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[sunni-stuff]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends

characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai

AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry

TENGEN

- this isn’t just a little fling

-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf

-he wants to be your HUSBAND

- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP

- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband

- ur getting 3 wives too

- it’s a package deal

- overprotective!!

- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission

- my heart was bursting

- carries u around

- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor

- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are

- he’s bigger and taller

-he's big all over if ykyk

-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby

- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute

- he’s absolutely mocking you

-which brings me to…

- this man teases the HELL out of you

- but with love

- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives

- in his mind ur alrdy married

- and he is NOT letting you go

- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it

- 4 lifer fr

- id marry him

SANEMI

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

-he’d tear it UP

-and i’d let him

- loves you so much

- doesn’t show it in public

- but in private?

- clingy as fUck

- he’s like ur shadow fr

- will follow u around all day

- hands on ur waist

- arm around ur shoulder

- holding ur hand

- he will not let go of u when ur alone

- in public he’s a lot less touchy

- but he will still stand near you

- jealous af

- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar

- you belong to him

- makes sure they know it

- makes sure you know it

-hickey MASTER

-no i will not elaborate

- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges

- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you

- but he does try

- he’s got a reputation to keep up!

-gotta act tough

-no weaknesses!!

- except for u

-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it

- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)

-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone

-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder

-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place

-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir

-claims ur super light no matter ur size

-hence the nickname "feather"

-i love him

GIYUU

-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up

-speaking of chokeholds... ;)

-put me in one pls sir

-anyways

-awkward as fuck

-but he tries for u

-terrible with physical affection

-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved

-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch

-and make sure he's not uncomfortable

-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you

-takes a very long time to say "i love you"

-but can u blame him??

-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(

-because of this he's veryyyy protective

-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is

-is hurt or killed

-100% will die for u without a second thought

-not really a nickname type of guy

-remember he's awkward as hell

-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name

-and even that is only when y'all are alone

-but still

-even if he doesn't always show it

-you are always on his mind

-he's on a mission and walking through a market?

-he's buying you a hairpin or som

-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?

-"i wonder if she'll like these"

-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET

-ugh soft for bf giyuu

RENGOKU

-sunshine boy!!!

- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend

-all smiles all the time

-follows u around like lost puppy

-shows off for u

-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao

-thats him

-"did you see what i just did?!"

-if u didnt...

-he's doing it again

-wants to impress you so bad

-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence

-service bf!!

-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?

-he's on it

-you need help styling ur hair?

-welcome to rengoku's hair salon

-will attempt to dress you in the morning

-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head

-zipping up ur pants

-and tying ur shoes

-brags about you to anyone and everyone

-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow

-compliments compliments compliments!!!

-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it

-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart

-constantly confessing his love

-also lowkey speaks poetry for u

-some shit like

-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"

-ugh he's the sweetest baby

MUICHIRO

-my airheaded angel baby

-i love him sm stop

-baby boy has a terrible memory

-that we alrdy knew

-but!

-he tries so hard for you

-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you

-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over

-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time

-can not and will not remember anniversaries

-unless they're written in that journal

-will pick u flowers

-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that

-but it's the thought that counts

-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts

-you wanna go on a date?

-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together

-maybe a picnic if ur lucky

-no nicknames from him

-he calls you by your name

-its all he can remember

-he's the cutest

OBANAI

-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public

-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you

-at least not to the other hashira

-might not be glued to your side

-but he's got eyes on u at all times

-and someone is talking about you?

-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth

-he's tuned in

-and they better not say anything negative either

-mans turns murderous

-they will wake up to a snake in their bed

-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life

-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around

-cause he's got everything

-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of

-protective but not pushy

-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself

-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you

-you're not drinking enough water?

-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all

-haven't had lunch yet?

-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.

-on a mission with him?

