#LET'S GOOO <3

[ghost-proofbaby]

when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!” 

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 

But it hadn’t. 

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 

“And why would you ever do that?” 

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well. 

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 

He wants you to kiss him. 

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

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[mikrokosmcs]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .

❄️  to  invite  my  muse  to  a  dance  at  the  yule  ball .

Donghae no puede evitar sentirse incomodo, a pesar de que lo peor ya había pasado. Minjoon era hermoso, esplendido e inteligente, el Ravenclaw perfecto que solía llamar la atención con su sola presencia y a pesar de su mestizaje como mago, no era un rechazado. En cambio él, uno de los slytherin más señalados y un gato arisco que a duras penas tenía un puñado de amigos y notas apenas pasables, no era muy bien visto con una celebridad como la persona a su costado. Cualquiera diría que los dos tenían su fama dentro de la escuela, pero el platinado sentía que la suya no concordaba bien con la del otro. No obstante, ahí estaban, como una cita para el baile de fin de año y sus mejores ropajes, costuras no finas, pero si elegantes, adornaban sus cuerpos y sutil maquillaje acentuaba sus facciones redondas pero afiladas en los puntos correctos. Donghae optaría por ser una mandrágora bien hundida en la tierra y pasar desapercibido, pero no era el objetivo de un baile. - —¿Quieres bailar? — -cuestiona, girando su cabeza hasta el costado donde su cita estaba sentado. Juega un poco con el anillo en forma de calavera sobre su anular, mordiendo la comisura de su labio. - —No prometo que no te pisaré. | @picdpipcr

[spiderzlover]

Did someone say Family..

[mangoshibi]

His favorite book ( part 1 ) brothers, am I right???

[linaxart]

feel like pure shit I just want them back x

[sonofcelluloid]

can’t wait for the “rest” motif to come back with a vengeance when it’s time for Armand to turn Daniel like, “it’s okay, I’ve lived a good life, I’m ready to rest now,” and Armand losing his mind like, “ABSOLUTELY NO YOU ARE FUCKING NOT

[gearbroth]

REAL SHIT?

[bruhlpng]

Pedro Pascal as Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey NYPD Blue (1993-2005)

[roaringroa]

soon

[pxrasitism]

do u guys fw florida cuban miku ^_^

[aquacomet]

3 Days remain until the Reveal-versary!

[linusbenjamin]

Scarlet Witch voiced by Elizabeth Olsen What If (2021-) | 2.05 'What If... Captain Carter Fought the Hydra Stomper?'

[moonkhao]

Mawin. Hm?

23.5 DEGREES | EP3

[bloodbroox]

harbringme back to life please

prints🔮

[junowritings]

Hii!! Would it be alright if i requested the companions of your choice (bg3) and Rolan reacting to meeting tav's older brother(or just sibling if youd like to keep it gender neutral!)? I had the image of him potentially running into them all in combat and just dashing in to help tav, everyone being so confused as to who the hell this guy is, only to find out their related. I think itd be even funnier if tav and their sibling were very different, or seeing tav with their sibling brought out a very different side than their used to. Maybe tavs very polite and awkward usually, but gets super playful and competitive (and maybe loses a few braincells) around their sibling. Tysm!! - 🍒

Thank you so much for the request cherry~! I honestly have a lot of fun imagining what it would be like if Tav had any family throughout the story so this was a neat write! I had to cut a couple characters bc this got to long but I do hope it was worth the wait~!

=======

Trouble seems to have a habit of finding this wayward band of travelers, or, more specifically Tav. Who knows what had caused it this time - tensions too high, the wrong thing pilfered from the wrong pocket, or maybe just the desire for some good old bloodshed. Swords are clashed and spells are thrown with abandon across the field of battle in a bid for coming out of this scuffle alive, commands and taunts lashed back and forth as easily as blades.

Somewhere in the midst of this chaos is their impromptu leader, doing who knows what to gods knows what. You’re grappling with your opponent, using the terrain to your advantage even as it muddies your shoes and rends holes in your armor that will need patching up later. This battle won’t last for much longer - with the entirety of your traveling party in roster you’re surprised that your opponents have even lasted this long considering the varied skill sets and questionable morals at their disposal. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re making it out unscathed. In fact, you’re mid-turn towards Shadowheart after a nasty jab to the back nearly has you tripping, the request for healing barely having left your mouth before it’s cut off with a shout…that’s not yours.

