#I think about getting certified but then doubt I can stand for that long to give massages

[simplyghosting]

I am a decent amateur masseuse (never took a class, just instinct, so not licensed to practice or anything). And today I was massaging someone’s hands and ???? I did not know people’s hands could be that rock solid. I sat there for 20min digging my knuckles into the fat of the thumb trying to get circulation back in it. The guy’s fingers were barely bending from the muscle tension and pressure. He said it was from using a power washer at work but my gosh I was wondering if there was a medical condition worst condition I’ve ever seen for hands

[villainousauthor]

The hero wrinkles their nose at smell of antiseptic wipes, at the cold feel against their skin, as the villain prepares to draw more blood. They've lost count how many vials Villain has taken at this point.

Hero winces, trying to flinch away at the inevitable sharp pinch, and Villain digs their fingers into their arm some more. They press hard, cold hands keeping them still. "If I mess up, I'll have to stick you again." They warn, voice level. Paper crinkles under where Hero sits, the soft sound filling the silence.

Hero keeps their gaze downward, the bright florescent lights over head giving them a headache. You think with how long they've been here, they would have gotten used to the ugly, artificial glare, but they miss the sun.

They look up at Villain through their lashes, who's currently too focused on their current task to notice, eyebrows pinched together as they seem deep in thought.

"I doubt you're even certified to be drawing blood in the first place." Hero ribs, voice quiet, the words light but the humor just quite not there.

Villain snorts, as they finish and pull the IV out gently. "I've seemed to be able to do it fine all these weeks." They apply the cotton bandage to the area, securing it in place, though it's honestly not necessary, the small wound already likely healed.

Hero knows they shouldn't be trying to make Villain laugh, or trying to lighten the tense air that surrounds their every interaction. They should be attempting to escape, should be fighting tooth and nail against the strange experiments their arch nemesis insists on trying, but so many failed escapes and so many weeks without the presence of any other person has them weak for any human contact they can get.

They've almost begun to mistake the way Villain grabs their arm when taking blood, the way Villain's cold hand holds their face still when swabbing their mouth, the way they stand close when checking their vitals, as misplaced forms of affection.

It's pure delusion, Hero knows this, but they crave another persons touch so much they can almost believe it. Thinking about it too much makes their head hurt more than even the obnoxious overhead lights do.

Villain takes their silence as a sign to continue speaking. "Soon enough, I'll find the secret behind how your regenerative abilities work and then I'll be unstoppable." They say cleaning up, and placing the three tubes of blood they took on the tray to their left. Hero's head swirls as they watch the swishing of the dark red liquid.

Facing them again, still standing close, Villain's eyes finally meet Hero's and their voice softens slightly when they say this next part. "I won't have to poke and prod you so much when I do." Their voice is gentle enough that Hero wants to believe them, to trust them.

Hero licks their dry lips, voice cracking slightly. "Will...will you finally let me go once you do?" The question Hero has been avoiding asking this whole time.

The question gives Villain pause, as they seem to consider it for a moment. They step closer, placing their hands on either side of where Hero sits, bracketing them in. "I could...I probably should.." Villain's voice is whisper quiet as they stand inches away, breath fanning over Hero's ear.

"But I think prefer keeping you for myself."

[sillyandquest]

Y'all know the cardboard cutouts in Poppy Playtime?

I like to think that they're a small glimpse in those characters personalities, and what they would've been like if we'd been able to interact with them in-game. The cutouts also seem to indicate the sanity level of each Smiling Critter.

This'll be a long one, I'll see you at the end of you wanna read!

Spoilers:

Anyway, that means Bubba Bubbafant would've been outwardly friendly, yet still resentful of the player. He also might've been losing his sanity quickly, probably due to CatNap's gas.

"Hey! I remember you!.....An elephant always remembers!.......Want to know what I remember about you?........*Devolves into hysterical laughter/screams/glitches.*"

Had he been in the game as a Bigger Body experiment, I doubt he would go out of his way to help. He might've just hidden himself away like Kissy and Poppy, or fully lost it before he could try to help the player and got killed off.

Next is Kickin' Chicken. He's different in that he seems like he would've provided encouragement to the player, maybe even try and protect them.

"Wanna go outside and hang out?.... I've never been outside before.........Will you come with me? I'm scared.......Here, I'll step out first......*screams/glitches.*"

He also seems to have been killed off early, maybe he was even the first Critter to be killed. (He's embracing his inner Chica now-). I say this because, aside from DogDay, Kickin' Chicken seems the most sane in comparison to all the Critters.

CatNap's cut out doesn't have much other than breathing noises and snores that devolve into glitches.

Picky Piggy sounds sane, but I think she probably ate some of the other Critters. Probably Bubba Bubbafant, Kickin' Chicken, and Crafty Corn. If she could interact with the player, I think she'd be friendly at first before showing her true colors.

"Roast beef? Delicious!......Grilled chicken? Down the hatch!......Seared Elephant! Yum!......Flayed Unicorn? Mmmmm!.......Still hungry.....Hey, what do ya say you and I be friends?"

She definitely wouldn't have been helpful, and would've absolutely tried to eat the player.

I think Hoppy Hopscotch could've tried to help as a Bigger Body experiment, maybe a little pushy and impatient towards the player. Probably because she's desperate to escape.

"Wanna try hopping to the moon with me?.....On three with me!....1, 2, 3!...Heh, didn't get very far, did we?.....Listen, this won't stop until we make it to the moon!.....1, 2- No,no, don't look at your feet! None of that matters! Again! Again!.....Jump! JUUUU- *glitches out*"

She seemed to have a good heart and wanted to help but was likely taken out while escaping. I'd call her sane enough to be trusted, just desperate.

DogDay is certified best boy and definitely would've wanted to help you, even at the cost of his life/freedom. He knows this is a terrible place to be in and wants the player to leave as soon as possible.

"Go, go! As far as you can!......Why are you just standing there?.....You can't be here, you can't stay......*screams/glitches.*"

He knows he can't leave and encouraged the player go. He sounds sad when he speaks. Would likely be the last Critter to stick by the players side no matter what.

Crafty Corn up next! She seems very focused on painting and almost definitely killed someone because she was out of red.

"Pass me the blue please!.....Thanks! Now can you give me some red?.....Out? But we can't be out..... You're hiding more red from me......I know you are.....GIVE IT HERE *glitchy screams*

Yeah, I wouldn't really trust her. She'd be fine by herself or if the player gives her all the materials she asks for, but Crafty would've probably gotten agitated and attacked quickly.

Finally, Bobby Bearhug! She comes across as super loving, but also clingy and desperate for an escape. Sounding a little unhinged at times. If the player could've interacted with her, she might've clung to them, possibly even protected them if they convinced her that she could go with them.

"I love you to the moon and back!..... I'm crazy about you!.....I'm lost without you.....I've been lost a long time......Please, take me with you this time?.....You won't leave me, will you?!."

She sounds like she's lonely and craves companionship. Her cutout is actually the only one that doesn't end in glitches or screams so I think the player could've trusted her. She might've had a fragile mental state, but I don't think she would've tried to kill you.

Thanks for reading til the end! Stay safe!

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FIVE: GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LOVER BOY

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SUMMARY ↳ Spider-Man and homecoming, when did that ever end well? He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?” You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said. “Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: fear gas (people get affected but it's not described), spiking drinks (not with the intention of taking advantage of anyone) wc: 5.9k

Your mind is elsewhere as you perform your warm-up stretches in the dance studio. Progress with the particle accelerator had been slow. Tony Stark had access to all the materials he needed when he built it, but you don’t. Not to mention all of the welding, cutting and assembling you’ll have to do. You're occupied in your thoughts, but you still hear footsteps approaching.

Victoria. She has her hands on her hips and is looking at you like you’re the nasty chore she’s stuck with.

You raise a brow. “Yes, Vicky?”

Despite all of her faces of disgust when you call her that, she hasn’t demanded you stop calling her that.

“I don’t know why I expected you to be paying attention, clearly you are too airheaded otherwise,” she huffs.

“You’re right, dearest, I wasn’t paying attention. Please, enlighten me.”

“Our instructor has just announced a winter performance. For a grade, of course.”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“We,” she drags the word out, disgruntled, “are the leads.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “Oh. This’ll be fun.”

“I will not let you embarrass me, so I will make sure you are a suitable lead,” she huffs.

“And how do you plan to do that, my dear?” you sing, circling her. Your fingers tap her arms as you walk.

She clears her throat. “I will make sure you are paying well attention and are performing adequately.”

“Sounds good to me, princess,” you say, walking away and extending a hand to her. “Shall we?”

She sighs dramatically and puts her hand in yours. It’ll be a long couple of months.

Your extended leg rocks your web hammock back and forth as you think. A song is hummed under your breath, pondering your next move.

“How far is Metropolis from Gotham?”

“Depending on your method of travel, it could range from an hour to 4 hours.”

You have no doubt LexCorp is very well protected in terms of its security measures, but Lex Luther seems a bit of an arrogant man. If he were to find out you had managed to break in and swipe some material, he might not do anything in embarrassment of being had. On the other hand, he is also pretty paranoid, so you have no idea what type of crazy defenses he has.

WayneTech is a very hesitant maybe, for pretty much the same reasons. Batman will already be on alert from your little hacking show earlier.

“Perhaps we shall simply wait for the opportunity to present itself to us, [Name].”

“We’re trying to leave as soon as we can, K,” you whine, bouncing a web ball back and forth between the wall and you.

“You can’t rush perfection.”

“Oh, you flatter me, K.” You lean over and fall out of the hammock, landing gracefully. “But I can never argue with you, lovely. I guess I’ll just have to make due with stuff from the school.” Hopefully they don’t notice the decline of materials.

Patrol goes smoothly that night. You've gone back to listening to your certified patrol playlist now that you’ve gotten back in the groove of things. You hum to a beat as you walk alongside the roof, grooving slightly. You run through equations and formulas in your head as you think about your next headway with your project. You still notice the footsteps approaching, though.

“Which one are you?” you announce, shifting slightly. You don’t get an answer, so you turn around. The figure standing behind you is shrouded in darkness, but a glint of moonlight reveals a familiar silhouette.

“Nightwing!” you hum pleasantly. “Pleasure, quite a pleasure. To what do I owe the visit?”

Nightwing shrugs. “Standard stuff, really. Making sure Gothams latest pest problem isn’t up to no good.”

You chuckle. “That was pretty good.” You sit down on the ledge. “I assure you, blue, that I have Gotham’s best interest in mind.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Gotham likes you, for the most part.” Nightwing sits next to you. “Of course, the webs you leave irk them just a bit.”

“They dissolve,” you defend.

“They do,” he agrees, and lets the conversation die. Distant sounds of sirens fill the silence. You can see the blue and red lights from here. You and Nightwing share a moment of calm amidst the chaos.

“Every time I think Gotham can’t get any weirder, I hear news of a ‘giant spider’ terrorizing the criminal underworld.”

You snort, “yeah, that was my bad. I totally had rumors spread about that.” You can see his eyebrow raise underneath his domino. “It was funny!”

“I guess Gotham attracts all kinds of people,” he hums.

“And yet… it’s home,” you whisper.

Another brief silence settled between you, tinged with unspoken tension that always sneaks up on you in Gotham.

“So, did the big Bat put you up to this?” you ask, breaking the quietude.

Nightwing shrugs casually. “Nah, this is all me. Don’t worry though, I’m sure B will corner you eventually.”

“Charming,” you huff dryly against his chuckle.

“And of course, crime never sleeps in Gotham.”

“And so, neither do we,” you smile.

He turns to you. “Surely someone as young as you should be getting more sleep?”

You hum. “So Robin told you about little ole me, huh?” He shrugs sheepishly, in a can you blame him? kind of way. “Like I told him, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“So what’s a young person like you doing spending your nights fighting crime?”

You scoff, “oh, don’t give me that. The first Robin was barely out of diapers when Batman paraded him around.” You ignore Nightwings dramatic gasp of offense. “I’m doing the same as you, trying to make a difference.”

“But no one would blame you for just trying to live a normal life in spite of your abilities.” You’re not sure what exactly Nightwing is trying to achieve here other than getting you to spill something about yourself. What’s it to him what you do in your free time?

‘Yeah well, someone once told me something. Kind of changed my life a little.” You take a deep breath and recite the famous spidey quote, “With great power comes great responsibility.” You turn to face Nightwing. “I can’t in good faith live a normal life when there are people that need me. I have the power to help people, why wouldn’t I do just that?”

You hope your speech passes whatever test he had for you, and the way he stares at you before nodding suggests that you did.

“Just…” he hesitates. “... be careful out there. Gotham’s a tough place, even for someone with your talents.”

You’re not sure why he cares so much, but Dick Grayson does have a sort of a bleeding heart. You watch Nightwing stand, nodding at you before grappling away. It was nice to not have a more violent encounter with one of the Bats (looking at you, Damian). You’re left with the quiet of your own mind.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of dance rehearsals and lab work. Victoria, true to her word, pushes you hard. She ensures every step, every movement is perfect. You can’t help but admire her dedication.

“Remember,” she snaps one day during a particularly grueling practice, “lean into the spin. It will further your momentum, making your performance overall smoother.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you smirk. Your classmates take notice of the way the two of you dance around each other. You’re sure you both appear really intense to them.

One new development you’ve reluctantly acknowledged is homecoming . You don’t care much for it, you’d rather spend it working on the badassium or patrolling. However, it’s a good way to sneak in and take some more material, so you’ll probably show up for a bit then sneak away. You just have to get through all of the sickeningly sweet hoco proposals.

In other news, you’ve finished your painting that you were assigned for art. You stole one of Miles’ designs from his spray-paint pieces, you hope he won’t mind. It’s a figure outlined many times in all kinds of vivid and bright colors.

“What is it?” Pipes up Damian from your side. Lately you haven’t really interacted much, you’re far too busy trying to make this universe's history books.

“My project,” you reply vaguely. At his unimpressed stare you elaborate, “it’s supposed to be a bunch of different versions of one person. Different people living the same life, one person living different lives, yadda yadda.”