-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything

-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either

-he's got ur back

-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames

-nothing too crazy

-especially in public

-mostly uses ur first name

-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while

-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"

-acts like a hard ass

-but he's soft for u

[sinshiney]

G: .....I’ve never heard that expression before. H: Maybe it’s a generational thing? My aunts say it all the time.

(description under the cut)

[A four panel comic that takes place in a coffee shop. Harrow is a customer and Gideon and Camilla are baristas. Panel 1: Gideon hands Harrow a paper coffee cup and says, “Black coffee for Ha-- hey! Your earrings are really cute!”

Panel 2: Harrow has numerous piercings in her ears, left eyebrow, and lower lip. But the large, dangling skeletons that hang from her lobes are the most notable. She is flustered and says, “Oh! Well, you know what they say...” Gideon smiles politely.

Panel 3: The background is dark and Harrow’s face is half hidden in dramatic shadow. She says, “THERE IS A SKELETON IN EVERYONE, JUST WAITING TO COME OUT.”

Panel 4: Harrow walks away from the service counter, looking forlornly at the cup in her hands as she wonders, “Why did I buy this?” Gideon leans on the counter, watching her go, and Camilla leans on Gideon. Camilla asks, “Did that goth kid just threaten you?” Gideon smiles and says, “Yep!”]

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Summoned Demon Part 4

#Holiday Requests I would love updates to Child Support, The Summoned Demon, and Passion For Fashion

Danny had no idea where he was.

No one around him could understand what he was saying, and he couldn't read anything either. After running through the suburbs, Danny had made his way on foot into the large city. There was nothing familiar about where the cults had summoned him to.

Everything looked wrong. The clothes, the cars, the street ads, and even the people. He stood on the side of a corner, attempting to make heads or tails of his surroundings, but people passed by him like water in a river.

It must have been the fact he was covered in dirt.

Thankfully, a group of teens had been willing to stop his frantic shouting. One girl had snapped her fingers, then waved rectangular screens at him- What was that thing?- speaking into it.

The rectangular screen spoke in what he thinks is a different language, but not anything Danny could understand. Her face fell but she seemed determined to get him to talk into her rectangle. When he did, it gave her soft buz like the ones that are played on game shows where a constant gets a wrong answer.

The girl had looked at her companions, utterly lost, until one of them stepped forward and started playing charades. There were a lot of vague hand motions and desperate gestures when he attempted to explain his situation, and the children were able to direct him to the police station.

No one on staff was able to translate what he was saying. However, they did seem mighty alarmed by how he was covered in dirt and speaking a foreign language. They had given him some water and a change of clothes and sat him in a room with a two-way mirror. Danny felt safe knowing the authorities were on his side, sipping his water at the little table while he waited.

Time moved slowly when more and more police officers entered, attempting to establish communication with him. They placed a list of writing in front of him, each line a different symbol, and he knew they were meant to be a language.

The aging man with white streaks dusting his red hair adjusted his glasses, then pointed to the first sentence on the list. Danny said something slowly, patting his chest with an open palm, then pointing more determinedly at the line.

"Is that your language?" Danny asks, scanning the lines and realizing he can't read one. He shakes his head "I'm sorry I don't understand."

The old man frowns then stands. He places a chocolate bar on the table- or what Danny thinks is one, he can't read what it says, and it's quickly frustrating- before heading out of the room. A few more minutes go by when a man wearing one of the police uniforms but a long, more outdated one walks through the door.

Danny blinks up at him as the man carefully considers his face. He avoids looking at the bullet holes decorating the cop's chest. "Wow, you seem pretty young. Wonder what you did to get old Gordon to personally question you?"

Danny chances to look at the two-way mirror before muttering. "I didn't do anything, sir. I got kidnapped."

The man turns around, arms still folded over his chest, but the second he realizes the door has remained firmly shut, he whirls around, gawking at Danny. "You can see me?"

"Yes, sir. I'm half ghost on my mother's side." He jokes but still maintains a level of respect. The Fentons joked around often, but they always respected those in service until the person proved unworthy of the uniform.

