#Gotta write it first lol

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Pictured: Loop being extremely normal as they lay in their shallow (homemade) grave as they meditate on existence and also if they have annoyed the Researcher enough THIS time for her to murder them and bury them alive.

(Spoilers - they did not annoy her even CLOSE to that much.)

And there is the required reverse image of Odile arriving - she's had a LONG day (i.e. previous loop), and due to this it will take ten minutes before she even acknowledges the shallow grave Loop is laying in, as she was distracted complaining about what Siffrin just did to annoy her.

----

I'd say there's context for all of that, because like...there IS context? Here's the link to the series of fics that HAS that context even! But also...even with context...can't say that it's going to make any of this less weird.

Mostly Odile is looping because due to Loop's wish the universe got rewritten to make Siffrin's repression and emotional issues (the ones bad enough to get him stuck in a time loop in the game) 'someone else's' problem...or at least that's Loop's best theory atm!

Regardless, context or not, I'm quite happy with how the pics came out, and figured I might as well post them here too.

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[kazutora-kurokawa]

What iffff poly hcs with kakucho x reader x izana ifkwim? I don't care if it's nsfw or fluff, just how would it be like? headcanons about it in general! ♡

Poly Relationship w/ Izana and Kakucho

♡ SFW and NSFW, fem reader, fluff, set in the corrupt Toman timeline, public sex/car sex, double penetration, double head??, oral->fem and male receiving ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷 sorry it's so late lol

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

SFW

💞 Izana buys you and Kakucho earrings that match his

💞 Kakucho tries to keep you out of gang related business, but Izana doesn't really give a fuck because he knows he can protect you regardless

💞 They have bodyguards following you everywhere, it's not like they don't trust you, they just don't trust other people

💞 Izana teaches you how to walk in heels, he'll literally teach you runway walks and Kakucho will cheer both of you on

💞 All three of you ride on a motorcycle together on the weekends, obviously Izana is the one driving (recklessly btw)

💞 Kaku cooks dinner and Izana treats him like a 50s housewife 😭 he rushes him like that'll make the food cook faster

💞 Izana plays guitar for you and Kakucho and learns all your favorite songs

NSFW

💞 Kakucho is the quiet type during sex, the most you'll hear is a few deep grunts. Izana is a lot more vocal though, he'll moan and whimper depending on what you're doing.

💞 Izana is really into public sex, the risk is high but the reward is far greater because he gets to see your fucked out face. Kakucho just goes along with it because why the hell not? That's how you end up in the backseat of Izana's car, lying on your back as Izana fills your pussy and Kakucho fucks your throat.

💞 Izana and Kakucho both love giving you head, usually simultaneously. They love seeing you writhe in pleasure and become a whimpering mess underneath them. Their tongues rub together as they glide them on your clit. They don't even have to fuck you for you to be fucked out, and they're obsessed with having that amount of power over you and your body.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

[jadecantcreate]

i wanted to write a quick 3-chapter fic for day 4 of loa shiptober (how they met i think) and i (a fool) was like. yeah. i could totally write 3 chapters in a few hours. i was wrong. SO wrong. haven’t even finished kremy’s (the first one).

so instead have a maybe-past-kremy design that im conflicted about compared to his current design, as a peace offering

[ahappydnp]

being a full adult during ii was so funny

like just sat there while dan and phil worked it out in the remix with the 14 year olds who were yelling at them to kiss

[crybaby-bkg]

You and Bakugou had discussed your plans of your future pretty early on in the relationship. You wanted to move in by this time, be engaged at this time, have your wedding, enjoy married life, and then have kids. Only thing now, is to have kids. But the problem?

Bakugou keeps pulling out.

You’re not sure what’s going on, where the hold up is coming from. You went through all the steps of getting off your birth control, prepping your body for what’s to come. The only thing you need is him, and for some reason, he keeps denying the last piece of the puzzle.

You confront him finally, after another night of him wiping down your stomach and inner thighs. You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling with a soft frown. Bakugou pecks at your collarbone and squeezes your flank to hear you giggle, but you only shuffle a little away from him. He pauses, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he stares down at your crumpled expression.

