#I need to make a bunch more bracelets I want to just give them away again

[cloneboywonder]

[torialefay]

📞 “Bye Basket” 💬

bangchan x reader (f); drabble, fluff

✨summary: chan is leaving for tour, which means having to leave you behind. he makes sure to do for you what he can before he leaves.

✨wc: 900

✨warnings: none

• “Christopher, let me innnnn,” you pounded on the door of the bedroom you both shared.

• “Give me 1 more minute!” you heard him panic from inside.

• ‘What could he possibly be doing that he wouldn’t want me to see? I literally see his bare ass every day,’ you thought.

• He had been the perfect little boyfriend lately. Cooking meals, complimenting you 24/7, and making it a point to cuddle you for an hour every night. Hell- the two of you had just gotten back from a haunted house because YOU wanted to go. There’s no way Chan would have picked that shit.

• But he knew how much you loved Halloween. Even if he didn’t.

• He knew how this was your favorite time of the year. Even if it wasn’t his.

• And he also knew that he was leaving tomorrow. Even if he didn’t want to.

• Tomorrow he was headed out to begin his next world tour, and although you were so so proud of him, your heart hurt. How could it not?

• You actively tried not to think about it, but it was hard. You’d gone through it before, so you knew everything would be okay, but it definitely would not be fun.

• “Okay, okay, okay,” you heard Chan say as he waddled toward the door. He unlocked it and pulled the door wide open.

• “You good?” you asked, still confused as to what was going on.

• “Yeah, look!” he smiled, swooping both of his hands toward the bed in a grand gesture to focus your gaze there.

• You walked toward the bed to see a small basket resting on top. Inside of it was… laundry? Just a bunch of black clothes. Albeit very neatly folded black clothes.

• ‘Proud of him for that one I guess.’

• “What am I looking at?” you raised an eyebrow.

• “Wellll, I know you wanted a Boo Basket,” he tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes wide, putting on a look as if to say ‘See, I pay attention.’

“But I thought with me leaving, a Bye Basket would be a bit better.”

• You looked back down to the small basket in front of you. You carefully went through the contents.

◦ Your favorite of all of his black hoodies. You remembered how his ears had turned red when you told him how handsome he looked in it.

◦ A small roller ball of his favorite cologne. Classic Chan to get you your own. Hell, he loved it so much, he’d probably be excited if you just decided to wear it now. Scratch that, he’d love that his signature scent had become yours too.

◦ 3 packs of your favorite candy. I guess he was well-trained at this point. He immediately got them for you every time he went out to grab something- even if you specifically said you didn’t want anything.

◦ A heavy silver chain-link bracelet. You carefully examined it, thinking it was weird he’d think to give you this considering you already wore this exact one. The one he created that says “STAY” across the front. He wore it often too. ‘Weird’… You looked down closer.

No, this was a special one. It didn’t say “STAY.” Instead, in his own handwritten font, the inscription “CHRISTOPHER.”

◦ A small polaroid photo. It was one he had insisted on taking a few nights ago when you were cuddled up on the couch. He gave in and watched a scary movie with you. Obviously it was such a special moment to him that he was willingly watching one, so he needed it to be a memory.

◦ A black… battery? Charger?

• “What is this thing?,” you asked, looking up to Chan.

• “It’s a battery extender. For your phone! So even if you’re out all day, you can still answer my calls and let me hear that sweet voice,” he beamed, obviously proud of himself.

• “Channie, this is perfect. You didn’t have to do all of this!”

• “But I did. I’m so so so sorry I have to leave you, my love.” He sat down on the bed, pulling you along to sit on his lap.

• “I’m so sorry that my job takes me away from you, but hopefully this will help suffice until I get back.”

• You cupped his face and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll manage.” You couldn’t help but smile.

----

• After Chan had left the next day, you went home to sulk.

• First plan of action: put that hoodie on.

• As you unfolded it and went to throw it over your head, a white slip of paper fell out.

• The final gift in the basket: a letter.

◦ “If you’re reading this letter, then it means I’m probably gone. I want you to know that wherever I travel, a piece of your heart is always going there with me. I promise I miss you more than you will ever miss me. I can’t wait to get back home to you already. This isn’t goodbye for long. I will be back before you know it. Love you forever. -Channie.”

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[hell-bats]

earth 42!miles x gn!reader

summary: miles is very aware you love making bracelets, you would always have tons on your wrist with all sorts of beads and charms, you left a few at his house so he stops by to give them back, somehow you rope him into making some with you.

extra: mostly fluff, light swearing, reader listens to destiny’s child, reader is mean (playfully)

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notes: reader is black to me but anyone can read, and he’s been plaguing my brain as of recent it’s insane

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“I can’t believe you got me doin this” miles says his brows furrowed as he’s trying to put the thread through the shiny black bead.

he originally came by to drop off the multiple bracelets you left all over his room, everytime he sees you, you always got a row of them on your wrist, even one for every occasion, one of every color, every type of bead, any charm you can think of, it was impossible to find a variation you didn’t have.

now here he was, sitting on the carpet of your bedroom, criss-cross apple sauce with destiny’s child playing from your phone, the window slightly open for a slight breeze to blow in, as he’s attempting to a bracelet of his own.

“you need help over there?” you ask, holding back a smirk at his struggling, this comes easy to you, you’re on your fourth bracelet by now and it’s been only 15 minutes.

“nah I got it, just gimmie a sec” he says squinting as the thread misses the hole of the bead, his hands slightly trembling as he’s concentrated. you let out a laugh and scoot over closer to him, you can feel his warm body radiating and the smell of his cologne he always wears which made a fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

“I told you I got it” he says protesting, despite him clearly struggling. “ boy if you don’t let me help you..” you say rolling your eyes and taking it from him, you grab the bead and swiftly yet smoothly slide it on the thread, tying off the end to start it off for him. “see, wasn’t that easier?” you say with a smile looking over at him, inches away from his face.

he shrugs, “damn, you good with your hands I see” he says slyly, he was speaking practically in your ear, before getting another bead, slightly getting the hang of it but barely, this boy was gonna be the death of you.

“I see that you aren’t” you say back teasingly, you’re on your last bead getting ready to tie the knot to finish it, this would be your fifth bracelet. “ you tryna bet on that?” he says smirking at you, giving that smug smile he loves to do knowing the effect it has.

“you must want me to throw you out?” you say, trying to ignore him, he gives a chuckle before shaking his head lightly and his eyes practically piercing through you the way he’s staring at you, he shifts the way he’s sitting “you know you love me, but seriously.. this a real talent you got, don’t lose it” he says, his voice laced with sweetness and playfulness to it.

“might have to keep some of these too” he says eyeing the extra bracelets you have laying around on the carpet along with some of the variety of charms, picking one up that had a dark crimson red color to it, each had their own look, he didn’t mind, it’s the fact they were yours,your creations that he loved so much and he loved seeing how happy it makes you.

“you can get a few, don’t break them cause I ain’t gonna make you more” you say sounding pretty serious as you give him a look narrowing your eyes.

he hums at that before speaking “the ones still lying around my room you made, begs to differ but it’s ight” he says with a small smile before getting up and flicking your forehead lightly to look at your collection of bracelets, definitely taking more then what he came with.

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end of this little drabble 😭🫶🏾, if you did make him a bunch he’d make sure to wear every single one, not at once but he’d switch through them and would definitely say you made em if someone asked.

[hawkinsbnbg]

hit me baby one more time

prompt: one | word count: 1111 | rated: E | tags: daddy kink, spanking, breeding kink, barebacking, creampie, pet names, one-night stand to fwb to lovers, mutual pining | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

This was getting out of hand.

Because Eddie Munson never did repeat.

And somehow, he kept coming back to Steve Harrington’s doorstep, promising himself ‘This will be the last time’, then repeating the same dance and song until he just—

Stayed.

What had started as a one-night stand—simple and uncomplicated—had become something more, an undetermined relationship where Eddie was allowed to stay overnight instead of stumbling back to his place alone, where he woke up to stale breathed kisses and lazy morning sex, where he took turns making breakfast and eventually dinner with his fling (“man of your dream, muse of your soul, light of your life—” “Shut up, Gareth!”).

If anyone was to be blamed, Eddie would point at himself, albeit begrudgingly.

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, he was the one approaching the other man that night when he realized the former King Steve was sitting there in a BDSM club, wearing a crop top and snug jeans, lipgloss and eyeliners, so pretty that the bartender would be swept off by that infamous Harrington Charm soon if no one intervened.

So Eddie did. Walked up to his target of the night and cast his spell, wanting to take the guy down a peg or two, an overdue payback for his horrendous high school experience.

What he didn't expect was to be completely enchanted by Steve who turned out to be a sweetheart, who had gone under so beautifully, looked at him with so much trust and vulnerability, made him want to care, to cherish for the first time in his chaotic life.

Then one morning, when he blinked his eyes open and gazed at the pretty thing still snoring softly in his arms, it suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't walk away anymore.

And thus, the rest was history.

Steve seemed nonchalant most of the time, acting like they were just real close buddies whenever Eddie turned up, as if he hadn't been fucked stupid on every surface of his own apartment.

It thrilled Eddie how easily that indifferent façade would break under his command without resistance.

Eddie brought his hand down in another loud smack, eliciting a muffled sob.

“T– Thank you,” Steve mumbled, sounding soft and sweet in a way that made Eddie's heart clench. “Thank you, Daddy.”

For a moment, he took in the vision draped across his lap. Burgundy sweater bunched around the slim waist, white cotton yanked down to mid thighs, an anklet that matched one of Eddie's bracelets, pale skin and red hand shapes, Venus dimples and lean muscles, moles and freckles that dotted the smooth canvas like constellations.

A masterpiece.

He stroked those cheeks like kneading dough, enjoying the goods before giving it three reverberating smacks.

“How many do you need, baby?” He cooed as Steve started trembling minutely.

“Gimme ten,” Steve whined.

Eddie huffed fondly. What a spoiled brat. It was always ‘I want’ or ‘gimme’ and never ‘can I…?’ or ‘please’ , so needy and demanding all the time. But Eddie was at fault for being a pushover.

At least, Steve never forgot to say sorry and thank you. Would do everything to get praised. Always a good boy even when he tried to be a brat.

“Alright, we can do ten,” he tapped Steve's cheeks lightly. “Count for me, sweetheart.”

Then gave them ten swats in succession that were followed by Steve's strangled counting.

Steve was crying in earnest, face blotchy and lips bit red, when Eddie carefully flipped him over. But his eyes, god, his doe eyes were brimmed with tears, big and wet and drooped pitifully.

“Still good, little prince?” Eddie combed his fingers through the silky lock gently.

“Mhm,” Steve sniffled. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Eddie’s erection twitched and dribbled in the confines of his jeans. Cursing himself for being weak, he leaned down to capture those lush lips, swallowing every breathless noise that tried to escape between the tiny cracks of their mouths.

As wanton legs parted to welcome him and shaky arms wrapped around his neck, Eddie grew greedy, hungry, insatiable. He wanted to devour Steve, to ruin him for anyone else, to keep this beguiling creature away from the prying world.

Because Steve Harrington was a sunshine incarnation, apple pies and vanilla ice cream, honey buns and warm milk, maraschino cherries and chocolate cakes, divine and perfect everything.

Was it so surprising that Eddie wanted to hoard such a treasure even when he would be burnt to a crisp?

“Do you trust Daddy, baby?” He whispered, pecking the pretty face that blossomed in flush pink beneath him.

“Always,” Steve smiled, sweet and precious.

Utterly gone, he dropped soft kisses on Steve's eyelids, making those long lashes flutter like the butterflies in his stomach.

Then, he took care of Steve the way they were both familiar with. Drawing out those pretty moans and taking everything that Steve was willing to give him.

“Daddy,” Steve mewled, neck stretching to give hot lips and sharp teeth more access, quivering and drooling as his prostate was nailed precisely.

“My gorgeous baby,” Eddie groaned, tongue heavy and heart stuttering in his chest. “So good for Daddy, aren't you?”

“Yours,” Steve whimpered, hanging on him like a ragdoll as the pace turned brutal. “Make me yours, Daddy.”

And so Eddie tried his best. Worshiped his beautiful angel until he could taste those nectarine droplets, running down the apple of rosy cheeks and soaking pouty petals.

Eddie pumped him full over and over again, possessive and obsessed, unable to resist the temptation of knocking him up however impossible it was.

Once they were done for the night, he carried Steve into the bathroom for their joint shower, put Steve in a threadbare sweater and cute panties then threw on himself an old tee and boxers after they were dried up.

When they returned to the bed, he gathered Steve in his arms and ran his hand on Steve's back soothingly, whispering sweet nothings until Steve let out a quiet yawn.

“Sleep, baby,” he kissed Steve's forehead. “You have a morning shift tomorrow.”

“G’night, Eds,” Steve said drowsily.

“Sweet dream, my darlin’,” he kissed Steve's forehead again just because he could, just because he wanted to see that sweet smile.

Eddie watched the other man fall asleep against his chest, always unguarded and so trusting around him. It made him feel things he never entertained before. Made him want to listen to ABBA. Made him want to do chores and prepare meals with Steve for the rest of his life.

He let out a helpless sigh.

This was getting out of hand.

Because Eddie Munson had fallen in love.

[eyeritestuff]

Eddsworld x Reader Drabbles

———

Characters: Tom

Warnings: None! Might get suggestive though…

Author’s note: This’ll be split into parts :3 How many ? Idk !! I’ll edit this post to add the links if i ever get to it.