Damian hums, satisfied. You take a breath, spinning in your chair to face him. “So, Damian,” you start, smiling at the way Damian’s face automatically scrunches in irritation. “Anyone special in mind for hoco?”

Damian tsk’s at the thought. “I will not waste my time indulging in such a frivolous activity.”

“Yeah, spiked punch and sweaty teens grinding on each other probably isn’t your vibe,” you agree.

“Then what better things do you plan on doing?” You rest your legs on his side of the table, invading his space. He ignores it, to his credit. He’s gotten used to your antics.

“Doing something far away from you.” You bark out a laugh at his response. You retract your legs and massage your feet. For all your super strength and resilience, ballet is still killer.

Damian eyes your movements. “How are your dance classes progressing?” Damian’s gotten better at conversing, you’re just surprised he chooses to do so with you. But then again, you’re sure he still thinks you’re the number one suspect as to who Spinnerette is.

“Victoria is a delight, as always,” you roll your eyes. “She’s more of a teacher to me than the actual instructor. She’s thorough though, knows her stuff.” You pause. “Think she’ll say yes if I ask her to hoco?”

His eyes narrow. “You jest.”

You close your eyes and nod. “I jest. I stand no chance because she’s waiting for you to ask her,” you grin, eyeing his eye roll. You furrow your brow in thought. “They accept people from other schools, right? Maybe I’ll ask Jon…”

He straightens in his seat. “Jon?”

“Oh yeah, you guys are friends, forgot.” You didn’t forget. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out lately.” It’s true, Jon frequents at least once a week for movie night. You’ve also exchanged numbers, affectionately naming him ‘please get this boy some brown contacts’ in your phone. “You think he’d say yes?”

“Do not even think about asking him,” growls Damian. Woah.

You hold up your hands in defense. “My bad dude, didn’t know it was like that.” Jeez, it’s not like you're going to corrupt Jon or anything. Then, you slump in your seat. “Maybe I’ll just skip it, then. Going alone is only cool if you’re cool.”

“If it means so little to you, why bother?”

“Opportunities, D. It’s all about opportunities. Plus, who knows? I could be missing out on the chance for something big. Like my rich future spouse.” Damian scoffs, and the bell rings. You grab your stuff and set off to practice, Damian falling into step beside you. You groan.

“Come on, man. Vicky’ll put me through hell when she see you with me.”

‘Maybe that’s my plan,” he smirks.

“One moment of peace with you. That's all I want.” Predictably, Victoria’s eyes narrow when Damian drops you off at the studio. However, she doesn’t waste time fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Hurry, get dressed,” she demands, turning away from you two. You share a look of surprise with Damian as you step inside. Perhaps this show is more important to her than you thought. You get changed in record time, hurrying back out lest you encourage Victoria’s wrath further.

The hour passes in a blur of graceful movements. Your hands grasp Victoria’s waist as you lift and spin her. She spreads her arms and legs with all the elegance of a true dancer. You wonder if she wasn’t set to inherit whatever her parent’s set aside for her, would she have pursued a career in dance?

“You’re getting the hang of it,” she admits, a hint of begrudging approval in her voice.

“Only because of you,” you flirt, smiling with your teeth. She rolls her eyes but says nothing.

A knock sounds on the door. The instructor gets a giddy grin on her face and practically hops over to open in. You and the rest of the students stop practicing in curiosity. Behind the door is your typical jock type, with a bouquet and a poster in his hands that says ‘Will you PLIÉse go to Hoco with me?’ It’s clever, you’ll give him that.

“Victoria Hearst, will you do me the honor of going to homecoming with me?” Your classmates clap and cheer in awe of it. Victoria gasps, walking up to the jock, but pausing. To your huge surprise, she turns to you. Her eyebrows are furrowed, like she’s confused.

You’re not sure why she’s looking at you. Maybe she’s waiting for your approval? You can’t think of why she would want it. Personally you wouldn’t be caught dead with his type, but maybe he’s sweet on the inside or something. You give a smile and gesture her forward.

She purses her lips, before smiling charmingly at the boy, nodding. The class erupts in cheers once again as the pair hug. The instructor, for all her giddiness earlier, quickly snaps at everyone to go back to their places. Practice continues well into the evening. You get a small wave from Victoria when you depart home, a pleasant surprise.

You end up outfit shopping with Jon the day before homecoming. The boutique you’re in isn’t too fancy, even though you can afford more with Bruce Wayne’s ever so gracious stipend.

“Maybe I should wear blue, the same shade as your eyes. I like them,” you mutter, thinking. Nothing here particularly catches your eye. You suppose you shouldn’t care so much, it makes no difference to you. Besides, you won’t be spending much time at the dance anyway, you’ve got material to steal after all. But Tony has instilled the art of appearances into you, and you don’t want to disgrace his teachings.

Jon gulps beside you, still not used to your random flirting's despite the fact it’s been weeks. “I thought you had a thing for hot pink?” he asks as you pick up some simple heeled dress shoes.

“Yeah, but I’m not going for a bold look this time around.” You place your hands on your hips. “Maybe just plain old black is the way to go,” you say, grabbing a black suit off the rack and examining it. You hang it over your arm, deciding that it will be the way to go. It’ll be easier to hide in the crowd when you look like the rest of ‘em. “Now, for accessories…” you mutter, looking at the earrings on display. You pick up some faux emerald studs and examine them.

“I like this ring,” Jon pipes up. You turn around and see he’s holding a simple flowery ring with a blue gemstone in it. You hold out a hand and he slips the band onto your ring finger. It looks at home.

“Looks good,” you agree. You pack up the earrings, ring and the suit and take it to the register. You pay for it and Jon picks up the bag for you. What a gentleman.

The walk back to your apartment is filled with mindless chatter between the two of you. Nari greets you when you open the door, meowing real cutely. You press a bunch of kisses on his skull, because he deserves them. Jon places the bag on your couch.

“Well, since I’m not allowed to ask you the hoco, I’ll try it on just for you, yeah?”

Jon blinks. “Not allowed?”

“I mentioned it to Damian, and he made it very clear I was not allowed to take you.” You lean in and whisper in his ear, “between you and me, I think it’s because he wants to ask you.”

Jon snorts. “I doubt that,” he mumbles, watching you go to your bedroom to change. “I would have had to say no anyway, I’m… busy that day.”

“Well, I guess I was saved from an awkward moment,” you holler through the door. You make sure you look clean and put together before stepping out. You spread your arms and do a twirl.

“Well?” you ask.

Jon’s mouth is ever so slightly agape. His eyes seem to sparkle a little as he looks at you. Blue meets blue when he stares at the ring on your finger. You watch as he stands up, walking over to you.

He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?”

You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said.

“Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars.

You chuckle, abashed. He holds out his hand for you, waiting.

“Oh, wait!” you gasp. You dash over to your laptop, opening youtube. Jon watches as your fingers dash over the keyboard. ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ fills your apartment. The song has always reminded you of him. You race back to Jon, finally putting your hand in his. He quickly pulls you close to him.

“Queen?” he chuckles, placing his hands on your waist. You throw your hands over his shoulders, scoffing. “Nothing wrong with Queen.”

“No,” he agrees, swaying with you. You spend the rest of the evening together.

Walking into the academy’s gym, you’re immediately blasted with loud music and colorful lights. Everyone is looking quite dapper, but like you suspected, a bunch of black suits. You fit right in.

You sip a bit of the punch, grimacing. Nobody spiked it yet? You’re surprised. Yeah, this is a prestigious school or whatever, but teenagers will be teenagers. You guess they’re all too pussy to do it. No worries, you’ll do it for them.

“I don’t believe this is wise,” says Karen as you pour some alcohol into the bowl. “It’s only a little amount,” you reassure. “Drunk people are less likely to notice things.”

You observe the people of your school. They’ve long gotten used to your presence, hesitantly making room for you. Still, you aren’t really a part of them. You sigh. You know you sound like a broken record, but you really have to get back home. The last time someone stayed on an Earth not their own was Miguel, and well… you know how that ended.

In other news, you’ve spotted Victoria! She looks real pretty, all dolled up. Her hands grip a cup of punch as she stands next to whats-his-face. He’s chatting with his jock friends, completely ignoring her! Hell no, you’re not gonna let that slide.

You wait for his friends to go away before sneaking up on him. “You better dance with her, asshole.” It’s satisfying to see him jump and look around to see who said that, but you already walked away. He scratches his head, before walking over to Victoria. It’s satisfying to see her face light up as they walk to the dance floor. Your job here is done.

You find your way to the gym doors, peaking into the hallways. No one’s there, surprisingly. You scurry down the hall. You visit the lab first, swiping any and all things you think you might need. The blueprints left behind by Howard Stark are kind of obscure. They weren’t meant for anybody but Tony, after all.

Next you make headway to your engineering workshop. Seeing it now, it looks pretty spooky without the lights on. You walk into the storage closet where all the materials and parts are kept. It’s actually pretty big. You think you might be in Heaven. You set your backpack down and go through everything. You stuff various metals and scrap into it, tools and switches, fans and whatnot. Then, you spot it. A glass chamber, hidden in the corner.

You grab it carefully, examining it. It’s the perfect size for your nanite chamber! You grin. You have no idea why there’s a big glass tube just in here, but hey, you’re not complaining. You carefully make room for it in your bag, hauling it over your shoulder. You poke your head out in the hallway, no one’s there. You sigh, content with your scavenge. Humming under your breath, you make your way out of the school.

behind you right behind you grabbing yOU–!

You turn around quickly, eyes wide. You just looked around, there was no one there! A hand lays outstretched in the air before you. Your eyes travel up the offender's arm and meet green. Damian. Of course.

“I thought you didn’t have time for such frivolous activities,” you blurt, for lack of something better to say. You grip your bag strap tight.

“Who else would keep an eye on you?” he grunts. You coo, “do I attract your eye, then?” Performing a spin, you miss the way he looks you up and down.

He reaches out and flicks your emerald earring. “Tell me why I shouldn’t report you for theft,” he says as he gestures to your bag.

“Because I’m… awesome?” you try. It doesn’t work, clearly. Damian’s looking at you like you’re the very epitome of ‘human disaster’. “It’s for my personal project, lay off.”

Damian steps closer to you, and you finally have the time to really take him in. He’s got a simple dress shirt covered by a black vest. Dress pants, dress shoes, all looking very expensive. An elegant satin green tie pulls it all together. You hum appreciatively as you look him up and down.

“And what exactly does this ‘project’ entail?” he murmurs, grasping your hand and examining the ring. Flirting with you to get you to spill? Smooth.

“You like it?” you ask, referring to the ring. “Jon chose it.”

Damian furrows his brow immediately, looking at you. You grin. “He said he liked it on me, specifically.”

Damian huffs, dropping your hand. “I’m not building a world-ending weapon or anything. I’m allowed my hobbies,” you say, laying a hand on his chest as a way to calm him. “Honest.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to speak–

BOOM .

The ground rumbles, Damian grabbing you and you grabbing him. You stay locked together as you stand still, listening. Screams erupt, coming from the gym. Damian pushes you towards safety in a nearby janitor’s closet.

“Stay here, lock the door,” is all he says before running off towards the gym, no doubt planning to save the day as Robin. Way to be subtle.

Karen already knows what to do, letting the suit emerge from your bracelets under your sleeves. You sprint towards the gym, opening the doors silently. People are hiding behind and under tables, whimpering. There’s a gaping hole at the end of the gym, no doubt the loud explosion you heard earlier.

The one and only Scarecrow stands in the settling dust. He sure lives up to his name, that costume is frighteningly ugly. He raises his arms, canisters in hand, and throws them into the crowd. They explode with a hiss, releasing plumes of noxious gas. Hell. No.

You spring into action, webbing the canisters to try and block the spread of the fear gas quickly. A few gasps are heard from the students. You turn to them. “The fuck are you waiting around, for? Run!” They heed your call, quickly finding their way to the doors on the other side of the gym. Scarecrow tries to throw a canister at the running crowd, so you quickly web it, sticking it to the wall.

“You cannot save them,” he taunts, gesturing to the few students that still got hit with the fear gas. “Their fears will consume them, just as yours will consume you.” Ah, right. You are standing right in the middle of where his first cans exploded. Time to find out if your suit blocks the fumes.

A batarang appears, knocking Scarecrow's canisters out of his hands. Robin, the man himself, lands next to you. You can’t help but quip, “I thought such a prestigious school wouldn’t be so easy to break into?”

“It isn’t,” is Robin’s dry reply.

“Well, looks like someone missed the memo,” you retort, eyes locked on Scarecrow. You survey your surroundings, there’s still some lingering kids, plus the one’s victimized by the fear gas. “Handle him, I’ll get them out of here,” you command. Robin nods in understanding.

You jump away, quickly webbing up the fear gassed victims so they don’t hurt anyone or themselves. They scream and trash, making you wince and mutter rushed apologies. You kick up a table, depositing them behind it. Robin is holding his own against Scarecrow efficiently.

A couple of rushed whispers escape you as you encourage the leftover students to follow you out. You guide them, ducking under tables until you reach the doors. You breathe, the only one left is–

Victoria. Where’s her date? Did he leave her to save himself? Asshole, you swear. You call for her. “Hey!”

She turns to you, looking worse for wear. Her makeup is running down her face, carefully tied hair now loose in disarray. Poor girl. She runs over to you, tripping into your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper as you usher her to the exit.

“Spinner!” Robin yells. You turn around in time to deflect a throwaway can of fear gas. Victoria whimpers in your arms. “It’s alright, Vicky,” you say breathlessly. The last you see of her is her wide eyes as you shut the door.

Scarecrow growls in frustration. “You!” he points at you. “Why are you not affected!?”

A clawed finger clinks against your mask as you tap it. “My suit’s really cool like that.” Thank God , you weren’t sure if it would repel the gas. With a flick of your wrist, you send a web at Scarecrow to restrain him. He dodges, just barely.