"Holy shit!" The policeman laughs. "I don't think you can pass down the family tree like that kid."

Danny cracks a smile. "You be surpirse."

"Guess I am. Who knew I would be shocked twice after my death?!" The man's jolly laugh makes Danny relax just a little. He doesn't even mind that the ghost's heaving chest is splatting a few drops of red on the table. "Haven't laughed like that in years. By the way, kid, my name is Alex. Alex Anderson."

"I'm Danny Fenton." Danny smiles, offering his hand for a shake. Alex hesitates, reaching out only to have his face brighten when he makes solid contact and eagerly pumps their joint limbs up and down. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Pleasure is all mine." Alex claps his hands, settling- somewhat as he goes slightly through the metal- in the chair opposite Danny. He laces his fingers under his chin and offers another impish grin. "So what's this about a kidnapping?"

Danny straightens, rapidly recapping his last few days. Alex doesn't interrupt, listening with an intensity that tells Danny he's being taken seriously even if he's still smiling like there is nothing wrong in the world. When Danny is done, he has to take a breath and top off his drink as Alex considers his words.

"That's a rough couple of days, Kid," Alex says at the end, leaning more on his hands. Danny nods sadly, feeling utterly exhausted. He's not sure where the nice older man went, but no one had come to check up on him for a while, and he's starting to feel cagy.

Alex considers him a little longer before throwing his head back with a sigh. "Alright. I guess I need to help you escape. I feel too guilty if I just let Gordon hand you over."

"What?"

Alex stands, pretending to stretch his arms over his head. He nods to the two-way mirror, clicking his tongue at it. "Yeah, Gordon called Batman a while ago when they were trying to figure out your language. This place will be swarming with vigilantes and their magic users any minute now."

"Batman?" Danny repeats, rising to his feet. "What's Batman?"

"The guy who put you in that cave cage." Alarm fills Danny's veins as he realizes that this whole time, the police were setting him up to be returned to the cultist. Was the entire city in on this!? "Normally, I wouldn't be making deals with people Gordon deems unsafe, but given that you're half ghost, I've chosen to ignore my morals in solitary."

"But why?! Why would they give me back to them!?" He demands, rising to his feet and backing away until his back hits a wall.

"I was Gordon's first partner," Alex tells him, gesturing at his chest. "I died to make sure the idiot got back to his wife and kids. Ever since he's done everything he could to make Gotham safe. As much as Batman makes me uneasy, he is doing a good job cleaning this place up and doing what I can't do anymore. I'm trapped inside this building, but I've seen the bats plenty of times, so I know they are not dangerous. I also know they will not shoot first or ask questions later; this is your only chance to get away until you can establish communication. Take it."

Alex gestures to the wall behind Danny. "Can you faze through?"

Danny lets himself sink through the stone just as the door is kicked up, and three cops rush in with raised guns. He ends up in another interrogation room- because that's where he was. They had not placed him somewhere safe; they had set him up for capture- where a man handcuffed to the table screams. Danny apologizes desperately, trying to get the guy to stop yelling, as Alex yanks him by the collar of his shirt.

"No time for manners, Kid! You have to get out of the building. Bat's just landed on the roof!" Danny races through the walls, ignoring the people who shout and scatter at his sight until Alex leads him straight out of the building. The ghost stops behind a window, where chains had manifested and wrapped around him, preventing him from going forward.

Alex doesn't seem to pay them any mind as he points in a direction. "Head that way until you see a giant clown. The Joker is currently in custody, but there are thousands of ghosts in his old hideout. Someone is bound to know what to do. If that fails follow the road with the white bricks to Old Gotham. Lots of Magic rooted there. Maybe you'll find something."

"How do you know that?"

"My mom was a professional card reader. I inherited some of her ability to sense the paranormal, and trust me when I say Old Gotham always felt cursed." Alex pauses before tilting his head. "If you ever get to talk to Gordon, tell him I forgive him. And the key to our treasure is at our old hideout. Tell him I still love him even if he picked her."

