#Granted he might have SOME chance of getting good at it - he did manage to learn basic karate back in “Squid Defense”...

[seastarlily]

Okay, so this is random, but if any of you ever wanted to see 27-year-old Rodger Bumpass (Squidward) wearing boxing gear then boy do I have good news for you.

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

[mistressroxielove]

Hey everyone~ I got some more stuff for ya~

Long story short, I've discovered the new Fairly Oddparents reboot, absolutely loved it and was inspired to make this AU idea for the show! With a slight reimagine/redesign of the characters as well.

Here's some more info about my AU:

Fairly Odd Parents AU/Rewrite

Au Name: FairlyOdd Brother

Summary:

Perri (previously known as Poof) recently graduated from Fairy Godparents School and is eager to start granting Wishes for his very own godchild! Only problem is that with his lack of experience Jorgen is weary of giving him an assignment and keeps finding excuses/reasons to not give him a godkid. Realizing it might be a 1,000 years before they give him a chance to be a Fairy Godparent, Perri decides he needs to be a little bold and perhaps, bend Da Rules, to get his foot in the door so to speak. And his answer comes to him from a new neighbor in his human home, a family with a sweet shy 10 year old girl who is absolutely miserable. Perhaps Perri might be able to offer this girl a little comfort and fun as her new Fairy Godbrother!?

(Basically the same premise of the show, except Perri’s first godchild is Hazel, and through a technicality in the rule book, becomes her god brother instead of her godparent.)

ALSO please note this AU is more of a slight reimagine of the original show, meaning I did tweaked / changed some of the characters personality to match the new story I made for them. Nothing majorly different, but again just a heads up before you read on. Hope you like it~

Name: Devin “Dev” Dimmadome 

Age: 9/almost 10

Sex: Male

Physical Description: 

Is basically the same as in the show, though there are a few key differences. 

-Despite having slicked back hair he always has a single strand that no matter what always sticks out, he hates it and is always trying to move it back into place but to no avail. In reality without the hair product he has natural curly hair like his father, though his curls are a little more difficult to comb and manage than his father, something that he doesn’t like about himself

-Has freckles! But always wears makeup to cover them as according to Dale’s research are ’less desirable’ and would statistically do better with them covered up

-Also has heterochromia, one blue and one green eye, but always wears either a blue or green contacts to hide his ‘flaw’, again being told to do so by his father

- Though he is always required to wear a branded white hoodie, Dale actually lets him wear whatever shirt he wants underneath, just with the promise Dev never takes his sweater off in public. Dev usually wears all sorts of geeky and nerdy shirts, mostly love meridian and Crimson Chin related stuff, it's the closes thing he’s allowed to wear ‘freely’ without requiring his father’s approval. Again this ‘freedom’ is kinda pointless since he still has to wear the hoodie, but he still appreciates it.   

-As you can see in the photo above I showed what he looks typically on the left, and on the right is basically what Dev would dress like if he had no rules or restrictions.

Personality: 

It's basically exactly the same as in the show, I really like Dev both in a story sense and a comedic sense so nothing to really change. The only slight difference is that Dev in this version clearly gets a crush on Hazel in this version. I think the show is ‘hinting’ of them possibly being a couple later on, but in my version I wanted to make it a little more clear that he has a subconscious crush on her. Basically think Anya and Damion from Spy x Family if you want a good example. He likes her, but being a 10 year old boy with severe daddy issues has no idea how to handle this and ends up being kinda mean to his regret. 

Other fun facts:

-I won’t get into it now, but his relationship with his father is a bit different, as I have a unique take on Dale and who he is as a person. I’ll probably draw him next but for now just know Dale isn’t an evil heartless father and there’s more to him than it seems, and thus the relationship between Dale and Dev is a little more complex.

-And yes though it isn’t important yet, he does end up getting Cosmo and Wanda as his fairy godparents instead of Hazel as the AU would suggest.

- In this version Peri is also not a big fan of Dev. As he obviously doesn’t like how he’s mean to her at first, but as they become friends and Peri soon realizes that Dev has a crush on Hazel this leaves Peri horrified at the thought. And of course being a proper big brother is completely against and despises the idea of Dev and Hazel ever ending up together. He’s not too over the top about his dislike, but definitely would be sitting in to conor with his arms crossed, while trying to subtly tell Hazel she could do soooooooo much better than him.   

I hope you guys like this, I'm personally really happy with how this design turned out, especially his 'real Dev' design on the right. But I would love to hear your guys thoughts and opinions about my designs. Do you like them, hate them? Feel free to tell me below.

Also tomorrow I'll post a version of this photo with a transparent BG and maybe upclose shots of the design as well, just so you can see the design easier without the BG

Previous - Next

[everlasting-rainfall]

-Most Terrifying Yandere in One Piece-

Okay so I just had a thought of who the most terrifying Yandere in One Piece would be as yes, Luffy is someone who would probably rip the entire world apart just to get his hands on you but it ain’t him in my personal opinion

Sanji would crack the skull of any man who tried to speak to you and Zoro is so intimidating that no one would probably even dare try to speak to you

Boa would trap you with her without you even knowing that you’re trapped and if you ever do then you won’t be able to do anything about it, Robin knows exactly how to hurt you and exactly what to say in order to keep you from leaving her side

Akainu could have an “Only Alive” bounty placed on your head if you ever managed to escape him, Garp would chase you to the ends of the earth until he had you again

Kaido would keep you locked up in Onigashima in a place where only he would only be able to access you to ensure that he’s the only one that can see you, Big Mom would have you dragged off to Tottoland by her many sons and daughters in order to attend your wedding with her

But I gotta say that I don’t think any of them would be the most terrifying Yandere in One Piece and keep in mind that this is just personal opinion… But you know who would be?

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Kidnapping, No Hope, Total Island Destruction, Uncomfortable Situations, Attempted Murder, Starvation, Imprisonment, Mind Break

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA AND MOST RECENT EPISODES OF ONE PIECE-!

!-BEWARE SPOILERS-!

That would be this fucker right here in my personal opinion�� Imu…

Why? Well I’d like you to think about this as Imu is someone that little to no one knows exists and no one even knows what Imu even looks like to begin with so let’s say that somehow you did manage to escape Imu’s grasp

You can’t tell anyone who had you… No one would know who you’re talking about and now that person you just told? They’re going to face an imminent death…

We all saw what happened on Lulusia too, all that just to kill Sabo who saw Imu if I’m right. An entire country wiped from history so if you told that person about Imu then you just potentially wiped that island out…

Granted Imu might leave you unharmed like they won’t kill you but there’s a good chance that when you’re brought back to them, it will be with your ability to walk or even stand removed so now you’re stuck with this person… Assuming Imu is a person, that is…

Plus I don’t think that Imu would even reveal their appearance to you for a good long while so imagine sitting down for a meal with this person covered head to toe in black, they stare at you with these unblinking red eyes anytime that you make a sound

If there was any way to lose your appetite, it would probably be from the sheer uncomfortable feelings brought on by Imu’s staring… I don’t think that they would even speak to you for a while after being captured so you’re just living with someone whose dead silent and won’t stop staring at you…

Also that brings up the case of imagine catching the attention of Imu like maybe you were one of the few people unlucky enough to be able to approach Imu but how much more terrifying would it be if you were just some civilian?

Who knows how they found out about you but once they decide that they want you, you’re being seemingly arrested out of the blue like you’ve done the worst crime imaginable if you aren’t just straight up kidnapped

Then you’re brought before this person who you’re absolutely terrified of and have absolutely no clue what they want from you only to be left alone with them because this is home now

Fucking horrifying if you ask me…

You can’t even hope at killing Imu either as even if they have no fighting skills, you’d probably have to get insanely lucky in trying to kill them like I’m talking winning the lottery eight times in a row on the same day then seeing like a quadruple rainbow on your way home only to find that every problem with your home miraculously fixed itself kind of lucky…

So let’s say that you did achieve that kind of luck and managed to sneak up and seemingly kill Imu in order to hopefully return to your life before all of this occurred, it seems like you might be home free and escape is so close within your grasp…

But let’s not forget about something…

And knowing that the Gorosei’s devil fruit forms can regenerate from seemingly just about anything, I’d assume that Imu can do it as well so they’re pissed that you tried to kill them after how kindly that they’ve treated you

So as you’re running, you’ll likely look back and see whatever this is chasing after you until it grabs you in a grip that feels like it’s trying to crush you as they drag you back where you belong

If you make Imu mad then they likely aren’t going to treat you with kindness like I can honestly see them depriving you of food and locking you up until you’ve learnt your lesson, Imu wouldn’t kill you and wouldn’t allow anyone to lay a finger on you to harm you

But by the end, you’ll be wishing that you were dead and no matter how much you might scream that you’ve learnt your lesson… Imu will leave you there until they know that you have only coming to you to give you just enough food and water to where you’ll survive…

Once Imu is sure that you’ve learnt your lesson and will never try anything like that again, that is when you’ll finally be freed from your prison and actually start to be treated with gentleness and kindness as well

Imu might even test how your time locked up affected as you as they’ll caress you and if you lean into it then they’ll kiss you… And if you return it? That’s probably the first time that you’ll hear their voice speaking the word “Good”

They’ll be gentle with you as they wash your body and take care of you until you’re all better but don’t think for a second that Imu won’t shove you back into your prison if it’s needed…

Now this isn’t to say that any other One Piece character isn’t absolutely terrifying as everyone is absolutely horrifying like hell… Luffy is absolutely horrifying because of Gear 5…

This is just my personal opinion on who I think is the scariest… And it’s Imu without a doubt for me…

[sweetestgirlintown111]

Henry Winter x reader

Chapter ii

A month from the first stroll I took to class the leaves now settled on the ground, me settled into my room, enough candles to last me the course of three college degrees, wool blankets and sweaters made by my grandma, my books nestled snug on the shelf. In the passing month i had managed to become incredibly close to Francis going shopping together sharing multiple dinners and an exhausting all nighter in the library. Generally having a good relationship with everyone in the class, well everyone except for Henry who wouldn't miss an opportunity to jump down my throat or fire questions at me in hopes of making me embarrass myself which so far hasn't happened, but in honesty, it did make me prepare better for classes because one thing I won't be doing is granting him the satisfaction of getting to me, and even when he did -which was quite often- he never knew of it, always making sure to match his coldness and ignore most of his snide remarks, playing the temperance card.

I walk to the lyceum almost automatically having made the walk about a dozen times before. I get to the office and everyone is already there, “late”, julian remarks although his face is plastered with a smile, i give him one in return and go sit between Richard and Francis, the lesson goes smoothly I don't engage in the talking which doesn't give henry a chance to make off handed comments.

“Should we invite Richard?” I look back at him half expecting Francis to say no but to my surprise, he agrees “I think it's a great idea plus we can make him decide what to cook”, we approach Richard as he's standing by the foot of the stairs looking uncertain “hey, Francis and I were going to have dinner together tonight and we would like for you to join us if you're free of course” he looked surprised that we even thought of him, he had the tendency to avoid all eyes almost ghost like “uhm yeah sure I don't have anything either way” “great! I'll be cooking so what do you think I should make?” Going back and forth we finally decided on lasagna, but while we were talking about it we gained the attention of Bunny who couldn't get the concept that he wasn't invited or that it wasn't an open invitation, so of course he went to Henry and the twins and told them all about the ‘dinner party’ Francis was hosting.

I, Francis, and Richard went to the store to get what we needed for cooking, went back home, and started dinner, richard sits the table while I prepare the lasagna and Francis is chopping vegetables for a salad. Bunny, Henry, and the twins arrive just as I'm putting the dish into the oven, Camilla holding a bottle of white wine. I greet her with a hug walking with her towards the table, she hands the bottle to Richard who pours everyone a glass of wine, Charles and Bunny seemingly continuing a debate they started on the way here something about golf Henry listening to their stupid arguments amused. I stare at him a moment too long, the blue of his eyes and jet black hair, his eyebrow raised his head tilted to the side, he might be a jerk and I might hate him but he's so painfully beautiful, and staring at him from across the table there's no denying that maybe had he been less mean I would've enjoyed his presence. I'm taken out of my trance as the timer on the oven rings loudly, I get up and serve (😜) everyone a slice before sitting down my own plate, after a few bites bunny points his finger at me mid chew “Did you cook this?” “I did, is it good?” My question addressed to all of them, they hum in agreement, Richard nods “It tastes amazing thank you” I smile at him, “Where'd you learn to cook like this?” Shockingly Henry is the one asking, i look at him skeptical expecting him to follow up with an insult of some sort, “My grandma, she taught me when I used to visit her during the summer” “hm well it's nice, thank you” I was completely taken aback by his niceness, I give him a nod and purse my lips into a thin line.

Hours later the dishes were piled in the sink, us thrown around the living room, the room stuffy with cigarette smoke, all of us half drunk, the room silent. Richard on one end of the couch, my legs in his lap and my head in Francis’s smoking what must've been my hundredth cigarette of the day humming the tune of California dreaming, Charles and Camilla have left, something about Charles feeling sick, Bunny went to meet Marion. It was just us and Henry on the seat across from us, smoking and nursing a glass of scotch. It was well past midnight, I was drunk, sleepy and I needed to get to my room. Lazily i drop my feet to the ground and sit up my head spinning from the sudden movement, i lean into Francis giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I'm taking a taxi” “you can stay the night if you want” i shake my head and stand up, stumbling again from the sudden movement and the alcohol running in my system “i need to shower, I feel disgusting” “but it's so late” “don't worry francie ill just call a cab” i go put on my coat by the door and as im ringing the car company, henry creeps up behind me “come I'll drive you I'm leaving anyway” “ thanks but no” “c’mon i insist” “but it's out of your way” “it doesn't matter” he opens the door for me to get out i hisetate for a second before walking out, too out of it to argue with him now and more comfortable with him driving me rather than a random taxi at this time of night, i walk down the stairs slow trying not to trip but ultimately failing my feet stumbling over and i lean back but henry catches me from behind, because of course he did, he leads me to the car his hand spread at the small of my back, my body growing warm despite the freezing weather outside. In the car I turn on the radio in an attempt to not fall asleep i sing along to whatever comes on it, the drive isn't long Henry stays quiet only looking at me through the mirror clearly amused by my drunken state. After about three and a half songs we get to campus he stops the car in front of my building, he turns looking at me, the moonlight highlighting his features. Fuck he's gorgeous “Thank you again for the food, it was really good” “Thank you for the ride” “Anytime” I get out of the car, I turn to look at him, but he's already looking at me, and again I'm warm all over despite the weather.

