some emotion you can’t catch flashing across his face. “What’re ya waitin for? Bend over and show us already.” His voice is ravenous.

Swallowing, you do as instructed. Your legs shake as you pull your panties down again, and pick up your skirt then lean forward, keeping your eyes screwed shut tight.

They all woop and cheer and laugh at you, and Ezra smiles with what looks almost like pride.

He slaps your ass hard, and you bite your lip to stifle a cry. Then he stands to block you from them as you fix yourself.

Smiling at you devilishly, he now leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know… There were packs of gum and shit up front…”

He gets back into the driver’s seat and pulls off the lot, the other cars follow.

You’re left in the dust, with toys stuffing your holes, alone and embarrassed.

At least they threw your stuff on the ground before they left, so you can call your roommate for a ride.

She doesn’t question why you’re stranded, why you’re sitting weird, or even about yesterday.

Class the next day is quiet.

So are the hallways, you don’t even see any of Ezra’s gang.

You’re mid sigh of relief the next morning when he struts into class late, sporting some new bandages.

“Ezra! We saved ya a seat~” A girl toward the back waves as she greets him.

“Hey, Ezra~ last night was fun!” The girl sat next to the first, calls after.

You try and block him out, until a paper ball hits you in the head.

You ignore the first, and second… But at the third you turn to see him making a gesture for you to open them.

The first one just says “Bitch” and you hold it up to him with a question written on your face.

He mouths “The other one” while rolling his eyes.

The next one says “slut” and you almost laugh imagining showing him that one and feigning ignorance. But you think better than to irritate him.

The last one you unfurl reads

“I got ya a present”

You turn to mouth “thanks?” while shrugging, before you look back toward the front of the class, you notice each one of those girls have a hand on his chest.

You feel a small pang of jealousy. Why is he nice to them? What did you do to deserve the treatment he’s giving you?

On your way out of the room you hear him call after you, “Forgetting something bitch?”

You let out a long sigh through your nose, “coming…”

The two girls are the last to leave they wave on their way out.

While remaining seated he lazily extends a paper bag to you. His smirk is annoying and would make you angry if you weren’t still so scared.

“Wh-What’s wrong with it…?” You snatch the bag and sniff it first.

It smells like a brownie.

You open it, and it looks like a brownie.

He laughs out his nose, while watching you, “If you don’ wan’ it—”

“N-no… It’s fine, i’ll eat it!” You interrupt before he thinks you’re even more ungrateful.

You’re overcome with hope that this is him extending an olive branch!

You bound out of the room, making it on time, you decide to eat it before class officially starts.

It doesn’t really taste all that good… But you can’t be rude. He probably just… Didn’t know a good place! yeah.

you don’t know how far into the lesson you get to before you feel something in your guts shift.

You need to leave right now.

Luckily this isn’t high school and the professors don’t care if you don’t ask.

You make it to the bathroom in time to throw up.

The entire way there you stumbled, and ran into the walls. It feels as though you’re on a ship, that’s swaying in the ocean.

What the fuck kinda sea sickness feeling food poisoning was in that sweet? He must’ve got it from somewhere really terrible on accident.

When you leave you can’t stop giggling.

The giggling turns into crying, where the fuck are you? A hallway? it’s definitely the college corridor but… It’s reminding you of a hallway you’ve seen as a kid.

You were so small…

Now you’re…

What are you?

“Hahaaa” you’re laughing again.

You don’t even notice right away when you trip over your own feet, now you’re falling down the stairs.

Someone grabs you before you can truly fall, and now you really can’t stop laughing.

“H-hey thanks” You turn in what feels like slow motion and see a strange guy holding you.

“You can let go nooowww thanks~ hahhh haha” You try and shimmy yourself free, his hands remain firm.

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gauloiseblue · 4 months

Text

Every Day, You'll Hear Me Say

(Kyle Garrick × Reader)

[Fluff | No Warnings Apply]

On the day of their marriage, when the newlyweds were asked about how they met, their stories would be touching. Some loves bloomed at the first sight, some had existed long before they even realized it.

Yours, however, began with a comedic story.

It was early in the morning on Thursday, just one day after you moved to the new place. You were exhausted from all the cleaning and moving boxes, and you'd sleep the whole day if not for your growling belly. You couldn't possibly go too far, so you settle with the sandwich bar near your apartment.

You didn't pay that much attention to your surroundings, moreover to the other customer beside you. So when you heard your name being called, you grabbed the order without looking. It's not until you took a bite that you noticed the mistake.

