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purplesannnieee · 1 month

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Lay All Your Love On Me

A/n: Currently, I'm caught up on all the ep in tdb, though I still haven't got Jiro's personality, so I heavily apologize if I do him wrong @sunncat! This literally doesn't help either bc I haven't watched Demon Slayer, so I don't fully know Shinobu other than some vids I watched from Tik Tok 💀. I hope you enjoy this though! And I really do apologize for when you read this, it isn't how you thought it would go TT (I also apologize the fact that it's a bit rushed(?)), 1.4k words, somewhat grammar checked, or technically partially proof read? goodnight cheese

summary: as a second year at darkwick academy, you used to be under vagastrom before transferring to mortkranken for unknown reasons. while yuri's glad that it isn't just him and jiro who are ghouls, jiro's rather curious to why specifically mortkranken. warnings: mentions of death, erm, fem!reader that's similar to shinobu kocho, shawty, I don't know shit about anything medical, so to whomever reads this that is way more of an expert in this, I'm so sorry, if I potentially make you pissed in any way, mentions of self-harm(through poison), reader makes jiro's heart go boom boom boom boom boom (i hope someone gets what i'm referring to), oh, and vague ahh mention of alan, I think jiro might be a lil bit ooc, yeah, he is, mf be peeking a lil bit, but more out of admiration than erm, nasty boy thought reasons, oh fuck, this is a bit angsty, whoops, poor yuri's a bit traumatized

Life always managed to piss you off. You used to express it too, though not anymore really. You truly did enjoy your stay at Vagastrom, however, you had your reasons as to why you transferred to Mortkranken. Despite the captain hoping you would open up, you wouldn't budge. This was something you would rather keep to yourself. Well, if only that stupid Masterpiece News, whoever it was, decided to leak about your sister dying from the Clash. Despite wanting to murder whoever did it, you figured that would be for another time. For now, you were more focused on finding a way to kill the bastard that killed your sister in the first place.

Before you knew it, class had ended. Admittedly, despite being in the same year as both Yuri and Jiro, you didn't always share the same classes with them. Well, it's not like you could do much about that. You did have different goals from them after all. Granted, while you had the same effort and energy for yours just like Yuri's, you considered it more noble than yours. And for the most part, he didn't seem to care much about it.

Well, maybe not upfront. However, instead, Jiro would ask you as the two of you would sometimes walk to class from Mortkranken's dormitory. "Y/n, Yuri wants to see us," Jiro said, as you looked up to the taller male. You were inclined to not smile, but you simply nodded your head. "Where at?" You asked cheerfully, as you passed by some people. Some of them, whisper, confused as to how you could manage to be in the presence of "Frankenstein". Especially with some of your former house members, which you couldn't help but scoff. For a bunch of delinquents, were they seriously that scared of a rumor? Not that you remembered much of the clash, considering before it happened, you were cursed to fall asleep, the "Sleeping Beauty" curse as they called it, and while you weren't sure if you were actually kissed, nobody would talk about it, just that you were cured from it.

You even tried to get Yuri to tell you how you got cured, yet for someone who brags, he quite literally shut up about it. ". . . y/n?" Jiro asked as you snapped out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized how close the taller male was to your face until now, trying not to react much, before letting out a laugh. "Ah, sorry about that. Just some thinking," you mused, looking up at him. "Mind repeating where at again?" You asked as the taller male looked at you, before shrugging, "Back at the dormitory," he said, as you let out a "huh".

As the two of you were walking, Jiro looked at you, though you didn't pay attention much to it. While he wasn't as curious, he did recall Yuri wanting him to ask you your reasons as to why you switched to Mortkranken specifically. Granted, you were as great when it came to researching as your strength, which sometimes Yuri would ask you to help Jiro out; though that was for whenever there was an anomaly that needed to be captured. It was quite simple. Whenever there was a strong anomaly, you would infect it with poison through your katana, while Jiro would use his chainsaw.

Before you knew it, the two of you arrived at the dormitory, as you entered inside first. Looking around, you felt confused, noticing that Yuri wasn't there. "Is Yuri perhaps downstairs?" You asked as you turned around to look at Jiro. The taller man shrugged, before speaking. "No, he's still in class," he said blatantly, your eyes confused, though you still decided to politely smile at him. "So you lied to me…huh, I would've never expected that from you," you said, as you took a seat. You had to admit, that while you didn't know Jiro fully well, you were comfortable with him. Probably a bit more compared to Yuri, though you understood that Yuri had good intentions, even if he were well…prideful and arrogant.

Probably a bit more compared to Yuri, though you understood that Yuri had good intentions, even if he were well…prideful and arrogant. You watched Jiro as he looked at you, before nodding. "Yes," he said, as the corner of your smile twitched. How annoying. "What made you decide to do that?" Your question made him glance at you temporarily, as he grabbed a few tools. "Simple, I'm doing a health inspection. Yuri said it's been long overdue," he said, as you frowned, before sighing, as you decided not to fight over it.

You watched Jiro as he looked at you, before nodding. "Yes," he said, as the corner of your smile twitched. How annoying. "What made you decide to do that?" Your question made him glance at you temporarily, as he grabbed a few tools. "Simple, I'm doing a health inspection. Yuri said it's been long overdue," he said, as you frowned, before sighing, as you decided not to fight over it. "Ha ha ha ha! You're acting like a cat now," he laughed, as your eye slightly twitched. A cat? The thought of you being compared to a cat made you feel a bit more irritated, still trying to keep ahold of your emotions. "I'm not so sure about that," you let out a laugh, trying not to look affected. Jiro didn't say much, though he simply smiled, before stopping for a moment. "Ah, that reminds me. Could you change real quick?" He asked as you were close to snapping. Instead, you gave him a smile, agreeing, before waiting until he turned around before you turned around as well, changing out of your uniform.

While you were preoccupied with changing, Jiro wasn't the type to really peak. And yet, he was curious as to your body. Well, he supposed that thought would occur since he was the one that woke you up from the curse. Slowly, he glanced, admiring your body. It was rather smooth compared to his, though to be fair, you seemed like the type to take care of yourself. And yet, you seemed a bit more frail than when he first met you. Your personality truly did have changed from the past two years the more that he thought of it.

Noticing you were almost done changing, he looked away, curious as to why out of all houses to transfer to, why Mortkranken? "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, as you watched him take out a few tools. He took out a stethoscope, checking your heart rate. "Heart rate, 80 bpm," he noted, before grabbing a pressure gauge. He placed it inside your arm, checking it. "Blood pressure, 89/59," he said to himself, noting that as well. Before you knew it, he did a few things, before finishing, as he placed the tools away.

"Have you been consuming Foxglove?" For once since being in Mortkranken, a shocked gaze appeared in your eyes, gazing in his red eyes. You were confused at first before it finally connected. "Is this why you wanted to do a health check on me?" You asked, dropping your smile. You had to admit, you hadn't expected for Jiro to figure it out. Though then again, his knowledge was in some ways greater than yours; which didn't surprise you as much. "So you did," he stared at you, before frowning. "There isn't any reason for you to. Seems like at least you took small pieces, but it's affecting your health," he said, as the corner of your lips turned down.

"That's none of your fucking business," you said, before hearing Jiro beginning to laugh. The fact that he laughed was both confusing, infuriating, and yet beautiful, actually, you were going to stop yourself from there. "I missed that bluntness," Jiro said, managing to calm himself, as he smiled at you. Before you knew it, you could feel your face turn red, scoffing. "Shut up! You're being awfully weird now," you turned your face away from him. You didn't like how you could feel your heart beating fast, as you could feel cold hands on your face, before gently looking back now at Jiro.

While you wouldn't admit it, if you were asked who out of all the students at Darkwick was pretty, Jiro would honestly be the only one you would think of. "Y/n, I may not know why you're deciding to poison yourself. But, whatever problems you're facing, please, don't. In fact, lay all your love on me," he said, as you could feel his face closer to yours. ". . . May I kiss you?" He asked, before being toppled down on the ground, as you kissed him. You let go for a moment, looking at him. "I'll be Frankenstein's girlfriend," you said before the two of you kissed. Unfortunately, neither of you heard Yuri's steps. "The two of you! Go kiss somewhere else!" He screamed, a bit horrified, as the two of you stopped to look at him, before laughing, leaving the captain more frustrated, as the two of you eventually went to your room. Unfortunately, both of you had to go back for Jiro's medication.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #jiro kirisaki #jiro kirisaki x reader #jiro x reader #yuri isami

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lvis44 · 1 year

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Sweet Escape Pt. 6 // LH 44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, 18+ (mentions of sexual activities), Anxiety, Jealousy, Angst, Mentions of Alcohol, Regret, Emotional Turmoil, Not Edited

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Note: I felt bad leaving you all in pain, not that this will be much better but hey, we're getting there! This part is a tad shorter but I felt that this whole thing should be stand alone. The next part will be the final part of the story, but don't worry there will be an epilogue. I'm glad you have all been enjoying so far and I greatly appreciate everyone's support!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

It was nearing three in the morning when you heard your door open. The second you had arrived home you had grabbed your stuff out of Charlotte's room and moved back into your old one. You weren’t particularly in the mood to face anyone. You had spent the last few hours quietly sobbing into your knees, balled up on the bed like a child. You had seemingly run out of tears but the sorrow didn’t change. You hadn’t even heard everyone come home, somehow beating them even on foot, you assumed it was because they had to go find everyone else.

“What?” You snapped at whomever had entered your room, not even looking toward the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You heard Miles’ voice from the doorway, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I seem fucking okay?” You snapped again, your filter long gone.

He let out a sigh, closing the door behind him softly as he dared to make his way over to your bed, sitting down beside you gently.

“I’m sorry Y/N, it wasn’t fair to you to cause a scene like that.” He says softly, glancing over at you to see you staring into space, your attention fixated on the blank wall to the side of the room.

You scoff, not trying to be rude but unable to control anything that comes out of you, “Well at least one of you knows how to fucking apologize. I’m still mad at you though.”

You hear him sigh again, moving closer to you so he can place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. You don’t even have the energy to flinch away from him, just letting him rest his hand there and enjoying the slightest bit of comfort.

“I know you’re pissed at Lewis, you have every right to be. Don’t kill her but Charlotte kind of filled me in when we got home. He massively fucked up.” His hand continues it’s light circling pattern, “And truth be told so did I. I don’t know why but I constantly feel like I need to protect you and hearing that asshole call you anything other than perfect made me want to kill him, he’s honestly lucky Lewis had half a brain to pull me away from him. I know you can take care of yourself but I’m always gonna look out for you, no matter what. Hence the reason I tried to deck my best friend earlier tonight.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” You whip your head towards him, that last bit of information really catching your interest.

“Yeah, when Charlotte filled me in I was still livid with the whole situation from the bar and finding out what sparked it really pissed me off. It only felt right he get at least a swift kick to the groin. Not to disappoint you but Char stopped me. I’m shocked you didn’t hear us.” He almost sounds like he wants to laugh as he tells you, like he can’t believe the whole situation himself.

“He needs a kick to the groin, taking that thing out of commission for a little while might do everyone some good.” You joke dryly, making Miles laugh next to you.

“If you need me to do it, I’m more than willing.” He offers, only kind of a joke, you feel like if you genuinely asked him to do it, he would, given the circumstances.

“I hate that I can hate him and love him all at the same time. I don’t want to lose him, but this can’t carry on this way.” You confess to Miles.

“I know Charlotte already said this to the both of you, but you guys really need to fucking talk.” He tells you seriously, before adding, “And sober.”

“I know, I know.” You groan, “I’m sorry we’ve managed to fuck up so much of vacation.”

“It’s been much more him than you sweetheart, he brought every ounce of drama himself. I could tell something was up with you over the last few days but I couldn’t really figure out what. I’m sorry it’s him.” Miles brings you in for a side hug, his arm wrapping protectively around you.

“I’m just so fucking sick of it all. I’m so tired.” You tell him, leaning against his shoulder.

“I know, understandably so.” Miles lets out a sigh, holding you in silence for a few moments. “You get some sleep and I’ll check on you in the morning, okay?” He says as he presses a kiss to your temple.

All you do is nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know you’re not all good or anything, but I’m glad you're still here. I was worried you were gonna be at the airport by the time we got home, we freaked for a second when we saw your stuff wasn’t in Charlottes anymore.” He tells you quietly, still not having let you go.

“I just didn’t want to have to face anyone, figured moving back to my old room would be the easiest way.” You just about whisper, feeling your exhaustion catch up to you.

“Well, I’m sorry to have intruded, but I needed to check on you,” Miles says, kissing your forehead one more time before easing you back toward your pillows, “get some sleep hun.”

. . .

You had no idea what time it was when you finally woke up and you have no idea how long you’ve been laying in your bed staring at the ceiling. It has to have been a good hour at this point. You can hear people moving around somewhere in the house, the last thing you want to do is go and interact. You were embarrassed, angry, hurt, and so much more you couldn’t even wrap your head around. You’ve had enough. As you’ve been laying there, more than once you’ve contemplated if you could manage to pack your stuff and sneak out of the house, fly back home without another word. You knew you couldn't and more than likely someone would come track you down the second they knew you were gone, well normally they would. You don’t know what your friends know of the situation. How much did everyone else see, how much had they been told? You knew you should get up and eat something but you had no appetite, anxiety and dread having taken over your body. You lay there going through your thoughts for more than an hour. You want to sit down and talk with Lewis, you need to, but the anxiety of the possible outcome is paralyzing you. What if he confirms your fears, admits that all he’s ever been trying to do is get it your pants? What if now that you’ve shut him down he doesn’t see a reason to keep you around anymore? The rational part of your brain knows that you're overthinking, that your friendship with Lewis still stands on semi solid ground. Maybe there will be some change to how he is around you or how often he’s with you but at the base of it all your still close friends. Lewis knows things about you that your own family doesn’t, he’s been able to read you better than you can read yourself on more than a few occasions, all of that can’t go up in smoke this quickly. Can it?