“What’s going on?” He hums quietly, brushing a few hairs from your forehead as he throws the washcloth on the ground. He holds your face in both hands, kissing gently at your skin when he sees your bottom lip wobble in frustration.

“Why won’t you cum inside me?” You snap, cringing as the words leave your mouth. You could’ve said them a little more gracefully, but it’s hard finding grace when your life plans have suddenly come to a halt without a word on his part. Bakugou’s eyes bulge in confusion before a soft look passed over his face. He sighs, body slumping on top of you heavily, knocks the breath from your lungs and the tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, flinching a little when you pinch his side.

“How couldn’t I have noticed? I thought this was our final step to completing the life we wanted together. What happened?” Your voice gets softer with every word until you’re nothing but a whisper in the quietness of the room. Bakugou doesn’t say anything for a long while, just breathes in the scent of you before murmuring quietly,

“I don’t think I’ll be a good dad.” He confesses. You’re not sure if you should stop him and reassure him, but he takes a deep shaky inhaled breath in, and you decide to let him continue.

“I don’t wanna be an absent father to the only brats I’ll ever have. They deserve to have someone be there for them, every step of the way. I don’t think—I don’t think they deserve to have a fucked up person as a father. ‘S not fair.”

You can only lay there and listen, rubbing gently at his back, over his scars and still healing wounds. You run a hand through his hair and blink away tears when you feel his sniffle more than hear it. You both stew in what’s been said for what feels like hours before you speak up.

“How can you say that, when we’ll have the safest kids on the block?” You whisper, pulling his face from your neck so he can look at you, wipe away the stray tears that muddle his ruddy cheeks.

“Knowing you, Katsuki, you’ll be there no matter what. No matter what strings you have to pull, time you have to sacrifice, how many times you’ll have to break your neck—you’ll be there, because you always are. For me, for our friends, your parents, for the shitty civilians that never wanna listen to your instructions.” Bakugou chuckles a little at that, mumbling a quiet, shitty extras, under his breath. You smile at him, leaning forward to kiss his eyelids and eyebrows and forehead and nose and cheeks and lips. When you pull back, he smiles softly, just a quirk of the corner of his mouth and blinks up at you like some big cat.

“You’ll be a great dad, because you’re a great person first and foremost. And our kids will love you unconditionally because you are their dad.” You whisper to him, pressing a final kiss to his lips for the night. With that, you two lay together, discussing possible plans on future endeavors, how you guys will work together when the kids are here, time taken off and how it’ll be spent together.

So, it shouldn’t, but it comes as a surprise months later when Bakugou wakes up one morning to find an empty ceramic mug sitting on the kitchen table. You’re sat beside it, failing to hide a grin behind your own mug you sip at, a new one he hasn’t seen before. He looks at you funny, before picking up the mug, eyes bulging out of his head as he reads what’s on it, and the little capped stick inside.

He doesn’t say anything as he embraces you, pulling you up from your chair and hugging you to him as your giggles fill the atmosphere of the house. The quiet house, that in a few months, won’t be as quiet for much longer.

[tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land]

Just some kids

[longtallglasses]

Are you working on anything new that you'd be willing to share 👀

i am working on the big bang, but can't share yet - and have two (2!) halloween ideas...

this is from my mid-00s internet/youtube au

[adreamingrevenant]

You've heard of 'Yuu is a Chernobog Parallel/Expy' and probably 'Yuu is a Firebird Parallel/Expy' (Which is SUCH a fire take pun unintended that I would love to yap about at some point as well as the KotD-Yuu-Silver changeling connection (among the venn diagram for it), now get ready for:

Yuu is a Enchantress (Beauty and the Beast 1991) Parallel/Expy

Ya know, this lady:

[pencilofawesomeness]

Guys I'm having such a bizarre moment. I didn't expect to win like this, or to have my personal headcanons be confirmed so directly, but I also feel simultaneously robbed because Akutami is reaching into my head /jk

We received so little about Sukuna, but those brief brief brieeef moments of existentialism really caught me and I've thought about him for so long because of it. He was a fantastically terrifying villain, but there was always that dissonance there, between some of his words and actions, that portrayed that aimless longing and hurt and what that meant as a characterization point, and I'm honestly so hyped we turn around and get this in 271:

(scanlation for this panel because I think it gets the sentiment across better)

Followed by

I'm—

Y'all I started my draft for my Sukuna Reincarnation AU months ago and I never expected canon to validate me. They leave it easier and more open-ended, of course, but I'm coming on the record to say I wasn't crazy for my stretch of a character exploration and also I called it.

