#I haven’t been feeling well today but this is a headcanon I had for a while

[frodopotter7]

The memories of Edwin Payne

(Or an interactive fanfiction)

Note: I had the headcanon that Edwin‘s notebook contains all his personal writing including the writings from his life as an Edwardian boy. So I wrote those entries in his notebook. Now this book is obviously all of Edwin‘s personal thoughts and I thought it would be fun to do a collaboration. So if you are a writer yourself or creative in any other way, feel free to use this entries as a starting point for another fanfiction. For example Charles finding the notebook and reading it or Crystal reading it or anything else. The only rule that I set is that you clearly mark my text and tag me, because first of all it was a lot of effort to write it and secondly I want to see what cool things you came up with. And if you don’t want to creatively interact with this fanfiction, then you can obviously just enjoy it by reading it.

Summary: Edwin Payne‘s most treasured item is his notebook, because it contains so much private information that no one else knows about him. Not even Charles. Including the struggles of a posh, gay, autistic Edwardian boy and his times before hell, in hell and shortly after hell.

Triggers: bullying, implied suicide, dolls

Shipping: Payneland, but you could also include other shipping in your part

The song that I thought of while writing:

One of Edwin’s most treasured objects was definitely his notebook. He had it all the time and he used it for every case they had. It meant a lot to him, since it was with him when he died. It was with him in hell and it was with him in his detective career. The reason why he never gave it to anyone, not even Charles, was that it had been with him even as a child. Well, back then he had several notebooks, but as he died every personal writing of his got transferred into it. The notebook always had enough pages and was still not getting thicker and his pen was always full of ink. And still even though it contained so many different notes, Edwin navigated through it without any problems. It was his own writing after all. His family sigil was carved into the black front cover and the word ‘Payne’ was written underneath it.

If anyone would open it and tried to start from the beginning, he would be greeted with Edwin’s signature under the printed words. ‘Family member:’ After that the handwriting would be harder to read. Scribbly, crossed out spelling mistakes and spilled ink from a little boy, who was writing for the first time. If you manage to identify the words it would read:

1905

Greetings,

my name is Edwin Payne. I am the only child of the family Payne. My father says, that mother wanted more children, but just failed every other time. You probably have heard about my family’s name. The family with the best lawyers of England. When I’m grown up, I will be a lawyer too. Lawyers are like detectives says my father. I like that. I like detectives.

My nanny told me to interact more with others. Why would I need to talk if there is no one to talk to anyways? My parents are often absent and my nanny is just not understanding me. My father says that I am too slow for my age. My motion skills too clumsy. My spoken words only contain information from detective books and I cannot properly respond to people yet. I know a lot of novels by heart though. Others just don’t seem to like talking about crimes as much as I do. Father sometimes lets me have a look in his older cases. They are interesting.

We visited a doctor again today, because of my slow development. We visit him quite often. Actually since I can remember. I don’t feel sick. He says there is nothing wrong with me. Still I know that something is wrong. I overreacted at loud noises. A lot of things stress me out.

1906

I haven’t writing about Cordelia Primrose Surname-von-Hovercraft. She is annoying, loud and a restless soul. She runs around the house and breaks rules just to get the attention. She is a bit younger than me, but that doesn’t justify her actions. I don’t like her. Although sometimes she be helpful. Like the time she stole the biscuit jar and gave me one of the special biscuits. They had to expel one of her nannies for this. But Cordelia had plenty nannies anyways. No one stays long with her. I had my nanny since I was born. I don’t like changes. Cordelia sometimes scares me with ghost stories. She says she would see them and that my fortune says that I will die a painful and early death. I don’t believe in this unscientific nonsense.

I take piano lessons now. It’s is fun. My mother seems to enjoy it. It is somehow the only way to get her attention for me.

Additionally to my regular private lessons I go to school now. Simon obviously needs to be in my class as well. I don’t like him. He bores me and he is too clingy. And sometimes he says mean things to me.

I had an outburst in class. Everything was just so loud and I was frustrated. The teacher hit my finger with the ruler and send me in the naughty corner. I don’t see why I get punished, when the other boys are clearly the distraction. Overall I am a good student. So it will probably not affect my grades.

My favorite subject is Latin and literature. I love books and translating old languages. It is like solving a code or a riddle. I don’t like maths, since it is all just numbers and no words.

1907

I had another outburst in class after Simon tried to touch me. He kept tapping my arm and I don’t like that. The teacher called a nurse, but I was too overwhelmed to respond to any of her questions to my health. I wanted to go home and I told her that again and again, but she didn’t understand. They called a priest. He said something in Latin. I think, it must have been biblical words. I tried to focus on translating them, but there was so much panic around me that I barely focused on anything. But I managed to calm myself after what felt like hours due to exhaustion.

My parents had a talk with the priest. He says that I am possessed by a demon. So now he straps me to a table and mumbled something in Latin again and again once a month or whatever I have an outburst. The robes around my wrist hurt. I am afraid. It is scary to know that there is something inside of me.

1908

I hate being possessed. Although I start to doubt that I have been in the first place. I did some research in the library and the real demonology books aren’t describing my symptoms. Even Cordelia, who usually always tells spooky stories, agrees with me. She said, if I was possessed she would have been the first one to know. She is a mystery to me.

1909

Today I saw a nice looking man across the street. I told my nanny that he looks like a basket full of oranges. My father uses that term a lot when he talks about young women, so I thought it is just a term to use if you think someone looks nice. She gasped and hit me lightly with the newspaper. It didn’t hurt but I didn’t understand what I was doing wrong. She told me that a man cannot say that to another man. I guess the saying is reserved for women then.

1910

I started to mask my uncomfortable feelings in public. It is difficult, but it helps. My parents and the priest both think that I am healed.

1911

I got called a Mary Ann for the first time. I asked my nanny and she started to mumble to herself how she must have failed. I told her that she did a really great job, since I would consider myself very well behaved and educated. She ignored me and told me to not tell my parents. How should I tell them if they are never there in the first place?

I did some research again, which mainly was asking Simon. I know, getting down on his level is a hard sacrifice. He told me that a Mary Ann is a boy who behaves like a girl and isn’t manly enough so they love other men. I thought about that for a long time. What is it about me that makes me a Mary Ann?

The writing in the book started to get better and appeared way more elegant. You could find little drawings here and there. Edwin was quite a good and realistic artist. Drawings of flowers, buildings, his nanny, his mother or Sherlock Holmes.

1912

Mother is constantly coughing loudly. It is irritating. Not even cocaine will help. They don’t let me in her room. They fear I would catch it too. Not that I was ever close to her before.

Mother is in a special hospital now. She took the train far away in a hospital in the mountains. No one ever returns from there. I know it. Everyone does. I will not see her again.

Mother died of tuberculosis. I miss her, I guess. I don’t know what I miss. It is a change. I hate changes.

1913

Father is sending me to a boarding school for boys. He says it’s for my education. I know, he just wants to get ride of me.

I hate the new school. Simon is here and people are still calling me a Mary Ann. Simon started to join them. I guess he sees it as a new opportunity to mock me.

I take fencing lessons now. It is nice, since it is not required any sort of touch with other boys. Nothing that I can be blamed for.

1914

I found a hideout in the school attic. It is a great place to read in peace.

The world has started a war. It worries me. They tell us that we are save in the school. But in the end all you can do is pray.

I came back home on Christmas. My nanny was gone. Father said they would be no need for her any longer, since I am in school now anyway. He looked like he knew something, but wasn’t going to tell me.

1915

The next page had some blood drops on its pages.

I want to go home. I want to be back in my room with my detective books. I want to be healed from this darkness inside of me. My nose is bleeding from another attack by the other boys. They started to get more violent now. Simon isn’t joining them, but he watches.

I came home on Christmas, but it wasn’t my home anymore. Just a house. My father didn’t speak a word. I asked him, if it was about the war and he looked up towards me. I could feel his cold gaze from across the table. He took out a letter and slammed it on the table. It was from my headteacher. I was confused. I am class best and the best behaved student in class? The only reason why I get to stand in the naughty corner is if I got caught reading in my comics or books. In my defense I am usually already finished with the exercises if I read in class. What could possibly be a problem with me? The letter was about the other boys calling me Mary Ann. And that they didn’t wanted a boy like that in their school. That I should stop whatever was wrong with me. My father told me in his absent voice, that he was not having a son like that either. He had exchanged letters with the headmaster for quite some time now and I didn’t seem to get better. I asked him that I had no idea. He interrupted me as always. Told me that the only way to make me a man would be to send me to war. I started to cry and he continued holding a speech about heroism and that his generation had understood this so much better than mine. I am too young for war, he knows that too. He told me that the only thing rescuing my life is my good grades. He sees potential in me as a lawyer. He has talked to the Surnames-von-Hovercrafts they agreed that I should marry their daughter as soon as possible. I mean I knew that I would be married to Cordelia one day, but not already when I turn 16. That’s only some months away.

As the train brought me back to the boarding school and as I saw my father standing in the doorway of the house with his usual expressionless face, I knew that this was the last time I would see him and that he wished to rather have no son than me. I just knew it.

1916

Simon stole my hat. I wouldn’t mention this minor form of his bullying, if it hadn’t been a special hat. My mother and I bought it, when her disease hadn’t been noticeable. It was too large back then, but it suits me now. Or rather suited. I don’t think I will see it again as Simon comes up with the best ways to either destroy or hide it. I cried about it. Childhood is over, but honestly I don’t think it ever started in the first place at least not for me.

The numbness is spreading inside my body. I think about the military and the forced marriage daily. I am too young for this. I cannot even properly cope in a classroom. How am I supposed to cope in the war? My hands are to soft. My brain is too precious. Please, spear me. They won’t. It is just a question of time.

I went to the lake today. It is spring and still fairly cold, but I went inside non the less. It was cold. Ice cold. I went under water and yelled out some poetic nonsense. I thought about staying under water. Turning into Ophelia. But I reminded myself, that this is something a coward would do. A Mary Ann. I would proof everyone’s suspicions as correct. Scared to live. Scared to die. I got out of the water. My gaze landed on my clothes and the letter. My father had written me that the marriage would be held in some days, since I am 16 now. I ripped the paper in half and tossed it into the ocean. Letting the water destroy the writing on the paper. Of course this would make nothing undone. I would still need to marry. I would still need to go into the military. I would still need to die. I am frightened. The other boys seem unbothered. They laugh and play like the world isn’t ending around us. Well, their world is probably not ending anyways. They will live. Their parents are rich after all. They have the privilege. I would have had this privilege as well, but they took it from me by putting this name on me. I took it from myself with my impure thoughts.

Cordelia sent me a telegram that just read that I would need to be careful as death was approaching me in the worst way. I hate her for that. As if I wouldn’t know that. As if I wouldn’t know that I needed to go into the army soon. Not a single word about our forced wedding. I thought we had always agreed to both be against it. But then again she isn’t even trying to love me. Not that I would try. Not anymore. I tried when I was younger, because I was told to. But Cordelia has just no idea how to react appropriately to a gentleman. Her behavior makes it hard to believe that she is from such a high rank.

I saw Simon with a weird book today. He told me it is from his brother and that it is about demons. I told him that this was total nonsense and that he should get a grip on reality. He didn’t spoke to me again after that. Weird for someone who is as annoying as him. I am going to put my notebook in the pocket of my sleeping clothes tonight just to make sure Simon cannot steal it. I have a bad feeling in my stomach. My heart is aching for absolutely no reasons. I am afraid as I try to sleep tonight and the worst thing is that it is irrational. I am going to die alone, this is all my head produces right now.

?

Now every page was covered with blood at the side of the pages and sometimes even on the writing itself. There were no drawings to be found anymore. Just drawings for the escape plan and hierarchy of hell.

I don’t know if my dates are correct. I don’t know how time works in here. I don’t even know how long I am able to write without this thing waking up. This thing with the many doll heads. This spider like creature that kills me every time I move or make a sound. I sometimes wonder what happened to the other boys.

I try to change my perspective. It is hard when you are in so much pain. My brain learned to be sharper now. I can think and act quicker. I need to see this as one of my old detective games or as the times that I had to run away from my bullies. Everything is achievable with logic. Although I would say after being in hell for such a long time that might be a delusional optimism.

1988

I think I made it out fairly well. I am still uncontrollably shaky when I hear any noises. I fear that this demon might comeback to get me. I am back in the old school attic where they strapped me down on the table and sacrificed me. I learned a lot from hell and from the books in the attic. Like the basic ghost rules or that my death and the death of my bullies were labeled an act of god. I compared hell to the war a lot. After all I would say that hell was definitely the worse death. Much longer torture than war would have been. In the war you die just one death after all. But maybe a Mary Ann like me would have ended up there anyway.

I finally was brave enough to get out of the attic. I figured out that the year is 1988 from a newspaper that one of the teachers was reading. 72 years of torture. I wonder how often I was torn apart in this time. But I shouldn’t think about that. That reminds me of the pain and of the times when I tried to count my own corpses. The school hasn’t changed a lot. The teachers are less violent, but still rather strict. They have more lower class people here now. I can see it by the ways they behave and by the clothes they wear. That is especially confusing for me. So rude, so explicit, so freely. It is not a boarding school anymore. Luckily that gives me the freedom to have my peace after dark.

I started to watch a specific boy. I am not a stalker. At least I wouldn’t use this therm for a ghost. He is just interesting for my scientific research about this time. The boy has a darker skin. Some children in this school have this skin and get picked on, but somehow he isn’t the one who gets pick on. He wears very interesting clothes. Especially the golden earring. Something I would just see a woman wear, but it fits him so much better than it could ever fit a woman. His clothing is mostly black, though I would say that the red shirt he once worn fits him best. His lips have always a smile on them and he cracks loud jokes. But I see the sadness in his eyes. I recognize my own sadness in his eyes. His name is Charles Rowland. I heard the teacher yell it at him. A little trouble maker in class. He seems to never be able to focus. Maybe he is also possessed like I was when I was a young boy. But after experiencing hell, I doubt that the priest back then had any idea what a demon was really like.

The following page is filled with a very realistic drawing of Charles, who is smiling so iconically and his eyes seem to be filled with emptiness and some smaller doodles of Charles playing Cricket or talking to others.

Charles Rowland. His name repeats itself in my brain. I am not obsessive. He is just the best way of distraction I can find in this school. Distraction from the fear of hell. The fear of death coming back for me. Analysis and observation keep me away from those horrible thoughts. I have less panicle outbursts since I started my observation of this boy. Although when I am alone at night in the school attic I often start to cry in silence and my breathing races again.

Charlie. That is what his friends call him. It doesn’t suit him. Charles is his name. Not Charlie. I don’t like his friends. They are rude. They remind me of the boys in my old life. I wonder why I like Charles then. Maybe because he points out obvious misbehavior of the group even if they mock him.

The most interesting time is when Charles thinks that he is alone. That is mostly in the dressing room, when he gets ready for Cricket. As a short notion he is a fabulous cricket player, but he always waits till the other boys have changed and are out of the room. He pretends to struggle with his shoes or shorts. Even if that sometimes means that it is getting really dark outside. His smiles fades completely then. I saw the scars on his body. I feel bad for even looking at him in that state. Seeing a boy my age without a shirt is clearly inappropriate and it triggers the Mary Ann inside of me, but sometimes my detective senses is taking over too much. Especially after I saw all the scars and bruises. You don’t need to be that clever to understand that his family probably his father beats him. Although beating may be a too mild verb for those scars. I appreciate the absence of my father when I see him. My father and teachers used to beat me as well. With a ruler or the flat hand though not as much as my classmates. And after being through hell, that all seems like nothing in comparison. But even in my time no father would have mistreated their sons like that. I speak from a higher class, maybe it had been different in the lower class, but they were happy if their sons made it through childhood without a disease or scars so they could work properly. Although maybe they did this with the child workers. Is Charles secretly a child worker? Is there still child labour? Why would someone bruise their son like that if their son could provide a great income for the family? Or how many things was Charles doing something seriously wrong?

1989

His friends talked about me last night. They had cricket practice until the sun had settled and on the way back home I heard them talking about a school ghost. The janitor must have heard my weeping last night. My hysteria yesterday was indeed a lot. Too much to handle for myself. I think I was shaking till dawn. This vivid fear must have crossed over into the living world. They told Charles, that this had scared the janitor and he quitted. Then they told him of Mary Ann who was sacrificed 1916 and killed all the boys that night. Charles questioned this logically, since it was an all boys school, so there probably was never a girl. I certainly appreciate his thinking, but this just triggered a lot in me. Being called a Mary Ann even after all this years. Being remembered only as a Mary Ann. Being blamed as the murderer. Those boys clearly had no idea of what the term Mary Ann actually meant, but it just triggered me so badly that I started to panic again. My panic must have bursted through the worlds again, because the boys suddenly turned white and ran home. Charles stayed a little longer. Looking in my direction. I know he couldn’t see me, but maybe he could sense my panic more than the other boys could. Again we are much a like if you observe closely. After this strange second of him just starting into nothing and me starting back, he ran away as well.

I need to leave this place. But I am too scared. Too scared of the outside world. Too scared of the changes.

I wanted to leave today, be brave enough. But I heard Charles ‘friends’ talking bad about him behind his back. How weird he behaved. They had no idea about his scars. Then again if I would be his friend, which is rather unlikely, I wouldn’t confront him. I know how horrible I panic if someone says the word Mary Ann, I imagine that it is a similar situation for him with his scars. I stayed. I don’t know why. Again irrational fears.

I wish I would have left. I saw Charles defending a boy who got bullied by his so called friends. I felt tears in my eyes, because this was the kind of protection I had wished for when I was alive. I definitely feel too many emotions at the moment or maybe it just feels like more emotions because I was mostly numb in hell. The younger boy could escape with only a few bruises, but his friends still were in this blood lust. In this moment of still wanting the fun even though there was nothing funny about the action in the first place. I have seen those faces before. The faces of murders who only realize their actions when it is too late. They stoned him in the cold water. The water of the lake in which I once thought about killing myself a long time ago. I wanted to help. I wanted to stop them, but I had no idea what I could do. I am too new in this ghostly body. I tried desperately, but I ended up only pausing them by holding them back for a short time. It gave Charles time to ran away to the school building. He hid in the attic. I wanted to help him. The least I could do was by giving him a light. He was in a state where a floating light probably was his least problem. It turned out that he could see me and that was the moment I knew it was too late for him anyway. It was a strange sensation to properly speak again. I had never spoken in hell and in my ghost form I had only weeped. Hearing my own voice was odd. I was shortly surprised that I still knew how to use my voice. Reading to him from one of my old comics in the attic calmed him and gave me the opportunity to adapt a bit to talking for a longer period of time. He stayed with me, which honestly stresses me out a lot. I am not made to be a friend. I have been isolated for too long to be a good friend. I have been in hell for so long that I am probably a horrible person myself. I haven’t talked in so long. I am just adapting to just have conversations, how should I teach him to be a ghost, if I haven’t figured it out myself? Even if that all would not be the case and even if we would not be from different times, still I never have been good with other people. I never had friends. The only person a bit close to me was Cordelia and she was always more a sister for me. And still he chooses a stranger his own afterlife. From my observations I would blame his intentional behavior. He sees something and does something without thinking long. Although this decision might be too big for only this explanation.

