#And the former is ... EUGH

[radmystique]

I don’t give a single fuck that Liam Payne is dead and seeing everyone and their mom glazing that abuser all over social media pisses me the fuck off. I can’t even imagine how abuse survivors, esp maya Henry, are feeling right now.

[heavenly-delusions]

reading abt the barometz in the manga, i thought it was silly that laios said it tasted like crabs. cuz just how right? but then i eat a fruit (cooked like a vegetable) that first tastes like a typical nut but then got shrimp aftertaste (i dont like shrimps) anything could just taste like... anything. wow......

[jerichoes]

every time i think "ok i got over it finally. it is done" something happens just to show me that i haven't, actually, done that at all.

[cocolacola]

i had to spend such a long time researching what vernacular existed in the 1940s just so i could see if alucard could reasonably say this

[roguerogerss]

The President

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.

(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)

-

“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"

"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."

"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"

"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"

You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."

This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."

Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.

"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.

Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.

"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."

"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.

"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.

"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."

"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."

She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.

Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.

"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.

"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"

You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.

"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.

"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."

The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.

"Coriolanus Snow!"

You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.

"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"

You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.

"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”

-

The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.

The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.

You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.

You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.

You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.

"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.

Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.

Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.

"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.

"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.

"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.

"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.

Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.

You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"

"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.

"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"

You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."

"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."

"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."

"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."

Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"

"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."

"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"

You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.

"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"

"And what would my reward be?"

"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"

You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."

He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"

"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."

He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.

"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"

You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."

"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.

His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.

"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."

"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."

"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"

Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.

He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"See you soon, President Snow."

[carbondioxidewater]

Make A Move (Pt. 2)

americanfootballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst

warnings: none so far

word count: 2.3k

(-> Pt. 1) (-> masterlist)

The next week, you didn't hear anything from Sukuna. You thought that maybe, he lost interest in you, but you should learn just how wrong you were soon enough.

You were sitting in class - it was thursday - and the lecture has not started yet when your former jerk of a group partner took the seat beside you. Great, you thought, of course he had to be in the same course as you.

"Hey." he greeted and you responded back. Then it was silent. Eugh, how awkward.

The door was still open when a certain someone walked past it. Of course, you immediately caught his eyes. He stopped walking and smiled mischievously, when suddenly, he saw the guy next to you, his attention now on your conversation. Sukuna quickly realized that this was the boy you were fleeing from when you two first met.

"You know, it was very rude of you to leave me hanging in that restaurant..." Sukuna heard the guy saying.

"Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

He kept eavesdropping, his brows furrowing with every word.

"I can imagine, I would be embarrassed too." were your only words. Sukuna suppressed a chuckle. He really liked your attitude.

"That's it? You don't even want to apologize?"

"What for?" you asked and met his gaze, indifference in your eyes as the guy went furious.

But before he could speak any further, his aggressive body language was enough for Sukuna to intervene. He came up to you and positioned himself behind the chair of your classmate, roughly pushing it back.

"Hey, idiot. Fuck off, will you?" he expressed loudly, cocking his head up in an order to leave. You looked up in surprise, confusion on your face, because why was Sukuna here?

Your classmate was ready to fight whoever it was behind him, but when he saw that it was Sukuna, he quickly dropped that plan and retreated without hesitation. Bewilderement decorated your face as Sukuna sat down on the now empty seat, staring daggers at the guy before turning back to you.

"What are you doing here?" you then asked, still completely dumbfounded by the current situation.

"What? No thanks?" Sukuna smirked, his whole demeanor changing, whereupon you raised your eyebrows in annoyance. He continued.

"I've witnessed your little talk by chance and figured I should rescue you from that douchebag."

"I could have handled it myself. I don't need a savior." you shook your head.

Sukuna huffed in amusement.

"Oh, believe me, I know that. But why should you worry your pretty little head when this fucker doesn't respect your boundaries anyways?"

You stared back at him.

"It is my duty as a man to hold other men accountable when they step out of line. I can't just turn a blind eye to it, you know. It can get dangerous real quick."

You furrowed your brows at his words, unsure if he was being sincere or if that was just his trick to get women to like him.

"What? Don't believe me?" he questioned at your dubious look.

"I don't know yet." you declared, studying him closely.

"Whoa, I feel like I'm being examined. I should warn you, I'm into that." At that last statement, he smirked again.

"You're into being looked down on?" you laughed quietly, not wanting to cause too much noise as the room was still quite silent.

"As long as it's you who's looking down on me." he murmured and you just watched him, eyeing him up and down.

Then he came closer to you, only inches away from your face now. He opened his mouth and his eyes stopped at your lips, staying there for a while before looking back up and narrowing them.

"Careful inspector, if I didn't know it better, I'd think you want to seduce me."

The smirk on his face widened and you groaned in disgust, waving your hands in withdrawal.

"Okay okay, you can go now." And your voice changed to a faked tone of appreciation. " 'I'm safe again thanks to you.' "

He snickered at your sarcasm and got up when he saw your professor entering the classroom, bidding you goodbye.

"See you soon, sweetheart."

And your heart missed a beat.

After class ended, the universe found it necessary to send Sukuna your way again - or more like - send you his way. One time a day wasn't enough apparently, because as you walked down the floor, who stood there in front of the lockers was no other than the popular boy himself. He was surrounded by a lot of people, a few of them were probably his football teammates, as you distinctively heard them talking about defensive strategies.

When you walked past the group, Sukuna immediately recognized your silhouette and followed your figure with his eyes. It didn't take long and he excused himself, quickly running after you. Just as you exited the building, he stopped you in your tracks.

"Hey, are you off now? It's getting pretty late, need a ride home?" he offered, holding the door open for you.

"Hey," you greeted him, walking through the entryway in perplexion, "no thanks, I'm good." Although you were curious, did he have a car?

"Come on, do me the favor." he insisted and you exhaled.

"Do you think you're entitled to a favor now for playing hero earlier? If that's the case, then-" but he interrupted you.

"No, you owe me nothing. I just want to make sure you get home safe and aren't walking home alone in the dark."

"Wow, I have to admit, you're really good at this whole player thing." you mocked him.

"You think I'm playing with you?" he laughed and then opened his mouth to say something else.

"So, is it working then?" he joked, voice deepening in an instant before you hit his arm playfully.

"Just kidding, just kidding!" he held up his hands in retreat.

"I'm not playing, though. I mean it." he confessed after.

"Well, I don't really know you and I don't get into strangers' cars."

"Strangers'? Ouch." he pressed his hand against his chest in feigned offence.

"Good thing I don't have a car then, though." he smiled coyly which left you confused.

"Didn't you just ask if I needed a ride?" you repeated his words and he swiftly cleared up the small misunderstanding.

"I was talking about my bike." he then grinned, pointing to the spot behind him, where the motorcycle was standing.

"A bike?" you sounded surprised.

"Yeah? You ever been on one?" you shook your head at his question while he got his bike ready. But, admittedly, you always wanted to experience what it was like to ride one. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to accept his offer.

"What? You've never been on a bike? Well, then it's your lucky day today. Hop on." he said, but you were still indecisive.

"And let you know where I live? What if I don't want you to?" you smiled, irony obvious in your voice. But Sukuna played along.

"Your tone alone tells me you live in a dorm. Am I right?" Your smile simply grew and that was all the confirmation he needed.

"Knew it." he muttered.

"So you were speculating about me?" you instantly reciprocated.

"Always." he grinned and handed you over the helmet.

"Here, take mine. I only have one."

"What, and let you drive without one? No, I'll pass then."

"Calm down pretty girl, it's not the first time I do this." Pretty girl. Why did that name fluster you?

"You mean taking a girl with you?" you teased. He just flicked your forehead.

"No, silly. Driving without a helmet. So don't worry about it."