—————

First impressions

> Tom is of particular interest to anyone he encounters. He stands out, and not just because of his literal voids-for-eyes, but because of that damn attitude.

> In 2024, it’s addressed as the sassy man apocalypse, but universally, Tom is dubbed an asshole… amongst a bunch of other very colorful colloquialisms.

> When Tom chooses to speak to anyone, it’s not the accent that swings first, it’s the quickness of his “don’t care” response that uppercuts, and he relishes in watching people struggle to find the words to respond.

> For whatever fantastical and universal reason, when he came across you, things were different… and no, he didn’t change overnight because he saw you and it was “love at first sight”. More so, your ability to rebuttal his stupidity stood out.. and he wanted to know what made you.. you.

> Admittedly, when you met Tom, you were hooked. Something about having a taste for men with a less than stellar track record.. and that’s putting it lightly.

> The light and unintentional tan, the eyes, the dirty blonde hair, the piercings, the way the moles on his face were placed in an aesthetically pleasing way… need you go on?

> You pondered if he had any muscle to match the verbal punches he gave those around him.

> He definitely smells like alcohol.. but you’re also picking up the scent of ‘male manipulator’ cologne.. it’s soft but it’s there.

> Totally random, but are those fuzzy dice hanging off the side of his jeans? Amazing. Goes well with the mini harpoon gun keychain next to it.

> “..and this is Tom! Tom, say hi to y/n!” The taller boy in green motioned to the freak in blue, and you beamed as you waved at him. He came prepared, however, with an umbrella that naturally blocked your rays. In other words, he had a resting bitch face.

> Cliche, but you knew that if push came to shove, he cared about hurting others— he has emotions. You just didn’t know how much it would take for him to show them.

> You had all the time in the world… well! Technically, as much time as your landlord wanted to give you when renewing the lease. You and the three taller boys in front of you lived in the same complex. You needed a place to stay while studying away at uni.. and this place was perfect. The fact new friends came with it was a plus you didn’t really see coming.

>“Twiddling with your hair isn’t gonna make it grow any longer.” a gruff voice said. You looked up to match the voice with Tom. His voice sounds like he just woke up from a bad hangover, and honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the exact scenario. Considering, well…

> “And drinking more won’t make the problems any better,” you retorted and gestured towards him and his flask , “exhibit A.” The blue boy was taken a back, clearly by the way his facial expression illustrated confusion.

> “Some people do it for the fun of it.”

> “Some people should really pick up a book if they consider taking a swigs’ a hobby..”

> “Oh really?”

> “Make the book high school biology, yes.” what a nerdy response , you say you yourself.

> The two of you stared each other down. Honestly though, what was there to stare into? Trying to find his soul was like walking in the dark, really. Your peripheral vision caught the redhead and the green hoodie boy fidgeting in place, so you knew to stop here.

> To your surprise, Tom’s face then broke character with a smile.

> Oh.. his smile.

> Toothy, sly, and alluring. Your face was heating up. The way his lips curled.. it was something you wanted to see more often. It’s decided then.

> “You’re different, y/n, I’ll give you that.” You then snapped back into reality after feeling his hand land on your shoulder a little rough like.. especially since the spiked bracelet he wore on that hand jabbed a little into your skin.

> Make no mistake, you were attracted to him surface level. However, you wanted to know more. Little did you know he shared the same sentiment.

How did you find out

> Tom sucks at compliments. No, really! Especially when he’s crushing on someone.

> He doesn’t want anyone to find out. Which is code for he doesn’t wanna seem vulnerable to anyone. His rationale is if he were to compliment someone, that person and the others around them will get to thinking.

> You, however, are blissfully unaware.

> Tom sucks at hiding his feelings. Shit, he sucks at hiding anything in general. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, and then expresses them in a pretty fucked up way. So, no, your ignorance isn’t because he’s good at bottling things in. It’s because you’re genuinely empty in the noggin.

> Everyone around you knows. Tom knows everyone knows. It’s just better if he gaslights himself into thinking otherwise, it helps him sleep at night.

> Your presence amongst the group is almost a daily occurrence. Edd tries to throw hints, but they’re drowned out but Tom’s sudden outbursts.

> Sudden outbursts could range from burping, shouting vulgarities, injuring himself ‘by accident’ and then channeling his inner sailor some more, or punches to the arm of the messenger. You take your guess, he’s probably done the latter.

> Back to the compliments. There was a particular time where Matt and you decided to have a silly little shopping trip. His invite! You guys went around 10 in the morning, only to come back to Matt’s apartment around 8 in the night. To your surprise, you see Edd and Tom already comfortable on the couch. Tom was in a tight band t-shirt and some sweats, while Edd wore a silly creeper onesie.

> “How was the adventure you two?” Edd hums and smiles. You struggled with your bags and gently placed them down to the side. You had quite a few and your arms felt a wave of relief once you set them down. “I had so much fun! Matt was super helpful in my wardrobe cleanse mission.”

> Matt frowned slightly as he set his bags down and his hands magnetized to his hips, “ What’dya mean cleanse? We didn’t buy cleaning supplies!” You giggled at his empty headed moment and changed the subject.

> “Want a fashion show?” You smiled once you noticed Edd’s visible excitement at the prospect. You also couldn’t help but notice Tom shifting in his seat at the mention. You took a glance in that direction and decided to be a little direct.

> “How about you, Tom?” He cringed at your question. Again, not because of your doing.. necessarily… but because he was nervous. His head was being imaginative, put it like that.

> “…Whatever..” He mumbled, and you shrugged it off. Fashion show time!

> You and Matt were having fun doing silly poses and pretending to vouge. Edd was super encouraging, loved every outfit, and even clapping to the music that was playing. Tom, however, was sunken in the sofa with his arms crossed just glaring at the floor.

> Tom isn’t and wasn’t going to praise you. Again, he had a weird stigma about compliments.

> However, those lowrise bell bottom jeans with that studded belt and that fitted sleeved shirt in what he knows is your favorite color. He couldn’t help but stare at your waist and what little view of your chest your shirt had to offer.

> You noticed how Tom rose in his seat, and felt your face break into a sly smile at the realization that he was interested. His face screamed that sentiment. Everyone noticed it too, and it quickly got silent.

> You try to poke. “What’s with the face, nerd.”

> He deflected next. “You look stupid.”

> “Do I really?”

> “Not gonna repeat myself twice.”

> “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’ve piqued your interest.”

> “You fucking wish. I’d never be into someone like you. Honestly, you’re such an air—”

> “Hey Tom, your face is really red… are you okay?”

> “Yeah.. Tom… you look like you’re suffocating! I’ve never seen you so-”

> Tom threw up his hands in surrender and shouted “I’m out!” With that, he stood up and walked out. There was a brief moment of silence before there was a slam of the door. You looked back at your friends and sighed, “Sorry guys.. maybe I took it too far..”

> “Seriously..?” Matt facepalmed.

> “What..! I Already said s—“

> “What Matt means to say is, have you really not noticed yet?” Edd asked genuinely concerned. You looked at him and laughed awkwardly before realizing he was serious. “What’s.. what.. huh..? What did I do.. wait- what’s going on?”

> “Tom is whipped for you, y/n,” Matt exclaimed, “Even I knew that!” You felt your face heat up and your head whipped around to face both at them.

> “Huh..?” is all you could manage out before you focused on Edd.

> “Yes! He just doesn’t know how to express it.“ You swing your head to look over to Matt and begin to twitch, “He needs to figure it out then!”

> “That’s the thing y/n, he doesn’t do that all the time. It’s just with you. Sure him and I have our moments, and then there was Tord, but those two genuinely couldn’t get along. Have you not noticed that after your arguments how he hides his face-” Matt then interjects, “Or that time when it was your birthday, and he helped you clean cake off your face after arguing about how much of a slob you were,” Edd then copied Matt, “or when you had just failed your chemistry exam, and all you could do was sulk and watch My Little Pony, and so he stayed the night with you saying the excuse that-“ and in unison the two sung: “I’m bored, and terrorizing y/n sounds like fun.”

> You felt your face heat up recalling just those handful of moments. “I thought he was just being a friend…” you mumbled.

> “It would…! If it was anyone but Tom, of course.” Edd chuckled and shrugged. He was right.

> The MLP binge watch weekend should’ve been so obvious. I mean, come on, you two shared a throw blanket and your legs intertwined with his. Tom isn’t touchy with anyone. You had failed a chemistry exam, yes. It got especially emotional since that week you were already feeling homesick, and you had sacrificed phone time with your family to study.. and failure. When Tom came over, you’d cry everytime the episode had a familial lesson— it sucked. Next thing you knew, Tom put aside your one sided beef when he wrapped you into a tight hug.

> “Well what now…?”

> “Run to him!!!” Matt exclaimed dramatically.

> Do you even wanna give the punk rock boy a chance?

How did he find out

> Laying there sprawled out across his bed was Tom. His bed was the safe haven in the mess that was his room.

> Dirty room. Very Cluttered. Clothes scattered the floors, clean and dirty. It smelled like his cologne took a stroll through a bar.. minus the pungent scent of stomach acid.

> His bed consisted of his precious Tomee bear, two pillows with gray cases on them, and 6 blankets. Half of those blankets were throws, but still.. why so many blankets?

> Posters scattered across his room walls. Old band posters, classic anime franchises, and a few posters of video game crushes he had over the years. In the corner was a cluster of polaroids of all his friends! Yes, Tord included… and yes, even you.

> Tom found himself shifting his gaze from the white ceiling to that corner. There was a picture you took where he was caught mid laugh and you took the opportunity and posed with your polaroid. He loved that picture, to the point where he placed it in a position where it would be the first one his eyes went for. That day, he thought you looked the prettiest. Not like you don’t look pretty everyday, it’s just that one he appreciated because you were in bliss. All he could do that entire night was fight back a smile when you smiled, when you laughed, and when you looked at him with those caring warm eyes.

> “What am I thinking…” He groaned and threw his hands over his face. He wants to tell you, trust, he really does! He’s just.. afraid of rejection.

> It’s a pretty typical fear amongst many people. So he wasn’t alone. He just feels humiliated and embarrassed for having weaknesses. What if those feelings transferred to the relationship? Is there even a potential relationship.

> Gosh you were so pretty to him. He loved every detail about you. There wasn’t a moment he didn’t fantasize about you. He’d probably take you to a museum for a first date.

> Tom loves art. It’s kinda obvious. Unless you view music and art as separate catagories that never merge.. then I don’t know what to tell you.

> He noticed what kind of media you consume, which was a lot of animation, and he wanted to explore other genres with you on that first date. So what better place than a museum?

> There was a knock.

> It shook the man out of his fantastical wonderland, and he shot up.

> Tom has this terrible habit of opening the door without checking the peephole. Opening the door he found himself devoid of air coming face to face with the person in front of them.

> It was you.

> You weren’t wearing the outfit you were modeling earlier. To be fair it’s been about 2 hours since then. You were wearing a silly cat onesie, and in your hand was a reusable grocery bag. Unknown to him, you gambled on having a sleepover with him, and in your bag was a bunch of ingredients to make milkshakes.

> He didn’t have the energy to disguise the emotions he was feeling, and leaning against the door frame, he spoke to break the ice.

> “Uhh, what’s- What’s up ?”

> “Wanna have a sleepover?”, you smiled and shifted the bag to the front of your knees and grabbed it with both hands.

> “Uhmm..” he shifted off the doorframe and let out an unsure sigh. Grabbing the ends of his fitted band tee, he pulled and looked behind him.

> “If it’s a mess you’re worried about, I don’t mind! I can even help you clean up.” you offered.

> “Oh no- you.. you don’t have to do that. Uh. I’m down, I was just caught off guard because when you showed up I was zoned out.” he nervously laughed and opened his door wider, gesturing for you to walk in.

> You walked in and set the grocery bag down on the kitchen island to the left. He went straight for the bag and started snooping while you started picking up items to clear the space you were going to get comfortable in.

> “Smirnoff…?” He said in an almost childlike wonder way.

> “Ah, yeah,” you started, “I remembered it was your go to at bars, and I wanted to see how it would taste in a milkshake.”

> Oh you were perfect.

> “Also, Tom, We need to talk.. but don’t get mad with me.”

> Tom scoffed and turned around to start the dishes, “I could never be mad at you y/n, don’t be stupid.”

> “I don’t, actually. I feel like some of our bickers are not jokes.”

> “Well to clarify, I’m only teasing.”

> “Back to the point, Tom,” you started and he hummed in response, “I like you Tom.”

> No.

> “Yeah me too y/n. You’re fun to be around.”

> “Nono, Tom, I mean.. romantically.”

> The sound of dishes stopped with a crash of glass. Nothing broke, but it was loud enough to startle you.

> You stood up and turned to look towards Tom to see him standing there with wide white eyes and a red face.

> “What..?” He said like a child, and it made you laugh.

> “Yeah, I love being around you, I like your presence.. albeit I could live without the insults, but I love your sass and your jokes. You’re funny, you’re pretty, and I wanna know more about you.. more than the Tom I know.”

> “y/n.”

> “Yea?”

> “I don’t even know what to say in this situation, but know I do feel the same. I feel strongly..? If I could jump off the walls like a damn molecule, I would. Y/n, I really like you too.”