I lay in bed, but his touch still burns my skin as I drift off into dreams.

[moonlight-tmd]

Idea! I think I remember seeing somewhere on your blog that Shockwave was a civilian frame amongst the many Warframes on the Decepticon side. Going off of that-and probably going to be angry as heck-but now I can't help but think in your "Con's are good" au, that Shockwave was originally one of the few good Senators who did their best to prevent the worst of the anti-warframe acts from going through. When his support for the Deceptions was found out, he was tortured, empuertad without trial and on false allegations, and left for dead before he was found and rescued.

I mention this because I feel a major turning point for the earthbound Autobot team would be for them to uncover this information. This could also serve as a catalyst for them losing trust in the council entirely. What do you think?

Yeah that does sound like something Shockwave might have experienced in this...

Originally I didn't have much info on his backstory but with your input- yeah I can see him being in the council before everything happened.

He was one of the lower position ones but still had much input on how things turn out. When he first heard of the propaganda and plans to eliminate warframes he tried his best to discreetly change the enforcement of that. Even risking stealing and changing the orders. That unfortunately didn't last long as he was caught with the act and upon discovering the reason, the council automaticaly aligned him with Decepticons and send him off to be empurated and locked away. The council couldn't risk having their reputation dirty so they covered it up with him being assasinated.

While in prison, he took his time to re-evaluate his decisions and goals; he didn't regret one bit of his actions, he only wanted the best for the citizen. He spend years reflecting and making plans for no apparent reason- he never thought he could get out of the prison he himself helped build for most dangerous criminals,.. that he now was a resident of himself.

But fate had it that a Decepticon ship attacked the prison in attempt to get their comrades out. He found himself running with the criminals and by all luck managed to catch a ride. Universe had gived him another chance and he wasn't about to waste it.

He changed his name to Shockwave and managed to consult with Megatron himself about his fate and possible aid in return for support from Decepticons. And thus he began helping them overthrow the council.

He was scared of initiating the plans he offered, but it was the only way- he was gonna climb the ranks under a disguise and be their infiltration. His odd frame type granted him the ability to alter his appearance but with empurata helm it was almost impossible to make it pass... Fortunately for them all there was one femme who specialized in self-taught medicine and frame alterations. Blackarachnia made it so his helm could shift along with his frame and therefore made his alter persona, Longarm.

During infiltration of boot camp, Shockwave met a young minibot- foolish and swayed by the tales of the amazingness of Elite Guard. Shockwave felt bad that such a passionate and high-spirited mech would only be disappointed once he learned the truth. Shockwave was surprisingly young for a senator back in the day, so he understood the excitement Bee had- maybe that's why he became friends with him. When Wasp became to be apparent issue for Bumblebee and the officers weren't doing anything despite several notices, Shockwave decided that enough was enough- he was well aware of the rumors of a spy around the camp. He learned from his mistakes and was far more careful about his actions but still it somehow got out. He used the rumors and crafted a well-suited evidence for Wasp to step right in. It worked and Bee was safe, although this satisfaction didn't last long for he was kicked out for some stupid thing few months later.

Now for some events that I don't know how to put in line of time;

When Shockwave learned about Wasp trying to get revenge on Bee he felt guilty- he should've known that putting Wasp in jail wasn't gonna be a permanent solution but he also hoped that he would be stuck there for longer. He didn't like that Bee had to carry the consequences of his lies which is why whnn he revealed that it was him that put Wasp in jail he tried his best to explain his reasoning. He was lucky that Bee understood where he was coming from and forgave him.

When Shockwave learned that the same minibot he was friends with in boot camp had a relationship with Blitwing he was.. shocked to say the least. For someone who believed in the council's fake good so much it was quite controversial. In the end he was happy that Bee was happy, more so when he acknowledged that Bee was not as foolish as he thought and actually looked into the true side of the council.

When the earth rebellion was forming, it was difficult to get Team Prime to trust Decepticons- Shockwave has decided that if they were gonna help them they need to know what the council was capable of and shared his story. He watched their expressions shift to shock and disgust as he described the punishment for simply not wanting a war. The sad part about it is that Optimus actually met Shockwave before all this... As brief as it was, Op saw the mech Shockwave used to be and it pained him to see the same happy mech turned into a bittersweer avenger of the council's victims. It was what pulled the final straw and caused the rebellion to solidify.

That's all for now, thank you for the ask and sorry for the long wait!

[typicalopposite]

Ughhhhh! Today was… draining 😭 I haven’t had the chance to write much… but the last time I checked the chapter was basically at 10k 🫣 and still going… soooooo here’s another little snippet from chapter 6 of my Tommy Mpreg 🫶

The weather is nice.  Nice enough to sit out on the porch swing and get lost in your thoughts… get depressed from your thoughts… a tear slides down Tommy’s cheek just as a familiar red SUV passes by and turns into the driveway; Athena and Karen get out, smiling and waving.  “Hen said we might find you moping around at home,” Athena says, offering a warm smile.  Tommy stares at them, and sighs. “She seriously told you?”  “Well… she told Bobby,” Karen says. “Then they talked about it for a little while,” Athena adds. “Then they told us, and suggested maybe we come talk to you.”  Karen grabs one of the rocking chairs and sits down, smirking. “Since we have some good experience with disapproving in-laws.” Tommy stares at the women, confused. “But Bobby’s parents aren’t alive and— and Karen, Toni loves you!?” “She didn’t always,” Karen corrects. “She has come… a long way.” “And my mother…” Athena chimes in. “Well let’s just say Bobby still consistently has to jump through hoops to stay in her good graces.” “Yeah, well… at least he managed to get in them at all…” Tommy mumbles. Athena sits down on the swing beside him and lays her hand on his. “I wish I could tell you Buck's mother will come around… but that woman— mmph…” Athena makes a face, and Tommy laughs. He fully gets it, and agrees, just by that noise alone.  “She’s definitely a character,” Karen sighs. “But I’ll tell you one thing. You, and these two…” Athena pokes at Tommy’s stomach, before laying her hand against it as the babies start to kick. “—mean more to Buck than she ever has… and ever will. I know you’re trying to keep the peace by keeping quiet. But I’m telling you, it’s not worth it to lose your peace in the process.” He knows she’s right… and Hen’s right… and Eddie’s right… and his mom’s right. He sighs, nodding. “And, just to put it out there,” Athena continues, getting that classic no nonsense Sergeant Grant look in her eye. “If she bothers you any while she’s here, just come to me. I don’t mind showing her how to back to her own lane.”  Karen laughs and reaches out to grab Tommy’s other hand. “Yeah, we’ve got your back.”  And they did. 

We love a good support system, yeah? 🫶

I know it’s late but tagging: @30somethingautisticteacher @onthewaytosomewhere @judymarch15 @sunnywithachanceofbi @nine-one-wanton @bucksxkinard @bidisasterevankinard @kinardsevan and anyone else who wants to share 🫶🫶

[imtrashraccoon]

Funny enough we had mac and cheese for dinner the day I wrote this. No, it wasn't my idea and it was the boxed kind. Homemade is so good though...

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Killer - Heavy

Word Count: 1,860

You were attempting to get some lunch made when Killer showed up again. Moving around on crutches was still rather difficult but you were craving something cheesy. So you were trying your best to balance on your crutches and still do meal prep.

"hey..." he muttered in a low voice as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Hey yourself," you responded and continued what you were doing, barely sparing him a glance.

It wasn't a very nice way to greet a guest but you didn't like how he tended to just teleport into your home without notice. No, you weren't being hypocritical just because you were okay with Dust doing the same thing. At least he hadn't played a stupid prank that had resulted in a hospital visit!

Weirdly, Killer didn't make any effort to retort and when the silence grew too uncomfortable, you turned to properly look at him.

He seemed...fidgety and yet, kind of lethargic. The black ooze that seemed to perpetually drip down his cheekbones from his eye sockets seemed to have increased too. He also seemed to have slight dark circles underneath his eye sockets for once and the glowing red target that floated above his sternum seemed almost distorted and fuzzy.

Apparently, even Killer had bad days it seemed. You couldn't be sure if he tended to act detached like Dust or more reactive like Axe though. Hopefully, he was the quiet type, but you didn't like the chances of that being the case, considering how volatile he was normally.

So, you chose to ignore him, at least for the time being anyways. You really didn't need to know what was bothering him today as it couldn't be good if it affected him this much. Instead, you decided to make homemade mac and cheese to satisfy your cravings. It took a bit more work than the boxed stuff, but you could add as much cheese as you wanted to this way.

You had just started grating the cheese when something tiny bit the back of your head. Looking down at the floor, you spotted a stray toothpick and when you bent down to pick it up, another one hit your back.

Casting a stern look at Killer, you discovered that he had somehow gotten ahold of the container of toothpicks that you normally kept by the stove, despite seemingly not getting up. He stared passively back before sliding another one out of the container and flicking it, with surprising accuracy, so that it hit your chest this time.

You gave him a patient smile. "Can you...not do that? It's annoying and I'm going to eventually step on one, which might hurt."

He said nothing and just stared at you. Then, he went back to flicking toothpicks at you as if you hadn't said anything at all. Almost like a toddler testing what the limits of your patience were.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the counter. He was apparently in a bratty mood and so you were determined to ignore his antics. He would get bored eventually and stop once you didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Once the cheese was granted, you got the milk out of the fridge and went to get a few spices, like salt and pepper, out of the cupboard. You'd just managed to reach one of them when it slid out of your grasp. Maybe you'd grabbed it wrong?

You tried again and got the pepper container this time. However, when you went to grab the salt container, the same thing happened. It was now somehow even further back in your cupboard than you could properly reach.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh and counting to ten, you did your best not to get mad. It would only give him what he wanted after all if you did.

You could do this.

Leaning your crutches against the counter, you balanced on your left foot for a second before jumping up. Your fingers closed around the salt and you grinned in satisfaction.

Unfortunately, you lost your balance when you landed and tried to grab onto the counter to catch yourself.

Strong but boney hands suddenly wrapped around your back, stopping your fall.

Killer's face was then the only thing in your field of vision and your face grew hot as you realized how close he was.

Your tongue felt heavy and your body was paralyzed. You couldn't move no matter how much you wanted to and even if you could, you likely wouldn't be able to stand up without stepping on your bad ankle.

He held you for a few moments before helping you regain your balance again. Once you'd grabbed your crutches and weren't in danger of falling over, he returned to his spot at the table.

He hadn't said a word the entire time. How unlike him...

You took a steadying breath and ran a hand down your face. That had been really embarrassing. If he hadn't acted so quickly, you would've had a nasty fall and possibly injured yourself worse.

You glanced up and instantly made eye contact with him. He seemed to have gone back to staring at you, which was just peachy. What was it with skeletons and staring anyways?

"What's got you in such a funk today, Killer?" you finally asked.

His permanent smile was already tight but the corners pulled up more at your question. "you know, you just reminded me of this weirdo that i know. he's a walking neon sign and stupidly tall... now that's funky!" His tone of voice sounded happy but you could tell he was forcing it.

You frowned that he'd completely ignored your question and hobbled over to the table. Sitting down across from him, you leaned your crutches up against the wooden surface before steepling your hands on the table.

"Killer...are you okay?" you tried again.

He waved you off. "it's fine cute-cake... get it? cause you're really cute and it's a piece of cake to make you mad?"

"Ugh..." You hated that your heart did a little flip at the stupid pun disguised as yet another flirtatious comment. "Come on! Killer, stop deflecting and tell me what's going on," you grumbled.

He opened his mouth to say something else but you reached across the table and pointed a finger in his face. "No. You've been pestering me to pay attention to you, so now I am. What are you dying to tell me?"

"guess you got me...dead to rights..." he muttered.

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. "Ha. I'd give you more than a pity laugh but I'm serious here." When he smiled slightly more, you quickly added, "No, don't say that actually I'm cute or an angel. I'm not joking..."

He sighed and hung his skull in defeat. "you're no fun, angel face..." he muttered. He drummed his phalanges on the table for a moment before clenching his fists. "i'm just having a bad day... kind of itching to get some exp too..."

"Ah. I wondered if that could be the case." You pursed your lips thoughtfully and added, "Dust acted similarly when he was having a rough day, you know?"

Killer gave you a curious look and tilted his skull. "i don't get it..." he muttered. "i don't like any humans, you know?"

Rather than give you time to answer, he kept muttering. "...i once met a human who manipulated me and eventually forced me to kill everyone i ever knew...over, and over, and over again... it got to the point where i acted on my own without any prodding...and it happened over and over... until they got bored and left... they abandoned me after everything i did..."

The longer he talked, the more unnerving he became. You were familiar with info dumping death spirals by now, but it still sent shivers down your spine at how hollow his voice sounded compared to how he normally acted. You didn't like Fake-happy Killer but you especially didn't like Deathly-serious Killer either.

Without really thinking, you reached across the table again and this time, you placed your right hand on his left. You didn't say anything yet and just sat there listening to him.

The gesture seemed to shock him out of his ramblings and he looked down at your joined hands. When you didn't pull away, he caught your gaze again and studied you intently.

"why aren't you...upset...? i just told you why i'm this messed up..." His face hardened and he abruptly stood up, pulling his hand away roughly. "don't just look at me like that! get mad! call me a freak! say something! anything..."

He collapsed back into the chair, that had somehow not fallen over, and clutched his skull in despair. Then, in a small voice, he muttered, "forget it. i don't need your pity..."

"Hey."

You waited until he shifted and looked up at you before speaking again. "This explains why you act similarly to Axe and Dust..." you commented with a wry smile.

He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and shock. He looked down at his hands and then back up to you. "what's that supposed to mean...?"