A new voice breaks through the cacophony of conflict, and there’s only a second to wonder the what’s and the why’s before someone else leaps headfirst into the fray with a shout loud enough to leave ears ringing. No one recognizes him, at least not from a glance, but he barrels into battle with all the grace of a bear as he all but slams body-first into the nearest enemy, sending them skidding through the dirt with a triumphant cry. The questions have to wait till later, burning as they are.

It’s only after the party sets about making themselves scarce from the last dregs of battle that all eyes are finally drawn back to this newcomer. Some with curiosity, intrigue; others with distrust and distaste for his sudden involvement - the question is the same on all fronts however - who is this?. Whoever he is, he seems unbothered, far more focused on pulling you to your feet. To everyone’s surprise he greets you like an old friend - a hand finding a way to your head mussing up your hair as you’re pulled into a crushing hug that has the pair of them almost tipping over back into the dirt. Laughter rings through the air as you swat at the offending hand, almost wrestling with the guy before the grip is finally relinquished and you pull yourself away.

You look…happy. Clearly you know this person, but who are they to you?

The question comes out curious, and the newcomer blinks as he turns to face your companions for the first time since his appearance.

“Who, me?” for a moment his head cocks to the side, as though the question has an obvious answer. Then he grins, an all too familiar smile stretching across his lips as he slings an arm over your shoulders, jabs a thumb in your direction and proudly declares-

“I’m their brother!”

Wyll

♡A sibling you say? The information shouldn’t be too surprising, Wyll reasons; you’re bound to have had a life somewhere in this world before the nautiloid crash, just as any of your wayward companions had. A life with family, friends and familiar faces that had been present in your day to day life before the mindflayers and tadpoles. To see a fragment of that life in person however? Wyll has to admit that he’s taken a little by surprise as he didn’t expect anyone related to you to make such a…memorable entrance. Not that you hadn’t, of course.

♡ You’ve been traveling together for long enough at this point that the two of you had begun to share tales. And yet the topic of family had never come up before, if only because Wyll wasn’t sure if you would appreciate someone prying into that subject. Gods knows his own relationship with his family was…tumultuous at best, and you haven’t actively tried to force information out of him he didn’t want to share, so he’d offered you the same courtesy.

♡ Now that he’s been introduced to your brother, Wyll's curiosity inevitably gets the better of him. He’s polite as he introduces himself to your sibling, making an approving comment about his battle prowess and good timing. In return he’s met with a bright smile that reminds him so much of you and a clap on his back as your sibling introduces himself properly in kind.

♡ Your sibling is quick to invite himself back to your camp, and while there’s grumbles from the others who seem arguably mixed about the whole arrangement, Wyll is all for the idea. It’s on the trek back to this evening’s campsite that Wyll notices how you practically brighten up around your sibling, a far cry from the reserved, quiet side of you he’s grown used to. How smiles that he’s so often seen strained or overly polite melt into something softer, livelier. Even bordering on snarky as he sees the pair of you throw about witty comments like its second nature, with playful jabs of elbows and the constant knock of shoes subtly trying to trip one another as you trail ahead.

♡ It’s a reminder of simpler times, and Wyll finds himself content at the sight of you finally letting your guard down. You’ve been on edge since the very first time he saw you at the grove, to see such a stark contrast to that moment with the way you smile and laugh now brings a hope that one day he’ll see more days of your happiness than of your grief.

♡After that meeting Wyll has no more reservations asking you more about your life and family back home - what you miss and what you’re looking forward to returning to once this is all over. Of course your brother gets involved, filling you in on everything that’s happened since you were taken by the Nautiloid and how things are back home. Home. With any luck, Wyll can help you and your brother get back there one day, minus two squirming cranial stowaways.

Shadowheart

♡ Shadowheart has a ‘oh gods there’s two of them’ moment from the second she watches you and your sibling grapple like a pair of children at the sight of one another. It doesn’t take much to fill in the gaps watching you actively cuss each other out in playful banter that would have had anyone other than close family or friends gearing up for a fight. She reasons that this person must be in the latter category, noting the similarities in your features and the similar lilt in your voices as you speak; and it’s all but confirmed once this brother of yours introduces himself.

♡ Whether you never brought them up because you felt no need or weren’t willing to share, she’s not going to exactly fault you for the decision. It’s not as though she can blame you when the majority of your relationship up until this point had been secrets, half-truths and blatant requests not to push her for more information than she’s been willing to give. 