There’s a soft knock on your door, making you groan. You don’t respond hoping they’ll go away. They don’t, only knocking again and gently pushing the door open. You roll your head to the side, seeing Miles peeking his head into your room, a comforting smile on his face. True to his word, here he was to check on you.

“Good morning,” He says softly, making his way into your room once he sees you’re awake, “I brought you something to eat, you need to get something in you.”

You give him a small smile as he places a tray of fruit and a large glass of ice water on the table next to your bed.

“Thanks.” You croak out, your voice hoarse from crying all night.

“Everybodies in their rooms for the most part if you need to venture out of hiding at any point.” He tells you, knowing you’ve been avoiding everyone, but one person in particular.

You just nod, taking a small sip of the cold water. It feels amazing on your burning throat, as if it’s your first drink of water after a month in the desert.

“What time is it?” You ask, trying to get some bearing on where you are in your life, even if it's just the time of day.

He glances down at the watch on his wrist, “Just before noon.”

It’s still earlier than you thought it was at this point and it fills you with a small sense of dread, there’s so much more of the day to go about trying to avoid everyone.

“You know no ones mad at you, right?” Miles makes sure you know that there’s no hostility facing you in the house.

You just shrug, unsure of how true that actually is and also not quite wanting to admit that it’s more so that you’re embarrassed to even see your friends. There’s another soft knock on the door and you're praying it’s Charlotte, the only other person you could bare being around right now. Much to your dismay, a very tired looking Lewis pokes his head around the door that Miles had left ajar. Your breath hitches, anxiety filling your body.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I’ll um-” Lewis stutters, not wanting to interrupt your chat with Miles.

“All good man, I was just gonna head out anyway.” Miles says, standing from where he had sat on your bed.

You know Miles can sense your anxiety but he gives you a look that says “just get it over with” and heads towards the door. Before he exits he turns back toward you and says “Holler for me if you need anything, alright?”

He whispers something to Lewis as he walks out and you can see a pained expression on Lewis’ face at whatever he said. Once he’s gone, Lewis stands awkwardly in the doorway, not quite being able to look at you as he plays with his hands down in front of him.

“You can come in.” You squeak, not actually fully wanting to say it but knowing it needs to be done.

He finally looks at you, putting his hand on the door as if to close it but you can see the question in his eyes. You nod, not wanting your whole conversation to be heard by everyone in the house. He very gently pushes the door closed, making his way further into your room. He looks around, evidently unsure of what to do with himself. He opts for perching on the edge of your dresser just across from where you sit on the bed, you’re facing each other and you can feel your stomach filling with butterflies, but not the good kind you usually get when you’re around him.

“I owe you an apology, well, multiple apologies.” He finally says, looking down at the ground, ashamed. His voice is hoarse as if he’s just woken up.

You don’t say anything, unsure of what you would even say.

“I’m sorry for the way that I’ve treated you. I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner. I’m sorry that my company embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry for my behavior last night, all of it. I’ve treated you in a way that if anyone else did the same to you, I would hate them.” He finally apologizes for the last few days, finally looking at you as he does so.

He looks exhausted, much older than usual with bags under his eyes and more scruff than you're used to him allowing.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “and I’m sorry I avoided talking to you too.”

He shakes his head, “It shouldn’t have been on you to fix, I’m the one that fucked up.”

You offer a small smile in his direction. All is not immediately forgiven and this conversation needs to continue, but hearing him acknowledge the reasons he needed to apologize in the first place does your heart some good at the very least.

“Why did you do it?” You ask quietly, your voice timid, not sure you truly want the answer.

He looks surprised by the question, also not quite sure how to respond. He lets out a sigh as he collects his thoughts.

“I know it doesn’t make it right,” He starts, pausing for a moment to make sure his words come across as clearly as possible, “but, it’s been on my mind for a long time. I’m well aware that I went about it all wrong, especially last night, I was incredibly out of line last night, but I’ve thought about it alot.” He cringes at his admission.

You furrow your brow, worried this is going exactly the direction you feared, hoping he will continue.

“I don’t mean for that to sound creepy, but I’ve been really attracted to you for quite a while. I should have made that clear in a much different way. I never want you to feel like I’m trying to take advantage of you in any way, it makes me sick to think that I have ever made you feel like that.” He says, a look of regret on his tired face.

“What I said last night was harsh, my drunk brain just felt like it was the best way to get my point across.” You admit to him.

“But it wasn’t really that harsh, despite it not being intentional, it’s kind of true. What I said on the other hand, that was harsh, I never should have called you a tease or said you indulged in it, it wasn’t fair.” His words are firm, for the first time he’s holding steady eye contact with you, demanding your attention so you feel the remorse in his words.

“I need to be honest, it really hurts that you’re able to treat me like all the other girls you fuck around with, I thought I was more important to you than them.” You quietly admit to him.

“Fuck, you are. So much more important to me.” He says, finally moving from where he’s been leaning on your dresser and cautiously making his way toward where you sit on your bed. He carefully sits next to you, leaving a good distance but making sure he’s near you.

“Then how can you be so okay with chatting up the bar tender, grinding on some random woman, and then still come over and try to fuck me, yet again. All because your ego couldn’t handle me dancing with someone else, when you were doing exactly the same.” You push, needing him to truly understand just how shitty his actions made you feel.

“You’re right, I was jealous. In my ideal world you would have been dancing with me all night, but I knew you wouldn’t have allowed that where we were in our relationship. And then you found that prick and the way you were with him, it just set something off in me. I wasn’t thinking. I know that sounds like a horrible excuse but there was part of me that was hoping I could make you just as jealous as I was, not that you would be when you’ve made it clear you’re not interested, and I should have respected that. Between the alcohol and my ego, I let myself treat you like shit and there’s no excuse for that, I would take it back in a heartbeat if I could.” His face is sincere, you can tell just how much he regrets last night but it doesn’t automatically let him off the hook. He continues “And as for the bartender, I wasn’t chatting her up, she’s an old friend. I’ve never slept with her and never will, she’s like family. I got distracted talking with her and by the time I found you again you had that Jason dude on your hip.”

You want to laugh, not only at him forgetting Jadens name, but also at him saying you’re not interested. He has every right to assume you’re not, you’ve done nothing but turn him down. You almost want to tell him just how wrong he is, how the only reason you said no is because you don’t want to lose him, but right now is not the time for that, you don’t want to open any windows and derail the conversation that so far is going shockingly well, even if it hurts.

“Is she the woman you went to after your fight with Talia?” You push him slightly, hoping to get more out of him while he’s being so honest with you.

His face screws up for a second, confused how you would know that. You see the questioning look on his face and rush to clarify, to confess.

“I know you lied to me that night, or at least I kind of hope you did. I overheard you and Charlotte talking the next morning, something about a woman named Marina.” You explain.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Yeah, I’m sorry I lied to you. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to explain the whole situation. But to answer your question, yes, that is the woman that I went and saw.” He doesn’t offer any further explanation, you want to push him but you allow him to leave it at that, at least for now.

You both sit in silence for a moment, trying to figure out where to go from here.

“Lewis,” You say quietly, getting his attention, “I don’t want to lose you.”

His face morphs into absolute sorrow and pain, for a moment you worry that he’s mourning your friendship, not knowing how to break the news to you.

“Y/N, you’ll never lose me. I would go crazy without you.” His voice is soft but sincere as he carefully scoots closer to you on the bed, testing the waters slightly. You let him get close enough that your knees are touching, his hand coming to rest over yours, squeezing tightly.

“How do you think I could ever let you go?” He asks with a deep frown.

“Because you seemed to be okay with ruining our friendship just to get me in your bed.” You accuse him, your voice wavering.

“Sweetheart, I was never trying to ruin our friendship, I-” He takes a long pause, gathering himself with a deep breath, “I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but truth be told, me trying to get you into bed was never just me trying to sleep with you. It’s been a long time since I felt for someone how I feel for you and I’m not good at making that clear. I don’t even truly understand everything that I feel for you but, I know it’s a whole lot more and a whole lot different than how I feel about all of my other friends. I guess somewhere in my head I felt like I could get that across physically, that maybe it would make everything make sense once I had you. I know it sounds ridiculous but I don’t know how to do this.”

His confession both shocks and confuses you, your mind flitting back to the night he disappeared after his fight with Talia. That night he had told you that he had feelings for her, now he was trying to convince you of his feelings for you.

“What about Talia?” You ask, voice still unsure.

“What about Talia?” He throws back at you, confused as to why she matters right now.

“The night that we talked, after your fight, you told me you were worried that you had messed everything up with someone that you cared about or liked a lot, I don’t remember exactly what you said but…” You trail off, a slow moment of realization coming over you.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he looks down at the ground before returning his eyes to yours, “Y/N, I was talking about you. In no universe was I ever even considering Talia.” His words confirm what you’ve just realized and you want to slap yourself, you feel like an idiot.

“I- oh my god.” You breathe out, shutting your eyes. His eye contact suddenly feeling like too much.

You stand from the bed, disconnecting your hand from his. He stays seated, looking up at you as you begin to pace, letting you process what he’s said.

“How long?” You ask suddenly, stopping and looking at him.

“In all honesty, I don’t really know. I only really realized it sometime last year. I was thinking it would go away, that it was just some silly crush, but it just kept getting worse.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders as if it’s totally normal.

“So all the time that you were sleeping with all these other women and still flirting with me was, what?” You feel yourself getting agitated, not quite sure how to feel about his actions.

“I kind of figured that if I kept sleeping around that I would be satisfied and I wouldn’t feel the same way, but I couldn't help but keep flirting with you, it’s just naturally how I am with you, it feels right.” Once again he shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“Do you not want to feel this way about me?” You ask quietly, a slight sting of rejection settling over you.

“No, no, that’s not it at all.” He rushes out, standing to approach you, carefully he puts his hands on your arms, making you look at him, “It’s not at all that I don’t want to feel this way about you, I’m glad I do to be completely honest. It’s just that I’ve been single for a very long time and I truly do not want to fuck this up, I’m scared that I’m going to and I’m going to lose you. It felt like everything would be so much easier if I could just keep being your friend and keep you in my life. But that didn’t happen, I still managed to fuck it up.”

You can feel tears forming in your eyes, he notices them too, a look of regret on his face.

“So what do you want?” You ask him, needing more clarity.

“All in all, I want you, I want to do this with you and god I want to not fuck it up. I want you to be mine, all mine, all in.” He says confidently, much more sure of himself than you feel.

You stare at him as the tears start to roll down your cheeks, your emotions are at an all time high. Part of you is filled with pure ecstasy, the man that you have crushed on for years is standing here in front of you confessing his feelings, asking you to be his. The other part of you is filled with absolute fear, the thought of trying and failing with him, losing one of the most amazing men you have ever met, your best friend. You know that a life with Lewis could either end in the most beautiful love you have ever experienced or the worst, most gut wrenching heartache known to man.

“Can I hug you? You look like you could use it.” His voice is soft, his heart aching as he watches you cry.

All you can do is nod as you let yourself fall into his hard chest. He holds you against him tightly, rubbing soft circles on your back as he once again lets you cry into his chest. You’ve done this too many times in the last twenty four hours. He stays silent, just letting you work through your emotions. When you finally calm down you pull your head from his chest but he keeps you tight against him, one of his hands coming up to wipe some remaining tears from your cheek. You revel in the feeling of his touch, how comforting a simple action can be. As you stare into his eyes you can see how much emotion and affection is hidden behind them. A soft, sad smile across his lips.

“What’s going through that beautiful mind?” He asks, his voice just above a whisper.

“I don’t know.” You tell him honestly.

He just nods, understanding how overwhelmed you must be.

“I need time, I need to think.” You say, averting your eyes from his, knowing you’ll say yes if you look into them for a moment too long.

“Take all the time you need, I’ll always be right here if you decide you’ll have me.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he gives you another proper hug.

He finally steps away from you, leaving you feeling displaced in your own room, before he turns to leave he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly, “And Y/N, no matter what you decide, you will never lose me. I will always be right here.” With that he leaves the room, leaving you behind with a whirlwind of thoughts.

As much as every part of you wants to believe him in saying he’ll never leave you, you can’t help but wonder if it’s fully true. If you try this and all of it comes crashing down, you can’t imagine being able to be around him.

Is the possibility of loving and being loved by the most incredible human being worth the possibility of losing him entirely?

452 notes · View notes

normal-internet-user · 1 year

Note

shaking at a frequency that could shatter glass I know I've been here not too long ago, but. please.

h—headcanons..,, maybe...?? f-for.

Peepaw/Dad!Leo with an adopted child!reader...,, please...,... i-i need some Dad fluff with this tortuga. this overgrown hard-shell melon. this- this. (gestures vaguely) y'get me?

he's so Dad shaped. he's so fond and just radiates safety and warmth and affection and ugghhhghhh i just KNOW he'd be the best dad EVER. nay, he IS the best dad. (pseudo) sibling Casey attests to it.

(⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠˙̫̮⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠) i think i'm actually going to lose my mind . the Clan as uncles/godparents/aunties. grandpa splinter. sweet brother Casey. it takes a village to raise a kid, they say.

do you see my vision here mate? as always, only if you want to ☜⁠ ⁠(⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠) & if you do? just .. go ham. if anything strikes you, PUT IT IN THERE. I NEED TO HEAR IT FROM OTHER PEOPLE TOO . (/lh)

This seems appropriate to celebrate me finishing the Rise movie (I am still emotionally unwell this is me coping) I shall grant you headcanons my dearest darling /p

PEEPAW LEO AS AN ADOPTIVE FATHER

....................................

Let me start this off by saying that this man-

This man is best dad.

He finds a lost child?

'Tis his child now.

You are his child now.

Casey?

He's ecstatic.