You took one of his hands in your own and gave it a small squeeze. "I shouldn't compare you to them I guess. You're similar in that you've been through awful circumstances and managed to come out the other side alive, but in doing so, you had to change. Maybe you think it was for the worse but I'm not focusing on that part right now. There's plenty different about you compared to the others, but it doesn't change the fact that you're still hurting and I can't stand seeing you like that."

You turned his hand over and examined it, although you couldn't really see his palm because of his fingerless gloves. Running the fingers of your other hand over his own, you hummed softly.

"I can't condone what you do for work but I can see you aren't completely irredeemable. You've been awful to me and yet you also tried to fix things when you went too far. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you haven't actively threatened to harm me since we first met either."

Killer was silent for a little while and he seemed to be pondering what you'd said.

You sighed and looked away from him. "Look, I still don't really like you... But, despite everything, I can't bring myself to hate you, especially after what you just told me..."

He made a quiet clicking sound with his non-existent tongue. "interesting..." he muttered. He ran a thumb over your fingers in a thoughtful way.

"no wonder they both like you..." He curled his phalanges around your hand and brought it up to his teeth.

From the smirk on his face, you just knew he was being flirtatious. This was confirmed when he pressed a slow skeleton kiss against your knuckles.

"you're even cuter when you're red in the face like that, angel~"

Scratch that, you hated him all over again!

[sxcret-garden]

Theo ღ Be Mine [M]

ღ P1Harmony Theo x fem!reader ღ feat.: Keeho ღ words: ~5.8k ღ genre: smut (dom!Theo, some nipple play, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, jealous Theo is a little possessive), college AU, enemies to lovers vibes ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, (reader is smaller than him)

Desc.: You’ve had secret feelings for Choi Taeyang for a while now, and you’re anything but happy about them. So now that your childhood friend Keeho has invited the both of you to his party, you’re forced to decide if you want to keep avoiding him, or if you want to finally take your chance and make him yours. 

It was the exact moment that your eyes met his the second you entered through the door of your friend Keeho’s house, that you decided to get absolutely shitfaced tonight - with he not referring to the guy you’ve known since childhood, but one of his friends whose personality you just can’t put your finger on. All you know is he makes you nervous, but not in the bad way. More in a way where your heart starts beating harder and you feel your temperature rising if you stand too close to him. You very much have a horrible crush on this guy, but instead of conveying that to him, you shoot him a glare and then walk the other way. 

“What’s with the mood?” Keeho immediately catches up to you and starts up a conversation. “I thought we’re here to celebrate today?”

“Just give me alcohol,” you huff, and you two approach something like an improvised bar set up in the living room of his house. His family is gone for the weekend, so that’s why he decided he needed to use the opportunity to throw a big party to celebrate. What you’re celebrating? Nobody really knows, but there’s alcohol and that’s reason enough for the average college student to show up. Thus, his house is already pretty crowded - another thing you’re not a big fan of. However, with some liquor in your system you should be fine, and then, if you manage to avoid him, you might even be able to have some fun tonight.

Keeho pours you a cup of the fruit punch that he got who knows where. Maybe he even made it himself, in which case you probably shouldn’t even consider drinking it with the way he almost gave you alcohol poisoning with another experimental drink of his a while back. 

“Turn that frown upside down!” he tells you with a singsong tone in his voice as he hands you the red plastic cup, and you shoot him an angry glare.

“Shut up…” you bark back, but he doesn’t seem to take it personally. Instead he just grins at how you down the cup in one go, and without the need for words, he grants you a refill right away.

“Someone’s looking for a way to escape reality today, aren’t you?” he remarks. As you feel the mixture of sugar and alcohol entering your blood flow almost right away and making your body feel a little lighter, you finally relax a little.

“Did you have to invite him?” you answer with a question.

“Him?” Keeho questions, and in no time he seems to figure out who you’re talking about. “Oh, you mean Taeyang?” A disgruntled noise from your side tells him he’s right with his assumption. “He’s a good friend of mine. How could I not invite him?”

“I don’t like him?” Silence follows, and Keeho raises his eyebrows as he gives you a judging look.

“You do though…?” he eventually answers. “I think you just don’t like the fact that you like him.” You feel yourself agreeing with him, and before that feeling can turn into coherent thoughts, you say,

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Let’s go do something fun.”

“I can introdu-”

“No need.” You cut him off sharply, then you start walking towards the garden. Keeho follows suit, and he puts his arm loosely around your shoulders.

“What if I tell you he’s taken an interest in you too?” he suddenly says just when you’ve reached the door leading from the living room to the veranda. You feel your heart stop for a second upon hearing those words, but you do your best not to let your friend notice.

“You sure I shouldn’t bring him to say hi to you?” Keeho follows up with a question and you spin on your heels to face him, your dress fluttering in the warm summer air. You’re usually not the type to wear dresses unless it’s for a formal occasion, but somehow Keeho kept insisting on how good you would look in this one and how much he’d love to see you wear a dress casually just once, so eventually you gave in. Not because he convinced you 100%, it’s mostly because he wouldn’t stop bugging you about it and you really needed him to shut up for once. 

“Very sure,” you retort. “Now, I’m getting tipsy so that means I’m in the mood to dance.” You hold your hand out to him, waiting for him to take it.

“There isn’t even proper music playing,” he argues.

“Well, you’re the host, so do something about it!” 

“Alright. I’ll be right back,” Keeho says, and with a grin and an excited spark in his eyes, he rushes back inside to turn on some proper music to party to, while you tend to the cup in your hand and empty this one in no time too. You won’t be able to keep holding it while you’re dancing anyway, so you might as well finish it and get a new one once you want another drink. Throwing it into the trash bin out in the garden that Keeho must’ve prepared beforehand, you hear a familiar tune resound from the speakers both inside the house and outside on the terrace. It’s a song you’ve liked ever since you first discovered it, and when you see your childhood friend coming out of the house and returning straight to you, you shoot him a proud look.

“You know what I like,” you remark with a grin on your lips, to which he shoots you a similar expression as he takes you by the hands.

“I can’t have you being unhappy at my party,” he says, and you appreciate the thought. Then you start dancing, along with some other people around you. For a while neither of you says anything, and you just enjoy the way the music, the alcohol, and your and Keeho’s synchronized movements are gradually making you feel more at peace with the situation you’re in. However, at some point any kind of happiness needs to end, and so does this one when your beloved but sometimes slightly annoying childhood friend opens his mouth.

“So… what is it about Taeyang that you like so much?”

“Ugh…” you reply with a groan and avoid eye contact with your friend.

“Or… maybe it’s easier if I ask what you dislike so much about this?” Keeho keeps going ruthlessly. “I mean, he might seem like an angry kitten at first, but really he’s a nice and reliable guy once you’ve gotten to know him a little.” Something about the way he worded that first part bothers you, but you decide not to give it too much thought.

“Can we just not talk about him?” you retort instead, and though you notice the way Keeho sighs at you, you don’t react to it. There is one thing that Keeho doesn’t know. There is no need for him to introduce you two, because technically you already know each other - if having one conversation can be called knowing someone, but you suppose Taeyang at least became an acquaintance through that. The topic you talked about was something mundane, you remember it was after one of your shared lectures, but you don’t remember any details of what was said. Details that you do remember however were the way he swiped his hair back mid sentence, the way the look in his eyes was so intense that it made you feel the urge to start a staring battle with him right on the spot simply because you wanted to prove to yourself that you could withstand it, or the feeling you were left with once he walked out of the lecture hall. You’d never felt yourself this attracted to a stranger - or anyone for that matter - and still you can’t even grasp the full reason why. Sure, he isn’t ugly, and he’s on the tall side too, but that applies to many guys. There must be something else that keeps drawing your full attention to him like a spell put on you whenever you happen to spot him somewhere at uni or your paths cross out in the hallways on the way from one class to the other. And the way you just can’t figure out what that something is makes you hate these feelings that you have for him and that only seem to be growing stronger with each passing day - or maybe it’s the fact that you have no idea how to approach him and make him yours. But you would never admit any of that out loud.

“Oh, you know what?” Keeho’s exclaim tears you out of your thoughts and brings you back to reality. “We should get some games from the basement for later. Drunk Twister sounds like a good idea.”

“It sounds like a horrible idea to me so I won’t take part, but I can help you carry some games upstairs?” you suggest, and Keeho nods. You’re a little sad when you let yourselves fall out of the rhythm to walk back inside, where you check your surroundings first of all. Taeyang seems nowhere in sight, so you relax a little and you let out a small sigh. You follow Keeho across the house and to the basement, when suddenly, halfway down the stairs, he abruptly comes to a halt right in front of you so you almost crash face first into his back.

“Oh, I forgot something,” he shouts, and then turns around one step below you. “I was gonna bring something with me to the basement, mind if I go get it real quick?” You step aside as if to signal him that it’s alright with you, and he hurries back up the stairs past you. You sigh as you watch him disappear into the hallway, and somehow you must realize you’re not as annoyed with him as you usually are when he pulls things like this. 

“Is it the alcohol?” you question. “I should drink more often in that case.” You let out a dry laugh and lean against the cool wall of the staircase, directing your gaze at your shoes while you wait. You picked out sneakers to go with the dress, because if you’re already forced to wear something you’re not used to wearing normally, you at least want your feet to be comfortable. Plus, these simple black and white chucks suit any kind of clothing - or at least that’s what you think. A smile crosses your lips - whether it’s because you’re suddenly proud that you didn’t let your best friend annoy you into wearing 100% what he wants, or if it’s just the bliss of being slightly drunk so you don’t care. And then you notice someone approaching the stairs in the corner of your eye, and when you raise your chin to yell at Keeho for taking so long, the words suddenly get stuck in your throat.

“Oh.” That is all he says upon recognizing you. And recognize you he did within a second, you’re sure of that from the way his expression quickly changes from surprise to something like a closed door, as if he had something to hide. Choi Taeyang… his name pops up in your mind, but that’s about the only thought your brain can produce at that moment. His gaze drops from your face to the stairs as he starts to descend them, and when he’s about two steps away from you, he raises the plastic box in his hand. You notice it contains several other smaller boxes on closer look and you wonder just why it was so important for Keeho to bring them to the basement today and not any other time. 

“Keeho asked me to take these with me and to help you carry some games to the living room,” Taeyang explains, mostly looking at the ground in front of him. However, when your gazes meet for a second, you can feel goose bumps forming on your arms and legs, and at the same time that familiar heat arises in your stomach again. You curse Keeho in your mind as it dawns on you that he most likely sent Taeyang here to set you two up, then you turn your back to the guy next to you and you walk all the way downstairs, closely followed by him.

“Give me those,” you say, gesturing to the boxes usually used to store leftovers, and when Taeyang hands them to you, your fingers touch for a split second. You try to ignore the electric spark this causes you to feel just where your skin came in contact with his, and instead you put the boxes to their rightful place. Then you immediately move on to the next shelf to look for some fun games - you have no time to lose if you want to get out of here as fast as possible.

“You sure know this place well,” Taeyang remarks. “Do you come around here often?”

“Well, me and Keeho have known each other for an eternity so… pretty much,” you answer.

“Oh, so you are the childhood friend he keeps talking about!” the guy next to you exclaims. 

“Yeah,” you respond while taking a few games out of the shelf and quickly handing them to Taeyang. You must admit you appreciate the small talk, especially while having a perfectly valid excuse to avoid having to make eye contact with Taeyang. Still, you’re starting to curse Keeho even more upon learning that he seems to have already told Taeyang quite a lot about you. 

“Isn’t this enough?” he questions as you turn back to the shelf and search all the various boxes with your eyes. 

“He said to bring Twister too,” you explain, just before the colorful box comes into sight. “Found it!”

“Twister?” Taeyang repeats. “Not a fan of it.”

“Me neither,” you agree, and then you get on tiptoes, trying to reach the box on the top shelf, but failing horribly. Next to you, you can hear Taeyang chuckling softly at the sight, and when you’re about to yell at him for it, he puts the games you already handed him aside and approaches you. Trapping you between the shelf and his body, he reaches the box with ease and recovers it for you.

“There you go,” he says while handing it to you, and you’re not sure if he’s making fun of your height or if he’s being sincere, but from the way a somewhat shy smile has formed on his lips you guess it’s probably the latter. And it makes your heart flutter in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice monotonous, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the shoulder for not giving away your current inner turmoil of emotions. 

“Your dress…” Taeyang starts speaking again, without taking his eyes off you. “I think it looks good on you.”

“O-oh… thank you,” you answer, this time without being able to avoid stumbling over your words. “Keeho helped me pick it out.”

“I see…” You’re not sure if your eyes are tricking you when you see his pupils growing darker by one shade before he turns away, and it’s not like you have any way of confirming it. So you try to push that hunch away, but with how you find yourself trembling ever so slightly, there is no way you can deny the overload of feelings he sparks within you.

“Let’s go back up,” he says, and you’re thankful for your release from this prison of a situation finally coming into sight.

“Yeah,” you answer. Without exchanging another word, you both return to the first floor, and you put the boxes into the living room, just like Keeho asked. Speaking of him, you leave Taeyang within a second to go look for your friend, and you eventually find him outside, chatting with some guys you’ve never really talked to. Still, you approach him, and once you wrap your hand around his arm with a strong grip, he winces in surprise and calls out your name.

“Whoa!” he exclaims as soon as he discovers your angry expression. “What did I do???”

“You know exactly what you did.”

“Ohhh… about Taeyang? Sorry, I got caught up here, so I asked him to help you instead, haha!” By the tone of his voice alone you can tell that was nothing but a white lie, but you can’t exactly scold him for trying to set you up in front of some people you don’t even know, so you just glare at him some more and then decide to leave for now.

“Hmpf…” You turn on your heels and walk right over to the bar. Even when Keeho tries to stop you by calling out to you, you don’t pay him another look.

You’re not sure how much time you spend by yourself just taste-testing yourself through all kinds of bottles you find in Keeho’s kitchen, you just know that once he calls everyone to gather in the living room for playing some games the sun has fully set and you are significantly more drunk than you were before. Still, you refuse to partake in any of the games and instead join the people who decided to just watch. Taeyang as well seems to have made that same decision, as you find him leaning against a wall across the room with a cup in his hand, sparing the people playing a look or two every once in a while. But mostly his eyes are glued to you, and at this point he too seems drunk enough not to make a secret out of how much he really likes the sight of you in that dress. You would’ve usually gotten uncomfortable if someone kept staring you down this obviously, but somehow in this one case you like the way he’s fallen for your looks. It makes you feel a little more powerful in your situation, and also like maybe you do have a chance with him after all. But again, this is nothing you would ever admit out loud. 