♡ Still, it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t at least somewhat curious about your family. There comes the usual questions - who’s the oldest, what you did before this, where the two of you come from and the usual rigmarole. But Shadowheart occasionally comes in to probe at your brother's true intentions, the real questions she wants to ask. Had he come all the way out here to look for you? What had taken him so long? Surely if any other sibling had heard that their family was whisked away on a mindflayer vessel they would prepare for the worst? What are the chances that you just happened to run into your family here of all places? Thankfully by the time you all actually reach camp for the night she’s satisfied with the answers she gets enough to let your brother scarper away to catch up with you.

♡ She can’t say she didn’t expect that you were bolder than most initially thought. Sure you gave off an overly structured air tinged with an awkward demeanor, but she’s also seen that facade slip into something more coy and laid back. Shadowheart had seen it happen even more as you’d continued to bond, growing to trust the sharran and becoming more comfortable with each passing rest.

♡ But the way you interact with your brother? It’s a whole different side of you than what Shadowheart is used to seeing. She watches you brighten, grinning so hard it dimples your cheeks as you joke around with your reunited family member; and the sound of your laughter whizzes right past her tent as she watches you take off with your brother’s bed roll, tossing it to scratch and the owlbear cub with a triumphant ‘good luck getting it back!’ She notices that the mood at camp that night is significantly lighter than it’s been before that point as she comes to rest by her tent to give the camp a final once over.

♡ A memory tugs as she watches you, a distant thrum in the back of her mind as though ardent to remind her of something long since buried. It’s a nostalgic feeling - a feeling that Shadowheart can’t put a name to yet tries to chase anyway. But then comes the burn, the sharp pain of that incessant hole in her hand which flares up as though in retaliation to her pursuit. It stops her in her tracks, the familiar pain still twinging like a dwindling ember as she pushes the memory back down and rips her attention elsewhere.

Lae’zel

♡ Lae’zel can see the braincells being lost from here with every second that you spend around your sibling. Just about the only thing that stops her from turning her blade before the introductions is the fact that for whatever reason this person seemed inclined to actually aid your group, rather than joining in for the sake of adding to the carnage. Upon the revelation that this is your sibling of all things, Lae’zel’s gaze is sharp as she glances between the pair of you; an unspoken question as she focuses in on you - is he telling the truth? She’s trusting your judgment on this.

♡ It’s a foreign sight, watching you go from a bumbling, awkward reflection of yourself to someone so bold and loud. Whatever side of you this sibling of yours seems to bring out, it distracts you from everything else of importance in favor of catching up with someone who was so very sure they’d never see you again. It should frustrate her, considering just how vital this journey is even without the imminent threat of becoming illithid. But if it does you surprisingly don’t gain her ire from it; instead she allows you this moment of reprieve, moving into step within arms reach behind the pair of you the whole way back to camp.

♡ Despite the over theatrical entrance, she’s mildly impressed at your brother’s test of skill in the battle. Brutish, and with many exploitable holes should the enemy prove smart, but it was efficient enough to cut the tide of battle. She’ll tell him as such with no reservations, and you can see the cogs turning in his head as your brother tries to figure out if that was a genuine compliment or a backhanded dressdown of his tactics. His eyes dart to you for guidance but you offer no quarter, instead giving a grin watching him struggle to discern the answer for himself.

♡ You won’t have to worry about being prodded by questions from the Githyanki as you would some of the other companions at the camp. As things stand there are far more important things to focus on regarding the task ahead than exchanging pleasantries or reminiscing. With that being said, instead of retreating to her tent as everyone settles in back at camp, Lae’zel can be found sharpening her blade a little bit closer to the campfire not far from your side as your sibling regales your companions with stories and tales, both of shared memories and of things missed since you’ve been gone. 

♡ Saying this,once your sibling starts sharing embarrassing tales of your many fumbles you hear her pause to listen. It doesn’t take much to figure out that she’s paying attention specifically because of how you react, watching you practically squirm from embarrassment at the retelling as you whine that it’s nowhere near as bad as he makes them sound. Any attempts to silence your sibling get you a firm tug at your shoulder as she keeps you rooted to her side the rest of that night, giving your sibling the go ahead to continue - the tale was just beginning to become interesting.