"Oh, so you're allowed to worry about my safety but I can't worry about yours?"

"Exactly." he gave you a teethy grin and your tummy fluttered in response. You weren't blind - he was incredibly handsome. There was a reason he was so popular after all, but up until now, you've never really noticed it, always somewhere else with your thoughts. Your two worlds were fairly separated before, so you didn't bother dealing with him.

"You're cute. Now come on, before we spend the whole evening here. I'll drive extra careful for you, promised." he assured you, half serious half joking.

A pout spread on your face and you were still hesitant, but Sukuna managed to convince you eventually.

When you sat down, he told you to hold on tight. Not knowing where to put your hands though, you decided to place them on his shoulders shyly.

"What are you doing?" he asked next and turned around, a puzzled look on his face.

"Uhm, you told me to hold on tight..." Did he want you to hold onto the bike instead?

You immediately drew your hands back in embarrassment, however, Sukuna was quick to grab them with his.

"You're supposed to cling to me. This way, you just bring me out of balance and risk falling. Here, put your arms around my waist."

That's what he said, but he did the job himself, dragging your arms around his strong built. You could practically feel the muscles behind the fabric, it was undeniable that he hid a sixpack underneath it. Your heart started racing and you hoped and prayed he didn't feel it pounding on his back.

The drive only lasted for about 10 minutes, your dorm was near the college after all, and here and there Sukuna popped a question, asking if you were okay or if you enjoyed the ride.

It was nice of him to keep the conversation going, even though it was difficult to hear him at times due to the heavy wind. When Sukuna tried addressing you once more and only a "huh?" escaped your lips, he laughed whole-heartedly, the contagious sound making you break out in laughter too. In that moment, you felt so free and careless, and you were so grateful Sukuna took you with him.

Sukuna stopped in front of the dorm complex and turned off the engine. He looked up at the building and started speaking.

"So, a dorm girl, huh? You sharing a room with someone?"

"Not a room, but the apartment. We have two bedrooms." you answered and he hummed.

When you walked up to the front door, Sukuna waited on his bike a few meters away, wanting to see you get inside. You searched for your keys, but as much as you were rummaging through your bag, you just couldn't find them.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna yelled.

"I can't find my keys." you admitted, panicking before remembering you left without them this morning.

"Can't you ring the bell?" He asked you and you explained to him that your roommate Utahime was still working.

Making his way up to you, he pulled out his phone, apparently sending some messages. He seemed distracted for a split second before he tucked the device back into the pocket of his pants.

"Where does she work? I will drive you there."

"No. No, you really did enough for me already, I'll just walk there. But thank you, for everything." you tried brushing him off to not be any more of a nuisance, but he wasn't having it.

"I wasn't asking, I'm definitely taking you there." he commanded and his casualness about it had an effect on you. It was so attractive, the way he was chauffeuring you around the city on the single mission to make you get the keys for your apartment.

Arriving at her workplace, Utahime went speechless seeing you coming in with Sukuna. While he was busy with the soda machine, you explained her the situation and she gave you her keys under the condition you let her in later. She obviously couldn't outwardly ask you about him in his presence, so you two communicated via facial expressions. Utahime tilted her head into Sukuna's direction, a flabbergasted look on her. You tried your best to let her know you'd clear everything up later as he already neared the two of you, the prominent silence seemingly suspicious. He seemed to notice the weird atmosphere.

"You guys good?" Sukuna broke the silence.

"Of course! Everything's perfect!" Utahime exaggerated and you pressed your eyes together in humiliation, facepalming inwardly. Sukuna mustered her strangely, taken aback by her overreaction as well. After that, he turned to you.

"Here for you. Saw this drink on your table earlier, you must be thirsty." he reached you the drink he bought and both Utahime's and your mouth fell wide open at this action.

"T-thank you." you stuttered a little and Utahime let out a small laugh she failed to suppress. You sipped on the bottle of strawberry-vanilla soda and then stored it in your bag. Sukuna was simply drinking water.

Leaving the lobby, Utahime was the receptionist in a 3-star hotel, Sukuna and you walked back to his vehicle. On your way, he mentioned the weird ambience inside.

"Your friend is a little odd, isn't she?" he pronounced and you chuckled, nodding your head slightly.

"A little, yeah." you agreed, "but she's the best."

Sukuna looked at you with a soft smile, but you didn't see it.

As you sat down on the bike and Sukuna got the helmet out of its case, you've come to a realization.

"Can I ask you something?" you uttered.

"Spit it out." he permitted.

"How did you know I don't have a car myself?"

He lips twitched upwards.

"I've never seen you in the parking lot. But I've seen you walking around plenty. I put two plus two together." He's so attentive.

"Someone's been looking out for me." you beamed.

"Guilty." he smirked and slipped the helmet over your head, locking the straps. You looked up at him with big eyes and he met your glance, his half-lidded eyes observing what's left of your face. The tension was palpable for the both of you and before it got too awkward, he was already shoving down the helmet visor to escape your eyes.

The ride back was silent, but he still watched you walking through that door before leaving.

Soo here's part 2 hehe! Had to make Sukuna a lil' feminist because he's supposed to have a functioning brain <3. Hope y'all enjoy!

taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus , thanks for the support 🤍

[blackberreh-art]

i still think about this A LOT for old man yaoi AU and i really wanna make it properly but bUT!! EUGH SO MUCH TO DO... Bearded Toshi my beloved... the intimacy of All for One, former mortal enemy, holding a razor to All Might's throat while sitting on his lap... hngn

something something 'from hatred to codependency, developed into something sickeningly sweet and almost healthy' i love this au i wish i had the brains to properly write it out wahhh

[lactoseintolerentswag]

yeah reading noir comics past ewoaf. not worth it

Your noir!mj is everything. She deserved so much more than Just love interest laser beam. Like there's so much she could add to the story and I love her

I know!!! It’s insane to just reduce her to only a love interest when she’s such a compelling character. Idk why fun characters who can have agency and will to shape the world and narrative are just never given the chance. It makes for a better story??? But whatever. I have no clue what happens behind the scenes of comic stuff so I don’t even know who to point a finger at LMAO

[astarionsilverbough]

Usually, Halsin finds how excessively messy battle is to be a nuisance. Stoic though he seems in the aftermath, the tacky, cloying nature of blood drying on skin makes his teeth itch - never mind the stench of it, overwhelmingly metallic and musky in a way that makes his eyes water like he’s about to sneeze.

So, understandably, Halsin usually finds the excessive messiness of a fight to be incredibly inconvenient.

Until, of course -

“You know,” Astarion muses as he prowls lazily towards Halsin in the direct aftermath of a nasty tussle with a group of truly ambitious bandits, “when it’s not from goblins, you do make all that gore look so very good, darling.”

The world narrows as Halsin’s focus zeroes in on the sway of Astarion’s lean hips. He’s always so beautiful, his little dawnstar, but Silvanus preserve him - there is nothing quite like an Astarion fresh from a fight. He’s damp with sweat and mist, snowy hair gleaming, that single perfect curl bobbing low over his brow, and there’s an edge to his smirk that sets fire to the primal instinct inside Halsin’s belly.

A low, pleased rumble echoes through his chest as Astarion slides his hands over it and tips his chin up for the rain-slick kiss Halsin bows to give him. The vampire chuckles against his lips, fangs glancing off Halsin’s tongue. Clever fingers sink into his damp hair and the gentle tug Astarion gives him sends lightning down his spine. Growling, he frames Astarion’s slim waist in big hands and holds.

There is no finer armor to keep him safe.

“Nothing,” Shadowheart says, sounding utterly bewildered as she gestures vaguely at the pair entangled in front of the gods and everyone in the middle of a dozen corpses, “nothing dissuades them.”

“I don’t know why this still shocks you,” Wyll says as he stoops to wipe his blade on a dead bandit’s jerkin, “remember what they were like after we defeated Thorm?”