I won't go into the specifics of my "study Sukuna like a cockroach" notes now I just wanted to come grab the mic and announce that I beat Akutami to it >:D /lh

I'm being a good noodle and not stretching myself thin by starting a new multichap now, but I've had With the Storm in the works since January, and in light of the end of JJK and this lovely little tidbit, I'm tossing a sneak-peak from Chapter 7 because why not:

But maybe it could be. Maybe, just maybe, Uraume could accept this proffered hand and continue to hope.

---

Yet… things were different now. Things changed. Uraume changed, Sukuna changed, and even though they were still themselves, there was a myriad of shifts that piled on their shoulders until something gave way. Maybe a subconscious part of Uraume had braced for that to be a crash, but instead, Sukuna had been nothing but accepting and open. It only made them more nervous about losing him, just as they feared losing Pops. Uraume was not used to wanting, or hoping, but there was a powerful need in their chest that childishly demanded that they should get to keep both their kinder father and this happier Sukuna close, even if that may not be possible.

They nodded, not trusting their words at the moment, and Sukuna relaxed slightly.

“Good. Though that reminds me… You never really answered my first question. What do you want to do? With this life, I mean.”

There was that want again. Uraume felt the pull at their lungs until it was unbearable. They knew what he was asking; the question didn’t hinge on his involvement anymore, just them. Sukuna said he wanted to live peacefully, so what, then, was Uraume’s answer?

As much as they felt like a coward saying this, maybe that was okay. Sukuna felt the same way, after all. “I like this life too…” Uraume answered, and it was very different saying those words aloud. “Pops isn’t a shaman at all, and he’s good company and a good father. If I wasn’t able to find you, or you were not of this world, then… I would stay as his family.”

“That’s good,” Sukuna agreed, lifting yet another anxious weight from their chest. “I get that. Nobody else in my family are shamans either—at least, not really—and they’re all good people. It’s a good life, and even though I would have never expected it… I don’t want to lose it.”

It was amazing how similar they were, then and now. Uraume…really shouldn’t have worried about a lack of understanding. Sukuna didn’t have to say it, but it was clear that their thoughts had wandered down a similar road yet again. Their families, full of normal people living normal lives, were an unexpected treasure; to willingly become a monster, to become a scourge upon the world for whatever reason, would forfeit that. More than that, having people to care about made the desire to spread destruction lessen, rather significantly. Maybe that hurt and rage and bitterness was still there, in between their ribs, but in the ones that were dead and buried—a part of them, but also not quite there anymore, like when a scar ceases to constantly itch and ache and becomes only a mark on functioning skin.

They didn’t have to be monsters anymore. There were calmer, kinder things available to want—available to receive, even.

“This is so weird,” Uraume blurted, staring at their small hands and thinking of the strange miracle their lives turned into.

Sukuna barked a quick laugh before it was muffled into something like a snicker. “I know, right?” He leaned back in a stretch, his face catching the sun and lighting him in something that wasn’t a fire, but equally bright. “It’s not bad though.”

It was weird, to be a child, to be without some far-off goal, to be loved and happy, in the sense that it was absurd and foreign and absolutely unexpected. It was a breath of fresh air after years and years of having frozen lungs. Weird, surprising, but unmistakably good after so long of believing that no such term, deceptively simple, could have ever been applicable.

“Not bad at all,” Uraume agreed, a bright and blooming thing in their chest as their life began to slot into a new place. Still open-ended and perhaps a little terrifying for it, but Pops accepted them, and Sukuna accepted them, so maybe they could truly accept themself now, and whatever that will look like.