NEW SIBLING LES GO

Especially since you're younger than him,

(Not by much, maybe afew months)

Casey makes it his life mission to protect you at all costs.

His favorite thing to do is hold your hand and lead you around.

Leo is so so good at being a dad.

I mean look as CJ,

He's got this ok?

Feeling clingy?

He'll hold you until you want him to put you down.

Nightmares?

That's ok kiddo, come curl up next to Papa, he'll keep all those monsters away.

When you get older, you are not going anywhere without him, Casey, or anyone else.

It's not safe, and the same rule applies to CJ.

So you guys go on lots of scouting missions together.

You two may as well be twins, you never go anywhere without the other.

Sometimes, you and Casey will be sent to scout really last minute,

And Leo won't be notified until you two are gone.

Whenever this happens he gets super pissed off and worried because those are his kids,

He should be the one to give them clearence to leave,

Not some random officer who decided to send you two out.

If one of you ever comes back hurt,

God speed to whomever sent the two of you out.

Leo is mad.

Like, mad-mad.

So are April, Mikey, and Donnie.

Leo would literally fall apart if he lost you or Casey.

He swore to Cass that he'd protect Casey, and he promised himself he would keep you safe.

If he lost either of you he just might completely fall apart.

Leo's busy, he's running a resistance afterall,

So he can't keep eyes on you all the time.

That's why the Hamato's take turns.

Leo's in a meeting?

Let's meditate with Master Michelangelo.

Oh he's busy too?

Time to visit Uncle Tello's lab.

Can't find him?

Well where's Commander O'neil?

Can't find her either?

Welp, enjoy the meeting, cause you're stuck there now.

Play rock paper scissors or somethin idk.

If you're around before Splinter passes, he spends alot of time around you.

He's always wanted grandchildren, and he's going to cherish you,

Especially with the world in anarchy.

When you start losing people, it get's hard.

First it was Grandpa Splints,

Then it was Uncle Tello,

Then Auntie April...

Through it all Leo made sure you were ok.

You're just a kid, and you have to grow up in this hellscape?

You've never seen the blue sky, or normal rain,

And everyone you hold close is being ripped away.

That's not fair.

So he does everything he can to make sure you grow up safe and happy.

One of his favorite things to do was tell you and Casey stories of what the world used to be like.

Your favorite is when he describes the stars.

It sounds so amazingly beautiful, shimming lights like glitter sitting up in a blackish blue abyss.

Wow...

After the events of the movie, (you knew it was coming goddammit)

Your first request is to see the stars.

Which is pretty hard since New York is really bright like all the time.

So they took you and Casey to the docks where you would be able to see them best.

You looked up at the sky in absolute awe,

Papa's words would never do the stars justice.

After a minute, you broke down in tears.

It hurt, he promised to be the one to point out the constellations and his younger self doing it just wasn't the same.

Griefing is going to be a really big thing post movie.

In the future, you never really had the chance.

Everything happened so quickly and anytime wasted on griefing could have been a death sentence.

But now, you don't have to watch every corner, you don't have to wake up in fear you'll be alone.

So you grief.

You grief your family, and Casey does too.

Sure, technically they're right outside your room.

But it's not them.

They didn't raise you.

When Leo sends you and Casey back in time,

You took it much worse than Casey, who was focused on completeing the mission.

Sure, you wanted to stop the Kraang too,

But you missed your dad...

So when you find your family's past selves,

And Leo is being so...

Reckless,

You're angry.

Really angry.

Never in your life had your father acted this way, and Casey needlessly boosting his ego 30 seconds into knowing him wasn't helping.

Through out the movie, Casey needs to remind himself that this Leo isn't your Leo.

You have absolutely no trouble with that.

You come across as cold and angry, which worries your brother since you've never been like this before.

The others just assume you're always that way.

But you're not,

And acting like this makes you hate yourself.

You're grappling with the loss of your dad, and the fact that you might fail to do what you were sent here to in the first place.

Casey pulls you aside and gives you a talk.

He understands that your hurting,

He is too,

But this isn't about the two of you.

This is about saving the world and stopping the Kraang.

After that, you can hurt all you want.

That talk ended with you sobbing into Casey's shoulder, practically collapsing to the ground while you clinged to him and begged him not to leave you too.

Aight imma hit ya with the sandwich technique.

Fluff, angst, fluff.

Boom.

When you were a kid,

You had a habit of collecting anything shiny.

Old coins, jewelry, even just shiny rocks.

If it glimmered, you wanted it.

So whenever Leo had to leave the base, he always came back with something shiny for you to add to your hoarde.

He liked to compare you to a crow, and you asked what a crow was.

Right, raised in the apocolypse.

Sure there were plenty of birds around,

But they weren't.... normal.

So Leo explained what a crow was, and that they liked to collect shiny things.

You understood, but you wanted to know what one looked like,

So you went to Uncle Tello and asked if he could show you what a crow looks like.

He showed you, and immediatly you took to the comparison proudly.

You were like a crow!

Mikey liked to put on little shows for you and all the other children that lived in the base.

Making animals and such out of his ninpo.

Your favorite were the birds, the rabbits too.

But the best was the butterflies, which he also used to help you and Casey fall asleep.

They'd flutter around you room kinda like a nightlight.

I also like to imagine that when you and Casey start scouting, you get in trouble for fucking around.

Mostly making stupid bets for your shiny things.

Casey would collect shiny things just to make these bets.

Usually it was simple stuff, like who can throw a rock the farthest,

But even stuff like that could get both of you killed.

Neither of you really listened until one day,

You're making your bet like usual,

And the building you were scouting out wasn't as empty as you thought.

The two of you nearly fell to your deaths, luckily Casey managed to grapple the two of you to safety.

But after that, you had a major fear of heights, and Leo didn't let the two of you out of his sight for a while.

He made sure to scold the two of you when you returned that day,

Before hugging you and telling you how scared he was for a second.

Leo has no problem with you and Casey being included in meetings,

Honestly he prefers it.

If you two are gonna go running around scouting, you should know what's going on.

You'll have the occasional adult who thinks you and Casey are incompitent because of your age,

And that you shouldn't participate in meetings.

But Leo puts that to rest pretty quickly.

"If they can go out, and risk their lives on missions, they can attend the meetings." He'd say.

Leo loves you with his heart and soul.

If anything happened to you, he'd fall apart.

Sometimes he just needs you to have little sleepovers with him, that way he knows you're safe and sound.

He just wants to protect you.

You're his kid,

And he loves you

....................................

I wrote this while listening to anarchy by egg, and damn that song fits.

This one is LONG that's my bad, I got alittle carried away :^

495 notes · View notes

munson-mjstan · 1 year

Note

Here's a request for you, my dear! Reader writes for the school paper and is assigned an article highlighting different school clubs. She tries to interview Eddie about Hellfire, but he just assumes she's going to mock/tease him about being a "freak who likes to play fantasy games" and is really short with her. It hurts her feelings, and when someone (Dustin? Lucas? Mike?) points out what an asshole he was, he tries to make it right.

I can't wait to read it!

xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Thank you bug! @munson-blurbs

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, language, and fluff by the end

Minors D.N.I 18+

Wc: 2.9k

°♡°

"Gotta go, I'm hungry, see you later!" Dustin departs but not before hugging you which you returned.

Trekking in the bustling hallway of your school, your peers making their way to their next classes. Upon entering the paper editing room you're met with Nancy, who had just turned to face whomever walked in, "Good morning!" she greeted you sporting a familiar grin.

"Another article set up for me? Geez, have you ever taken a break?" you joked with her, you had worked with Nancy for some time, and known her even longer, you used to help babysit her brother and his friends when they were younger. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will who had moved to California liked you and thought you were kind and warm.

Walking toward Nancy she answers, "A writer's job is never done, and yes, I have one in mind."

"What club is this? Between you and I, we've already interviewed all of them," you were confused, was there a new club you weren't familiar with?

"Hellfire," she shrugs, "I know I haven't interviewed the head honcho, Eddie Munson. Have you?"

"No, I haven't.." you shook your head and your voice got quiet, you'd forgotten about Hellfire. You don't know how you did, Eddie is infamous in Hawkins High. His wild antics in class, the cafeteria, and even the library were well known. You weren't going to lie to yourself, his personality had intimidated you.

He wasn't unkind to you, you both had exchanged polite smiles several times passing each other in the hallway on another monotonous day of school, "W-what time do I head over?" you ask Nancy, your voice apprehensive.

Giving you a sympathetic smile she responds, "Relax, it'll be fine, you got this!" Nancy encourages you, the energy radiating off her physique, "Find Mike, Dustin, or Lucas, and they'll tell you. According to rumors, take this with a grain of salt, they're a Satanic Cult." she rolled her eyes, "The shit people come up with is ridiculous, Mike is in Hellfire, it's just a Dungeons and Dragons club."

You agreed wholeheartedly, "Leave it to a bored small town to come up with something like that when it's just a game," familiar with D&D during your time babysitting Mike the game fascinated you, "so do you have some sort of plan? What do you want me to ask?" Attempting to divert your rising anxiety you focus your brain on the task at hand.

"Ask how he formed Hellfire, what gave him the idea, what makes it different from the other clubs. Come on, you've done this before, what's got you so anxious?"

Sighing in defeat, your gaze falls to the floor beneath your feet, "That obvious, huh?"

"It's not like you hide it well," she remarks with a smirk, your shoulders slump.

"I'm hopeless," you lament with a hint of playfulness.

"You're fine the way you are," she reassures you kindly.

Gathering your notebook and pencil you give Nancy a reluctant grin, "I got this,"

Nancy lights up at your words, "Great!" she pats your forearm, "Everyone's headed to lunch, you might catch Mike or someone from Hellfire on the way. Good luck!"

"Thanks, Nance," just like that she takes off, Fred Benson following suit.

Soon after you're out the door. Scanning carefully among the crowds of students you spot a familiar figure wearing a "Thinking cap" ball cap on his head. Zig-zagging your way through the crowd, your hand makes contact with the figure's shoulder, "Dustin!" you beam.

"Hey!" he turns to face you and gives you a big hug, "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, getting through school," you shrug, "writing for the Hawkins paper," both of you move out of the way of the other students.

"How's that going?" Dustin asks, his grin not leaving his face.

"I need to interview Eddie for Hellfire, frankly I'm a little nervous,"

"That's great! We're gonna be famous!" he exclaims joyfully.

"I wouldn't go that far." you can't help but laugh at his vitality, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly, "What time do you start Hellfire?"

"After school. We usually try to wrap things up by 8:30 depending on what we're doing,"

"I-is Eddie nice?" your insecurities are rising and it's evident in your voice.

"Eddie is the best!" Dustin's grin gets wider, "He took Mike and me in when we were trying to find our place in Hawkins High! He's a great storyteller and world-builder! He even creates voices for the characters!" Dustin's admiration for Eddie seems to increase with every word that leaves his mouth, his eyes shining with respect, "The interview will go great!" Dustin's voice is the epitome of confidence.

Leaning against the wall a breath you didn't know you were holding in deflates out of your lungs like a balloon, taking your anxiety and insecurities out with it, "Thanks, Dusty, I needed that," you say with a smile, gratitude sparkling in your eyes.

"Anything for my favorite babysitter!" he playfully boops your nose.

You giggle, "You think it would be best if I wait until after Hellfire is over before I talk to him?"

"He'll be in a good mood. Post-campaign euphoria, y'know?"

Thinking back to the times the boys had finished a campaign, the victorious cries were heard from Nancys' basement, their energy infectious and journeying throughout the home, "I remember," you grin.

°♡°

The drama class door swung open, and congratulatory cheers can be heard from the confines. Mike is the first to emerge, sporting a grin that seemed to split his countenance. His dark eyes meet yours, "We won!" he addresses you with exuberance walking over to you.

"Congratulations!" The post-campaign euphoria affects you similarly; goosebumps erupt up your arms.

"I heard from Dustin, you gonna interview Eddie? Also how long were you waiting out here?" he asks, concern etched in his voice.

"Yes, and about ten minutes, not long at all, gave me time to calm my nerves,"

Mike seemed to relax slightly at your admission, "You're nervous?"

"Just a little, I'll deal," you shrug.

Dustin, Jeff, Gareth, Erica, and Gary exit the drama room. Dustin strolls over to Mike and you, "Did Mike tell you we gained a victory?"

"Eddies ready for you, head on in,"

"He informed me of your success, congratulations!" both of you high-fived, and you gave Mike one as well, not wanting to leave him out.

Dustin said.

Inhaling and exhaling a breath you say, "I'm ready,"

"We'll wait for you out here, right Mike?" Dustin faces his friend.

"Thanks, kids, you're awesome!" giving them a wink you head inside the drama classroom where the leader of Hellfire awaited you.

"Huh? Oh! Right, sure," Mike agrees.

°⁠♡°

Peering inside you see the infamous Eddie Munson, seated on his throne with an intense glare set on you.

Clearing your throat and wiping your hands on your high-waisted pencil skirt, "H-hello, how do you do," you introduce yourself in a voice that resembles a mouse.

"Eddie Munson." he snaps, his voice low and guarded.

"I'm here to interview you for the Hawkins High paper," informing him of your intentions you try your best to make your voice even and professional. Sitting down in the chair closest to him, you open your notepad and remove your pencil from your ear. Getting right down to business you ask him your first question, "What made you start Hellfire?"

"Wanted more people to play D&D with. Next question."

His short and malicious tone hit you right in the heart, the pain feeling like ice. Your breathing becomes unsteady as you write down Eddie's answer, "I-I see."

Feeling a lump form in your throat, you ask your next question, "How has," swallowing the lump in your throat, "Forming this club improved your academic performance?"

He let out a laugh that resembled a feral beast, "School sucks, it always has. Next question." More icy pain shoots up your body, stabbing your heart, and now your voice trembles writing down his answer once again,

"R-right?" letting out a weak chuckle, you agree with him.

You have one question left! You can do this!