> “Oh what a relief. For a second, you had me believing that the boys were wrong.”

> Tom laughed.. out loud. It made your heart melt because it was a genuine one for once, “You dummy! I’m sure you had Edd and Matt biting their fingernails in frustration over this.”

> “i’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner!”

> “I’m just happy you noticed at all.”

[anti-romantico]

[secret] enhypen jay

warnings: alcohol consumption, dry humping

words: 1499

You weren’t fond of Jay, and he knew it. That’s why every time he was at your place to be with your brother, he would be extra loud, edging you to go to your brother’s room to tell them to shut the fuck. You could see Jay’s smirk before slamming the door closed every time you did it. He was unbearable.

There was this time you had friends over, you brother swore he was spending the night with Jay, but when you went to get more snacks, you found Jay AND you brother eating them. “We can get more” Jay shrugged, as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and there was no store open. 

Tonight, your brother threw a party for one of his friends you didn’t know. You were still invited, he assured you. And since you didn’t want to be at a place filled with strangers, you called Ryujin. You weren’t counting on her not being able to make it to the party last minute.

Everyone was in the backyard while you were sitting on the kitchen floor drinking straight from a bottle of tequila while scrolling down your phone.

— Having fun? — You heard a voice, raising your head and finding Jay at the kitchen door.

— Isn’t it obvious? — You said, lifting the bottle to show him. You weren’t exactly drunk, but you weren’t sober either.

— Your brother was wondering where you were. 

— And couldn’t he look for me instead?

— I was also wondering. — You nodded uninterested. — You’ll have a horrible headache tomorrow, give me that. — He crouched down and tried to snatch the bottle from your hand.

— Piss off, Jay, I’m an adult and I know how to take care of myself. — He tried again, only causing his knees to crack, making you laugh. — Damn, someone’s getting old. 

— I’m not much older than you. — He gave up and sat down beside you. — Can I at least get some? — You glared at him. — I promise I’ll give it back. 

You rolled your eyes and handed him the bottle. A bunch of screams from outside startled you. — It’s not close to finishing, is it? 

Jay chuckled. — It’s only midnight, sweetheart, it’s far from finished. 

— Then I think I’ll need more alcohol to sleep tight. — You stood up, or tried to. 

Your head was spinning after falling, you weren’t able to even open your eyes without getting dizzy. 

— Are you ok? — His voice was too close.

You turned your head slowly. You fell over him. — Shit, I’m sorry.

You tried to get up again, but Jay stopped you. — You’re gonna fall again, it’s ok. 

His arm pulled you to his folded leg so you could lean back on it. You weren’t sure if that was comfortable for him.

— Have you felt so sleepy you couldn’t fall asleep? — You didn’t let him finish. — I’m feeling that. It’s horrible.

— I’m sure it’s just the alcohol. Do you want water?

— That includes you getting up, and I’m really comfortable to move. — You placed your arm over his, blindly playing with the few bracelets he had.

— Not bad for your brother’s annoying friend, uh? 

You rolled your eyes again. — I still can’t stand you, Park. And I know you’ll use this against me, but I can always blame the alcohol. 

— You don’t sound like someone that just sank down a bottle of tequila, though. — He lifted his brow.

You chuckled, looking at him. — If I was sober, would I do this? 

You didn’t give Jay time to process what you just said. You just grabbed his face and kissed him.

And no, you weren’t drunk, but you were dying to do this for so long, it made you dislike him even more. 

You pulled away, smiling without showing teeth. — Would I?

— I mean, I wouldn’t have a problem if you would. — His words didn’t surprise you, he made those comments when your brother wasn’t close. — You can do it again if you want. — Jay squeezed a little the skin of your torso, expecting.

You chuckled. — I think it’s time for me to go to bed. — You whispered, still not pulling fully away from him. — Before I do something more than kissing.

— Would that be too bad? — Jay stared at your lips before your eyes. 

You thought about it for a second, but that second felt a little too long for Jay, so before you could reject him, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

It surprised you, to say the least. Yet, you kissed him back.

Making out with Jay on the kitchen floor wasn’t something you planned for tonight, but you had to admit you didn’t dislike it. 

His breathing started to get heavier and his hand kept pulling you to his lap, that’s where you stopped.

— Someone can walk in… — You said, placing a hand on his chest so he couldn’t keep kissing you.

— Do you want to stop? 

Why did you dislike him to begin with? 

— My room, with luck my brother won’t go looking for you.

Jay helped you stand up. Both speeded up your pace so no one could notice you went in the same direction. 

Once you were in your room, you made sure to lock the door behind you.

Jay pushed you against the wall and kissed you. He slightly humped you, making your hands coming to life to pull him by jeans. It was his turn to stop.

— You’re still drunk. — He whispered over your lips.

— I’m not, I promise. — Jay kissed your neck, earning a sigh from you. — If you are doing this only to tease me tomorrow or as a joke I’m going to kill you.

— As much as I would like to tease you about this for the rest of your life, I also want this, but I want you to be fully in your senses. 

You threw your head back, frustrated. You thought this was over, but Jay grabbed your right leg, rounding his hip with it. You understood immediately, holding from his shoulders. 

— Do you promise you’re going to fuck me soon?

Jay almost laughed out loud at your comment. — Be a good girl for me and stay quiet and we'll see. — He moved his hands to your butt, helping you to meet his thrusts. You bit down your lower lip and closed your eyes. 

You wanted him so badly to undress you, but dry humping him right now felt like you were in a wet dream.

— Does that feel good? — Jay whispered, trying to not lose himself.

— My leg… — You whined, feeling a cramp close to your hip bone.You couldn't finish your sentence, he was already carrying you fully and continuing with his thrusts. 

— Better? — He asked, brushing his lips over yours. 

— Fuck, Jay… — You moaned a little too loud.

— I told you to stay quiet. — He moved his head back when he felt like you were going to kiss him. You whined and dug your nails into the skin of his neck as a protest, making him groan out of pain.

His hips started to thrust harder and faster, this time you hid your head against his neck to help the noises you were making as you hit your orgasm. 

Jay rubbed your back as he also tried to calm his breathing. — I'm going to put you down ok? — He still held you from your waist to make sure you wouldn't fall.

— Why didn't you let me kiss you? — You were visibly blushed and with a thin sheet of sweat on your face, but that didn't stop you from sulking.

Jay smiled and caressed your cheek. He placed his lips softly on yours, letting you be the one to deepen the kiss by pulling him by his neck. 

The morning after, you woke up as if all the events from the previous night hit you on the head. You went to the kitchen for some water and found your brother and Jay already having breakfast. 

— I almost sent Jay to check if you were alive. — Your brother joked, standing up from his seat to get you aspirins and water.

— Why would you send Jay? You don’t care about your little sister? — You sat down in his place, squinting your eyes since the light bothered you.

Your brother didn’t answer, he just handed you a glass of water and two pills. You looked at Jay, but he was as confused as you.

Your brother waited for you to swallow the medicines before throwing the bomb. — Because someone was looking for Jay last night and they found him kissing my little sister exactly right there — He pointed at the corner you both were last night. — they were so nice to tell me, even though they were confused as they didn’t know you two were dating.

Both Jay and you froze, you even stopped breathing. 

— Just don’t do it while I’m home. Tell me to fuck off or something.

Your brother left the room, leaving you two speechless. 

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Promises I Intend To Keep 3

Nanami Kento x Reader

Previous Next

Song: End of Beginning by Djo

Nanami’s eyes never left the screen of his computer. He listened to the familiar footsteps inside his office. He didn’t have to look up to know it was his high school friend, Haibara Yu.

“Anything?” Nanami asked. Haibara shook his head with a frown. His frown deepened when Nanami slammed his fist on his desk hard. “It’s been 9 years!”

“We’ll find her,” he said swiftly. Nanami just nodded, eyes remaining on the chord bracelet you gave him years ago. “Are you sure she’s still in Japan though?”

“Yes,” Nanami said as the two walked to the parking garage. “She was sent up north, hours away from where we lived. My mother paid an absurd amount of money for their house.” Haibara nodded.

“Her father passed away five years ago,” he mentioned.

“He was involved in a car accident. His fault though since he was drinking. God, it was all I’ve seen him do.”

“You met the man?” Haibara asked curiously. Nanami nodded.

“He was always nice around me,” he answered. Haibara nodded and flipped through the files in hand.

“You never saw her in Todai.” Nanami shook his head. “I’ll do more investigating. Unless you need me to do something else? I think we’re caught up on schedule with meetings and what not.”

“Find her. Please.” Nanami’s voice softened at the end with vulnerability.

“I won’t disappoint. I’ll call Gojo-san and Geto-san.

“Tell Geto-san to help out when he’s done interviewing the new recruits. Have him send me the files immediately once he’s done.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Yu.”

“No problem, Kento.”

Nanami watched Haibara leave the office first. He stared at the chord bracelet on his left wrist. He remembered you putting it on him. A night where his mother was out of town and you slept over while she was away. He checked his phone. Old photos from before that he never got rid of. Photos of you and him before you left. The smile on your face that gave him constant motivation to find you. The smile he has been longing to see for the past 9 years.

“I’ll find you, sweetheart. I promise.”

He sticks to his normal routes around Tokyo. He refuses to explore more and find a whole bunch of new restaurants and stores. He needed you around. He wanted to get lost with you like he planned to years ago. He parked at another parking garage to quickly grocery shop before he went back home.

He can’t help but to always remember the times when his mother was out on business trips and the two of you would grocery shop together. You were always determine to cook him dinner. And he was always eager to help you.

“Wait! I promise! This will taste good!” you exclaimed as you tried to add Cajun seasoning to the Alfredo sauce. Nanami laughed, gently and slowly letting you go. “Okay, a little bit at a time won’t hurt.” You gave him a small spoonful to try and Nanami nodded with approval.

“Fine, put more.”

“Told you so, Kento!”

“You’re here. I know you’re here,” he kept muttering to himself. He looked back at his phone, finding you in places that he ever thought he would see you.

He was used to the stares. It was like high school except this time it was around the world. Everyone knew who he was. A young and successful CEO of 7:3 Security at the age of 27 that he built from the ground up. A man with ambition. His goal to make it to the top so he could find you.

“Nanami-san, can we have an autograph?” Nanami gave the group of females a small smile and nodded. He signed their small note pads before giving them a bow before walking away.

He grabbed a cart, starting off in the produce section of the store. He made mental checks of everything that he needed for home. Onions. Garlic. Pepper. Potatoes. You name it. But his mind went blank. The familiar chime that he loves to hear years ago.

“That’s such great news! I think you’ll get the job, Shoko.” His ears perked. He was sure of that voice. He looked around, but the grocery store was crowded. “I mean, as long as I’m allowed to just sit around and hang out I’ll stop by every now and then. Ieiri Shoko, quit being nervous. You’ll get the job.”

He shook his head. He had to be hearing things. It was almost too easy. His eyes wandered until they landed on a woman on the phone. His eyes remained on her. He really looked at her. The features he studied everyday, there was no doubt that it was you. He abandoned his shopping cart, striding his way towards you. But he suddenly stopped when a a male of average height and dark hair approached you. He raised an eyebrow. He knew him. And you knew him. You smiled and spoke happily to him. He felt a quick and tight squeeze in his heart. But nonetheless, he approached you two.

“Higuruma-san,” Nanami called. Higuruma looked up, his aloof expression mirroring Nanami’s as he nodded in response.

“Nanami-san,” Higuruma responded. You turned to look up at Nanami. You didn’t know how to explain it. Your heart was suddenly racing while an intense feeling coursed through your body. Your mouth felt dry, your body also numb.

And Nanami saw you. He paid attention to your reaction. The dumbfounded and puzzled expression you held. He never expected it unless his appearance changed throughout the years. But he knew he didn’t change much, just like you. Softly, he called your name. And your eyes widened. You bowed deeply.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanami-san,” you said softly with your soft smile. His heart stopped.

Meet?

“You two know each other?” Higuruma asked. Nanami nodded but you shook your head. It only made Nanami frown.

“You’re…familiar,” you admitted slowly. You knew you did. You had a good feeling that you do know. Nanami nodded and cleared his throat. His eyes scanned you again. The golden, infinity necklace remained around your neck and the diamond ring he gave remained on your left finger. He felt a bit relieved.

“We went to the same high school,” Nanami answered. You giggled.

“We did?” Nanami nodded.

“But you moved.” You felt a hard tug on your chest and Nanami caught the split second of your pained expression. It was as if he could feel your pain. It urged him to hold you, but he knew that he couldn’t at the moment. He watched you give him a small yet soft smile.

“I heard you hired Hiromi-kun as your defense attorney,” you said brightly.

Hiromi-kun…

“Good choice, Nanami-san. He’s one of the best.” Nanami gave you a tight smile and nodded.

“Yes,” Nanami said and looked at Higuruma. He hated the affectionate look Higuruma was giving you. He respected the man, but, at this moment, he couldn’t respect him. “Top of Japan.” Higuruma nodded.

“Thank you, Nanami-san.” A phone suddenly rang. Higuruma suddenly took a step to the side and answered his call. “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” You nodded before turning back to Nanami.

Sweetie…

“You two are…?”

“Ah, h-he just calls me that,” you said nervously as you fiddled with your ring. “When I moved, he became my only friend in high school. When I came to Tokyo, he hired me on the spot as a secretary at his office.” He felt relieved. But it bugged him to not know your feelings for him. He could easily see it through Higuruma.