[artsymephy]

How would modern Philip look like with long hair?

Like the sweet boy he used to be (:

[zoros-debt]

hii i’ve been looking for long well written zonami fics and i was hoping you could recommend the best stuff you’ve read. i don’t mind any site i’ll even take wattpad at this point ;—; there’s waay too little of this pair on ao3 and so many works i’ve seen are abandoned. help a girl out thank youuu 🫶🏼

Oh man, I wish I could tell ya! I haven't had the time to read fanfics lately, so I'm not sure if there are any recent ones I can recommend.

If you're a long-time ZoNami fan, you might've already heard of these two completed M-rated fics by AshaRose on Fanfiction.net:

Mystery Pants

Memory

And there's one completed explicit fic that I've been meaning to read on AO3 by StillPurplePanicking: Dry Spell

If you've already read these, I can only apologize lol - there just aren't too many fics out there for ZoNami, and it's been a long while since I've last read a long and completed ZoNami fic. I want to write more to add to the collection of ZoNami works out there, but it's been tough finding time to work on 'em.

My one attempt at a long fic is still on hiatus, but I'm hoping to jump back into it soon! It's unfortunate, but the ZoNami drought is real 🥲

(A shoutout to @harritudur for feeding us all those goregous ZoNami art during these tough times!)

[evilfloralfoolery]

Love Bites: Romantic Operatic Fuckery

Yep, this again lol.

The vampire coerces the werewolf into going to see a bit of Mozart. Sort of.

As a reminder: Vampires. Werewolves. They do what those creatures do.

____________________

“I listened to some of this,” Marrok says.  “I thought Mozart was all about some funny and happy shit. This ain’t that.” 

“Did you believe that I would not take you to something worthy of your ears?” Lucian gestures to the curtained stage. “This is ‘Don Giovanni,’ one of Mozart's most grand achievements.” 

“Hmn, okay.”  Marrok scratches the space beneath his chin with a curved nail.  “What’s it about?”

Lucian smiles, the tips of his fangs showing.  “Promiscuity, infidelity, and murder.” 

“Huh.”  Marrok sits back in his seat, dark hair spilling over one shoulder.  “That actually sounds . . . good.”

“It is more than ‘good.’ It is magnificent.”

Much like his companion on this fine evening.  Marrok is dressed in unrelenting black, a combination of his own design with a jacquard vest beneath a more modern tailcoat with strategically placed metal studs that is more “goth rock” than it is operatic formal attire.  But Lucian has no complaints.  The mere fact that the werewolf is wearing a coat of sorts is nearly unheard of, a concession that he has made purely for Lucian’s sake.

The sentiment has not gone unnoticed.  

He nudges Marrok’s thigh with his own, lays his hand upon it with a squeeze. “Have I told you, mon cher, that you look lethal and divine?”

“You have.”  Marrok leans in close enough to run the utmost tip of his tongue along the shell of Lucian’s ear.  “But you can say it again.” 

“Rapscallion,” Lucian says.   

Marrok flashes him a smile that showcases both sets of canines. “Don't fuck with me or you'll be watching my face instead of the stage while I devour you.”

“Right here? Amongst all of these mortal gazes?” Lucian feigns a gasp, one hand upon his heart. “Why, I am scandalized!”

“Yeah,” Marrok rumbles. “Just like this.” 

Massive hands cup Lucian's face and Marrok kisses him with brief, but passionate fervor. 

“Well,” Lucian murmurs against his mouth.  “Scandalous, indeed.” 

The lights dim and the overture begins and Lucian is grateful for the change in lighting.  Why must mortals have the interior of everything bright as the midday sun?  Infuriating, to say the least.  At least he could manage without the sunglasses indoors.

For the most part.  

The effects of his latest sunlit excursion still persist, however.  Twenty minutes into the performance, Marrok is silent and attentive to the onstage antics.  Not at all what Lucian had expected.  