Danny's eyes fill with water. "I promise."

"Good." There was a loud thump as a man in a trench coat raced down the hallway, aiming his glowing hands at Danny. Alex threw himself before the bright yellow beam, spreading his arms wide as he made a shield. For a second, Danny's vision overlaps with a similar image of Alex blocking a young redhead man in the same position. "Now go, Kid!"

Danny shifts into Phantom, flying at his top speed without further comment. Behind him, he hears someone with a British accent swear, and Alex's cries of pain nearly cause him to forge turn intangible when he flies through traffic.

There had to be some way he could find a living person who understood him

_____________________________________________________

"What happened?" Bruce demands as John pushes something in a jar. Since it looks like an impressive mime trick, he's fairly sure it's actually a ghost causing problems for the Brit.

"Bloody demon had help from a human soul," The blond grunted, grabbing at the air. "Stubborn one that seemed convinced it was helping a child."

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

Bruce feels his eyebrow twitch but remains impassive overall. Right now, he's Batman, and Batman does not let emotions cloud his mind. "Why would a ghost think it was helping a child? Demons can't hide their nature from paranormals. John, are we chasing a child?"

"Normally, I would say, yeah, the thing is a child, but this one isn't your average spook. It's powerful. You saw it, right? The demon shifted forms, and I couldn't even see its second form until the two bright rings of light. If it could fool me into thinking the human flesh suit was its real form, it can easily fool a ghost."

"If it's so powerful," Tim cuts in, walking towards the pair with a floating hologram from his wrist. The integration room security camera plays on it, displaying the demon calmly sipping water. "Then why didn't it escaped before? All it did for three hours before Gordon was alerted was wait."

John frowns at the camera, sealing the jar with a wax melt. "That is odd. Normally, things on that power level do everything, but be calm."

Bruce didn't like this. They had lost something powerful in his city; it had evaded detection only to waltz right into custody, where it had just as easily escaped. They had also confirmed that the demon was visiting the children previously offered to him as sacrifice.

In fact, when Steph interviewed her, the teenager insisted that the demon seemed lost and frightened.

First, there was young Jack, then Molly, who had attempted to help him with a translation app. The girl didn't seem to consider otherworldly language was untransltable. She behaved as if the demon with its harsh, raspy voice and chilling presence was not there to harm her.

Which one was the truth? His experts of the supernatural or the signs that the possible demon was dropping. That it was just a lost child terrified out of his mind?

Bruce had too many questions and not nearly enough to get any kind of answers. They needed to capture the boy again.

[morganbritton132]

Steve Has Older Siblings AU: Robin Edition

In an ideal world, Steve’s family life is completely separate from everything important. But in an ideal world, monsters don’t exist so, you know.

1. Technically the first of Steve’s siblings that Robin meets is Jason because he came into Scoops Ahoy to be an asshole. Robin liked to see King Steve knocked down a peg or two more than the next person but not by a forty year old (he’s 32) loser who has nothing better to do on a Tuesday afternoon. Robin sees him knock Steve’s hat off his head and then informs him that they had a zero tolerance harassment policy (they don’t) and they can and are denying him service. “So leave, now.”

2. The first time she is aware that she’s meeting one of Steve’s siblings is after Starcourt burns down. They were drugged, tired, and Russians took Steve’s car keys so it felt like a good idea to just lay back on the hood of the Beemer and watch the smoke swirl in the air until they come up with what to do.

They never think of anything, and she is startled awake the next morning hungover and dehydrated by someone laying on their horn. Robin looks at the car and then at Steve, and then asks, “Is that your dad?”

Steve - looking somehow worse than yesterday - just blinks in the direction of the car like, “Richie?”

“Get in the car,” Richie practically seethes, barely lets them get in before he starts asking questions like, what the fuck and are you high, right now?”