“Oh, yeah,” hum both Shadowheart and Karlach, who look judgmental and misty eyed, respectively.

And as narrow as his world has become - as narrow as the set of Astarion’s hips, to be exact - Halsin still hears enough to say, “no wicked god could stand between us,” and Astarion coos.

“Eugh,” Shadowheart says. Karlach elbows her.

Usually, Halsin is about as disgusted as the former Sharran in the wake of a bloodbath - until, of course, Astarion, who looks at him now like he’s set to devour him and continues to be the exception to every rule.

[blitzy-blitzwing]

live Sentinel and Blackarachnia reaction to their former buddy somehow bagging a well known war criminal and one of Megatron's most loyal soldiers: 😳(ba)😡(sp)

I think they’d both be like “eugh” before Sentinel starts going “TRAITOR!!!! TRAITOR!!!!”

[achelouise]

Together, forevermore

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Pairing: (Yan?)Blade x fem!reader

Warnings: Pretty dark, (at least its the most dark thing I've written so far DONT JUDGe me), blade is not nice here, non-con but no sex

Summary: Someone visits you on your deathbed.

A/N: ...... i may be on a slight toxic writing streak......... I WILL BRING SOMETHING ELSE FLUFF ENJOYERS I PROMISE

imma be honest i dont know if this is considered as yandere but i will tag it as such just in case

Your bones are weary. Wrinkles are prominent on your face, and your hair has completely faded to white.

You savor it all. The way time robs you of your youth, the way you bend to its will, morph yourself into a fragile being that couldn’t continue her adventure on the Express. The way you laugh when you spill a cup, when eons ago you would charge towards the enemy with your spear in hand.

You were satisfied with yourself. You have lived, breathed, and entertained yourself before the curtain fell. You have made friends, enemies, lovers, and experienced the joy and suffering of life. The galaxy is your sky, and the worlds you travel to is your home.

Well- perhaps just one lover. It felt like many, though. You could never forget him, but he is just a hazy memory in your old brain.

To think, a former Cloud Knight soldier would live and breathe without mara- truly, a wonderful end to a blazing life like yours.Granted, you weren’t from the Xianzhou- but to be on the battlefield is to sign up a guaranteed death by Abudance.

Even as the Crew parts, their memories and cherished ambitions lay dormant in your heart- beating weakly, slowly, and closer to eternal rest.

You loved this life, and you hated to see it go. Perhaps this is the wisdom Jingliu was desperate for- to understand mortality, and to understand an end to a life well spent.

You feel your fear of death grasping your chest as you heave, drinking in every breath. Unparalleled joy also envelops you; ah, the precious catalyst life holds for this body. Even as you have withered away, this body still yearns for a little bit of life, still squeezes every last drop, a complete opposite of the mara-stricken soldiers tethering between sanity and mania.

Beautiful. How beautiful this life could be.

You could only wish for the others to feel the same. You hope March understands the beauty of fragile mortality, and Dan Heng’s rest during his rebirth.

Even then, human will never dies. You and the trailblazer have entrusted yours to the Cosmodyssey, greeting the future generation of trailblazers from the distant past. Only this way, would you be immortalized, encapsulated in a beautiful dream.

A soft creak of the door alerts you. You smile, even as you struggle to inhale enough air to speak. “... Can’t you leave an old lady… to her death bed?”

Your voice is grating and unpleasant, but you cherish it all the same.

The visitor doesn’t speak. They walk in slowly, carrying a glass of water. At least, it looks like it- oh, you can’t blame yourself for not recognizing anything with such poor eyesight.

Probably one of the nurses that are hell bent on keeping you alive. You don’t really like them, you never have. Ever since you resigned yourself to an elderly shelter on your home planet, where you could meet even more friends before your end, the nurses have been instructed to keep you alive for as long as possible. Probably because if you do, you can attend more interviews, review more biographies about you and the Legends of Akivilli.

You can’t muster up the strength to retort any more, though. The nurse doesn’t really speak, either. They have a comically large mask on, one that shields their whole face, with only eyes piercing back. You don’t recognize them. Eugh, poor eyesight.

The monitor begins to beat feverishly. You are quite parched, though. No harm in quenching your thirst one last time before you kick the bucket.

As you reach for the glass, memories flash before your eyes. Your mother cradling you, your father holding you tight, your celebration with your friends as you pass your finals, your first arrival on the Xianzhou, your first kiss, your promise for a future with him, your losses, your despair, your fears-

And-

The Express. Your true home, the fondation which you rediscovered yourself and rebuilt yourself on. A place where you will never part, not even in death.

The warmth you felt for it, and the warmth it returned to you will never be forgotten.

You heave as you gulp down the drink. “Thank… you.”

You close your eyes.

Farewell, everyone.

You feel so light. You can properly feel your hands again. The backache is gone, stripped away, and you marvel at the skin that seems to reweave itself- granting you your youth, your past, prime shape. So the afterlife is merciful, after all.

You open your eyes. The birds near the windowsill are still chirping. Nothing has changed.

Wait.

What?

You feel your body reconstructing itself, your bones rearranging and your senses returning. Your eyes grow sharp and your face feels soft. The scars on your arms grow rapidly smaller, and smaller, until they are gone before you can blink. Uneasiness crawls in your chest.

And all the while, strange, delicate branches curl around your limbs, a soft green glow imitating the blessing of-

No. No no no no no no no no no.

No.

NO.

You find your strength to speak properly again. Your voice is lighter, easier to speak with, a voice or a bygone past, and it only nausates you as you grip your blanket. “What did you do?”

You turn to look at the nurse properly, as they finally start to make a sound- a soft, unsettling chuckle, one hand removing their mask.

The cruel smirk dances on Blade’s lips as he gestures to the glass cup in your hand.

Only now do you see the Emenator of Abundances’ blood swimming in the clear water you were so desperate for, only moments ago. You feel light-headed. You feel sick to the core.

You drop the cup, and it shatters on the floor- your skin feels cold, and your brain is spinning. You’re hyper-aware of how the liquid seeping out still flashes with the curse of Abundance, how the birds are screeching, and how Blade is cackling.

You heave, your breaths growing shorter by the moment. You watch as Blade reaches for your face- and if you flinch, he pretends to not notice.

No. You were close. You were so close.

“Why?” you cry, the first tears finally dripping down your cheeks. Blade’s bandaged hands wipe them away, and his dry lips press on them- as if savoring them.

“Did you honestly think you could escape me?” Blade reprimands softly, his empty eyes shining with disgusting, sickening adoration. “You promised you would stay, for as long as you could, for me.”

“You disgusting, wretched beast.” You lament, curling in further of yourself. The effects of the mara have started to settle; your muscles pound hard with fresh life breathed into your body, your bones gritting far worse than when you were of old age, and your mind starting to delude your sight. “I had forgotten you. I had lived, unlike you.”

“Promises are not to be broken.” Blade responds coldly, gripping your chin with sheer strength. You cry out as your skull cracks, only for it to mend itself, in perfect shape, the phantom pain lingering on your jaw. “I watched you blaze a trail for yourself. To me, your life was only moments worth of mine.”

“I married. I had children. They will remember me wedded to someone else.” you seethe.

Blade only chuckles mirthlessly at that. “Your attempts at deceiving me are truly pitiful. I know I was your first and last lover. I watched you fall apart in my absence. I watched your success. I watched how you withered away, and I envied you so, so much. Why couldn’t I feel that happy? Why couldn’t I feel that free?”

His hand ghosts over your neck, a silent warning if you dared to cry for help. Not that you would- you knew exactly what bringing his wrath would entail. Breaking your neck over, and over, and over again, to feel the pleasure of death like his master brought for him.