There is, of course, the occasional wince during a piercingly high note from the soprano or the ghastly idiocy of the assistant principal violinist, who clearly has the ear of deaf man.  Lucian himself does his fair share of teeth grinding aggravation.

“The fuck is wrong with that guy?”  Marrok’s breath is warm against his ear.  “The violin player.  I’m about to go break that screech plank over his head.”

Lucian nods. “Would it be unethical of me to drain him for such heresy?”

“No,” Marrok scoffs a laugh.  “I’d eat his heart in a fucking second.” 

“Hmn.  Better perhaps to consume his fingers, non?”

Marrok chuckles. “Something like that.” 

And while Lucian does his best to feign that nothing is out of the ordinary, things within his body are certainly amiss.  Particularly within his sinuses.  

Now?  His immortal body is choosing this moment for such nuisances?  Honestly . . . 

Lucian rifles through his inner coat pocket and cups the still-folded handkerchief in his palm for an instant before clamping it over his nose to muffle a tightly contained “Hhhuh–NKGT!”  His breath hitches and his chest heaves. “. . . IHHKGGTCH!” 

Marrok's hand  lights upon his own and squeezes. “You okay?” 

Lucian nods with a sniffle. “Yes, mon cher.” 

He tucks the handkerchief back into his jacket as Marrok's arm settles around his shoulders. 

He does, however, lean into the gesture just a touch, which elicits a dark rumble of approval from his companion. 

But putting away the handkerchief so soon was not the soundest decision. A pre-incident paralysis seizes him and he stifles the sound against the back of his hand with a clenching “--NXGT!” The one that follows is near silent, but the shuddering of his shoulders is far more pronounced. 

“Goddamn,” Marrok swears under his breath with such displaced frustration that Lucian chuckles. 

“Tres désolée,” ¹ Lucian says. “I could not prevent it.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Marrok says, but the words hold no true irritation now. 

After a good hour or so, the end of the first act signals an intermission and the werewolf clearly needs some air. 

Or perhaps, something more vital. 

______________________________________________________

A brisk walk around the fountain seems to cool the werewolf's near boiling need just a touch, which is, of course, amplified by the impending full moon.

“You're making it hard for me to pay attention to the damn story,” Marrok says, his fingers laced through Lucian's own.

The vampire offers him a coy smirk. “And for this, I am not sorry.”

“I'm so goddamn shocked.” Marrok rolls his eyes. “You French fuck.” 

Lucian laughs, but the sound is cut short by the very thing that has been incensing his companion for much of the evening.

He  holds up a hand in a halting gesture and leans away, the other hand pressed against his against the side of his nose in deflection.

“Hhih-iiih. . . ! HiihIESSCHHUh! –UhhISSCH! Hhk. . . ISSSCH–iiUUH!” 

The way his shoulders heave and shudder in such a horrid betrayal of decorum is mortifying, but not nearly as much as the fact that he has misplaced his handkerchief. Which, of course, had forced this ghastly display of indecency in the first place.

But Marrok has come to his rescue, pressing a clean fold of cotton into his palm. 

“Ah, such keen foresight you have,” he says, his voice softened and a bit breathless from the covert indiscretions of his body. “Mon dieu, that came upon me with such suddenness.” 

“Yeah.” Marrok's voice is a low, penetrative bass. “Yeah, it did.” He grabs the edge of Lucian's coat and pulls him into a claiming embrace. “I kinda feel like I should say something to you.” 

“What something?” Lucian arches an eyebrow.

“Whatever it is that humans say to each other. They still say it, right?”

He laughs at the absurdity of the thought, as does his companion. 

“Indeed, they do.” Lucian smirks as he meets the werewolf’s stare. “But that would be nonsensical, non? Blessing the damned.”

“But. . .'' Lucian drags a nail along the most delicate skin of Marrok's neck near the base of his throat. “You may say it to me, if it pleases you.”

“Nah, it's weird.” Marrok's claws sink into the shoulder of his coat. “Gonna do this instead.”

Marrok cups Lucian's face between his massive palms and imparts a growling kiss unto his lips.