Mentally cheering yourself on, you press forward.

"Among–"

"Cut the bullshit already." Once more he interrupts you, he seems to be in a rush to get to the bottom of the matter, the only issue is you have no idea what his problem is.

"W-what?" you stutter, blinking back tears forming, his harsh tone is like a viper biting into your flesh; the sting unrelenting.

"You're only here to make fun of the 'freak' the 'satan worshiper' AND the 'cult leader'!" he stood abruptly slamming his hand on the table, you flinch.

"I would never–"

You could only stand there frozen, stunned as his verbal assault resumed, "Well it's not going to work this time!

"I don't believe you! You're just like everyone else; judging without bothering to get to know them!" The snake's venom is seeping into your bloodstream along with the icy chill of his words. Frankly, you were taken aback, you'd no idea he thought this way about you, and you had no idea why this was hurting you so vastly.

His next words were the nail in the proverbial coffin, "You're nothing." he seethed, speaking through clenched teeth.

The venom swallowed you whole as the ice caught in your throat. Tears cascade down past your waterline like a faucet. Dropping your notepad and pencil absentmindedly you cast one last gaze into his face. His eyes were cold with malice and contempt. Making a quick turn you sprint toward the door, each step on the linoleum floor causes more ice to stab your heart.

He had called you "nothing", and you felt like it. Bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself you bury your head in between your knees but it brings no solace to the void that was starting to consume you.

The door opened with a bang startling Dustin and Mike, "That was fa– Hey what happened?" Dustin noticed your tear-stained face but couldn't say anything further, you were already running down the hall with sobs escaping unbidden from your lips. With your vision fuzzy from the tears you can barely make out the sign for the girl's bathroom. Bursting inside you lean against the door sinking to the floor you weep.

°♡°

Eddie remained in the drama room, cleaning up the rest of the D&D pieces, a proud grin formed on his face, "Showed her," he murmurs.

"Eddie, what the hell happened?" Dustin makes an appearance, followed closely by Mike.

Eddie scoffs, facing the boys, "I protected us is what I did."

"How?" Mike asks, incredulously, not being able to comprehend what their Dungeon Master was saying.

"She is going to use that article to spread the rumors that Hellfire is a Satan-worshiping cult!" he asserts, picking up your notepad from the floor and tossing it onto the table, "Henderson, dispose of that."

Dustin picks up your notepad and peers at your notes or lack thereof he sees your teardrops on the paper, "No," he says firmly.

Eddie looks at Dustin, surprised that he refused his request, "And why not?"

"Because she's NOT like that!" Mike pipes up, the first to defend your honor.

Dustin nods at his best friend, "Mike's right, she'd never do something like that."

"What are you two, her knights in shining armor?" Eddie spat, he couldn't believe both of his friends weren't backing him up on this. He was one hundred percent certain you'd come to bully him, he wasn't going to take any chances, it was his job to protect his flock.

"Eddie," Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose, "what did you say to her?"

Eddie shrugged, "I told her she was nothing,"

"You mother–"

"Mike!" Dustin stopped Mike from saying something he'll most likely regret, "Eddie," he let out an exasperated sigh "She's one of the kindest people we've ever met. She babysat us when we were younger," Dustin explains, his tone serious. He's determined to let Eddie know he screwed up, "She genuinely cares about us and Dungeons and Dragons,"

Eddie slumped down on his throne, "So what you're saying is," he paused, there had to have been some merit to what they were saying if both Mike and Dustin were coming to your aid, "I screwed up?" he finishes, the realization sinking into him like a large stone into a lake.

"YES!" Dustin and Mike say in unison, the former slamming your notepad in front of Eddie's side of the table.

Your tearful expression flashed unbidden in Eddie's mind's eye; the sinking realization had finally hit him in full force. Placing his face in his hands he says, "Dammit!" his voice muffled, how could he have gotten something so wrong? Guilty bubbled in his gut, along with the fear that you won't forgive him, "I have to apologize! Right now!" he stands up in a panic grabbing your notepad, and frantically paces the room, "Where is she?" he demands the boys.

Eddie sprinted out the door in a desperate search for you.

"We don't know!" Will speaks up, "I can only guess she ran to the girl's bathroom."

°⁠♡°

Sitting on the cold, semi-dirty floor your wailing had subsided to short sobs and hiccups. How could he think so lowly of someone he had barely spoken to? You'd never imagined he'd be so cruel, callous, and so certain that you'd have malicious intent with your interview. You had a genuine interest in Dungeons & Dragons, and while you most likely wouldn't be good at it the game itself fascinated you.

Standing up on wobbly feet you stroll to one of the sinks and peer at your face. Your eyes are puffy and swollen with tear tracks down your cheeks, "Dammit," muttering to yourself, you half-heartedly wash your face the best you can. Sighing as droplets of water fall from your complexion, "What am I going to tell Nancy?"

Drying your face on the sandpaper-like paper towels you're startled by the bathroom door opening, instinctually your eyes fly to the door, surprised by the mop of frenzied curls that enter your field of vision. His remorseful, ashamed, and guilt-ridden face froze you on the spot.

"What are you–?"

"I'm so sorry!" he says between pants, as though he ran a marathon to find you, "I was wrong!"

Your face morphed into one of confusion, "Wrong about what?"

"I was wrong for assuming you'd bully me. I was wrong for not giving you a fair chance. I was wrong for being so cold to you. I was wrong about everything," he took several steps toward you until he was in front of you, "I'm sorry for making you cry…that is what I'm most ashamed of," his voice breaks, that's how you know his apology is sincere.

His words are like a panacea on your body; the frozen venom disperses. Peering into his eyes you say words he hoped to hear, "I accept your apology, Eddie Munson."

"Thank. You. Christ!" his shoulders slump in relaxation, "Oh!" he hands you your notepad, "Here, I'm sorry again,"

Gazing at the item in Eddie's hands you smile, "Thank you! And I'll accept that second apology on one condition."

"Name it and it's done."

"Can we leave? This is the girl's bathroom."

"Oh, shit!" he'd forgotten where he was, peering around he comments, "So much cleaner than the boys,"

"Okay, out!" you laugh, pushing him gently toward the door. Once you both were outside you say playfully, "You're forgiven, again,"

Eddie chuckles, "Thanks,"

"So," you hesitate, "are we friends now?" unsure of where you stand, you ask for clarification.

"Hell yeah, we're friends!" he says with conviction and no uncertainty.

"Good! That's good!" you grin.

"I want you to interview me properly this time. But before that, what was your last question?"

"My last question?"

"The one you were going to ask me before I blew up at you."

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh that one!"

You clear your throat, "Among the people in Hellfire, who do you admire and why?"

Eddie looked taken aback; his mind drew a blank. Did he admire someone in Hellfire? He was admired, yes but did he ever feel that way for someone else? "Uh," he pauses, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay, we can answer the previous questions. The next paper doesn't come out until next week, I just like getting my work done early," Sensing his difficulty answering your question, you decide to ease his mind and give him time to think it over.

"Thank you, I'll answer your other questions at Benny's, I owe you a milkshake, my treat. I hope you don't mind a small detour I need to drive Henderson and Wheeler home," he starts to head back in the direction of the drama club, a spring in his step and humming a tune you didn't recognize.

"They are pretty cool." he agrees.

"Of course, I don't mind. Those kiddos are the best!" walking next to him, you praise the boys.

°⁠♡°

Once again you stroll the busy school hallways the next day, and you hear your name called.

"Hey!" Eddie approached with his hands behind his back.

"Hi, morning!" you greet him with a grin.

"I have the answer to your question."

"Oh? That's great! Do I need my notepad for this?" you ask, slinging your backpack off your shoulder.

"No, no this will be quick. It's you," he declares with a smile, his eyes shining with sincerity.

Your jaw drops, and your mind reels. You hadn't expected this, "What? Me?" you point to yourself.

"Yes, you, my new friend," he gazes at you fondly.

"I'm not a part of Hellfire,"

"Welcome to Hellfire."

"Not yet you're not," his arms move from behind his back, and he unveils the infamous shirt he and the rest of the club sport.

°⁠♡°

Reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💗

#requests #Munson-blurbs #Chrissy writes #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddiemunson

376 notes · View notes

angelsandarsenic · 3 months

Text

Queen

ok, this ended up a bit longer than I meant it to be but here ya go. Dividers by CafeKitsune!

You can pry song fics from my cold dead hands. Series warnings: mentions of manipulation, child abuse and canon typical violence

Uzui Tengen x f!reader pt.1: No Use Crying

"My life is ending. My life is ending, Himari, and I'm not even fifteen yet." For all your dramatics as you lamented, you were being deadly serious.

"You are being presented for an Omiai, it's not the end of the world." Himari wasn't unaccustomed to your rants, but it was generally a toss up on whether or not she entertained them. The maid shuffled around you, straightening your kimono and smoothing your hair.

�� "I can't believe you're not on my side here," you complained. "I feel like I've already been sold wearing this thing." The fine silk wasn't quite formal, but it certainly wasn't casual. Red camellia blossoms cascaded gracefully down the length of the kimono, coalescing at the bottom. Tasteful accents of gold were stitched along the collar, showing off the Shimizu family's wealth. It was almost long enough that you might have to hold up the hem as you walked.

"You're not being sold, miss Y/N. Your father is a traditional man, that's all. I'm sure you'll be quite happy with whomever he finds you to marry."

"This is completely unfair. I should be in school. Girls are getting official educations now, Himari. How can it be the most I'm good for to get married and have children?! I could have a life! I could be learning maths and science! Or learning bujutsu with Takeshi!"

Himari whacked you, and you yelped, rubbing your arm. "Hush! If the madam hears you saying that-"

"If I hear what, Himari?"

Immediately, both ladies straightened. The maid bowed respectfully. In the doorway, the lady of the house stood, her own long kimono decorated similar to her daughter’s, with only slightly less of the white underdress showing. She looked young for her age, so with her beauty, she could get away with it. "Only the usual ma'am. The young miss doesn't seem to want to get married, is all."

Your mother sighed. "Y/N, we've been over this," she warned.

You looked away with a glare. You would always be grateful for the maid’s cover, but it didn’t mean you appreciated being scolded over anything lesser either. “Your father will not appreciate this petulance, girl. I suggest you change your attitude before we go. And don’t dawdle. Himari, hurry and tie that obi. We can’t keep the Suzukis waiting.”

”Of course, ma’am.”

With a mournful tilt of your eyebrows, you looked one last time in the mirror. You weren't married yet, you supposed, but you might as well be. Makeup accentuated your lovely features and decorative ornaments sat prettily in your hair. You looked beautiful, you weren't too humble to admit it. So why do I feel like a sow up for auction?

As your mother turned away to wait in the hall, the maid whispered kindly in your ear. “You’ll have a better time in a house of your own miss. And meeting your husband so young should make him more amenable to your thoughts and wishes.” She offered you a smile. “This is a good thing. Try to appreciate it.”

You hummed, near silently. “I…understand what you’re saying. But if I leave this house, I lose my only passion; even if I have to train in secret, I couldn’t do that at the Suzuki house.”

Himari tutted. “Passion or not, martial arts will never serve you, it’s only going to harm you if someone finds out. You like to read, and play music; not to mention you’ll have plenty to do managing a household. You need to throw yourself into something more practical now.”

Uzui Tengen was not happy to be here.

As flashy as a large city such as this was, the other Mizunoe on this mission with him was only slowing him down. Tengen grit his teeth, waiting for the boy who was struggling to keep up. “This is not flashy,” he muttered.

The boy—Satoshi? Seichii? He had already forgotten—made the valiant effort to smile brightly at him as he skidded to a stop where Tengen was already standing. “You’re so fast!” He complimented between huffs. “It’s hard to believe that you’re only a Mizunoe.”

Of course, because I’m a Shinobi. He didn’t say it out loud. “Are you ready to continue? The longer we wait, the more people could die at the evil hands of these demons.”

“Y-yes! Of course! I don’t think we need to rush so much though, it’s hardly dusk. We made good time.”

Tengen scoffed. We could have been here hours ago.

He didn’t say that either. He didn’t want to be harsh, like his father. Still, he’d much rather have had his wives on this mission with him. They’d work together much better, despite not officially being demon slayers themselves.

Yet again, Tengen considered encouraging them to take the final selection exam. Suma, Makio and Hinatsoru would easily pass, he had complete faith in them. Especially after seeing the unflashy ametuers that had also successfully passed. Unfortunately, that would afford them a lot less freedom and put his wives in far more danger than if they weren’t corps members. So this is what I put up with instead.

”Let’s head into the city now. Perhaps we can find the creature's lair before it even starts skulking about.” With a huff, Tengen blew his hair out of his face.

The other boy straightened and nodded. “Yes! I’ll follow your lead.”

There was nothing wrong with the Suzuki boy, per se, only that he inspected you more than properly became acquainted with you, and that throughout the entire meeting, your father bitched with Mr. Suzuki. It was all the usual rants—he complained about the fall of the Samurai and how degrading it was to be reduced to merchants, about the direction the country was going, the horror of young women being allowed in schools and the integration of western fashion. Personally, you didn’t think any of that made for tactful or appropriate Omiai conversation topics, but it wasn’t up to you. All in all, you were very tired when your family finally left.

You didn’t speak on the way home. Frankly, both on the walk to the Suzuki estate and back, you had felt like the entire city was watching you. It was your imagination, surely. That reassurance didn’t stop the pervasive sense of eyes on your back or the grandiose air of parade as you went.

Normally, you were perfectly fine being watched. You knew you would be, always. In the Meiji reformation, nobles had been reduced to a memory of the past, but wealth and a powerful family lineage was still a highly valued subject. So too, to have a beautiful daughter and equally handsome son. This felt different though. Your parents would say it was all in your mistakenly progressive mind, but this felt malicious. Dreadful. Somber.