“I watched you pave a way for yourself. I hated you. I loved you. I don’t know how I feel anymore. Kafka has numbed everything away. But I chose to hold onto these feelings. Only you could give rise to new emotions after my rebirth. And you will be my partner. Together, we will be betrayers of death.”

You shake your head, and you wish so badly that all of this was a figment of your imagination. But it is real. You’ve seen enough soldiers fall prey to mara. You might have only succumbed to a dilated version, but it still tears away at your soul.

“Your playtime is over. Death will never reach you. Not even Nihility can bring you the peace you need. So stay with me.” He leans over, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. Your head pounds. Shapes and colors blend into a mess. Only Blade sits before you.

“Not that you have a choice.” He nips the bud of your ear, his voice soft and stifling. The stench of blood and rain clings onto his skin, and you succumb to the despair that fills your heart. “You will join the Stellaron Hunters. Kafka will help you, as she did with me.”

He leans back, and he smiles, deranged and devoid of sanity, living in his own world of pure delusion.

Sometimes, when you were dating, you wondered what he was before he was Blade. Would he still date you?

And even now, as he seals his promise with a kiss, you think. Would he condone any of this? How would he feel, knowing he has turned into a monster?

You close your eyes. You envision your friends and comrades, who all bear no burdens of eroding immortality, an apology on your tongue.

I’m sorry. I failed you all.

“Together, forevermore.”

[lastoneout]

Wheelchair excitement is being more than slightly dampened by concern that either my insurance is going to deny me and I won't be allowed to pay for the chair myself because I have Medicade OR that the physical/occupational therapist and/or wheelchair assessment people will decide I don't actually need one despite my primary, who again is a former EDS specialist and is very certain my quality of life is bad enough I need one, and turn me away.

Like my mom has gotten a wheelchair through Medicaid basically her whole life and she told me that the assessment people aren't allowed to turn you down, they are ONLY there to help you decide what chair will best fit you and take the needed measurements and make adjustments once it's made, the only person who can decide if I truly need one is my doctor and the prescription is the final say, but most of the stuff I've been finding online about the process is saying the assessment people are part of the initial decision about my need for one and their say has just as much weight as the doctor writing the prescription, and I am sadly WELL AWARE of how anti-mobility aid a lot of physical therapists can be so the thought of getting that far and being shut down is concerning me greatly.

I'm also worried my insurance will only approve me for one of those manual transport/hospital drive ones that are too heavy and weirdly built for the passenger to propell themselves meaningfully on their own...I know I can fight it and one of those straight up will not work for me but still. Also I've heard Medicaid will refuse to pay for one if you don't need to use it inside the house, which I won't need mine for that plus my house is way too small for me to even use it in here at all, and I guess I could lie but eugh I am not good at that.

I probably shouldn't worry until I actually get in touch with the assessment people, and tbh when I called them earlier this year to ask what the process was they told me all I need to see them is a prescription from my doctor so I'm really praying everything goes smoothly but like shit typically does NOT go smoothly for me so I know my ass is just gonna be freaking out and over thinking it the entire time.

I just really need this chair. My quality of life is gone, it's so hard for me to even find the will to do the things I need to to regain what mobility I can because I know it will never be enough to allow me to actually do the things I want to do and I don't get to do anything fun in the meantime so I'm just depressed about this constantly, and I truly do not know how much longer I can sit here and watch my entire life go by without me. I want to be able to run errands and spent time with my family and go to museums and parks(masked ofc) and go to school and it is abundantly clear that no amount of knee braces, pain meds, and physical therapy will get me there, so it is truly cruel and unfair to say I should just not do all that because the thing that would let me do it at all is somehow "bad" for me.

I deserve the dignity of risk. I deserve to give informed consent. I deserve to be treated like the fucking adult I am who is more than capable of doing physical therapy and other exercises at home to maintain my muscles and mobility. I can be trusted to know when it's appropriate to use my aids and when it isn't. I am so FUCKING sick of being treated like a literal child by doctors who insist if I get in the chair I will simply give up and never walk again, I'm almost 30, I have self control, I'm not lazy. Every single activity I have given up, be it work or hiking or walks has claw marks in it, I am the opposite of lazy.

I just don't think I can take much more of my life being denied to me by abled people who clearly think all disabled people are lazy idiots who can't be trusted to make their own decisions. I genuinely cannot take it. If this doesn't work I don't know what I'll do.

(I think for now to temper the anxiety I'm going to write down all the measures I've tried to fix myself(PT, knee braces, rollator, ect.) and why they haven't been enough to achieve the VERY REASONABLE goals I have for myself. Also all the ways my current medical conditions limit me. That should help me feel more like I can actually convince the right people that we are well past the time that this should have been considered. Fingers crossed anyway.)

[petrifiedperi-au]

SLOWLY SLIDING Y'ALL A LIL' WRITING SNIPPET SINCE THIS IS TAKING ME A WHILE FOR SOME REASON. A SNEAKY PEAKY! It may change at some point, but there's a few paragraphs below the cut! >:3

[WARNING FOR EMETOPHOBIA/PUKING! It doesn't go into detail, but just a heads up.]

The crown shifts as he snaps his gaze in the direction of the sound, eyeing the colorful, confetti-filled vomit as it moves across the floor like water. He cringes and furrows his eyebrows, letting out a quiet, "eugh, gross," before bringing his attention back to the shades in front of him. The damage has left them useless; a crack runs from the hinge and stretches all the way to the nose, leaving the former dangling loosely. Chipped pieces of glass and plastic scatter across the floor, and his cringe shifts into an expression of utter disbelief. "I can't BELIEVE this," he says, snatching them up off the floor, "they didn't even FALL that far! OR that hard! Euuuugghhhhhhhhh!!! This is so DUMB!”

"GHHRAAAAGGHHGGBBLEGGGGG!!!"

Dev clenches his trembling fists and throws them into the air with a groan, shouting, "CAN YOU STOP THROWING UP?!" His voice slices through the air like a knife; a faint ringing follows as the echoes die down, and he drops his arms. The glasses slip out of his grasp as he moves to clutch his head, but he pays no mind to them this time as he breathes in and out, shakily. "Come on, focus," he mutters, trying to ignore the rainbows pooling below his feet, "you're King Dev. You can do whatever you want." He takes a step back, darting his eyes across the colorful trail that stretches across the floor, "and you can just tell them to stop." A chuckle forces its way through his throat, "yeah! That's what I'm gonna do!"

[beansprean]

Queening the Pawn Act 3 Part 12

Acts 1-2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Knees up of Nandor sitting on the couch in the library, grinning foolishly and letting out some nervous giggles as he thumbs at his beard with one hand. He says, "So much is making sense now... I am...in love. With Guillermo. I am in love with Guillermo!" 1b. Zoom out; the gaffer's shoulder and the cameraman's head are visible in the foreground and the boom mic can be seen above Nandor's head. They all startle in unison as Nandor suddenly stands up, raising a fist in determination, and declares, "I must tell him immediately!" 1c. Repeat. Nandor sinks back down onto the couch with a shellshocked expression, saying shakily, "On second thought that is a bad idea, maybe. I got very dizzy just thinking about it." The crew relaxes and the boom mic moves back into position. 1d. Close up of Nandor on a bubbly pink background, smiling in giddy joy and gesturing with both hands. He says, "But this is great! I am in love! I feel amazing!" 1e. Close up of Nandor on a cloudy blue background, looking away with his hands closing around his own face, looking embarrassed. He says, "Ohh, this is very embarrassing. In love with my familiar, how cliche." 1f. Close up of Nandor on a squiggly green background, grimacing as he wraps both arms around his stomach. He groans, "Eugh, it feels like there are tiny little bugs crawling around in my tummy."