I really can’t understand why Charles is choosing me over his afterlife. I just read to him once and gave him a lantern. He barely knows me and now he follows me everywhere. I showed him some ghost tricks and somehow I can really impress him by everything I say or do. But he made me smile for the first time in my life. So I am impressed by him as well. Whenever I read in this book, I just tell him that I like to keep record of things. That I would plan were we can go next as we no longer can stay in the school and waking around without plan is never good for too long. It is partly a lie I really am making a plan. But I do this in my head rather than writing it down, but it is an excuse for not letting him see my private writing. I tell him that it is rather boring planning and he believes me. I feel bad for lying to him, but if he would know about my past he surely would leave me and I would be all alone again.

We mirror traveled together to London. Charles felt a bit sick after it. He seems to still need to adapt to his ghost body. I was a bit overwhelmed with his sudden mood shift. I have been too selfish all my life and in my death so much that I don’t know how to help. He didn’t notice or he just didn’t say anything. But we had to mirror travel, it was too dangerous in the school after Charles died. Besides Charles is a talented and athletic boy, he will get the grip of it. In addition death could have caught me in the attic. I didn’t tell him why I am on the run. Not yet. I fear that once I tell him that I was in hell, he will think I am evil. Maybe that is true. Maybe I am just doomed. I feel like it was my fault that he died. I watched him so long with this incorrect feelings of mine. Maybe this cursed him like in a Greek tragedy. For now I just want to make sure that Charles is not alone. I had been alone for too long to know how dreadful it can get and he is much more social than I am.

We visited his family in London. A real rural area. His mother was crying over the loss of her son. His father just seemed to see it as a natural thing to happen to those who aren’t careful enough. I made a mental note to haunt this man every year to Charles’ death day without telling Charles. The school, once again, swept the problem under the carpet and made it appear like an accident. How can someone possibly stone himself while being in the water and then run in an attic? No clever detective would see that as the solution. I said that out loud and it turned out that Charles and I both share a passion for detective stories. That was something to make him smile. But he started to cry again as he saw how desperate his mother and sister were. He hugged me, which was a lot. I never have been hugged before and at first it felt like this demon from hell was gripping around me again. I froze in place and pushed him away in a reflex. Charles stopped. I didn’t tell him about the hell part, but I told him that I am not used to hugs and touches in general. He took it in surprisingly well, but for his own sake I added that I might could get used to it. I hope that I am able to get used to it. Charles sees it as something that he can teach me.

It was just a matter of time till my hell trauma wouldn’t be able to keep hidden anymore. We were in an abandoned apartment, since we both are not staying out the whole night. We don’t have to sleep but it is just too awkward. He usually talks through the whole night and I like his voice even with his weird way of talking. He likes me reading to him. He even carries all my books for me. But as we explored the abandoned house, I discovered an old doll. I overreacted I know. But there was just so much panic inside of me all of the sudden. My fight or flight mood was activated again. I don’t know what Charles did. I don’t know how he managed to stop me from repeating the word ‘Please spare me. I don’t belong in hell.’ I vaguely remember his hands securely holding my head and his shining dark eyes and his calm voice, but I don’t remember his words. He was confused by my sudden changed behavior, but he tried to not show that whole calming me. Once he had calmed me, I obviously had to tell him the truth. I gave him the opportunity to leave me again, but he stayed and he understood, said that this is probably the worst thing someone could have been through. We didn’t speak the rest of the night, but we continued the next day as if nothing had happened.

It is harder to continue my writing as Charles could find out and I don’t want him to know about this. He is so lively. He is jumping and sprinting around, while telling me things and just appears from behind. I cannot risk that. We have a detective agency now. We don’t want that others have their deaths so badly twisted as ours. Another reason was that he had introduced me to a game called Clue, which is basically a detective game, and then we both came up with the idea of starting our own detective agency. He is the brawn and I am the brain. It fits perfectly. We even managed to get a abandoned flat in London. I probably have no time to continue this memoirs, but I will make sure to use my notebook as a case lock book from now own.

I will never tell him about the real meaning of the word Mary Ann. I will never tell him that I had been in the school for a whole year and not just shortly before his death. I will never tell him that I have watched and observed him. I appreciate him now too much. I don’t ever want to lose him.

After that only a whole lot of cases and notes and questions on them followed.

[joedirtymadre]

Your First Fight

Headcanon 🫶 (Pls send more requests)

LUFFY + ZORO + SANJI + LAW + ACE + SABO

LUFFY

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me,” he said as he watched you pace around the room. “Are you serious? I asked you to stay behind on the ship, because you know this island is known to be a common Navy stop! All I needed was to grab some herbs and plants for the garden and who do I see rocketing into the middle of the plaza?” You asked, knowing damn well who it was. “Me…” he replied softly. “Exactly! I asked you to stay behind and watch the ship with the others! Why can’t you do the simplest of tasks?” You yelled. “So what if I left? I got bored, and why are you trying to tell me what to do?! If you want me to remind you, I’m your captain! You listen to me!” He yelled back.

“Well it obviously doesn’t look like it, since you were hurling at max speed into a Navy base island without a care in the world! Grow up! I asked you to stay behind because we had others who needed to stock up on supplies, which means you had to stay behind and make sure we’re not discovered or the ship isn’t hijacked!” You yelled. “We would have been fine! We always escape, so why are you so mad at me?” He asked. “Just because it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it won’t. Plus I asked you to do something and you just ignored it,” You replied. “Well if you want to boss people around so much, go find your own ship. Maybe you’ll be a better captain,” he said coldly as he walked out of the bedroom.

ZORO

“Hey stop!” You called out to your boyfriend. You were both currently lost… or he was lost, you knew where to go, but Zoro wasn’t listening. “Zoro, I told you a billion times that the ship is the other way,” you said. “I know where it is! You don’t need to babysit me, I’m not a little kid,” he sighed. “I’m not trying to,” you said. “Well it feels like it… like I can’t take a break,” he grumbled. “Ok… but why are you so upset? I’m just giving you dire-“ he cut you off. “Because you’re always doing this!” He shouted as he stopped and looked at you.

“Huh?” You asked. “You’re always… suffocating me. I can never have a moment to myself, ever since we started dating. It’s like you’re a leech and I can never get rid of you for 5 seconds,” he groaned. “Oh…” your voice cracked. “I didn’t m-mean…” you trailed off. “Wait… (Y/N), I didn’t mean all that. I’m just-“ you cut him off. “No… it’s fine, I understand… You just want some space…I’ll head back to the ship, I’ll see you there,” you said as you turned on your heels and ran towards the ship. “(Y/N)!” You heard as you continued to run off.

SANJI

You slowly approached your boyfriend, excited to help him with whatever he needs. “Hey!” You smiled. “Hi beautiful, how are you?” He smiled back. “I’m great, so what are we making today?” You asked. “Nami-swan asked if I could make her some fruit tarts so I’ll be preparing that for her,” he smiled. “Mind if I help? If you finish quickly we can go-“ he cut you off. “Sorry (Y/N), but I’d hate for this to be messed up. It’s better if I do it alone,” he explained.

“Oh… but I normally help you in the kitchen, why can’t I help you with this one?” You asked, confused. “To make sure it’s perfect for my Nami-swan! Plus, you still haven’t mastered certain techniques, and I’d hate for this treat to not be perfect for my beloved Nami,” he swooned. “Seriously?” You huffed. “I didn’t mean to offend you my love, I was just answering your question,” he replied as he began preparing the dessert. “Ok fine, I’ll get out of your way. Maybe your beloved Nami will come help you out in the future,” you said coldly and began walking out of the kitchen. “(Y/N)! Hey! Wait!” He called out, but you continued to your bedroom.

LAW

“(Y/N) you’ve been at that for the past 6 hours, it’s time to take a break,” Law said as he watched you continue to try to fix the electrical issue that’s been causing problems with the motor. “But I can’t just stop now… what if the motor stops when we’re trying to escape from someone?” You asked, feeling frustrated by the uncooperative wires. “Come on, maybe you need some fresh air. We’ve been ducked at this island for a whole day and you haven’t even looked outside to see it,” he sighed. “Well I’m sorry that I’m trying to fix your ship!” You huffed. “That’s fine, but you need a break,” he said.

“Well I don’t want a break, what I want to do is fix this stupid thing!” You groaned. “And I really don’t need someone breathing down my neck when I’m trying to do something!” You added. “I’m just trying to look out for you, but if you’re gonna act like this then I’m leaving,” he said softly and headed towards the exit. “Good, maybe I’ll finally be able to fix this,” you glared as he walked out.

ACE

“Come on babe, are you really still mad at me?” Ace asked as he followed you to your bedroom. “What makes you think that?” You asked as you tried to shut the door in his face, but he quickly stopped it and stepped in. “That’s why,” he frowned. “Just making sure to close the door behind me,” you said as you gave a tight smile. “Come on, what’s the big deal? I’m sorry I left without telling you,” he said as he tried to hold you. “You just don’t understand,” you huffed as you brushed off his embrace. “Then tell me,” he said as he sat on your bed.

“What if you died?” You said bluntly. “Well… that’s being optimistic…” Ace said awkwardly. “I’m serious, what if you died? You really left without me knowing, and sure you made it back safe, but what if next time you’re not so lucky? And I end up finding out my boyfriend died in the middle of the sea, and I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you said softly. “Ok, ok… well I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left. Even though you know I’ll always be safe. So, forgive me now?” He smiled. “No, because you’re not taking me seriously!” You groaned. “Why are you still mad at me? I said, " I'm sorry, don’t worry so much!” He yelled back. “I worry because I love you, but if you’re so dense, then just get out! I don’t know why I even put up with you. When it obviously shows how little you care about my feelings!” You shouted as you pushed Ace out of your room. “Wait, (Y/N) I’m sorry! Let’s keep-“ but you cut his words off with the door.

SABO

“Sabo~” you cooed. “Yes (Y/N)?” He replied. “I’m bored, can you please put the book down for a second and let’s go walk around the island or grab something to eat?” You asked hopefully. “Not today, plus you know we’re not supposed to be venturing out when he has to be on duty,” he explained. “I know, but we both get and hour break from standing guard and you’ve been spending each break reading. Can’t we do something, the two of us? Together?” You added. “Why? We’re spending time together right now,” he rolled his eyes.

Your eyes fell to the floor, “Alright,” you said softly as you headed back to the base. “What’s wrong?” Sabo called out. “Nothing, just gonna head inside,” you replied. You heard footsteps behind you, “What’s wrong? Tell me,” he said as he grabbed your arm. “Sabo we’ve been here for 2 weeks and you don’t want to do any normal couple stuff with me? Not even for an hour?” You asked. “(Y/N) you know-“ you cut him off. “Yeah I know, I also know how hard it is to have a relationship in our positions, but that didn't stop you from asking me out… Plus… I’ve seen you go out with Koala on a few occasions, you didn’t seem to have an issue with the rules then,” you glared. He quickly released your arm. “Hold on, you’re misunderstanding that (Y/N). You know Koala and I-“ you cut him off once again. “I know, but it doesn't mean you’re off having fun with another girl. While your real girlfriend is stuck here watching you read a book,” you said softly before turning on your heels and heading back towards the base.

[reverie-starlight]

lucifer in love

in which the avatar of pride tries and fails to get you out of bed

gn!MC, no physical descriptions. fluff. fluff. fluff. lucifer is scared but it’s okay, he’s just not used to being in love yet, he’ll get there, he swears it. pet names (including little lamb once bc it’s canon). he’s literally so in love.

this has no bearing on the fic, but in my mind this is OG game a few months into your relationship, not NB setting. also I sprinkle in some of my own lore headcanons here.

lucifer was not a morning demon.

everyone in the house of lamentation knew it. his brothers would normally steer clear of him until breakfast (aside from the days that satan and belphie were feeling particularly confident), even diavolo and barbatos knew better than to start drowning him with work before a certain time of day.

coincidentally, you weren’t exactly built for mornings, either.

but still, lucifer had incredible resolve and far more years of discipline built up within him than you did. which obviously made the mornings you’d wake up in his bed difficult for both of you.

“my love, it’s time to wake up,” he leaned over your sleeping body placed a hand on your shoulder. he was already fully dressed and (somewhat) ready to brave the early morning hours. he wanted to let you sleep in as long as possible, and it pained him to rouse you from such serenity, but he also knew you’d miss breakfast if he let you rest any longer. and then you’d really be cranky.

his lips formed a small yet genuine, fond smile when he heard you grumbling. “nooo, just a bit longer…” your voice was muffled by his sheets, and you tried to turn away from him.

“little lamb…” he warned, but there was no real bite behind it and you knew it. lucifer knew well that you were as stubborn as he was, so it wasn’t surprising to him in the slightest when you kept pleading with him.

“pleaseee lucifer, come lay with me for a bit longer. I want you near me.”

he sighed. he dared not show any signs of how tempted he was by you. the irony of a human being the one to tempt a demon.

but he did not waiver. “MC, you’ll be late if you stay in bed any longer.”

“so what?” you whined indignantly. “I haven’t been late or even missed a class in weeks- in fact you showed me just last night how deserving I was of a reward for good behaviour. let’s just play hooky today.”

he rolled his eyes slightly. of course you would use his excuse for getting you into his room last night against him to sleep in longer.

you turned to him, laying on your back and staring up at his unamused face with a still-sleepy grin of your own. “come on, baby, just lay with me. we don’t have to skip if you insist on going, but being a little late won’t hurt, you know?”

he blinked and tried to keep his composure. he still wasn’t quite used to being on the receiving end of pet names, and human ones at that, but you had been growing quite comfortable with throwing them at him lately.

this was the third time you had called him that in the past week, and he still wasn’t sure if he liked it or not… he’d need it to be tested a few more times before he could make a final decision.

He didn’t feel the need to test out terms of endearment- he knew what he was comfortable saying and calling you, and you never seemed to complain with him sticking with some of the more… classic? is that how you put it? names. with the exception of little lamb. obviously.

if he was being honest, though, he had been holding back. human world terms of endearment felt so lacklustre in comparison to those in infernal. he would never admit this, but he was… hesitant to use devildom terms of endearment on you.

often times they couldn’t be translated into any human language, nor could the feelings they spoke of be conveyed differently. the things that lucifer wanted to call you were akin to that of a declaration of complete devotion forever and always. even by demon standards they were intense, because they basically promised that even after death, there would be no one else.

his hesitation was not because he was unsure if he felt the emotions they conveyed for you. not at all, he knew his feelings and yours as well.

but you’ve thrown him for a loop. even if he was sure… he wanted to wait a bit before showing you just how deep his feelings ran. because the intensity of it all was something he had never felt for anyone in all his millennia. the fact that he had someone he could even toss around the idea of using those names on… those feelings were just for him to get comfortable with, so that when he was truly ready, he could pull it off without a hitch.

he wondered if lilith had felt for her human anywhere close to what he felt for you, sometimes, but he always buried that thought away as quickly as it popped into his mind.

blame it on his pride getting in the way, or call it what it was- fear of what being in love was doing to him and what it would continue to do to him. and what it meant he would be willing to do for you…

“uh, lucifer? my love? you’re staring off into space, is everything okay?”

your voice brought him out of his thoughts and the concern within it made him warm inside.

he was still leaning over you, hand gently gripping your shoulder, and your face was wrinkled with worry. he loved you.

until he had it all worked out, he’d show you as much as he could through human declarations of love and lots of action.

he looked down at his wrist as if to check a non-existent watch. “fine, I suppose there’s time to spare.”

he let the sound of your victorious laughter wash all over him and bathed in the feeling of your arms around his neck after he crawled over you to reach his side of the bed.

your smile was radiant, and he felt another piece of the armour encasing his heart chip away. he had been feeling that a lot since you first started the exchange program, but even more so since you both began your relationship.

there was no stopping this, he was falling headfirst into unknown territory for the second time in his life, for a completely different reason this time.

but he’d never ask for anything else. because just like the first time, he figured that this could only result in changing his life for the better as well.

once again he had to shake himself out of his thoughts. you were smiling and talking about one thing or another- he missed the start of the conversation- and playing with his tie.

lucifer was not a morning demon. he woke up exhausted, he dreaded the pile of work forever thrown at him. but his resolve was insanely strong.

maybe he’d give in to you more often if it meant he got to have you like this, in his arms, laughing at his ruined resolve and how weak he is for you, for the rest of your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

haha get it? rest of your life bc you’re mortal and he’s not?

anyway I hope you enjoyed!!

[yuff7e]

Hii! I have two ideas I don’t mind if only one is written: Could you write head-canons or like anything about Inosuke with a s/o whose love language is physical touch? Or could you write head-canons about Inosuke with an artist gf who maybee has a whole book with drawings of him 🤭🤭? Whatever is easiest tysm!!

⋆˙ inosuke with an artist s/o who loves physical touch !! ⟡♡ headcanons / fluff

gender neutral

omg hi anon !! and yes ofc i can :)) im making this whole thing gender neutral but i can do a separate fic of inosuke with an artist gf and he find out she’s been drawing him since the very start and how he reacts if you’d like ?? anywho, enjoy !! <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

- inosuke and you have a pretty stable relationship tbh

- considering the fact he’s a feral boar man

- since you two have been together, you haven’t noticed inosuke having any hobbies

- like at all besides screaming and challenging people (and sleeping…) (…aaannndddd eating)

- but hey! that’s fine! you have yours and inosuke has… his

- now anywho, you were waking up bright and early for another day of training

- when suddenly you didn’t feel the crushing weight of inosuke on you…

- (he always sleeps on you and waits until you wake up! but today he wasn’t… oh god.)

- “inosuke? inosuke!”

- he had been rummaging around in your things while you were asleep !!!

- you rush over to him and jump on top of him to hide what he might’ve saw

- he lets you take him down and looks at you

- he’s doing that weird gawking giddy thing he does whenever he’s happy

- you just stare back at him

- “what?”

- “WHAT IS THIS BOOK?!”