“Just friends?” he blurted out. He mentally winced at himself.

“Just friends,” you said reassuringly with a smile. You had a far away look, leaving Nanami mesmerized. “He reminds me of someone important. You know what? You two remind me of each other. It’s almost like a coincidence.” You giggled. Nanami softly smiled. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned around to see Higuruma.

“My client wants to meet right now,” he said. “You’ll be alright?” You nodded.

“I’m okay. Thank you, Hiromi-kun,” you replied. Higuruma gave you a soft smile before looking at Nanami expressionlessly.

“I’ll see you around,” Higuruma said. Nanami nodded.

“You as well,” he replied. The two of you watched him walk out of the store. You turned back to Nanami. His eyes were soft and warm, making you feel warm as well. You felt your heart race that you almost felt dizzy.

“Maybe I’ll see you again one day,” you said. You were about to walk away when he didn’t respond, but Nanami immediately reached out to you and held your arm. You inaudibly gasped. The warmth of his hand felt so familiar, warm, and safe. It made your thoughts go haywire.

How will it feel to be wrapped in his arms?

“T-The necklace and ring. They look beautiful on you.” Your cheeks turned pink. The compliment coming from him. It didn’t seem like it was said to be polite because he is the CEO.

“Thank you, Nanami-san,” you said with a soft smile. “I don’t remember who gave them to me. But, I know deep down that it’s the most important things I have. Is that strange?” Nanami felt his heart skip a beat that he smiled.

“Not at all,” he said softly. He loves the blush on your cheeks, knowing that he was the only one able give you that effect. Back then and right now. Not Hiromi Higuruma. Just Nanami Kento.

And you enjoy his presence. All you want to do is to spend more time with him.

“Want to grocery shop together?” you asked curiously. So yes, you decided to keep him around. Nanami chuckled.

“I would love to. Follow me. My cart is over there. What do you need to get?”

“Ingredients for Cajun chicken and broccoli Alfredo.” His heart skipped a beat.

“That’s my favorite.”

“Mine too! It’s one of the best meals I can cook, Nanami-san!” It bothered Nanami to no end. It felt too easy. Finding you was too easy. But as it was, he found you a challenge. Not knowing who he is just became that extra obstacle he needed to take care of.

“So…you don’t remember me?” he asked. You shook your head. “I guess since there’s a bunch of us at the high school.” You nodded.

“Ever since I got into a car accident, things have been different,” you said as you picked up items for dinner.

“Car accident?” Nanami questioned, worry evident in his voice. Again, you felt a skip of your heartbeat.

“Five years ago,” you answered. “It killed my father. It was a pretty bad accident and the doctors and nurses were surprised that I survived. I couldn’t remember anything at first, but memories were slowly coming back. But I know they’re not all back. I can feel it.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“And it sucks because I don’t even remember where I actually grew up. I don’t know where my mom is or where I got the jewelry. And this note. I have the most encouraging note and it makes me love the person who wrote it.” You don’t know why you were telling Nanami this. It felt so easy to tell him. “I’m sorry, I’m ranting so much about it.”

“N-No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he said. You gave him a shy laugh. “What made you come to Tokyo?”

“I just knew that I needed to go to Tokyo. I paid off the loans that my father owed and refused to pay, quit my job at the cafe, signed up to Todai, and got a job with Hiromi-kun before I left. I have a purpose here. I just know it.”

“If you need help, I’m willing to help.” You blushed again.

“I-I appreciate it, Nanami-san. But I should be okay.” He nodded in response. His mind was still swirling with the fact that you were right here next to him. It felt both like a dream yet a nightmare. You didn’t know him. You forgot about him.

“At least let me drive you back to your place,” he said.

“I live close by, Nanami-san.” It frustrated him, feeling useless as usual. “But, I would love one! I am pretty tired. Thank you so much.”

The car ride was quiet but you liked the silence. It felt comforting. You gave him the quick directions to your apartment building. You felt hesitant once he parked at the front. He felt compelling. It was like your body had a mind of its own that you couldn’t leave his side. Your heart was racing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly. You nodded.

“It’s just…I—Come over for dinner? Since you drove me home, it’s the least I can do. If you have the time, of course. Maybe a rain check on it? You’re a busy man and all,” you blabbered. You blushed and felt very flustered from your sudden request. You shyly stared at your lap as you rotated the ring on your finger.

“We’ll do a raincheck,” he replied softly. “I want to try that Alfredo dish you’re planning to make.” You looked at him with wide eyes. A smile appeared on your face and you nodded.

“Yeah! I can do that! I-I’ll see you soon, Nanami-san!”

You grabbed your bags from the back. With one last wave, you entered the building. He waited until he couldn’t see your figure. You were safe. You were okay. And for that, he can rest easy for now. Immediately, he pulled his phone out. He dialed Haibara’s number.

“I need hospital information from her five years ago,” Nanami ordered.

“Yes boss. Geto-san sent you the files of the best candidates, as well.”

“Perfect. By the way, you guys don’t have to search for her.”

“Oh? Why not?” Haibara heard a soft chuckle from his end.

“I found her.”

“Kento! That’s great news!”

“It is but…she doesn’t remember me,” Nanami confessed. “She was involved in the car accident with her father. She admitted to memory loss.” He heard a sigh from his friend.

“Alright boss. I’ll get on it after dinner if that’s alright.”

“Of course. There’s no rush.” Nanami went through the files. A certain name popped up that caught his attention. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nanami immediately dialed the number. At the same time, he watched a woman with long brunette hair, straight navy blue slacks, a blue turtle neck, and low heeled shoes stop at the front entrance.

“Nanami Kento of 7:3 Security. May I speak to Ieiri Shoko?” He mentally chuckled to see the shock on the woman’s face.

“This is her,” she said a little too quickly and excitedly.

“I would like to offer you a job at the company. You will be receiving full benefits by the time you start working. Vacation and sick time is fixed and resets every year—-“

“I would love to accept the offer, Nanami-san!” Nanami mentally chuckled.

“Perfect. You can call or text me back from this number. I will send you onboarding paperwork through email and you can email everything back to along with questions that pop up to mind.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Thank you so much! I promise you, I will not disappoint you!” Nanami softly chuckled.

“Alright. Have a goodnight, Ieiri-san.”

Shoko immediately dialed a number on her phone. The sound of your name escaped her lips rather loudly before she entered the building. Nanami smiled. Did he become biased? He didn’t care at this point.

[itsdrawingmen]

I just wanted to put them in these tees, and then I wanted to give them funky outfits, and then this sorta just came together. I wanted the tees the other way around, but you just know Zen would start getting his panties in a bunch.

Okay, so headcanon time:

Yoosung's sprites and official art see him mostly wearing slimmer-fitting stuff, and looking reasonably clean-cut unless he's at home - less normal and boring than before uni, but still pretty toned down. After all, he's been taught to be proper. However, his striped tees and colourful pins already appear as a kind of style search, as does his little layering that he has going on most of the time. After he loses sight in his left eye and spirals into depression, he loses a lot of weight and finds that all of his clothes now hang on him and are way too big. At first, he just tries to hide in all that fabric, wearing stuff on top of one another to cocoon in, then it becomes more of a search for comfort, trying to get at least a little of the physical touch that he craves in this way. Somewhere along the way he realizes that the loose chunky layers feel really good and comfortable, and he begins actually liking the look of them. He also starts stacking accessories, mostly bracelets, also as a physical reassurance. This change in style marks his drift from his family's control, supported and encouraged by Zen (who is a little overprotective because he's projecting, but also because he gets a firsthand glimpse into what Yoosung's parents are like and realizes that's No Way To Live). He embraces a lot of his nonconformity here, and becomes way more comfortable in his skin. He does still wear slimmer fits, especially shirts (because now he has all the physical reassurance he needs), but his clothes become way more feel-good, relaxed, and funky.

Zen, for his part, goes through several different phases. When he runs away from home at the ripe old age of fourteen, he's trying his best to look adult and accentuate what little muscle he has, so he's constantly wearing skin-tight tees and jeans (some of them becoming so tight for the sole reason that he's outgrowing them). Then puberty plays a very funny joke by giving him hips before it gives him shoulders, and he gets his first actual leather biking jacket, with the help from the guy responsible for too many of his firsts. At that point Zen is still quite skinny, soft, and fragile, and his attempts at masculinity are childish. After being abandoned (again) by the person he loves, he starts his journey of hardening up and growing a carapace, which reflects on his style becoming way stiffer and more leather. Of course, he has little choice because he mostly survives on hand-me-downs, but those worn-out too-big too-stiff clothes make him feel better. This especially spikes after a certain event that he doesn't really talk about, when he completely stops appearing in public with his jacket unzipped. Then, after some drifting, he finally finds people he can trust and starts spending more time on actually pursuing his dream than trying to just barely survive. At that point he enters a new phase where he starts craving normalcy. His style becomes way simpler and more toned down. He chooses mostly soft, pliable clothes, nothing tight and nothing loose, no unusual cuts, mostly monochrome. He has very few clothes and he picks and chooses them to match in all combinations. And that stays true up until Yoosung's presence in Zen's flat (and heart) introduces colour into his wardrobe (and life). Zen is still more into classics, at least in terms of cuts, but he becomes more likely to pick an outlandish accent colour or texture. He's not big on accessories, unless it's something Yoosung gives him, in which case he always wears it in secret, close to skin under his clothes.

[carpenoctxrn]

Simon Riley x Reader (GN Pronouns)

synopsis: everything I believe simon would do with his S/O during Christmas

also feminine reader but not implied gender.

sfw

simon who loves the idea of decorating his house. at first he didn't want a house as he felt like it would be a empty shell and a reminder of how he is never around, how he will never be normal so an apartment would be more okay. but he decided financially if he can afford a good house he should purchase it. so he bought a two story house that has some acres but tons of trees surrounding it.

simon who asked his darling naturally after passing that milestone of being in a relationship as long as they had, he felt it would only be appropriate to ask them to move in. at first their darling was hesitant but ultimately they knew the answer was yes.

few months after simons darling moved in it was christmas. he felt as if he should ask his darling if they were interested in decorating the houses. he was met with online emails for delivery dates of christmas trees, gold and red ornaments, wreaths, gigantic candy canes to decorate the outside of the house, a bunch of out door lights, and a light up reindeer pulling santa set up to be placed on the roof. that was the only answer he needed.

as the couple would go out to the town to watch movies, shop for grocery, or to satisfy food cravings they would occasionally purchase knick knacks for christmas to hang around the house or to decorate during the festive season. simon didn't think ill of the holiday nor did he feel excited. some christmas he spent it being deployed and the ones he stayed at home were not different than every other day.

simon who is actually a bit excited this holiday because he has a sense of home in house all because of their darling. he loves waking up and having their darling ask them for help hanging things. he loves how domestic it feels when they set and begin decorating their christmas tree.

simon who definitely overspends on gifts for his darling because he wants the christmas to resemble a christmas catalog. he bought name brand everything without looking at the price tag. he bought them make-up if they used any, clothes of their aesthetic and color, gaming equipments if he felt like they need it, shoes from converse to YSL heels, and so many lingerie from small businesses all around the world that would ship to your location. it was tough getting the deliveries before his darling but he decided to just offer picking up the mail or anything if it was delivered to the post office rather than the drive way that was about one mile away from the house.

simon who helps his darling cook for their christmas dinner and offers to do the dishes afterwards while his darling showers and gets dressed. but before his darling went upstairs he decided to give some gifts early to his darling. like the brown silk dress that was skin tight and had long sleeve. it complimented the 24k gold bracelet that had your's and his initial engraved on it. along with some fluffy white socks that made them smile.

simon who wears black cargo pants with the maroon shirt you bought him to wear. he wore his silver rings, bracelets, and dog tags that complimented him. and also black fluffy socks too.

Master list

the divider is by @pommecita

[dariaslookalike]

Needing Miller pt 2.

Summary: It's a shit hole of a world that you're living in, and it gets even shittier when you're ambushed in your sleep. It's a slippery slope that leads you from being tucked cozily in your sleeping bag to joining the raiding group lead by the most infuriating (and intimidating) man you've ever met. You need to survive, above all else- either in this group (without smacking its leader over the head), or in the world alone after somehow escaping. Easier said than done, when your mind loses all sense of focus, tactics and skills the second that Joel Miller rolls up his sleeves and shows his godforsaken forearms.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: thought i should note while this is joel as a raider it is *not* dark joel- he is not going to be anything dubious to our protagonist- at the end of the day that is my sweet husband joel miller, not someone who is going to swing on a woman in the name of romance.

also more often than not i'll be updating this first on AO3 because i am like bugging out about tumblr formatting [desperately trying to make a masterlist]

Next Chapter: Pt 3

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You don’t sleep for long. It’s hard to. The pain that’s shooting from your cheek and the tension held in your body means that after a few pitiful hours, you jolt awake. The only thing you can be thankful for is that you’re so exhausted, no dreams visit you.

Night has completely fallen onto the mall now, and everything is cast in harsh shadows from the fire still burning off to the side. Soft hues of orange and yellow light up the pale floor, and the shadows are darker, deeper, than if they were made just by the moonlight above.

You force your breathing to still even as the memories of the day flood back in. Where you were. What happened to you.

You twist in your sleeping bag, and Ryan glances down at you, still sitting on the edge of the fountain. You stare at him for a second before you clear your throat. You sit up, the material around you swishing.