2a. Reverse shot of the director and the sound tech glancing at each other, the former amused and the latter indifferent. Nandor's dialogue continues from offscreen: "I am getting all vibratey inside and like I might want to be dancing or screaming or doing the cart-wheels. Is this what a love-bug is? I do not hate it." 2b. Close up on Nandor, slightly calmer, as he smiles to himself with flushed cheeks and says, "I have searched for love for so long, but it was with me all the time! So convenient! At last the eternity stretching ahead of me does not seem so lonely. Guillermo will be with me-" 2c. Zoom out, waist up of Nandor looking small on a mauve background. He cuts himself off, frowning, and continues, "Oh...I forgot." 2d. Repeat, the background growing darker. Nandor furrows his brow and ducks his head. "He will not." 2e. Repeat, the background growing darker. Nandor glances around uncertainly, brows lifting into hurt as he thinks. 2f. Repeat, the background growing darker. Nandor grimaces and wraps his arms around his stomach again, grumbling, "Ayy...stupid bugs..." /end ID

[maria-scribbles]

meet me at midnight

summary: new year's eve, 1983. a rooftop, an epiphany, and a kiss that changes everything

wc: 5k

ship: eddie munson x f!henderson!reader

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of drugs and smoking, mention of barb's death (rip queen), stancy (eugh), kissing, the reader being jealous and insecure and also kinda stupid.

a/n: writing stancy made me physically ill. i really do love nancy but i'm afraid i wrote her terribly ooc in this ugh. also, do i headcannon eddie as a saxophone player? yes, yes i do. why? no fucking clue. robin's favorite band is named 'blush' after maya hawke's first album.

-

meet me at midnight

December 31st, 1983

"Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?"

You were inclined to, that's for sure.

Annie Lennox's voice booms throughout the house as you tuck yourself further into the corner you've managed to claim, a lukewarm cup of punch in hand. It feels like the entire student body of Hawkins High is here at Tina's party, bodies jostling each other on the makeshift dance floor and spilling down the hallway like an overflowing sink, even trickling outside onto the deck to smoke despite the frosty air.

You shift your weight from one heeled boot to the other and choke down a sip of your drink, wincing at the alcohol burning its way down your throat. Leave it to some thickheaded jock to make a punch that's almost entirely rum, you think as you abandon the solo cup on the nearest shelf and pull your sweater sleeve down to check the time.

It's not nearly as late as you'd hoped, the glowing green numbers reading ten-thirty, and you drop your arm with a sigh. An hour and a half before midnight and an hour and a half way too long in your opinion.

"Having fun?" Nancy's face is flushed as she squeezes her way through the dancing crowd to you, dragging Steve by the hand.

Absolutely not.

"Oh, totally!" Your smile feels so forced you're sure she'll notice and call you out but it never comes, both to your relief and disappointment; once upon a time you'd been thick as thieves, the best of friends just like your little brother and hers, before she'd ditched you for Barb and left you behind in the dust.

Barb, whose body lies in another dimension, frozen forever at sixteen.

Yeah, you're still processing that last part and you were there, standing beside Dustin as Eleven confirmed Nancy's worst fear, heart breaking for your former best friend as she cried into Jonathan's arms.

(Later that night, when everything was said and done and you were safe in bed with your little brother sleeping soundly across the hall was when you cried for Barb, too, a girl who was kind and innocent and undeserving of her terrible fate.)

Your relationship's been on the mend ever since but as much as it hurts to admit, you'll never be as close as you once were and Nancy's inability -or unwillingness, you think bitterly- to pick up on your unhappiness is only further proof.

"Wanna come dance with us?" She asks, oblivious, and you shake your head, crossing your arms to keep her from grabbing your hand because as bored as you are, being a third wheel would be even worse. You already feel bad for crashing their date by tagging along for the drive here, even though they both insisted on giving you a ride.

"Trust me, that wouldn't be pretty. Dusty says I dance like a school chaperone."

Steve bursts out laughing at that and it makes your heart do a little flip in your chest, even as Nancy fondly shakes her head. "Come on, you're not that bad."

"Oh no, I am." You wrap your arms tighter around yourself as someone opens the front door and lets in a freezing blast of air. "Seriously, I'm good. I think I'm gonna go grab some snacks."

"Try the snickerdoodles! I ate, like ten of them." Steve admits that last part pretty sheepishly and the way Nancy stares up at him with the most adoring look in her eyes makes you feel like you're intruding on something private.

You offer an awkward smile in thanks and with a tiny wave from Nancy, they melt back into the mess of bodies dancing along to Cyndi Lauper, leaving you alone once again.

For no less than the fifth time tonight, you wish Robin was here, not halfway across the state visiting her grandparents. While you might've lost Nancy as your best friend in middle school, you gained another: Robin had also been dropped by Barb and so it was only fitting that the two of you became fast friends, not just acquaintances that sat beside each other in the band's trumpet section.

(You miss Nancy honestly, you really do, but sometimes you think being ditched was one of the best things that's ever happened. You and Robin just click, two peas in a pod, and to you, she feels like the sister you always wish Nancy would've been.)

If Robin was here, she would've already made some quip about Steve and his coiffed hair, or Carol and the permanent expression on her face that made her look like she smelled something bad, or Jason and his attempts to impress Chrissy with his awful dance moves, and it would've had you doubled over in laughter.

She wouldn't let you wallow in the corner by yourself, an outsider looking in, both unwilling and unable to throw caution to the wind and just let go. But she's not here, so wallowing it is.

Being kind to yourself has never been your strong suit.

As if the universe is listening, mocking, a gap in the crowd grows just enough to give you a perfect view of Steve and Nancy swaying in each other's arms and you hate the bitter taste that suddenly floods your mouth.

You have no right to be jealous.

You've never admitted your little crush on Steve to yourself, let alone Nancy: how was she supposed to know? You're not even sure if it's all about him in the first place because sure, you think he's cute -you always have- but you get the same gnawing feeling watching Bradley spin Tina around the room in a playful waltz or Nate stealing a kiss from Georgina under the mistletoe still hanging in the doorway and you can barely tolerate either of those idiots.

It's all so terribly confusing.

Steve twirls Nancy under his arm and then dips her low to the ground, her delighted laughter reaching your ears even over the pounding music and something ugly blooms in your chest. You make your escape before you can do something stupid like cry, weaving your way across the living room and down the hall toward the kitchen with your head down.

…Which is precisely how you end up head butting one of your classmates directly in the chest when you turn the corner.

They give a soft 'oof' of surprise and you're absolutely mortified when you realize it's a boy, not just from the tone of his voice but from the toes of his white Reeboks bumping into your boots.

The same shoes you've heard keeping time in band every day since seventh grade, tapping along to the beat on the riser behind you with the rest of the saxophone players. The same shoes you see at the desk in front of you in third period English, still tapping along to the music that's always running through his mind, accompanied by the furious scribbling of a pencil across paper as he jots down lyrics for a new song.

You wince and keep your head down, hoping he'll just act like nothing happened and go on his merry way and just when you're about to think you're in the clear-

"Ow. You have a hard head, Henderson."

Shit, you think. Of course you had to literally run into the one person you feel like you can't speak two words to without making a complete fool of yourself; something about Eddie just makes you flustered beyond belief and you really wish you knew why 'cause it's, to put it frankly, annoying.

Really fucking annoying.

"Shit." You say out loud, quickly looking up to meet his big brown eyes before glancing away and staring at the zombie adorning the front of his Iron Maiden shirt instead. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention."

"No shit, Sherlock." He teases but there's no trace of malice in his voice, just amusement, even as his ringed hand comes into view and rubs the spot where your forehead crashed into his chest. "You okay?"

Embarrassment burns your face and you cross your arms defensively, firing back with a weak insult you're sure he can see right through 'cause if there's one thing you're good at, it's looking like an idiot all day, every day.

"I'm fine. You're not looking very festive, Munson."