You need to grow up, you told yourself. There really wasn’t anything you could do about it. You had considered running away before, but where would you go in a world filled with demons? Maybe the tales of those beasts were over exaggerated. Your father was prone to doing that. Even being able to see it for the manipulation tactic it was however, you had no way of confirming it and no way of protecting yourself. Normal weapons had no effect on demons.

Besides, how do you know you could fight well enough not to be devoured? Your mind whispered. You train in the shadows, you've never practiced against a living opponent.

If you go out there you'll die.

It was dark when you all left. It was largely suggested to all citizens to be inside by nightfall, but the bright lights of the city and the decorative lanterns hanging in the streets created a bubble like sense of security. There were so many people here, a demon would never dare to attack. The city was safe.

The streets weren't quite as full now as in midday, but curfew was largely disregarded and your father felt no fear in having his wife and daughter out after sunset.

It wasn't so bad, you tried to console yourself. Still, your heart weighed heavily in your chest. We are wealthy, and maybe I can convince him to travel somewhere with me and then I can run away. Yes, that sounded like a reasonably solid plan. It was the best you had, at least. I suppose there's hope with Suzuki. With my father…

In your father's house, you'd never dare do many of the things that were becoming options now. It almost made you excited to hurry up and get married. I won't cower before-

A terrible scream ripped through the air. Immediately, the procession stopped. Yanked from your melancholy thoughts, you whipped your head around to find the source of the commotion. The crowd around you murmured and shifted, too dense to see anything through.

Your father grabbed your arm tightly. "Come. Let's get back quickly."

Just as you were being pulled in the opposite direction, someone else screamed. The sea of people began to part like falling cards. You could see brief flashes of amber and blue, and could make out the sound of clashing metal.

The creature that sped towards you was moving too fast to make out at first. You thought it must be wearing a violet kimono--or shreds of one--but the rest of the mass was too grey-ish green to be human skin, too bulging and twisted in its shape and you were reacting far too slowly. Your father's hand released your arm as he stumbled back with a shout that sounded dull on your ears. That- that creature was coming right towards you-!

And then you were gone. You blinked as that metallic sound flashed below you. With a gasp, you realized you were in the air, cradled in warm arms as your rescuer dropped back down to the cobblestone streets. The boy holding you took your breath away just as soon as you had gotten it back. With pure, silvery white hair falling around a bejeweled headband and eyes like rubies, he was beautiful. And strong. He stared at the monster with grim indifference and at last, you noticed the handles of swords over his shoulders.

Ba-thump

Was that your heart? Surely not. But surely you would be justified if it had been.

The boy huffed and glanced down at you. "Too slow," he muttered, and deposited you on the ground. Instantly, indignation and embarrassment heated your cheeks. Not that he was wrong, but- but-!

The boy was already gone, leaping back into the fight. Without even thinking, you chased after him, towards the hideous creature. A demon, you realized. Then these must be demon slayers. There was a second boy with a sword as well, dressed more plainly in what looked to be a black uniform of some kind, as opposed to the white haired boy's more colorful outfit. They sped around the beast, narrowly avoiding sharp, talon-like claws and swings of meaty fists. With every attack, the white haired boy would almost disappear with how fast he was moving, then reappear, holding whatever hapless civilian had nearly become collateral damage. And the demon...

You had only ever seen paintings of demons when you would sneak around the dojo. This was nothing like that; this was so much worse. It was a grotesque thing, of sickly pallor and viciously sharp teeth. An extra set of arms and two tails protruded from the lower half of its body. The hair it had left on its balding head was patchy, and it drooled, its voice grating on your ears with some inhuman tone. Blood stained its skin and clothes.

The people had given the demon a wide berth, but many, like you, were too shocked from horror to do anything but stand and watch. Your own family, and the servants that had come with them were frozen as well, fallen to the ground and were staring, horrified, up at the creature. "Run!" Someone yelled. The demon slayer with the blue sword. "You need to run! You're in danger here!"

Yes. Yes! Right! "Go!" You shouted as well. You pushed the people next to you, shaking them out of their stupor. As each went with hurried, frantic whimpers, you forced your way further through the crowd. "Run! Get out of here! Go home, find safety!"

You glanced back to the demon and the fight. It knocked a string of lanterns out of the air with its tail. The boy rolled under a swipe from one arm. The white haired kid got knocked flying from a back hand by another.

The demon's eyes were fixed on you. Maybe...I've drawn too much attention to myself. With an ugly cry, it rushed forward, only to shriek as the plain boy slashed a long line across its stomach.

He turned to look to where the demon had been going, and in that moment of distraction, the creature slashed at him. The boy screamed, and all you could see was red.

You flinched as his body flew past where you were standing. His sword skidded uselessly across the street, glinting in the night lights. No...

There was no time to dwell. The demon was making its way over now. The people around you screamed and ran, no urging necessary this time. Instinctively, you looked over to your brother. He trained with swords, he was the one you had always watched and learned from, he was the pride of your family's dojo, descended from samurai.

Takeshi was still flat on his ass, tears streaming down his face when he locked eyes with you.

You cursed under your breath, a word that would have made your mother faint. The sword was there, just a few feet away. You could maybe reach it in time if you went now. Well, if I'm gonna die, there's no use crying about it.

You ran.

You didn't stop to swipe the poor boy's sword off the ground, you didn't hesitate to think. The grip was familiar and sent a rush of confidence through your veins. The metal was sturdier than your bokken, an even, calming weight. "Your sword is an extension of your body. Breathe deeply and strike."

As the demon bore down on you, you slashed upwards. Papery skin and gooey insides gave way like warm butter. You risked a glance up, seeing the demon's wide, indignant eyes. The large claw that had been poised above your face dropped to the ground at your feet with a thunk. But the line that split the creature was already knitting itself back together.

You hardly had to think. Your body moved through well practiced forms, up the creature's body until at last, severing the head clean from its shoulders.

The people that still hadn't fled murmured and gasped. Then those gasps turned to cheers and clapping erupted across the street. The demon crumbled away into dust. As the last burning remnants faded, there was the white haired boy, staring at you from across the square.

You didn't have time to appreciate his wide eyes, or even check on the injured demon slayer who had unwittingly lent you his blade. As soon as the threat had disappeared, your father was back at your side, gripping your arm tight enough to bruise. "Drop the sword. Now," he hissed.

The first demon slayer was starting down the empty street. How’s that for too slow? You raised your chin to watch him approach.

Your father pulled you back. "Y/N, we're going home."

You flinched. You dropped the sword with what seemed like a deafening clatter. "Yes sir."

I don’t usually write x readers so please let me know what you think!

READ PART 2 HERE

#Uzui tengen fanfic #Demon slayer fanfic #uzui tengen x reader #songfic #tumblr fanfic

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overlord-of-chaos · 3 months

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I am begging people to please learn the distinction between sex positive and sex favourable.

I get that it can be confusing, but I would really appreciate being able to discuss being a sex-averse, sex positive ace without people thinking these are contradictions or otherwise making sweeping statements about categories I'm not sure they actually know the definitions of.

So, for anyone who might not be familiar:

Sex-favourable: someone who is favourably inclined towards having sex and is actively interested in doing so

Sex-neutral: someone who is neutral towards having sex or doesn't really have any strong feelings about it in any particular direction

Sex-averse: someone who is not favourably inclined towards having sex, even if they aren't bothered by seeing it/discussing it/whatever (this is what I use to describe myself, to distinguish from sex-repulsed)

Sex-repulsed: someone who is not favourably inclined towards sex and probably also finds discussions of it and seeing it/reading it/encountering it uncomfortable

None of these things preclude anyone from being sex positive or sex negative! These are both attitudes towards sex and its surrounding culture that an individual chooses to have.

Being sex positive means that you are generally of the opinion that people should be free to have whatever consensual sex they wish with whomever they wish (including not at all with anyone ever), and that people should not be vilified for engaging in sexual activity that might be considered "deviant" or whatever the fuck because that whole idea is bullshit.

Being sex negative means, essentially, that you don't think that.

I'm generalising a bit here, so if anyone has anything to add, please do. But I think that covers the basics.

#asexuality #sex positivity #lgbtqia

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each-night · 3 months

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something (itadori x reader) (sukuna x reader)

Since I joined Jujutsu school, my life has been intertwined with danger and shadows. But no shadow is as intimidating as Sukuna's. Every night, when everyone else sleeps, his presence is felt, a mix of threat and fascination.

"Another night of training, little one?" his voice resonates in the darkness, and I tense up, though I try to hide it behind a mask of indifference.

"I need to improve," I reply, clenching my fists. "Not all of us have your innate strength."

Sukuna laughs, a sound that makes me shiver. "You don't need to be like me. You just need to be strong."

His words surprise me. Why is he interested in me in this way? Why does he protect me, even though I know he could destroy me with a single move?

Days pass and my confusion only grows. Although Sukuna represents everything dark and dangerous, there's an inexplicable connection between us. But then there's Yuji Itadori, with his kind heart and infectious smile. He represents the light in my life, a painful contrast to Sukuna's darkness.

One afternoon, after a grueling training session, Yuji approaches me with that smile that melts my heart. "Are you okay?" he asks, his concern evident in his bright eyes.

I nod, though my mind is elsewhere. "Yes, just tired."

He smiles even wider. "You're always working so hard. You should take a break once in a while."

I blush at his kindness. "Thank you, Yuji. You're incredibly kind."

Later, when I'm alone in my room, I feel Sukuna's unmistakable presence. "What was that?" he asks, his tone heavy with jealousy.

"What do you mean?" I reply, trying to keep calm.

"With Itadori," Sukuna says, his voice as cold as ice. "You seemed too close for my liking."

"You have no right to say that," I reply firmly, facing him. "I can talk to whomever I want."

Sukuna stares at me, his dark eyes gleaming intensely. "Remember that you're mine," he says in a threatening whisper.

As time passes, the tension between Yuji, Sukuna, and me becomes harder to ignore. My friends notice the changes in me, but they never dare to ask. I'm torn between the darkness that draws me and the light that comforts me.

During a dangerous mission, I find myself in a desperate situation. The curse we're facing is too powerful, and it hits me with a force that takes my breath away. When all seems lost, Yuji appears, fighting with all his might to save me. But even he isn't enough.

That's when Sukuna manifests himself, taking control and destroying the curse with terrifying ease. When I regain consciousness, I'm in Yuji's arms, his expression full of relief and concern.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice trembling.

I weakly nod. "Thank you, Yuji. You saved me."

But before I can say more, I feel Sukuna's presence once again. "You should be more careful," he says, his voice icy. "I won't always be here to save you."

I step away from Yuji, looking at Sukuna with a mix of gratitude and defiance. "I know," I say softly. "But I also know you'll protect me."

That night, while everyone sleeps, I find myself again with Sukuna. But this time, there's a tension in the air that I've never felt before.

"You saved me," I say, breaking the silence.

Sukuna crosses his arms, his intense gaze locked onto mine. "Of course I did. I won't allow something as pathetic as a curse to kill you."

"But why did you really do it?" I insist, stepping towards him. "Why do you care about me?"

Sukuna stares at me silently for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he speaks. "Because in this world of shadows and death, you're the only light I've found."

His words leave me breathless. There's a sincerity in his voice that I can't deny. "Sukuna..."

But before I can say more, Sukuna interrupts me, taking my face in his hands. "You're mine, little one. And I'll always protect you."

I can't deny the attraction I feel towards him, despite the danger he represents. There's something about his strength and darkness that draws me in, something I can't ignore.

As time goes on, my relationship with Sukuna strengthens. Although I know it's dangerous, I can't ignore the connection we share. Even as my friends notice changes in me, I always find an excuse to explain my behavior.

One day, while training alone, Sukuna appears once more. But this time, his expression is serious, almost worried.

"Something is coming," he says bluntly.

"What do you mean?" I ask, stopping my movements.

"There's a greater threat than anything you've faced before," he explains. "And you'll need to be stronger to survive."

"Will you help me?" I ask, feeling the weight of his words.

Sukuna approaches, his penetrating gaze locked onto mine. "I'll always help you. Because you're mine, and I won't let anything destroy you."

I feel a warmth in his promise, a reassurance that gives me strength. "Then, let's train."

That night, after an exhausting training session, I find myself alone with Yuji. His eyes look at me with a mix of concern and something deeper.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Yes, just... it's a lot to take in," I admit, feeling my emotions on edge.

Yuji steps closer, taking my hand. "I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens."

His words move me, and before I know it, I'm in his arms, seeking comfort in his warmth. But in the back of my mind, Sukuna's presence is always there, watchful and possessive.

As time goes by, the relationship between Yuji, Sukuna, and me becomes even more complex. I know that eventually, I'll have to make a decision. Will I choose Sukuna's intriguing and protective darkness, or Yuji's warm and comforting light? My life is entwined between two opposite worlds, and only time will tell which one will win my heart.

#itadori x reader #yuji itadori #yuuji x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #itadori x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic

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sassy-bi-latina · 2 months

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Dream final thoughts

I'm calm now. I actually think I won't say as much as originally planned cause I am no longer in the heat of the moment. But I still want to write about this show. Mostly cause I remember I wanted to do the same with GAP and then I didn't. My thoughts will be a mess so I'm sorry beforehand. I don't know where they'll lead throughout the post. SO LET'S FIND OUT TOGETHER.

I'll start by saying, I have read 5 books of Chaoplanoy (GAP, Blank, Dream, Us and Mate). Against my better wishes. I do this because my brain gets anxious by not knowing what happens. So reading the books helps me because it gives me a better idea where it'll go. It sometimes gives more insight to the characters like in Dream or The Secret of Us (which isn't a Chaoplanoy book but serves as an example). It also helps me see the adaptation in a different way and sometimes it helps me appreciate it more, for example, in Blank, which the book felt like Nueng was a bit predatory but the adaptation imo was so good, it just felt like a love story with two people with an age gap and nothing else which the book failed to deliver.