Karlach

♡ Karlach sorely wishes that she could frame the face that you make as soon as you recognize that it’s your brother who’s come to your party’s ‘rescue’. Your whole expression lights up with an emotion she doesn’t think she’s seen in the past decade. Hope, relief - joy. You and your sibling just about crash into each other trying to hug, laughing replacing the sounds of fighting just moments ago.

♡ No sooner have you broken the hug Karlach comes forward to check out the newcomer for herself. Anyone you trust has got her full support too, so her welcome is all smiles as the tiefling joins the two of you as she introduces herself. If anyone’s going to make your brother feel welcomed into the party, Karlach is safe to say one of the very top of that list; she’s the life of the party and is willing to lend you her trust and companionship if you don’t do her wrong as you’ve learned firsthand.

♡ The moment you begin showing that side of yourself only your family is privy to, Karlach is here for it, and will actively encourage it. You’re louder, less awkward and more comfortable, and you can bet Karlach has never been more excited for that change. What she notices the most is how much lighter you seem to feel, no longer burdened by the gargantuan weight of ‘what ifs’ of what’s to come that have been plaguing you from the beginning - don’t think for a second she hasn’t noticed. 

♡ She doesn’t think she’s seen a shred of that stress or uncertainty since you’d reunited with your brother. Sure, it’s no doubt still stewing in the back of your mind along with the tadpole but seeing you let loose like she hasn’t seen before is a refreshing change of pace - like things could be really looking up from here.

♡ She wants to know how she can make you smile and act like that, and when there’s a lull in the conversation Karlach ducks in to ask your sibling exactly that. He gives her such a warm look as soon as she asks the question, as though her asking at all actually relieved him. The only answer she gets is a noncommittal shrug and reassurance that with time you’ll open up, joking that she may regret it once she sees the full brunt of how chaotic you can get. She doubts she’ll ever regret it, even as you goad him for hogging your companion’s attention and call for them to catch up.

♡Similar to Wyll, once Karlach’s seen your family for herself she’s absolutely brimming with questions about the both of you. This sparks the conversation of wanting to know more about your family, where you came from, what it’s like; it’s enough to make your head spin if you weren’t already fondly accustomed to the lively tiefling’s usual party banter. The three of you end up crowded around the fire back at camp that very evening, sharing stories over snacks you may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the supply packs when Gale wasn’t looking.

♡ It’s a little bittersweet recalling old memories of better times when things weren’t such a tragic mess, but gods if it isn’t the best feeling on a night like this. The entire time she’s trying to commit every single moment of this night to memory, from the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you crack up, or the way you scowl and none-too-subtly try and boot your brother when he tries to tell embarrassing stories he promised he wouldn’t. You’ve got a good family, one that’s worth fighting for. She just hopes that she’ll be here long enough to see you reunite with them proper when all of this is over.

Gale

♡ Gale sees the exact moment that you recognize who this impromptu guest is. Your face melts from confusion to surprise, before an overflow of emotions passes through your eyes and you meet your brother halfway just about knocking the two of you into the dirt in your joy. The wizard is more than happy to give you time to enjoy this reunion, and may or may not subtly step aside to avoid the splashback of mud kicked up watching the pair of you practically running circles around one another in the name of giving you space.

♡ Once things calm down enough for you to actually fill the party in on the identity of the newcomer, Gale’s surprised he didn’t notice before. There’s clear differences obviously, but seeing the two of you standing side by side as thick as thieves with those devilish grins to boot the resemblance is rather striking. He chalks it up to a detail easily missed in the throes of battle - picking out similarities between faces is an excellent way to get a blade between the ribs, and Gale’s got no such intentions of being on the receiving end of that literal jab.

♡ It’s rather entertaining watching you and your sibling interact, though you’re certainly a lot more playful and reckless than the wizard has ever seen you act before. Gale’s had no such siblings to relate the experience to, but even from just this small experience of watching how you act around him is enough of an indicator that you’re more than happy at the uncanny turn of events. 

♡ Just don’t expect the trek back to camp to be a quiet one, not that it ever is whenever you go out anywhere with Gale in the party. Gale is ever the man of questions. Too many of them actually as the three of you are still prattling by the time that your makeshift camp comes into view. Who could possibly blame him, when their usually awkward and reserved team leader has a never before disclosed sibling suddenly run right into them in what is essentially the middle of nowhere.