He snorts in laughter and you finally gather the courage to meet his eyes again, only to find him already looking down at you with something behind his gaze that you can't quite figure out.

"I think you're festive enough for the both of us." He gestures to your deep navy sweater dotted with bursts of silver thread that give the illusion of stars. "You look really pretty, by the way."

Your brain short circuits.

Pretty? You're wearing your mom's sweater and Eddie thinks you look pretty?

You're too busy trying to get your mouth to work as the silence stretches on -you'll take a 'huh?' at this point, or maybe even an unintelligible squeak, just say something, you moron- to notice the pink blooming high in his cheeks and the way he speaks in a rush, the words all jumbling together so fast it's hard for your frazzled mind to understand what he's saying.

"-your help, so keep watch, okay?"

Keep watch?

He turns and strides into the kitchen without another word and you end up following a few seconds later, after you've finally recovered enough to get your legs working, at least.

You find him standing by the big bowl of punch, rummaging around the array of bottles littering the island, every so often picking one up to inspect before putting it back in its place with a shake of his head. To your surprise, it's not more alcohol he finally picks up but a two-liter of Sprite and at last you get your mouth to work as you blurt out, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fixing this shitty ass punch." He's not even phased by your sudden question, save for the quick smile he sends your way as he pours the entire bottle in. "Have you tried it? Jesus, Jan would be disgusted."

You cross your arms and lean your hip against the counter, keeping an eye on the door just like he'd asked. "I have, unfortunately. Who's Jan?"

"Bartender at the Hideout." Eddie throws a reply over his shoulder as he digs around in the fridge, yelling triumphantly when he finds whatever he's looking for. It turns out to be a can of pineapple juice and he dumps that in, too, turning the blue punch a pretty shade of green. "My band plays there on-"

"-Tuesdays, I know." You interrupt without thinking and rush to explain yourself, almost tripping over your words when he turns his curious gaze on you.

"Um, there's this all-girl band Robin loves, Blush. We go see them sometimes and end up staying to watch you guys, too, because you're really good-" You pause at the smile slowly growing wider on his face and shake your head. "-but you already knew that, didn't you?"

He shrugs, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he stirs some cherries into the punch, then dishes out two cups and pushes one across the island to you.

"Yeah, I see you there a lot. You're kind of hard to miss when the rest of the audience is just five old drunk dudes."

Your laugh rings in the cavernous kitchen as you push off the counter to grab your drink, tapping it against his when he holds it out toward you.

"Cheers."

You're not sure what to expect when you take that tentative first sip but it's definitely not something sweet and smooth with just the right amount of fizz, the burn of the rum still present but not as overpowering as it was before.

"Okay, so I don't know how you managed to make this shit taste good but you did."

Eddie sweeps into a low bow and you hide a smile behind your cup at his theatrics. "Thank you, thank you. I do accept tips, you know, and all proceeds go directly to Jan so she can buy herself a car."

You smile wider and take another sip. "I'd love to donate but I left my purse at home, I'm afraid."

He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment before leaning forward across the island and waving you closer, dropping his voice to such a low whisper you would've had to move in anyway to even hear him.

"How about I make you a deal, Henderson? Come watch us next Tuesday, slip Jan a twenty, and I'll play a song -any song- just for you."

"Ooh, tempting." You whisper back just as quietly, tapping a finger against your chin even as a weird feeling takes hold in your stomach at his offer. "Any song I want? How about-"

"Hold on, I take that back. Any song but 'September.'"

Your jaw drops. "How'd you know-"

"Because I hear you humming it every day in band, that's how."

"Oh." How the hell does he know you hum that song when half the time you don't even realize you're doing it? You've annoyed Dustin enough to know it's true, after he told you in no uncertain words. "How about I make you a deal? I give Jan thirty dollars and Corroded Coffin covers Earth, Wind & Fire."

He stares at you for a beat longer before slowly breaking out into a smile. "…I'll think about it."

You've always know he has a pretty smile, catching glimpses of it across the cafeteria from where you sat with Robin and the rest of the marching band or in crowded hallways as you rushed to make it to your locker in between classes, but having its full force directed right at you knocks the very breath right out of your lungs.

"it's not a no, so…works for me." You say, propping your chin in one hand and swirling your cup in the other, watching the opaque green liquid spin around like the center of a hurricane. "Why'd you have me guard the door, anyway? I wouldn't call making this sludge drinkable very deviant of you."

"Please," Eddie scoffs, mirroring you exactly. "'Resident metalhead spotted adding mixers to the jungle juice?' I can't trash my reputation like that."

"No, never." You huff a laugh under your breath. "You'd be ruined."

He laughs, too, and you're not sure when it became so warm in here but it's making you want to roll your sweater sleeves up to your elbows.

"See! I knew you'd have my back, Henderson."

The more you think about it, the more you realize you always have. Every time the rumor mill paints him in a bad light, you're there to put it all to rest with nothing more than a perfectly directed scowl because you like Dio, too and wear black nail polish and occasionally play DnD with Dustin and his friends when they need a sub and no one's ever accused you of worshiping Satan for fuck's sake.

If any of them would bother to look deeper than the surface, they'll see what you do, that he's kind and sweet and caring and you know because you've seen him prove it with your own eyes: driving the rest of the Hellfire Club home if they didn't have rides, sticking up for the freshmen when the seniors decide to be cruel, and even now, witnessing him first hand try to raise money for a coworker to buy a car (granted that method might be called borderline manipulation but still, at least it's for a good cause).

"'Course I do." It's both too simple a statement and more than you ever wanted to admit and the way he's staring at you feels different, somehow, different and yet not unwelcome as you stare right back…

(Has he always had that dusting of freckles across his nose?)

…which is why you end up putting your foot in your mouth without even realizing it. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right, yeah."

Something flickers behind his brown eyes but it's gone before you can put your finger on it and he's smiling that smile again, pointed canines on full display as he hastily nods and straightens, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"Do you have the time?" He sheepishly holds up his bare wrist. "Forgot my watch."

"Oh, sure." The sudden change of subject nearly gives you whiplash as you push your sleeve up to check. "Almost eleven fifteen."

"No time to lose, let's go." He grabs a napkin and swipes a few cookies from the counter, tucking them away into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Go where?"

"You'll see." Eddie nods his head toward the doorway and holds out a hand, silver rings catching the harsh kitchen lights. "C'mon, you trust me?"

"Against my better judgement." You tease and his laugh is downright devilish when you take his hand anyway, letting him lead you out into the hall.

You're not prepared for the warmth of his palm or the rough, calloused touch of his fingers or how your hand looks so small in his as he expertly weaves through your classmates milling about until you reach the bottom of the stairs, pausing just long enough to make sure the coast is clear before dashing up to the second floor.

"Are we even allowed up here?" You whisper and while the little conspiratorial grin on his face doesn't do much to ease your mind, the quick squeeze he gives your hand somehow does.

"Nope!" He leads you down the dark hallway with practiced ease, opening the last door on the left before pulling you inside and softly shutting it behind you both.

"I feel like a delinquent." Your quiet voice echoes in the large room, clearly Tina's from the Hawkins High cheer uniform hanging on the closet door and the over abundance of pink, and he snickers as he drops your hand to grab a blanket draped over the desk chair.

"Live a little, Henderson!" He opens another door, this one leading out onto a moonlit balcony -Jesus, you knew Tina's family was rich but come on- and holds it for you as you step outside. It's just beginning to snow, specks of white drifting down silently and forming a barely there dusting on the railing and you hold out your hand to catch one, watching as the tiny flake instantly disappears from the heat of your palm.

"C'mon, I'll give you a boost." Eddie says, tossing the blanket up onto the section of roof that's just a bit lower than the others.