- he holds up a sketchbook, filled to the brim with drawings of him

- you FREAK OUT

- “inosuke!! this is private stuff!!”

- “so?”

- mans does NOT know privacy

- yalls relationship is a one way street for that matter and he sticks to it.

- so he is veerrryyy adamant about seeing the rest of what’s in that book

- finally, you give in and let him look at it

- he’s amazed by the cool illustrations and doodles you’ve made for him

- “these are me?!”

- “yeah…”

- *cue him flipping through them aggressively*

- “i want this one!”

- “inosuke you can’t just take them! well— i mean maybe you can but i don’t want you to!! i spent a long time drawing these—..”

- “i don’t care!”

- “okay. insouke— seriously..!!”

- once he starts ripping some of the pages you snatch the book

- he tries to fight you but realizes you’re being serious so he stops but is still agitated

- he wants them!!

- now, onto physical touch

- honestly i wouldn’t see him having a problem with it, it’d probably just stroke his ego more knowing he’s got a pretty partner like you by his side caressing his arm while he boasts about how he’s the “king of the mountains”

- a real “i’m on top of the world” moment fr

- but he did kind of freak out when you touched him for the first time

- you were walking through the butterfly mansion, on the way to see inosuke

- you two had planned a little first date type-thing

- (with the help from tanjiro and zenitsu..)

- but you were happy and couldn’t wait to go and see him!!

- once you got there he wasn’t dressed up, just in his casual attire

- no clothes..

- anyway, you walk up to him and touch his shoulder

- he turns around so fast screaming “WHO THE HELL JUST TOUCHED ME?!”

- realized it was you and just stared

- the skin to skin contact got him feeling some typa way

- and ever since then you’ve just been doing the same thing you always do

- “hey inosuke!” you giggle as you hug him and he just freezes

- if he’s in the middle of a screaming fit and you go over and wrap your arms around him he’ll stop IMMEDIATELY

- “er—!! hey!”

—

·˚ ༘ you’re outside training when you hear screaming coming from the inside of the butterfly mansion, and you weren’t too surprised that when you walked in your boyfriend was being quite the sore loser.

kanao had just beat him in one of the training games, and he wasn’t too happy about it. “she was cheating! she’s cheating! let’s do a rematch!! this time i’ll beat you!” we’re all the words you heard from him as he stomped his feet aggressively.

you sigh and look at kanao who’s just staring blankly at inosuke, “i guess we could have a rematch..” she squeaks, inosuke jumping right for her - and of course he loses, again.

he’s defeated, running back over to the side lines and throwing his whole body into the wall - banging his boar mask against it and throwing a few punches. you trot over to him, your arms extending until you fully fall into his side.

he stops what he’s doing and immediately goes to push you off, not realizing it’s you. until he notices your voice, “inosuke! stop screaming! you’ll have another rematch soon.”

he immediately grabs your arms to throw you off (which he could’ve easily done since you didn’t have your guard up) but he just complained while you were practically on top of him. saying things like - “hey! get your hands off of me! i have another match to win!” or “what’s the deal?! can’t you see i’m busy?!”

of course since he hasn’t pushed you off yet you know this is calming him down, and eventually it does. his anger subsides but only for a little bit, the match eventually redos and kanao gets a few good hits in until he wins.

instantly, he’s rushing over to you and tackling you to the ground!! “i did it! ya see that? i knew i could win!” he’s yowling and jumping around and you just smile at him fondly. “congrats inosuke! but i have to go back outside and finish my training—..”

before you could finish inosuke picks you up and twirls you around before setting you back down, patting your head. “alright! don’t be long. i want you to see me beat the rest of these people!” a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you giggle, a little out of breath.

“heh.. alright! i’ll be back.” you kiss his shoulder quickly before jogging away - causing him to freeze and someone catching him off guard and winning another match…

you didn’t hear the end of it later that night!! but it was all okay when you woke up for another day and inosuke was laying on you per usual, not rummaging through your things this time.

—

YAYA I FINISHED !! it’s not as serious as i honestly hoped for but im actually super proud of this i think this is really cute !! hope u enjoy <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Sore

Logan Howlett x Reader

Minors, do NOT interact.

A/N: More of my Wolvie because my creative side rests in him atm. Based on the fact that my back literally is brokeback mountain and my legs feel like I took that cowboy up on his offer for five hours after saving his horse atm 🤣 also, domestic smut is SO underrated.

Anyway, all interaction, especially commentary is heavily appreciated! Enjoy!

Cw: Logan’s helping you feel less sore, things get steamy. Fluffy and spicy, domestic!Logan.

P.S: Want more of Logan? Check out my headcanons and/or feel free to submit an ask for a Drabble or Ficlet. :> You want daddy dom Logan? I gotchu. You want Logan to watch, idk, Cars with you?? I gotchu. Just nothing too dark or too crazy, please. Anonymous or not, feel free to drop your thoughts/thots!

****************************************************

You had flopped down on the your big ass bed the moment you’d gotten home from the gym. For whatever reason you had thought it would be a good idea to overdo it both today and yesterday, and now your legs and back were suffering the consequences.

So here you are, lying face down, starfish style. You barely remembered to kick off your nasty shoes and socks. Haven’t showered, haven’t pulled the comforter down. Just lying there in your misery as the pain in your legs chooses to linger.

You had to have been lying there for about ten minutes when you’re finally ready to get up, but then you hear the door open.

“Y/N?” Logan calls, having just got home from work apparently. It’s about eight at night, this is very early for him.

“Bedroom,” you call back weakly.

You hear his light footsteps pattering towards you. If you hadn’t been together as long as you had you wouldn’t be able to hear him because of how stealth he is.

“Aw, sweets, what’s wrong?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“Sore,” you mumble, giving him another one word answer.

“Why?” he prods, in a somewhat lilting tone that implies he knows exactly why.

“Cause I overdid it,” you say begrudgingly. He was the one who warned you not to, and you could all but sense the smirk that had to be on his face right now. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to smother you,” you threaten as a follow up.

“Do it with that pretty cunt of yours and we’ll call it even.” Cheeky, as always. You groan in response, and not in a sexy way, even though his dirty words don’t fail to make your core feel a little warmer. “Alright alright. Can I try to make you feel better?”

“Please.” Your voice is slightly whiny as the ache in your legs is starting to get unbearably annoying.

“Aww, sugar,” he tuts, kissing you on the top of your head. “Just give me one second.”

He disappears momentarily, reappearing with some Advil and lemonade for you to drink it with. He sets the pair on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”

“Wait-“ you protest, before gasping ‘ow!’ as he uses his trying arms to hold you up, resting your back against your plush pillows and headboard. He sits in front of you, draping your calves over the tops of his thighs.

“Here,” he hands you the lemonade and Advil.

“Thanks. Wait- tell me about your day,” you prod, before swallowing the pill and the drink down.

“Oh, you really are sweet on your old man, ain’tcha,” he grins, flattening out the random wisps of hair that had escaped your updo. You smile sweetly at him, before downing the rest of the glass.

“Well, I went to stop some guy from stealing an old lady’s purse, but by the time I got over there she was smacking him over the head with it.”

“What in the Tom and Jerry?” you laugh incredulously.

“I swear it! In my too-many years I’ve never seen anything like that.” God, you could never grow tired of seeing Logan like this. Giggly, tired, relaxed. It’s so nice.

“It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I offer.

“Yeah, until Granny knocks it out of you,” he quips, and we both laugh. “So, where are you hurting?”

“My legs and my back. Shouldn’t have done the extra set of the one where you close your legs on the thing,” I tell him.

“What’re you wearing under this?” he asks, motioning to you. You’re wearing a sports tank and shorts, and underneath…

“Girl’s boxers and a sports bra.”

“Attagirl. Mind if I strip you down to those? Less layers makes it easier for me to dig into you.”

“You ask that as if you don’t fuck me almost every night,” you quip, the affirmation plain in your voice.

“And almost every morning and afternoon, but who’s counting?” he retorts with a mischievous grin. This is true- even after so many years of being together the two of you still can’t keep your hands off of each other.

“Don’t forget about evenings,” you add.

He gasps melodramatically, -“I could never.”-before tugging off your shorts. You sigh contentedly, glad to be free of your fabric confines. He then gently eases off your shirt so that, true to his word, you’re only in your undergarments.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you slowly move from your spot amidst the pillows, slowly but surely. The pain doesn’t get enough time to build as much as before, and just rests at the same throbbing as before. You hear Logan rummaging in the nightstand.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought I had bought more of that lavender oil, but I forgot,” he says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, your hands are more than enough already,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah?” Logan turns any words he can into a double entendre, it’s his sense of humor.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rabbit mutation,” you laugh, referring to his persistent and ever present horniness.

“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” he asks gruffly, still joking. You feel the bed dip from behind you under his weight.

“You are pretty cute,” you tell him.

“But a rabbit?” he asks, incredulousness in his voice.

“Mayb-ohh,” your words are broken off as his surprisingly gentle hands start kneading your calves.

“Ohh,” he imitates, pressing deeper. God it feels good- hurts on contact, but then completely alleviates the pressure.

“Shut up,” you try to say through your soft moans of pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a no, sugar,” you can hear the overconfidence in his voice, and it doesn’t even bother you because of how much better you’re feeling.

“Ow-,” you whisper as he presses on a particularly painful spot in the inside of your leg.

“That’s it, huh?”

You meekly hum in response as he takes initiative to continue pressing on it, digging into it with his thumbs.

Eventuakly he has you feeling like putty, all comfortable until…

“Oh, come on!” you say indignantly as he flips you over. You feel the dull pain in your legs ignite again, and you already know what he’s about to make you do.

“I know, but you know you need to stretch,” he chides, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well how inflexible you are, especially when you’re sore.

You stick your tongue at him to no avail. He grabs your thigh, squeezing it before beginning to push it back. The dull pain immediately intensifies.

“F-fuck you!” you squeak as he pushes your thigh back further, your knee nearing your shoulder. You clutch Pookie as tight as you can to your chest. The words are directed more to the pain than him, but he can’t help but tease you, naturally.

“Is that nice?” he chastises lightly, the smile plain on his lips as he holds you in place. You can feel your muscles screaming from the soreness, but the position does seem to be alleviating the pressure some.

“No,” you pout guiltily, not wanting to seem ungrateful to him.

“I’m kidding,” his voice softens as he presses my leg back further.

“Ow!” you whine, the additional pressure making your leg impossibly more sore.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he reassures me, massaging the back of my thigh as he holds it in place. He grabs the lone stuffed animal that rests amongst your too-many pillows and blankets. It’s an okapi, his name is Pookie. However, Logan calls him ‘Abomination,’ because the first time you showed him a picture of one that’s what he called it. You always get miffed about him calling it that, so he adamantly makes sure to do so, even though he’s the one that bought it for you on a whim. Go figure.

“How about you hold A-Bomb? Will that make you feel better?”

“It will if you call him by the right name,” you tell him, sass in your voice. He grins- for whatever reason he finds it extremely amusing to annoy you.

“But his name is Abomination,” Logan insists, momentarily distracting you from putting down your leg before picking up your more sore one.

“No it’s not,” you protest, before literally squeaking from how bad it hurts to have the other leg pushed back.

“Fine, it’s not,” he says gently, handing you the stuffed animal with his free hand as he keeps your leg pinned back. You squeeze it as he pushers further, holding it for what feels like fifteen years but in reality is probably all of fifteen seconds.

Slowly you start feeling better, that is until he drops your leg and grabs both this time.

“Logan, no, I’m already stretched out, I feel better-,” you try, but as always, he knows better. He lifts both legs up, and however much better you were feeling is immediately ruined because your lower back is being added to the equation.

“Ow!” you whine, trying to wriggle free from his grasp to no avail. Damn his super strength. Your back is all but shrieking at you now.

“I seem to recall you being able to do this,” Logan says smugly. And you immediately clench on nothing, because you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Well you’re not exactly dicking me down right now, are you?” Usually when your legs are over his shoulders like this it’s because he’s ploughing into you like it’s your last night on earth. And the memories are vivid- he always makes damn sure of that. The sweat on his brow, his filthy vocabulary….

Okay, you’re wet now.

“Dicking you down?” he laughs. “What are you, Wade?”

“Suddenly I’m not turned on anymore,” I roll my eyes. The Merc with a Mouth may just about exclusively talk about sex, but somehow it’s never sexy. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he still has the brain of a thirteen year old. Who knows.

“Mmm, let’s see about that,” he murmurs, tossing your stuffed animal to the side and dropping your legs down, to your relief. He tugs at your boxer shorts, looking you in the eye for consent. You nod, and he takes no time at all to slide them down your pretty legs. “Looks pretty turned on to me,” he says gravelly as he looks at your cunt.

“Mhm,” you agree, your voice wanton and low.

He knows exactly what you like, and neither of you is surprised by the shiver your elicits from you as he runs a knuckle through your slick folds.

One of the things about being with Logan is anything can be sexy, and by association, turn into sex. You don’t mind at all- you match his freak, if you will- but it is easy to marvel at how random it can be.

Some days it’s just your morning chatter- you’ll be talking about who knows what, maybe a movie you’ve seen, maybe your plans for the day. And then you’ll straddle him to get him to focus on you, because he’s always sleepy and slow in the morning. Before you know it he’ll have his hands on your hips, easing you up and down on his cock.

Other times it’ll be you two silently reading on the couch, legs crossed over one another because you can’t go a second without touching. Once one of you gets bored, it’s over for the other. If it’s he who gets bored but you’re still invested in your book, he’ll have you cockwarm him and finish your book. Sometimes it’s the other way around, but because you’re so needy you’ll usually be bouncing on him before he can finish and who is he not to do as you wish?

It’s always something. And one of those somethings apparently him helping you stretch,, which is a new one because usually you pass out after he contorts you like that.

After getting you ready for him, which really doesn’t take long since you’re almost always wet for him when you’re in his vicinity, he pulls down his sweats and his own boxers just enough to expose his dick.

But, because he’s Logan, and he’s annoying, he grabs the backs of your thighs with a mischievous grin, and before you even realize what he’s doing he presses both of your legs back. It really doesn’t hurt as bad, especially when he leans down to kiss you so passionately and all-consumingly that your mind clouds over.

“You ready f’me?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know that you are.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” you breathe. “Just go slow, please.”

“I promise, sweet girl,” he kisses you again, aligning himself with your entrance. “God, I love you,” he whispers as he watches himself slide into you with ease.

“I love you too,” tell him through a gasp, kissing his nose. “Please don’t make me more sore.” You have to reiterate that you want him to be slow, because while Logan is the sweetest, most considerate lover you could have, sometimes he can’t help but overdo it.

He laughs, not one to deny your imploring. “I’ve got you.” He bottoms out slowly, resting inside of you before pushing just a little bit more, hitting a spot that feels so good that it brings tears to your eyes. You’re so, so full of him, you can feel every twitch. This angle, painful as it may be, lets him get so wonderfully deep inside you. It’s a wonder you hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Oh, Logan,” you breathe, leaning into his touch as he kisses over your collarbone.

“Good, huh?” he says somewhat cockily, slowly pulling out of you before bottoming back out, hitting that impossible spot again. It feels so good that you can’t even think of something to say in response. “Thought so,” he smiles, kissing you on the nose. His voice has gonna somewhat breathy, but he still continues his steady, slow pace. The sounds that fill the room are gentle, with soft sighs and grunts and the occasional moan of one or the other’s name. And it’s perfect.

It feels so good that you feel tears slipping down your cheeks, and he leans down to kiss them away. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” His tone is soft, and it prompts you to further bury yourself in your fluffy comforter and pillows as he slowly coaxes a release out of me. He kisses you, slow but passionate as his fingers start to circle your clit in the way you like. The circles are much faster than his thrusts, and the sensation of the contrast in paces is absolutely delicious.

Logan loves having you like this- soft and sweet, in no rush. Your legs strewn haphazardly over his shoulders, squeezing him every time he nudges the head of his cock that extra inch inside of you. He loves to kiss you, to talk you through it. He loves you.

“You’re taking me so well, beautiful. You always do,” he coos, adding more pressure to your sensitive bud. You only whimper in response as your orgasm starts to build. He can feel it, hell, he can smell it. That sweet smell that’s so uniquely yours, that he’s so addicted to. “You gonna cum f’me? Make a mess all over this big dick?” he asks, knowing full well how much of a mess his dirty words make of you. You nod ever so slightly, you’re entire body on fire from how good it feels.

Your legs tighten around his head as you cum, and it’s perfect. The pleasure is immense, intense enough to make you close your eyes as he keeps his same pace, drawing it out longer than ever. “Logan?” you whisper once you catch your bearings.

“Yeah?” he asks, still moving slowly and hitting that perfect spot. His voice is slightly strained, you can tell he wants to cum.

“Cum in me, please,” you ask with your best doe eyes.

“Gladly, sugar,” he kisses you again, coming with just a few more thrusts as you clench around him as tightly as you can. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder and darkening what may as well be a permanent mark from him. He always bites in the same spot. He lets your legs down but stays inside you, panting as he holds you close. Eventually he pulls out, and you whine from the loss of contact, feeling your mixed releases slip out of you.

“You feeling better?” he asks, laying on his side as you do the same.

“Yeah. Thank you so much,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, gorgeous. I’ve heard that a good orgasm releases tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he hugs you close.

“Waiiiit I need to shower,” you complain, trying to push him away.

“In a minute,” he counters, nuzzling his face in your neck and squeezing you tighter.

That’s definitely the biggest lie he could have told you, because you both knew damn well it would be more than a minute. And even when you do get out of bed- sorry, Pookie!- there’s always room for showers and post-shower sex. You don’t make the rules, it just happens. And with your luck you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have asked for it.

What can you say? You’re just a girl, after all. A girl who loves her guy, whose guy loves her.

Fin! Xx.

[hayw1res]

Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Anton, Ben, Wise, and Lycaon being stuck in close proximity with his GN crush please?

♡﹒﹒ 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 !

𝅄; synopsis: HC , getting a little too close for comfort ft Anton, Ben, Wise and Von Lycaon

𝅄; warnings: none! , fluff, flirting , humor , GN! Reader

𝅄; a/n: ill be answering my requests more frequently now! if you sent a request earlier don’t worry i will be posting those soon as well! also i dont know much about Anton so sorry if hes a bit ooc! not proofread

You and Anton were pretty close friends at this point and often would run errands together for Koleda or Grace, today was just one of those days. You were taking spare parts to another company , Anton accompanied you of course. You made it to the first floor of the large building, the elevator was just a bit too small for the two of you especially due to his rather muscular build. It was a bit of tight squeeze up almost 13 floors..

the damn elevator was so cramped you swore you could feel the rise and fall of Antons chest with how close you were to him, how on EARTH was this thing certified? “Kinda..cramped in here isn’t it?” Anton spoke quietly, you were in close proximity after all. You looked up at him the best you could, but you could only laugh.. “What’s so funny—eh..” Anton looked down at you, your pretty eyes stared up at his and that’s when he realized just how close you two were, how his height compared to yours and just how pretty you looked from this angle.. so much so that he didn’t even hear you.