At some point he disappears behind the people standing next to him, heading off to god knows where. It is that moment in which your eyes lose sight of him, that you feel like something’s been torn away from you - something much more significant than just the sight of a handsome guy. Still, you shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of such emotions, and in your mind you can hear drunk you and sober you fighting over whether you should give in to your feelings or not. And then, without having reached a conclusion, you suddenly hear him calling out your name, his voice resounding close to your ear. You whirl around in surprise, and at the same time you can feel a tingly sensation rushing through your whole body. The way your name sounds spoken in his voice keeps ringing in your ears, while you try to talk to him like you would normally talk to your friends.

“You surprised me…”

“Sorry,” he grins at you. You find a playful spark in his eyes, as if he startled you on purpose, and when he lifts his right hand to show you the item he’s holding in it, you tear your gaze away from those dark brown pupils. 

“Alcohol?” you question once you realize he’s holding a fancy looking bottle.

“Sparkling wine or something… I found it in Keeho’s kitchen,” Taeyang explains and he shoots the host a look. “We’re allowed to take this, right?” You’re not sure if the answer to that is yes or no, but what you do know is that your childhood friend wouldn’t be mad if you were the one who took it. Considering if you should just take the blame in Taeyang’s stead, you respond,

“Sure…?”

“Let’s go upstairs with this, then,” Taeyang suggests. “I know something more fun to do than watching some drunk people play twister.” Assuming he wants to get even more drunk with you, you hesitate. The thought of just the two of you being in a room together alone makes you shiver - and not only in anticipation. However, while you’re still trying to figure out what to say to him, Taeyang already wraps his free hand around your wrist and pulls you along with him, out of the noisy living room. 

“It gives you a headache, doesn’t it?” he remarks as he’s leading you towards the staircase.

“Yeah, the noise is terrible,” you say. You can’t make out his expression after that, as he’s walking a bit in front of you, but with how he doesn’t respond anymore, you feel like maybe the noise was not what he meant.

“Here we are,” he says eventually, opening one of the doors on the second floor.

“That’s Keeho’s room,” you explain.

“So?” Taeyang answers. “What better place to enjoy a secret drink than the host’s room?” You can only let out a short laugh, before you follow him inside and you sit down at the foot of Keeho’s bed. The guy who dragged you here closes the door and then walks over to you, about to open the bottle in his hands.

“Wait - what if it overflows?” you warn him, and Taeyang stares at you for a long moment, probably considering the possible consequences of that. Then he returns his attention to the bottle, and opens it anyway. You’re about to scold him, but when the only thing coming out of it after removing the cap is some smoke, the tension leaves your body. You would’ve usually yelled at him for this anyway, but drunk you doesn’t see the point of wasting your energy on that when nothing bad happened in the end. 

“Oh, but… we forgot the cups,” Taeyang remarks, and you shrug before taking the bottle away from him.

“Whatever,” you mumble and you take a sip of the wine. It has a slightly sweet flavour, suiting your taste perfectly, and you enjoy the feeling of the fizzy liquid filling your mouth and the sparkles dancing on your tongue. “This is good,” you eventually say, giving the bottle a fond look before Taeyang takes it back. You’re about to complain when he brings the opening to his mouth, his lips touching the glass just where yours were mere moments ago, but your attention is drawn to his throat as he takes a sip and you can see his adam’s apple move as he swallows the alcoholic liquid. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” you question. 

“What do you mean, what am I doing? What does it look like I’m doing?” Taeyang answers and shoots you a questioning look.

“I mean-… both of us drinking from the same bottle?”

“Oh, you want the wine all to yourself?” he assumes and takes another sip of it. However, before you can deny his guess, he’s already lowering himself and you feel his lips being pressed against yours. He puts his hand behind your neck and as he parts your lips with his tongue, he tilts your head back a bit, so he can pass on the alcohol from his mouth to yours. You swallow it without thinking, and then you meet his tongue with yours, kissing him back while the aftertaste of the wine still lingers. Only when you part do you realize what just happened, and you turn away from him somewhat awkwardly. Taeyang doesn’t say anything. He merely straightens his back and then takes a few steps away from you, while drinking some more of the wine. Unsure how to react now, you merely bite your lower lip and let your gaze drop to the bedsheets underneath you. You remember once again how he called out your name, and mixed with the lingering feelings that the kiss left you with, it’s getting harder and harder for you to deny your attraction towards him.

“You know,” Taeyang eventually breaks the silence. “The way you’re always glued to Keeho… it pisses me off.”

“Huh?” you turn your head to find him still standing a few steps away from you, but the gaze he meets your eyes with makes your skin crawl. 

“That guy is all over you all the time, it’s like he’s not leaving anyone else any space to even talk to you,” he explains, but the question mark above your head just grows. 

“He’s a friend,” you argue. Taeyang comes closer to you, leaving the bottle on Keeho’s nightstand. 

“I know,” he says, frustration reflecting in his voice. “I still don’t like it.”

“Are you… jealous of him?” you dare to ask, and you almost regret it when Taeyang throws you a sharp look in response.

“What if I am? Would you not be jealous if I always had another girl around me at all times?” His question hits something inside of you, something you didn’t know existed - or maybe it’s something of which you denied that it existed. You stand up abruptly and you open your mouth to say something back, but instead, Taeyang is faster again. He lets his gaze wander your body and his eyes narrow as he takes in the red color of the dress you’re wearing.

“And the fact that he was the one who told you to wear this dress… makes me want to rip it off.” You think your ears are tricking you for a second, until he makes eye contact with you, and the expression on his face tells you that there’s no way you misheard him. 

“Th-this shit was expensive!” you yell at him, as if you had completely missed the point of his words. He steps closer to you, and he extends his hands slowly, until they’re resting on your shoulders, his fingers barely grazing your skin and the fabric of the dress. He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear.

“I’ll take it off carefully then…” he mutters barely audible, and you feel a shiver running down your spine. You’re unable to think of an answer to give him, so you decide to let your body do the talking, and when you lift your arms to rest your hands against his chest, you notice the exact moment he sucks in a deep breath and then holds it. You feel his gaze resting on you, and his eyes taking in the sight of you once more, before he lets one of his hands wander to your back in order to open the zip on your dress, all while never taking his gaze off of you. You know you’re in a position where he will notice every oh so tiny change of body language or expression from you - but for once, you’re more than okay with that. You’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because it’s something that he did to make you suddenly feel much more comfortable around him, but you cannot think straight for long enough to come to a conclusion anyway, as he tilts your head upwards with his other hand and kisses you again. You fall into the rhythm of him moving his soft lips against yours immediately while all your thoughts disappear, and the way he hungrily slips his tongue past your lips again sends another shiver throughout your whole body. Feeling you reacting this strongly to him, his kiss only becomes more eager, and you’re starting to think that you weren’t the only one here who’s been harbouring secret feelings for the other for quite some time. 

When you part, he slides the dress off you - carefully, just like he promised - and when you now stand in front of him in only your underwear, he scans you from top to bottom again, and his lips slightly part at the sight. You feel a bit embarrassed by the way his stare won’t leave your exposed skin, so eventually you cup his face with your palms and pull him towards you, so you can kiss him again, forcing him to tear his gaze away from your body for at least a little while. Once he breaks the kiss, he pushes you backwards onto the bed, crawling on top of you. Your hands automatically find his arms to hold onto once he’s hovering above you, and you pull him closer to connect your lips once again. You keep kissing like this, tugging and tearing at clothes until eventually they’re scattered all over the floor, and only when you’re sitting in front of him, both of you completely naked, do you stop him in the middle of making out with you.

“Are you sure we can do this here?” you ask, breathless. You can barely finish your sentence, before Taeyang presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Why not?” he breathes.

“It’s Keeho’s bed after all…” you argue, and the guy in front of you cups your face with his hands, before letting his fingertips dance their way down your body, eventually resting them on your hips. You let out a shaky breath upon feeling his warm touch, and you shoot him another look, as if to remind him of your question.

“So what,” he simply states, before kissing you again, more intensely this time. Your hand finds its way up into his hair, and you pull him closer to keep him from breaking the kiss too soon. Still, once you’re forced to part for some air, you whisper,

“We can’t do this on his bed…”

“Do what?” Taeyang pries and you can’t believe he’s making you spell it out.

“Have sex,” you eventually say, and a satisfied glint shows in his pupils. Then, he uses his body weight to push your back into the sheets, and his lips find their way to your neck to trail kisses down to your collarbone. His hands reach yours, interlocking fingers, while his mouth wanders further south, kissing and nibbling on the skin on your breasts, and when you feel his hot tongue as a contrast to the chilly air around you on your nipple, a moan escapes you.

“You’re much more beautiful like this anyway,” he mutters, and adds under his breath, “You don’t need that stupid dress.” You moan again, finding yourself agreeing with him - that his attention is much better than Keeho’s approval for wearing a dress he likes on you. And so you squeeze his hands in yours, wiggling closer to the touch of his lips, and eventually Taeyang comes back up to share another passionate kiss with you, while one of his hands lets go of yours and he slips it between your legs. Another moan escapes your lips when you feel him dragging a finger up and down between your folds. He watches every single one of your reactions closely, but the way his intense stare won’t leave your face makes you feel the need to turn away from him, even if just for a second, and you find yourself conflicted about whether you want to show him the effect his touch has on you, or if you’d rather hide it. However, when he slips his finger inside you for a moment and another moan falls from your lips, you must realize that even if you want to, you won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

Your heavy breaths are getting quicker, and your torso rises and sinks, while Taeyang scatters kisses all over your chest. His fingers are pumping in and out of you at a steady pace now, and too soon his movements halt and he removes his hand from your core. A sense of deprivation overcomes you and you whine, but once you look down on his toned body, you can see the reason for his actions. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander your figure once again, and he positions himself between your legs, before pushing into you. Fingers interlocking once again, he makes eye contact with you to check if you’re feeling comfortable, and when he can find nothing but lust and pleasure reflecting in your pupils, he starts rolling his hips into yours. 

Maybe he’s a little too eager about it again, but at the same time you wouldn’t want him to stop for anything in the world. He connects his lips to the skin on your throat again, except that this time, you can feel his teeth grazing your skin in between kisses as well. Your fingers clench around his hands more and more with each time he slips almost all the way out of you, only to reach just a little deeper with every time he slams his hips back against yours, and you’re sure that by now, there must be several marks of your nails on the backs of his hands. And at the same time you can hear his groans right next to your ear, causing you to leave yet a few more of those marks.

“Y/N,” his strained voice calls out to you, and you feel another rush of adrenaline overcoming your whole body from that alone. “Be mine.” The words hit you right where you would usually feel your emotions bubbling up whenever you even so much as look at Taeyang, except that this time you neither have the ability nor the will to hide it. And so, you can’t answer with anything but a moan, and his name falls from your lips multiple times as you feel your high approach. Only a few more thrusts of his, and you’re coming undone underneath him, with your mind filled with nothing but him, and the blissful feeling of cumming around his hard cock. With another groan, he too cums inside you, and you can feel him filling you up, before he collapses on top of you.

You stay like this for a while, waiting for both your minds to clear up from the emotions that came with your orgasms, and after a while of feeling his weight on your body, you realize that the effect of the alcohol has started to fade as well. Your mind begins to replay everything that just happened, and eventually you mutter, while still staring at the ceiling,

“I’ll be yours.” Taeyang props himself up on his elbows upon hearing your words, and he takes a long look at your face while he’s hovering above you. Then, as if he had finally processed the meaning behind your words, his expression softens and he leans in to press his lips gently against yours.

“Good,” he whispers, merely an inch above you, so you can feel his breath on your skin. “I’ll be yours too.”

[cornyonmains]

Decided to read the novel for My Stand In, which is titled Professional Body Double. I'm a little disappointed with some of the changes the show made. Needless to say, novel spoilers ahead, though I won't touch on anything that hasn't happened in the show, as I'm only halfway through the book. Anyways, on to my first beef with the show.

One of the most informative aspects of Joe's character was changed. In the novel, Joe had also never been on bottom before, but that wasn't because he was holding out for someone special. At the beginning of the novel Joe is fielding offers for threesomes, the guy's been around the block and doesn't have a huge attachment to his virginity. Joe's character never bottomed because he'd quite simply never gotten the offer thanks to his more masculine looks. What makes this even more depressing is you find out that he thought it might have been his preference in the first place, but Joe being Joe, advocated about as well for himself during sex as he did anything else.

I think it was unwise to switch things up the way they did, because it really does explain a lot about why Joe was willing to suffer so many indignities to be with Ming. Joe asked for very little from the people in his life and didn't get it. Joe never really stood a chance when Ming came along and started giving him what he wanted.

Another thing I thought it was a shame the show didn't highlight is that in the novel, there's a fairly considerable age gap between Joe and Ming. Ming is 20 and Joe is 30. This actually offered a lot of explanation as to why Joe ignored a lot of Ming's red flags. He didn't ignore them, he just chalked a lot of it up to Ming being young and spoiled. But that's not to say the novel lets Joe off the hook.

Joe was, and I truly do lack a better word to describe this, completely servile to Ming. In the novels he waited on him hand and foot, created no real sexual boundaries with him, and preferred placating Ming's temper over challenging it. He was willing to meet any conditions for them to be together.

Ming's character progression is something I wish the show could have found a way to depict. Because during this time, Ming's development wasn't stagnant. What Joe had right, to an extent, was that Ming was young and still learning how to process his feelings. Towards the end of their first relationship, Ming had managed, for the most part, to regard Joe as completely distinct from Tong, and not just as a replacement. It's heavily implied he was in love with Joe, but just didn't know how to process these realizations that kept coming to him in piecemeal.