Okay, that being said, I said against my better wishes because if you know me and you talk to me, you will know I do NOT like Chaoplanoy's writing whatsoever. At first I thought it might be issues with translations but as I read more stories, I started to perceive patterns in her writing style that I didn't like.

Onto her adaptations, IDF gave us the biggest GL in recent times, they weren't the first to propose doing one, they just were the fastest so I think they got lucky. And I won't take credit away from the actresses nor the team behind GAP, but I genuinely feel like whomever had taken the first step would have been a success. IDF just so happens to be the first.

I will say, IDF released an initial pilot trailer that looked promising and while the editing and some of the acting choices didn't convince me as much, I was very sold with the plot points. And I think some of the things that distance themselves from the original book were a bit more interesting, like the focus on Song's relationship and the focus on the second lead couple which was scratched till the point they were just crumbs what we were getting. At the end, they decided to change some things at the beginning and then on the second part decided to be more loyal to the book. Which for me didn't work as much. Don't get me wrong, I did like GAP, I just think they did a disservice trying to initially take a different route to the book just to do a U turn and go back to it, because it didn't feel consistent.

And why am I saying all this about GAP when in theory it's my thoughts about Dream?

GREAT QUESTION MY FRIENDS.

And it's simply because while IDF "failed" in GAP by maintaining too loyal to the book they have the opposite issue with Dream, in which they lead astray so much and just didn't arrive to the heart of the people as well as it could have.

Dream, from the 5 books I've read has been the best one. Not only did I not actively dislike it, I genuinely enjoyed it and I genuinely think that had the show been more like the book more people would have.

For starters, a thing I've seen people complain about a lot is the lack of backstory of Kimwan. We're just thrust into their angst and they expect us just to feel for them without previously giving us anything to make us feel for them. That doesn't happen in the book. It starts with them as teenagers. We are told about the dreams, we are told how they met, we're actually told how they didn't get along at first. We get to see their school life. We see how they genuinely met (Mali was a loyal friend to Wan, a bit too loyal, and locked Kim in cause she didn't like how she treated Wan, which wasn't bad just Mali didn't like it). We ACTUALLY get to see Pam and how Wan and her had a rivalry going even them (just because Wan couldn't take someone being as pretty and equally admired as her).

We spend a couple of chapters just getting to know them, their bond just not between them two, but also with their friends. Did you know Kim got better at drawing because of Wan? The drawing she gave her during Valentine's? She practiced until late at night, because she has ALREADY given her a drawing that wasn't very good but she promised the next one was gonna be better, also because she knew Wan was gonna pick her next partner based on gifts.

Wan didn't end up confessing for the same reason as the show with the difference that the mothers WERE together, which was something I didn't like, and I did prefer they just kissed. But it made sense in the book that Wan never confessed, the mothers were together and she knew that would have broken Kim if she found out AFTER they got together.

Imo, in the show Wan could have confessed earlier cause they never actually got together but I guess she lost her bravery.

After we spent knowing them and loving them in highschool for a couple of chapters, which I think was at least 1/3 of the book we have a time jump where their story as adults starts.

The other thing is, we spent so much time with Marwin? Props for Heng, more work supposes that there's more pay for him but not so much for us. Marwin overstayed his welcome.

In the book, he was there but it didn't feel overwhelming. For starters, we know him at the same time Wan does. He is already established as Kim's boyfriend. Wan isn't thrilled but tries because it's Kim's choice. Kim never goes to work with him either. We also hear about the beach, but it's in passing, I think this, contrary to the highschool moments could have served better as a flashback. And tbh, in the show, contrary to the book, Kim seems more interested in Marwin, in the show he's just there. While in the book they have a genuine connection. You aren't necessarily rooting for him but it's understandable why Kim feels comfortable with him, which is exactly why Wan tries.

Another important thing that I think is lacking a bit in the show is that they kind of undersold Kim. Kim is as loyal to Wan as Wan is to Kim. I think one of the moments that reflects that best is in the scene where they're alone with Marwin's parents, in which, yeah they talked bullshit about Kim and Wan jumped them like in the show but then they started attacking Wan and that is Kim's limit. Matter of fact, Wan is surprised how Kim acts, so reassure and not taking anyone's bullshit and she says it herself, she doesn't care what anyone says about her but she will never let anyone talk shit about Wan.

Also, not only are they very loyal to one another, but they are best friends. Wan is actually with Kim when she receives the news about her mother having cancer, unlike the show, she's in late stages and I had hope they would change her dying but they didn't 😔, cause I'm the book she doesn't even receive treatment cause it felt hopeless. And I think stuff like that showcases their bond. I found it odd that you are going through that struggle and your first instinct isn't to tell your best friend even if they were fighting at the time, especially considering their bond.

Next up is the matter of the actual letter and the confessing their feelings. Yay for Samorn and her nosiness for saving her friends. But I actually did prefer how it happened in the books. Samorn, actually keeps telling Wan that she better act soon but she better not do anything on the wedding day, which is understandable. My girl is smart, she knew the consequences.

Wan doesn't throw the letter, or well, she does, on the shooting she's having that same day but our boy Pat picks it up and attempts to read it aloud and Wan is like "Hey that's mine" to which Pat responds with "Not anymore, you threw it". Wan ends up snatching it back and out of her OWN will reads it. By having Samorn taking a pic and telling Wan to read it, it feels like they took away a bit of Wan's autonomy. It just made me feel a bit weird about the whole scene.

I WILL say, the little moment between the four girls and the camping scene afterwards? Impeccable. Wouldn't touch it for nothing in the world. Marvellous. Gorgeous. Lives rent free in my mind. Thank you very much.

And last but definitely not least, the decline of Marwin. I think they shouldn't have cramped it all in the last episode. I think they should have taken 1 episode and a half of a slow decline, cause that's what happened, at first what Marwin started doing wasn't perceived much by Wan, she thought it was weird that both the fathers decided to retire early but nothing much until she realized it was Marwin. Which, btw, another moment in which Kim's loyalty is shown, she met Marwin behind Wan's back because she couldn't take Wan hurting, cause she wasn't getting much jobs done. But Wan interfered, which shows Wan's maturity imo, since she was like "Don't do that on your own. Every hardship we talk about it and we see how we deal with it TOGETHER" which I think is very sweet. Anyway, they did attempt to apologize together like in the show, and his villain monologue also happened but in the show it fell flat. I think it was better established how he became the very thing he didn't want to be. You knew beforehand his dreams and aspirations and how what he did he did it out of love (regarding his businesses) and not money.

I WILL SAY, I don't necessarily think the show is horrible. The actresses are amazing and have great chemistry. I really liked the secondary couple, although I wish we would have seen more of them. I did like they DIDN'T make the fathers soulmates like in the book. I adore the bond between the four girls. I like the inclusion of Pam and Dokrak. I liked Pat and him being such a nice guy. I also think Jessie was a fun addition.

I ALSO think, that with some different editing, rearranging some scenes the show would have been better.

I also think IDF needs to learn that people like angst but different shows and stories require different formulas because angst for the sake of angst isn't fun.

If you're here, thank you for reading this long ass post.

As a treat, some fun facts

- If you've seen Blank, you know that one radio show Anueng likes, well, in the book of Blank, Wan actually calls the station and explains her story with Kim.

- The singer of the MV is Pleng from the Affair book, series coming out this month, on the 30th.

- The other MV actress in the book is a reporter that had a scandal, if I'm not mistaken a sex tape of her with another woman was leak. I think I read somewhere that she also has a book 🤔. But I don't recall her name.

ANYWAY, with that. I leave. I probably didn't say a lot of the stuff I initially wanted but that's mostly because I'm calm now.

One final thing, IDF you shall pay for your crimes. And please give me fluffy Faymay. I DESERVE it 🥺.

PS. I do not want to be tagged as one of those persons that is like "Oh the book is better" and sounds bitchy about literally any adaptation. Far from it. Matter of fact, ask my friends, they'll tell you how much I dislike that IDF has me defending Chaoplanoy's books 😔.

An addition that I forgot and it's very much necessary: I wish they would have, at ANY point, made Kim tell Wan that they IN FACT slept together at the beach, she just gaslighted her cause she got scared? THAT WAS NOT A GODDAMN DREAM AND THAT'S THE HILL I'LL DIE ON!!!

#my marvellous dream is you #dream the series #kimwan #faymay #fay kanyaphat #may yada #idol factory

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moonpool-system · 6 months

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Plural Coining: Fronting Spoons

[pt: Plural Coining: Fronting Spoons]

There's a subset of spoon theory that specifies "types of spoons". This is the concept that different categories of activities can take different types of spoons, meaning that you could have spoons for one activity, say, going to the post office, but not the spoons for another activity, like doing the dishes. This is equivalent to how you, of course, couldn't eat soup with a grapefruit spoon- I mean you could try, but it sure would be slow and painful.

What I'm presenting is an expansion of that concept, for plurals trying to learn to hold front intentionally/on their own. Fronting spoons refer to the amount of energy you have to hold onto front, before the body/brain puts in whomever it deems "correct". For us, that's almost always me & my frontstuck subsystem, but it could be anyone for the individual system at any time. With examples though, I'll be using the same "default" headmate for simplicity. It takes energy to use the body and to stay co-conscious when you're trying to stop switching/coconning uncontrollably, and that's what fronting spoons are all about.

Let's go over some specifics and examples!

🥄 Fronting spoons work similarly to regular spoons, in that if you push past your limit, you'll likely end up burnt out later and regenerate your spoons more slowly while you recover. For example, Headmate A is the brain's default, and Headmate B is used to fronting a little bit daily. One day, B gets caught up in a long event, and stays in front the whole time. This exhausts B's fronting spoons - A stays in front for the next three days brcause B isn't able to access front due to needing to recover.

🥄 Fronting spoons are likely to be affected by any other differences and sways you find normal in the fronting schedule of your system. For example, the system is inside deciding on a video game to play. Headmates C and D like video games and indoor activities, so they might find they have a larger pool of fronting spoons at the moment than Headmates E and F, whom like outdoor activities and socialization.

🥄 Your system may find that being co-conscious and fronting take up a similar pool of spoons, with simply being conscious taking up less and using the body taking up more. This is how we experience it as the coiners and how systems we've observed do as well, but every plural is different, so please let us know if you find co-consciousness and fronting to have separate spoon pools! We would find it very interesting. As an example for this one, Headmate A has been in front all day, with Headmate B in co-con. Headmate B now wants to front for a short time, but B is exhausted from spending all day aware of front in co-con, and will have to wait until tomorrow.

🥄 Many guides for various types of created systems stress practicing switching little by little and building up skill over time. This is a possible way to build up your pool of fronting spoons so you can do more with the body in time. For example, Headmate G struggles with fronting and instead usually watches Headmate H. With Headmate H's permission, G tries to control only the body's voice for a short time, and finds that takes less spoons. G works on controlling the voice for slightly longer and longer periods, until G can now control limbs of the body as well. Now, G fronts for very short periods and slowly is able to stay for longer each time. Like exercise, G goes to the limit but doesn't push past it, and is able to strengthen G's personal pool of fronting spoons over time.

Feel free to add your own experiences or even contrast the details we've outlined here - we want this to be a concept that's community-built, and we're only one system's perspective. We hope everyone finds this useful!

#plurality #plural community #plural system #actually plural #spoon theory #neurodivergent #fronting spoons #system pride #plural help #plural #plural coining #plural terms #our plural terms #our terms

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suckerforcate · 2 years

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Hello I would love to see you writting more with Larisa Weems ,

It's new year and reader is teacher at school,she is sad cause last new year she come out an all family abandoned her. Larisa would comfort her and maybe they could share new years eve kiss ?

New Year

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Word Count: 731

Warning: abandoning after coming out

A/n: I just wanted to finish this before midnight, at least its not yet midnight were I live. I wish everyone a very happy New Year!! Ly all! <3

You stood on the small balcony of your classroom. Alone. The students and most of the teachers went home over Christmas break, but you knew you weren't welcome there anymore. Larissa told you that she would stay at Nevermore over the holiday, so you decided to do that as well.

Christmas had been a delight, it was just the two of you under the Christmas tree. She had gifted you her favourite book and the sweetest pullover. You had baked together and cooked the Christmas dinner. You had wished for it to never end but now?

You felt horrible. You hated New Year.

You weren't surprised as Larissa suddenly stood next to you. You two were the only ones in the whole school, where else was she supposed to go?

"I searched for you. I had expected you to come to my room again. What's wrong?"

Larissa probably was the best person you had ever met. Her whole being just radiated love and comfort for whomever might need it. She was kind, patient and supportive of everyone and everything. It was a rule that you could trust her with your heart. She had open ear at all times, and often it happened that students cane to her for help. And maybe right now you should do that too.

"I hate New Year. I used to love it, when I was younger we always used to play games. The whole family, all together. We had fun, cooked together and laughed a lot. It was the only time were we all were together. And last I had the brilliant idea to use this moment to come out to them. To all of them. I thought if I have them all together for it, I just have to rip of a bandage once. You know? But they took it horribly. The hate me and they made it very clear that they didn't want me home anymore. So now they are having fun, just like always while I'm standing in the cold alone. Hated by everyone, just because some stupid god I don't even believe in decided to make me gay." A few stray tears were falling down your tears. You could feel an arm around your waist, gently pulling you into a side hug. You turned to her and hugged her fully. Crying into her coat, leaving a slight mascara stain.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Can I do anything right?" You started crying again, a complete mess at this point. You just had to finally let it all out.

Larissa gently moved your head up to look at her.

"(Y/n), listen to me. You aren't hated by everyone. Your family is just foolish if they let such an amazing person go for a reason so stupid. I don't hate you, your students don't hate you, your friends and colleagues don't hate you, okay? And they won't even if they'll eventually find out that you are gay. This school is a safe place for everyone. And if you want it to be, it can be your home." She dried your tears with her coat and pulled you in another hug.