“Or maybe I’m just already living my worst nightmare: a villain with a bad fashion sense,” you quip, weaving around. “Now let’s wrap this up before I start critiquing your escape plan.” You launch a web up at the ceiling, letting it carry you up. More webs grasp at Scarecrow, tugging him to you. Robin watches as you tie him up, Scarecrow flailing uselessly in the air.

You ignore his speeches about how ‘fear is eternal’ and ‘you’re delusional if you think you can stop it’ in favor of dropping him to the floor, roughly. You land next to him, leaning down and dragging him with you to the hole in the wall. “I’ll leave you here as my thanks to the GCPD.”

Robin comes to a stop next to you. “Call me corny, but you and I make a pretty good team, no?” you say, crossing your arms as you look at him.

“Do not flatter yourself, I did most of the fighting.”

You snort. “Yeah, but I got him in the end, didn’t I?” Robin shakes his head. “I’m just surprised you’re not shriveled up in fear like the rest of them.”

Robin crosses his arms. “I am capable of holding my breath.” Your mind wanders to inappropriate trains of thought, making you grin. The sound of sirens get closer, signaling the approach of the GCPD, and probably the other Bats as well.

“Well, I get terrible police anxiety, you know how it is,” you say, taking steps out of the hole. Robin follows you out. “Bye,” you say, before swinging away. You round the building, letting the suit retract back into your bracelets. You enter through a back door, avoiding cameras. You quickly straighten out your ruffled appearance, making your way to the gym. Some students are lingering around on their phones, either showing each other what they recorded or calling somebody to pick them up.

You pass Victoria on the way. She’s holding her arms, hugging herself. She raises her head and stares at you as you approach. You pause in front of her, not really sure what to say. She probably doesn’t want your comfort, so you’ll keep it brief. “Glad you’re okay,” you say as you awkwardly pat her shoulder. You quickly scurry inside the gym, feeling what you’re sure is a judging stare.

Just as you thought, some of the Bats are here, administering the antidote to the victims. You make a show of looking for Damian, just in case he’s watching. There’s an incessant buzzing in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you swipe open Jon’s messages.

please get this boy some brown contacts

why did i just turn on the news and ga was attacked

hello?????

are you okay??????

please be okay

why arent you answering are you dead

please dont be dead

Your heart churns at his worry. You just want to gnaw on him, he’s so cute. You send a selfie of you throwing up a peace sign with the police and Batman in the back.

yeah lmao im ok

shit was crazy but damian shoved me a closet all romantically and then ran off

looking for him rn hope he aint dead

he told me he wasnt even gna come what a liar

oh my gosh youre alive no way 

are you sure youre okay im pretty sure you just experienced something really traumatic

YES jon like i said i was in a closet the whole time

well im glad damian shoved you in there

also yeah he is a stinkin liar sometimes

You chuckle and let the conversation die. You make sure to answer Sam’s concerned messages with the same selfie and reassurance.

“I see you are alive and well,” comes Damian’s voice behind you. He’s got his hands in his pocket casually, looking completely put together and not like he just fought crime. He’s good.

You huff and turn around to face him. “Yeah well, it’s hard to die when you’re chilling in a closet that somebody shoved you into,” you snark accusingly.

He scoffs, ”I practically saved your life.”

“And then ran off. Where did you go, anyway?”

Damian turns his head, surveying the law enforcement as they work. “I helped in aiding the other students escape.” Yeah, whatever.

“Oh, really? We got ourselves a hero type over here.” You cross your arms and bump him gently. His head lolls with the movement. “Maybe you really are Robin.” He ‘tsk’s, but says nothing. You let the silence consume the both of you, eyes wandering the scene. Concerned parents cry in outrage at their fear gassed children. You wonder if they’ll sue. Then, you notice something.

“Why is Batman looking at me like I just cursed his entire bloodline?” you ask Damian, making him drop his arms and look to where your eyes are. You’re exaggerating, it’s hard to tell exactly how Batman’s looking at you with the cowl and the distance, but he isn’t exactly being subtle.

“That’s just how he usually looks,” says Damian, trying to remain casual. You are pretty damn sure he’s trying to signal to B that he needs to chill. Karen confirms that he actually is in your ear. Your mouth twitches as you wrangle a grin under control.

“Well, tonight was lame. I’m gonna go home before the big bad bat decides I need to be ‘vengeanced’ or something.” You turn around and begin walking away. “See you around, Dami.”

Damian grabs your arm before you can get far. “Let me walk you.”

You raise a brow. “Trying to figure out my base of operations?”

“It is late and you shouldn’t be going home alone. Especially after tonight,” he gestures to the scene.

You shrug. There’s really nothing to hide at your apartment, and he definitely already knows where you live regardless. “My hero. Okay, if you insist. But you’re paying for the ticket.”

“What ticket?” he scoffs. “My butler will be driving.” Oh. Right.

You scoff. “Of course you have a butler.”

He places a hand on your back to guide you out. You risk a subtle glance behind you and see that Batman is still looking, but more so at Damian now. You make a stop to the closet Damian shoves you into to pick up your haul, ignoring his side-eye. It seems he has let it go, for now.

Cold air greets you as you step outside with Damian. Arguably one of the coolest characters in the DC verse stands beside a sleek looking car, Alfred Pennyworth. You’re a big fan.

“Master Damian, Mx [Name].” He greets primly, stepping aside to open the door for you both. Damian nudges you in, and you make sure to thank Alfred and give him your address as you slip inside. Damian settles in beside you, his arm pressing into yours. You look out of the window as the drive commences. There’s not much to say.

“Tonight could’ve gone worse,” Damian says, breaking the silence. “I suppose we should be grateful for that.”

“Grateful, sure,” you reply, not taking your eyes off the city lights flashing by. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t happened at all.”

He nods, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “True. But then, I wouldn’t have had the chance to save you.”

You roll your eyes. “Is that what you’re going to hang over my head forever? ‘Remember that time I saved you in the school closet?’”

Damian chuckles, a rare sound that makes you glance at him. “Perhaps. But I think you’d do the same.”

“You know me so well,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You lean back in the comfortable leather seat of the car, feeling the tension of the night slowly ebbing away. The drive through Gotham's streets is surprisingly smooth, with only the occasional sound of sirens in the distance to remind you of the chaos that unfolded earlier.

As you pass under the shadow of skyscrapers, you steal a glance at Damian. His profile is illuminated by the faint glow of city lights filtering through the car window. Despite the adrenaline of the evening, he seems composed, almost serene.

He catches your glance and turns to meet your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of lingering intensity from the night's events and a quiet contemplation that seems to soften his usually sharp features. The silence between you feels comfortable now, no longer laden with the tension of earlier encounters or the urgency of the situation you just escaped. You offer a smile, and this time he doesn’t have any reaction. Just a calm expression.

“We have arrived,” Alfred announces softly as the car comes to a stop, almost hesitant to break the silence. You step out of the car, giving Alfred a nod of gratitude before heading up to your apartment. You turn back one last time, meeting Damian’s gaze before unlocking your door and heading inside. As you settle in, you can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something else you can't quite place.

You drop your bag next to your bed and collapse in it. Nari comes trotting over, hopping onto your mattress and curling up next to you. Tonight was anything but lame. And as reluctant as you are to admit it, Damian’s presence made it a bit better.

You close your eyes, letting sleep take your mind.

notes: i know in a lot of peter parker in gotham fics they have that "dick grayson is richard parker in a different reality" storyline so i think im gonna try to reference that just a tad, since reader is peter parker just not yk.

in other news, im gonna TRY to update every weekend or so. keyword try.

[lover-lyn]

i wanna request sum lemme be ur first request OKAY HERE ME

ACE X READER GOING TO PROM PLSSS

This took so long and FOR WHAT, not very proud of this tbh, first time writing a one-shot so, hope you like it :)

Fem reader implied (reader wears a dress) but no pronouns used, Teen!Ace, modern AU, reader is called "pretty" and "sweetheart"

Stupid in love

Let's get married in Vegas

We don't need guest list

I don't wanna think too much

Let's get matching tattoos

I don't wanna think it through

Baby, I'm so stupid in love

MAX HUH YUNJIN↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

During his short life, Ace had been in many situations that he never thought he'd find himself in

But this won the number one spot for most surprising and nerve wracking

He had been given detention for months on end, he had been grounded by Dadan for an entire year, he had even been arrested before, yet he didn't doubt that he'd be in even more chaotic situations in the future.

Here he was, Portgas D Ace, certified trouble maker and self-proclaimed womaniser stood in front of your porch wearing a suit and holding a flower bouquet

Currently, he was glaringly the door as if it had wronged him. In truth, he was nervous, and incredibly so.

a couple days ago, Ace had been standing on this very porsh, holding a single Hibiscus flower, waiting for you to open the door so he could know the answer to the question hed spent weeks trying to work up the courage to ask, needless to say that he'd been overjoyed upon hearing that you were only waiting for him to ask.

yet for some reason, he feels even more nervous now.

a couple minutes pass until Sce finally felt calm enought to knock, the door opened almost instantly

"there you are, i was starting to think you stood me up"

and there you were, in a ruby red dress, a Hibiscuss flower pinned to the neckline of the garment

"Ace?"

"sorry, hi sweetheart" Ace`s blushing only increased as he heard your quiet giggle "hi" you you replied

"you look pretty, really pretty"

seems as though it was your turn to blush "thank, you don`t look half bad yourself" that was truly a understatment, if anything, Ace looked like a prince straight out of a royal ball with a blood-red three piece suit, his hair was slicked back with just a couple strands falling out of place and onto his face

"can i give you your flowers or would you like to keep checking me out?"

"oh i'm the one checking you out? didn't you forget how to talk as soon as as i opened the door?"

Ace's smirk only widened "come on now, you wear my signature color and expect me not to stare? that's so unfair"

"your color? whoever said red was your colour?"

"me, now take your flowers and let's go"

"hey good lookin'"

"Sabo i swear to God if you don't shut the fuck up i'm going to castrate you"

as expected, the night had turned out a disaster, how could it not? all of the 'ASL' brothers were attending, granted the youngest had snuck in thru the vents after hearing that their would be a buffet

so while everyone was still inside dancing the night away, both you and Ace sat soaked head to toe in the water foutain, Sabo was relentlessly teasing you while Koala filmed the whole thing for blackmail material

it seemed as tho everyone had forgotten about Luffy, who was curently hiden under the buffet table exitedly stuffing his face full of food he'd nicked from plates the second the security turned his head the other way

yet, looking out onto the scene, you and Ace shared the same thought

there was nowhere else you'd rather be and no one else you'd rather experience this moment with

[invece-sto-sdraiato]

My experience of watching House MD with my mom (a government certified dermatologist):

It was surprisingly such a bonding experience for us, now that I think about it. It was kind of our thing. I would ask her many questions about the technical stuff (biology lover here) and she would explain all of it to me. There were so many days when we would just discuss whatever happened in an episode, for hours. She didn’t mind any of the malpractice stuff (compared to what happens in Indian hospitals sometimes, house barely scratches the surface)

And I used to get so….idk exasperated at house’s cynicism towards others, while she didn’t give a thought about it. This is a woman who is currently in an administrative position (Associate Professor, to be exact) and she’s told me about the absolute shit some of her colleagues/subordinates have given her. I mean, she’s seen it all. She’s probably met people like house.

Coming back to the technics, she used to talk admiringly about how (mostly) accurate the med stuff was, and how there’s a lot of research gone into the writing of the show. And house’s discussion with the others using a whiteboard. I think that was what really made her like this show. I’ll elaborate.

This happened today:

Mom: “Last week, I was asking my students about the different dermatological diagnoses they’ve encountered in recent cases. And then, I asked them if any of them had ever watched House.” (She occasionally teaches post-graduate med students)

Me: “Really? Uh…. you asked them if they’ve watched House…of all the possible medical dramas?”

Mom: *eye roll* “Anyways, some of them said yes. And then I explained, how their method of determining the differential diagnosis is quite useful. Listing it all on a whiteboard, you know, it helps to clearly see where you stand and how to further proceed from there. And House gives the others freedom to express their opinions and doubts.”

Dad, suddenly: “He’ll list all possible diagnoses, and there’s times even when he has to strike out all of them. But none of them show any frustration and they keep brainstorming until they find the correct one. That can be so useful in daily life, you know?”

Me: “huh, I suppose you’re right.”

Dad: “They’re using something known as the ‘first principle thinking’ in psychology. It means that you refrain from making assumptions, and you go right to the basics, to find a solution.”

So. Idk what to say now. Maybe just that I have a lot of good memories pertaining to House. But obviously, being the teenager that I am, I was very interested in the hilson side of things (even if those two are seriously fucked up) but I also loved watching House for the technical stuff and used to get pretty excited if I even knew a bit about whatever illness was in an episode (a nerd’s a nerd 😅) sorry for the long post.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Wuggthea

Another bird! Kind of speaks for itself, let's get to it.

Anyone unsure about what these posts are should check https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

If you want to see the entry these artists are working from, it's here:

And if you want to participate in the next week's bestiaryposting, that entry is here:

Now, art:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has drawn a very naturalistic bird -- I would completely believe this was a real bird if you told me it was. The linked post explains that it has elements of both mockingbird & frogmouth, and why. I enjoy the neck & beak situation here: this is a certified Loud Bird.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) made the delightful decision to include our bestiary author in this image, noting the entry's apparent antipathy to noisy birds and gossipy men. That's the author in the window, suffering from the noise outside. (I also like the Stylized Tree.) For more about the inspiration and art references, see the linked post.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has also included someone being annoyed by the noisy birds (and alt text, thank you). I really enjoy the contrast between the Disney-princess aesthetic and the birds actually being quite annoying -- also the photobombing Wuggthea in the foreground. For more on inspiration and thought process, please see the linked post.

@pomrania (link to post here) took inspiration from the long-standing linguistics in-joke of the "wug". (Random personal fact: I have a shirt that I got free from the Linguistics department during my masters' degree that reads "Wugs Need Hugs".) I love everything about this -- the usage of IPA here is particularly clever I think. For anyone who doesn't know about the wug, it is explained in the linked post.