"I didn't order this." You told the staff, and she furrowed her brows.

"You're Reese, right?"

You nodded.

She looked just as confused as you, before the other staff came and flusteredly explained the situation.

"I'm sorry, we got your order mixed up with the man here. His name is also Reese."

You turned your head to the side, and saw the man she referred to. There was a trace of surprise in his face, but it's been replaced with amusement, for an obvious reason.

You felt your face heated up, as you covered your mouth.

"Oh my God." You stuttered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

"It's alright, you look starving." He chuckled, before he reassured the staff when they apologized.

"Let me buy you a new one."

"No, it's really ok." He smiled, "My treat."

You tried to pay him back, but you ended up with two sandwiches. And one drink.

At the table, you apologized to him once again, but he shrugged it off.

"Don't worry about it, it's just a small thing." He told you, "You should worry about yourself, you look like you could faint at any time."

You rubbed your neck as you looked away, "I haven't slept since I moved here, so…"

"No wonder you look unfamiliar." He said, "So, your name's Reese?"

"No, that's my Starbucks name." You sheepishly smiled, "I assume yours is Reese?"

"No." He softly laughed, "It's also my Starbucks name."

"Really?" You said in surprise, "It's not Reese?"

He shook his head. "Why? Does the name suit me?"

"Kind of." You replied, "You look rather sweet."

You slapped your hand on your mouth as you realized what you just said.

"No, I mean—it’s not like that—I didn't mean it that way or whatever—" You groaned, "This is embarrassing."

"That's alright, I used that name for that reason.” He said, “My friend once did an experiment by asking strangers if I looked like Reese or my real name, and most of them answered Reese." He grinned as he quipped, "One of them even told me that he wanted to “eat me up” because I reminded him of Reese's."

"What," Your eyes widened at his story, before you burst into laughter, "Wait, did someone really say that?"

"Why would I lie?" He smirked as he took a sip of his drink, "What about you? Why did you use that name?"

You scratched your cheek, "It's for a boring reason, really."

"Tell me anyway."

Just like that, your story began with a simple talk.

You'd laugh whenever it’s being retold—either by you or by him. Because your version was different from his, and both of them were amusing. For you, it was an embarrassing day. But for him, it was the best day of his life. You’d kick him under the table for saying such cheesy things, yet a wide grin would betray you as you scold him.

Of course, it’s not the only story worth telling, since it’s just the beginning.

The next story is much less interesting, but memorable still.

On a particular morning, you bumped into him in the hallway. He's in his sportswear, with sweats still forming on his forehead. He had a thin hoodie on him, and kept his hands inside the pocket. You wouldn't look at him twice if the bump in his pouch wasn't bean shaped.

It didn't take long before his pocket whined, which, that itself was impossible. Unless something else was inside that pouch.

"I, uh—I have to go." He quickly fumbled, "See ya around."

"Wait—"

Before you could stop him, he already disappeared behind his door. Leaving you in the hallway, dumbfounded.

Though it didn't take long for you to figure out what it was. Since the smuggled item was quite vocal.

A few days later, as you took a shower, you heard a high-pitched howl from next-door. Along with the lecture from your neighbor.

"I wouldn't do this if you didn't roll in the dirt, Lou."

A loud protest soon followed, as well as a splash.

"Alright." You could hear him sigh, "I'll give you a treat after this, yeah? How's that sound?"

From that moment, the fuss slowly died down, as gentle coos replaced the argument.

"Good girl."

You quietly chuckled, as you washed off the remaining bubbles. While you reached out to grab the towel, the thought of treats came up to your mind.

Maybe the pup would love blueberries.

The next day, when you made your way to your door, you slipped a bag onto his door handle, with a sticky note attached to it.

You could remember exactly what was written in it, but you received the reply not long after. "Thank you for the gift." He told you, as you both retrieved letters from the mailbox, "She likes it very much."

You raised a brow at him, before you caught the context.

"Oh." You muttered out before you smiled, "I'm glad to hear it."

You both stared at each other, and would continue to do so if he didn't chance it.

"Do you want to meet her?"

The question rolled out with a slight tremble, as if he's both eager and hesitant about it. You studied him for a moment, before deciding on the answer.

"Yes," You said, "If you don't mind."

Which seemed to hit the mark, since his doubts were quick to disappear.