"Don't tell me you shoot webs from your wrists." You joke, warily eyeing the spot even as you step forward and stand in front of him, grabbing the edge with both hands.

"Nah, I couldn't handle the responsibility of being Spider-Man." He moves closer and hovers his hands over your sides. "Still trust me?"

You nod.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is a low whisper in your ear and when a shiver runs down your spine, you blame it on the sudden gust of wind, nothing more.

You nod again.

His hands are big and oh so warm as he places them on your waist and before you know it, you're lifted onto the roof without so much as a warning, the rough shingles cold against your knees even through the thick denim of your jeans.

Holy shit, he's strong.

You don't even get the chance to offer your hand as he pulls himself up with an almost casual grace and spreads the blanket out, each step he takes so confident and sure, like he's done it time and time again.

"So, you sure know your way around Tina Williamson's roof." You carefully crawl closer and take a seat beside him, close enough that the length of your body is pressed right up against his to ward off the cold.

To be fair, you're also the slightest bit terrified of somehow falling right off the edge and it's like he reads your mind when he shuffles even closer and rests his arm along the curve of your back, not quite touching but near enough that you just know he'll catch you.

"Found out I could climb up here two years ago and-" He explains, pointing off somewhere beyond the back yard in the vague direction of town. "-it's got a killer view of the fireworks."

"It's peaceful." The sounds of the festivities have faded to nothing more than a faint thumping of bass and the occasional burst of laughter floating up from the smokers on the back deck. "So for the last two years, every party Tina's thrown, you've just been hiding up here?"

"More like escaping." Eddie shrugs and stares ahead at the snow-covered trees. "I don't even want to come to these things and I'm only invited 'cause I deal. Once these rich kids get their stuff and I get paid…no one really cares where I go so I just do what I want."

You care.

"All by yourself?"

He nudges you with his shoulder and when you turn to face him, that same look from earlier is behind his eyes, the one from the hallway and the kitchen that you still can't quite figure out. "You're the only person I've ever brought up here."

"Really?"

It's cold, the snow starting to fall a little bit heaver now, and yet you're so, so warm under his gaze as he nods, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly in the softest smile you've ever seen from him.

It's like hot chocolate on a snowy day or a cozy blanket on a cold night, safe and warm and feeling more than a little like home.

"I'm trusting you with this, Henderson. Don't abuse your power."

You smile and duck your head, pulling your sweater sleeves down further over your cold fingers. "Wouldn't dream of it, Munson."

You'd nearly forgotten all about the cookies hidden in his jacket pocket until he nudges your arm and hands you two, one of his own hanging out of his mouth and you realize they're the snickerdoodles Steve had told you to try.

For the first time, the thought of him doesn't make your stomach twist or your chest hurt. Honestly? You don't really feel anything in particular, other than the fact that he has damn good taste in desserts as you take a bite of your cookie, perfectly baked and covered in just the right amount of cinnamon and sugar.

No wonder he ate ten of them.

You finish eating in silence but you don't feel the need to fill it with anything other than the sound of your breathing; Eddie doesn't either and for who knows how long you sit side by side, watching tiny snowflakes lazily fall from the sky. They dot his dark hair with spots of white and a laugh slips from your mouth before you can stop it.

"What?" He turns your way and you just shake your head as you reach over and brush some flakes from the ends of his curls.

"The snow in your hair, it kinda looks like powdered sugar."

"Oh, so you think I'm sweet?" He waggles his eyebrows and you laugh so hard you have to lean on his shoulder to keep from falling over. The arm he has resting behind you's now fully pressed against your back and it feels like a live wire running along your spine.

"I never said that!"

"But you implied it." Your breath catches as he gently brushes some snow from your hair as well, the warm, calloused pads of his fingers glancing along your face. "And good thing 'cause I think you're sweet, too."

You suddenly get the feeling you've missed something very very important as you scoot away just far enough to turn and face Eddie fully. Down below, your classmates flood out onto the back deck to wait for the fireworks as the new year approaches but you could care less, all of your focus right in front of you on big brown eyes and tiny freckles and a beautifully devastating smile.

"Me?" You speak quietly into the cold air, the question forming swirling white wisps that float above your heads for a fleeting second before disappearing into the night.

You could elaborate but you don't have to because you know he knows exactly what you mean as his hand hovers in the air between you for a long moment before he finally reaches forward and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I thought I was being obvious." He says, a red hue coloring his cheeks that you know now is definitely not from the cold.

"Why?"

"Why did I think I was being obvious? Henderson, I'm gonna play Earth, Wind & Fire for you!"

"No, why do you…why me?"

It makes him pause, a gentle furrow to his brow, and the way he says your name so softly makes your heart skip a beat.

"Because you're you."

A minute to midnight is a pretty fucking weird time to have an epiphany but you've never had good timing.

"Oh."

It's like something just clicks, the last piece of the puzzle you didn't even know you were trying to solve slotting into place and it all makes such perfect sense you're not sure how you didn't see it before.

"I know you're into Harrington," Eddie says hastily, eyes darting away from yours for just a second before they come right back, wide and honest in the dark. "And I get it if you never want to speak to me again 'cause I just made things super weird but-"

"I'm not into Steve."

You don't know how he makes confusion look so cute but he does, eyebrows knit together and making a little wrinkle in his forehead that's just visible under his bangs. "You're not?"

"I thought I was but…" You trail off as more and more people flood outside, their voices loud and full of excitement as the countdown begins. "Turns out I'm falling for someone else and I finally figured out who."

"Ten, nine, eight."

You scoot closer, sitting on your knees so your face is level with his when you reach out to brush some more snow from his hair, letting your fingers graze over his cheek like the ghost of a kiss. "Sorry it took me so long to catch up."

"Seven, six, five."

"Oh. It's okay." He sputters, a brilliant red flush slowly crawling up his neck like ivy. "I mean, I've liked you for a while now, ever since you joined the band when I was in eighth grade-"

"Four."

"-and you sat in front of me with your trumpet, wearing a Judas Priest shirt and I-"

"Eddie?" You interrupt because as much as you want to hear the rest of his story, you've got a more important thing on your mind.

"Three."

"Yeah?"

"Two."

"Please stop talking."

His jaw snaps shut almost comically and he watches with those wide eyes of his as you slowly cup his face in your hands.

"One."

The clock strikes midnight. The first firework shoots off from downtown and explodes in a brilliant flash of shimmering gold in the inky black sky. And you lean forward and kiss Eddie Munson.

The fireworks overhead are nothing compared to the ones you feel when he responds to your kiss with one of his own, his lips soft and sure under yours as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

He tastes like cinnamon sugar, spicy and sweet, and you can't get enough of him, of his warmth and his fingers sliding into your hair and the noise he makes low in his throat when you part your lips under his.

Kissing him is addicting, intoxicating. It's all you've ever wanted.

He's all you ever wanted.

You were just too blind to see it.

He's all you can see now when you finally part, all swollen lips and flushed cheeks and a smile that would've taken your breath if you had any left to give. The fireworks are long over but you don't even care that you missed the whole show as you lean forward to press your forehead against his.

"So, eighth grade, huh?" You ask and Eddie nods, rolling a strand of your hair between his thumb and pointer finger.

"You were humming 'Highway to Hell' and had holes in your jeans. And when I heard you talking about learning to play DnD for your little brother? That was it for me."

"I was nervous when I first joined band 'cause I had trouble staying on beat. I was so scared they were gonna kick me out." You say and when a snowflake lands on his cheek, you wipe it away with your thumb. "But I heard you tapping your foot behind me and you helped me keep time. Without you, I don't even know if I'd still be playing."

He tucks your hair behind your ear before taking your cold hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles, his touch so soft and sweet it makes your head spin.

"Your hands are freezing."

"I don't want to go home yet."

You could stay like this forever with him and when he leans forward to press his lips to yours, you know he feels the same.