Ming liked the happy and relaxed environment he had with Joe in his condo, he was convinced nobody would ever be as sexually compatible with him as Joe, and he'd actually wanted to support him the first time Joe came home completely exhausted from set, but didn't say anything about it until he fucked up. Ming, who ran away to America as soon as he realized he was gay, did what Ming always did, he was quietly processing things, and was too young and stupid to give Joe a clue. He took for granted that Joe would be, in HIS words, obedient and docile.

The author of this, Shui Qian Qeng, is so good at writing gay toxicity it's stupid. It made me wonder if they're part of the community, but we don't speculate in this house, it's just a passing thought I had due to how nuanced the depiction of sexual confusion in this book is, particularly with Sol's character. Sexual confusion in BL tends to play very formulaically on screen. Existential crisis, a few heartfelt conversations, one cursed episode, a kiss at the end of the season, and everyone lives happily ever after. In the novel, Sol struggles for years, and is still processing his sexuality in an unhealthy way because the 'I'm straight, but only gay for this one guy in particular' trope so often used in BL is used in this novel, but to convey denial and sexual struggle. Upon Joe's death, Sol is still saying he's straight, but that Joe's the exception. This is treated with much deserved skepticism. Shui Qian Qeng, as a queer person who knows you're not reading this, bless you for that. I so desperately wish Sol's story would have been better adapted for the show.

To wrap things up on a lighter note, I also found out by reading this novel that tops and bottoms are referred to as ones and zeros in China. And my sheltered Midwestern ass was like, "Well that's rude." because one of them was a zero. Then I was like, "Well why would someone refer to themselves as a zero? That's not healthy." Then I started thinking about what the numbers looked like, 0 and 1, and was like, "Oh." It was an emotional rollercoaster.

[peachymilkandcream]

For The Glory Of Humanity|Part 3|Erwin x Reader

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, forced/arranged marriage, misogyny, domestic violence, yandere themes/behaviours, violence, Erwin being a (g)rape apologist, power imbalance, age difference, verbal/emotional abuse, murder, sexual coercion, blackmail, etc.

================================================

She watched the ranks of Scouts march by in their parades of grandeur. Ever since the retaking of Wall Maria the people collectively started to care about those who kept humanity safe again. While she had always been a personal supporter, it was for a different reason than most.

Like most girls, she came to the parades to see none other than Captain Levi himself, the heart-throb of the Walls. The man who every girl wished would notice her and be granted the title of Mrs. Ackerman.

However, unlike most when the Captain married she didn't feel envious of the coveted position being filled. The two clearly belonged together, always seen riding together and generally being near. What she envied was marriage itself. She wanted to have that look that Captain Levi gave Lieutenant Evelyn given to her by someone. Levi was clearly a loyal and passionate man, she wanted someone just like that.

Most of the men her age who came about courting were terribly immature. She was old enough to take her place in society and the only way to do that was to find a good husband. This was her purpose as a woman. Unlike Mrs. Ackerman, she had been born into wealth, so her chances at climbing the social ladder were higher than the other woman's. And yet, she had managed to snag one of the most powerful men in Wall Sina. How did she do it?

She didn't hate Evelyn for what she had and had accomplished. Levi would have never given her a second look anyway. It was a celebrity crush, the type most young girls have and then grow out of. If anything, she wanted to be like Evelyn. She was a naïve girl who had seen little of the world and didn't know how to handle herself. And here was this woman would was confident and strong, able to know what she wanted and got it. Married to the perfect man with money beyond her wildest dreams.

She wanted that. And now that the Ackermans had risen to such a level of class, finally she might be in the same circles of the man and woman she admired so much. Maybe she would get lucky and get to have a happily ever after like them.

================================================

Despite being in the same circles and on the same class level, she still felt nervous when it came to approaching the two heroes of humanity. They were dazzling and intimidating, untouchable to simple civilians like her.

Most called them Underground trash, but couldn't refute how high they had climbed and so quickly. To go from rags to riches in one generation was entirely unheard of. Clearly the Captain was incredible.

Incredible. Irreplaceable by this world's standards. How could she ever hope to find a husband even close to his level of perfection? It would be like finding a needle in a haystack. She would be doomed to either die an old maid or marry some weak and unfaithful fool.

"Look at him strutting around like that, thinking he's so high and mighty."

"He has aided in the fight against the Titans."

"Of course and I don't mean he's not a hero. But look at him. No breeding, just money made off of our tax dollars."

The conversation came from beside her, a group of lady friends that her mother frequently gossiped with.

"Agreed, but who honestly can hold a candle to him?"

"I'm telling you the Commander Erwin Smith. Now there is who we should be inviting into our circles. Just as much of a hero as Captain Levi, but with the breeding of a gentleman and a higher position. And besides, he practically taught that- boy-everything he knew. Brought him up into the position he is. That clearly shows his character."

Her head turned to where the one woman was gesturing. Taking in the Commander. She had never thought of it like that before. She wanted someone just like Levi, but why shoot so low? She had the family name, why not try and marry into the Smith family? They were well respected, his father being a teacher at a school for the elites, the Commander attending there himself. He was handsome, taller than the short Captain, and had much of the same personality, but less harsh.

But how to get him to notice her?

There was no beating around the bush. She had to be bold, something he would most likely respect. Or else she'd lose her chance to another girl. And hearing from friends that now that the dangerous Captain was off the market of eligible bachelors, all eyes were turning to his Commander. She had to make her move now.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she marched right up to the Commander and offered a curtsy.

"Commander Smith? I would just like to thank you for your service and for taking the time out of your busy and important schedule to attend a simple party that my parents are hosting."

He raises a brow. "Parents? You're Felix and Klara Blanke's daughter aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

She saw the wheels in his head turning. He knew now her social status, everyone knew it once she divulged her last name.

"Well Miss Blanke. If it takes fighting a war against the Titans is what it takes for us to meet it has been worth it."

She flushes. Most likely from this being the only real male attention she's ever received. "Do you know how to dance Commander? I haven't been asked all evening so I suppose I must be the forward one."

He offers her a small smile before setting down his glass. "A crime for no one to have asked a lovely creature like you. Allow me to do the honors then to save your reputation. Miss Blanke, would you like to accompany me for this dance?"

She smiles sweetly. "It would be my pleasure."

[tubbypeddle]

I don't know if you're still doing matchup trades, but I would love matchups from Parts 2, 5 and 6 of Jojo's. I will also totally do one for you to the best of my abilities if you want!

My Gender: Female, she/her

Personality: I'm generally a very calm, patient person, and I make an effort to not become angry or frustrated easily. I can come off as quiet, but warm up to people quickly and will talk and or listen to someone for hours. I generally try to be very attentive and supportive of the people I care for, and one of my biggest dreams is to be married one day, though I don't want children. I think a downside of my personality is that I can be a little insecure, and if I feel like someone doesn't like me or is annoyed at me I close myself off completely.

Hobbies: I am a huge classic literature fan, and read constantly, especially anything from the 1700's or 1800's, though I also particularly love Shakespeare. I'd say I always love a good story, no matter what medium it is in, and I love learning about history. I also really love to bake, though I'm not much of a cook.

Green Flag/Deal breaker: Unfortunately I have a thing for men older than me, especially if they're the fatherly or chivalrous type. I also like passionate, strong men who aren't afraid of speaking their mind or ideals. A deal breaker might be a guy who likes to "jokingly" insult or mess with their partner, especially insults or judgement. I know that's what some people like, but it's not for me.

Green Flag/Deal breaker: Unfortunately I have a thing for men older than me, especially if they're the fatherly or chivalrous type. I also like passionate, strong men who aren't afraid of speaking their mind or ideals. A deal breaker might be a guy who likes to "jokingly" insult or mess with their partner, especially insults or judgement. I know that's what some people like, but it's not for me.

Looks: As for looks I'd say I'd be considered generally attractive?I have very long, curly brown hair, brown eyes, and I'm narcissistically proud of my lips.

(Thanks in advance, 😘)

i got started on this as soon as i posted the other one!

sorry it's taking so long. you know busy schedules 🥲 I actually called off sick to finish this up LMAO

You've been training with Caesar under Master Lisa Lisa for years now. In fact, you showed up only months after Caesar did. Initially, she wouldn't have let you stay if you didn't earn your stay. But you managed to prove your worth to her eventually.

And Joseph was a reluctantly welcome addition to your little squad.

But it's not Joseph or Caesar that you fall for. They're not your type, and besides. They're more like annoying older brothers.

No, they're not the ones who catch your eye.

Instead it's one

Ultimate Being Kars

At first, he doesn't even notice you. He normally doesn't pay any mind to mortals at all, much less ones that show no initial prowess at some sort of physical strength.

It's when he notices you with Joseph and Caesar that you manage to pique his interest.

He cares not for mortal attractiveness, but he does admit you're "easy on the eyes", as Joseph calls you.

He acknowledges Lisa Lisa's strength, and she doesn't take weak people under her care. So what are you doing with them?

You have yet to prove yourself the way Caesar and Joseph are so desperate to. Why did Lisa Lisa take you in? What do you have to offer that he hasn't seen yet?

And it's not because you're a woman who's hiding your strength. Women were very valuable and successful warriors from his time. It's something else.

He has not met any mortal who knew of his history. Granted, he's been trapped in stone far longer than he would've had any chance to meet a mortal who would've known anything about his race and culture.

But the fact that you did definitely threw him for a loop the first time.

And because of lovely timeline fuckery, Kars does not get shot into space because you deserve a happy ending with him.

Kars is not the type to insult his partners, jokingly or in any other way. If he insults you, it's not intentional. He doesn't even insult you in arguments.

Kars does not care for blabbering very much, but he finds he does not mind yours very much. His people weren't talkers. They preferred to show their affection through violence and aggression. Proving your worth as a Pillarmen came by eating your first human. Pillarmen like Kars did not talk with each other.

Even with his family, he did not really sit down and have conversations with them. Conversations weren't needed when battles to the death were all the contracts needed between siblings. Whoever lived to see another day won their argument.

And, hey, you said you liked older men. Try a man who's been alive since 5000 B.C.

And I can understand the appeal in older men. It's that experience that you don't have, leaving you feeling like you can follow his lead and you won't feel so lost.

And if anybody would have experience, it's Kars.

(Experience in every field, might I add.)

He's not so much "fatherly" as he is a guiding hand, though. He raised Santana and Wamuu, yes, but it wasn't very much of a father-son relationship.

Similar can be said about you two, thankfully. He is happy to take the leading role, to guide you when you want or need it. It almost feels professional how firm he is with you. But maybe you're into that.

And it does wonders for making you feel less insecure, too.

PDA is not something he enjoys. If he wants to show his affection to you, he'd rather do it in the privacy of your home. That isn't to say he's ashamed of his relationship with you, or keeps it hidden. He makes it a point to bring you up in almost every conversation he has with a stranger.

"My partner would love this", "I need to tell my partner about this", "My partner would hate this, I should tell her immediately". That's his preferred term for you.

You are his partner. Which is an important distinction, especially since he also calls you his lover sometimes.

He sees you as his equal, which is why he prefers to call you partner.

If you like passionate men, he is an ideal passionate man.

He's all about passion, ambition. He never sees a point in hiding his intents behind pretty words, so he can come off as blunt, too. He always speaks what's on his mind because what's the point in hiding it? You are his partner, he wants you to know every thought he has.

From the smallest things, like what he thinks he wants for lunch that day, all the way to big things like where he sees your future together headed and what he has planned for you two.

He hides nothing from you. He feels no need to. He expects you to show him your everything, too.

He adores your patience. It has made loving him a lot easier for you, too. As an ancient superhuman, he does not have the easiest time acclimating to modern times. (as modern as they can be in the 1940s)

Honorary mention!

Rudolf Von Stroheim

..You can understand why you're with Kars, and not this other passionate man.

=-=-=-=

That's enough of Battle Tendency, though.

If you were to find yourself in the throes of the Italian Mafia, you'd find yourself enthralled by none other than

Risotto Nero

You met him when he'd needed information for a hit. He'd gone to the Investigation squadron, of which you are a part of, and that's where he'd met you.

He was immediately entranced by you.

You were quiet, which isn't out of place for the Investigation Department. All of you had this job because of your aversion to combat.

But you were different from the rest of your team. In a way that Risotto couldn't quite explain.

When the two of you get together, it's kept a secret from the rest of Risotto's team at first. Call him possessive, but he wants you all to himself before his team eventually gets their hands on you, too.

This isn't to say that once the two of you reveal your relationship to his team that he's secretive. He doesn't want it kept a secret after revealing yourselves to his men. He wants people to know that he's yours. He likes people knowing that they can't have you, because you chose him over them.

Basically, he loves PDA.

If you'd gotten with him before he betrayed the Boss, he might've been a bit more private with his relationship with you.

But he's a free man now, free from the Boss's reign.

So maybe he likes to show you off a bit more than is normal.

He also doesn't want kids. He can't stand the thought of having to care for a life so precious when he couldn't even protect his cousin in their youth.

But he is really intrigued by the idea of marriage.

Ever since he'd joined the mafia, marriage wasn't something he ever considered. It just wasn't something he could ever consider. He didn't want to involve a partner in his dangerous life, especially one that he'd care for so immensely like a wife.

It reassures him in an odd way that you were already involved with the mafia before he met you. That means that it wasn't him who dragged you into this mess, and that you're at least strong enough to handle yourself if things got ugly.

He guides his teammates with a firm but caring hand. It's something you find very attractive about him. How he can be strict without being unkind. Especially when he shows this attitude to people he has direct power over, like his team. It's such a green flag when a man doesn't abuse his authority over others.

He finds all of your interests interesting. He likes listening to you talk about anything and everything. You're just so passionate whenever you're talking about things that interest you. He finds it just as attractive as he finds it cute.

He appreciates your patience. He knows his team is a lot to deal with. From Ghiaccio's hair-trigger temper, to Melone's...everything. You tolerate them with a patience that surprises even him. But anyone who can appreciate his team is someone he's not letting go of very easily.

He doesn't mind that you get insecure sometimes. He's happy to reassure you. He's had his fair share of insecurities, even if he's a master at hiding it. He's gotten better over the years at reassuring himself about his own insecurities, and he uses those own tactics to help you feel better about whatever you need to feel better about.