You couldn't get why he was unsure at the beginning, but you later found out that pets weren't allowed in the buildings.

The little pup is a mixed breed, with dark eyes and 4-colored furs. She wagged her tail when she saw you, and he had to scooped her up to quiet her down.

As you both settled back, he told you the story of how he found her, while you played with the pup.

“When I saw her on the side of the road, I knew something was off. She was too young to be left alone, and even if she was left unattended, she wouldn’t have strayed too far from the rest.” He said as he scratched her ear, “My only guess is that she’s left there by her previous owner, for whatever reason.”

“That’s so cruel.” You frowned, “Why couldn’t they put her into adoption or something?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “But I suspected she came from an illegal farm, which means she had no birth certificate.” He explained, “Most adoption centers won't accept dogs from unknown sources, and sending them to the shelter would be a lot of work, since you’d have to write the admissions.”

“So they just threw her away?”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t think about it too much. It already happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change it.” He chuckled when she started nibbling his thumb, “Besides, it’s more important for me to give her home. That’s the least I can do for her.”

You looked at him as you quietly observed how he stroked her cheek. If he’s the one who cared for her, then there's no doubt she’s found her home.

There’s a saying that a simple gesture could mirror someone’s heart, and it’s not hard to see when it comes to him. At that time, you couldn’t explain why you had the urge to help him, all you knew was you wanted to. At least for Lou.

Negotiating wasn’t your forte, but after many bribes and sweet talks, you managed to convince the landlord to allow him to keep the pup. You arrived at his door right after you got the written permission, in which you showed him with a proud grin.

“You don’t have to play hide and seek anymore.” You told him, “You have the permit.”

He read the letter carefully, before he turned to you, wide-eyed.

“How did you get this?”

“Pure luck, I guess.” You scratched your cheek.

“Come on, you expect me to believe it?” He chuckled, “How am I gonna repay you for this.”

“You don’t have to.” You added when he’s about to protest, “Think of it as my way to return the favor.”

“Still, it’s too much.” He muttered, “Let me buy you dinner.”

The automatic response that you thought was to refuse him, but something stopped you from doing it. You stared at him in silence, with your mind running miles an hour.

“Please?”

It’s still curious how a single word could slap some sense into you. Because at that very moment, you understood your own feelings.

Oh, You thought. That’s why.

Without further knock-back, you accepted his offer.

The details of what happened during that night are fuzzy in your memory, since your head was swarmed with the thought of him. But you remember walking into your room, with a slip of paper and a loud heartbeat on your hand.

It wasn't hard to see how you'd struggle with a simple message that night. But it all paid off the moment his reply popped out.

Since that day, texting him would be a part of your routine. Whether it's a long conversation, or simply a good morning. Sometimes he asked you to keep him company on the evening walk, sometimes he asked you whether you're up for dinner. On weekends, you'd join him in the park—where Lou could run freely. He'd bring the sandwiches from the bistro, and you'd giggle when you read the name 'Reese' on the wrap.

Months would pass, and all the moments you shared would come to a pause.

It was 9:34 PM when you heard a knock on your door. You smiled as you thought of the suspect, and while you got it right, the mood that's reflected on his face was far from what you expected.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

It took a moment for him before he uttered a few words.

"I need your help."

It was a simple request, take care of Lou, but the way he said it was dreadful. As if he'd be gone for long.

"I can't take her to the dog care because I have to leave now. You can drop her off tomorrow, but please, keep her for tonight." He told you, "Here's my spare key, you can find whatever you need for Lou. I've put the money on the table, you can use it for her daycare."

"Where are you going?" You frowned, "When will you be back?"

"Airport." He looked away, "Got a call from my boss, saying it's urgent. I don't know when I'll be back, it can take a month or so." He shook his head, "If I don't come back… No, forget it. I'll leave it to you."

That night, you could only watch him as the elevator door slowly closed. Despite the haste in his steps, his face didn't mirror the same eagerness.

When you entered his place, you found Lou on the tousled cover. She curled up by the empty space, where the owner was supposed to be. For a moment, you thought of moving her to your room. But you decided against it.

You spent the night on the couch, reading the message he left on the table. He had given you an address to the pet care, along with the money he mentioned. It's still puzzling how he could entrust everything to you—so easily, that you could take it for granted.

You turned your head to the bedroom, where the pup slept soundly on his bed. She had no clue that he had left, and you doubted that she's prepared for it. And if you took her to the care, would she understand it? Would she know that it's only for temporary?