"I'd like that very much. Thank you." You mumbled into her coat, nearly inaudible.

"I think you are an incredible woman. You are kind, funny, strong, intelligent, beautiful. You have so many amazing qualities and I wouldn't want to spend my New Year with anyone else." You were so incredibly thankful for this woman. You couldn't put it into words. A quick look on the clock told you that it was 11:59. Maybe you could show her with actions. Right before the firework started you stood up on your tiptoes and pulled her in for a kiss.

Startled at first, she didn't move. You already thought you had ruined it all again, but suddenly she put her hands on your waist to steady you and kissed you back. It was your first New Year kiss ever. To be quite exact it was your first kiss ever in general. But you couldn't complain. It was perfect. Larissa pulled back and looked you in the eyes, a little out of breath.

"I hope that was alright, I didn't ask you-" you couldn't finish as she hungrily pulled you back in for another kiss.

Maybe you could love New Year again, if this was going to be a tradition.

#gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader #wlw #larissa weems x you #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednsday addams

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factorialsotherfandoms · 4 months

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Mild spoilers up to end of opd7, I'm making up backstory! This fic would be set around about the time of AOP, but the other side of the city.

Johnny is two stacks deep into stolen and useless paperwork when he realises that he is hungry. Checking his watch he finds it a bit after four in the afternoon. With a yawn he stretches and - and, fuck, right, no stretching.

A spike of pain shifts through his chest, radiating from the stab wound on his side. It’s exactly for that reason he is doing paperwork and not leaving it to his partner. Maybe he should, though? They met three weeks ago and dumped on this undercover mission, and Johnny isn’t quite sure what the fuck he’s done since. Pulled some documents off a computer, stolen paperwork while Johnny distracts whomever is there, dug out coordinates from the internet to find them the target even… Little that could neither be done from home or by Johnny himself.

And, Johnny is sort of aware that he is being disingenuous - he knows he couldn’t have nor decode the files to actually find the coordinates, gotten that computer working, nor trick the security system into letting them inside, but, fuck, he thinks he deserves it. He knows, he knows it isn’t Rubens’ fault that his training is insufficient, or that his response to someone pulling a knife was to completely forget his gun and freeze up at the first sign of danger - that is, again, a nobody bothered to practice with him problem - but, fuck, even running would have been more useful.

One run in with a cultist, just one, and two weeks of trying to convince Rubens to look Johnny in the eye was lost to the younger man locking himself in his room.

Not that that is the biggest issue - of course it isn’t. The biggest issue is the glaring stab wound in Johnny’s side, him having pushed himself between the blade and Rubens’ lungs.

Sure, Johnny is supposed to be helping him with the gaps in his skills, but fuck, it’s hard when Rubens won’t speak to him, eyes Johnny nervously every time they’re in the same room, and hides himself in his room over coming to the living room where Johnny can tell him things - if Sam hadn’t asked quite so nicely that Johnny keep an eye on them, he might just have let him get stabbed.

He wouldn’t, he’d never just let someone get stabbed - but, again, Johnny thinks he deserves to be a bit pissy right now.

The fact that the behaviour reminds him of some of the kids he grew up with? It doesn’t help much either. He was never much good at making them feel comfortable either.

Slowly he gets up, and keeps his torso carefully still as he goes to the kitchen. He absolutely missed lunch, and there’s still a while before dinner. He cannot reach all of the shelves without bending - standing was enough of a concession from the doctor Rubens had dragged him to, let alone bending - but there are a few.

Fridge is entirely empty, the first cupboard only has a bag of pasta… It’s enough pasta to finish out the week, but then they’ll need more shopping.

The next cupboard has some crackers and a pot of jam. It is only when he tries that Johnny remembers that he cannot reach up to them; he kicks the counter and a couple of bags of dried… apricots and pineapple from a bowl by the chopping board instead. Leaving them on the counter he goes to get himself a drink and-

And stubs his toe on a bag full of trash.

A bag of trash that he distinctly remembers reminding Rubens to take out, because the collection was at noon and Johnny couldn’t pick things up.

The next one isn’t for a while, and they cannot just have bags of trash lying around the apartment. There are other places to take it, of course, but with Johnny out of action…

He doesn’t want to talk to Rubens, not really, but… Well it cannot just stay there, can it?

Johnny abandons his snacks, and makes his way to Rubens’ room.

At least the apartment doesn’t have fucking stairs this time around.

---

He knocks on Rubens’ door. Johnny is not really expecting a response - Rubens never says anything - but he knows to at least try.

Sure enough, there is some shuffling around - Rubens clearly heard - but no actual response. Johnny sighs and pushes open the door, ignoring the twinge in his side as he does. He is met by the sight of Rubens sitting at his desk, already spinning around as he slams his laptop shut.

The headphones only come off a few seconds after.

Johnny recognises the look of utter panic in Rubens’ eyes, one not dissimilar from the wide-eyed expression he had made when that cultist pulled out the knife. Receiving the same look as a cultist aiming to kill makes something in Johnny’s gut hurt, but not as badly as the stabbing he took for him.

“You forgot to take the trash out again.”

Rubens’ face shifts a bit, first to confusion then to something else entirely as he checks his phone. He runs a hand down his face, squishing his palms into his eyes. Johnny, doing his best to be patient, waits for him.

“Where?”

Really? Not even an apology? “Where what?”

Rubens gestures a bit, hiding a yawn in his elbow as he shakes his head a bit, “taking it?”

Right. Because if they just put it out now, they’ll be done for blocking the pavement; there’s not another collection for two weeks.

And Johnny has no fucking clue where Rubens comes from, or anything really, but he himself is at least local, “should be some collection boxes near the park. Park on the east side, and should be there.”

He gets a nod from Rubens, who drags his hands over his face again before levering himself up. Johnny just stands and watches - fuck moving even a little hurts - as Rubens grabs a jacket from a heap on the bed.

Relatively sure that he is at least going to fix the fuck up, Johnny drags himself back to the couch. It is only after he sits down that he realises he left his lunch in the kitchen.

And, fuck.

He could get back up and get it, but… Just from standing in Rubens’ doorway it already feels a bit like getting stabbed all over again. So, it’s fine.

He’s fine.

He’ll just… settle in with some of the research. Look it over a bit more, delay until it’s late enough for an early dinner, and /then/ he’ll stand up again.

Behind him, he hears the front door slam shut.

At least the bins are actually getting taken out, then.

---

It is over an hour later that Rubens comes home, from what should have been a twenty minute job - maybe thirty if losing a tail. By the time the door to the apartment slams open and then shut, Johnny is past annoyed and deep into the worried territory. He waits for something to be called for him, a reassurance that this isn’t a home invasion, but nothing; just feet on the tiles, then clattering in the kitchen, and then another slamming door as he returns to his room.

Which, fine, it sounds like Rubens and calling would be more, not less, out of character.

Still, Johnny wishes he had been assigned literally anyone else to work with - or perhaps not put on this job at all. He hates undercover work, he hates the layers of games and pretence and story-weaving, and the months and months of work that can be ruined with a single wrong word.

And Johnny? He’s not /good/ with words; it’s one of the few things that he and Rubens seem to share.

He gives himself another few minutes of research, carefully still even as reads through another few printouts, before pulling himself back to his feet. And, fuck, his side strains at the movement, sharp pain rippling through him. It takes a few moments for Johnny to catch his breath before he actually heads towards the kitchen; someone needs to make dinner, and Johnny remembers what the fuck happened last time Rubens tried cook anything more complicated than microwave rice.

The kitchen is just the next room, but getting back there still takes some effort. One of the stools from the breakfast bar has been left near the fridge - Rubens must have been clambering on it to get something from the upper shelves, though hell only knows why he went up there since Johnny was last in here - and there are a couple of supermarket bags are on the countertop.

Bags, still containing items, because /someone/ could not be fucked to put them away.

But, Johnny tries to remind himself, at least Rubens thought to buy some. It does explain a bit of the clattering at least, and shows initiative. Johnny is sort of grasping for straws, but he doesn’t want to hate the guy he’s just… Failing to communicate.

Badly.

So fucking badly - it’s not even that communication is going wrong, it’s that it’s not fucking happening at all.

With dread in his stomach, Johnny pulls open the bags. If he’s left milk out…

A quick check shows that at least the correct things have made it into the fridge - all crammed into either the drawer or the bottom shelf, but perhaps it is all Rubens can reach, with the milk in the door. Johnny would put the rest away, if he could reach that high right now.

He’ll make Rubens do it later. For now Johnny sorts through the bags, looking for something more interesting than pasta and peas.

There is enough food for another week. Maybe more, if they are conservative or, more likely, order pizza again. There seems to be nothing within Rubens’ skillset to cook, but everything is easily within Johnny’s. A hint, perhaps, that would be taken more happily if Johnny were not injured still; it’s not that Johnny minds cooking, he even enjoys it - it’s relaxing - it’s just that with a knife wound between his bottom two ribs it is a nightmare.

He’s not bitter, he’s just… He’s tired, and hurt, and somehow they have to keep this up for months. He knows the other man is new to this, and everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and that they’re both adjusting, but if he could show a little more concern about the fact he nearly fucking died! Or, better yet, that Johnny got a knife in the side protecting him from one in the lung. And Johnny gets it, he really does, he’s even used to it; he knows Rubens is a waif of a man while Johnny is built like a particularly intimidating block of flats. He knows that Rubens cows even from talking to /Sam/, but seriously. If he can’t dodge a knife, he’s a god-damned liability.

And more than Johnny doesn’t want to hate Rubens, he doesn’t want him /dead/.

To make things somehow worse, it also seems they’re in too much fucking shit too fast for Johnny to be able to do his job and train him, especially when Rubens makes no motions towards /wanting/ help.

Johnny cannot help someone who won’t cooperate with him, and that’s the root of the fucking problem, isn’t it?

Next time, Johnny should just leave him here with the data - go deal with the leads himself, and just keep the man on call. It would be safer for both of them, if he doesn’t have to worry about Rubens, and Rubens doesn’t have to worry about knives. Having a gun is all well and good, but you need to keep steady enough to /use it/.

At least next time will not be for a while yet; Johnny isn’t so stupid as to charge in before his stitches are out, not if there is another option. Even if he was inclined to, they don’t exactly have a target. Even if they did, if they stumble into these assholes too often it will blow their cover. Even if it wasn’t… Well then someone else would be doing this shit, wouldn’t they?

There is nothing to be done right now, though, not about Rubens or about the mission, so he just… adds water to one of the saucepans, still on the drying rack, and places it on the hob. He pushes the stool over to where he can sit on it and cut vegetables, tossing two people’s worth pasta into the water before turning on the heat.

As that comes to the boil he grabs a random selection of vegetables from the grocery bag, peeling and chopping them into another pan. The peeler and wooden spoon had also been left out, cleaned but then left on the chopping board; only two people live in the apartment, and Johnny knows that he is not the one to blame.

Tomato paste, spices, some already portioned out mince-meat from the restocked fridge… Johnny does not have the energy to do more than throw it in the pan, but if it cooks it cooks.

About halfway through he remembers the salt for the pasta. Cursing, he throws in a random amount, and hopes for the best.

It does not take long for everything to be done. Johnny calls for Rubens to come get food as he drains the pasta, splitting it between two bowls before adding the sauce. Both go on the breakfast bar - already laid out with cutlery when Rubens did the washing up - and he waits.

And he waits.

And he eats his own dinner, only to find that Rubens still has not appeared.

It is not exactly unusual for Rubens not to eat with Johnny, but usually he at least appears to grab things and take them to his room, then an hour later to get the washing up done. When Johnny cooks, Rubens washes up. When Rubens cooks… Rubens also washes up, because he only gets to cook if Johnny is incapacitated.

Like most of the last week.

And Johnny isn’t worried, not exactly, he doubts the other man is stupid enough to have gotten shot buying groceries and tried to hide it, but… Well, he cannot help it a little bit. No matter how tense things are in the house, Johnny doesn’t /want/ shit to happen to him.

Rubens probably just had headphones on, again, and decided to worry Johnny by not hearing him.

Slipping down from the high stools is much kinder on his side than standing up from the sofa. It does not take even a minute to cross over to Rubens’ room and knock.

No answer.

Definitely worried now - Rubens does know better than to put the volume so high as to not hear him this close, and Johnny knows this is normal enough but he cannot even hear him moving or typing or anything and- and Johnny opens the door.

Rubens is sprawled out on his desk, slumped onto his keyboard. For a moment Johnny panics about being found, about something worse happening, until… No, he’s just asleep. Nobody broke in and hurt them, he’s just asleep.

Johnny… he means to just go and wake him, to drag him down to eat /something/, even if it’s some of the fruit and not the pasta, when his eyes catch on the desk.

�� The fuck?

There’s a selection of fruits, each slashed open - some neatly, some not - and about half pulled back together with butterfly stitches, or sticky gauze pads. Not from their actual emergency kit, but from another and new one - the bag is blue not green - that Rubens did not tell him about. There’s bandages, too, hanging loosely from Rubens’ arm - there’s no injury beneath them that Johnny can see, just… awkwardly tied bandages?

… Practising maybe…?

Glancing up implies that might even be true; open on the laptop and still playing into Ruben’s headphones, a woman in a paramedic’s uniform is demonstrating the recovery position. Two videos ago in the playlist is one on stab wounds.

Ah.

Johnny looks at Rubens again, notices the dark bruises under his eyes. Now that he thinks about it… Three nights ago when Johnny needed help with the bandages coming undone and texted him, Rubens had been there far too fast - and awake - to have been asleep. That had been at 5am, an hour Rubens had before their ‘field trip’ called an impossible hour.

Was he not sleeping?

Was this…

Johnny reassesses; every good agent needs to be able to reassess, to be able to admit that sometimes you’re just fucking wrong.