Honorary mentions!

Bruno Bucciarati

He's got this sad, mature air about him that initially drew you in. Unfortunately, Bruno is a family man, through and through. And perhaps his team might be a bit much for you to properly handle. At least all of Risotto's team are adults by the time you meet them. Bucciarati's team is mostly a mess of teenage hormones and homicidal tendencies.

=-=-=-=

In Stone Ocean, however.

You've been an inmate at the Green Dolphin State prison for years, at this point.

Emporio is a good friend of yours, already. He brings you to his Stand room very soon after you meet him.

There, you also meet

Weather Report

It was love at first sight for him.

It was Emporio who had introduced the two of you. You had helped Emporio once without meaning to, and he decided you were a friend and brought you back to his Stand room.

Weather Report was silent when you first met. He barely spoke above a whisper, as par the course with him.

But that's not what surprised Emporio about Weather's reaction to first meeting you.

Weather's eyes literally sparkled, when he first saw you. It was so noticeable to Emporio, who had basically grown up with Weather Report.

It takes him ages to confess.

You come into Emporio and Weather's life years before Ermes or Jolyne come into the picture, and still, Weather needs Jolyne's help to confess anything to you.

He wanted his confession to be sweet and romantic. It ended up being almost rushed, because he gets so impatient with himself that he just blurted out his (rehearsed) confession to you at the worst possible time.

After that whole mess, though, he's a wonderful lover.

He's thoughtful, and affectionate, and great at reassuring you without using his words too much.

He loves observing you. Really, he stares so much. Even he notices it. He's just thankful you don't point it out too often and save him from the embarrassment.

He's not one to talk needlessly, so he's happy to listen to you rant. Really, he could sit there for days on end just listening to you talk if that were possible, or if you'd let him.

Weather isn't really the kind of guy who wants children. He tolerates and respects Emporio, but not the same as he'd treat any other child. He tolerates and respects Emporio like he's an adult, because he's awkward and doesn't know how to talk to children properly.

As he is now, Weather doesn't want kids. He thinks they're a hassle.

But marriage...

He can't wait to marry you. Literally on par with Anasui with how often he thinks about getting married to you.

He has potential rings that he'd propose to you with, where you'd hold your wedding, even what season you'd have your wedding. Weather would love a winter wedding, if only to see how the cold raises goosebumps along your skin. He would imagine what your wedding dress would look like, but he refrains because he wants that to be your surprise to him.

Maybe he's a little delusional, but that's okay. At least he's happy to wait a few years into your relationship to propose. And not. Just. Putting a ring on you when you're sleeping in a car.

He has quite the elaborate proposal planned, anyway. Perhaps he'll do it in a private room at a museum that he takes you to for a date. Or maybe in the intimate setting of your shared bedroom, just after you've gotten out of the shower.

Many daydreams, this man has.

He has no qualms about showing you affection in public. He likes everyone knowing that you're his. And that he's yours, just the same.

He's touchy, but not in, like. The normal way.

He just needs to have his hands on you. Sometimes he's sweet. He'll hold your hand and follow behind you happily. Or he'll hang over your shoulder like a second Stand.

But most of the time, while he's sitting beside you, he'll just bite you. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough for it to be noticeable. Standing in line and there's a moment of quiet between you two? Chomp right on the shoulder. Laying in bed reading? He's probably nibbling on you arm.

Even if he's just laying on your lap, he's probably fantasizing about biting your legs.

(Believe me, that translates to...other fields in your relationship, too.)

Weather doesn't talk much usually. But with you, you two could talk each other in circles for days on end. It's a constant ADHD talk circle for you two. Always talking and infodumping as much as you can. And somehow, it never gets old.

He always has conversation topics in mind, and he's always asking you questions about anything and everything that either of you two are into.

Honorary mention!

Thunder McQueen

At first, I just thought this would've been funny, but I really feel like he would've loved you. He's desperately in need of someone who cares enough to make an effort into being patient with him.

[geeks-universe]

Kiss of Death pt. 5

Anthony Bridgerton x Assassin!Reader

Society has certain expectations of you. If only they knew of your nighttime activities…

“Good morning, Viscount,” you greeted warmly from behind a large plate of food.

The night before you’d snuck away to meet Graham, letting him give you a quick once over to make sure there were no lasting injuries. All things considered, you felt pretty good. You’d managed to get a decent amount of sleep, and now the only thing keeping you from tackling the day was the overwhelming hunger battling your stomach.

“Princess,” he answered, evenly- cautiously.

His eyes were scanning your body, and it only took you a second to realize why. He was searching for visible evidence of some forbidden escapade he had no doubt conjured.

Your absence had been noted, you knew, but you had informed Daphne you were just retiring early. Anthony hadn’t believed it.

You cleared your throat, turning your attention to the woman on your left who had just sat down a plate of warm pastries.

“Sorry for my abrupt departure last night,” you explained, your voice soft. “Liana escorted me back to your home.”

Liana, the maid in question, froze momentarily.

Her dark eyes assessed the scene, and you desperately hoped she’d connect the pieces. Liana was a highly trained assassin who had spent a lifetime learning how to read body language, the same way you had.

She was nearing her mid-twenties, and already had an impressive list of feats she’d accomplished in the Order. The Bridgertons didn’t know that, though. She played the role of your companion, a maid that had been with your family since she was a child. Technically, it wasn’t a lie outside of what her true occupation was.

But, your father was adamant she accompany you, and considering you had no maids of your own, the role was the most natural choice. Not that Liana was particularly happy about it.

“Too much dancing, I’m afraid,” Liana nodded sympathetically, and if you didn’t know her as well as you did, you might’ve actually believed her.

The dry look on your face did nothing to sell the story, but Anthony was satisfied with the answer, relieved you hadn’t left with another man.

“Did you enjoy any of the suitors?” Daphne asked politely, but the nearly imperceptible upturn of her lips spoke of something you didn’t quite understand.

“They were…” You couldn’t fight back the grimace. “Nice.”

Daphne laughed in return.

“In time I’m sure you’ll find the perfect match, as my Daphne has,” Violet said sweetly, and then began trying to extract details of how her relationship with the Duke was progressing.

You couldn’t help but gaze in wonder at the young woman as she practically glowed talking about the Duke. You hadn’t met Simon yet, hadn’t really had the chance, but the way she spoke of him made you appreciate him a little more. Daphne was absolutely besotted by him, and it caused a twinge of longing in your heart.

Like the Bridgertons, you were raised in a house filled with love. Granted, your parents were both assassins, as well as royalty, but the love they had for each other- and, by extension, you- was real. For a brief moment, you wondered what it might feel like to be in love with someone, to trust them with the whole of who you were, to feel safe. You wanted to shed the armor you wore around your heart, if only for a minute, to remember what it felt like.

Then, you could see your mother’s eyes as the light faded from them. You could feel your father’s agony as he held onto you, screaming at the world that had left you without a mother, the same pain burning your heart in the confines of your chest.

The deep scar just above your bellybutton flared to life, and you felt the wonder turn to ash in your mouth.

You couldn’t let yourself go through it all again.

You couldn’t love.

“I shall meet you at the park for the promenade at noon, I’m afraid I have business until then.”

You didn’t miss the confusion that flashed in Liana’s expression.

You did not, in fact, have business.

Graham had very explicitly banned you from your duties for the next week. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew better. Him and Liana were the only ones that knew you were there against your father’s wishes. He truly did think you’d gone to search for a husband.

If he’d known the truth he never would’ve let you step foot in London.

So you played the part for your father as well. Your steps were a bit heavier than normal as you walked away from the Bridgerton family, feeling the presence of Liana close behind.

“(Y/N),” she hissed against the sudden burst of wind as you opened the door.

London was as bustling as usual, and for once, you found yourself among them, rather than watching from the rooftops like some kind of hidden savior.

We work in the dark to serve the light, indeed.

“No work,” you assured her, letting yourself get lost in the crowd.

Liana, however, stayed closed by your side. She kept her gaze on you, and, when you passed a hidden alley tucked in the dark corner of a considerably quiet street, she pulled you to the side.

“What is it?”

She had been your closest confidant since you were a kid. Despite her being a number of years older than you, you’d always been the best of friends. When you were young, you trained together every single day, learning the art of your craft side by side. Now, most days you didn’t get the opportunity.

“Memories,” you offered, pushing back against the panic that quickened your heart.

You forced yourself to focus on the ground, a steady reminder that you were here, no matter how much your mind tried to drag you to the past.

“Your mother-“

Her voice was so cautious, like it’d caused her pain to utter the two words. It had, you were sure. Your mother had been a parent to her as well, and the pain of her loss cut deep.

“Don’t.” You breathed, your vision swirling as you felt the familiar darkness crawl up your spine. “Please.”

Liana released a sigh, then pressed her fingers beneath your chin. She searched your gaze, reading your expression. You didn’t know what she was looking for, nor what she would find, but after a moment she seemed satisfied with her assessment.

“Don’t let them break you.”

She was gone in a few swift movements, propelling herself onto the shoddy roof of the rundown building. Just because you were sidelined didn’t mean she was, and you knew you couldn’t be bitter over it when your entire operation depended on all of you.

So you took a brief moment to steady your breathing, deciding maybe you could embrace the role you’d play for the next week. Being an assassin had always come first, and royalty second. It’d been that way since you were just a kid, learning to defend yourself with dull blades.

Your parents hadn’t meant to let you train at a young age, even planned on delaying telling you about their extracurricular activities, but after your father had been gravely injured and had stumbled into you, they’d explained it all.

Truthfully, you were too young at the time to understand what it all meant, and, perhaps, if you were older, you might’ve chosen not to go down the route you did. After all, not everyone in the Order went on missions, some simply supported the Assassins. In recent yours, that’s what your father more or less became. He’d never been as quick or skilled as your mother, and after her death, he’d strayed from that path altogether, save the occasional need to don his Assassin robes.

You stretched, mindful of the stitches in your side, and jumped back into the fray of proper society. It was a role, you reminded yourself, one you might even have fun with if you let yourself.

It took you roaming around for a couple of hours to realize you would not, in fact, have fun with the charade. Every store you tried to enter gawked at the idea of you walking around without a chaperone. When you weren’t getting stared at for being unchaperoned, you were getting stared at hungrily by suitors hoping to get you in compromising situations.

By the time you had trudged back to the Bridgerton home to prepare for promenading in Hyde Park, you were in a sullen mood- a mood only made worse by the fact that there was still an impending conversation you owed Benedict Bridgerton.

You bathed yourself quickly, and dressed in a pastel green dress. It reminded you of the rolling hills outside your home, and the memories were enough to make you throw it on. Some days, you really did miss your home.

You knew, however, that you’d grown out of it. Your time as an Assassin, especially one as skilled as you, had taken you around the globe. The long, golden hallways and intricately painted ceilings felt foreign to you now. Perhaps the feeling of longing you felt wasn’t for your home specifically, but rather the feeling you experienced when you found home.

You puffed out a breath, deciding a walk to the park would do you good. You were getting much too sentimental this day, and it was only a matter of time before your past forced you to listen.

The walk to the park wasn’t far, and the gentle breeze of the wind reminded you of the times you’d spent high above the ground, perched just a nudge from the edge of a drop that would surely kill you. A week without being an Assassin.

A week without being you.

Daphne was the first to see you arrive, and she had a wide smile on her lips that you found yourself returning. She was a sweet girl, and you liked to think that in a different world, one where you weren’t indoctrinated into the Order at such a young age, you might’ve been more like her.

“Your highness,” she greeted sweetly, drawing the rest of her family’s attention. “It is wonderful to see you.”

Her voice was so genuine it made your heart squeeze in your chest. All of your friends were Assassins. As such, you’d all been a bit more distant, death hanging over your heads like a rain cloud, waiting for when you least expected it to strike.

“It is wonderful to see you too,” you replied in kind, and found that you did mean it.

You cleared your throat.

“Is your Duke planning on making an appearance?”

She didn’t comment on your use of the word ‘your’ but she definitely reacted to it. Pink tinged her cheeks, and she offered you a meek nod, so unlike her normally carefully spoken self.

Noted.

You tilted your head in Benedict’s direction, steadfastly ignoring the curious look Anthony was shooting you. He was connecting non-existent dots in regards to you and Benedict, but you’d let him do so, if only because he couldn’t know the truth. And, perhaps, in an effort to keep a distance between you.

“Benedict,” you called, your voice a little softer than normal. “You promised a stroll around the park?”

His momentarily confusion was shook off as he understood what you were alluding too, nodding far too enthusiastically. Whether he realized it or not, he was selling the idea that there may be something more than friendship between you. A quick glance at Anthony confirmed he believed so too, if the scowl on his face was anything to go by.

You ignored it, however, instead looping your arm through Benedict’s and leading the two of you to somewhere a little quieter. You waited until you were sufficiently outside of earshot before you began speaking, and even then, you scanned the area to make sure there were no wandering eyes or ears.

“About the other-“

“I was in a fight,” you said, watching his expression carefully.

He didn’t falter, as if that’d been one of his suspicions. He nodded slowly, cautiously.

“Okay,” he drawled, “Why?”

You sucked in a breath, pulling him towards a lovely rose bush. To anyone of the outside, it looked simply as if you’d stopped to admire them. Truthfully, you’d taken a minute to gather your thoughts.

“What I’m about to say, you cannot repeat.”

Before he could reply, you hissed out, “Ever.”

He swallowed, then paused.

“I promise.”

Your eyes hardened, one hand holding onto your forearm, atop the bracers your hidden blades were concealed in. You hadn’t been able to put the weapons down since you got to London.

“Do you think peace and freedom can coexist?”

If he was confused by your question, he didn’t show it. His answer was near immediate, and perhaps you knew what his reply would be before he even voiced it.

“Yes,” he mumbled. “I don’t see how that answers anything, though.”

You nodded, tapping your fingers along the bracer. It wasn’t visible under the fabric of your dress, and if anyone wondered why you wore sleeves in the warm weather, nobody asked.

“There’s a war,” you spoke slowly, allowing him to digest your words. “For as long as history itself, a battle between freedom and order. My family… we fight for freedom.”