“Anton—Anton??” You called out to him, confused as to why he was just..looking at you? Anton snapped out of his trance and laughed awkwardly “WOW this elevator is slow isn’t it—doesn’t even feel like we’re goin anywhere” Surely he played that off cool enough. You snicker- “Anton I was telling you to push the button.. we haven’t moved.” Anton almost choked on his breath, turning to the array of buttons to see that he in fact.. did not push the button to the 13th floor..and you hadn’t been moving this whole time.

“I..I knew that.” He pushed the button to finally get you guys going, you could only smile at his cute demeanor..

“Course you did.”

Ben probably has saved your life in the Hollows more than once at this point, he was intimidating and sometimes just his presence alone would scare off anyone bothering you, you truly felt comfortable and happy around him more than anyone..though you didn’t actually know his underlying feelings for you just yet. Unlike everyone else.. So when you get sent off on “special” requests for Koleda- you never question her knowing smirk.

you and Ben just left on another small “mission” for Koleda, just to retrieve some item from the Hollow? You didnt fully understand what she needed, or why she needed you two to go alone specifically- but you never questioned her judgement ! Ben was pretty much your guard…bear? while you searched around the Hollow in search for the missing item. Ben just honestly loved seeing you run around freely with no problems, of course you could fend for yourself but..nothing made him feel better than knowing that he was your protector and you relied on him for that.

“Ben! Think I found something here- down there!” You called to him as you leaned over the bar overhead a pretty dastardly fall- Ben walked over to you, worried that you may fall over.. “Careful there y/n…” He said softly as he stood behind you, and boy was his intuition right. Almost as soon as he said that you could feel yourself lose balance and almost fall down , if it wasn’t for large arms immediately grabbing you and pulling you back, down with him..

“Are you okay?! You had me nervous there you know—“ Ben panicked , his eyes finally opening to you sitting almost completely on his lap, fixing your hair from the tumble..you were so cute, you looked..perfect. “Ah—sorry Ben I got too excited again didnt I” You chuckle and make eye contact with him. The position you were in.. his arms still protectively around your waist and your hands on his chest. You both didnt speak, but after a few seconds you finally see it..

“…Thirens can blush?” You tease, his cheeks in fact had a pinkish red tint to them , you found it adorable.. in fact, you found A LOT about the bear pretty cute for someone so intimidating and strong.. “Well don’t just sit and stare..lets hurry up so we can get home and maybe test that theory?” You stand on your own feet now, and before Ben could..he swore his cheeks burned harder.

Wise loved having you around when he and Belle did any proxy duties, you were not only great help around the store but you also hung out with the two of them as a close friend. On days when the two weren’t busy with commissions you usually would help out with whatever they needed- and occasionally go out with Belle or Wise when they needed to drop things off or maybe pick some things up. Today you went to the video store with Wise to pick up some new dvd’s for the store, the manager told you two about a few great movies they had in stock but unfortunately couldn’t reach, that was no problem for you two! It was just down the dark and creepy basement..

You and Wise crept down the dark room, only a flashlight in hand. Wise walked beside you , he laughed a bit at your nervousness- he found it adorable how at every creak you would slightly jump back. It wasn’t a hard search , just not a preferable one. “Wiseee come on.. its cold and creepy down here” You groaned as you held the light up for him as he searched through crates. “Yeah dont worry.. just hold it still okay?” He said back, holding back his grin.You swore he was moving slow on purpose , you almost completely lost it and ran back upstairs- the creepy factor increased with every passing second..

Wise was just about to turn with the few movies he found when he heard you shriek- he could barely react when you practically leapt into him! You surely weren’t thinking clearly and Wise was the only warm body around so.. to no surprise you went to him when you heard something fall behind you. You didn’t open your eyes until you felt his arms wrap around you, you looked up at him as you realize what just happened.. and there was that shit eating grin on his face, “Well if you wanted me to hold you..you could’ve just asked” He teased, his smirk turning to a fond smile as he felt you relax slightly in his arms. “Just—get the movies and lets go..” You mumble as you pull away , he nodded at you and took your hand this time, so you “wouldn’t get scared again”.

Victoria Housekeeping was like a second family to you at this point, you weren’t a maid/butler at all but that didnt stop you from occasionally running with them into Hollows when they time needed, and this was one of those times. Luckily when you all split up to escape a rather large and dangerous crowd of ethereals , you ran with Von Lycaon.. the tall handsome wolf thiren. You knew with him by your side, you wouldn’t have to worry much.

“This way- quickly now.” He called to you as you both ran around the corner of what was like an abandoned school building, with Lycaon quick movement and sharp turns it was hard to keep up. He noticed this and decided it would be best for you two to hide. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into a supply closet nearby, though it ws quick thinking..he didnt take into account that it would be a rathe small and tight fit. You were quickly pressed against his chest as his arms came up above you to make at least some room..

“A-Apologies .. this is a rather odd position” He said calmly but the way he avoided eye contact made you think twice.. you and Lycaon had some small moments here and there that would be labeled as harmless flirting , but this felt different. “Im enjoying the view” You were quick to reply, your laugh caused the wolf to scoff a bit “Focus..” He mumbled .. but you could feel his tail increase in speed just a little after that comment..

[temmtamm]

couldddd you POSSIBLY!.!!.!!! do a gravity falls yandere platonic ford which any age with a son!reader? Maybe around the age of 14 or younger. IF NOT THATS COMPLETELY FINE!

or if not that maybe a platonic yandere teen ford and stan with a younger brother?

Hii pookie!!

Friendly reminder once again, I do not do gender specific asks/headcanons!! Check my Gravity Falls ‘Asks Open’ post if anyone has any confusion on what I will/wont do!

As for a parental Ford…let’s see..

Well, at least in my opinion, Ford probably wouldn’t take that care of a child. He can barely take care of himself, let alone a kid.

But, if we are talking after the portal and everything, then I think that might be different.

Once again, Ford doesn’t have much of any parental bones in his body, but he does display more care and affection for the twins than I think he would’ve before the portal. I feel like he had matured and grown a lot through all the dimensions he had been in, and was able to recognize how poorly he was raised.

So, let’s say your home life wasn’t as great either, whether it be something as simple as your father being emotionally constipated, or your family just fights more than ‘normal’ ones, Ford WILL draw parallels to your home and his.

And Ford, after all he has learned, doesn’t want another person to wind up like him; craving validation and praise from others, to the point where he—I mean, you, seek it out from dangerous sources.

So…Ford starts hanging around you more.

He’s very…subtle with it. He knows kids, especially teenagers don’t care for adults getting all up in their business, so he tried to take it slow.

He didn’t expect how closed off you were, however. Your walls were completely up…So, he had to take some extra measures to get some details out of you.

Y’know the fun fact about all the weirdness in Grvaity Falls?? It means that there’s a lot of bugs that can repeat what it hears—So, it wasn’t that hard to sneak one of these copyroaches into your home and listen in on it repeating all that was heard in the home.

All the nasty fights, all the lonesome crying, all the times you’d gush to yourself or your friends on call about your special interests.

Don’t worry, he’s a good dad, he’ll let you keep SOME privacy…Just, a very, very, VERRYY small portion of it.

Slowly, you two start to bond more and more with him becoming more of a father figure to you with how he seems to always know what’s troubling you and the answers you need to hear in that moment…Not to mention, with him not being great with emotions, he tried to win your love with acts of service, such as making you dinner, saving the shoes you like on his DVR, and letting you spend the night at the shack when your parents fight.

Soon, he started to notice you staying at the shack more and more.

And more and more…He couldn’t help but grow discontent with the way your family treats you.

As said before, it doesn’t matter how small the issue is, if Ford had it his way, not a foul word should be spoken in your vicinity. Haven’t they already done enough damage to this child?? Do they want you to grow up in a broken home?!

In fact…He doesn’t think they’re fit to be parents. Not even in the slightest!!

He would be so much better…He’d actually take care of you, and he is smarter than any school they have been putting you in for that matter—All those kids are just so cruel to you, even if you don’t know it yet.

That…actually gives him an idea.

“So…anything happen at school today, champ?” Ford mumbled in his usual low, raspy voice as he scrubbed at the dishes in the sink, his apron still tied around his waist from cooking.

“Uh…Ford?” He didn’t even bat an eye or look up at you as you started to feel queasy, pushing the bowl of soup away from you at the dinner table. “I think the vegetables in this went bad…I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ford just let out a good, hearty laugh. “Don’t be silly, I made it with all fresh ingredients. Have a look for yourself. Only the best for you.”

You could feel your stomach start to churn and growl, with the sight that greeted you when you looked down at your bowl not making you feel any better.

Was that an…eye?!

…

It’s the same shade as your mother’s.

“O-Oh god..” You bit down on your lip, bile starting to creep up in the back of your throat at the sight…and that’s when the melatonin had started to kick in, making your vision grow spotty. It was hard for Ford to find a dosage of that where it was not only over the required limit for a young teen, but also able to be hidden in food. He did it though. Better that than rat poison for his little baby.

“Aww, oh no? Are you having a stomach bug?? Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better.”

That’s the sick part. He genuinely believes it’s better locked in the shack for you. Why wouldn’t it be?? He’ll spoil you with all the care and love a child deserves, not to mention he will be sure to intellectually stimulate your brain as well.

You’ll see. He’ll be the perfect father for you.

[gutterfuuck]

more bff mark please i beg of youuuuuyuy

bff!mark headcanons + extra — !

i haven’t done these yet + i think maybe i would like to give more context/background to bff mark? i am not sure haha. mdni, somno mentioned, stalking, yandere(? i am not too well versed on this), suggestive, lowk incel behaviour if u squint, lmk if u think i missed anything, this is kind of rushed!

i feel like he definitely has glasses… has to wear them, but doesn’t. he always either forgets or doesn’t want to, complains about them leaving red marks on his nose bridge when you ask why. starts wearing them a little more occasionally when you comment on them being cute, even if the frames were a little too thick. he settled on contact lenses when he started high school. i also think that people forget that mark is a NERD!! we have all seen how geeky he was when he went to comicon with amber.

gets nosebleeds quite frequently. they started to get worse when you dressed in less and less clothing during the hot summers, loses his marbles when you show up in a white shirt. at first, he would try to claim that all of the times he had thrown water onto you were accidents; starts telling you that he wants to have a water fight. it was summer after all and you both wouldn’t be in your 20s forever. you could still get away with being just a little bit irresponsible.

has a reddit that he retreats to whenever you get a new boyfriend. complains to his audience of literally two strangers about how he’d been in the friendzone for as long as he could remember, makes threats towards the men that you date on the internet using sock puppet accounts. uses those same accounts to target you, sends you pictures of your address and tells you things that only YOU could know. this seems to work in his favour more often than not; you’d call him in a panic and he’d be right there, patting your back and holding you as you sobbed about your creepy cyber stalker with the knowledge that it was himself. on the topic of that, he STALKS your socials. he has an album in his camera roll dedicated to candid pictures he has taken/found of you.

likes to watch you sleep. we all know this. he also likes to touch you in your sleep, likes the fact that you’re so trusting and would never suspect your best friend of doing such things to you. he gets off on the sort of power dynamic it puts you both in, likes the thrill of wether you’ll wake up or not and catch him in the act. he just wants to make sure you’re okay, he promises!

gets super clingy and whiny when you have other friends over or when you’re hanging around other people, hates it when he can hear you laughing at other peoples jokes.

“but we have plans today…!” he almost pouted at you when he had woken up to find you already dressed and finishing up your makeup in his little mirror. mark had panicked when he’d opened his eyes and couldn’t feel you anywhere next to him on the mattress. when you stayed over usually you’d be asleep until the afternoon, that was when mark would shake you conscious with a cup of coffee in his hand that he’d make for you. you only chuckled at him, keeping your hand steady as you drew the wings of your eyeliner. who were you getting all dolled for? why didn’t you get dolled up for him the same way?

“we have plans for later. i can’t bail again, i already didn’t go yesterday because i came to stay with you, they’re all gonna think i’m a no-show.” you said back, eyes flickering to the left and the right, trying to see if you had gotten your eyeliner even. “when you say it like that it makes it sound like you were forced to come over.” he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to disguise his jealousy with a lighthearted joke that didn’t feel like a joke to him. the vibes in the room seemed off, almost as if tension was building. you gave him a look, stomping over to where he laid in bed and placed your head right next to his, staring into his eyes.

“it’s only for a couple hours while i go shopping. plus, i need you to head over to my house, take the chicken out the freezer before we’re eating at burger-mart again.” you were so close. your face was only a few inches away from his, he could’ve kissed you. he wanted to. “you remember where the spare key is? right under the plant pot?” you questioned, moving away from him to observe yourself in the mirror. in his mind, you had gotten all dressed up and pretty for him and him only. “meet me back at mine for six-ish. do you want me to get you anything?” mark almost shot up out of his bed when you had said that. six?? ish??? that could mean you’d be out for later! “‘six-ish’?” he groaned, glancing at his twenty four hour clock. 11:35. you couldn’t possibly be shopping for the whole day, that definitely meant that you’d be out out.

mark knew where your spare house key was, and it wasn’t underneath the plant pot. it sat in his top drawer under a mess of his clothes. that wasn’t your spare key, it was his key. his own personal key, given to him by you. he hated when you went out of town but loved the fact that he’d have free reign over your room. “chicken out the freezer, six pm sharp-“ he started, moving the cover off of his body before you shook your head, correcting him, “six-ish. i’m not sure when i’ll be back.” you smiled, mark wanted to throw up. he couldn’t believe that it had gotten to the point where he wanted to physically be sick when you told him you wanted to hang out with others.

he’s extremely overprotective of you. almost always by your side, people have started to think that you’re dating him. mark gets so happy he feels like he might pop when you’re walking through the mall together and someone trying to sell something addresses you as “the lovely couple”. he relishes in little moments like that, cutting the part where you would tell the person that you were just friends completely out of his brain.

he’s made you break up with a few of your boyfriends. or rather, he’s made them break up with you. aside from terrorising your partners (past and present) through the internet, as soon as he had gotten his powers he had started terrorising them in real life, too. you just thought that all of the guys you dated had a serious case of leaving your dates and finding their cars crushed like a soda can, their houses being ransacked and near enough destroyed when they decided that it was time to have a second date, regardless of the car.

mark loves it when it’s just you and him, no room left for other people. he loves it when you’re alone, his head in your lap, your nails stroking along his scalp as you both kept your eyes on the screen, mark’s mind distant from whatever you were watching as he bathes in the soft pets you gave him. he’d keep anyone away from you if it meant that it’d just be you and him together forever.

he’s not stupid, he knows that your friends don’t like him. he had supersonic hearing for fucks sake, he caught what one of your friends had said about him when he had walked away from the table you were sitting at to put his stuff away in his dorm room. “he’s so… weird.” “are you really okay with him touching you like that?” “he’s dick repellent.” and mark would grit his teeth behind the wall he walked by with his fists clenched. he wanted to tear them all in half. “if you have a problem with him, then i have a problem with you guys.” you’d respond jokingly, though had all intentions of cutting them off if they were to double down. he’d blush, holding his face in his hands, suddenly absolved of all of the anger he held.

debbie refers to you as his girlfriend when it’s just him and her, giggling at his sudden nervousness. he wished you were his girlfriend, dreamt of the day he could roll over in the mornings and kiss you awake, holding you close to his chest… instead of rolling over to your sleeping form, debating wether he had enough time to touch you before you’d wake up slowly, eyelashes fluttering awake.

mark loved your room, it smelled just like you. it felt just like you, felt as if he was breathing you in and looking right into your soul. entering your home and walking up the stairs straight towards your bedroom, he’d flop down face first onto your bed, inhaling deeply before checking the time on his phone. 5:25. you’d be home soon, hopefully. he’d completely forgotten your instructions, he was supposed to have left his house to take the chicken out of the freezer as soon as you had gone in the early afternoon. he’d stayed home to go through the dirty laundry, looking for the pair of panties you had taken off the night before so he could stand with the shower running, your underwear wrapped around his dick as he jerked off with them, mumbling to himself about the things that he would do to you if only given the chance…

“mark?” you called, leaving your shopping bags in the hall while you closed the door, locking it behind you. you went to check the kitchen, looking for the familiar shape of the chicken on the side, rolling your eyes when you realised that it wasn’t there. maybe he wasn’t even here! you didn’t mind too much, he had probably forgotten. you’d almost jump out of your skin when you entered your room, not expecting your friend to be on your bed, laying on his stomach, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he snored ever so quietly. he looked cute, hand folded under one of your pillows with his hair all messy, his eyebrows furrowing occasionally in his sleep. your hand hovered over his head, stroking his hair back, “maaarkusss…” you’d say in a sing-song voice, grinning when he looked up at you. mark sat up, the side of his face a little wet from drool, your pillow had a wet patch from where he’d slept.

“you can sleep on that pillow tonight, then.” you laughed, pointing to where he had salivated on your pillow. mark grumbled something about you getting makeup patches all over his pillows and he still slept on them, yawning and stretching before he looked over to his phone, tapping the screen to look at the time. 8:47. 8:47..!? he looked over to your window, noticing that the sky had started to dim. he then jumped up, panic settling in, “i- the chicken, freezer- i’m so sorry- how long did you let me sleep for?” he stuttered, walking towards your bedroom door to head downstairs, “it’s okay, we’ll just get takeout again. my parents left some cash for looking after the place while they’re away.” you sat at your mirror, mark breathing a sigh of relief as he sat back on your bed, watching you wipe off your makeup, “also, i’ve just gotten back. i’m sorry i was late, you must’ve gotten tired waiting on me, huh?” you rubbed your face with the makeup wipes, messily piling them up on your desk as you used them, you’d throw them away after you were done.

mark almost snaps right there, you said six-ish. it was almost nine. he felt betrayed in a way, like you had lied to him. he had to recuperate for a second, remembering that you had a life of your own, you were your own person. but it wasn’t fair. he wanted nothing more than for you to be yourself, but he wanted you for his own. this was so painful. “what happened to six..ish..?” he asked, tilting his head at you. you looked at him from your mirror, eyes meeting with his, “funny story, actually. can you believe that i had to walk back here, all the way from the mall? nobody had a ride! the cars were full..!” oh. so that’s why you wanted your makeup off as soon as possible, you had near enough sweated it all off walking back. you smelled good, natural. he wished you had worn a tighter shirt today, he would’ve gone crazy seeing the wet patches below your boobs from your sweat. he had expected you to tell him that you had gone to one of your friends houses. this was a pleasant surprise.