“Thanks for staying. And stitching me up.”

“It’s fine.” Ryan nods. “Only a few hours- I can stay longer if you want to go back to sleep.”

“No. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

His eyes flick to yours, but he doesn’t question you. He just nods again, and pushes to his feet, and begins walking over to sit by the fire.

You nod to yourself. He was good at stitching you up. To stay true to his word and watch over you. But the both of you clearly aren’t interested in being friends. He knows you’re only here because Joel let you be here. You know he was only tending to you because Joel made him. An odd, forced arrangement that you weren’t going to push any further. Right now you wanted to focus on staying alive in this group, not making friendship bracelets.

You settle against the fountain, still sitting in your sleeping bag. You can see everyone from here. While it’s later than before, only one person remains sleeping, and the rest circle around the fire. A nocturnal bunch. It makes sense. Sure, the light of day gives you the benefit of sight, but now, when the moon’s high up and everything is washed in darkness, it gives them coverage, security.

Your hand reaches up, and edges across the thick gauze pad taped to your face. It’s wet on the outside, and you know you’ll have to change the dressing soon if you’re able to. Your cheek is blooming with heat. You remembered it when you grazed your knee as a kid. Warm throbbing pain that was your body’s way of trying to kill any infection. Right now it feels like your body is trying to melt away your face. The skin beneath feels sharply prodded and stretched by the stitches, but you tell yourself that’s good. Better to feel that pain and hurt and heat than be the one with their head blown off.

Your hand drops from your face.

Terry. That was his name. Carving your own knife into your face. His head splattered across the floor. Your shoe crunching into his ribs with a kick.

You don’t know his dead friend's name and you won’t ask for it either. But in your mind, you still see the drop of his body to the floor, the slow, self-assured lowering of Joel’s gun as he tucks it back into his waistband. Two bullets. Two men. You’re only making up for one of them, and you wonder if he thinks you’re even more indebted to him now.

You clench your jaw. No. Joel was going to let you go- your hand wasn’t forced in joining this raiding group. You weren’t repaying a debt. You were trying to save your hide from raiders who wouldn’t just cut you, but carve you up and play with the pieces.

But Joel did you a favour. Spilled the blood of two of his men as a result of you. Took you in when he could have shot you for your limited supplies or left you to become septic.

And…you didn’t have any place better to be. You had run from the QZ; from the loss. The despair. The control. Everything that had happened, you had to get away from it. Head East. That was all you were doing.

It was a crack pipe dream thinking that you’d just keep heading East. Reach the coast. Swim abroad against the current and the tides and the waves and find a place on a continent you had never visited.

But something in your gut knew you were never going to make it to the coast; knew you weren’t truly following that day dream. Knew that you were going to get bit. Or caught. Or hell, step wrong, twist your ankle, and starve to death because you couldn’t walk the rest of the way.

You could make this work. Like Joel said, you’d do what he tells you to and you’d live. That was all you needed to do right now. Live.

You nod to yourself and get acutely aware that you aren’t alone anymore; that you couldn’t mutter to yourself without someone hearing now or hum under your breath if you got bored. You focus, and let your eyes trail to the campside. There’s two more people in the group than you counted before.

You focus on their forms. You see Ryan; the dirty blonde of his hair, your blood on the cuff of his jacket. He bumps his shoulder into the man sitting beside him, and they laugh about something you don’t hear. You don’t know the name of anyone else but spend time taking in their faces; rooting it to memory. All men. You’re not sure what that means for the group. Did they think they had no use for women outside of abuse and simply discarded them before you had shown up? Or were they just close knit, unwilling to let anyone into their protective circle? Neither option filled you with confidence.

Your gaze catches on Joel. He’s here now; you wonder where he walked off to, though you know you’re not entitled to ask. He’s facing the fire, and you’re able to take in his side profile. The sharp slope of his nose. The intense heaviness of his brow. The tightness to his lips, his jaw, his temple; as if even here, sitting at a fire with the group he commanded around him, he wasn’t at ease.

Your eyes sweep up and down him. He’s got a heavy, tanned jacket on, even that close to the flames. A pair of dirtied jeans. They hug his legs, and you think about him, wrapping himself around you just to stop your rabid attack. The thought swirls in your stomach, and becomes a flurry when you take in the slouch of his shoulders, the firelight catching on his hands that are clutched together in front of him.

He was handsome, and you feel nausea rise at the thought. When was anyone ever handsome to you? He was older than you, more brutal than you, more experienced than you. He should revolt and disgust you. Your logical reasoning does absolutely nothing to convince the pounding in your bloodstream to calm. You swallow. You have to forcibly drag your gaze away from him, force yourself to settle onto the new figure beside him.

But the man beside him is grinning, and already staring at you. You flush, realising you’ve been caught looking at Joel for what felt like hours. The man ducks his head closer to Joel, chuckling and saying something too quiet for you to hear. Joel doesn’t laugh, and instead his head spins, and he looks directly at you.

You sink further into your sleeping bag, and instantly look away, training your eyes onto the entrance of the mall, the slope of the walls, anything but him.

You flick your eyes back momentarily, wanting confirmation that you weren’t still being eyed. Instead, you catch the man beside Joel patting his shoulder and pushing himself to his feet. You stare at him, and shake your head slightly; praying to yourself that this wasn’t happening.

The man smiles, and he leaves the fireside, walking over to you. Joel’s staring at him, that notch in his brow again, before he scoffs and faces the fire again. You force yourself to look at this man, take him in; don’t cower or slink back; face him head on.

He’s got dark, black hair that’s curling below his ears, and the same carved nose of Joel. He’s wearing some kind of flannel and jeans, and he brushes his hands off on them as he comes closer, and sits down beside you.

You back yourself up, sliding against the fountain edge to put some distance between you but you still keep your eyes trained on him. Distance, not retreat. The man notices, but he simply smiles and sticks out his hand. You don’t shake it, and he laughs, withdrawing.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

You nod, and whisper your name back to him. His lips curl into a smirk. He’s got the same confidence as Joel. But Joel was domineering, commanding, authoritative. Tommy just came across as cocky. He taps his own cheek, eyebrows raised. You’re reminded of how Joel did the same thing, warning you that you’d bleed out if you left.

“What happened there?”

“Take a guess.” You bite.

He shrugs, unfazed by the harsh tone of your voice and huffs out a breath. “I was the one who cleaned out Terry.”

You feel anger burn white hot in your chest at the thought of him. His entitlement to you, his assault to your face. You swallow the anger down, aware that you were still being watched. You think of the body dragged out only metres away from you. You weren’t aware that Joel had directed the same to be done with Terry. It makes sense. You don’t want to attract rats, or other raiders who got it in their mind that the nearby group was smaller, weaker. Or something more vile than a rat, sniffing out after the death and decay in hopes to spread it’s virus.

Tommy’s gaze finds yours, and he studies you, as if trying to take you apart and sort through what the pieces meant.

“I know his ugly face was ‘cause of Joel- no one else that headstrong to put a bullet between his eyes. But he had a nasty shoulder. Skin clawed off his wrist.”

“What, were you friends with him?”

You resisted the urge to pick under your nails, to clean out anything left of Terry. There’s a beat of silence, and then Tommy’s lips spread out in a wolfish grin.

“No. Was gonna put a bullet in ‘im myself if Joel didn’t. Just wanted to say that I’m glad he suffered before. Especially if he cut up your pretty face.”

You nod, and turn your head away; half to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks and half to hide Terry’s assault. Tommy tilts his head to follow you, maintaining your gaze.

He smiles, eyes scanning over you. “Don’t worry- I dig chicks with scars.”

You laugh and it’s so unexpected that even you blink in surprise. You compose yourself, but Tommy’s smile is just wider, accomplished.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what my life goal is, for raiders to think I’m hot.”

Tommy’s jaw twinges at the word ‘raiders’, but he just shrugs. “Well, congrats then- mission accomplished.”

You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head. You flick your eyes back to him and allow yourself to examine him closer. His hair is combed back, and he’s has a slight stubble to him. As if he was a man who preferred to be clean shaven, but had been without a razor for a bit too long; a contrast to his brother. Smooth skin, cheekbones that drag your eyes down to his lips. He’s older than you but you struggle to pinpoint by how much.

He smiles as if it’s the easiest thing in the world; as if you were both just at some bar, chatting with each other, and the world hadn’t ended; as if you hadn’t done things you weren’t proud of and he hadn’t probably done worse.

“Seems ya to like to stare at Miller men.” He says, teasing.

He has the same Southern drawl, but his voice is higher, not as weighted. You blush and turn away but he waves his hands in defense.

“‘It’s not embarrassin’. I get it- I’d stare at him too to take in my handiwork.” He waggles his thick eyebrows. “Or were you starin’ at him for some other reason?”

You scoff, and turn back to him; glaring as the anger in your chest rears its head back up. “Handiwork?”

He smirks, nodding. “Yeah. Saw the scratches on Joel’s neck.”

He reaches up, gesturing his hands clawing down his neck. “Just a shame you didn’t give him a black eye too- would’ve paid money to see it.”

You should feel embarrassed, or wary to be discussing your earlier grapple with Joel’s brother. But instead your lips tug up. You look at Tommy from the corner of your eye.

“I kicked him in the balls. If that’s worth anything.”

His eyes blow wide and his mouth drops open a bit until he laughs, tipping his head back. “God. No wonder he was so moody when he came and got me.”

He chuckles to himself before he looks back at you. “That’s good. If you can kick him in the nuts and get away with it, you’ll make it here. No doubts.”

You nod, not sure how to respond. Did you want to make it here, wherever here was?

The conversation flows on. Tommy gives you the names of everyone, pointing them out around the fire. You’re able to laugh with him, and offer a little bit to the conversation.

You’re not sure where you stand with this man. How truly trustworthy he is beneath his charming facade. But Ryan’s antiseptic and skills were something you’d need to keep close by before you were fully healed up. Until the wound on your face became a scar, you couldn’t leave.

So, when he asks about where you came from, what you’re doing all the way out here, you feed him little pieces of information- not enough for him to gather the full story, but enough that he leans in closer; as if deciding to trust, or at least entertain, you too.

You don’t register that Joel’s walked over to you until Tommy’s gaze flicks upwards, and you follow.

Joel’s glaring down at his brother, and Tommy’s easy smile slips off his face; replaced with a hard carve of his lips and tense hunch of his brow. The charming man fades away, and in his place is a hardened, now seemingly older man. A raider- not a man you met at a bar that didn’t exist anymore.

There seems to be unspoken words between the two, communicated in the flare of Joel’s nostrils, the square of his shoulders, the clench of his fists. You simply watch the exchange, enraptured and feeling like you’re intruding. Finally, Tommy sighs, and his gaze slides to you, a bashful smile put back in place.

“Nice meeting ya, Dollface.”

You laugh, and when he offers you his hand again, you reach out, shaking it. He lingers, holding onto you, and you’re stuck staring into the dark of his eyes; you can see the firelight flickering in them.

Joel clears his throat, and Tommy rolls his eyes, shooting you a smirk as if to say Can you believe this guy? But he pulls back, pushing himself to his feet. He raises to his full height, and stares at Joel- more unspoken conversation, and now it’s Tommy talking in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, the twinge in his temple. The tension snaps and dissipates when he simply shakes his head, brushing past Joel and returning to sit by the fire.

Joel scoffs at him, and shakes his head. He doesn’t look at you as he sits down, taking Tommy’s seat beside you.

“What was that?”

His jaw clenches, and he keeps looking across to the fire. “Nothin’.”

“Yeah, sure seemed like nothing.”

Joel’s tongue darts out to lick across his lip and he shakes his head slightly. “None of your business.”

You force yourself to exhale through your nose, to not slap him across the face. “Sure- but I was having a nice conversation with him. Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of that to go around here amidst all the shooting.”

He scoffs, and finally turns to you fully. His face is half cast in light from the fire, and the thought catches in your throat that Tommy was only sitting here a minute ago and didn’t look half as handsome as the man in front of you.

Joel glares at you, the notch in his brow deeper. “Those two needed to go- not gonna have some fuckin’ punks walking around like they make the rules.”

His eye dips down to the bandage on your cheek and you wonder if he sees the knife stabbed into it as much as you still feel it. He drags his gaze back to yours, hissing. “And Tommy only wants to get in your pants. Nothin’ nice about the conversation.”

Your eyes widen and you scoff, words slipping out before you can stop them. “Bite me.”

He scowls, lip tugging down. “Real creative.”

“What?” You demand, leaning forward, fire licking up inside you. “Am I supposed to sit here and think of a fucking essay when you tell me all your brother wants to do is fuck me?”

Joel’s brow furrows, and he clicks his teeth. “Watch it.”

You huff but you’re left with a moment of tension, and it leaves you with flashes of images- Terry’s head splattered across the floor. Your wrist nearly broken by Joel’s hand. His gun glinting at his waist.

But you also see the obedient turn of heads. Tommy’s annoyance yet subordination.

You’re angry. Angry that you were so exhausted you had to sleep. Angry that you weren’t prepared more in that fucking shop. Angry that you got caught. Angry that you got stabbed. Angry that you’re stuck with this group when you were doing just fine on your own before you met them. Angry that the man beside you is talking to you like you’re a child. You yield to the fire inside you and scoff.

“Fuck off Joel.”

His eyes widen and it’s the same minuscule, near-unnoticeable change that reveals his shock. But he just clenches his jaw, showing more restraint than you had. “Sure got some gall.”