He furrowed his brows, leaning in a titch to examine you closer.

“You… fight?” He inquired, shaking his head the smallest bit. “What war? What are you talking about?”

“Assassins and Templars,” you breathed, watching as his eyes widened, not in recognition of the institutions, but in fear of the word you’d used.

Assassin.

It was an ugly word used to describe an occupation associated with greed and death. He didn’t know about the Order, though. Didn’t know that the Assassins you knew weren’t murderers without a cause, but defenders of the very freedom he enjoyed.

“You’re an-“

“Assassin,” you answered, quick to wrap a tight grip around his arm when he made to turn around.

For whatever reason, or maybe stroke of luck, he believed you. Unfortunately, he wasn’t associating you with the Order, but rather the occupation.

“Let me explain,” you breathed out, making sure to keep your voice even and gentle.

Even though he looked ready to dart away and take his family with him, he nodded once.

You blew out a breath, carefully letting his arm go. He rubbed at where you’d grabbed, and you realized perhaps you’d been holding on a little too tight.

“The Assassin Order is an ancient creed built on the idea of freedom of choice,” you explained, letting your carefully placed mask drop.

You didn’t fight the expressions on your face, nor did you keep your body language unnaturally still. For the first time since you’d known him, you were expressive.

“We don’t kill for money, Benedict,” you said, “Nor for political gain. If we kill,” his eyes widened at the word, “We do so as a last resort to protect others.”

“You’ve killed before?”

He sounded unnaturally small, like a child telling his parents he had a nightmare. You held his stare, praying he could see the sadness deep in your soul.

You hated killing.

It never, ever got easier.

But, you would darken your soul to protect the world from the ugly truth the Templars tried to spread.

“Yes,” you whispered, your eyes shining with a guilt Benedict couldn’t understand.

He puffed out a breath and ran a hand down his face, unable to look into your eyes anymore. He could see the sadness there, the heaviness of the guilt and torment you carried.

You weren’t a bad person. He’d known that, and learning of who you were didn’t change that. It did complicate it a bit though.

“I won’t tell them,” he finally spoke after a particularly long pause. “My family, I mean.”

You were both staring at the roses now. To him, the deep red reminded him of the colors of love, like the still-beating heart of a lover. To you, it was the color of blood, the same sticky heat that stained your hands from the years you spent devoted to your cause.

In that park, you both stood in silence, two people who were starkly different, but perhaps, who could understand each other in a way nobody else could.

The romantic who, despite his station in life, only wanted to create, to make beauty in a world that severely lacked it- and the Assassin who, despite spending a lifetime of fighting, wanted to feel safe again.

Even the wind acknowledged the shift in atmosphere between the two people who actively rejected the roles they’d been born into as it calmed down, it’s caress more like that of a lover than it’d been all afternoon.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you murmured.

He linked his arm back through yours, offering a bit of comfort in the torrent of your thoughts. Slowly, he tugged you back towards where his family was, his pace nearly stopping before he got too close.

“Is it lonely?”

The question took you by surprise, and you looked up at him to find, not horror, but concern. You couldn’t understand how he’d been able to accept you so quickly, but you desperately clung to the feeling.

“Constantly,” you answered sadly, the curve of your lips echoing the melancholic declaration.

Anthony had approached the two of you while you answered, and, despite surprising Benedict, you’d already noticed him. With some amount of amusement, the second son noted that particular bit of information.

“Princess,” he said stiffly, without the normal amount of warmth and affection, or ire, you noted dryly. “Benedict.”

His brother’s name was a warning, and the younger of the two was quick to scurry away with a half-hearted excuse.

“Viscount,” you inclined your head.

He paused for only a brief moment before, with a little bit too much aggression, he asked, “Are you courting my brother?”

There was a hint of mischief as your smile grew, and you gazed up at Anthony beneath your lashes.

“That, I dare say, is none of your business.”

His expression turned even more foul, and he all but growled your name.

“No, my dearest Anthony,” you slipped a hand around his bicep and squeezed, your stomach doing a gentle flip when he visibly relaxed at the answer. “I am not courting anybody.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I must seem at least the slightest bit interested in my suitors, lest word get back to my father,” you joked, unable to bear the intensity with which he was staring at you.

He opened his mouth, as if to tell you to stay, but you slipped away before he could, your heart pounding in your chest. You glared at the spot, like you could will it to slow down.

Anthony Bridgerton was not, and could never be, an option.

[sunnyscripts]

[Door, footsteps] (Muffled) Hey, you did it, G! How was your first and hopefully last nab and grab? They’re unharmed and in one piece, I see.

I gather from the cursing and yelling that you didn’t gag them before you put the bag over their head. God forbid we have to do this again, but if we do, we should invest in gags or some sort of knockout gas. Make a note of that.

Alright, alright, I get that this is very shocking for you, but I’d really appreciate it if you could calm down with the insults; criminals have feelings too. Believe me, I have nothing against you personally, and we’re going to try to make this as painless as-

[Cloth rustling, pause] You’re not the governor’s kid. (Aside) Giacomo, this is not the governor’s kid we were trying to ransom; who the fuck is this?

[Tapping on phone] (Direct) Excuse me just a second, doll. (Aside) This is the picture I showed you from last week’s newspaper. Look at it next to this civilian you’ve got tangled up in our business. They look nothing alike; how did you possibly mix them up?

Bud, what’s the point of us giving you a health plan including vision if you’re not going to use it? You’re taking the day and going to the optometrist, boss’s orders, before your nearsightedness gets you and me killed.

[Groan, deep breath] (Pensive) Alright. How are we going to take care of you…

No, we’re not going to kill you! I don’t know what sort of Godfather-esque, dark romance stuff you’ve been reading or watching, but organized crime is a fairly tidy process nowadays. Making people sleep with the fishes is costly and messy. Me and mine almost exclusively work in money laundering and counterfeiting.

(Abashed) This, admittedly, is a bit of a special case. See, our local governor, running for re-election based on his staunch, Christian family values?

(Fiery) Yes, the one with the ill-fitting suits. I’m always saying that; the man doesn’t know how to dress. You know what he does know how to do? Woo his way into sweet, unsuspecting women’s hearts and beds without telling them he’s married. Sweet unsuspecting women like my widowed Auntie Nina who thought she was getting a second chance at love and got nothing but an NDA and a frankly insulting amount of hush money.

I fucking know, right? So you see why this is a special case, why we had to make this personal and see how he likes people he loves not being treated like they deserve… or, rather, we tried to. Where did we go wrong there, by the way? (Aside) Giacomo, where were you that you managed to pick up a stray instead of doing your job?

That’s right, that schmuck had an event at the library: shaking hands, kissing babies, probably being a worse role model and reader than the drag queens he hates. I thought it was closed to the public; that’s why we planned the kidnapping then. (Direct) Are you on his campaign team, doll? Because I hate to break it to you, your boss is a fucking asshole.

(Aghast) You’re a librarian? (Aside) You kidnapped a librarian?

You are fucking killing me, man. What are you gonna do next- roll a nurse and kick us down to a lower circle of hellfire and brimstone? Do me a favor and go out and start the car, please, so we can try to get some good karma back.

[Door] Sorry about all this, let’s get you untied, out of this stinking warehouse, and back home.

Of course we’re going to take you home, doll, safe and sound. You’ve suffered enough because of me and my cousin out there, and keeping you quiet the old-fashioned way wouldn’t benefit us at all. Like I said, I like my crimes like I like my money: untraceable and unbloodied.

Hand to god. Besides, I’m a mobster, not a monster. Libraries are an important part of the community, and I appreciate people like you who keep them running as best as you can. I might even want to stop by and say hello if that’s alright with you.

Because I think you’re interesting. I’ll grant you, it’s partly cause I’d rather you not snitch to the feds but mostly because I’d like to see you again.

In the past two hours, you’ve had a sack thrown over your head, been manhandled into a van, strapped to a chair, and left to stew in fear in a cold, dank warehouse of god knows what. In those two hours, you haven’t lost your cool or nerve even once. You didn’t cry, beg, or scream. You cursed me out, called me words I won’t repeat in your polite company, and did a real number on my associate if him limping out of here is any indicator. I can’t say I meet someone like you often, even in my line of work.

[Laugh] You’re giving me, a seasoned criminal, terms and conditions?

Oh, I like you.

Alright, doll, I’ll bite; I’m invested. What must I do if I want to come see you at work?

No more illegal activities on library grounds, that’s a fair enough ask. What’s the second thing?

[Hearty, genuine laugh] Oh, it goes without saying that I’ll be the one driving you home. I love G, I do, but I wouldn’t trust him to navigate us out of a paper bag at this point.

Performances:

(Credit to the beloved @mr-laveau for the fill and art ☀️)

[waters-and-the-wilde]

fuck it okay i am once again thinking about Jet teaching Nureyev how to cook

it starts with Juno trying to teach Nureyev how to cook, because Juno can cook and Nureyev realizes he's never had the chance to learn how and wants to make a go of it. it Goes Poorly not because Nureyev is a disgrace who sets the kitchen on fire, but because between the way he is as a person and the way Juno is as a person, it's an extremely frustrating experience. Juno Can Cook but that doesn't mean he Can Teach, there are a lot of concepts that he can just take for granted because of like growing up In A House and knowing What Appliances Do. he knows how to throw together some decent meals but not how to Explain The Process and Demonstrate How It Works, 'i dunno it just does okay??'

It's a whole 'can they assemble ikea furniture together' type thing, every time they try Juno gets impatient and Nureyev gets defensive and they wind up bickering and having to troubleshoot their communication again later that evening. maybe they manage to get through making what they set out to do but Nureyev doesn't actually feel like he retained any of the knowledge to be able to do it again next time, and neither of them really enjoy the experience which is a bummer for them both in its own right.

but Nureyev as a guy who can do anything he sets his mind to is like 'nonetheless i must learn to make a breakfast for my lady love for the days when he can't get out of bed.' and he starts watching Jet, who fields most of the family dinner type meals and has a sourdough starter and ferments things. he could ask Jet if he wants help, but it's hard enough trying to learn new things and make mistakes and be bad at things in front of Juno and he's feeling discouraged enough that he does not want to deal with Jet thinking he's just ingratiating and underfoot, or bluntly picking apart everything he's doing wrong, he might actually cry okay? he's already anxious enough about Wasting Food or Causing A Fire or Damaging The Cooking Implements. but if Jet says he wants help that's fine because Nureyev is more than happy to Be Available and in the meantime he'll do his best to absorb things by proximity

Jet does not know why Ransom is hovering in the kitchen watching him cook, but if he cared to know, he would ask point blank. and if Ransom does not want to be voluntold to help with dinner, he would not hover in the kitchen. Nureyev's nefarious scheme is working, insofar as Jet does not respond to hints but he does do what he wants and he wants help with cooking dinner. Nureyev is now in a position to Ask Questions, and the brilliant thing about working with Jet is that Nureyev can in fact Ask A Stupid Question and Get A Stupid Answer concise and matter-of-fact face-value response to something that might otherwise be considered obvious. and if Jet is being facetious, he's doing a damn good job at not showing it (and also he tends to save that up for Juno)

it is still a frustrating experience because Cooking Is Very Difficult and Nureyey is Trying Very Hard and getting distracted and flustered and making just the worst jokes around someone who does not think he is even a little bit funny and is not about to bother to pretend otherwise. and there is absolutely no one better for this right now. because The Thing Is. that Jet Gets It. because he had to claw his way into 'repetition and focus; control over every part' years ago. because it is abundantly clear to him that he is not teaching Ransom How To Cook, but How To Learn New Things When Not Under Extreme Duress. because Jet Has Opinions about Contriving Surprise Factors In The Learning Process and the moment Nureyev indicates that was how he was taught, his immediate response is 'then whoever taught you that that was very irresponsible and should not have done so'

(Nureyev gets very quiet and spacey for the rest of the day and eventually Juno storms into the garage spoiling for a fight, all 'what the hell did you say to him I haven't even been able to find him for the last three hours' and Jet very gravely relays the conversation and 'it was not my intention to upset him but unless he is able to communicate why he is upset, I am in no position to address it' but Juno's just still staring at him and then he sits down and then he starts getting the big sad-eye and then he's like 'never mind Big Guy. hey completely unrelated but can I um. give you a hug?')

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Hang Out With Eddie One on One

lsekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<-- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Recommended Previous Chapter: ==> N/A

Chapter Summary: It's your first time hanging out with Eddie Munson one on one.

Tags: angst, hurt/little to no comfort, mentions of nausea but Reader does not throw up, Reader has a small panic attack, references to Flight of Icarus events, Oops! All Angst!

@jo-harrington I did warn in my list that I could be a Monkey's Paw Author

Reader ==> Ride Shotgun with Eddie

Your body almost hurt from how stiff you felt, both from the shitty futon you’d been sleeping on at Benny’s on the nights that the different sports teams weren’t trashing the place, and from how tense you felt sitting shotgun in Eddie’s van. 

You wished you could relax and not come across as a total weirdo to the guy sitting next to you. Eddie was currently driving you to his place, with the promise of letting you borrow a few cassettes and selling you some weed. 

When you thought back to your old life before sliding into this world, you had hazy memories of smoking with friends, but sometimes you remembered differently. Either way, it was a good excuse to spend some one on one time with him. 

If you didn’t know anything about Eddie it’d be easier, but so far you couldn’t look at him for longer than a few seconds without thinking about-

Well, you were just going to not think about that. Not yet. 

Eddie took a sharp turn and you reached up instinctively to grab the “oh shit” handle and tried not to slam into the door. 

“Jesus, Eddie.” you muttered, wondering if his driving would kill you before you had a chance to try and save him. If he could hear you over the sound of Judas Priest blasting through his old rattling speakers, he didn’t show it. 

You dared to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Eddie was wearing a band shirt so faded you couldn’t make out what it said from this angle, and ripped jeans. His head was moving to the music and you could see him mouthing the words the the song that was playing, and his hands were banging against the steering wheel occasionally. 