@wendievergreen (link to post here) has given us a tree full of colorful, dramatic, presumably quite noisy birds. I really like the coloring choice here, especially knowing the reason behind it as mentioned in the linked post. Also yeah these guys look like they could make a racket. (And thank you for including alt text.)

Aberdeen Bestiary time!

... hm. Well fuck you too, unknown biblioclast.

Ashmole Bestiary time!

That is a heck of a fancy border, and a reasonably nice-looking songbird. This bird is the jay, which is indeed a noisy one, so good job there.

Fellow USAmericans may be thinking of this guy:

But of course these birds are native to North America and would be unknown to our bestiary author. They are actually writing about this guy:

I have never met a Eurasian jay, but given that its genus name is Garrulus, and the Wikipedia page I got this image from describes jays as "usually colorful and noisy," I have no doubt that it is as the bestiary author says.

[beanghostprincess]

I don't know why, but I think Usopp, of all people, might smell gorgeous despite the fact of him being a pirate. Maybe it's those long, luscious, beautiful curly hair of his, or maybe it's just an impression given by the fact that he's not canonically that dirty, but my brain only understands simple things, so -- > long hair + not that smelly = smells pretty effing good. And...I don't even think it would be one of those artificial, chemical smells? Like, I don't think he would wear perfume or such [that's more a Sanji thing, which is not bad, but not exactly Usopp].

It's just. His hair products. Natural scented products, that is. Sweet notes of coconut and vanilla, with a little tangy switch given by muted notes of lemon.

Also, a white soap user. I stand by this. 'Cause it makes sense: I think that being a generally very cheap product, he grew up using white soap to clean himself. Simply put, I think the comforting smell of the soap would remind him of his childhood, his village, his mother, and his friends. Also, Kaya is a white soap user, confirmed [she told me].

His clothes are also clean and smell very homey and cozy. And did I mention that probably his skin looks great too? Maybe not, but that's an argument for another day.

This, being a Usopp headcanon, obviously contains lots of Sanuso headcanons.

Because yes, Sanji is enamored of his trèsor's smell. He wouldn't get enough of it in a single day, in a single span of 24 hours. Like, a day it's too little, and I think Sanji would go a bit insane if he didn't get a whiff of his boyfriend's gorgeous smell every once in a while. Because. His boyfriend is his safe place, so his boyfriend's smell would bring him comfort [this considered, WCI would've been absolute hell to him]. Also, I think Sanji is pretty sensitive to scents in general, so Usopp's warm and sweet fragrance makes him feel at home [Zoro being a hater would not have time for this at all].

And don't get me started with Usopp's resident bestest of friends and certified cuddle buddy [Luffy]: you just know that this menace with abandonment issues [affectionate] would claim his Usopp cuddles every now and then. I also think that after the whole Water 7 ordeal, their cuddle session would've been extensive, because Luffy just "missed Usopp and his smell so much". Even Chopper is smitten with his smell! Small, smell-sensitive Chopper!

Nami would love it, too! Hell, even Zoro would appreciate it [more for the fact that it's Usopp we're talking about, and Zoro would not hate a single little thing about him. Except his taste in man, but that's for another day].

So yeah, to sum up this random headcanon, Usopp is gorgeous has a gorgeous smell, and is the crew safe place.

I agree wholeheartedly with this. So much. Usopp looks like somebody who smells so good. Like flowers and wood. No doubt. He takes so much care of his hair and hygiene that it's kind of surprising that he's a pirate, honestly. Although what did you expect from somebody as anxious as him? I'm sure he's worried about this 24/7. And besides, being Sanji's boyfriend he's legally obligated to smell good because I think Sanji would be very sensitive so scents (as you said. Because it's true. I often mention this on my fics, actually).

Kaya and Usopp took care of each other in a ver intimate way!! Showered together. Shared hair products. Did each other's hair. When Usopp joins the crew, he still takes care of his hair and his image but it's mostly out of routine and love for Kaya more than anything. Besies, he loves taking care of his hair because it reminds him of his parents and the way they loved his hair so much too!! Always said it was the best part of him.

And yay!!!!!!!! Sanuso!!!!!!

Sanji absolutely loves Usopp's scent. He smells like flowers and Nami's tangerines and wood and paint and crayons. Idk how to explain it, but he smells like art and home and Sanji can still somehow smell the Merry on him. Poetic little gays. They miss their daughter. Every time Sanji is feeling anxious or just misses his boyfriend, he will go to Usopp and hug him and place his head on the crook of Usopp's neck. And he just kisses his shoulders and skin there and smells his hair for a while. When they go to sleep together and it's Sanji's turn to be the little spoon (happens most of the time, though) he will either turn around to be able to smell Usopp properly or he will just bring Usopp's hands closer to his lips while they sleep. They're the clingiest thing on earth.

Headcanon that after WCI, Sanji's sense of smell is a bit fucked up. The whole place was full of sweets everywhere and everything smelled like chocolate and strong tooth-rooting food. Sanji has a hard time smelling things again that don't remind him of that. He stops baking sweets for a while, too. So he starts reaching out for Usopp more to drown in his scent whenever the memories of WCI are too strong. He spent a long time without being able to be with his precious boyfriend and the only scent that calmed him down. Thinking about Usopp giving Sanji his bandana when they part ways in Dressrosa and keeping it throughout WCI and smelling it whenever he wants to remember how home feels like.

Luffy and Nami also enjoy Usopp's scent but that's because they're the ones who cuddle with him the most when he's free from the hands of his boyfriend. They're,,, So sweet. And Zoro likes being around him also because of that but, you know, it's Zoro and Usopp, they like being together either way.

To sum up the whole thing, Usopp is the most gorgeous man on earth and he smells like a dream.

[plaindangan]

Headmistress Chisa AU: bringing it back!

Moving right along to the next room, Chisa had to make some very… different accommodations to keep Celestia happy and satisfied. In her room Celestia sat at a poker table playing a couple other students (your choice!). In order to keep the gambler satisfied, Chisa had supplied a couple of dummies to play her in cards, the twist, was that every time she won, her ass grew a little bigger.

Of course, given Celestias greed, more ass, is always better!

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

Celestia Ludenberg. Of all the students, she was one that Chisa knew was going to be high maintenance from the get-go. Rich, snobby, and a knack for dealing in high stakes. When it came to Celeste, she went out of her way to adjust the game room to be more casino like to make that girl stay there...

Well, that and a certain other stipulation that was in effect when playing with her.

"Pleasure to play with you again, Ms. Yukizome." Celeste said as she sat at the farthest end of the poker table away from the door. On the surface, she looked unchanged. A fact that made her stick out out to the other two students with her.

To the left was Hifumi - or rather the new Hifumi. Knowing Celeste liked having servants, and Hifumi had a crush on her, Chisa saw fit to kill two birds with one stone. Well, in one of the bird's case, she's opting for some mind alteration and heavy amount of Seiko-certified drugs~

With Hifumi, she had saw fit to not only slim the fanfic creator down to be more of Celeste's ideal, but also subject him to a bit of a brainwashing video - to bring out the suave and sophisticated side of him. He was already loyal to Celeste, so this was just ensuring both's relationship together wouldn't be chaotic. He gave a nod to Chisa and was dressed in a butler's uniform.

As for the right, having been invited/drafted to entertain Celeste - was Chihiro. The programmer, who typically stayed in his room, shyly waved to Chisa. Given Chihiro's desire to be more up front with his gender, he was wearing a green shirt and brown shorts...shorts that was hugging his ridiculously feminine thighs and own apple bottom. Because Chisa couldn't resisting making him more of an irresistible femboy than he already was~

Compared to those two, Celeste seemed just about normal...but that's because she was sitting and the table covering her lower half...

"Shall we begin the game?" Chisa nodded and four began playing poker. Though, given Celeste's talent (and some dummy cards in Chisa's hands), the result was obviously a win in Celeste's favor.

Which is when it happened...

Crack!

An audible breaking noise could be heard from Celeste's seat and the gambler had to stand up before the chair collapsed on itself. It was there that the other three can get a full view of it. Of Celeste wearing only a black thong without a skirt to cover herself...because a skirt can't help her anymore. When she turned around to inspect the damage, the trio got to see her wobbly, pale, globes - an ass large enough that it seemed doubtful if she can even leave the room - slosh and jiggle about with each twitch she made. God~

That part of the other condition of having Celeste here. One of the modifications Chisa gave to the gamble was that for whenever she won, whenever she got that rush of winning, it would expand her ass. Said expansion was addicting and would get Celeste to chase that high for nigh forever~

"Oh my! Looks like your chair broke, again. Do you think we'll still have our game, Celeste?" said Chisa and inwardly was beaming was Celeste turned back with an intense, longing gaze. One that begged to win again and feel that pleasure~

"But of course! And don't think just because that happened I'll lose!!" Chisa chuckled.

"Trust me: I know~"

[phantasmaw]

I think to elaborate on the objectively normal to objectively horrible sapphic spectrum that you can find on phantasmaw dot gov it's like

Rosalie sits as close to the end of objectively normal as I can provide. She's a #girl in the world. She loves writing with glittery pens and she likes stomping around in the woods and all she wants to do is make friendly contact with aliens or any other "unnatural" life form. She also just casually happens to be friends with primordial ooze that possesses and puppeteers a spliced-up corpse that has, over time, become more and more horrific via the ooze's influence (the ooze being Amby). But she's a healthy and spunky sort of weird I wouldn't categorically call unwell. Canonically she does go through a few horrors but her morals are as stand up as any other person. She wants to show the type of understanding and acceptance only a certified weird girl can.

And on the objectively horrible end there's Imelda and Annabel. Now listen I could list Etoile here too very easily but surprisingly she is not as objectively horrible as Imelda or Annabel but that's only by a margin so she really shouldn't celebrate it (and she wouldn't, she'd act like my words are a bullet that just shot through her heart). Imelda's all about the fester and the obsession and the infatuation and letting love consume you until it's not love anymore but a parasite leeching off every aspect of your personhood. Also she eats people pretty regularly. Annabel was a very sweet and naive but dedicated and well-learned girl but she went through the negative character development wiggler after starting college and letting her unchecked victim complex run wild. She does not care what she has to do she WILL be the best. Also she eats people pretty regularly too. This is the part where I say they should kiss but they honestly shouldn't. They don't both need to lose their lips at the same time, I think?

Etoile, for her part, does not eat people pretty regularly and in fact has never done so. I have good reason to doubt she ever would. She's just awful in the sense that she has to be so incredibly insufferable or else she wouldn't be much of anything at all on account of the internal crystallization, and also she believes that's the only good way to get to know people, by seeing their anger and dismissal and perturbed avoidance first. I hesitate to say with my full chest that her life path has led her to assisting in perpetuating the same cyclical pains she suffered through because canonically speaking, and in the right plots/threads, she's very actively dismantling it. But I can say with my full chest that she's still incredibly manipulative and a womanizer and will take the worst route to get to where she's going because she's here for A Time not a long time.

Then there are the ones more solidly in the middle. Chaewon in truth is only in the middle because he respects the history of life too much to have dalliances with destructive tendencies and such. He is however quite knowingly selfish and possessive and the kind of person who will at least partially turn his back on good common sense for a little while if it means getting to continue to be selfish. By his clan's standards he's one of the worst children to ever be born because of taking a more individualistic approach to solve a group problem. Tough love that's sometimes not entirely just love kind of vibe. Chaewon also would eat a person but hasn't yet. I don't know if I should emphasize yet. But I mean, probably would if it was a shared meal with a loved one because why would he pass up that opportunity. Edelweiss is a little less in the middle and more on Rosalie's end. Milf I think? Or in that zone because she doesn't have children. Hypothetical milf. Long history of cowardice and then compromise with no real plan and now she lets people run away to her and her inn so they can sort their shit before she scoots them back out the door to face their problems.

Lenore is Lenore I don't know how to unpack that one. I think the most succinct way is 'my dick has led me to places I wouldn't go with a gun' if you get involved with them because they're like Silent Hill: The Person(thing).

[beckkeep]

Zinc Plays Let’s Go Pikachu!

Episode 1: I AM NOT IN CONTROL OF MY LIFE PLEASE HELP

Alright, so I know what some of you are thinking.

"He’s doing this again? Why bother?”

That’s a fair question.

Anyway.

My name is Riley Zinc and I’m a college dropout and genuine disappointment.

I hope you enjoy as I flounder through the land of Pokemon and yearn for real, intimate relationships in my actual life.

Oh. Uh. I overshared again, didn’t I? Didn’t even wait for you to ask.

Ah, thank you. He annoys me already and I can’t explain why.

I understand now. Carry on.

I hope it doesn’t land me in crippling debt in the end!

So am I playing a game, or is this a game within a game? Or was that introduction a game and now I’m out of the game in the—

Nevermind.

That’s just my face.

Ooh, the outdoors. Haven’t been out here in... months. It’s so cheery, it makes it hard to wallow in my own self-pity.

I suppose I should speak with the professor first, right? Or am I wrong? Am I making the right choice?

I see I chose poorly.

Ditching Flint, I wandered to the north to find Professor Oak, practicing his Snow White lines for the yearly Pallet Town Play.

He always gets to be the main star. I’m usually a shrub.

I’m not bitter.

: o

Is it really that strange? The Viridian Forest isn’t too far away. Wait, it’s not stalking me, is it?

Just to be safe, allow me to stuff it into this tiny, magical container.

Has a human being ever been caught in a Pokeball? Did the person come back out intact, or were its bones and organs crushed into a little sphere?

You know this is a video game and not the real Flint because doesn’t give me mocking nicknames. I kind of prefer this Flint now.

What are you plotting? Why would you smile at me as if you were happy?

This Pikachu is about to regret wanting to come with me. ... Though I suppose a cute nickname wouldn’t hurt, right?

"So cute!” said Flint, “No one will suspect it if I taught this tiny bastard Covet and stole their shit!”