You run your tongue along your teeth, and his eyes track the movement. “I ‘had some fight’, right? Thought that’s why I’m here.”

His eyes stay trained on you, and his gaze is heavy, stern. “Just ‘cause you can run your mouth doesn’t mean jack.”

Your eyes dip to his neck, and you see what Tommy was talking about. Where you had scratched him earlier, there is jagged lines down the smooth column of his neck, some speckled with blood. Your eyes flick back to his.

“Yeah?”

His nostrils flare and it’s the only indication that he knows exactly what you were looking at. He snarls, and leans even closer.

“Tomorrow we’re on the move. You slip up, you fuck up, you don’t have any of that ‘fight’ in ya, and you’re done for.”

You clench your jaw but you don’t flinch back, instead holding his gaze. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He scoffs and is the first to lean back, shaking his head. “You’re gonna learn some respect.” He pins you with a glare. “Don’t ever mouth off like that in front of anyone- or you’re gonna wish I left you for dead with that knife in your face.”

You swallow, and your cheek burns in pain and shame. You clench your hand.. Force yourself to feel the strain of your bones where he had nearly crushed them and the nails digging into your palm instead of reaching across and slapping him as hard as you could.

You could see the imaginary line you had to toe. Not subordinate enough for him to step on you and treat you like shit. Not insubordinate enough for him to put a bullet between your eyes. Tell him to fuck off when you needed to. Bow your head when he told you to.

So you just nod, and turn from him, leaning back against the fountain. You had clearly pushed enough of his buttons tonight, and you weren’t ready to push anymore. Yet.

He huffs beside you, and turns away, facing back to the group.

Finally, after what feels like tortuous hours of uncomfortable silence, he clears his throat. “You ever used a gun?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye but don’t turn to him. “What?”

He scoffs beside you, as if repeating himself is his own personal hell. “Have you ever used a gun?”

You swallow, and your hand slides in your sleeping bag, thumbing over the hilt of your knife. “Yeah. Got taught in FEDRA’s school.”

He turns his head at that, maybe just realising that you didn’t simply spawn into existence in this mall. That you had a life. A school. Maybe friends. A family. That you had gotten out, gotten this far by yourself.

He tuts. “‘T’s not gonna do you shit then. I’ll teach you tomorrow as we go.”

You swallow, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “Tommy can do that. Or Ryan.”

“Already sick of me, Newbie?”

You don’t say anything, and he leans in closer, eyes narrowing.

“I brought you in. ‘M responsible for you.”

You turn back to him fully, eyebrows raised. “You said I was free to go. I joined. I’m not some sick puppy you dragged in to fix up.”

His tongue runs along his teeth beneath his lips. “Whether you like it or not, it’s cause of me that you’re here and not bleeding out in some fuckin’ shop.”

You resist the urge to bite your ruined cheek. He’s right. You know it. You can feel the debt you owe to him thrumming between the two of you.

“So, what? You teach, and then I can stay out of your way?”

“Sure,” He snaps, eyes dark. “You learn to shoot a gun properly, and I won’t have to talk to you again.”

You clench your jaw. “Great.”

“What’s wrong, Dollface?” He hisses the name. “You should be jumping for joy.”

“What’s your issue?” You snap, reeling on him. “You take me in, get my face fixed up and now you’re pushing me for a fucking fight. What is it? Seeing how long it takes for me to snap, how long until you can put a bullet between my eyes too?”

He huffs, and shakes his head, fury evident in the clench of his jaw. “‘M not testing you.”

“So what is it?” You push, glowering. “Can’t stand the thought of your brother getting some ‘cause I told you I’d bite your dick off?”

His eyes flick towards you, and he scoffs. “No. Just don’t get why you’re buddying up to him. You’ve gotta learn something.” He hisses. “Anyone who’s made it this far, who’s survived, didn’t do so cause they were fuckin’ nice.”

You glare at him. “You don’t think I learned my lesson from Terry? From your crew?”

You jut out your chin, and his eyes snag on the bandage across your face. You know what he’s thinking- that you’re never going to be able to forget that lesson. Something like pity flashes through his eyes for a second before you see him chew his cheek for a second, as if physically biting back his response. He takes a deep breath, and then another, before he looks back at you.

“Don’t get it twisted,” He says, eyes dark and foreboding. “Terry wasn’t good. But a Miller,” He huffs, "is a different kind of bad. Stay away from Tommy.”

You swallow, and almost want to laugh at the dramatism; but something in his words is ragged, raw. True.

You clench your jaw, levelling your gaze with him. “And what about you? You said you’re responsible for me now. Miller.”

His lips tilt down but he shrugs, nonchalantly. You scoff.

“So what? Tommy’s some big bad wolf I should steer clear from, but you’re my guardian angel?”

He mirrors you, scoffing and crossing his hands across his chest. You hate the stupid flex of his forearms and the way your eye catches on the shadow. “Nowhere near that. But I’m not gonna let you jeopardise my crew until you can prove you can handle your own.”

“You brought me in.” You hiss, throwing his own words in his face.

“Exactly,” He snarls, lip curling. “I brought you in and if you fuck up, it’s on me.”

Your pulse is thrumming in your ears. “So you teach me to not fuck up- And then you won’t have to talk to me again. That’s our deal right? I do as I’m told and I get to stay. Nothing more, nothing less.” You say, repeating his words from earlier again.

His jaw flexes, but he nods.

“Can’t wait.” You hiss, turning away from him

He doesn’t leave. You can feel him practically thrumming with annoyance and anger at how petty and childish you were- but he doesn’t leave.

You’re his responsibility now, hisses the small voice in your head. You want to tell it to shut up. To understand that you could have left, still could if you wanted to; but you chose to be here, because otherwise you would have died two streets away with a raider robbing your boots off your cold feet. Hell, you might have made it a week before the dirt and rubble and spores sunk into your wound and you died a feverish death.

But you don’t. Because you know that you owe Joel- owe him for the bullet in Terry, the bullet in his other insubordinate, the stitches in your face; the protection and food and shelter you’d get now in this desolate waste land of a city. That was the deal. He provides you with the mockery of a good life in this wasteland, and you do as you’re told.

And you know that Joel is responsible for you. Killing two of his own men, even if it was for disobeying his rules, because of you was a threat to his domineering authority. You, your actions, your slip ups, your fuck ups, would all be a reflection on him.

He was responsible for you and you owed him. Two truths that coexisted in this twisted partnership you had found yourself in.

So you don’t tell him to fuck off again and to go back to the fire. Instead, you lay on your side, back still against the fountain, and tug up your sleeping bag to your chin. Your head is closest to Joel; enough that if you tilted your eyes up, you’d be able to see the underside of his jaw, his cheekbones, the messy top of hair. Right now your gaze could only find the solidness of his thighs.

You think of the quick draw of his gun, his unflinching gaze as he blew someone’s head off for the second time that day. You wonder if he meant it- if he was a different, but wholly worse evil than Terry.

You don’t think you want to find out.

He can watch your back tonight, teach you about guns tomorrow, and the day after, you would make sure you keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

The pain is still throbbing, but it’s becoming an accepted, familiar sensation in your body. It dulls in the background of sleep.

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley) (Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 9

For the rest of the afternoon, I went out fishing at the beach. I got used to being in the rain, so I decided to make some use out of the day and do something useful. Plus, I spent the rest of my cash on a hat from a mouse so I need to make more. I hear the fish bite well in Pelican Town, and a man named Willy will pay good money for what I catch. That or I could ship them out by putting them in the shipping box by my house.

By the time I had my fill of fishing, it was too late to bring them to Willy, so I decided to just bring the bucket home and ship them off.

I was feeling exhausted once again by the time I made it home. I really need to build my stamina on this farm if I get worn out by a little fishing. Or maybe I should bring a snack next time?

Later that night, while I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t stop the overwhelming amount of thoughts going through my head.

Why did she kick me out all of a sudden? What did I do to upset her?

I couldn’t stop thinking about Haley. She has been a weird one since I moved here, but Elliot says she isn’t usually like this? 

With each toss and turn in the night, I just couldn’t fall asleep. As tired as I was, my body just wouldn’t let me pass out. I decide to get out of bed and rummage around in the snacks I bought from Pierre’s. I ended up putting the bags on the floor after all because I never did get anything to put them in.

I slump down to the floor and lean against the wall in sorrow while slowly chewing my bite of plain bread. 

I hadn’t even noticed, but I managed to finally get to sleep after finishing half a loaf of bread. I had startled myself with waking up on the floor against the wall because that’s not something I normally do.

Looking across the house and out the window, it is a beautiful sunny day. A perfect day to grab those overalls and water my crops. Tossing on some work clothes, I ran outside with the watering can, eager to get the day started.

The flag on my mailbox stands high and mighty this morning, signaling I have received more mail. Reaching in, I pull out the letter that was stuffed in it.

Tomorrow we’re holding the Egg Festival in town square.

You should arrive between 9am and 2pm if you’d like to attend. You wouldn’t want to miss the annual egg hunt!

-Mayor Lewis

“That will be interesting. Hopefully I don’t sleep in.” I fold the letter up and toss it in my pocket. I also notice there is an envelope of cash sitting in the mailbox as well. It was my payment for the bunch of fish I put in last night. “I’ll make sure to put that away later,” I made a mental note.

Now it’s time to water those crops. Already, I notice they are sprouting out of the soil. I must’ve done something right then if they’ve gotten this far.

5 cans of water later, the crops are all watered and refreshed. I had also tossed my overalls back in my house too before it decides to rain again. 

Fishing sounds like a great idea again to pass the time, so I walk my way back to the beach, but when I arrive, Haley is standing alone in the sand. She seems to be crying.

“Hey Haley. What’s wrong?” I inquire as I approach her.

“I lost my grandmother’s bracelet she gave me. I had it here with me on the beach, and now it’s gone,” She breaks out into sobs as she previously was before I showed up.

“I’m really sorry…” I try to console her.

She sighs, “Maybe it'll wash up on another shore. I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

Before she can say anything else, I take off strolling across the beach. Haley stares after me, remaining in place.

“Where are you going?” she questions. She is no longer crying, instead she has a puzzled look as she watches me.

I walk backwards to look at her, hands in my pockets, and give her a nonchalant shrug and smile. I am going to look for her bracelet.

I scan every inch of the sand as well as along the shoreline. I can’t manage to find it until I walk around the right side of Elliot’s beach cabin. Haley can’t see me from here, but I bend over and pick something up.

She is still watching me as I walk back to her across the beach, hands still placed in my pocket. She just frowns at me as I give her a smug smile. 

Taking my hand out of my pocket, I open my fingers and lay my hand open flat, revealing a golden bracelet with a blue gem.

Haley gasps at the sight of it and scoops it up immediately. Holding the bracelet tight in her hand, she jumps up and wraps her arms around my neck.

“Thank you so much. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me,” she mutters softly. The hug had me taken aback. It took me a moment to process, but when I finally understood what was happening, I wrapped my arms around her to return the hug.

“May I ask what you were doing over there?” I chuckle

“I saw a really nice shell. I had to go pick it up and look at it,” she replies sheepishly.

We continue hugging for a little bit longer, neither of us breaking apart. It leaves me extra confused when I think about our last interaction.

She finally pulls back from me when she realizes how long she spent hugging me. I look down at her to see if I can judge how she is feeling and she shyly tucks a piece of her beautiful, golden hair behind her ear. She isn’t making eye contact with me though, she is too busy looking at the ground.

“Anyways, I’ll see you at the Egg Festival tomorrow, right?” she asks.

“Of course you will. We always end up seeing each other, don’t we?” I remark sarcastically.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are. You do realize that?” she chirps back playfully.

“I like to think I’m pretty funny.”

“Is that why girls always fall in love with you?” 

“Pardon me?” I am visibly taken aback from her comment.

“I overheard you talking to Elliot the other day…sorry,” she smacks herself in the forehead as if the previous words just slipped out of her mouth by accident.

I try to ease her embarrassment by giving her a genuine response, “I mean… It probably is the reason a girl would like me, yeah. Among others I hope. I don’t want to be their personal comedian. I don’t have anyone to ask though so I guess I’ll never know.”

“No one to ask? You haven’t dated anyone before?”

“Nope. No one. Had a few one night stands though…” I trail off as I notice Haley’s face drop, “...umm… what’s that face for?”

She takes another step back from me and I see her eyes start watering. She quickly wipes them away hoping I didn’t notice and clears her throat. “What face? I didn’t make a face. You’re seeing things,” she is now acting as if she has been as cool as a cucumber this whole time.

I scratch my head awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. I finally landed on flipping the conversation back to her, “What about you? What’s your love life like? You and Alex seem pretty close.”

That was a big mistake. The tears start welling up along her waterline and they manage to escape this time. 

“It’s complicated.” is all she spits out.

“Trouble in paradise?” I respond empathetically. I try to place a hand on her shoulder and she pushes it away. 

“You could say that.”

Taking the hints, I decided to stop prying and changed the topic immediately, “We are supposed to have great weather tomorrow for the festival!”  I think those are the lamest words I have ever uttered in my life. 

Haley bursts out laughing like it’s the funniest thing she has ever heard. The tears of sadness turn to tears of laughter. Her laughter is so contagious, it gets me laughing with her.

“That was the lamest attempt at a conversation change I have ever seen,” she explodes with more laughter. I wasn’t the only one to think that I guess.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to say!” I continue to laugh. 