“you should’ve called me- we could’ve flown back. we haven’t done that in a while, i miss it.” he missed the way you clung onto him, face buried in the crook of his neck with your legs wrapped around his waist. “i didn’t want to bother you. you could’ve been out doing hero shit.” you responded, standing up from your desk and opening your drawer, pulling out your pajamas. a spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of matching shorts. “you could never bother me.” he mumbled, eyes fixed on you as you walked out of your room to the bathroom to get changed. “that’s really soppy, grayson!” you called from the other room, his face red when he realised that you had heard him.

he gives into “peer pressure” a lot. and by peer pressure i mean that he sees you doing something and wants to partake. you smoked a little pot in college? mark wanted to try. you wanted to do endless shots at a party? mark would be stumbling back to your dorm room with you. he wanted to be cool for you, even if that meant making himself look like a lightweight.

i will be adding more to this, this was just something small until i can get my head together and finally rewrite my longer fics!! for those of you who followed for my grayson&grayson fic, you can unfollow if you like! nothing against you, you are welcome back when i do rewrite and release it!

[nor-4]

Heyy, I have just seen you are accepting request! I haven’t seen too many people writing about mike and when I saw you I was definitely delighted with all your masterpieces!

maybe (if u don’t feel uncomfortable writing about it) can you do a scenario/headcanon of mike comforting an angst and period pain reader?

Sorry for requesting this but I really feel like needing a soft and comprehensive mike rn 😿💞

anyways, if you aren’t really into it It will be fine as well!<3

have a nice day ;)

Aww it's fine bae i seriously love you all, who told you that i have praising kink😩

Mike knows you period schedule. So you don't have to wake up feeling uncomfortable with blood on that sheet.

While you change your sanitary napkin, he insisted that you should let him make breakfast. It's too early so he had time making other dishes so you can choose on what you eat, cause he knows that when you're on period sometimes you're a picky eater.

And mike knows that when you are on a period, you will have this kind of episode. Mike swears that he is lucky that he bought groceries yesterday, he gets to buy your favorite ice cream on time.

Luckily abby didn't have school today so you have a accompany. So before dinner you and abby decided to watch her favorite cartoon movie that she really adored, she even draw the main character on her drawings.

Seeing the finale of the movie made you tear up, even abby is crying on how much she adores the movie. Mike came on a right time.

"Baby what happened?.." He asked while rubbing both of you and abby's back, "It's just the crocodile is so cute.." Mike was left dumbfounded on your answer but still decided to comfort both of you.

You both stopped crying upon seeing mike bought your favorite food.

After dinner mike took a bath because it's been a whole fat hour since he started talking about how greasy his hair feels. After getting out of the bathroom, he saw you sniff a cry while holding your stomach in pain.

He rushed to see what is happening and he already knew, mike always have a heater by his night table and he put the heater on your stomach while holding you on a hug and comforting you tears away.

After the pain go away he came running to get you water since it's what all you need, you don't need to say a single word cause he can read you like a book.

He cuddle you to his bed after you drink a water while whispering how much he loves you, it didn't take a long time for both of you to fell asleep.

Nothing hurts him other than seeing you in pain, as much as possible he is trying to learn everything about you and how you feel.

[jennaimmortal]

Musings on OFMD Season 2

I’m feeling a bit sad today for the OFMD writers. After rewatching S1 & 2 a couple times, it’s become blatantly clear to me that Izzy’s arc this season was a very obvious love letter to both Izzy fans & the great Con O’Neil. Izzy was very clearly written to be an obstacle to Ed’s healing & personal growth, a snare that Ed needed to be freed from, albeit with plenty of nuance hiding under the surface. It would have been much easier for them to kill Izzy off while he was still the toxic, abusive, sadomasochistic terror of S1E10.

Instead of taking the easy route, though, the writers flipped the trope on its head! They utilized every bit of the potential buried beneath Izzy’s super fucked up shell. This season Izzy got

• a fully fleshed out redemption complete with terrible consequences of his 1x10 actions

• a realization of the possibility of another way of thinking & existing that he’d spent all of S1 running from & trying to destroy,

• genuine love & support from his crew mates which he was actually able to accept,

• exploration of the long abandoned softer side of his nature,

• an apology from Ed w/o first offering one of his own,

• a powerful, devastatingly poignant speech that mentally demolished a new nemesis, and finally

• a beautiful, meaningful death in the arms of the man he’d dedicated so much of his life to, known that he was truly loved by him & completely accepting of the fact that Ed’s love was not in the form he’d always hoped for.

It was so much more than we could have hoped for, and was very obviously done in service to the MANY fans that had fallen in love with Izzy even after S1, as well as to give Con a storyline worthy of his immense talent. Considering the face that Izzy was never going to end up becoming the show’s third protagonist, it was more than we could have hoped for!

OFMD has two protagonists, Stede & Ed. All the secondary character narratives that haven’t directly involved Ed and/or Stede have been icing on the cake, but the cake has always been the Gentlebeard love story. I feel like some people forget this, expecting them to treat the secondary characters as if it were an ensemble show instead of a show with leads.

Izzy’s arc really was an amazing gift! The writers gave us this incredible journey for Izzy this season, and what did a disgraceful number of people do? They attacked David directly, insulted the entire show, the writers, & other characters, even wishing actual harm & misery to other characters or even to David himself!

While I know that comparatively speaking, the percentage of show fans who reacted this way was relatively small, it was still an astounding amount of hatred & vitriol thrown at the people who had obviously worked very hard to give Izzy fans something beautiful to hold on to after his inevitable death. Much of the discourse honestly shocked me, considering the fact that OFMD isn’t even an adaptation of another work.

When fans get angry at shows written as adaptations of books, it’s a bit more understandable for them to have extreme reactions. They’ve had certain ideas and headcanons about characters they’ve felt very strongly about for a long time. It can be really jarring & painful when expectations like that aren’t met, the characters or plots are taken in totally different directions, or even excluded entirely.

OFMD, however, is an original creation. This is David Jenkins’s story. These are David Jenkins’s characters. He knows his story, his plotlines, his characters far better than anyone else does because they came from HIS brain! So while we as fans can have our own interpretations & head canons, they are always going to be at risk of being proven totally wrong by the ACTUAL canon.

One of the worst aspects of fandoms, in my opinion, is the way people become so proprietary over the story & characters, insisting that their own interpretations & theories are the only correct ones, which is exactly what happened with Izzy. Fans’ individual & collective interpretations, theories, hopes, & other head canons became concrete & true in their minds. So much so that when the actual story didn’t meet those expectations, so many of them lashed out in some truly unpleasant, sometimes hateful ways.

My only hope is that the rest of the fandom’s love, appreciation, constructive criticism, heartbreak, pain, joy, & excitement has been enough to drown out the deluge of vitriolic comments directed at David & the other writers.

If you stuck with me through this unintentionally long diatribe, thank you! Maybe take a moment to give the writers some comments or replies on social media, showing your love! I know I will!

[ryuichirou]

EVEN MORE dark hcs (part 2)

As promised, here is a part 2 that should’ve been posted yesterday! Today we’re talking about Ace (+Deuce), Sebek (+Silver) and Lilia (+Silver and + Malleus), but before we dive into them, here is a new ask related to the previous post. I’ll answer it now!

Anonymous asked:

your dark headcanon post about trey drugging riddle has me thinking…rook of course encouraging his club mate but also maybe offering epel as a test subject for trey’s positions, since he’s around riddle’s height/build >:3

Ohhh, you’re making a good point, Anon…

I think Trey would be terrified if Rook found out about his little private project, but let’s be honest – there is no way Rook won’t notice that Trey is doing something shady. And since it’s out of love, a crime of passion in a way, he could be weirdly on board with it. Trey would be so shocked because he was certain Rook would warn him and tell him that he shouldn’t do it, but for Rook to hint at Epel for some reason… Does he have his own agenda in this whole thing or is he just being generous??

Anyways, I feel like Epel would be one of the few people Trey would experiment on fully if you know what I mean. Since he has a similar build, and a lot of similarities to Riddle in general… he is a very good one to train on. And a very pleasant one to touch.

Anyways, that’s enough Trey shenanigans for today!

Anonymous asked:

I love, love, LOVE your dark headcanons!!! Got any about Ace and the two diasomnia tops?

Once again, sorry for the wait , Anon!

I’ll start with the two Diasomnia tops, because I’ve talked about them before and don’t have a lot to add;

Sebek has two posts: a post about him with Malleus and a post about him with Idia, both are yandere-themed. I haven’t talked about Sebek/Silver in that sense though, so here are a couple of bonus hcs… not super dark though by Sebek’s standards, so maybe one day I’ll come back to this idea and write more dark SebeSil stuff.

Sebek’s fae puberty is hitting him hard, and even though he is only half fae, he can’t control it well. Silver is the most likely to be the victim of his urges, and at first he tried to resist, but then quickly realised that Sebek’s mind is elsewhere a lot of times when he does that. So now he just allows Sebek to have his fill, to bite him, to scratch him, to fuck him and to play with him. He always looks at Sebek the next day, trying to figure out if he even remembers what happened or not. Most of the times Sebek looks very confused, but doesn’t seem to remember, so Silver also does nothing and lies about his limp and scratches appearing for a completely different reason. Sebek is pretty brutal too, so it’s hard for Silver. But…

Trey isn’t the only one who ends up fucking someone when they’re asleep; of course Sebek would do it with Silver too. He didn’t really mean to make a habit out of it, and he finds it horribly shameful, but after a certain point he’ll start thinking that every time Silver falls asleep in front of him he is pretty much provoking him. It will end up becoming a habit; at first he’d just fuck him at night when he’s asleep, but then he’d start pushing his sleeping head down and press Silver’s salivating sleepy mouth on his erection every now and then throughout the day…

Isn’t it funny how they keep having sex with one of them not being aware that it’s happening? Anyways!

Lilia also has a yandere post about him+Idia, plus I mentioned his dark general past here and there. Of course it would be a shame not to write a couple more hcs for him, so here are 2 about him with Malleus, 2 about him and Silver and 2 general ones (the last ones are pretty gory):

Lilia made Malleus eat an egg he laid himself once… it was an “empty” one, like a regular chicken egg. It actually was quite good for Malleus nutrition-wise, especially considering that had he just laid an egg completely unexpectedly for no reason! But Malleus is still kind of traumatised by this memory and remembers Lilia staying behind his still pretty young self, not letting him out of the table and telling him to keep eating. Lilia doesn’t remember it as grimly… it was pretty harmless in his head.

There is a tiny dented scratch on Malleus’ left horn that Lilia made when he was younger and they just started having sex. Lilia was feeling very possessive, and wanted to leave a mark that would make Malleus remember him. Even though these days he would sigh and say that it was excessive and he should’ve have done it, he is kind of a hypocrite because he still rubs it with his finger and licks it these days when they’re being intimate. Sometimes to make Malleus behave when he is being bratty.

Similarly to that, there is also a tiny scar on Silver’s lower back. There was even a moment when Lilia considered branding Silver with iron, but he quickly came back to his senses – those urges should stay in the past, and this isn’t how he should be treating Silver OR Malleus… but still, he couldn’t resist, so one time he bit him down there so hard that Silver could still feel a couple of little bumps of scar tissue near his tailbone. He doesn’t remember how young he was when he got bit.

Even though Lilia was good enough at self-control not to mind-break Malleus even once, he did it with Silver. Maybe he overestimated Silver’s human body, maybe he got too carried away and nostalgic for the times when he used to keep the boys he fucked completely “brainless”, making them unable to recover and becoming miserable and sex-obsessed… But anyways, he remembers choking Silver after having sex with him for hours, and maybe it was the lack of oxygen, maybe it was overstimulation, but he gave Silver this weird bug in his head: now after a certain point his brain just shuts down, but his body keeps fucking until he’s unable to move. No one but Lilia knows about it because to Lilia it was an “oops, maybe they won’t notice” moment.

Lilia used to be extremely good at torture, both regular and sexual. Well, he is still probably pretty good, but it’s been quite a while since he had to do something like that. But he did use a lot of torture devices, both intricate and crude and handmade ones. When he becomes sadistic during sex these days, he can still take things a little bit too far sometimes – old habits don’t die… He did completely rip someone’s nipple off once when he didn’t really mean to.

He isn’t necessarily very proud of it these days, but he did desecrate a couple of dead bodies back when he was younger… He had a lot of pent up anger and horniness, and was extremely self-indulgent, so he didn’t hold back at all. He is someone who used to make extra holes in bodies for sexual purposes.

Alright, now Ace! Our main ship with him is Ace/Deuce, so poor Deuce is going to be his victim today. I also wanted to say that I don’t really see Ace as that dangerous of a guy as the other characters I’ve mentioned in this blog, but now that I look at the list… I guess I was wrong lol It got kind of grim here. That’s the Heartslabyul’s main menace for you!

In another more neutral post I said that Ace gets the tingles when Deuce cries, but in this one you know what? He loves it when Deuce cries. He can’t explain it, and maybe it’s just him being mean towards Deuce because he’s very jealous and possessive and always wants to have some kind of effect on Deuce. When his comments get to Deuce to the point that he can tell Deuce doesn’t want to look at him because he’s tearing up, Ace is always a little bit shocked… but weirdly satisfied. He’ll try to do it more in the future, he’s curious if he could make Deuce start bawling like a baby. Especially if it happens during sex… sometimes he dreams about red-faced Deuce choking on his dick because his nose is all stuffy because he’s been crying so hard.

Ace also strikes me as someone who pulls his loved one down with him… if they’re a bit older, and Deuce is working hard trying to make his police gig work, and Ace’s adult life went wrong somehow with him losing job, money and having a gambling problem, he is going to try “drowning” Deuce instead of allowing him to help. It’s easier to make the other’s life just as bad as his, it’s better not to feel alone down there, even though Ace absolutely knows that this isn’t what he should be doing. He knows perfectly well that he is breaking Deuce’s heart by wishing bad things to happen, by sabotaging him little by little, by making him skip job, get drunk during inappropriate moments, maybe even get caught doing inappropriate things at work. He knows it’s wrong, but it’s so weirdly comforting for him to see Deuce fail, get disappointed and come back to him, reminding him that all they have is each other.

Ace could be petty and reckless enough to cast a spell on Deuce that is too advanced for him, which means the spell could easily backfire and lead to horrible consequences. I’m not necessarily talking about Deuce dying, but something life-altering: a serious injury, maybe changing Deuce’s appearance or the way his body functions, maybe even affecting his brain to the point that Deuce can’t speak properly or even think straight.

Of course Ace isn’t a psycho, so he’ll feel very guilty about it and will try to take care of Deuce is the thing is irreversible… but he’ll still on some level think that it was entirely Deuce’s fault, because he made everything much more complicated than it needed to be. But also, on some level he’d be happy that Deuce is now completely his and can’t even fight back due to being either paralysed or having his mind broken.

In contrast to previous hcs, another possible scenario would be for Ace to become a more-or-less successful functional human being, but to keep Deuce hidden in his house. When he’s working, he’s just his regular Ace self – he makes jokes, complains about higher-ups, teases his senpais about how they should treat him during lunch. But then he comes home to Deuce, whose legs he took away either with magic or by injuring him. Ace would probably like this scenario the most, because it still feels like the same Deuce whom he loves so dearly ever since they were 16, but he just can’t run away now… and is mentally in shambles, but that’s not important.

[badaspebble]

ah i’m loving your writing~!! i would like to request something where reader is a trainee on a survival show, since swf dancers often become judges, bada being a judge/mentors, and maybe reader gives her secret love letters? or flirts with her off camera because she has a crush. it doesn’t haven’t to be a whole oneshot or something headcanons would be cool too ! ty~

✎ To My Secret Admirer

A/N: Hey babe! Thank you for the compliment and the ask 🫶🏽. I hope you’re doing well. This is like super short and rushed I’m sorry :(

Warnings: Swearing. It’s all just fluff.

Bada Lee x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Who am I?” Those were the first thoughts you had when you saw her. She was beautiful. Absolutely fucking captivating. Her tall stature made her seem unapproachable, but Bada was really just a giant puppy. Who were you? A contestant who was hopelessly in love with this woman. You were somebody that couldn’t have her, right? You pondered on that thought until you were reminded of the way her face would light up when she found your notes towards her. Your notes, not anybody else’s. Of course, she didn’t actually know it was from you, but let’s be honest. You’re way too obvious when you’re around her.

Tripping over nothing? Are you serious? Stuttering when you’re trying to impress her? Lord. Even if she was blind with no sense of anybody taking a liking to her, she would still know it was from you. Might as well write your name on them too. It wasn’t long until you remembered that did actually know.

The little glances towards you, along with the way she’d take any chance to be in contact with you…it made you keep going. You were glad you did, because you started receiving notes too. They weren’t much, but every single word that was written on them really brightened your day.

It would be stuff like “You look so beautiful today,” or funnier ones like “Your hair looks so good! (Please kiss me)” and “Tbh you shouldn’t let others perceive you in my honest, humble opinion that is not biased :)”

You especially loved those ones. Communicating through notes was good at first, but you craved her direct attention. You wanted her eyes on you, wanted her to smile while talking to you.

You’ve been recently feeling very courageous, sending more bold things her way. You’ve even left your lipstick mark on your newest letters. You figured since she basically already knew, might as well go up to her.

Your eyes were glued onto her as you walked up, ignoring the conversation she’s having. Which was a bit rude, but who knows when you’ll be this brave again. You took a deep breath as she turned to you, and swallowed harshly.

“H-“ Your voice cracked, embarrassing you even further. You both just stared at each other after that, with Bada trying not to laugh and you trying not to run away while looking at her blankly.

You didn’t try to speak again, but Bada thankfully spoke up. “Hey..” She smirked, holding in her laugh. Your voice was cute, and it still sounded cute with your voice crack. You were adorable. “How’s your routine going?” She asked, still smiling bright while trying not to laugh.

You swallowed again, threatening whichever higher being that existed to not let you embarrass yourself again. “It’s good…uhm it would’ve been better if you were there to help..” You coughed awkwardly.

Bada looked at you, slowly letting her smile brighten even more, if that was even possible. “Was that your attempt at flirting?” She said with a giggle.

You just looked at her and pursed your lips. “Anyways..” You said, turning your body around and walking away.