♡ Curiosity, as it often does, gets the better of the wizard who will quite happily waste the rest of the evening away grilling the pair of you for answers to the burning questions that he has regarding your background. If you’re willing to share, of course. Gale’s no stranger to verbally putting his foot in it if given half of the chance, but he’ll respect any refusals to queries you deem too personal for right now. If you are willing to share however get ready for what is essentially a combined sleepover outside Gale’s tent because he will keep all three of you up recounting tales until you quite literally fall asleep in your seats. When he complains in the morning for the back pains at having slept in such an awkward position, be sure to remind him that it’s what he signed up for.

♡ Gale for one is happy that you’ve been able to reunite with a family member in light of such dire circumstances. It’s not ideal when you have such heavy responsibilities on your shoulders, but hopefully having your sibling around will provide you some much needed comfort and support in a time where you arguably need it the most. And that support is more important now than ever, especially with the looming threat of everything that’s to come the second you step out of this temporary respite.

Astarion

♡ This is your sibling? Really? Is Astarion’s immediate thought, and the first words out of his mouth as he gives the sibling in question a cautionary once over with a raised brow. He’s not surprised, not really. Instead, he’s more puzzled. Of course far stranger things had happened over the course of this little escapade - infant eating hags, cult worshiping goblins and of course damned mindflayers, just to name a (admittedly impressive) few instances. 

♡But what are the actual chances that of all the people to come running to your aid in the wilderness, where the only thing for a mile in each direction is woods, beasts and death, just so happens to be your sibling of all people? For a second he wonders if you’d gotten in touch with your sibling yourself - maybe called them over for help in a spot of trouble. But then he catches the way you face brightens with surprise, damn near sinking the poor sod into the dirt with how hard you grapple back to return your brother’s hug. Either you’re a damned good actor, or you’re just as surprised as the rest of them.

♡ Similar to Shadowheart, Astarion is more than a little weary of the sudden appearance. But he will outright sidle up to you on the trek back when your sibling isn’t paying attention to warn you to keep an eye on that brother of yours. There’s all manner of creatures who can wear the faces of men as easily as the clothes on your back, you’re the best person to decide whether this guy is the real deal. All said with a smile of course, though his friendly advice is only met with an eyeroll of all things as you playfully rib him for being so worried.

♡ It’s bizarre really, watching you laugh and joke with your brother. That carefree attitude and playfulness shared with inside jokes and snarky back and forth is a new look for you, though Astarion’s certainly not going to quash it. It’s an entertaining change - makes things more fun even if he could do without the mildly sickening display of a healthy family dynamic. It’s not as though Astarion can exactly relate to it, even with his own ‘siblings’, they’d all spent the better part of two centuries relentlessly undermining one another in a bid for their master’s nonexistent mercy and a taste of freedom that wouldn’t come.

♡ You hadn’t brought anything up about your background at this point - sure, Astarion knew the basics and had been working to get you to open up enough to spill more of the juicy details. But the elf had been firm in toeing the boundary of coaxing information out of you while keeping his closely guarded; an admittedly difficult feat considering with your damned politeness you’d go out of your way to direct any questions received right back at him as a matter of courtesy. You hadn’t made prying easy for him, which is most likely why it has taken so long to get a glimpse at your background - he just didn’t expect it to be in the flesh. 

♡ So when he sees the chance to pry for more information, you can bet he’ll take full advantage of the opportunity. He’s halfway through a glass listening to your brother recounting stories when he lets slip that it’s such a shame you never mentioned the sibling before - to think he’s been missing out on these stories all this time. You know what he’s up to, but your sibling falls for it hook line and sinker, dramatically falling into your side and letting gravity do the rest of the work to make you suffer.

♡ The obvious theatrics of your brother bemoaning your negligence of his memory makes the elf snort into his glass, and your groan and attempts to shove the deadweight off is only doubled when Astarion further stirs the pot about how you’d not even breathed a word about your beloved family. Why, Astarion was beginning to fear the worst for you, how relieved he is to know you’ve got such a lovely family looking out for you.

Rolan

♡ The revelation comes as a surprise to the majority of the party, watching your brother proudly clapping a hand onto your shoulder as he reveals his identity to your new traveling companions. Admittedly, this is not where Rolan ever expected to be when he’d crossed paths with your merry band of misfits for the umpteenth time, and feels rather out of place. He thinks he might be the only one that this is news too, until a quick glance at the varying degrees of confusion and mild distrust reassure him that he’s definitely not the odd one out in this scenario.