Our laughter dies down, and she turns and starts to leave. Before she walks away though she calls back to me, “I will see you tomorrow in the nice weather at the Egg Festival.”

I stick my tongue out at her and she does it right back. Haley is a huge whirlwind of emotions.

[ccghastly]

Fury Road Saga Headcanons

I finally got around to watching the new(ish) Furiosa movie and I had to revamp a bunch of my headcanons, so I thought I'd share them again!

I thought about just editing my old posts, but thought this would be nicer for everyone as I also wanted to add some new stuff.

Ages

Cub

Cubs are referred to with They/Them pronouns.  Cubs stay with their Dami until they’re about 2100 days(roughly 5 or 6 years) old. Cubs taken in from the wastes and the wretched to be given a better life in the citadel are quickly adopted by a Dami. Cubs are generally seen as ready to enter puphood when they start losing their milk-teeth and they’re potty trained. The names Cubs are given by their Dami is their Milk-name. Cubs stay in the Nursery, watched over by the Damgin if their Dami is busy.  The Nursery is a room filled with all the soft things a gnawing and falling cub could need. The health of Cubs and Damis is seen to by the Medam. Cubs: are unbranded, unshaved, don’t wear clay, and aren’t expected to attend any War-Lessons. (You will get the occasional cub wandering into a lesson, following after a littermate who became a pup before they did.)

Pup

Pups are referred to with He/They pronouns, interchangeably. Pups are communally raised by the Warboys until they're about 5500 days(15ish years) old. Pups are assigned Minders, but if they latch onto a different Warboy their Minderhood will be transferred to that Warboy. Each Minder is responsible for his own pup(s), making sure they’re doing what they’re meant to be doing and not doing what they’re not. As pups grow and lose more of their milk-teeth, they'll collect them, carefully bore holes through them, and gift them to their Dami. For her to add to her milk-bracelet. Pups taken in from the wastes and the wretched that were too old to go in the Nursery and have no Dami, will sometimes choose to give their milk-teeth to their Minder instead. Some warboys will make them into the traditional milk-bracelets, but milk-belts are popular. Pups tend to pick a new name as they get older, if they find one they like the sound of. Pups also wind up new names from other Pups and Warboys for something they've done or some distinguishing feature they have. Some pups choose to go by their milk-name for their entire lives. Pups sleep in The Kennels at night, but are allowed to run around all they like during the day, as long as they're not skipping lessons or getting underfoot. The Kennels are the level below The Court and above The Shops.  The Kennels aren't as soft as the Nursery, instead filled with every curiosity, toy, and trinket a pup can carry away. Pups get their first checkup by the Organic-Mechanic within the first 15 days of moving into the Kennels, a scar denoting their blood type is scarred high between their shoulder blades. It common for pups to be treated by the Medam rather than the Organic-Mechanic. Pups aren't barred from visiting the Nursery, but must be in the Kennels by curfew and attend their lessons. Most pups age out of this want for the Nursery. Some pups remain so attached to their Dami they grow up to become Damis themselves. War-Lessons are schoolings for Pups on how to become Warboys. Basic reading(to identify the labels on parts and suchlike, Damis have generally already taught pups letters and how to spell their milk-name), sparring, and maths are taught communally, but pups will usually independently find the niche they want to fill and find a Warboy in that trade to follow around and learn from. At this point the role of Minder will sometimes be transferred to better suit a pup’s needs.  Pups that have progressed well in their role are allowed to darken their eyesockets with soot-paint. For a pup to become a Warboy there's a ceremony where they get their brand and, if needed, any extra bits removed in one last appointment with the Organic-mechanic. Pups are: shaved, encouraged to experiment with clay and what patterns they like to wear, and expected at War-Lessons.  Pups aren't: branded, allowed any permanent mods(scarification, tattoos, piercings, embeds, etc), or allowed out of the citadel without permission and supervision. 

Warboy

Warboys are referred to with He/Him pronouns.  Warboys are considered fully grown.  Warboys live in The Pit. The Pit being all the floors beneath The Lift(the floor that is the lift’s main stop, which is its own level). The lowest level of the second tower. Some habited floors of this level are subterranean, but most are not.  Unclaimed Warboys commonly bunk in nooks within the dorms that are unofficially separated by role, or in a personal nook/nest. Claimed Warboys commonly bunk in alcoves with their crew, in their Praetorian's Territory, or in an alcove with their friends allies. If they're in an Imperator's personal crew it's very rare, but sometimes they'll bunk in their Imperator's Grotto. Usually it's just the Imperator's Second and a few of their favourites from the crew that get to bunk in the Grotto. Warboys: are branded and shaved, wear clay and soot-paint, can have permanent mods, have roles, and are allowed to leave the towers independently. Warboys in higher ranks within their role may mark their heads/faces with soot-paint beyond the traditional eyesockets. Warboys of all ranks can use soot-paint to make patterns and designs on their body.

Roles

Dami

Damis are referred to with She/Her pronouns. A Dami is anyone that’s raising a Cub, whether it’s a cub they birthed or one they adopted. When not with her cub in the Nursery, a Dami stays in the Roost, within The Court.  The Court is an upper level of the second tower. The Court of the second tower encompasses: the cubs Nursery, the Damis Roost, and the lower breeders Abbey. It's common for a breeder to be a Dami after birthing a cub, and return to be a breeder in the Abbey once their cub has grown into a pup. However, not every Dami was once a breeder, and not every breeder will become a Dami.  Every Warboy is told who birthed them, to prevent inbreeding. Pups and Warboys always call their Dami 'Dami', even if she's not currently acting as a Dami.  Damis with many complete milk-bracelets are coveted and have more status, as it's recognized that more of their cubs have lived to become fully grown Warboys. The Damgin is the Dami in charge of making sure everything in the Nursery is as it should be, a sort of den-mother. The Damgin is often the one with the most milk-bracelets. The Medam is something of a midwife and a paediatrician. She sees to the health of the Cubs and Damis. The original Medam was a medicine woman brought in by the Hunters, who then trained a Dami to be her successor; this tradition is still continued. It is believed that if a Dami dies whelping a cub, they get into Valhalla. A person of any body type can be a Dami. The way this probably came about was that the warboys were trying to puzzle out what exactly a 'mother' is and concluded that it's a person that takes care of babies and uses she/her pronouns. Therefore, people that take care of babies, are mothers and use she/her pronouns.

Praetorian

Praetorians do not: wear clay, use soot-paint.  Praetorians: can be half-lives, do use grease-paint(darker than soot-paint and lasts longer), can wear their hair unshaved, can raise others to the rank of Praetorian. Praetorians build a crew of unclaimed warboy teams(teams refer to the common pairings of Lancer & Driver, Polecat & Counterweight, etc) and individuals. If they want a warboy under another Praetorian they must ask that Praetorian for him, the polite way is trading for him, but the more common way is bribing and stealing.

Imperators

Imperators do not: wear clay, use soot-paint.  Imperators: must be full-lives, use grease-paint, get a black scarf, can wear their hair unshaved, can raise others to the rank of Praetorian, get their own room, can enter any floor of the Citadel(barring the Vault and the Trove), have unlimited water, can nominate others for the rank of Imperator. Only Immortan Joe can raise someone to the rank of Imperator.  Imperators have their own personal crew and are in charge of a number of Praetorians and the Praetorians’ crews. Imperators can reassign the crews and teams of the Praetorians under them as they like without anyone's permission, but cannot alter another Imperator's crews. It's common for Imperators to trade for/steal other Imperator's Praetorians and crews.

Black-Thumb

Black-Thumbs are mechanics and repairboys and rev-heads that permanently stay in the shops. There's many sub-roles/specialties beneath the umbrella term of Black-Thumb. There's one Imperator in charge of the Garage and the WorkShop with a couple Praetorians and Praetorian's crews under him.

Green-Thumb

Green-Thumbs take care of the Greenery and the hydroponics. There's many sub-roles/specialties beneath the umbrella term of Green-Thumb. There's one Imperator and his crew that are in charge of the Greenery and all the Green-Thumbs.

Red-Thumb

Red-Thumbs work in the BloodShed beneath the Organic Mechanic, they are essentially the Organic Mechanic's crew. There's many sub-roles/specialties beneath the umbrella term of Red-Thumb.

Hunter

Hunters are Warboys that go out into the wastelands to hunt down edibles and valuables for the Citadel. Things like bloodbags, meat, cars, scrap, beforeworld things. There's one Imperator and his crew in charge, with only two Praetorians and their crews under him. There is a separate specialty Imperator and crew that is in charge of finding Chrome full-life wives for the Immortan.

Gatekeeper

Full-lives that are in charge of operating and ensuring the maintenance of the Lift. Sometimes also referred to as the Lift Guardians.

Doof Wagon Crew

The Warboys of the Doof Wagon. The Coma-Doof Warrior's crew. Includes sub-roles of Drummers, Sparkers(hooking up the wires and electricity), Lancers, Driver, Outerguard(separate bikers/drivers to defend the wagon), etc.

Sentries

The lookouts and snipers responsible of warning and defending the Citadel of anyone approaching. All Warboy Sentries are part of the Sentry Imperator's personal crew. Save for a few Wayboys and pups that are brought on to test their compatibility.

Gunsmith/Gun-Repairer

A full-life on loan from the Bullet Farm. Their services are usually only available to people of Praetorian rank and higher.

Road Warrior

A nomadic wastelander who is self-reliant, skilled in combat, resourceful in finding fuel and supplies, an expert driver, and adept at navigating the desolate, lawless roads. Warboys keep tabs on the Road Warriors that dare to regularly skirt the edges of the Citadel's territory (getting close to the Citadel wards of all but the boldest of the wasteland's scavs and vultures). Sometimes going out to hunt them down and sometimes following them to track down resources. The Hunter Imperator has a few Road Warriors that he's built up a sort of alliance with. He'll trade with them, either for physical items or information. He gave his allies a marker to display, that tells the Citadel's Warboy patrollers to leave them alone. It mostly works.

Wayboys and Bedrooms

Warboys

In the early days, when there was less space, it was tradition for warboys to carve and dig out the walls, making their own alcove to claim. This has largely fallen out of practice, as the turn over rate of the warboys leads to there almost always being empty alcoves to claim. Infighting over alcoves that are considered 'the best’ remains rampant.  Warboys are also known to carve out personal nooks just about anywhere the wall depth allows, rules were quickly implemented about what walls can and cannot be carved into, to prevent the citadel from coming down around their ears. To circumvent uncarvable walls, Warboys will embed hooks into the walls or ceiling to securely suspend beds and platforms, building these nests absolutely everywhere.

Praetorians

Praetorians usually claim some small section of the Shops level as their own Territory and customise it as they like, but have been known to claim Territory in the Pit as well. There was one bold Praetorian that befriended the GateKeepers and was allowed to claim Territory on the Lift level.

Imperators

Imperators get ‘Grottos’. They’re one of the highest levels of the second tower, have windows(not glass), bedding, doors with locks, and direct access to aquacola.

Coma-Doof

The Coma-Doof Warrior was granted his own Den as a reward from Immortan for his singular talents, most of his rooms are open to the sky, with many hammocks of varying sizes in every room. His rooms have the same amenities as an Imperator's Grotto and are connected to a smaller lower floor that he arranged to be given to his Drummers and crew.

The general opinions on the bunks goes(from least cushy chrome to most):

Nest, Nook, Alcove, Territory, Grotto, Den, Trove(Immortan & sons rooms), Vault(the Wives)

Towers

The levels (and floors) of the Citadel's Towers, Listed highest to lowest.

The First Tower

The Garden The Crown(Vault, Trove(Immortan&Sons), Gallery/Balcony) Immortan’s Court(Parlour(milkers), Aviary(high breeders))

The Second Tower

The Greenery The Doof Den(Coma-Doof's rooms, Drummers Alcove) The Grottos (Imperators Rooms) The Court(Nursery(cubs), Roost(damis), Abbey(low breeders)) The Kennels The Shops(Wheel Shrine, Blood Bank, Organic-Mechanic/Bloodshed, Garage and WorkShop, TradeHaul) The Lift(The Mill, GateKeepers Rooms)   The Pit(Wreck(recreation), Mess(cafeteria), Clay Pools, Dorms, Alcoves)

The Third Tower

Staffed by and home to lifted wretched and a few Warboys to manage them, it has no named levels but contains: The kitchens, the Mill-Rats housing, waste-workers, plumbers, tanners, etc.

The Ranks of Roles

Rankings within the Citadel According to Warboys(most important to least):

Immortan Wife Organic-Mechanic Imperator Imperator's Second Praetorian  Imperator's Crew Praetorian's Second Praetorian's Crew Cub Coma-Doof Pups GateKeeper Dami Doof Wagon Crew  Sentries Gunsmith/Gun-Repairer Hunters Red-Thumb Black-Thumb Green-Thumb(Very important job, but garners no inherent respect. Almost a non-entity really.) Unclaimed Warboy  Road Warrior BloodBag Wretched/Wasteland Scavs 

How Ranks are applied to the sub-roles of a Crew(also how Unclaimed Warboys without crews are ranked against each other):

First of any role (First Lancer, First Driver, First Polecat, etc) Car Driver Bike Driver Polecat Sniper Lancer  Counterweight  Rev-head (Rev-Head refers to any Warboy that knows how to fix cars/bikes, but if they're not in a crew or an official Black-Thumb they're low ranked) Pissboy

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

[bigstupid69]

They're all here now!!