You heard Bada’s laughter behind you as it slowly got louder the closer she got. “Don’t run!” More laughter followed. “I thought it was cute, I pinky promise.” She grabbed your arm, turning you around to meet her twinkling eyes. “How about I teach you some stuff later? My studio is just around the corner.”

You looked up at her, letting a shy smile take over your face. “Are you sure that’s even allowed? You’re gonna get me kicked off this thing.” You say jokingly, avoiding her stare.

“I won’t let them. Don’t tell anybody but…you’re my favorite.” She leaned in to whisper jokingly, before she giggled.

Swallowing harshly, you finally met her eyes. “Okay..” You mumbled, still a little bit unsure. You felt her pat your head, subtly messing up your hair and running away as you noticed. “Hey! Bada??” You yell out, hearing her giggles down the hallway.

Sighing, you fixed your hair as you felt your heartbeat increase. Would she actually take the time out of her day to teach you? Are you guys just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been sending letters to each other? You laughed at that, not realizing how weird it sounded out loud.

You sat on the ground next to the set, realizing you don’t have her number nor do you have the location of her studio. “Am I a dumbass?” You laughed at yourself, probably looking crazy as hell. You were about to get up and wallow in your self pity as you walked home until you heard a motorcycle in the distance. It rolled up to you before slowly stopping. You were about to tell them to fuck off before they took their helmet off, revealing Bada.

“Are we in a movie?” Was the first thing you said. “This is the most cliche thing ever.” You continued saying, looking at her in disbelief. Her smile graced her face as she laughed. “Just get on, I promise it’s not that far.”

She handed you a helmet as you looked at her in even more disbelief. “Girl…” You mumbled, putting the helmet on and sitting behind her. She started off going slow before revving her bike and going faster. “How do you even know my head size? That’s very weird of you.” You yelled so she could hear you over the wind.

Silence followed, and you guess she might’ve not heard you. “…Next question.” You finally heard her mumble. You laughed, the arms holding her waist securely started to hug her tighter as you rested your head on her back despite the helmet. It was quiet the rest of the way, both of you just basking in the comfort of each other.

It wasn’t long before you made it to her studio. She was fast as she got off her bike, taking her helmet off before pulling you off too. You giggled despite yourself, loving how unnecessary that entire act was.

Bada played it cool after that. “Yeah I’m like super strong and stuff. I workout occasionally…you know.”

You looked at her. So much for playing it cool. You tried really hard to keep in your laugh, your face turning red and your eyes looking anywhere but her.

“Interesting…” You said while giggling subtly. “Yeah..” Bada said with an awkward cough. “Anyways, let’s go in.” She hurriedly switched the subject, ushering the both of you inside. Once you both settled your stuff, you looked at each other. “Soooo…” You looked around.

Bada looked at you sheepishly, looking kind of guilty. “To be honest, I only did this so I could spend time with you..” She mumbled, looking like a kicked puppy as she looked around.

Smiling, you sat on the floor facing the mirror. You patted the spot next to you. “So let’s get to know each other some more..”

Bada giggled again, looking like she just won a million bucks as she sat next to you. The night went on, as the both of you talked about anything. From favorite colors, to wondering if aliens exist, to theories about the multiverse.

“Do you think we’d meet in every universe?” You questioned. Bada looked at you, her eyes sparkling brightly as she took in you, your soul…your existence in her life. “I would hope so…I think you’re the only one I’d want to meet in every universe.”

She held your hand, interlocking your pinkies together as you guys giggle. “You're actually probably stalking me in every universe” Bada says jokingly.

You look at her with wide eyes and an offended expression. “Way to ruin the moment dummy..”

A/N: Tony Ann is so perfect to listen to whenever I write. Def check him out

[softxsuki]

Hi, this ia kind of an emergency request because i had been feeling really suicidal lately and i thought that maybe reading some angst/confort would help ❤️‍🩹

Soo, i wanted to ask for Izuku in which his bestfriend had been feeling like super suicidal and she has been selfharming.

Thankss 🫶

Midoriya Comforts Sui*idal Reader

| Pairing: Midoriya x Gn!Reader (PLATONIC) | Genre: Comfort/Angst | Post-Type: Headcanons | Word Count: 470 |

Warning: mentions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, depression

Note: Hope this helps :) <3 and for everyone reading this, urgent requests are now closed for the rest of April, I'll have three more spots open in May :D

Our gentle boy, Midoriya, is great at reading people

So when you begin to isolate yourself and plaster that fake smile on your face whenever you’re with your friends together, he knows something is up

But he’s a little awkward and doesn’t know how to bring it up without accidentally hurting your feelings or making you feel uncomfortable–that’s the last thing he’d ever want

So despite the anguish that hits his heart when you show up at his door with tears in your eyes, he’s relieved that you’re finally opening up to him

He was your best friend, someone you knew you could always rely on, and your favorite hero despite also being a hero as well, you wanted to put your trust in him

So you tell him everything; how you’ve been feeling recently, the self-harm, the thoughts of suicide that terrified you, yet sometimes felt like your only option

And he listened to every word, holding one of your hands as he traced small circles into your skin, encouraging you to continue speaking, not an ounce of judgment in his eyes as you pour your heart out

“Y/N, you’re my best friends, I wouldn’t be where I am today without your support. I’m thankful everyday that you’re alive by my side, I���m just sorry that I haven’t been giving you the same support to where you feel this way now. I’m sorry”

You quickly tell him that it isn’t his fault, he was a great friend who always helped you out and was there for you when you needed him, your problems were rooted deeper and would take longer to heal from

But with Midoriya by your side, you’d be able to get through anything now that he was aware of your situation

He’d show you that life was worth living one day at a time while offering to get you professional help as well, even if it was just having a professional to talk to about your feelings once a week so they could help guide you in the right direction

In the meantime though, he’d do whatever he could for you, showing you beautiful things in the world, making sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself again, and helping you be happy again, no matter how long it takes

“I’ll show you the little things in this world that you won’t want to miss, so stick around so you can see them all,” he says with a smile

Nothing changes with your friendship, he treats you the same, but perhaps is a little more aware and direct with making sure you’re doing okay and reaches out first if he suspects you’re not doing too well

Very attentive and kind as usual, wants the best for you so you can feel like yourself again without the dark cloud hanging over your head

Posted: 4/22/2024

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmen berzatto x fem!reader | chapter seven: tuesday, again

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, references to sex, no use of y/n, second person pov, happy ending

word count: 3.8k

summary: you left your heart in chicago, so the only logical conclusion you've come to, is that you have to go back.

a/n: ok this author's note may be a long one. WOW. can i just say 'wow' holy shit?! i wrote this story in a week because inspiration struck and i couldn't get these characters, or this story, out of my freaking head. i am beyond grateful to any and all that read, liked, reblogged, or commented. thank you for being cheerleaders for me, carmy, and this story. i am truly so in love with these characters it hurts, so thank you for encouraging me to continue this love affair.

that being said, i am not done with these two at all. i have a few companion pieces i'm working on right now: a playlist, a headcanon, and maybe even a oneshot (or a few but who's counting)? thank you again for reading. please enjoy.

read: part six | masterlist

Tuesday, again. 

It’s Tuesday again and your time in Chicago has come to an end. Carmy had stayed the night with you at your airbnb. But morning came, and he left early to start his morning at the restaurant. Truthfully, he just hadn’t wanted to watch you pack – couldn’t get out of there fast enough when you’d opened your suitcase. You noticed how much it bothered him, letting him know that you’d stop by the restaurant before heading to the airport. 

And that was that. You’d gone your separate ways before, and you’d go your separate ways again – just for a little bit. And it wouldn't be like last the last time. It’s bittersweet – leaving today – but you keep reminding yourself of the conversation you’d had yesterday about the future of your relationship. You wanted to be with him, and Carmy wanted to be with you. The rest, you’d figure out as you go.

Your boyfriend.

It felt strange – even if he’d basically already been your unofficial platonic boyfriend back in New York. Adding a title to it was a whole other ball game. 

New. 

Never did you think, as you were preparing for this trip, that you’d return back home with Carmy as yours. You thought maybe you’d talk about what happened -- smooth things over -- but that would be that, and you’d go back to being friends. After this week, you were starting to believe you were never supposed to be just friends. 

You had a feeling none of your friends would be surprised when you shared the news – not in the least. 

You finish packing up your things, double checking that you haven’t left anything behind before heading to the restaurant. It’s about thirty minutes to lunch service, and since they’re not open just yet, you enter through the back door one last time for what feels like could be a while. 

And there it is again: that bittersweet feeling. 

“Chef!” Tina says, her eyes lighting up as she sees you. “You headin’ out today?”

“Hey, T,” you reply. “Yeah, I’m heading to the airport after this. Just wanted to stop by before I go.”

“Well you better come back soon,” she says almost as if it’s a threat, and you laugh in response. 

“Of course.”

“There she is!” Marcus hollers across the kitchen, as soon as he spots you. “Damn. What am I gonna do with you?”

“Uh… keep doin’ what you’re doing and kill it?” you reply, eliciting a proud smile from him. 

“Seriously. This last week… I’ve learned so much from you. Thank you,” he says, his gratitude evident in his voice. 

“No, thank you, Marcus,” you answer, genuinely. “I haven’t felt this inspired in… well a while. I want to be kept up on all your new flavor pairings. Just remember. I’m only a text away.”

“Yes, chef,” he replies, moving in to give you a hug. 

He wraps his arms around you and you hug him back. Boy, is it bittersweet. How, in one week, have you gotten so attached?

“Hey! I want in!” another voice chimes in, as you and Marcus’ hug comes to an end. 

“Syd!”

You smile, greeting Sydney with a hug – a hello goodbye kind of hug.

“You better come visit me in New York,” you insist. You’re not sure how long you’ll be there, but you say it anyways, just in case it’s a while. 

You watch as Sydney and Marcus exchange glaces. 

“What?”

“Nothin’, chef,” Marcus answers, almost too quickly. 

Sydney shrugs, “I don’t know. Just uh, wondering how long you’ll be there for.” She’s prodding and she knows it. You decide not to ask what she means by it.

“Well, if it ends up being longer… than I expect, you better come up,” you clarify. 

“Okay, yes. I definitely will,” Sydney agrees with a nod, before pulling you in for one more hug. 

“Hey, cousin said you’re headin’ out so Ebra’s made you a sandwich for the trip, babe. We’ll see ya around soon,” Richie greets, interrupting your moment with Sydney and Marcus. 

Richie, whose affection seems to catch you off guard, slings an arm around you, handing you the sandwich that Ebraheim has so kindly wrapped up for you. 

“Cousin!” Richie shouts, in search of Carmy. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s ten in the morning. Are we already starting the yelling this early or-?” Carmy calls back to him. He bursts through the doors from where he’s been fixing something up in the front of house dining area. He stops as soon as he sees you. 

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you reply, taking in the image of his unruly curls, white t-shirt, and blue apron you've gotten so used to over the last few days.

It’s almost as if everyone else but Richie tries to make themselves as busy as possible – to give you two a chance to say goodbye. You can hear Marcus and Sydney making themselves scarce as Angel and Manny turn the sink water back on. 

“I just uh-, wanted to stop by before heading to the airport,” you say, unsure of just how much everyone else knows about you and Carmy’s current relationship. “Say goodbye to everyone.”

It’s clear that they know something’s up, but you still have your reservations about kissing him in front of everyone. 

“What do you mean?" Richie asks, glaring at Carmy. "This asshat’s not takin’ you to the airport?”

Richies practically shouting for the entire kitchen to hear, causing you and Carmy both to take a breath. You exchange a ‘here we go again’ look as Richie continues on.

“What kind of-, I swear to god, cousin-.”

“Richie!” you hear Tina snap, looking up from her prep station. “Shut the fuck up and give them a minute, you old bitch.”

Richie throws his hands up, before bowing out of the conversation, leaving just you and Carmy in the middle of the walkway. You can hear Richie and Tina bickering in hushed tones over by the stove, earning a quiet laugh from you. 

Your heart aches in the best way as you commit this moment to memory.

God, you're going to miss this. 

“You wanna..?” Carmy asks, nodding his head in the direction of the back door. 

You nod in agreement, letting him lead you back out to the alley. 

And now it’s really just the two of you, and while it’s not the most romantic of backgrounds, you’re going to work with what you’ve got. Carmy seems nervous as he fidgets with the ties of his apron. 

“You uh, you sure you don’t want me to take you to the airport?” Carmy asks hesitantly, thinking back to Richie’s earlier comment. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you answer with confidence. “Besides, I’d never want to take you away from these guys. You open in a few anyway.”

He smiles, accepting your answer. It’s something he loves about you: that you get it. You understand that sometimes the food’s gotta come first. 

You didn’t know why it felt so weird – so challenging, awkward, strange – to say goodbye to him. Because it wasn’t really a goodbye. And it also was and you’re not sure if you have a name for this feeling yet. 

“Carm?”

“Yeah?”

Instead of answering with words, you just reach over, grabbing that beautiful head of hair of his, and you kiss him. He tastes of the cigarette he smoked on his walk to The Bear and the Altoid mint he had later in his office in anticipation of your arrival. You want to memorize each and every part of this: the way he smells, the way he tastes, the way his hands feel on you. He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you as you continue your passionate make out – your passionate goodbye kiss – in the alleyway behind the restaurant. 

Your kisses begin to slow down, and before you know it, you’re pulling away from him. 

“Text me when you land, okay?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes. 

You nod, “Yes. Yeah. I will.”

And you want to turn to go, but you can’t yet, so you add, “Thanks for inviting me out here.”

He laughs dryly, leaving one more kiss on your lips for the road.

“Thanks for coming to see me. I’ll see you soon.”

A few Tuesdays later

It takes exactly five minutes of being back in New York to realize that Chicago is where you need to be. You don’t regret asking for time to think, but you almost felt silly to worry that you wouldn’t come to this conclusion. You have to go back: to the restaurant, to purpose, to Carmy.

You let yourself think through every little detail, and in each scenario, you know that Chicago is where you’re supposed to be. It had, afterall, been everything you’d felt you were missing. 

Your heart was there, and for once, you were going to let yourself follow it. 

You’d just needed some time to let your head and your heart catch up – get on the same page – and wrapping things up in New York gave you that time to get clear that this was your next step. 

Not that you mind letting the man you adored and some very hot sex cloud your judgment. 

It takes a few weeks, but you and Carmy text every day, even on the busy days. Some days you text a lot, and some it’s just a few exchanges: a ‘good morning’ text, a ‘thinking of you,’ and a ‘goodnight’ text when he’s wrapped up at the restaurant. But it doesn’t bother you. You know what it’s like. Other days, you’re able to sneak in a phone call… maybe even a FaceTime… and if you’re really lucky, you get to talk for hours before either of you realize it’s two in the morning and you should’ve been asleep a long time ago.

People are always coming and going in New York City. It’s why it’s not hard to find a sublet for your apartment, and once you’ve set the ball in motion, it feels impossible to backtrack. After you find the subletter, you tell the restaurant that you’re not coming back and they’re not happy with your decision. You tell them you’re moving to Chicago and only a few people left on staff understand why. Your friends who know you and Carmy aren’t surprised – just as you expected – and by the end of your happy hour catch up, they’re halfway to booking you a ticket to Chicago for that night.

Your parents on the other hand are less than ecstatic. They have more questions, more hesitations, and they want to make sure you’re thinking things through. You tell them that you have, that you’ve combed through every possible scenario, and each time you come to the conclusion that this is what you have to do. 

But they’re happy you’re happy. They say they’ve never seen you like this and you agree. You’ve never felt this way before either. 

You’ve got to stay just a little longer – make sure you can get all your shit sold or moved. Because you’re a responsible adult even when you hate being a responsible adult. It takes a few more days to get an available U-Haul, and you’re all packed up. You’d called Carmy earlier to tell him, but he’s not answering his phone. Sydney hadn’t been in touch either, so you figured they were slammed at the restaurant.

Holy shit. This is really happening, you think to yourself. 

With one foot over the ledge already, you’re off. 

Wednesday, again.

You’ve set him up so well that if he blows it, you’re gonna be pissed. All he has to do is be his normal, annoying, crass self. 

C’mon, Richie, you think to yourself, pleading with the gods that this goes the way you hope it will. 

As you’d told him your plan, he seemed more than happy to oblige. Just rile him up a little just to make the surprise that much better. Richie wouldn’t miss out on an opportunity like that, would he? You can hear shouting coming from the kitchen, and can tell your plan has been set in motion.

“Richie, what the fuck are you talking about? They said what? Who?” Carmy asks, frustratedly.

Yesterday’s dinner service was a shitshow. It’d been slower for lunch this afternoon, and he berates himself for being naive enough to think that he could catch his breath today. The last thing he needed after yesterday was some food critic coming into his restaurant to pick apart all of their hard work. 

“I don’t know, cousin,” Richie shouts back defensively, as if he has no other volume level than that one. “I don’t know if she’s a fuckin’ food critic or not but she sounded like one. Somethin’ about an overseasoned juice or whatever the fuck!” “Jus,” Carmy corrects. “It’s pronounced, ‘zjhoo,’ fucko. Not ‘juice.’ How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck if I care,” Richie mutters. “All I’m saying is you should go out there and give the pompous jack hole a piece of your mind.”

“Alright, if it’s going to get you off my back, I’ll do it!” Carmy snaps, having had enough of Richie’s shouting. “Just tell me where she’s sitting so I know who to talk to.”

“At the bar. Christ,” Richie sighs, removing himself from the conversation entirely as he steps away from Carmy. 

Carmy sighs in frustration. He removes his apron before hanging it on one of the wall hooks, then makes his way through the swinging doors that lead to the dining area. It’s still slow, even after the small lunch peak they’d just experienced, and there’s only one woman sitting at the bar. 

You.

It’s then the Carmy realizes he’s been set up. This was all just an act to get him out here – out to the front of house. His breath catches in his throat as he sees you sitting at the bar of his restaurant. You lock eyes with him, and he’s suddenly feeling much more nervous than he previously was. 

“Surprise,” is all you manage to get out, half apologetically.

He makes his way to the open side of the bar, stepping around it so that he can stand on the same side as you. 

“Hey,” he says, even though he’s practically speechless. 

“So uh…” he stammers nervously. Out of all the things he could say to you all he can think of is, “What’s this I hear about an overseasoned jus?” 

You shrug, a devious smile on your face and a sense of mischief in your eyes, “Well I had to come up with something that’d get your attention.”

“It worked. Consider it gotten,” he nods, a blush running all the way down his neck. “Wh-, What’re you doing here?”