With your fist tightened, you chose to let her stay.

It's not for a noble reason, rather, you couldn't bring yourself to leave her in an unfamiliar place. You scolded yourself for being sentimental, but you’ve been with her long enough that you’ve grown fond of her. One month shouldn’t be long, you could handle it just fine.

And it’s true. One month wouldn’t be a problem for you. Alas, he didn’t come back on the supposed day. The marked number on your calendar had been crossed, and still, no news from him. The messages you wrote were sent, but never received. You’d stare at his profile, as you read the word ‘OFF’ on the status.

Each day, you worry would grow as you glanced at the date. What if something had happened to him? And if he doesn't come back, what would become of Lou?

As you turned your calendar page, you felt the apprehension when you saw the month. Twelve more days, and it’d be exactly three months after he left.

The pup sensed it too, as she whined whenever she passed his door. You tried to overlook her cry, until you couldn’t. You retrieved the spare key from your safe, and headed over to his place.

The room was still the same as you left before, though it felt a little bit colder. You brought the pup down and closed the door behind.

Lou dashed to his room with a wagged tail, as she followed the lingering scent of him. You followed her behind, and stopped on your track the moment you saw her pawing at his wardrobe.

“You shouldn’t open that, Lou.” You stated as you lifted her up, “It’s impolite.”

She writhed around in your hold, before letting out a low whine.

“I know.” You murmured, “I miss him too.”

You plumped down on the sofa, before you rested your head on the arm pillow. The scent of him still lingered on the fabric, and you curled up against it. Lou snuggled closer to you, as she slipped under your arm. You smiled when she began to yawn, you glanced at the clock and caught the arms in the shape of a tilted V.

It’s almost midnight, and you should’ve gone back to your room. But something tempted you to stay, lulling you to rest. To close your eyes, even for a moment. Like clockwork, you slipped into nothingness when you gave in.

At this point, with all the past tense that you’ve used, it shouldn’t be a surprise when the story will come to an end. As cliché as it might sound, he really did come back that night. Although much later, near the dawn.

When you rose up from your sleep, you felt the weight on your body that wasn’t present before. You tried to shift away from it, but it seemed to be on top of you. When you peeked through your lashes, a mass of grey came into your view.

You leaped from the couch as you recognized the cover. It was a blanket, and you’re one-hundred percent sure that you last saw it in his bedroom.

“Good morning.”

Until now, nothing could beat the speed of your stare as you snapped your head towards him.

He was standing by the table in comfortable sweats, with Lou nestled in his arms. There were plates on the table, and you were hit by the delectable smell of food.

“Are you hungry?” He put a metal plate down, before lowering her to the ground.

Still dazed, you ended up answering with another question. “When—” You gulped, “Since when did you come back?”

He turned to the clock, then back to you, “2 hours ago.”

“Oh.” you rubbed your face, and brushed your hair to the back. “Um, sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He offered you a glass of water, and you took it while you murmured a small thanks.

“You didn’t take her to the pet care.”

You lowered the glass after a few gulps. “Um.” You scratched your neck, “I felt bad leaving her by herself, so I took her with me. Besides, you didn’t tell me how long you’d be away.” You muttered the last part.

He chuckled when he caught it. “I’m sorry, I should’ve informed you beforehand.”

The two of you exchanged a look, which you couldn’t look away from. The heat started to rise, as it painted your cheeks in red. There’s something between you and him, something vague but palpable at the same time—

“Thank you.”

You blinked, as the thick air dissipated from you.

“For taking care of her.” He added, “I owe you one."

At that time, you didn't quite catch the underlying meaning of his words. Only years after that—as you laid beside him, with a new ring on your finger—you finally found the answer.

"You told me that the day you realized you like me was the day I gave you my number." He started, as he stroked your cheek tenderly, "And when you asked me the same question, I said I've loved you ever since you took my sandwich. But I only realized it the moment I came home to you sleeping. I was beyond exhausted that day, both physical and mentally. I thought I'd collapse when I came back, but as I walked through the door, all my tiredness just disappeared. In my mind, I was expecting to see an empty home. So you can imagine how surprised I was when I saw you there.

"You might not know it, but your presence means so much to me. I wasn't brave enough to say thank you, for being there for me, so I said whatever's appropriate at that time. But in my heart I knew; you're the one I'm gonna marry."

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #writing fluff is great for your soul they say #it's good for your sanity they say

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