Um. Thanks? I threw a ball at it. Do you lack depth perception?

Am I being insensitive?

Please don’t ask us to scatter your ashes across Kanto. That’s... awkward.

Have you ever heard of Bulbapedia?

Oh. Did I... just negate your life’s work?

I’m so sorry please pretend I didn’t say that.

Are you ready to be let down, Chupin?

"Through some mysterious force”? It’s native to Kanto.

I have a mom who’s not dead?!

Wait! Please, don’t go...!

She locked the door.

Alright.

Hello?

Oh god, what happens when you mow the lawn and it’s in the ground?

May as well give it an appropriate name for this run.

For having an entire musical number about traveling to Viridian City, it’s not all that hard to get to.

The mart man then gave me a package to give to Professor Oak because I can’t say no without wilting.

Hm. I’m pretty sure I already got a sunburn just from being outside for ten minutes. It’s not great.

No.

I know you taught that thing to pickpocket! I don’t want to see it!

Uh, electrocute it, I suppose.

Chupin doesn’t have pockets to pick.

Yes, I felt that second-hand embarrassment. You don’t have to bring it up.

I think Chupin enjoyed that Eevee touching his butt.

I knew it.

Your head is so large. How do you pull your shirt over it?

Hm. What to do?

Yes, that’s a good idea.

Wait WAIT I DON’T WANT TO MUG THE CHILD. CAN I GIVE THE MONEY BACK?

No one can find out we mugged that child. Speak of this to no one.

How is this even a certified gym if it’s always closed? Isn’t a gym leader’s job to stand there and take challengers? What kind of business would someone like this be involved in that would take them away from this responsibility?

Nevermind. Let’s just go to the next gym.

Is that a weed?

No, but it is phallic. Shouldn’t take too long to defeat, at least.

Is it... going to do anything...? Um.

When in doubt, sprint away from socially awkward situations and hope you will never face that person again during your lifetime!

[shallowseeker]

All the Emma stuff I wanted to think about in one place

7x13 interesting bits

Except they're not red flags for Dean, certified baby-fever guy. They're perks.

DEAN: Nope, just the one. Emma. But that night, when I was with her, she didn't have any. And I was at her place, man. There was no playpens, no blankets, no rubber ducks.

SAM: Right. Like you would have been focused on that kind of thing.

DEAN: Hey, dude, that's the first thing you notice. Red flags.

SAM scoffs. DEAN takes two beers out of the fridge.

///

Emma and human religious mirrors:

WOMAN:

We hunt for her. We kill for her. And now we consume that kill as a symbol of unity with those who have completed their blood missions and furthered the life of the tribe.

EMMA is still holding her piece of flesh. The other girls have all eaten theirs.

WOMAN: Go ahead, Emma. You need to eat.

///

Dean is...happy? Needing new purpose?

DEAN: Of course not... Sam. What, do you think I'm brain-dead? Accidents happen. If one even did, which I-I-I don't think...

DEAN pauses and seems to be considering what happened. He gives a little smile.

///

Again, pain and inflicting pain. The child soldier's burden:

EMMA: They told me I had to endure pain so I could be strong like them. But I don't want to be like them.

DEAN: Okay. Come on in. EMMA enters the room. DEAN closes the door, replaces the security chain and puts his gun in the back of his jeans.

DEAN: Have a seat.

EMMA sits down on a bed.

DEAN: Okay. Let's assume that you're not... like them. Yet.

DEAN leans against the table.

DEAN: What do you want me to do?

EMMA: Get me away from here. You're a good man. My mother told me that.

DEAN: I seriously doubt she said that. And if you knew me, you would seriously doubt it's true.

EMMA: They told me you're a hunter. So maybe you'll understand about me. Maybe you can protect me. Just long enough so I can get away. Then I'll leave you alone. I know you don't want me.

DEAN: All right, let's not... go there, okay? This isn't a matter of...

DEAN gestures between them.

DEAN: You get this isn't a normal situation, right?

EMMA: How would I know? Three days ago, I wasn't even alive. Now here I am. My mother threw me into that place. And my father... well... You get this is my last chance to have anything normal ever, right?

///

DEAN is standing at the window. He walks across the room in front of EMMA.

DEAN: You look exhausted.

EMMA: And starving. It's been a tough sweet 16. So you believe me?

DEAN crosses him arms and nods.

EMMA: You'll help me?

DEAN: If you really want help.

///

DEAN is still standing in front of EMMA with his arms crossed.

DEAN: Well, now, what happens when they find out you're missing?

EMMA: They may have already found out. And they'll hunt me down.

DEAN nods and walks across the room.

EMMA: Look, I know this is gonna be hard, but if I'm gonna get out, I have to do it now.

DEAN opens the refrigerator.

DEAN: We got cheese and a leftover burrito.

EMMA stands up.

EMMA: Doesn't make a difference.

A knife drops into EMMA’s hand from her sleeve. DEAN closes the refrigerator and points his gun at EMMA.

DEAN: You were asking if I believed you.

///

EMMA: I was told you'd be a challenge.

DEAN: I figured you'd chat me up... try and catch me off guard. Almost worked. I was expecting your mother.

EMMA: It's not her place. I have to kill you.

DEAN: Is that what they told you?

EMMA: It's what I am.

DEAN: Well, then, I should just kill you right now.

EMMA: Sure. But you could have done that 30 seconds ago

EMMA: It's weirdly hard, isn't it? It is for me.

DEAN: Knock it off.

EMMA: How could it not be? You're my father.

DEAN: Hey! We're not gonna do that.

EMMA: But it's true. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. So now someone has to kill someone.

SAM opens the door a fraction and sees DEAN with his gun pointed at EMMA.

EMMA: You know what? So far, my childhood's been kind of disappointing.

DEAN: You haven't killed anybody yet, Emma. Walk away. Right now. I won't go after you.

EMMA: I can't. I don't have a choice.

SAM bursts into the room, gun drawn. EMMA spins around to face him. The skin around her eyes has turned red. EMMA turns back to DEAN, her eyes normal.

EMMA: Please don't let him hurt me.

EMMA turns back to SAM, who shoots her in the chest. She gasps and falls to the ground. SAM lowers his gun. EMMA is dead. DEAN and SAM look at each other. DEAN nods slightly and looks down.

///

Sam is mad at Dean for what happened. Sam has become very *mission-oriented* since the apocalypse, mental wall damage, and Bobby. Dean, on the other hand, suicidal:

SAM is driving with a fixed expression.

DEAN: Hey, you know what? I don't like it, either. I wanted to torch ’em just as much as you. Yeah, but, hey... next time they surface, we'll be ready. If we live that long.

SAM doesn’t reply.

DEAN: All right, fine. Just sit there and be pissed.

SAM: What did you say to me... when I was the one who choked? What did you say about Amy? "You kill the monster!"

DEAN: I was going to!

SAM: Oh, the hell you were! You think I'm an idiot?

DEAN: What, you think I am?

SAM: Dean, you were gonna let her walk!

DEAN: No, I wasn't. That's ridiculous!

SAM: Look, man, she was not yours. Not really.

DEAN: Actually, she, uh, she was, really. She just also happened to be a crazy man-killing monster. But, uh, hey.

SAM: You know what? Bobby was right. Your head's not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now...

DEAN: Now what? Oh, what, you're dealing with it so perfect? Yeah, news flash, pal – you're just as screwed up as I am! You're just... bigger.

SAM: What?!

DEAN: I don't know.

SAM: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... It almost got you killed. Now, I don't care how you deal. I really, really don't. But just don't – don't get killed.

DEAN: I'll do what I can.

SAM: Well, what's that supposed to mean?

DEAN: It means I'll do what I can. All right? You can shut up about it.

///

Now from the script draft from the beginning of season 12, where Dean chats with Mary about being trapped in the cycle of hunting in order to exist (the narrative burden ofc):

Dean still thinks about Emma; rationalizes that it was a relief/lucky/good thing that she died.

*whispers* Oh 12x01 blue draft

///

Interesting bit about Jack's origins, that the Winchesters sought to keep him and Kelly alive at the same time Cas was trying to kill them:

Dean and Sam resolving to save a child, CAS resolving to kill it.

12x19

///

And lastly, when Jack lost his soul and killed Mary:

Emma came up AGAIN with Jack. Old wounds ripped open fresh. Dean considered Jack his. Even with Mary and God on his back, he still could not do it.

14x20

[magnoliabutters]

GOOD NIGHT • STORIES OF GOING STEDDIE •

pairing: eddie munson x steve harrington x (female, 18+) reader

summary: the party poopers leave early and you’re left with your fuck buddy, eddie, and steve “the hair” harrington. things are bound to get more interesting after a game of truth, dare, or drink.

warnings: 18+ content, minors dni, adult language; threesome obvi, mention of drugs and alcohol, tipsy but sober enough to consent, light peer pressure, fingering, hand jobs, watching kink, slight dom switching between reader, eddie, and steve, etc. 

word count: ~5.1k

support your writer: if you enjoy, please give a reblog so others can enjoy too!  🤘🏼

• stories of going steddie •

note: welcome to a universe where vecna has been defeated (or so they think) and eddie most certainly did not die at the end of volume two. so thankful for and inspired by the writings of @wwinterwitch​. if you like this post, do yourself a favor and visit their blog. as always, please feel free to reach out with any feedback so I can improve on my writing. i may update my writing depending on feedback. i'm looking forward to hearing what you think!

support your writer: if you enjoy, please give a reblog so others can enjoy too! i'll keep writing as long as there’s someone to read it 🤘🏼 reblog and/or comment to be added to the taglist for this series. 

---- x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x ----

“Alright guys, I’m going to bug out,” Robin said, slamming her beer bottle onto the table. “Damn,” you say in shock. She begins laughing, definitely a little tipsy. “I did not mean to put that down so hard.” You giggle alongside her. 

“I’ll drive you home, common Rob,” Steve says. The ultimate babysitter in any and every setting. “No, no man. We were actually just about to leave,” Jonathan says standing up from the couch, his arm around Nancy’s waist. “We can take you home, Robin,” Nancy said with a smile. 

You look at her, with an obvious but also not too obvious expression of disgust. This girl, although a certifiable bad ass, ran laps around Steve just a few weeks ago. You could tell he fell even harder for Nancy after all the shit happened in the upside down. There’s no doubt in your mind that she fell for him too. Yet, here we are. An absent minded Jonathan with his arm around an absent minded Nancy. You turn to give Eddie a look. He already knows exactly what you are thinking and agrees with you as he returns the disgusted look. 

Robin took a look at Steve. You could see her analyzing in her tipsy mind the pros and cons of Steve taking her home versus Jonathan. “You stay, dingus. I’ll hitch a ride with Nancy.” Robin must have decided Steve would be better off still drinking with you all than going home early. Steve puts his hands up, “Okay. I’ll see you guys tomorrow then.” 

“You coming, Argyle?” Jonathan asks. Argyle was in the corner, taking a huge rip from Eddie’s bong. Holding in as much air as he could, Argyle asks Eddie, “Is there anymore weed? I’m gonna have to refill this bowl.” Eddie laughs, “No, handsome. You smoked me out. I won’t be able to get more ‘till tomorrow.” Argyle groans and blew out the longest line of smoke you have ever seen. Man, he was impressive. “Alright!” He says, slowly getting out of his chair. “I’ll head back with Jonathan. I’ve got a girl waiting for my call in Uuuu-tah!” He says with a smile and a dance. You giggle. You don’t know him well, but he’s definitely smitten for whoever’s waiting for him in Utah. 

As they say their goodbyes and give their hugs, you find yourself with Steve and Eddie, no more weed, and a bottle of vodka. Eddie smiles, his arms reaching for both of your shoulders. “Well, let’s get to it, shall we?” You chuckle, stepping away from the group hug. Eddie’s arm still on Steve’s shoulder. Steve confused as to why Eddie continues to touch him. “And what are we getting into Eddie?” you say with a raised eyebrow. 

Eddie laughs, grabbing the vodka bottle. Steve shakes his shoulders as Eddie releases his embrace. He spins off the cap, it flying to god knows where. “It’s a little old game I like to call: truth, dare, or drink.” Steve rolls his eyes, “And how is this different from truth or dare?” Eddie smiles, walking toward his kitchen cabinets. He grabs three shot glasses and places them onto the counter. As he pours, he says, “Well, you can either do the dare, tell the truth, or if you don’t want to do either, you gotta take a shot or two.” You follow him to the kitchen, leaning over the counter. “Or two?” you say. He smiles, “Yeah, you might need to take two shots if the truth or the dare are way too good to pass up.” 

Steve, still struggling from the sight of Jonathan and Nancy reuniting, says, “Yeah, okay. I’m trying to get fucked up here and this sounds like the way to do it.” He grabs one of the glasses and shoots the vodka back. He takes it like a champ, no change to his face. You’re impressed. “Fuck it,” you say, following Steve’s lead. Eddie watches you both with a huge grin on his face. “It’s going to be a good night,” he whispers, taking his shot quick, and starting the game. 

The trio walks back towards Eddie’s living room.“Who’s going first?” Steve says, landing on the couch. “What about you?” Eddie says with a smirk. Steve threw his hands up, “I don’t care. Let’s do it.” Eddie looks towards you, putting a hand on your thigh. “You can ask first,” he says, eyes on Steve, and patting your thigh excitedly.

“Okay, truth or dare Steve?” you say, smiling. Steve smirks, taking a sip of his beer before answering. “Let’s do truth,” he says. You put a finger to your chin, pretending to think with an abundance of effort. “Hmm, okay okay. Do you …” you lead your question. You keep your eyes on Eddie, seeing if he might give you any indication of whether or not to ask the question you’ve both been dying to know the answer to. He was careful as to not give you any facial cues. “Do you still love Nancy?” you say. You could see Eddie slowly smiling in your sideline. He said under his breath, “Oh, we’re getting right to it.”