This was Eddie’s world and you were just living in it. Literally 

“We covered this song once.” Eddie said, looking over at you for a second. Your heart jumped for a second and you wondered if you would ever get used to him acknowledging you. “My band I mean. Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh, yeah?” you responded with a slight pause beforehand. Wish you weren’t so fuckin’ awkward, self. You chastised yourself. 

“Yeah, in middle school we were all forced to perform at the talent show.” Eddie laughed, mostly to himself. “It was a nightmare. I thought I was gonna puke, man.” 

You stared at him, wrapping your mind around this. Why was it so easy to accept that the other characters had lives before, during, and after what you had seen on tv but with Eddie it was different? 

Because he only had ten minutes of screen time before he was wanted for murder. You reminded yourself. 

“They forced you to perform?” you asked, trying to imagine him, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant as pre-teens. Had the other kids been forced to perform? Steve? Nancy? You made a mental note to ask about that later.

“Yeah it was a stupid rule.” Eddie took another dangerous turn that made you grip your seat with white knuckles. He at least decided to turn down the music just a bit before continuing with his story. “I avoided it as long as I could but they managed to corner me into signing up. I refused to go down alone though so I roped some friends into joining me and thus, Corroded Coffin was born.”

“So you’ve been friends with the others since middle school?” you asked. If Eddie hadn’t been driving like a maniac you might have been able to relax a little as he led the conversation. 

“Oh, no. Gareth joined in on drums in my second senior year.” he explained. “It was originally me, Ronnie, Jeff, and Dougie.”

Well, you knew at least two of those names. Jeff and Gareth had been there the night that Dustin asked for you to sub in for Grant. You didn’t remember much about them other than how they looked at you like fresh meat thrown to a wolf pack. 

“A middle school talent show, huh?” you asked, finally looking at him for more than just a few seconds at a time. “Were you any good?”

“Oh, not even a little. We got boo’d off the stage and a ton of parents complained about our choice of song.” he smiled brightly, full teeth. “I’m pretty sure they changed the ‘everyone must perform’ rule after that.” 

“Sounds like you failed for the good of all the kids in Hawkins. Bet you’re a hero to some of them.” You bit your tongue wincing at your choice of words. Hero. It was so cheesy and too on the nose. It didn’t mean anything. It meant everything. It meant nothing. Just stop overthinking-

“It’d be the first time someone thought I did any good in school.” Eddie said, pulling into the Happy Hills Trailer Park. He pulled up in front of his trailer and parked, and you hopped out, glad to be on steady ground. 

Your watch said that it was around seven thirty. You’d walked all the way to the high school to be picked up by Eddie after Hellfire, he’d offered to pick you up at your place but... well you didn’t need him knowing where you were staying right now. 

“Eddie.” An older man was sitting on the porch, cigarette in hand, as he nodded at his nephew. 

“Thought you’d be off to work by now, Wayne.” Eddie said, hopping on the steps to the porch. 

“Just about to head out.” Wayne’s eyes drifted over to you, taking in a drag and looking you up and down. Had it been any other old man, you would have felt deeply uncomfortable, yet with Eddie’s uncle you felt like- you couldn’t place it. If you had to take a shot in the dark, you assumed that he was trying to decide if he should judge you. 

Actually, maybe you were a little uncomfortable now. 

Eddie grabbed your shoulder and pushed you up to stand next to him as he introduced you. 

You shot your hand out and gave him the best hand shake you could. “Nice to meet you.” you said. Wayne took your hand with his free one and shook it, giving you a nod. Whatever he had been thinking before disappeared and he stood up and flicked his cigarette off the porch. 

“Don’t stay up too late.” Wayne said, heading towards his truck, parked on the other side of the trailer. “Granny dropped off a casserole in the fridge if you get hungry.” 

The scent of cigarette smoke hung stale in the air of the trailer, and Eddie cracked a window in an attempt to air it out. You looked around, taking in the interesting choice of decore. 

“Do you want a drink?” Eddie asked, looking over at you as you stared at the walls. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” you said, making eye contact with a Garfield mug by the door. 

“Why would that inconvenience me?” 

“Well if you get me a drink what would you drink out of?” you asked, scanning the seemingly endless shelves of mugs and hats on the walls. 

You heard Eddie laugh from the kitchen. “I’ll make due.” When you turned to look at him again he was holding a beer in his hand. No need for a mug then, you guessed. 

“No, really, this is a lot of mugs for two guys.” you said, looking around. The small living room had a couch and an old arm chair, and there were just so many fucking shelves of mugs. “And hats.” 

Eddie walked over to you and handed over a beer, which you took without a word. He’d been enough of a gentleman to even open it for you. You took a sip, trying to remember if you even liked beer. 

“It’s just something Wayne always collected.” Eddie said. “I never really thought too much about it. Actually I don’t think I ever see him wear hats much either, mostly during the summer.” 

“Do you wear hats?” You scanned the line of hats over one of the windows. 

“Not since I was a kid. Those caps just make my hair go everywhere.” 

“I like your hair.” 

Eddie looked at you and you made eye contact with him for the first time since he picked you up, making your stomach twist. He almost looked bashful at the compliment. 

“Thanks.” he looked like he might want to say more, but instead he turned around and started walking towards the opposite end of the trailer and you followed him. 

Eddie’s room was overwhelmingly Eddie. Your eyes scanned the room, picking out pieces of him as you went. There was a small closet that was a little open, showing a guitar body that didn’t have any strings, a homemade Corroded Coffin banner, posters that were plastered on almost every spare inch of wall, a yoyo on his dresser, his electric guitar hanging on his mirror.

You stared at the guitar and tried to calm the pounding of your heart, trying to push down the memories of seeing him play the instrument on the small screen of your computer back at home and what happens after. 

Calm down, calm down, calm down. You chanted in your mind and looked away from the dresser to where Eddie was on the other side of the bedroom. He was looking through a basket on the floor and you could hear the slight clacking sound of cassette tapes knocking together as he looked them over. 

“You might have to rewind these.” he said, tossing them on the bed. “And one of these isn’t done so when you find that one, give it back.”

You picked up one of the tapes, seeing the label with his handwriting. You had told him that you were interested in getting into more metal music and Eddie had been more than happy to offer up some of his mixtapes for you to borrow. 

“So what’s on all of these?” you asked, the labels not giving you any hint of what could be on them. Faerune, Ralishaz the Mad, Stroud’s Castle Caper, Middle Earth. You read each label one by one, realizing that all of these had something to do with D&D or fantasy, the fucking nerd. 

“A bit of everything.” He said, taking a seat on his bed, looking at the tapes. “Just whatever I was into at the time that I didn’t want to miss when it came on the radio.”

“And the labels...?” you asked, looking them over, noticing a smudge on one that faded to a fingerprint. You wished that you could ignore the small details that were making Eddie so real, it only made your head spin. The more of him you saw, the harder it became to say you weren’t going to try and change anything. 

Even if it means risking your own life? 

You missed his explanation of why he named the tapes the way he did and you instead shoved one out at him “Can you put one on?” you asked, sounding a little more frazzled than you had intended. 

Eddie took the tape and put it in the smaller boom box that was plugged in on the floor and hit play. You sat next to him, trying so hard not to think about him, which was a stupid endeavor considering you were in Eddie Munson’s world, in Eddie Munson’s trailer, sitting on Eddie Munson’s bed, with Eddie Munson.

You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s bed. You were sitting on his bed right next to him. You felt yourself get stiff again, and you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. With any luck he would just think that you’re focusing on the music instead of trying to shove down the sudden wave of dirty thoughts that drowned out your moral dilemma and left you with a completely different problem now. 

This is what you get for reading so much fan fiction. 

Reader ==> Calm the fuck down

You focused on the sound of the music, the last ten seconds of the song were cut off abruptly with a new song. The sound of the radio DJs announcement of the new song adding to the homemade quality of the tape. 

You took another sip of the beer that had been ignored in your hand, letting the burn of the cheap drink distract you and pull you out of your mind for a moment. Eddie had started talking again, telling you about the song and more technical things about the guitar solo. 

He’s info dumping. You realized, and opened your eyes again. You looked at him and he wasn’t looking at you, just going on and on about the song, fiddling with one of his rings. 

He’s nervous. The retaliation hitting you like a brick. You had been so wrapped up in your own nerves of being alone with him that it never once occurred to you that he might be feeling nervous around you. You couldn’t fathom why. You were just some weirdo who crashed his club once and now were trying to be his friend in an attempt to eventually save his life. He only knew about that first part though. 

You were tempted to reach out and rub his back to calm him down, but you didn’t want to be too forward. 

“I like the song.” you said when he stopped to take a breath. “I can see why you do, too.” 

You noticed his shoulders relaxed a little and he smiled at you and you wished he wouldn’t because you didn’t think your heart could take it. 

“I listened to this tape a lot last summer.” he said as another song came on, and the whiplash from metal to what sounded like country. 

“This is different.” you said. “I didn’t take you as a country fan with the... everything about you.”

Eddie stood up and walked over to his dresser, digging around through a drawer and pulling out a small bag of weed. Right, that’s the other reason you used to hang out with him tonight. 

“Yeah, my mom was from Mempis.” he said, measuring out what you’d asked him for and you started scrambling for your wallet and pulled out the time-appropriate cash you had in there. “So I grew up with this kind of music.”

You two exchanged goods and you shoved the baggie in your backpack. From where you were sitting, you noticed another guitar that you’d missed when you first stepped in his room. It was an acoustic guitar sitting in the corner, out of the way but not so much that it looked completely ignored. Eddie had gone in and painted words on the body of the guitar, squished together as if he hadn’t thought out how he should space out his writing. 

This Machine Slays Dragons.

Of all the small bits of Eddie that you had learned in the past few days, this was the thing that punched you in the gut and humanized him completely. The site of this acoustic guitar is what made you feel clammy and the weight of this world suddenly came crashing down on your shoulders. 

“Have you ever been to Tennessee?” you asked, your voice sounding foreign to you as you tried desperately to anchor yourself. 

Five things you can see. Guitar. Another Guitar, Corroded Coffin banner. Empty beer can. Eddie

That wasn’t going to work. 

“No, I’ve never left Hawkins.” Eddie said, putting his stash away, oblivious to the storm that was raging inside your brain. “Mom, uh, used to talk about how her music felt like a plane ticket home even if she was stuck here. I say that my bands music is more like a portal to another dimension-”

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked, your stomach lurching. 

His head snapped up at you, and you tore your eyes away from the guitar as his words echoed in your mind. 

Portal to another dimension. Portal. Another dimension. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie asked, taking a step close to you, his brows were furrowed under his fringe as he looked you over. When you didn’t immediately answer, he pointed out of his bedroom “Bathroom is right there.”

You gave him a nod and quickly locked yourself in the bathroom and tried not to hurl. He was real, Eddie was real and he was going to die if you didn’t do something. Eddie was real, and he listened to blue grass, and he had an acoustic guitar that he painted himself, and he made mix tapes, and he had a mom, and he owned a yoyo and he just sold you weed and he was going to be killed by monsters trying to save this town and the world. 

It took a moment to calm yourself, taking deep breaths. You had been lying to yourself since the day you arrived. You had been telling yourself that this was alright, that you were totally able to handle being transported to another dimension, knowing what was going to happen.You could be a hero and save everyone. 

That was a fucking lie. You were still trying to tell yourself that this was a dream, that this wasn’t really happening and that these people didn’t really exist because they couldn’t exist. 

But they did. They existed, and you were no hero. Eddie’s voice echoed and layered with yours in your mind and you turned on the sink, splashing water in your face. People were going to die and did you really think you could do this? 

You needed to get out of there. 

You flushed the toilet and stepped out of the bathroom and walked back into Eddie’s room. He was fidgeting with a guitar pick between his fingers and he looked up at you. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, standing up from his bed. “You look kind of...”

You were sure you looked like shit, shaken up and feeling clammy. 

“Y-yeah.” you said, trying not to bolt out of the trailer like a mad person. “Sorry, I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home.”

“Totally, I get it. I’ll drive you home.” Eddie said, and the genuine worry in his voice made you want to cry. 

“No...!” The word came out more desperate than intended. You could not let him know where you were staying right now. “I- I think I need the fresh air. I don’t live far from here.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Eddie protested, and your brain scrambled to think of any good excuse for what to do next. “I’m gonna be honest, you look like shit.”

“Can you drop me off at Dustin’s place?” you asked, grabbing onto the first name in your head. 

“Dustin... Henderson?” Eddie asked. “Why?”

Why? Because you couldn’t let Eddie know that you were squatting in Benny’s. Because you couldn’t tell him that on Friday and Saturday the old run down diner you were calling home was crawling with basketball players drinking and hungover. You couldn’t say that on those days you jumped between the Party’s homes to hide out and sleep. 

There was so much you couldn’t say and you hated every second of it. 

“His mom is a friend of my family.” You managed to say, hating the lie on your tongue. “And since my family isn’t around here...”

Eddie’s eyes were staring hard into yours, searching for something. If he found what he was looking for, he didn’t say so and just nodded. “Yeah, I’ll drop you off at Henderson’s.”

You grabbed the cassettes on the bed and shoved them into your backpack, following him to his van. How had you managed to fuck up so bad? You hadn’t been there for a half hour and he was already needing to drop you off somewhere else like a kid getting sick at a sleepover. 

The drive to Dustin’s was awkward, Eddie had the music turned on again but at a much lower volume as the two of you drove in silence. You stared out the window, counting street signs and focused on your breathing. 

What a mess of tonight you’d made. 

Eddie’s driving wasn’t as mad as it had been earlier and when he pulled up to Dustin’s home which you were thankful for. 

“You sure you're gonna be okay?” Eddie asked, looking you over. “Need me to, I don't know, walk you to the door?”

You shook your head, not needing him to do anything more than he already has. Besides, you were planning on walking to the back of the house and sitting in the shed to give yourself some alone time. 

“I'll be okay.” You said, sounding far more confident than you felt. “Thanks for the ride... And the tapes... And the weed.” You gave him an awkward smile which he managed to return. 

“Yeah, any time.” He said and you got out of the car and headed towards the garage to be out of sight, only emerging outside again when you heard the van pull away. 

You made your way to the back yard and changed your mind, moving into the basement instead. 

It was going to be a long night as you processed the reality you were living. 

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