If Rubens is tired because he has not slept enough, that explains him forgetting the trash. But then why wouldn’t he sleep? He certainly had not been having problems with that /before/ the last mission, and it wasn’t like he was the one up all night from the pain of a stab wound… But the video, so… Was Rubens, what, worried? But then why… Surely first aid stuff is easier on other people? Johnny only knows the very basics, but practising bandages with only one hand sounds like a nightmare. Why would Rubens do it alone?

… Because even if Rubens is worried, Johnny is still intimidating. Johnny knows what he is, and it’s neither welcoming nor friendly. And, he is not exactly in the best mood right now. Indeed, he’s in a pretty fucking shit one, helped by the hour on the couch but only so much. First aid videos are not Rubens training himself not to get hit, but… It’s something. It’s looking for how to fix the consequences of failure, even if Rubens should really be looking for how not to fail in the first place.

Or perhaps that, too, is unkind - with wrists like his, Johnny doubts Rubens can take to the punching bags without hurting himself. Not without guidance, at least. Guidance which he’s too… awkward, scared, antisocial? To ask for.

And maybe this isn’t what Johnny would want from him… But it’s something, isn’t it?

Why do people have to be so damned complicated?

Trying to be a little gentle, Johnny shakes Rubens’ shoulder. It takes a moment but the younger man uncurls himself, and stretches, and yawns.

The cracks along his spine sound unpleasant.

The noises Rubens make as he blinks himself awake - clearly exhausted, now Johnny is looking for it - are unintelligible. After a bit of confused blinking, he finally manages a “Hm? Need me?”

“Food’s ready.”

No reply, but Rubens does kick back and ease himself to standing. It’s then that he seems to notice his laptop was left open, quickly slamming the lid down before… hesitating. Watching Johnny.

Does he pretend or not?

Johnny’s never been much for pretending.

“Can’t take you to the gym right now, but I can be a practice doll if you want,” he says. “Even got a stab wound if you want to give that a go.”

Rubens’ arms cross defensively over himself, “don’t joke about that.”

It’s possibly the most words Rubens has said in a go to him.

It is also not a no.

“Sure,” Johnny shrugs instead, trying his best to look like a man who hasn’t killed too many people to count with his hands alone.“There’s pasta on the side for you. If it’s cold, the microwave is there.”

“Thanks,” Rubens’ hands linger over the laptop for a minute, before he hesitantly raises it in a fist. “Like this?”

Johnny takes a moment to realise what is going on, then looks at it. It’s not… the best, but it’s better than what he’d been doing previously. “Almost. I can show you in the morning?”

A nod, but not a lot more. Rubens still looks… tense? Tense might be the right word, but they’ve never been Johnny’s speciality.

What is it, what is it… Ah. Right. Johnny might be the stabbed one, but Rubens was clearly /trying/ to hide what he was studying for whatever fucking reason. The fist shape feels like an offering, so how does Johnny accept if not in offering to fix it…

Fuck, why didn’t they assign anyone else to this mission? Johnny is not cut out for this mentoring thing.

“Err…” What is the problem… Oh, right, obviously. Needing help fucking sucks. “After that, could you show me how to not get viruses when I’m checking SD cards we find? I don’t want to take my laptop in for repairs /again/.”

“Sure,” Rubens’ tone is a little odd, and Johnny gets the distinct impression he is being laughed at. Or, perhaps, he’s just not seen Rubens relax before.

“... We good?”

Rubens gives him a thumbs up, before pushing past him and through to the kitchen.

At this point, Johnny will take it.

#ordem paranormal #opd fanfic #op fanfic #opd #johnny tabasco #rubens naluti #ordem paranormal fanfic #i'm happy with all sections but not quite how they fit together #johnny got chill time in the middle that's my excuse #we know they get along eventually! I've seen it!#but like. it must have been a bit of a pain getting there

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imdoingmybest0 · 1 year

Text

Bob was in a Frat??

..............................................................................................................................

Bob Floyds "Brothers" from college come for a visit to see Bobs new life in the Navy. The dagger crew find out that the man they nicknamed 'Baby' used to be quite a legend before they met him. Robert "Bob/Baby" Floyd x fem!character 18+, Minor DNI. Mature Themes, mentions of sexual exploits and alcohol consumption (all 21+)

..............................................................................................................................

Bob Floyd is a shy man, always the first to offer to be the DD and the type of guy to pull a drunk persons phone off of the bar, before Penny notices. Well maybe shy isn't the word to describe him. Quiet might be better, he's content to sit on a bar stool shelling peanuts shittily into a cup in his lap and speaking to whomever approaches him.

Which is why when the Dagger squad found out Bob was in a frat in college came as such a surprise. The thought of Bob rushing a frat, pounding down beer, and flirting with everyone in his vicinity is hard to picture. But here sat four of his 'brothers', chatting with Bobs new family surrounding a pool table.

"Yes sir!" said, Carlton, one of the frat brothers who was stood talking to of course, Hangman, "Sigma Alpha Epsilon, Bobby was actually the one who roped me into joining." he continued grinning at Bob who was leaning one hip on the green, felt table face red with embarrassment.

"Oh really," Jake said with a mischievous look towards Bob, "what made you wanna do something like that Bobby?", Hangman drew out the nickname in a teasing tone.

Bob shrugged, "Seemed like any easy way to make friends and add onto my resume."

Carlton laughed, "Thats not what you told me Bobby! I remember you saying 'Dude, think about it, beer and girls.' I don't think you were thinking with the right head back then, man."

"Now hold on," Jake cuts in, "that's where this tale gets too tall for me. I could believe that 'Baby on Board' here used to get hammered on cheap beer and maybe even saying 'dude'. But Bob? Chasin' skirts? That's unrealistic." He laughs lightheartedly, and Carlton joins in. Bobs face remains red.

"Well come one, cut him some slack." it's another one of Bobs 'brothers', TJ. "If I remember correctly, Bob could take home the first girl he took a shot with.", TJ claps a hand over Bobs shoulder. "Hell, one time I saw him walking a girl to the door in the morning looking like she was still comin' back down from heaven."

Another brother, Harris cut in, "But whenever they shut that door shut, you'd think she was in hell."

Rooster almost choked on his drink, "You're kidding me. Our Baby here had game?"

Bob smirks at Rooster, "What do you mean, had?"

Hangman cackles, "Oh come off it Bobby, I've never even seen you approach a girl, much less take one home."

"Well yea," says Bobs "I'm to busy takin care of you drunks to try."

"Oh really?" says Coyote, "How about we make a bet, if you can get a girls number in the next ten minutes, I'll buy all of us a round. If you can't, you buy."

Bob hands the pool cue he'd been holding to James ,the last of his frat pals who gave him a winning look, knowing either way they would be getting free drinks out of it. "Might wanna go make your order Coyote." Bob says as he makes his way into the crowd of patrons.

The group of men watch for a moment, occasionally seeing the tall, bespectacled man appear between pillars and people. He's gone for a moment before Harris says, "Three o'clock, the one in the pink and the one with the curly hair, at the high-tops." The group looks to see Bob, forearms casually resting on one of the tall chairs speaking to the two women.

He was turned so that the group by the pool tables could see when his lips moved but not enough where they could make out what he was saying to the two of them. He was leaning on the chair but made sure to give both of the women personal space. He casually pointed to one of their wrists, the woman touched her beaded bracelet and started talking quickly with a smile on her face. Bob nodded occasionally while she spoke and smiled when she made eye contact with him. He pulled out his phone, and showed the girls his lock screen, they both made 'awe' faces and smiled up at him.

He made a small gesture to himself, and the to the door, presumably to the port down the road. He nodded his head slightly to one side while speaking and the girls laughed. He gave a shy smile to the girl with the bracelet and adjusted his glasses and said something else. She blushed and glanced to her friend, who nodded excitedly.

Then Bob was pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to her, she quickly typed something into it, and handed it back to Baby Bobby Floyd.

Bob said one or two more words to the women and gave a small wave, before making his way back around the bar towards the pool tables.

Hangman slapped his hand on Carlton's shoulder as Bob approached in a swirl of whistles and congratulations with a shy smile and blush adorning his face, "I guess we are buyin' you boys a round then, huh."

..............................................................................................................................

A/N; I tried to make the two ladies pretty neutral so its easier to picture anyone as them :) I did kind of intend for the Bracelet and Bobs Lock screen to be a TSwift bracelet and a photo of Bob and his twin sister at an Eras concert but it could easily be a pet rescue thing and a photo of his pet, or whatever you'd like :D

- okay, bye, thanks for reading, luv u <3

#bob floyd #BobFloydoneshot #TGM #robert 'bob' floyd #bob floyd x female character #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bobfloydisagentleman #bob fucks #minors fuck off #top gun fic #tgm smut #tgm x reader

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lanaevyssmoved · 1 year

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how do you feel about people getting astarion’s scars as tattoos because when i saw it i was like uh….

so i was thinking about how to answer this question for a bit and i've come to the conclusion that my struggles because i am completely gobsmacked that in 2023 we still have issues like this

i am 29 years old, which i think is very important to bring up. i've been on tumblr for over a decade, i remember when people were actually doxxed over kinning a character who did a murder once. i remember when lives were destroyed over how people chose to love a video game character. i remember when an ask like this would cause a witch hunt that ended in someone being genuinely unsafe. i think asks like this can still be dangerous, and i can't post this without making that clear. while i'd like to think this wouldn't happen anymore, i can't say for sure, i think we need to have the self awareness of what can come, when our history, as in tumblrs history, is full of things like this being actually deadly. sorry if that's a little too serious for the vibe you're putting out, but that shit was fucking traumatising and i'm not gonna pretend it wasn't, so this ask was a little scary to receive and my upcoming honesty? i'm scared to put it out there on gut instinct alone haha (insert comment about astarion kinnies here)

astarion is a video game character with intent to make you feel things, good or bad. he is designed to tell a story and attach you to that story. he is designed to make your little brain juices sizzle when he says a funny or makes you sad. i'm sure this is obvious, but your concern for what people do with these feelings makes me think it might not be.

the scars are fucking cool design. they were made to be fucking cool. you're meant to look at them the first time you do and go WHOA.... it is very easy to appreciate the work and effort that went into them by whomever designed them, they have a lot to be proud about. if someone wants the scars as a tattoo because they think it's cool, more power to them. that's a fucking expensive tattoo, it would take a long ass time to be finished and heal, it would never be an easy decision for these facts alone.. and adults can do whatever they like with their money. he doesn't exist, he isn't real, he can't be offended by this, and you shouldn't be either.

and now i have to get sensitive with it because astarions story, whether you want to think of this or not, can, and will, resonate with abused people. many kinds of people of course, but most especially abuse victims. as a victim myself, parts of his story hit just a little too close to home and hurt. now think of someone who might have it hit closer to home than it did for me, someone who finds more connection with what astarion went through and what they went through. now imagine how important astarion is to that person, his reclaiming of autonomy, his reclaiming of agency, etc. i can see someone wanting the scars as tattoos because then in their mind they can be astarion and do what astarion did. they can be closer to astarion and use that strength to survive and push through. they can feel what he felt and survive (obviously it's not the same, but it's the symbolism). unfortunately you cannot dismiss that some people may be doing it out of a place of trauma and using astarion to help them heal. i'm not arguing whether or not this is healthy, i've certainly done similar in my youth when it comes to relating to characters who have been abused, we all find our ways to cope, and we all find our places of strength.

astarion doesn't exist, he was created in a game studio with intent to make you feel shit, as established already, including intent to make you feel so strongly you want to put pieces of him on your skin forever, like, that's a compliment when it comes to making characters. if afhiri had something on her skin that signified trauma, and someone wanted to permanently put that on their skin? wow, she means that much to you? you liked her that much? that's a gods damn compliment. and i cannot see those who worked closely with astarions creation seeing it any other way.

what i can say is that when i was younger, 20-23ish, i probably would have given it an 'uh...' too, but as i grew older i realised that life is draining, it is hard, and there is no room to healthily view video game characters as any more than some code and 3d model that exist exclusively to make you feel something strong enough that you might want them with you forever, because that's the end goal, to make you feel that strongly, and if you wanna spend that hard earned money you make on putting the cool scars on your back, or the scars that make you feel so emotional that you cry on your back, do it. let the character whose made this rough existence a little easier or mean a little more do that for you, and if you wanna express it through a tattoo, do that, it's your body, your flesh.

i'm rambling on because i am so passionate in that life is too short to judge others via this. our lives are too hard already, life sucks enough as it is. the video game character doesn't give a shit if his scars are a tattoo because he's not real. who cares? why do you care? no, seriously, why do you care? does this help you? is it good for you? is judging someone else's decisions an act that brings you actual, real joy? is that how you want to spend your time? where you want to put your free thoughts? you don't know them, their reasoning, what they're going through, and it shouldn't matter. because their body has absolutely nothing to do with you, and i find it weird and uncomfortable that you cared enough about what someone else does with their body that you'd send me an anon about it.

i don't know whether you were looking for validation, or me to generally think about this critically, but i cannot encourage the mindset of caring about this more than "wow, i hope it looks good because that shit gonna be expeeeensive!!!" i cannot encourage sending people anon asks about it, it is strange to do that. this was strange! it was a strange experience and i don't like it. but i couldn't ignore it.

astarion might matter to you, personally, but he himself as a video game character, doesn't, because he isn't real, he has no feelings, he cannot be hurt or offended. but the person getting the tattoo? they're real. they're a real life person with feelings. they can be hurt, you can hurt them. you can judge them and bring them down and make them feel guilty for their choices. deciding whether you are the kind of person who'd do that to a living breathing person over a video game character is something you need to do. do you want to be that person? i know i certainly don't

#ask #Anonymous #sorry for putting this massive ask on everyones dash this morning this just really hit me in the gut #i cried writing this lol dgkdfgd #please don't send people asks like this #don't invite others to be judgemental and unkind #don't encourage that.. not ever #please do better #sorry if theres typos or smth doesnt make sense #this became very hard to look at

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