Steve let out a loud groan, bouncing one of his finger’s knuckle against his chin. He continues to shake his head and scoffing to himself. He leans his head back, squeezing his eyes closed. He suddenly leans forward and takes a longer swig of his beer. In noticing the shifts in his body language, you slowly turn towards Eddie with eyes wide. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have asked, you think to yourself. Eddie begins to focus and analyze his beer bottle. He intends to put on a show so Steve has some privacy to work through whatever feelings he’s going through.

“I never stopped,” Steve says. His body finally still and his eyes on his hands, wrapped around a bottle. You instinctually put your hand on his. You meet his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Steve,” you say. Eddie slowly joins by placing his hand on yours. “We’re here for you man,” he says. Steve laughs brushing your hands away from his beer. He takes a sip. “It’s fine, it’s fine. We can just keep going,” Steve says, raising his drink. “Eddie, what was really going on with you and Chrissy, huh?” Eddie’s eyes grow wide, taken aback by the question. His demeanor completely shut down. “Yeah, she was at your place that night, right? Did y’all have like a secret affair or something?” Steve leans back, giving Eddie a cheer with his beer. As you watch Eddie begin to reel himself into the thoughts of that night, you help by sharing, “I think you need to ask him ‘truth or dare’ first.” Steve chuckles to himself, leaning more towards the side of tipsy. You try not to make eye contact with either of them. This game is leaning more towards trouble. 

“Let’s go with dare,” Eddie says softly. He takes a sip of his own beer. You’re almost disappointed. You were always curious about him and her. Why was she there that night? The night where everything went to shit for Eddie. Where he saw her die. Where his life changed. Steve nods, “Yeah, that might’ve been too tough. Okay! Let’s go with a classic ... give y/n a kiss.” Eddie slowly smiles, still shocked by Steve’s first question. He turns towards you. You’re not even phased. You’ve kissed this man more times than you could count, not that Steve or anyone knew that. Eddie leans in, his hand placed gently on your face. You smile, leaning into his hand. He places his soft, wet lips against you. He tastes like beer - not your favorite flavor of his, but its nice and sweet. 

“Wow, it looks like you guys have done that before,” Steve says sarcastically . He takes another sip of his beer. “Eddie, you’re up.” The awkwardness of this “game” is astounding. You hope that a few more sips of beer and you’ll be too tipsy to care. This seems to be the general thought for each player. “Truth or dare, sweetheart?” Eddie whispers to you. You laugh, “Well seeing as you guys are going hard with the ‘truth’ questions, I’m going to stick to dare for now.”

“Okay, y/n, I dare you to kiss Steve,” Eddie says with a crooked smile. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He had that one right up his sleeve ready to go. He seems to have a fascination with watching you kiss someone else. What a refreshing perspective. You turn towards Steve, outwardly not bothered at all. Although, you are freaking out on the inside. Steve is the one guy who seems unattainable. You’d never get an opportunity like this again. You try to keep your cool, “Steve, is that okay with you?”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, come on,” he says, waving you over. You know he was expecting something quick, like a nervous peck. Nope! You had other plans. You stand up and walk towards him on the couch. You slowly straddle your legs around him. Steve suddenly quiet and with a shocked expression on his face. You pull your hair to one side. You lean down, so close to his lips. You can feel his breath on yours. You catch him leaning forward and you quickly pull away to avoid his lips. “Bad boy, Harrington,” you say pushing his hair behind his ear. “The dare was for me to kiss you.”

With that being said, you trace your hands from his waist, up his sides, to his face. You lean closer. Steve incredibly still. You close your eyes and finally land your lips onto his. Your tongue slowly presses against his lips. As he opens his mouth, your tongue meets his in a rage of passion. Once they hit, Steve’s hands were fully entangled within your hair. He has a strong grip onto the back of your head. He leans off the couch and pulls you closer with his other hand. You begin to moan with each kiss. You slowly rock your hips forward. And quickly you pull your lips away. With your arms around his neck, you lean back with a gasp of air. You take a look towards Eddie’s direction. His legs were crossed. His hand holding his chin. His eyebrows furrowed and tense.

You knew that face. It was not a bad one. It was a “let me concentrate really hard so I don’t just cum into my pants” face. You giggle. You look at Steve, “Thanks Harrington.” Steve sits there still dumbfounded, mouth gaping in shock. You stand up and turn to Eddie. “Did you like that, Eddie?” Eddie tenses his jaw and looks towards you. “Yes, that looked very nice,” he hissed.

You walk towards the lazy boy and cross your legs. “Eddie, I choose you. Truth or dare?” A smile raises on his lips. He rolls his eyes ever so slightly. “Well, if it’s anything like I just saw, I’m definitely wanting some dares my way”, he says confidently. You grin, knowing exactly what you intend to make him do. “Hmm…” you pretend to be lost in thought. “I think I dare you to kiss Steve.” A huge smile widens upon your face. A devilish look appears as you stare at both boys. Steve scrambles to find words, as Eddie stays silent.

“Oh, hey! I don’t know about that,” Steve says with his hands raised. Eddie turns to him, wanting to hear him out, but a part of him also disappointed. “What’s wrong with that?” You say with an eyebrow raised. He laughs, as if he knew you were trying to trap him. “There’s obviously nothing wrong with it but I am not gay,” Steve says taking a tough swig of his drink. He places down his bottle harshly, his body leans towards Eddie. “Eddie, you gotta drink man. This shit’s crazy,” he whispers. Eddie chuckles, “What’s crazy about it Steve? It’s just a kiss.”

Steve groans, now realizing its two against one in this debate. “You’re telling me, you have never wanted to try kissing a man before? That thought has never once popped into your head?” you ask, genuinely. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. With Robin coming out, it kind of made me start thinking about things. I wanted to make sure that I was authentically me,” Steve replies. Eddie makes a curious sound. “And are you?” Steve rolls his eyes. He attempts to change the subject. “Eddie, all these questions are making me think that maybe you want to kiss me,” he says with a chuckle. 

Eddie smiles, leaning towards Steve. You note that Steve was more welcoming to Eddie’s touch this time around. Eddie lays his head onto Steve’s shoulder, bringing his doe and fluttering eyes directly toward Steve. “I might. Is that okay with you, big boy?” he says with a smirk. Steve looking forward, taking a deep breath. His tongue pushing against his cheek. You watch with your eyes wide. You take a sip of your beer. It looks like he’s actually thinking about it! You wouldn’t dare take your eyes off of them. 

Steve quickly drops a sigh and says, “Fuck it.” His body fully turns towards Eddie, his hand on his cheek. Eddie’s eyes show shock. He must have thought he wasn’t going to do it. You observe Eddie’s expression slowly shifting towards pleasure and closing his eyes. Steve leans Eddie back down and lands his lips onto his. Eddie resting on his elbows. You slowly pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arm around your legs. The pressure of holding your knees tightly together is keeping you grounded as you observe the two of them. You whisper to yourself, “Holy shit this is going to be a good night.” You sink into your seat. 

Steve gives Eddie one last gentle peck. Eddie’s eyes remain closed as Steve slowly comes back up. Your eyes glued to both of them. You continue to look back and forth between them as Steve places more distance. Eddie’s eyes slowly open as he begins to lift himself from his elbows. He is taking his time to recover from Steve’s kisses. Your eyes meet Steve’s. He laughs, “You both look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you okay?” You shift in your seat, your feet back on the ground, trying to seem more comfortable in your body. “Yeah, totally! That was totally something expected and not life altering,” you say forcibly laughing to yourself. Steve gives you a look of genuine, yet amused, confusion. He turns to Eddie. “Eddie, are you okay?” Eddie is pulled from his thoughts. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m cool dude,” he says softly. Steve could tell something changed, but did not want to draw too much attention to it. “Okay, well who’s-who’s turn is it now?” Steve says. 

“I think Eddie gets to choose,” you say nodding towards him. Eddie clears his throat, gathering himself. With a quick shift in his demeanor, Eddie’s eyes were hard focused on Steve’s. “Steve, truth or dare?” Steve scoffs, “Let’s go with truth this time around.” Eddie teases, “Okay, pussy.” You put your hands to your mouth, unsure of what kind of question will be asked next. Eddie adjusts his sitting to tuck a leg underneath him on the couch. He is finally able to take Steve head on. “Did you like it?” he says. Your grip on your chin tightens. You suck in air through your nostrils. Steve places his hand on Eddie’s thigh, “I liked how much you enjoyed it.” You try to be as quiet as possible, as if you don't want to scare these timid animals. Not a single muscle moves in your body. 

Eddie smirks, his eyes full of intent. You notice that that’s how he usually looks at you before you guys head to his bedroom. He softly says, “You gonna do it again, Harrington?” Steve chuckles, sucking his teeth. “Only if you ask me nicely,” he says, squeezing Eddie’s thigh. Eddie laughs, knowing that Steve was going to make him work for it. He put his hand on Steve’s, pulling it off his leg, and placing it onto his inner thigh. Eddie raises his chin as he releases a soft moan at Steve’s touch. Steve’s eyebrows came together, his eyes darting from Eddie’s to their hands. Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, tensing his body, pushing more into it. You watch, knowing without a doubt that you are 99.97% sure that this is the best thing that has ever happened to you. You get to watch Harrington, the “hair,” kiss Eddie, the “freak.” You are happy for both of them, that they have a safe place to do this, but god damn is this awakening something new and deep within you. Eddie slowly turns towards you. “What do you think, y/n? Should Harrington kiss me?” 

You clear your throat, shocked that their eyes were on you. You had floated to the background. You were a fly on the wall. You weren’t a part of whatever amazingness this was. You were just the audience. You very carefully plan the next words out of your mouth. You overanalyze each word as though you were defusing a bomb and any wrong movement would mean everyone and everything was dead. You felt more pressure within this moment, then when you helped Dustin save Eddie in the upside down. You try to convey a sarcastic, effortless tone, knowing full well that everything in your body wanted this suggestion to take place. “You guys should just fuck and get it over with already!” Eddie immediately smiles, turning towards Steve, and biting his lip. His eyebrows raising, he says, “What do you think?” 

You could see that Steve was genuinely contemplating it. A tightness in your chest comes over you. You begin to get excited. There is an actual possibility that this might happen for you all. Steve couldn’t lie that kissing Eddie made him feel things in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t expect. The holding of his inner thigh, so close to a familiar bulge in his hands. He could feel it harden with brushes of his fingertips. Steve is curious to what all this could mean. He was interested in exploring, but wasn’t sure if he was ready to bend Eddie over - as much as he wanted to and refused to let himself think about. Steve turns back to you, trying to pull the attraction away from Eddie. 

“And what would you do?” Steve says. You look towards him, again not expecting to be any part of this. You look back at Eddie, begging him for help. You were way out of your level of expertise. You always imagined a ménage à trois was something you’d get into in college, not senior year of high school. You barely lost your virginity last year and here you are. Eddie grabs Steve’s chin forcefully, making him look at him. Eddie smiles, “She is going to sit on your face as I suck your dick.” You lose your breath. You begin mentally preparing yourself of what that would look like. How would you not immediately cum seeing Eddie taking all of Steve? Steve shifts his weight on the couch, something growing within his pants. Eddie looks down, noticing a new crease in his jeans. “Oh, it looks like you like that idea,” he says, slowly putting pressure on the bulge. Steve let out a sharp breath, his chin raising. While still palming Steve’s groin, Eddie addresses you completely unfazed. “Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He gives Steve one more tight squeeze, stands up, and walks towards the kitchen. He swings his arm, grabbing the vodka bottle on the counter, and lightly dances into his room. 

You sit there, staring at Steve in disbelief. Once both of your eyes meet, your shock subsides. “You okay?” you say, standing up from your chair. Steve laughs to himself, a slow smile appearing on his face. He looks up to you, “This is gonna be a good night.” He stands from the couch and walks towards Eddie’s bathroom. You’re left alone in the living room. You take a second to breathe. It’s okay if you cum too early, at least you get to focus on watching, you think to yourself. You breathe in and out rapidly, as to pump yourself up for what you imagine to be the most amazing, weirdest night of your life. You walk to Eddie’s bedroom. 

Eddie is laid back on the bed, his belt unbuckled and exposing his happy trail. Steve is on the bed next to him, his shirt already off. The hair on his chest looking incredible in this lighting. He’s so beautiful that it's easy to skip over the still healing wounds on his torso. Eddie smiles and pats the bed, “We’ve been waiting.” You laugh, “I was one second behind Steve. Calm down.” You attempt to land your knee onto the mattress, but Steve puts his hand out to you. Your hands rise in confusion. “Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re going to have to take off at least two articles of clothing before you get on the bed.” You scoff, pointing at Eddie. “Eddie didn’t have to do that!” Eddie smirks, “Well that’s because I got here first, darling.” Steve put his hand to his chest. “And I got here second and there went my shirt,” he adds. “So that means two for you, sweetheart,” Eddies whispers. 

You give off an audible sigh. You’re annoyed, but this is also an opportunity to make them both so horny they can’t get their hands off of you - or hopefully each other. You look down at your clothes, determining which items you should take off. You feel a rush of confidence when you finally decide. You look at both of them, slowly taking off your shirt. You pull your shirt over your head, your hair messily falling back to your face. Thank whoever’s in charge that you wore your light pink lace bra today, the see through one without much padding. Your nipples visible behind the lace. Steve’s mouth opens. He’s never seen you like this before and damn you look good. Eddie is licking his lips, desperately wanting to know what comes off next. 

You smile and reach under your skirt, careful not to show too much. You pull down your striped panties. They fall to your ankles. You step out of them and cross your legs. You watch as Steve lays his hand on Eddie’s, gripping tightly. The tips of Eddie’s fingers sliding underneath his boxers. “Can I come to bed now, boys?” you say. Steve furiously nods his head. Eddie, without a thought, immediately says, “Yes please.” You smile as you lay your bare ass on Eddie’s blankets. You look towards the both of them as you form a triangle on the bed. “What should we do first, boys?” you say confidently. 