♡ For a second Rolan is truly baffled. In all the times that you’ve interacted with one another, Rolan’s always seen you as painfully awkward, going out of your way to be nothing short of polite and well-mannered with varying degrees of success. He’d long grown used to it, coming to expect it by default with each and every encounter. So how is it that someone who appeared out of nowhere and seems to be such a polar opposite to everything he knows about you, be your sibling of all things?

♡ But then he recalls just how different he, Lia and Cal are and it suddenly makes a lot more sense.

♡The next thing he wonders is how you having any family at all never came up before? You’ve shared conversations before, with him less willing to indulge you on a couple of said occasions than others. Surely the topic has come up at least one time before, right?...right? 

♡ He’s never actually asked you, Rolan realizes with a startling clarity. In fact, in all the time you’ve spent traveling and running into one another, the thought of prying into your own backstory and getting overly involved in your history hadn’t really crossed his mind; at least, not enough that he’d blatantly ask without sufficient cause. He was just being polite, is what he tries to convince himself - it would be rude to go getting involved in others affairs like you’ve been doing since you’ve met him.

♡ And yet the realization nags more than it should, feeling a little guilty that of all the times you’ve gone out of your way to learn more about the wizard, he hasn’t thought to do the same for you. He especially feels it upon seeing just how differently you act around your brother; you’re louder, bolder, and aren’t afraid to look like a complete fool - had he ever seen you look that carefree before today? He hopes it’s not the last he sees of it.

♡ He’s neglected to learn more about you before, so he sets to learning now, with about as much tact as an owlbear in an antique shop. He feels too awkward outright asking you about it, so he settles for the next best thing and promptly falls in step with your brother. There’s nothing like sharing stories on the road after all - and given how earnestly the tiefling’s asking, your sibling caves and offers to give him the brief family rundown - if only for the funny stories that he’s been dying to share with anyone who even remotely knows you.

♡ The two of them bond, much to your surprise. About an hour or two into getting settled down at camp you go looking for them; only to find them sharing an already half empty bottle of spirits and shooting stories back and forth about all the wild and reckless shit their respective siblings have gotten into over the years. Rolan flashes you a grin and offers you to join them on the story telling - your brother has shared some dreadfully embarrassing tales and he’s dying to know if there’s any truth to them.

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 1

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; snapshots of you and mark growing up together. neither of you make it to the other end of the spectrum - budding adulthood - unscathed . . . but at least you have each other. what is it they say? Sandbox love never dies.

a/n: alt title [vignettes of a life: growing pains]. here's something to make you wish you were never born xx. this came out wayy longer than i expected & i figured the only way to properly digest it was by breaking it up into chapters. this one’s pretty intense so please heed the warnings. they'll be included in every chapter forward. enjoy! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

1 .

you still remember the fog of childhood innocence.

the fluffy pajamas that were both comfy and scratchy all at once. the stickers on your bedroom wall, on your wooden headboard. plastic restaurant playground mazes, fishing out toys from greasy boxes. the feeling of chalk staining your fingers and gravel digging into your soft knees: chubby legs soon to be scarred.

and amidst the fog, you remember mark. the sporty, hyperactive kid who’d run across the school yard with a sweater wrapped around his neck like a cape, arms spread wide pretending he could fly.

you remember him.

vibrant, loving, quick witted.

it was glaringly obvious all the kids in your grade wanted to be friends with mark grayson. he had a posse: his very own group of 'superheroes', as the teachers used to call it. and before you learned to multiply, something inside you brewed like a poison. you wanted to be like him but you weren't, and so, your stubborn, little kid mind decided you didn't like him.

you hated him, actually. you hated the way he knew all the right answers in class. you hated his laugh. you hated how he was the fastest during sports. you hated how he was fun and smart and good at everything you weren't.

but dislike or not, that didn't stop your fixation. you continued to watch him from afar. and in your journals - to the best of your ability - you drew yourself striding across the playground with a sweater tied around your neck.

you kept to yourself. painfully shy and practically non-verbal: despite your daydreams of someday being a 'normal' kid like mark. your teachers held conferences with your parents about your struggles. despite the fog that blanketed the memories of your childhood: the feeling of dread settling deep in your tummy during the meetings is something that makes you wince to this day.

while you traced patterns into the table in front of you, they'd talk about you as if you weren't in the same room. your teacher did most of the talking. . and, like most of the time, your brain blocked out the sound of her droning voice. instead, your parent's voice was who you heard. and despite struggling to keep up with the onslaught of information, too, all your parent offered was a hushed, “I don't know what's wrong with them.”