“I'm wanna eat your fucking face,” Marrok murmurs against his mouth.

“Mmn, and here I believed your kind to be far more partial to the heart.”  Lucian nips at his lower lip and Marrok’s growl becomes increasingly more wolf and less human. 

The werewolf pulls back enough to showcase just how gleaming yellow his eyes have become, a tiny beading of blood upon his bottom lip.  And the ears.  Marrok never had bothered to hide those.  Decidedly pointed. And of course, the canines.  

What a magnificent, intimidating beast.  Remarkable in both mind and body.  Truly lethal, yet with the capability for chivalry and decorum.  

Lucian slides a hand over Marrok's cheek, nails skimming the skin with the most delicate of touches. 

“Je t’aime,” ² he murmurs.

Marrok cocks his head, ensnaring the fingers in his own.  “Yeah?” He pulls Lucian into a tight cinch of an embrace, pressing his forehead to that of his companion.  “You're mine.”  The kiss that follows is breath-stealing in its claim. “Say it.” 

Lucian’s voice is like warm velvet, softened by the wind. “I belong to only you.” He brushes a kiss over the hollow of Marrok's throat where the skin is visible and enticing through the cover of his scarf. “Only. To you.” 

Amber eyes flash back to bright yellow. “Je t'aime aussi.” ³

For once, the werewolf's accent is near perfection. 

“Ooh.” Lucian shivers, taken aback, a hand upon his chest. “You have been practicing, non?”

“Maybe.” Marrok tucks a loose strand of pale golden hair behind Lucian's ear. “Wanna skip the second half of this and go for a hunt instead?”

“Such a romantic,” Lucian says.

But he concedes to the change in plans nonetheless. 

__________________________

1- So sorry

2- I love you

3- I love you, too.

[dootznbootz]

Diomedes appreciation ask :3

Ohoho >:3

Let me preface by saying that Diomedes to me is not like how most of the fandom view him

The Boy King who is basically like the TV Trope of "Small child with Propeller hat, lollipop, and tricycle" but instead of that, he's "Young babyfaced man" and replace all those items with a helmet, a spear, and the tricycle with a chariot :D AND THEN COVER HIM WITH BLOOD!

That's Diomedes to me. :3

As idk I kind of imagine him being around 20-21 while most of the other Achaean Kings are late 20s to mid/late-30s

He's young and incredibly experienced in war and that's basically where he feels the most comfortable. He is one of the youngest kings there, who VERY much looks up to his elders and respects them while also wanting to "be a proud king" as well. He's just a child soldier among these actual warlords. As, let's be real, Diomedes would probably suck at Diplomacy. Because he never really got to DO it. Even when he told off that messenger from Troy about how Paris was willing to give back the treasure he stole, that wasn't...very tactful. lol) I love that he has this almost "Notice me, Senpai" energy around the older guys lol

I love that he's basically the embodiment of Athena's "war" side. He follows orders very well (basically too well (Yes he mouths off and that time Zeus had to yell at him. I know. but he was in a battle frenzy)) He's very respectful of Athena despite already being favored by her. There's a lot to unpack for this poor guy with being a child soldier ;~;

AND I FUCKING ADORE HIM AND STHENELUS. THEY ARE SUCH FUCKING BROS. STHENELUS IS BASICALLY HIS LIL CHEERLEADER AND I LOVE IT. They're like a Traumatized bonded pair. Epigoni guys!!!

To me I always imagine him being short af because I really love the "Oh, he's so young and small! What's he gonna do?" only to get annihilated stuff. Smol rabid dog energy >:3

Also, bit of a headcanon but you know he thinks that Achilles was fucking pampered and spoiled xD "You think you're hot shit? Try being in wars since you could walk, Centaur boy >:( "

[apomaro-mellow]

What about making this Steddie? https://www.tumblr.com/morganbritton132/734155837432594432

Pretty pls?

Oh this is so cute how could I resist?

Steve's mornings started with a stop at the cafe down the street from his home. Not only was it close, but his friend/gym buddy Chrissy worked there. So they got to shoot the shit while she made his drink. But today was different. Because this time when he walked in, he didn't see her bright, bouncy ponytail. Instead he saw a dark, more limp one behind the counter, mopping away.