"Where to then?"

He's never looked more beautiful to you, his pretty brown eyes blown wide and full of affection and reflecting the shimmer of the stars overhead and a slow smile creeps onto your lips when you weave your fingers between his.

"Surprise me. I'm all yours."

An adorable pink blush sweeps across his nose as he pulls you in for another kiss and you know without a doubt you're speaking the truth.

You know you mean every word.

[manicplank]

(Modern tech Anon here, finally confident enough to ask with my account LMAO) For the non-human characters, what would their reaction be to suddenly being human? For those who are already human, what about their reactions to their now-human friends? (I may or may not be writing a story based on this very concept lol)

Hello former anon!

Suddenly being human! (This one is long so buckle up.)

Pepperman: He woke up feeling really weird. He looks in the mirror and screams loud enough to cause tsunamis. WHO IS THAT?? WHY IS HE COPYING EVERY MOVEMENT HE MAKES???!?!?! Oh, wait... Is that HIM?? Huh... He flexes his muscles and ends up staring at himself for hours. Niiiice. This gives him an idea! He makes a statue of his human greatness as well as a painting. He went out for a walk around the tower in his fanciest clothes. "See something you like?" People in the tower are SHOCKED. This weird strange pepper is now a handsome hunk of human! Pizzahead wants to "talk to him" in another room. (wink wink) Just kidding! He explains the anomaly situation and offers to change him back to normal, but Pepperman wants one day of being a human.

The Vigilante: He went to Noisette's Café in the morning to get his usual cup of hot, bitter black coffee. However, when he walked in, she screamed. He was incredibly confused. "WHO ARE YOU, MONSTER MAN," she yelled at him. "Noisette, it's me! Vigi! 'Member?" She screams again. He goes into the restroom and looks in the mirror. "HOLY CHEESUS CRUST IN HEAVEN! CALL THE PRIEST! I'VE BEEN CHANGED INTO A WEREHUMAN!!" He goes home and hides. He's absolutely terrified. The Noise busts in to see what Vigi did to Noisette and why she was crying. When The Noise saw him, he laughed and took a picture. He showed the ENTIRE tower, and The Vigilante was so embarrassed. Pizzahead came to the rescue. He explained that there's some sort of weird anomaly going around the tower that's been turning people into humans. He takes him back to the lab and turns him back to normal. Phew! That was scary.

The Noise: He woke up, used the bathroom, and went to go brush his teeth. As he did, he was staring himself in the mirror. Something looked... different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Hey, Noisette? Can you come in here for a minute?" Noisette enters the room to see her boyfriend is suddenly taller with a smaller nose and normal ears. "Uh... Noisey," she clears her throat, "are you feeling okay? You look kind of weird..." He looks back in the mirror. Huh... That's strange... He looks... Human?? Whatever, he figures, it's too early for this shit. He tries to get ready for the day, but his clothes don't fit the same, especially not his costume. Noisette stares at him with conflict in her eyes. She's concerned that her boyfriend looks so different, but... He's kind of fine. Noise dresses himself in whatever clothes he can squeeze into and storms over to the lab. Pizzahead is shocked. The anomaly keeps moving from person to person. The Noise was pissed and damn near assaulted Pizzahead. Thankfully, Pizzahead threw him in a tube and turned him back to normal before he could throw a punch.

Noisette: After that whole fiasco with The Noise becoming human, she was ready to put everything behind and go to bed. However, when she wakes up in the morning, she looks in the mirror to find that the exact same thing happened to her! She screeches loud enough to wake The Noise up. He rubs over to her in a panic but is disappointed when he sees that she's completely okay. "WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO PEOPLE," she shouts. He sighs and grabs her hand. "Come on," he mumbles tiredly, "let's go see Pizzahead." They get to the lab, and Pizzahead is not amused. He's frustrated that this anomaly keeps spreading from place to place. He can't seem to catch it. He throws her in a tube and snaps his fingers. Boop! Back to normal. She squeals with joy! She grabs Noise by the hand. "Okay, let's go home and go back to sleep!"

Fake Peppino: Eugh... He feels kind of weird today... He tried to catch a fly with his tongue, but it wouldn't stretch out. Weird... He tried to crawl in the vent, but he was too chunky to fit! Weird! He gives out a frustrated groan only to sound line a normal person! He screams bloody murder. Pizzahead hears him and figures it's just Peppino. Fakey manages to escape Bruno's and races to find Pizzahead. He bursts into the lab at Mach 3, startling Pizzahead. Fakey points and screams. Pizzahead is confused. "Peppino? I don't understand, the timers should've started as soon as you entered the War level!" Fakey screams again and jumps up and down, flailing his arms. "Fakey?? Is that... Is that YOU?!" Pizzahead scoops him up and throws him in a tube without hesitation. However, it takes a few hours for Fakey to return to his normal, goopy self.

Pizzaface: Huh... His gears aren't grinding today, but he's still moving. He feels weird. Something is off... He goes to Pizzahead immediately. "What did you do to me now," he shouted. Pizzahead was just as shocked as he was. "Uh, ok so," Pizzahead clears his throat, "there's this weird anomaly thing going around turning people into humans. I guess it managed to turn you into one, too. So uh... Get in the tube, and I'll fix you up! Hopefully..." Pizzaface gives him a scowl. "You haven't even TRIED fixing the anomaly, have you?" Pizzahead puts his head down in shame. He hasn't done anything about the anomaly other than turn people back into what they're supposed to be. Shun. Pizzaface gets into the tube, and BOOM! Once he's turned back into a machine, he burst the tube as he was too big to fit. Whoops. He flies off in a huff.

Pizzahead: Before he goes to bed, he thinks about the anomaly. It's so strange to him. Is it a curse? A blessing? Is it some sort of strange deity possessing people? He's starting to get frustrated. What is it, why is it, and what can he do to stop it? He sighs and lays down. He wakes up in the morning less ticky than usual. Oh my GOD! It got him! The anomaly has finally caught up to him. While he should be concerned, he is delighted. He's always wondered what it's like to be a human. He doesn't entirely recognize himself, but he's in awe. He's still obsessed with his own appearance. He can finally experiment and figure out what this anomaly is all about! Once he gets to the lab, he blanks out. What is he even supposed to do other than fix himself? Hmmm.... Oh well! He figures he can experiment with it on whoever gets it next. In the meantime, he's already had enough of being a human, it sucks! He presses a button and hops into the tube. POOF! Ahhh, back to normal.

Pillar John: He had dozed off out of boredom due to the fact that he can't do anything or go anywhere. However, the tower starts rumbling and wakes him up. Huh... How did the roof vet all the way up there? He sits up to find that he suddenly has human legs. Wait... WAIT... Uh oh... Without him supporting the tower, it's starting to crumble. As much as he'd like to look into this whole being human thing, he's panicking! Pizzahead runs over to him. GOD DAMN IT, IT'S THE ANOMALY! He grabs John and rushes to the lab. He has to be fixed before the tower collapses! He literally THROWS John into a tube and presses the button a million times. Poof! He's a pillar! Hooray! Wait... How's he gonna get John back to the main spot? Hmmm. POOF! He's a human again. "John! Grab that tube, and let's go!" The two rush back to the soft spot of the tower. POOF! Once again, he's a pillar supporting the weight of the tower. Phew! Wait... He totally missed his chance to escape!

Gerome: POOF! He wasn't even sleeping when it happened. Suddenly, within a blink, he was just taller. He was unamused. Whatever. He couldn't care less. He has weird human legs and arms. Again, doesn't care. He just keeps mopping the same spot over and over again. The tower is so FILTHY. Pizzahead pops by. Yep, Gerome's a human just as he suspected. He throws a tube at him. BANG! While it hurt, Gerome was once again made of stone. Cool. Still doesn't care.

-

This one was fun