He doesn't mean for it to sound so abrupt, but what he really wants to ask is: what does this mean?

You wait, taking half of a beat. 

“I… heard you might be hiring another pastry chef to… you know… help out around here,” you reply, nodding towards the kitchen. Carmy has no idea how you’re playing it so cool, and you’re not sure how you are either. 

“I-, I’d have to talk to Marcus first,” he stammers, matter of factly. His head is spinning, and he can’t breathe, in a good way this time. He can’t believe you’re here and half expects to wake up and realize he’s only dreaming. 

“Of course,” you nod in agreement. 

You pause again, wondering if he’s surprised in a bad way.

“I uh… I called,” you offer up, almost as an apology. 

“We’ve been slammed,” Carmy replies, taking a step closer to you. “And I passed the fuck out last night after service. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay! I-, I figured…” you chuckle, beginning to explain yourself. “I just wanted you to know that-, I mean the rental company had a last minute opening and it was gonna take a few more weeks to get another a U-Haul if I didn’t-. I didn’t intend on making this like… you know this big surprise or anything…”

“... but then I saw Richie first and uh, well, I couldn’t help fucking with you a little bit.”

He laughs, shaking his head at you, “So this was a set up?”

“Oh yeah.”

You stand up, out of the bar chair, taking a step towards him. You look around, noticing that the restaurant is mostly empty, save for a couple in a booth over by the window. 

“You never answered my question. About you. Being here,” Carmy starts, redirecting the conversation back to you. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up – needs you to say you’re here for good before he lets himself feel all of this excitement that’s bubbling up in his body.

“Right. I just came here to tell you that uh, I found someone to take over my lease in New York,” you start, seeing Carmy’s eyes light up. 

God, you’ve missed the way he looks at you. 

“And the urban garden I've been volunteering with… they got me connected with a spot here. Keep my head out of my ass,” you continue, eliciting another laugh from Carmy at your crude comment. 

“Natalie’s-, she and Pete are gonna help find a place too.”

You take another step towards him. 

“You talked to Natalie?” he asks, surprised. 

And he, towards you. 

You shrug, playfully teasing him, “She picks up her phone.”

“Right,” Carmy says shyly. 

If he had picked up his phone you would’ve told him that you were coming and he’s not sure what he would have liked more: knowing ahead of time, or this surprise. Fuck it. He doesn’t care how it happened. He’s just glad he gets to have you.

“I… had a lot of time to think on the drive and-,” you tell him.

“Uh oh,” he interjects, playfully. “That’s never good.”

You shake your head with a laugh, “Will you just shut up and let me get through this?”

He concedes to you, a soft smile on his face as he waits for what you’re going to say next, as you continue your whole boombox over head, throwing stones at the window love confession thing.

“I was thinking that maybe I’d stick around for a while… get a cat or something to keep me company on the days we just can’t stand each other,” you say. 

It’s not what he’s expecting to hear but he understands what you’re really saying. You want to be here. With him. You want to plant roots. 

With him. 

“A cat?” he questions.

“Well, yeah neither of us have time for a dog. We’re both gonna be too busy with the restaurant,” you answer, continuing this scenario you’ve got in your head.

“We?” 

“We.”

Another step. 

He waits for you to say more, but you both understand that anything else would be overcomplicating it. And suddenly you’re standing so close to each other that you’re grateful that there’s only two other people in this restaurant. 

“Does this mean-?” he begins to ask, trailing off toward the end. He looks down at the floor, wondering why he feels so shy. 

“That I packed all my shit up to move here? Yeah,” you reply, confirming his assumptions about where this was going. “When I got back, it took me about five minutes to realize that what I’ve been looking for-, I had it. For a week. Here.”

He looks back up from the floor, to you, his blue eyes staring into your soul. 

You take a pause once more, mustering up all the courage in your body to say what you need to say next. 

“I want to be here, Car. With you. If the offer still stands.” 

He looks at you, you speechless, because he can’t believe this is real. 

But this is real. You’re not dreaming, he reminds himself.

He opens his mouth to say something and all that comes out is, “You hungry?” And you’re shaking your head and laughing, hopelessly in love with the man standing mere inches away from you who can barely get out the words he needs to tell you how he feels. 

“Because I’m sure you’ve had a long trip and I can-,” he continues to ramble, his face inches away from yours.

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” you blurt out, impulsively closing the gap between the two of you. You press your lips to his, giving him the most passionate kiss you’ve perhaps given anyone, and he kisses you back.

Because he loves you too. 

And he never wants to let you go ever again. 

Your kiss is suddenly interrupted by the sounds of voices, cheers, and a few claps, splitting the two of you apart. You both turn to find the entire staff of The Bear, crowded around the door that leads to the kitchen, and peeking out. Tina’s got a proud smile on her face, while Richie is most certainly the one clapping. Marcus is saying an ‘oh shit’ to Sydney while she’s practically squealing at the two of you. 

You and Carmy exchange a look. He looks away, his face turning redder by the second, as you laugh. 

“I called it! What did I say? Did I say three weeks? I think I fuckin' said three weeks." Richie cries out in celebration, his fist pumping into the air in triumph, earning a groan of disappointment from Gary.

"Pay up, fuckos!"

“Wait, what?” Carmy asks, his brows knitted together in confusion. 

Sydney rolls her eyes, beginning to pull a few ten dollar bills out of her apron as Tina mutters an insult in Spanish

“You guys were-,” you start, searching the faces of your future colleagues.

“Betting on how long it would take for you to come back? Yes, chef. Yes we were,” Marcus answers, cheekily. “I said two weeks. Syd put her money on a month, but Richie said three.”

“I just meant that it’s not that easy to move! Not that you wouldn’t come back,” Sydney adds, justifying her guesstimate.

“I said she’d be back in a week,” Tina chimes in.  

“It was clear to us you’d be back. We just didn’t know when,” Gary informs, leaning up against the bar. 

“Well, that’s news to me,” you laugh, shooting Carmy a look that says ‘did you know about this?’

He shakes his head ‘no.’

“You two are also idiots. That was also clear to all of us,” Tina points out, earning a laugh from you and Sydney. 

“Never even cleared your work station, chef,” Marcus adds, nodding back towards the kitchen. “You can uh-, come join us when you’re ready.”

You watch as Marcus disappears, back into the kitchen, hearing the sound or Richie’s more than jovial chants that he was right. Tina’s yelling at him in Spanish and Sydney’s telling Richie to shut the fuck up. 

You’ve missed this. 

“I uh… gotta get back to work,” Carmy says, pulling you out of your head. The blush permeating his face has spread all the way down to his neck and he's not sure how he's supposed to continue the day like this. “Gotta wrap up lunch and prep for dinner.” But he gets to do it with you, so he's gonna figure it the fuck out.

He turns to you, holding out his hand. 

“You comin’ or what?”

You’re beaming as you take his hand, your heart pounding out of your chest. It feels like a beginning of something you don't have the words for, and you're very much okay with that. You're ready to throw caution to the wind and fearlessly dive in -- to take a leap -- as long as you get to do it with him too.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

the end.

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha

[rypnami]

getting sick headcanons

this has been in my mind (and drafts) rent-free for a while since i’m not feeling well so, enjoy 😊what the npcs would do if you were ill. gender-neutral! only the companions + garreth for this one; i don’t have a lot of every rn :(

sebastian: oh shit, you’re sick? you? the person who can do anything? what do you need? soup? tea? a hug? cookies? no, he’s not freaking out. YOU’RE freaking out! he’s fine and completely totally not worried. he’ll get nurse blainey, professor sharp- hell, if you don’t take it easy, he might carry you to st mungo’s himself. stay in bed and let him worry about you or he might have an aneurysm.

ominis: unlike sebastian, he knows how to keep a cool head. he’d still be worried beyond belief, even if you just had a simple cold, but he would know just what to do. fever? cold compress and a visit to nurse blainey. he’ll get a pepperup potion for you, fluff your pillows, anything you need to be comfortable until you feel better.

garreth: you’re not feeling well? why not try this potion he’s been working on? it’ll work this time, for sure! well, if you don’t want that, he’ll make his mum’s best recipe for chicken noodle soup, a staple of his childhood. you want to be alone and take a nap to recover? alright, but he’ll sit right outside the door until you wake up, probably working on another health potion idea. cuddles, kisses, whatever you need he will provide.

leander: he will probably get sick at the same time as you. weak immune system. he would put your needs first but honestly he’s kind of a useless lump when he’s not feeling well (endearing). he will hide under the blankets and cry. tell his mother he loves her because he’s a little drama queen who is convinced he’s dying. (ENDEARING). he will drag you into his pillow fort and you cuddle together until you feel better :)

natty: she’s the first one to notice you’re sick. you might not even realise you’re getting ill, but she’s right on it. you’re going to go take on a poacher camp today? well, haven’t you noticed your nose has been a bit stuffy lately? maybe you should sit by the fire and let her handle it this time. she’s ready with a blanket before you even realise you have the chills. she doesn’t need her mother’s crystal ball to see what’s coming when you’re unwell. just listen to her intuition- she definitely knows best.

amit: give him a minute. he’s sure he’s read in a book somewhere how to make a cure for whatever is ailing you. even better than pepperup potion. eh, probably. other than that, he’ll sit by your bed, make you some soothing tea, and read to you. the next day, he will probably also be sick, and then you can return the favour :)

poppy: she would have no idea what to do. if you were a creature, she’d be in her absolute element, but she’s still not so great at interacting with people, and she will flounder. just… go lay down for a bit. she’ll get the nurse and make sure you’re very well taken care of <3

[jo-harrington]

Corrective Action (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader and Eddie have been hanging out for a little while and a lot of people seem to think it’s ok to voice their opinion around her.

Previous Part: Interview Prep

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Bullying, manipulative/helicopter parents, ACAB, all around shitty people that might trigger some things. Thick skinned reader who is sick of said shitty people. Sad boy Eddie. Hurt/Comfort. Pinky promises.

Note: I really hope this one is good guys, I feel like I wrote half of this in an airport wishing I was actually drinking (I did and I was, but I'm sober and kind of currently wishing I wasn't). If this is me fishing for compliments...I guess this is just yummy bait.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager (in chronological order because I’m chaotic and I’m not gonna stop writing this way) and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

It started with Stacey at work.

You were sitting at the little desk in the stockroom, working out payroll and the next schedule, when she came to clock out.

“Hey, good job today on upselling diamonds,” you told her, incredibly proud. While she was great at customer service, she really had a hard time getting customers to add to their basket. You had worked on coaching her and she was quickly becoming your best sales associate. “I’m proud of you, you’ve been doing so great!”

“Yeah thanks! All of these rich PTA moms I swear to god,” she rolled her eyes. “I guess my mom was only a hard ass if I asked her to buy me things though. If anyone else tried to sell things to her, she always caved.”

She continued going on about her mom getting all the upgrades when she got a new car.

“…Mr. Harrington almost started singing when she finally signed the lease.” She laughed but then sobered up, glancing around the stockroom to see if anyone else was around. Stacey cleared her throat. “Hey I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“What’s up?”

“Are you, like…dating Eddie Munson?”

It would have been an innocent enough question if not for her tone. Or the way she grimaced and scrunched her nose, as if just saying his name put a bad taste in her mouth.

Eddie had been wary of your interactions with Stacey from the beginning, you recalled. And when you had asked him why later on, he beat around the bush a little before giving in.

She was someone who had been in his classes for as long as he could remember, she was not a cheerleader but certainly one of the popular girls, and when her jock boyfriend got a job at the local insurance office after missing his chances at getting an athletic scholarship, she stayed behind too and made all of the local gossip her business.

And for some reason, even if he swore he never remembered saying more than two words to her at any given time, she made rumors about him her specialty.

You’d been at a loss. On the one hand, you knew Eddie dealt with bullies and rumors even if he never outright admitted it to you. But on the other, you had no reason to distrust Stacey. All you knew about the people you worked with were just what they told you and what you were able to witness while working together. And you knew Stacey engaged in all sorts of gossip. But Eddie’s name had never exited her mouth.

Until now.

“What?” You were so shocked at the entire scenario that you didn’t even realize she would take that as an invitation for her to continue.

“Well he’s been hanging around the store and I’ve seen you guys sitting together sometimes. But like…well, haven’t you heard?” She got closer and sat in the chair next to you. “He, like, sacrifices virgins in the woods and has, I don’t know, summoned demons before. He’s a Satanist, a freak.”

You bristled at the name-calling and the accusations.

“Stace—“

”And you’re new so of course you don’t know—“

“Stacey I’m gonna stop you right there,” you held up your hand and she immediately shut up and sat up a little straighter. “First of all, it is incredibly inappropriate to ask me about my personal life. About any aspect of it, outside of what I willingly share with you. I am your boss, I’m not your friend, this isn’t high school. We are all entitled to privacy and I am incredibly uncomfortable discussing this with you.

“Second, again not that you need to know, but no. I am not dating Eddie. Eddie works here in StarCourt and you make friends with people when you work at a shopping mall. That being said, Eddie is not only an employee at StarCourt, but also a human being and a neighbor to all of us—”

“Ew no he isn’t. He lives in that—“ she started but you weren’t having any of it.

“And because of that he deserves some respect. Calling someone a freak and spreading rumors isn’t respectful. Which leads me to the last point.

“One of the values of this company is integrity. Doing the right thing, even if it’s hard to do. And I’m sorry but bullying, under any circumstance, is not the right thing to do. So even though you are off the clock, you are still on company property and you are certainly not operating with integrity. I’m incredibly disappointed that I have to have this kind of conversation with you, but I will consider this a warning for next time.

“If I hear talk like this coming from you again, there will be disciplinary action,” you concluded. “Do you understand?”

You hated to do it, you hated to put on the manager pants. You hated that Stacey’s eyes welled with tears the longer you talked and that she trembled as she finally nodded. But even if Eddie wasn’t your friend, you wouldn’t condone this kind of behavior. You held your team to an incredibly high standard and this wasn’t it.

You sent Stacey home and got back to the schedule with a sour taste in your mouth.

---

The next time, you were actually out with Eddie.

He had told you that the sunrise at the old quarry was second to none and when you confessed that you had never actually watched the sunset or the sunrise before, he immediately figured out the best day for you to go together.

He had put together a picnic with all sorts of breakfast foods, because apparently no one made pancakes, bacon, and eggs better than he did—

“Got an A+ in home ec, thank you very much. Didn’t help me get my GPA up but Wayne is pretty happy when I have breakfast waiting for him after a double shift.”

—and treats from the gas station since he insisted that you needed to experience all of the convenience food he loved. There was a thermos full of coffee and a boat load of blankets in the back of the van. He picked you up at your apartment, ringing the bell at ass o’clock in the morning looking way too energetic for someone who woke up so early.

“What do you mean? I never went to sleep!”

The radio was low as he drove you towards the outskirts of town; he’d also surprised you with a replacement of your old Boston cassette that you had nearly played to death, and he hummed along and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel along with Foreplay.

You reached a certain sign on the road signaling the quarry was up ahead, only for the tell tale lights and “whoop whoop” of a squad car to sound off from behind you. Eddie cursed and pulled off to the side of the road.

“Sweetheart can you grab me, uh” he motioned for the glove box. You’d already popped it open and dug through to find his registration as he pulled the wallet from his pocket. “Thanks.”

The crunch of gravel caused Eddie to look at this side mirror and groan a low, drawn out “fuck.”

“Munson,” the officer greeted roughly once the window was rolled down.

“Callahan,” Eddie replied. “Hopper got you on traffic patrol now huh?”

“Very funny,” Callahan deadpanned. “You know why I pulled you over.”

“Actually I don’t,” Eddie chuckled dryly. “License plates are up to date, I wasn’t speeding, and that tail light you busted last time you pulled me over is fixed.”

What the fuck?

"I don't like the tone you're taking with me, kid," Callahan spat. "Not a respectful bone in your body, any time I have to pull you over. It's for your safety after all. And the safety of the entire town."

How many times had this guy pulled Eddie over? 5? 10?

“Anyway, we just broke up a party over in Loch Nora about an hour ago, lot of kids high and wasted,” Callahan continued and there was no way you could have guessed the words that were coming out of his mouth next. “I know how you like to hang around parties like those, do a few deals. Maybe you decided to take advantage of some pretty girl who doesn’t know where she is.”

Callahan leaned down a little further and shined a flashlight into the van, directly at you.

“How you doing tonight miss? Can you tell me your name please?”

Your world was shaken to the core.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, clenching your fists.

“You got your wits about you, or do I need to call an ambulance or something? Maybe your mom, if she needs to come pick you up?”

“I’m fine, officer, but I don’t like what you’re implying about my friend here.” You responded harshly. “Or about me. I am a grown woman, I am in this van of my own volition, with full mental capacities other than the fact that I’m maybe a little tired because I just woke up 20 minutes ago to go see the sunrise with my friend.”

Callahan stumbled over his words for a second, immediately backtracking as Eddie sat speechless in the driver's seat.

“We were never at a party in Loch Nora. Eddie didn’t kidnap me. Neither of us are drunk or high. So I’m pretty sure this is an unlawful traffic stop officer,” you concluded.

Both officer Callahan and Eddie looked at you with dumbstruck expressions.

“What, it’s true. So unless you have another reason to have pulled us over, officer?” You asked. “Can we be on our way now?”

He cleared his throat and handed the license and registration back to Eddie.

“Must have seen another van outside the party. An easy mistake to make,” he replied. “Got yourself a smart girlfriend there, Munson. Don’t fuck it up like you usually do ok?”

Callahan did another “whoop whoop” before pulling away and heading back to town, but Eddie continued to sit stiffly, refusing to move.

“You ok?” You asked, putting a hand on his arm.

“I can’t…he didn’t…” Eddie stumbled over his words. “I’m not like that ok? I don’t…I don’t take advantage of girls at parties. Fuck. Please don’t think—”

“I didn’t,” you assured him.

“Callahan always has it in for me, man,” He explained. “I don’t even know what I did. Caught me smoking weed on school grounds with the guys one summer way back and it was like a permanent target was placed on my back.”

“Small town cops with a big ego,” you explained, knowing fully well how douchebags like that were. “And you’re the resident bad boy.”

“You gotta stop calling me that,” he groaned in, what you believed to be, embarrassment.

---

And it kept happening.

Whispers when you went out for pizza, eyes watching you at the grocery store with pity or disgust, you didn’t know for sure. The one time you both stopped in Montgomery Ward on lunch to get a new dress (and for Eddie not to spend his lunch alone) and the saleswoman kept hovering as though you were about to steal.

Well, not you. Eddie.