"Be right with you", the man who was not Chrissy said.

Steve had been out in the world. He had lived in it. He'd seen his fair share of hot cashiers. But this guy seemed tailor-made to make him tongue tied.

"What's your poison?"

Thank god for routine because it was the only reason Steve remembered his usual order and gave it to the man with tattoos on his arms. Was it hot in here? It felt hot.

"Order up for Steve!"

Steve took it with a thank you and took a sip as he turned away to leave. Only to freeze when he actually tasted it. He turned back to the barista, thinking it must be some kind of joke.

"Enjoy your drink!", he exclaimed, then went back to cleaning the counter.

Steve nodded and was going to go but not before Chrissy caught him while bussing a table.

"So, how's the drink?", she whispered like they were in cahoots.

"How could you let someone make a drink like this? I feel like I just got my teeth kicked in", Steve whispered back.

"And are you gonna tell Eddie that?", she grinned.

"...His name's Eddie?"

"Mhm, so that's a no. Well, Eddie's new and he's an old friend of mine. He's still technically in training. But you told him he made a good drink. Which means he's not going to listen to me when I say he's not ready."

Steve glanced back at him, there was definitely more of a pep in his step and as bad as this coffee was, he couldn't say it to his face. Chrissy shook her head.

"I can't believe Eddie of all people disarmed the weapon of mass bitchiness. Well now he's gonna be the one making your drinks until you tell him."

"Chrissy, please..."

"Enjoy your cup full of looooove~", Chrissy teased.

-----------------------------

And Chrissy made good on that promise/threat. Every time Steve came in now, it didn't matter who was working, Eddie was always front and center to make his drink. And every single time it was horrible. The peppermint mocha tasted like toothpaste. The caramel macchiato was sickeningly sweet. One time his coffee was even salty!

Each time Steve took a polite sip and told Eddie how delicious it was. He deserved and Oscar. Eddie would talk to him while he made his drink, somehow even when it was busy and he was taking orders from other people (orders that would be made by other, more experienced employees).

Steve learned that Eddie and Chrissy knew each other in high school, that he played in a band, and he didn't drink coffee.

"Odd place to work, don't you think?", Steve asked.

"Yeah, but you blow up ONE engine and suddenly three years of good work mean nothing."

Steve took a step back away from the counter while Eddie wasn't looking. They had a good thing going. So good that about two weeks in, Eddie asked him out. He bragged to Chrissy about it and while she was happy for them both, something in her smile seemed suspicious.

They went out, dinner and a movie, a classic. Then they went back to Steve's place and Eddie rode him like a horse.

When morning came, Steve was awakened by the soft morning rays of the sun and the soft kisses Eddie was giving him. Steve let out a soft moan when he smelled something off.

"Are you making something?", he asked, eyes fluttering open.

"Just some coffee, sweet thing. I know how you like it." Eddie got up from the bed to finish and Steve's eyes bulged open as he realized what was happening.

"EDDIE NO!"

[gh0sthands]

whumpee is possessed by a ghost. it's obvious it's happening, caretaker can see whumpee struggling to try and regain control of their body. whumpee's eyes are glowing and the voice that comes from their mouth is both whumpee's and the ghost's.

the ghost only wanted to speak through whumpee. once whumpee is finally set free, then fall to their knees. they shake, they cough up ectoplasm, it drips from their nose, their eyes, their mouth.

maybe whumpee has been possesed before. they're terrified that like, like people always do, caretaker will be terrified, grossed out, etc. they expect caretaker to leave them.

but caretaker doesn't. caretaker rubs whumpee's back as whumpee chokes on the sickness. they hold whumpee's hair back if it's long enough. "get it out, you'll feel better." when whumpee finally collapses on their side, their whole body aching, caretaker lays a blanket/cloak/jacket over them, laying whumpee's head in their lap, shushing them to rest. "shh, it's okay. deep breaths. you can rest. i won't leave you."