Eddie takes a breath, trying to brush off the rush he just got from you. He looks towards you and leans in for a kiss. You happily oblige. You feel Eddie’s tongue rush at you, you open wide to take it all in. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie’s hand slowly crawling towards Steve’s belt. Steve adjusts himself so Eddie has a better angle. He leans down towards your neck, giving you soft nibbles. You feel Steve’s hand trace down to your inner thigh. Your breathing quickens against Eddie’s lips. Eddie minimizes the actions of his tongue as he exposes Steve’s boxers and sees a huge cock lined within them. He groans, pulling his face from you. “Oh fuck,” he says looking at Steve. You take a gander, “Holy fuck. Steve, you’re hung.” Steve laughs, pulling away from your neck. “Did you really expect something smaller?” Eddie cautiously leans in to palm it. 

Steve finally reaches the part where your inner thigh and groin meet. You lift your head up in an attempt to receive more air. Your body desperately begging you to scream at him as he takes his time. Finally, you feel him touching your folds. Your body relaxes and you let out a moan. Eddie’s eyes on you and Steve. Steve smiles and lets out a moan in tandem with your’s. “God damn, y/n. You’re so fucking wet and we barely started.” Steve reaches out for Eddie’s other hand. “You gotta feel this,” he says bringing his hand under your skirt. You feel two fingers at your entrance. You bite your lips. You know there’s no way in hell you’re going to last too much longer. “You are super wet, baby. Did Steve and I turn you on out there?” Eddie says. You run your fingers through your hair. “I think I would give anything to see you boys kiss again,” you say breathlessly. Steve begins to rub your clit, grabbing your face with his other hand. “Keep your eyes open then, baby. You’re going to want to see this.” 

While maintaining a steady rhythm on your clit, Steve moves his hands toward Eddie’s throat. Eddie thrown aback, never having been touched like this before. Steve slams his lips into Eddie’s. Eddie’s mouth opens and you can see Steve’s tongue forcefully making its way in. Your thighs begin to clench. Steve applying rougher pressure to your clit. You watch as Eddie regains his composure, taking a good bit of your slick, and dives into Steve’s boxers. He begins to rub his thumb on the head of Steve’s cock. Eddie wraps the remaining fingers around Steve’s shaft. Steve starts to moan heavily against Eddie’s lips. You moan so loudly, you don’t care who fucking hears. You have never felt this good. 

Steve quickly switches his hands, now teasing his fingers at your entrance. Your eyes remain fixed on Eddie and Steve. He dives his fingers within you, making you gasp. Eddie beginning to pump Steve faster. Steve’s breathing quickening. You begin to watch as Steve brings his hand close to your mouth. You spit in his hand, praying that that was what he wanted. His hand then travels to Eddie’s boxers. Another thing that caught Eddie off guard. He couldn’t sustain making out with Steve so he rested his forehead against his, breathing heavily. Steve begins to stroke Eddie’s cock to a similar beat as his fingers thrust into you. Eddie is trying to maintain his rhythm on Steve’s cock, but failing. Eddie starts moaning loudly. You begin to bounce on Steve’s fingers. You pull your eyes away from them slowly, focusing solely on Eddie’s melodic moans. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you hear. You shoot your eyes open, not wanting to miss anything. You see Eddie furiously pounding on Steve’s cock. You notice Steve’s eyes closing, his lips parting, his head leaning back. You can feel the thrust of his fingers weakening beneath you. Steve’s moans increasing in sound and frequency. You quickly move behind him, leaving his fingers. You let him rest his head back onto your shoulder. You kiss his neck and cheek lightly. His breathing so heavy. His moans so loud. Sweat forming on his forehead. His body tenses onto you. You grab the back of his hair tightly, and whisper in his ear, “Cum for us, big boy.” Steve gives out this strong, animalistic moan. Cum shooting onto the blankets and onto Eddie’s hard dick. Steve holding Eddie’s cock so tight as he climaxes. He starts to breathe harshly as he comes down from his high. 

As he slows his breathing, Steve’s eyes open to Eddie smiling, watching him intensely. Steve uses some of his cum to further lubricate Eddie’s dick. Eddie releases his grip and leans back. He watches as Steve’s hand bounces up and down off his cock. You give Steve one last peck and move yourself closer to Eddie. You begin to cup his balls as Steve feverishly jacks Eddie off. Eddie’s body fully rests onto the mattress. His hands now covering his eyes, rings cool to the touch. Eddie can’t stop himself from moaning. He tries to remain quiet, but there’s no way between Steve jacking him off and you massaging his sack. Eddie mumbles moans under his breath. His hands rushing through his curly hair, trying to keep it off his face. Steve’s breathing quickening again. “Oh, you like that huh, Eds? You wish I was balls deep into your ass right now, dontcha?” Steve taunts. Eddie bit his lip so hard you thought he might bleed. 

Eddie’s moans now quick and struggled. Your grip on his balls tighten as you squeeze his upper thighs. You are so fixated on the scene in front of you, that you lost feeling in your clit. You could see that Eddie was trying to last as long as he could. Not wanting to stop this extreme pleasure. Steve recognizes it too, watching Eddie’s eyebrows continue to raise and furrow. “You want my mouth on your cock, Eddie? Is that it? Are you playing hard to get?” Steve says in a whisper, slowing his pull on Eddie’s dick. Eddie’s eyes open and he nods. “Please,” he says quietly. Steve lowers his face, closer and closer to the head of Eddie’s cock. He stops, Eddie groaning in pain and anticipation. “Please, what?” Steve says. “Please, daddy,” Eddie replies. Steve smiles and lowers his mouth onto Eddie’s cock. Eddie immediately came within his mouth, cum rolling down the sides of his dick. Steve swallows proudly and wipes a drop of cum off the side of his mouth. 

You watch Steve, impressed. You continue to cup Eddie’s balls, helping him come back down. Eddie’s breathing steadies and you move your hands towards his waist. You lick any remaining cum off of Eddie’s shaft and watch them both with a smile. Steve stands up from the bed. Eddie quickly lifting off from the mattress. “Woah, woah woah. You’re not leaving right?” he says. Steve laughs, lowering his pants, his boxers following. “Oh no,” he smiles. “We can’t forget about y/n.” Your eyes wide in shock. It was almost as though you were having an out of body experience. After watching them both, you had no intent on Steve or Eddie finishing you off. You had such extreme pleasure just from seeing them cum together. Eddie’s smile grew. “How rude of us? We left you high and dry. We better make it up to her, Harrington.” You put your hand to your lip, completely unsure of what will happen next. However, you knew that you’d be following through with whatever they choose to do to you. 

“Why don’t you lie on the bed, baby,” Steve says placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “Ass up,” Eddie says harshly, squeezing your other thigh. You slowly move to lay on your stomach. Your head resting on its side. Your skirt barely covering your wet pussy. The boys adjust so that they’re both behind you. Eddie lowers his pants and boxers. “Oh fuck, Steve. What are we going to do with this pretty pussy?” Eddie says in a playful tone. “Oh, I’ve got some ideas,” Steve says. You prepare yourself for whatever they throw your way. 

---- x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x o x ----

note: god damn. lmk if you want more with your reblogs and comments. i think i might need more honestly 😨 

part two • the unexpected •

[pro-xy]

Welcome to this week's meltdown post 180 degree longitude, buckle up my emotions are all over the place.

First thing first, I can't move on from In stopping Wang. I can't and won't let go of that moment, i'm keeping it in my heart forever, pretty much like the whole series at this point. I'm holding onto this scene for strength for what's ahead.

After 7 episodes i still don't get how In can be so chill about two people 'invading' his space, as an introvert i know i would freak out 100% like, no m'am, you won't throw a party at my house with a bunch of people i don't know. Nope. Mi casa no es su casa ffs.

As a uni dropout I kind of appreciate In telling Wang to follow his passion and choose philosophy as his major, it's refreshing to see.

Can't have an episode without Wang challenging In at least once. We (and I mean me) love to see it.

Mol is a certified party pooper. Do i need to elaborate on this? I don't think so.

I won't touch on her narrating the post award ceremony events, it pisses me off too much.

Let's give a 10 at In's expertise in deflecting potential uncomfortable situations, at least this once.

Okay Mol, we know you know and now they know it too (subtlety left the chat). On a serious note here we go again with her belittling Wang's feelings. Is this something new? No. Does it rub me the wrong way anyway? Heck yes.

If we took half a step toward moving from the past last episode then we took 10 steps back with this one.

I still stand by what I said last week about how every character is lonely in their own different way and I think I really hit the nail in the head that time.

Someone should remind Mol that even though Wang is her son, he's still his own person and he's not her property and as such he has a right to make his own choices which don't have anything to do with how much he loves her or not.

If I could give Wang a hug and tell him he's not a disappointment I would, lord knows i would. The pleading in his eyes, shit, that hurt. If anything, he's the one who should be disappointed in Mol cause for all her big talks of loving her son, well, she's not doing a very good job. As she likes to remind him, she may have given him privileges because of her fame and the money that come with it, but love? Does she actually love Wang for who he is, all the good and the 'bad' or does she only love her ideal version she has of him? I think they should have a conversation about the love she thinks she gave him and the love he needed her to give him.

'I may be young, I still have a lifetime ahead of me but how long do i have to wait? Do i have to wait until those people die so i can love who i love?' Don't touch me cause i might crumble, my emotional sanity is hanging by a thread at this point. He's so strong for staying true to his feelings and his identity, I love him so much.

When will In stop running away? Man, I'm so confused. I thought he was finally ready to be free and begin to move forward but now I'm not so sure. Old habits die hard, they say. It's frustrating, that's what it is.

The look in Wang's eyes when he looks at In is the same In had when he spoke about Siam and all I know is pain.

I am of the opinion that a conversation starting with 'do you have a minute' never bodes well and i'm not wrong. I hate everything about that conversation but I also feel it's very telling about Mol's character and the dynamics between her and In. I shed angry tears when she had the guts to ask him to give everything up for her, again, when there's nothing left he could give her and at the end of the day Wang is still her son, no one's gonna take that away from her also he never gave any sign he wanted to cut her off his life or did i miss something? Is she really so selfish to not realize she's setting up Wang for a lifetime of unhappiness? Doesn't she recognize what's happening again? Mol is entitled to her own feelings okay yes, but I can't with her. First she doubts Wang's feelings who's probably the one most in tune with his own feelings out of the three of them, then she says she wants to make him normal again? What does that even mean? Normal by her standards? I want to scream.

I don't think i know how to explain how bad i feel about the last five minutes of this episode, by now english is not englishing anymore and i'm just too wound up. The first time he's asking, no, he's begging be acknowledged he's let down by both of them because they're so obsessed with the ghost of his father they cannot see Wang who's standing in front of them baring it all for them, being vulnerable. Them walking away because they're not strong enough to face reality is probably the worst form of betrayal. In the end there's only loneliness, again.

[solaeter]

can i request any soft casual date headcanons for choso or noritoshi or geto? -akatsukimommy

Soft, Casual Date | Headcanons 

Note: tysm for being my first request! .+:｡(ﾉ･ω･)ﾉﾞ I hope I did these justice, headcanons and I don’t get along because I over think and..it’s a process lmao. I also chose to do all three because I can’t pick between them |ω･)و ̑̑༉

Word Count: 1838

Characters: Choso, Noritoshi Kamo and Suguru Geto

Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to check for. 

Request Status: OPEN

↠ There’d be lots of communication, mostly coming from you as the two of you venture about. From shops, food and to culture, you educate Choso while he just is so lost in you. He’s like a puppy, completely in love and hanging onto every word. From how he looks at you, you’d question if he was actually listening. 

↠ A soft casual date with Choso would probably be showing him around Tokyo. This boy will be glued to your side, arms linked together or he’d hold your hand. Regardless, he’s not letting you out of his sight. 

“Did I lose you?” You worried you were babbling on too much and Choso shakes his head. He can’t help himself and admire you, how you knew so much and the level of patience you had for him made his chest tighten. 

“No, continue please.” So polite he is, taking your hand once again as you smile before going into another explanation that leads into a particularly embarrassing story of a past experience. But Choso doesn’t laugh, he is humored, don’t get him wrong, but he pulls you to his side and offers a small bit of comfort. So precious (´•ω•̥`)

↠ After walking around for what feels like forever, you’d drag Choso to a cute little cafe for a chance to sit down and enjoy a snack or drink. 

↠ Choso might feel a little out of his element but having you there is all he needs. So don’t mind him he wears a little frown or looks around curiously. Normal customs are beyond the poor boy though he is quick to catch onto things.

↠ For example, Choso may not like anything in his coffee. So when you look at him with a crinkled nose and a small smile, he’d tilt his head.

“What?”

“Black coffee? I could never.” You stick your tongue in a playfully disgusted manner and if Choso wasn’t in love then, he certainly fell more. You were so cute, innocent and he can’t seem to handle the emotions that swarm him.

↠ Choso.exe has stopped working. 

↠ After the pit stop, the little date would end with Choso seeing you home. He had things to attend to so staying wasn’t a choice unfortunately, but he makes sure to give you one hell of a hug. There’s so much love and he will cherish every moment with you, his actions prove this statement.

↠ Especially when he doesn’t let go immediately, keeping you there and mumbling a goodnight in your ear. It’d have your heart hammering in your chest and if he kisses you, or you to him, you’d both probably be flustered messes.

↠ But that’s alright cause neither one of you will forget the feeling and you’d be left at the door to your home, eyes soft and body warm with your phone in hand to plan the next time you get to see Choso.

↠ A soft casual date with Noritoshi would probably be an evening stroll through the park or sitting at home and enjoying one another's company. It’s not about what goes on, but rather the experience, atmosphere and feelings during that moment. Noritoshi is sentimental and it plays into a lot of things that he does. Especially when it comes to you.

↠ If you went for a walk with Noritoshi, just like with Choso, he’s keep you close. Except it might be a hand on the small of your back or loosely holding your hand. The contact is reassuring to him, it lets him know you’re okay even if there’s no danger in sight. 