No one usually dared to say anything to your face but you could still hear it. “She hangs around that Munson boy. Ugh such a troublemaker. Poor girl. Someone should tell her. He’s a trickster, that one.”

And no, you knew it wasn’t everyone. Just the busybodies who didn’t know what they were talking about.

You’d usually roll your eyes and continue on with your day. You could take whatever was thrown your way—some people just sucked and they couldn’t keep their mouths shut—but you knew how it affected Eddie. You could see it when you were with him, how deflated he became.

Your friend, one of the best people you knew, regardless of your stupid crush on him. He became distant, shrunk like he wanted to take up less space in the world.

You just about had enough of it.

And it all came to a head one day, a week after you hired Chrissy Cunningham as a part-time associate.

Her mother dropped her off after Cheer camp one day and wanted to see the new store.

You had a pretty solid parent policy that you made known to your teenage associates, just as your old store manager did when she first hired you at 16. Parents could come in and visit, shop, sure. But they weren’t going to interfere with the business. No calling to complain if the schedules conflicted with family nights. No calling in sick on their kids behalf.

“If you’re old enough to take on the responsibility of a job, you’re taking all of the responsibilities, ok? Even the not so nice ones.”

Chrissy, just like the others, understood.

Chrissy’s mom, on the other hand, had a bit of a problem with that.

You were nice enough when they first got in, getting to hear how the whole family was so excited about her first job, how it would look great on college applications come Fall. Chrissy, of course, had told you all of this in her interview; she was a sweet kid who clearly was trying to take on a lot and once you met her mom, you understood where the pressure was coming from.

Your mom was like that too, in her own way. Picking and picking and picking.

“Oh actually,” Mrs Cunningham started and from her tone you knew it was just going to be the beginning of a whole to-do. “I was meaning to ask if Chrissy could change her schedule? I saw you had put her on Saturday afternoons. But there’s a junior cheer team at the park district that she helps coach and they have meets on the first Saturday of the month.”

The too-big, overly-whitened smile was an unspoken threat of “you’re going to give me what I want or else.”

You explained that weekends were a mandatory availability for your associates who were still in school, but it didn’t mean they would always be scheduled. You had already told Chrissy that you would give her the days of her meets off, if she let you know the dates at least 2 weeks in advance. It was only once a month, after all.

That smile fell, like it always did, when someone like Mrs. Cunningham, like your mother, like all the other Stepford-wife types in town, didn’t get their way.

She tried once again to explain, this was important to Chrissy and she could trade Saturdays for another day. Maybe Thursday afternoon? Only if she didn’t have too much homework, of course.

But there was no way to know that when you were writing the schedule two weeks out, you argued.

"Then I guess you'll just have to find a replacement for her shifts if she can't come in," Mrs. Cunningham argued.

“Ma’am, I leave the responsibility of schedule and availability to my associates when I hire them,” you explain. “Not their parents. You said you were excited for Chrissy to have a job. It’s only been a week. If she thinks she can handle Saturdays—or even if she doesn’t—I’ll leave it up to her. School hasn't even started yet; let's just give it some time before we try to make changes ok?”

And as one does when they feel attacked, she went after low hanging fruit.

“I wouldn’t expect you,” she sneered, “to know a whole lot about responsibility…or planning ahead for the future. You work in this little shop; it's not even a real job. I’ll bet you didn’t even go to college.

“And Chrissy said you’re friends with the Munson boy right? That he shows up sometimes to talk to you. He’s never known a day of responsibility in his life. He’s…he’s a drug dealer, a troublemaker—”

“Alright that’s it,” you interjected. “This is a place of business—my place of business—and we’re getting busy, so I will have to ask you to leave Mrs. Cunningham. Unless you want to stay for a piercing, I do have paying customers to tend to. I will discuss the schedule again with Chrissy. I promise.

“But for now, thanks for stopping by, it was so nice to meet you.”

---

“God she was such a bitch,” you complained as you watched Eddie throw cardboard boxes into the bailer.

This was typical for lunches spent together. You would both run trash down to the loading dock and complain about work while Eddie smoked—allowing you to luxuriate in his secondhand smoke for a little while—and then you would head to the food court to eat and just…spend time together.

Listen to music, talk about movies or books or whatever else came to mind.

This friendship was still new, there was plenty to talk about.

You kind of hoped there would always be something new to talk about. And that you two would be talking and having lunch together for a long time.

Best not get your hopes up though.

Currently, you were recounting the interaction with Mrs. Cunningham, purposefully leaving out the way she brought him into conversation.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Right?

“Poor Chrissy,” you sighed.

“Poor Chrissy?” Eddie scoffed. “Yeah, really sucks to be on top.”

“You know, she might be on top at school—”

“And her family might be rich, and she might live in a big house, and she might only need to work so it looks good on college applications. See where I’m going with this?”

“—but it sucks to have a parent constantly shitting on you. Even if they do it for ‘your benefit...'.”

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

“I stayed at home with you kids and this is the thanks I get?”

“I can’t make you respect this family. But don’t you have any self-respect?”

Maybe you were just projecting...

“Speaking of Queen Bee, here she comes now with her lover boy,” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes dramatically, and then he made a gagging noise. You were exiting the service corridors and spotted Chrissy, who had clocked out for the day, walking towards the food court with a very clean, athletic-looking blond boy.

“Now if you wanna talk about a bitch, look no further than Jason Carver.”

He proceeded to tell you all about how Jason and Jeff were neighbors, how they used to be friends as kids. How they stopped talking once Jason started up with sports, and he started picking on Jeff once he made varsity.

“He had some macho, roided up growth spurt last year, and that paired with the self-righteous bible thumping meant that Hellfire was an easy target. Those meathead jocks picked on us before, sure, but…I dunno, Jason is a whole other level of cruel. 

“And he doesn’t hesitate to beat up the younger kids, but if I’m around…well needless to say they’re a little scared of me, they don’t want to take a chance that I’ll put a curse on them or something.

“I’ll do whatever I need to, I’ll be their villain, if it means keeping those kids safe.” He rubbed the sleeve of his flannel against his nose and sniffled lightly. “But it’s not like there’s anything I can do aside from that. I have to just sit there and take it, let my friends take it, because if I don’t…if I don’t, then I become everything they say I am. Angry, dangerous, a menace, a criminal.”

“Eddie that’s terrible,” you grumbled, Chrissy’s mom and your own troubles forgotten. "You don't deserve to be picked on like that."

Eddie hummed in contemplation for a moment.

“Ok enough of them, do you want to share chili cheese fries?” He diverted. You hesitated, not wanting to drop the subject entirely, but also not wanting to push him. Eddie flashed you those big, pleading eyes, though, and you caved.

Asshole knew exactly what he was doing.

“Sure,” you smiled.

“And you’ll let me buy today,” he continued, holding his hand out before you could argue. “Because you feel bad for me you’re gonna let me do it.”

“What logic is that?!” You exclaimed. He giggled maniacally and motioned for you to find a table before he practically skipped to the line to order.

He was lucky that he was cute.

---

Chrissy approached you the next time she had a shift together; you were planning to pull her aside at the end of her shift to double check that she was sure about her availability and to go over the parent policy once again. It was kind of a relief that she took the initiative instead.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” she began timidly. “She shouldn't have come in here just to interfere. It's just that I do have a lot going on, and when I told her I wanted to work at the mall too...well, she just..."

"Chrissy, I understand," you interjected. "Really I do, you don't need to explain. I knew when I hired you that you had a lot on your plate."

"Thank you again, by the way."

"I just want to make sure that you're sure this is the right move. Do we need to look at your availability again?" you asked. "If your mom comes back to have this conversation again, I'm not going to stand for it. I need employees who are responsible for their own time."

"No I know..." she sighed. "I'll talk with her. I really do like working here."

"I like having you work here," you reassured her. "You're doing a really great job so far."

"R-really?" she smiled, eyes getting a little glossy. "Thank you. I'm trying. My mom...never seems to be happy with anything I do. If it's not what I do, it's how long it takes, and if it's not that, then it's how I look, and--" She was starting to breathe a little heavily and you sighed.

"Hey listen, I get it," you said gently. "Mom's...well, sometimes they can be the worst. They know exactly what buttons to push. And I don't want to sound insensitive because I want you to know you can talk to me any time, I'm here for you. But we are on the sales floor.

"I know your shift is almost over, if you want to take a few to go in back and settle down before you leave, you can," you encouraged her. It wasn't a busy day; you could afford to give her a few extra minutes to herself.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, Mindy will be back from lunch in a few and I can come and grab you if I need you."

Chrissy gave you a watery smile and then headed back into the stockroom.

There were a few minutes of restocking bracelets before the shop bell rang as a new customer walked in.

"Hey! Welcome in!" You greeted brightly, mindlessly, before looking up to find Chrissy's boyfriend standing there. He smiled and nodded in greeting.

"Hey, I'm here to pick Chrissy up," he explained.

"You're a little early," you laughed, trying to be cordial despite Eddie's words about him echoing in your mind. "She's just in back finishing up. I'll let her know you're here."

"Nah, that's ok," Jason shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you really quick."

You frowned at him and narrowed your eyes.

"Boyfriends unfortunately don't qualify for the employee discount," you stated lightly, hoping that this was the only thing he had to ask. "So if you have a little sister or something--"

"No, it's about Eddie Munson," he continued. "You really need to stay away from him."

Yeah. That was exactly what you were afraid he would say.

Ugh, you were really getting tired of this.

And it wasn't just that you were sick of people meddling, it was this boy in particular who was really rubbing you the wrong way. Gossipy sales associates with jock boyfriends, useless troublesome cops, nosy housewives, and well-meaning grandmas were one thing.

But a high school boy who was still wearing a letterman jacket in July, with a too nice smile and the audacity to have a savior complex when he was the one tormenting other kids?

That was where you drew the line.

You just wondered if you were willing to lose your job because of him.

“I'm telling you this for your own good. The crowd he’s a part of…,” Jason leaned closer as though it was a secret. “They’re a bunch of wastoids, listening to that devil's music, trying to lure virgins into the woods to sacrifice. And if you want to sit with the right crowd at lunch when school starts--”

You barked a laugh at this, right in his face, and he backed away looking confused.

Ok, so this wasn't "lose your job" worthy.

You mentally pulled on both your Disappointed Older Sibling and Angry Store Manager pants to gear up for this fight.

"Ok kid, real talk," you started, clapping your hands like a coach would. "I'm not in the business of yelling at teenage boys. And as flattering as it is that you might think I'm still in high school, there is no way a teenager would be managing a store. So there's point number one. Number two, don't assume a lady's age ok? At all. In either direction. That's a life lesson I'm gonna give you for free.

"Number three, and not that this conversation isn't...just really lovely, I need to get a point across and I'm sincerely doubtful you're gonna listen to me anyway. I just need you to understand that...like, whoever is hanging out with who, or going where, or doing what, is generally none of your business. Especially your girlfriend's boss. It's really disappointing that a nice boy like you is gonna cause his girlfriend to lose her job because he can't mind his own business."

And that was the punctuation at the end of the sentence to make him look nervous and a little sweaty.

You felt a little bad saying it, because no, you weren't going to fire Chrissy because of this dumb boy. But hopefully this would be a lesson learned.

"E-e-eddie was hanging around Chrissy the other day," he stuttered, looking extremely out of his element. Never been the person who had to face consequences before; you knew the type. "I saw him in here when I came to pick her up. She said...you were his friend and he was just waiting for you."

"I'm sure he was waiting for me."

"He always had crushes on the cheerleaders," he explained. "He was sniffing around this girl Julie a few years ago and she found out he was into this satanic stuff...I figured either you or Chrissy were next..."

"Oh buddy," you sighed. "And you figured if you came in here and told me not to hang around him, I would be spared...and Chrissy would be too?"

"See? You get it."

"Except that's really not how things work in real life or at a shopping mall, kid," you said. "Everyone is allowed to go wherever they want and talk to whoever they want. And I, as one of the managers in this building, am able to assess what is a danger to myself and my employees and Eddie certainly isn't one of them. Except for his corny jokes, he is harmless.

"You on the other hand," you continued, savoring the moment Jason's eyes got a little wider. "Approached me with a very distinct and threatening energy. So unless you want me to call mall security and make sure you are no longer allowed on the premises, I will need you to...re-evaluate your tone of voice and your intention of visiting.

"So, what was your name again?"

"J-Jason Carver, ma'am."

Ew. Ma'am. Ok you weren't that old. But you could deal with it.

"Jason Carver," your tone changed immediately, back to the sickening Store Manager voice you defaulted to on a regular basis. Eddie had called it unsettling before, to hear you go from your regular tone of voice to that. Jason's eye twitched and you grinned maniacally. "It's so nice to meet you. Chrissy was telling everyone it's your anniversary coming up?"

His eyes shifted slightly, and he laughed nervously.

"Ye-yes ma'am," he agreed.

"And what are you planning to get her as a gift?" you asked. He froze again. Ok, no gift; Chrissy definitely deserved better than that. "I think a necklace would be really lovely. Not from here, I can see you looking at the jewelry wall. But there's a really nice jewelry store downstairs that has birthstone pendants and stuff. I think she would really love something from there."

"I-I think that's a great idea," he nodded vigorously.

The door to the stockroom opened and Chrissy walked out with her bag in hand, ready for you to check it.

"Ok, I'm all set to go then, thank you so much for--Jason!" Chrissy smiled when she saw her boyfriend. "I thought you were going to wait for me downstairs."

He cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Figured I would come up and surprise you," he grinned smoothly. "Met your boss, she's...really cool, just like you said."

Nice save.

Ok maybe he wasn't as stupid as you originally thought.

Chrissy waved goodbye as they left, and Jason had the right sense to keep his mouth shut.

---

You waited outside Tape World as the mall started to slow down and get dark. There was a little coin-operated horse right outside of the store and you leaned against it and wondered, if it was a real horse, how fast it could take you and Eddie out of this shit hole of a town, away from all of the people who said horrible things.

You had nothing to complain about though. Eddie had to deal with it for years. He did so much to protect his friends...all you wanted to do was to protect him too.

The gate opened up and Eddie ducked underneath, grinning at you once it was locked and he was upright once again. He muttered a quick goodbye to the associate who closed with him before he approached you.

"Hey, it's only Thursday," he laughed. "Did I forget we had plans? I thought you opened."

"No, I was a mid," you shrugged. "But I stayed because..."

Should you tell him? You didn't want to upset him, or have him pull away from you, like he always did whenever talk of his reputation around town was mentioned. You wanted your silly, carefree, wonderful best friend not to have to suffer because of narrow minded people anymore.

"Beeeccaauuuuseee." He hums for a moment. "Because you knew that I was planning a Little Debbie taste test for Sunday and that all of the snacks were in the van right now?"

"What?" you laughed. "Oh my God."

"You said you were more of a Hostess person. I am trying to change your allegiance to the Dark Side of the Force." He stood taller, theatrically trying to mimic Darth Vader. "What better way than with a joint or two and a shit ton of snack cakes at the lake."

"Eddie!"

"What? Don't tell me you have never smoked before," he said in mock offense. "What rock have you been living under? I'm going to have to call your parents, young lady. They did too good a job raising you."

You stared at him for a minute as he laughed and you couldn't help yourself; you quickly closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his waist. He went stiff for a second before placing one of his arms around your shoulders and his other hand on the back of your head.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. "I mean, I know I did good with the Little Debbie, but you don't have to smoke if you don't want to. I was just kidding."

"No, it's not..." you sighed.

Hugging Eddie was nothing like hugging a girl friend--all squeezes and giggles over something silly and stupid--or hugging a relative--stiff and a little cold, your family not really ones for outward affection to begin with. He was just the right hug shape, his arms at the right height, the right length to wrap around you. His cheek at the right height to rest on the top of your head if he really wanted to (which you really hoped he did). His stupid waist that was perfect for you to wrap your arms around and soft enough that you could squeeze a little bit and he would actually give instead of just stiff and there.

An Eddie Hug was a perfect hug.

And hopefully your hug was perfect for him too, so that it wouldn't hurt him or scare him away as you told him...

"You remember last week?" you began. "You said Jason Carver is the biggest bitch I'd ever meet?"

"Y-yeah," he replied hesitantly, getting a little stiff in your arms, but he did nothing to pull away from you.

"Well, I met him and he is," you continued.

"What did he do?" Eddie asked, irritation evident in his voice. "If...if he did something, said something to you, I swear to God I--"

"I handled it," you cut him off. "He tried to scare me away from you. He said...well, it doesn't matter does it?"

"I'm sure it's what everyone says about me."

"And I told him he could get fucked," you said.

"What?!" Eddie finally pushed you away from him, hands gripping your arms tightly, as he laughed. "No you didn't."

"No I didn't," you shook your head. "But I might as well have. I think I scared him."

"Did you do the creepy voice?" he asked.

"Yeah," you giggled.

"I fucking hate that," he shivered.

"One day, Eddie Munson, you will answer the phone with a 'y'ello' and you will forever be turned to the Dark Side too," you mimicked his Darth Vader impression. "Just you wait and see."

"Never, I would sooner die!" He threw an arm across his eyes dramatically and turned away from you. After a moment had passed, he stood up straight again, hands fidgeting at his sides. "So, uh, are we cool?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because everyone tells you to stay away from me," he shrugged. "That I'm no good. That I'm a freak. I've been hearing it all my life. But I don't think I could stand it if I heard it from you too."

"Eddie," you started, worrying at your lip for a second. "I know how soul crushing it is to constantly have to hear how bad you are, how you're never gonna live up to whatever expectations others have of you. But listen to me, and listen good: you are absolutely wonderful.

"A wonderful neighbor, a wonderful coworker, a wonderful friend. Who cares what other people think about you; who cares, even...what I think about you?"

"I care," he shrugged.

"But it doesn't matter how many people tell me that you're bad, I'm never gonna think that about you ok? You're so many things but you're also just...good. Ok?"

"Ok," he nodded, eyes getting progressively more watery by the second.

"And don't you start with the self-deprecating shit around me anymore either," you weakly swatted at his shoulder and his torso, and he laughed. "I can't take it. Only one of us can be a miserable piece of shit, and I'm older, so I have dibs."

"You're not a miserable piece of shit," he chuckled. "You're wonderful too."

"No more of this...sad sackery then? From either of us?" you asked and held out a pinky to him. "You can't break a pinky swear."

Eddie wrapped his pinky around yours tightly.

"No more. Upon punishment of death."

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04

Tag List (can I call you guys the Sales Associates? OMG, that's what it's gonna be): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytchh @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I'm sure I missed some tag requests, but I have been out of town with shoddy internet access so blame that, not me.