you couldn't pay attention. you didn't talk to the other kids. you clung onto your teacher while in class. . and onto your parent during drop-off.

you were different.

intelligent.

but different.

the former a more pressing concern than the latter.

after countless tedious meetings, you soon associated being different with being singled out. being different meant spending an hour sitting in a boring office, listening to teachers repeat the same information - over and over and over again.

a mention about a doctor your parent(s) always refused.

regardless of the calming - sympathetic? - smile of your teacher, it always felt like you were in trouble. even if you couldn't quite put your finger on what you were doing wrong.

on the way home, your parent(s) would eye you through the rearview mirror. you pulled at the loose strings from your sweater and pretended not to notice.

the front door of your childhood home would creak open. your parent(s) would sit at the dinner table, silent, immobile, and - quiet as always - you'd go to your room until you were certain they were asleep to sneak either dinner or a midnight snack.

you were in trouble.

you just didn't know how to stop getting into it.

your teachers grew evermore desperate.

when suggestions of socializing would cause you to clam up: they decided to bite the bullet and break you in by force, hoping your behavior was caused by childhood timidity. one you’d soon outgrow instead of. . something else.

they’d grouped you with myriad of students in hopes you'd socialize or at least participate in something that wasn't independent school work. soon, your tears of frustration when you couldn't communicate correctly no longer held it's child-like charm. your teary, red eyed protests were ignored.

or met with indignation.

until finally - as a last ditch effort you assume - they sat you next to mark grayson.

you protested. not because he made you nervous - which he did - but because you wanted to dislike him. because being in the proximity of everything you wanted to be would be too much to bare. because mark would only make you look even weirder in comparison. but none of it mattered because as soon as the two of you met everything just. . fell into place.

much to your pleasure, he did most of the talking and didn't seem weirded out by your social skills - or lack thereof.

you found your tummy didn't hurt when he spoke to you and he didn't ask you something along the lines of why are you this way? why aren't you like the rest of us?

for the first time while in school, you were comfortable. the overwhelming pressure of having to perform was nonexistent in mark's company.

he'd ask you about your favorite cartoons and movies, and books, and “oh! do you read any comics?!”, and ranted on how unfair it was that the two of you would soon be forced to read books without pictures in them.

his excitement barely let you get a word in. his energy was contagious, all consuming, and the attention he gave you felt like the praise you'd hardly ever receive. you forgot all about your dumb vendetta, wondering why you had one in the first place. and you morphed into a mini version of him.

the two of you were attached by the hip by the end of the week. much to the dismay of your teachers, who you were sure began to rethink their decision when the two of you wouldn't behave in class.

and, perhaps, it was a mistake. they wouldn't want you to potentially stunt mark’s growth - what if it was contagious?

unbeknownst to you, your teachers did think about separating the two of you. but the risk of you reverting to your old ways and the possibility of invoking debbie grayson’s wrath must've been far too high for their liking.

ultimately, a unanimous decision was made to grit their teeth and bare it.

in the meantime, his posse reluctantly welcomed you in. mark even gave you your very own superhero name! and you tried your hardest to keep up with him. for his sake. for your own.

god knows you tried.

but you were never good at performing.

you weren't as fast or as agile as him. you couldn't jump high enough and your sound effects were nowhere near as good. and in an attempt to overcompensate, you overestimated yourself, took a leap you knew you couldn't make, and scraped your knee.

and like a true hero, mark was the first to come to your aid. he'd sat you down on the plastic playset of the playground while you sniveled - part due to embarrassment instead of the stinging, throbbing pain of a scraped knee. he'd dabbed at your injury with crumbled tissue and placed a colorful seance dog band-aid over your cut.

when you finished rubbing your eye with your tiny fist, you didn't see beading blood and irritated flesh, instead, you were met with big, dark brown eyes that glimmered as they stared into yours.

he was close enough to count his eyelashes.

“see?” he patted a chubby hand against your knee gently. “all better!”

and, yeah - heat spread across your cheeks with newfound emotion - it was all better. all evidence of injury, the throbbing pain and blood, was long gone save for the aid he’d given you.

he’d patched you up. he'd made you better. in more ways than one. and what remained was a fuzzy feeling inside your chest.

he’d grinned at you with missing front teeth.

and you found yourself grinning back.

CHAPTER 2