↠ He also holds these little dates close to his heart considering he’s busy most of the time with sorcerer work and clan duties. So one the off days where he can see you, happiness and a sense of much needed calmness will radiate around him. And it’s obvious to you.

“You seem happy.” You point out while the two of you stand on a bridge overlooking a quiet stream illuminated by the setting sun. One might say the view is right out of a photo and you’d agree. Noritoshi laughs beside you, sounding so free from whatever shackles held him daily.

“Any time with you brings me much joy. It’s a breath of fresh air. Perhaps even an escape from reality.” He’d say so casually despite the sentence being cheesy as hell. You bite your lip and smile, ignoring the light blush dusting your cheeks. Smooth fucker, how dare he ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭

Instead of responding because you were lost for words like a fool, you’d hug Noritoshi’s side and enjoy the peaceful view. The contact was all the response he needed, he thrived off of it. 

↠ Noritoshi isn’t opposed to taking you to his home, but he enjoys spending time at yours for a change of scenery. His obligations and duties don’t follow him once inside your humble little abode.

↠ A date can be anything, or so you’ve reassured many times because let’s be honest, Noritoshi doesn’t have the slightest idea on dating. So when you offered to sit at home and ‘chill’, he was completely thrown left field the first time. Now it’s one of his favorite things.

↠ Noritoshi will melt if you let him lay his head on your lap so you can play with his hair. There’s something so, so relaxing about it that he just falls apart over a simple act of affection. Plus you love seeing his content face while you absentmindedly watch tv and chat quietly about the day's events. The domestic atmosphere has your head spinning and mind jumping to thoughts of marriage. You’d bat the thoughts away but you can’t and when you frown, Noritoshi is quick to notice. 

“You okay?” His soothing voice brings you out of your short lived fantasy and you look down at him, noticing the concern despite his eyes never opening. You nod quickly, flashing a reassuring smile.

“Of course! I was just thinking, nothing bad.” You wouldn’t dare admit to thinking about the future that isn’t even certain. Instead of pressing further, Noritoshi brings a hand up to rest along your cheek. His touch was warm and welcoming and you can’t help but nuzzle into the palm of his hand. 

↠ Lovesick fools you both are. 

↠ Noritoshi is attached to you and he knew he was in deep after the first date. Now every moment with you is engraved in his memory, his heart. No matter how simple or quiet or rambunctious, he doesn’t forget. He also makes mental notes to take you out somewhere nice the next time he gets free time. Until then, he relishes in the comfort you bring and the freedom he feels while spending time at your home.

↠ All in all, relaxing at home playing with Noritoshi’s hair after taking a nice walk sure beats going to the movies or staying out into the late hours of the night. You cherish the softness of his face as he lays on you and the way he lets himself be loose around you in private. Nothing can beat the little things. 

↠ A soft casual date with Geto would be getting him out of trouble probably going out to some unhealthy restaurant and eating your weight in a buffet. Why? Geto can eat and will definitely drag you along. Will also make comments like:

“You need to gain some weight [Name], don’t fear the food.” He’s tryna be nice, honestly especially if you are shy or being conservative. But you may or may not take offense to that. So just punch him to shut him up (๑و•̀ω•́)و.

↠ Will talk about anyone and anything. Geto definitely gossip to you about other people that pass by, making up random blurbs that are far fetched or downright dumb. He likes to keep the mood light and fun especially if he just came back from a mission and needed a change of pace. 

↠ Geto is polite in every sense of the way despite his little comments here and there. He holds doors open for you, keeps your hand locked in his and will often bring it up to kiss your knuckles just to wooo you. Only because he knows it works. Every time. 

↠ After dinner, Geto would take you to the top of some building to look at the sky. Why? It’s romantic in his opinion and secondly it’s nice to get away from the crowds and admire the sea of stars while in the presence of the one who so graciously tolerates him.

“You know,” He’d break the silence and look over at you, catching your attention, “I appreciate you for keeping me grounded.” Geto spoke from his heart, referring to the mixed feelings and lingering doubt that covered his heart. The only light that remained was the space you occupied. You blink and sit up on your elbow.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to say it.” He shrugs, flashing you a half smile before pulling you on him for a hug. The two of you would remain like this until lord knows when. Geto wanted to stay like this for as long as possible because soon he wouldn’t have you anymore. 

↠ Which brings us to the new Geto, the monkey hater. If you managed to stay with him through all the shit he did, good on you for being a certified simp! And if you were a non-sorcerer, you are the only ‘monkey’ he tolerates because he loves you so. This bastard will kill anyone for you, even if you’re out on a cute, casual date.

↠ Which would include him taking you out somewhere very nice, like way out of your normal budget. The man loves to impress, always has and always will. 

“Isn’t this a bit..much?” You question, looking at the array of silverware neatly arranged before you. Geto leans forward, his elbow on the table and chin now resting in the palm of his hand. He wore a sly smile, one that was far too relaxed for a cold hearted killer. 

“Not at all.” He reaches with his other hand and takes yours, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. You melt of course, he always managed to take you down, so effortlessly. “You deserve the best.”

“Even if I’m a monkey?” You raise an eyebrow. No one said you agreed with his ideals, but love kept you by his side. Geto laughs, clearly humored. 

“What can I say? I’m a hypocrite out of love.”

(╯°□°）╯︵ (\ . 0 .)\  

↠ As to where you go afterwards, that depends on you cause Geto will take you anywhere. Even though he’s different now, his opinion toward you and how he holds the relationship never changed. If anything, he loves you even more for looking past the monster he became and showing him the love he was scared to lose. 

[tennessoui]

18 obikin!! Amnesia fics are super fun 🍆

18. One of them wakes up with amnesia (Option A because two people sent in this prompt number and I liked both ideas I saw for it enough to not want to pick) this involves an Obi-Wan that got deaged as well as lost his memories so he's Phantom Menace Obi-Wan. no i will not be explaining. hand wavey drabble fic writing.

--

The man has not stopped staring, but something in his intense gaze makes Obi-Wan feel safe. Almost. Well. On edge, yes, but. Protected. He has the strange feeling that he’d rather be under this man’s stare than anywhere else in the entire galaxy.

But he knows he’s never seen this man before in his life, the same way that he knows he’s twenty-five and that Qui-Gon Jinn is his Master, that he’s a Jedi knight-in-training, that he hates teas with mint leaves in them, that he’ll never say no to a drink with Quinlan, that--well.

He supposes none of that stuff could be true anymore. Vokra Che, who’s a grown and certified healer master now, had told him what had happened. An older version of himself had touched something he wasn’t supposed to. The closest translation they could find to the runes on the object was that it would transform the user back to their most balanced state. Obi-Wan’s had, apparently, been at the age of twenty-five. He hadn’t recognized the name Anakin Skywalker. He had never been to Naboo.

He throws the rest of his drink back and waves to the bartender to pour him another. He’d gone straight here from the Halls of Healing. He’d had a shadow the entire way, but the man has yet to try to talk to him at all. It’s infuriating.

His Padawan braid swings into his field of vision for a second. He tosses it over his shoulder. He’d been told. Qui-Gon had died. Obi-Wan wants to not think about it at all.

There’s a brush of a Force presence that’s both familiar and completely foreign next to him. The man has finally moved to his side. Obi-Wan’s jaw ticks at his continued reticence, the way he’s observing him but not talking to him. It just simply won’t do, but Obi-Wan isn’t feeling his kindest. He doesn’t want whatever this man is offering him with his silent, dour stares and his suffocating Force signature that keeps trying to tangle itself with Obi-Wan’s own. It’s rude is what it is.

He waves down the bartender and orders a drink for the man. “If you got mint, put it in,” he tells the woman who raises an eyebrow but shrugs, one pair of her arms busy with the drink. When she gives it to him he slides it to the man next to him without even looking at him.

“What--” the man asks. “I don’t--”

“You do tonight,” Obi-Wan says bracingly, throwing back half of his own drink. “We’ve both just lost our Masters, haven’t we?”

The man beside him flinches as if Obi-Wan had skewered him with his lightsaber.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan lolls his head to the side to look at the man threw half-closed eyes. “My padawan.”

“Anakin,” the man says so quietly it’s almost lost to the noise of the bar. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, yeah.”

Obi-Wan takes a drink reflexively, humming in disbelief. “You don’t look like it,” he says consideringly. At Anakin’s confused look, he elaborates. “You don’t look like you could have ever been a Padawan.”

The man pulls himself up, face darkening at the perceived slight. It’s almost too easy to rile him up, but now that he has, Obi-Wan finds he has no interest in fighting this man. Quite the opposite, really. That’s...something. He can’t tell if that emotion comes from him now or the older version of him.

Either way, Obi-Wan has no desire to stand in the way of whatever storm this Anakin is building up in his head, so he turns to face him completely and pushes both hands into his blond hair, raking down the scalp gently before collecting the strands into a poor imitation of the Padawan ponytail. “That’s better, I suppose. The hair threw me off.” He lets go slowly, making sure to tug at one of the strands at the last second.

Anakin has a very strange look on his face, but he’s definitely not angry anymore. He’s even shielding much more tightly now. Obi-Wan smirks into his glass as he takes a sip. He definitely remembers that trick.

“Do you know who cut it?” he asks, catching sight of the end of his braid again. The drinks are going to his head much more quickly than he had intended. Must be all the trauma his body has gone through in the past few days. “My braid.”

“I.” Anakin stutters, caught off guard. “You did.”

Obi-Wan feels like laughing but also a bit like crying. There’s a terrifying emotion rearing its head in his chest. It threatens to swallow him whole. “Well, I suppose I never liked to stand on ceremony.”

“You cut your braid in the fresher and then called me in and braided mine,” Anakin says distantly, as if caught up in the memory. “You wouldn’t let me hold it. I thought you were so mean. But I understood at my Knighting Ceremony. It was a part of me in my hand, a...starmap of all the places I’d been and the things I’d learned during my training. And there was only one person I wanted to give it to in the whole galaxy.”

“Did you?” He asks, taking a sip to hide how important the question is, how devastating the answer could be.

“Well. Yeah. But I guess I don’t know if you kept it,” Anakin cuts his eyes away from Obi-Wan’s and runs his fingers up the long stem of his drink.

Obi-Wan chokes on a laugh. “He definitely did.”

The other man’s face settles into a frown. “You don’t know that. You’re not him.”

“I’m enough of him. I’ve got--some feelings. In my head. Impressions.”

“Of me?”

“Of how he felt about you.”

Anakin’s eyes widen and then narrow with a sudden intensity that makes Obi-Wan want to shiver. It’s like being in the eye of a storm. His hold on the delicate glass in his hand becomes dangerously tight as he leans forward into Obi-Wan’s space, as if he can’t get close enough to him.

“What do you feel when you look at me?” he asks almost breathlessly. Obi-Wan blinks, trying to figure out if he’s being seduced or not. It’s sort of working. It’s all that focus, directly on him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if that’s how the night ended. But sleeping with his former padawan who he can’t remember right now doesn’t seem like the best decision he could make.

But Anakin had liked it when Obi-Wan tugged at his hair. He’d arched closer to him. And now, the distance between them has been eaten away until they’re almost pressed chest to shoulder.

“Safe,” he decides to say, even though the word feels too small. “Sad,” which is mostly true but also an oversimplification. It’s a sort of nostalgia mixed with sadness, mixed with acceptance and resignation. “Warm,” because even after being denied entry to Obi-Wan’s mind, Anakin’s force presence has curled around Obi-Wan’s like some sort of krayt dragon, content to wait and guard and treasure. He leans forward, just until his mouth brushes against the skin of Anakin’s ear. “Coveted.”

Anakin definitely shifts at that, and when Obi-Wan pulls back enough to see his face, his pupils are blown wide.

Swallowing a grin, Obi-Wan swallows the rest of his drink in one go. “Drink up,” he tells Anakin in his most demanding tone, reaching into his pockets to pull out his older self’s credits to settle the tab. “I want to go.”

Anakin obeys immediately, making a face at the taste.

They’re out in the street within a few minutes, Anakin smacking his lips as if still trying to rid himself of the flavor. “I just don’t know why you had to order me that,” he complains, falling into step on Obi-Wan’s right.

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the very unsanitary wall of the building, spreading his legs wide enough so that Anakin can come in between them. The man doesn’t seem to notice anything different, just steps a bit closer as a crowd of loud party-goers makes their way past them.

“I wanted to see if I liked mint,” Obi-Wan shrugs, raising his hand to rest on the skin of Anakin’s neck. He can feel the way his pulse is beating incredibly fast.

“Why would my drink help you with--”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. He commends his older self for being able to teach this idiot anything, even though he seems to have skipped over important lessons like Recognizing When You’re Being Flirted With.

Before Anakin can finish the thought, Obi-Wan twists his other hand in Anakin’s robes and pulls him forward until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “May I kiss you?” he asks because it’s only polite to.

Anakin’s eyes widen and then fall shut as he gives a little nod, finally stepping forward until their bodies are pressed completely together.

At least someone, although he doubts it was the older Obi-Wan, taught Anakin how to kiss. Obi-Wan’s toes curl in his boots as Anakin takes control of the action, moving his hands so one’s pressing against the wall behind them and one’s running up his scalp. Obi-Wan takes his time licking into Anakin’s mouth, allowing Anakin to explore him in return. One of them moans, which seems like as good a time as any to break the kiss.

“Well?” Anakin pants, diving in to place a short kiss onto Obi-Wan’s lips. “What do you think?”

The short answer is that Obi-Wan isn’t. He noses back towards Anakin’s mouth hopefully, sliding his hand down from his neck to rest on his hip.

“About mint,” Anakin elaborates when Obi-Wan doesn’t respond immediately.

“Inconclusive. Need more data,” Obi-Wan tries to kiss him but Anakin’s smiling too hard.

“Then next time you can get the awful drink, and you can get me the Alderaan Sunset,” Anakin is complaining, but he’s laughing too and that’s nice. Obi-Wan thinks that making Anakin Skywalker laugh is one of the best feelings in the galaxy, and he thinks his older self would agree, if the warmth sparking up in his very soul means anything at all.