Mischa was the first one I did so if his sheet looks off and poorly formatted it's cause it is…

Headcanons below the cut

Mischa

☣ Now before I say anything "why are all the boys with each other" uhm cause I was indecisive on if I liked starrypoet, spacerap, or nischa better, I still ship mischalia honestly sometimes even more. So I just threw the rest of them into the polycule regardless

☣ He is a short king, short Mischa truthers rise he is literally only an inch taller than Ocean, she probably intimidates him more than the other way away around (Need more absolutely unhinged Ocean's who are one point away from screaming at someone, Trinity theater Ocean changed my life/j)

☣ He's practically Ezra's adoptive older brother at this point, bond over the Saw franchise and ICP. He's surprisingly good with kids, like he's a good guy he just looks intimidating and crusty, which I did on purpose. But he is literally the sweetest one in the choir, super physically affectionate, gives good hugs.

☣ Along with Penny he also constantly looks like he's been shoved down a flight of stairs, which he claims is because he's gotten into fights. It's not, he just fell down the stairs like her. He wants to think he's all tough and everything but it's like the complete opposite, he's a dork.

Ricky

☄ They are best friends with pretty much everyone except Ocean for obvious reasons. Constance and them make Kandi together. He's wearing two Kandi necklaces on his uniform, both of them loosely based on the Kandi singlets I made for the choir members. (which of course you have no context to unless you're the like 5 people I've shown them to.)

☄ They're breaking so many dress code rules and the school is just too tired to care. Dyes his hair regularly with Constance, also I know lots of people love the Savannah Potts hc, it's cute!! But I physically cannot draw masc presenting people without shitty facial hair. It's an addiction. I'm so sorry.

☄ Their art style definitely is similar to the late 2000s anime style every shitty windows movie maker slideshow presentation had. with a mix of warrior cats and sparkle dogs. I couldn't really present that in the like 4 inch amount of space I gave myself.

☄ Him and Constance have matching tamagotchis, Noel also used to have one but it died and he sobbed for hours and never wanted to touch it again out of sheer guilt of killing a virtual pet.

Constance

♡ I'm ngl I like pretty much every Constance ship except for blackrose and kept seeing sugarspace art and thought it was cute. So there you go sugarspace crumbs, I'll draw them probably at one point.

♡ She is literally the reason why the choir is like mentally and physically stable. Course that's very mentally draining and never said it's a good thing!! She's probably pushed into the group therapist role at points, I hate the "mom friend" headcanon at points, it's accurate, but at points it can be really toxic, coming from personal experiences.

♡ She definitely shops at hot topic with Ricky and collects a bunch of really cheap fandom merch. Usually bracelets and necklaces, also really into styling hair. She braids Penny and Ocean's hair sometimes, and as mentioned before dyes her hair with Ricky.

♡ I don't like blackrose at all but they've dated for like… a day. It was not a great time. (Literally just one of those absolutely pointless middle school relationships that you forget about like immediately after a breakup)

[deadindeathvalley]

Hey gen z

I really thought this generation was going to pull through and help us make change this time around. I'm a young millennial. I'm not even that much older than y'all. But it's evident that there's a huge problem. Obviously this is a generalization and not all gen z is like this, but we need to talk. Now read this whole thing before you react.

Last year it made my heart swell seeing all these young people rally around Palestine. I thought it meant our country was moving forward. But this election really showed that y'all don't care about anyone who doesn't align with your specific political beliefs.

You have a majority of young Gen z men voting for trump, this whole "your body my choice" trend, and the absolutely horrifically racist behavior I've seen on the internet. You also have a lot of trades wife pick me girls bringing back ED culture and throwing tantrums when they see a fat person existing.

Then you come over to the left and it's full of tankies and people insisting that Dems and GOP are exactly the same and there's no point in voting. They hate liberal women seemingly more than they hate conservatives and take anything they do as a personal offence. They poopoo on any efforts to organize and call anything that isn't violent "performative." They see that 53% of white women voted for trump (which is less than in 2020) and accuse every white woman of being a fake progressive who secretly voted for trump or of having a trump supporting boyfriend.

Gen z refuses to have nuanced conversations and insists on infighting and hating liberals whom they have more in common with than the actual enemy. They are evangelical in their beliefs on both sides. They won't listen to older activists who have experience because they're "out of touch." They lack social skills and empathy, and push away anyone who tries to find common ground.

Y'all are making me feel old with this behavior. I will always be a leftist in my beliefs but I want nothing to do with our community. It's toxic and cannibalistic. Y'all act like mean girls and force people to submit to you. It's wild. Meanwhile liberals are trying to find solidarity with their blue bracelets and their pink hats and trying to support each other. Maybe you think it's corny but at least they're doing SOMETHING besides rotting in their bed and bullying people on the internet.

A lot of you live in these leftist little echo chambers, whether that's physically or online. You put statistics theory and articles over real people's experiences and don't understand that the majority of the country isn't as far left as you. If you want leftist politicians and policies then you have to give people a reason to vote for your cause. Some people just aren't aware, and you bullying them for not aligning with you will not make them want to vote for your guy. You have to have GENUINE conversations with people which a lot of you seem incapable of.

I'm not saying other generations aren't problematic in their own way, but I've spent a lot of time in leftist gen z spaces and my mental health hit an all time low during that time. It was full of a bunch of miserable people hazing anyone that wasn't as miserable as them. It was full of people preaching theory like it was the bible and blocking anyone who tried to have a nuanced conversation. They call anyone with spiritual beliefs a grifter and a liar and use the world liberal like it's a slur.

I need y'all to get your shit together and learn to be empathetic EVEN towards people you perceive as more privileged than you. Gen Z has a real problem with dehumanization, and I know because I almost fell into that trap. Learn to be kind to strangers, care about people different than you, and dismantle your individualism and maybe we'll get somewhere as a country.

Until then I'll see anyone wearing a blue bracelet as someone who's trying. I see you. Let's build a community.

Love,

Your older sibling.

[muppetears-stuff]

do you have any headcanons about Warren or other characters you like ?

Yes. Yes, I do. Thank you for asking!! ^^ more under the cut cause this gonna be long- :3

so, headcanons vvv

Bisexual. But that's just fanon-

I have a whole bunch of headcanons for double exposure Warren/design concepts that I have only thought of yet😔😔 but I will tell!!!

I love the idea of him having long hair, longer hair than original game Warren. He has it in a low ponytail, or I might just keep it down.

He's a lot more confident in his style and personality than teenage him, so I like to think he still sports the undershirts but wears jackets a lot more now, too. Lanyard covered in pins, and his student ID/regular ID, taking that from his original concept design for the first game because a lanyard feels SO Warren to me,,,,

Breaking away from double exposure thoughts. It's canon that he's friends with most girls at Blackwell. I like to think he's invited to sleepovers and hangouts sometimes, even if he's awkward around them, but he's one of the nicest guys at Blackwell. The girls are taking advantage of that.

I love the thought of nervous characters biting their nails (like me. And Warren is me /hj), and so he paints them/let's the girls paint them, it's to keep him from biting his nails off. If they're pretty or have something on them, he's not gonna wanna bite :]

Listens to bloodhound gang and Weezer. Specifically, "I wish I was queer so I could get chicks." By bloodhound gang and "I just threw out the love of my dreams." By Weezer. And weird al,,,,

He would've had such a wonderful dynamic between Chloe and Max, and I love to think that some rebel/mischievous part of him admired Chloe. He would drop everything to help Max and one of her friends if they needed help, as shown in the game. So he would've definitely helped with the mystery behind Rachel.

The type of guy to take one compliment from someone and think about it for the rest of his life. keeps him up at night type thing. /pos

Flocked to Max and thought he liked her, but it was just because she was the first person who made him feel seen and appreciated and made him feel like a person. He says it in the game, and it makes me cry, so it's not really a headcanon, but the first part is-

Gifted kid shame and burn out. Cries over getting a low grade or score and can not physically function for a week. I would love the idea of in game, him hanging around Chloe and Max, where some of his dialogue is him talking about how he should be back at Blackwell studying but finding what happened to Rachel is more important than an English paper.

If he does something cool as hell, he's gonna recognize it's cool as hell and gets giddy when someone else recognizes that it was cool. (the craving for validation, I get it.)

Mom friend, I have decided. Warren is not opposed to a little tomfoolery, maybe a bit of property damage, but if anyone got hurt while doing so, he's there with a bandaid and disinfectant immediately.

Presented Max with the idea of matching costumes for Halloween, Paulie Bleeker and Juno Macguff from Juno 2007, but she declined ,:3 (they are literally them!!!)

He's overly dramatic about things and will pull out the puppy dog eyes to get what he wants (which isn't a alot, he's a simple man.)

Bag, lanyard, jacket. COVERED in pins and patches of his interests/bands he likes

Has bumper stickers of movie references

Named his car. Her name is Lauren.

Mom knits things for him like sweaters, beanies, and mittens, and it's always a lovely gift during December<33 complete momma's boy.

Has vocal stims of random references that make him giggle way too much, repeats them for no reason. Picks at his cuticles or underneath his fingernails or messes with his undershirt sleeves. Constantly wiping his hands on his jeans. Big hand talker too :3

Wears a ton of wrist bands/bracelets and definitely ends up wearing concert wrist bands they give to you at the door for longer than needed because he forgets to take them off-

Is creatively stunted and can't visualize things properly. He wishes he had the creative brain that Max does so he can maybe see the world outside of facts and pre-established knowledge. Has a hard time writing because of it.

And that's it :DD I could probably do a part 2 with other characters,,,of course, if that is desired💖💖 thank you for asking!!

[tommoschaffner]

« much more than i bargained for »

little warning uh im a minor !! nsfw blogs dni please ^_^

summary — steve goes in for snacks, and comes out with a FAT crush.

promt — ‘ candy ‘

this will have multiple chapters that i will post whenever i have the energy to write more ^_^ im often busy with school+homework ++ so dont expect weekly updates or whatever LOL

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

Steve sighs as he enters the shop, the little one at the top of his street, right at the corner. There’s music playing through the speakers, but not the usual kind he hears at the shops. Steve wants to say it’s— cooler? Yeah, cooler.

He bobs his head to the beat a little as he wanders inside, a high-pitched bell ringing as he does. The guy working the till’s head shoots up at the sound, like he’s scared or something. He makes eye contact with Steve, before smiling softly and looking back down.

Steve lets his eyes trail down his body, following his arms, down to his hands, where they’re holding a magazine between his slender legs, which are hanging off an old wooden stool.

He’s got tattooed wrists, and forearms, and hands. His fingers are decorated with delicate little designs, which are mostly covered with his many rings. Steve notices one in particular, a silver band with two little bat wings. It matches the tattoo just under his elbow, the one of a swarm of bats. His eyes begin to travel back up, spotting a bunch of, what look like, homemade bracelets on one of his wrists. They have words, but it’s not like Steve can read them, not from this far away.

It’s a few minutes before Steve realises he literally hasn’t peeled his eyes off the cashier, or even moved at all. He snaps back into reality when another customer enters, ringing the bell behind him.

Fuck, what was he in here for again? Oh— yeah, snacks. Candy. Robin and Nance are probably bored of waiting for him. Or not, Steve doesn't think they could get bored even if they tried, not when they have a house to themselves.

Steve finally moves, and he swears to God, every single one of his bones have been replaced with jelly.

As he wonders around the shop, crossing the different foods Robin requested off his list, he makes a mental note of how much money he’s gonna need.

A dollar fifty, three dollars, four dollars and ninety-nine cents.

He ends up with candy, and drinks, which all amounts to ten dollars and fifty cents.

Steve sort of doesn’t notice that he’s at the counter ‘til the guy behind it asks if he wants a bag. They’re so close now, Steve can see what he looks like up close. He has these gorgeous eyes, that sort of droop down at the ends. Thick, dark, eyelashes that cast a shadow on his cheeks. And, most notably, long, curled hair. A rich, dark brown colour. Strands of it lay on his shoulders, almost blocking the view of the badge on his shirt, his name tag, that says ‘Eddie’, in little, blue letters.

“Do you? Want a bag, I mean,” Eddie repeats, seemingly now a little annoyed. Steve watches his lips when he speaks, and, fuck, he’s pierced. Angel fangs, Steve recalls in his head. That’s what they’re called, the ones that look like sharp, shiny teeth. He wonders what they’d feel like if he kissed Eddie, how they contrast of his plush, warm lips with cold, hard metal would feel. The thoughts send a wave of heat rushing through Steve’s belly.

“No, I— I’m okay, I’ve got my own,” he says, pulling his rucksack off his shoulders and unzipping it.

Eddie just smiles that same, soft smile, tells Steve how much money he needs to give him.

And Steve gives him the money, wordlessly. He puts his shopping in his bag, wordlessly. And he looks back up at Eddie, again, wordlessly. Like he’s expecting him to do something else. Or maybe he’s waiting on himself to do something.

Eddie swears he can hear the cogs turning in Steve’s brain.

“Well— okay, uh, bye, thank you!” Steve smiles, and practically sprints out of the shop.

He rushes home with a million thoughts in his head, the main one being something along the lines of ‘why, in the absolute fuck, didn’t you ask for his number? Or at least try to make small talk?’

Steve can’t answer that. He doesn't know why.

Well, there’s always next time.