“I don’t dooo drugs, Dad,” Steve spat out annoyed and Robin, in the backseat, felt compelled to adds, “Drugs do me.”

They both start giggling and can’t stop even when Richie tries to lecture them.

3. Robin meets Jason again when he attacks her.

She doesn’t remember much about the car ride back to Loch Nora or how Steve convinced Richie not to take them to the hospital, but she remembers flopping face first onto Steve’s cloud of a bed. She remembers him taking her shoes off for her and pulling the covers up.

Then she is rudely woken up by a hand yanking her out of bed and big arms wrapping around her head. They’re barely there before Steve is shoving them off her like, “Fuck off, Jason.”

“Carver?” She asks but, no. It’s the dick from the mall. She is ignored while Jason prattles on about how it’s not his fault that Steve looks so much like a girl that he confused him with one. Then he’s whistling about how Steve has a girl in his bed and how surprising that is to them considering they all thought he was a queer.

Robin stiffens beside him. New queer ally, Steve Harrington, not wanting her to be uncomfortable, blurts out, “What if I am?”

And the room goes quiet. Steve’s quiet. Jason’s frozen. Richie, coming in through the door, wasn’t moving. This family doesn’t really paint a picture of unconditional love and acceptance so Robin throws her entire (unsuccessful) theater career into use and slugs Steve in the arm with a snort like, “Yeah, right. With all the girls you flirt with? Ha!”

And everything comes back to life. The hospital conversation comes up and morphs into an argument immediately. Robin is just happy to fade into the background and observe.

4. Robin probably should’ve met Claire that day too but the hospital was an apparent disaster. She actually meets Claire randomly at Family Video.

She sees a woman who’s kinda cute come in and peruse the shelves. She comes to the counter where Robin is on register and Steve is stocking candy right next to her.

She’s carrying The Muppet Movie and makes small talk about watching it with her kids, and never looks twice in Steve’s directly. She’s not in the system and just laughs, “It’s probably under my maiden name, Harrington.”

Robin gives her a tight smile and finishes the transaction. Claire leaves with barely a ‘bye’ to her brother and Robin decides right there that she hates them all.

[cyberm4n]

HI I LOVED UR HYPERSEXUAL FEM READER HEADCANONS UR WRITING IS SO GOOD

Soo I'm here to request the vees (mainly vox but idc) x hypersexual Fem reader pleasee 😭🙏

if not that's okay and I hope you have a nice day/night!! feel free to delete this lol

-xoxo, Ari

THANK YOU <3333 i love the vees and ive been looking for an excuse to write them so this is perfect

vees with hypersexul reader

going with the same scenario as last time- you've just finished a round and (char) is spent but you're already ready to go again

《— vox —》

■ he seems like a 2 rounds kinda guy so after that second round and yall are just laying there he is SPENT

■ so when you roll over to lay on his chest like "one more time?" with a little smile on your face, as if yall did not just violently fuck it takes him a moment

■ he's spent, so spent. but he really wants to please you

■ he'd get used to it tbh. like he's mentally prepared everytime now but maybe sometimes he can do a round 3

■ he'd resort to toys i think, only the best for his girl <3

■ there's also something he loves about getting to hold you and watch you writhe in pleasure and he just gets to watch

■ he'd always take your preferences into mind with toys too. like if you want smth specific he's got it for you

■ i feel like he might prefer if yall are spent at the same time so the foreplay goes CRAZY

■ like it's not just foreplay it's actual rounds of getting you to cum before the main event yk

■ or sometimes he'll just ask if it'd be okay to be done for the night when he is

■ he doesn't mind either way but he'd definitely want to communicate about it

■ so yeah it might take him a little bit to adjust bit he'd be just fine!

《— valentino —》

■ okay let's be real this man fucks A LOT so he can probably do like. 3 or 4 lengthy rounds before he's tapped out

■ it's making me giggle about it but like okay val is a kinky guy, and like especially if the first time yall do anything it's a little bit rougher he is SHOCKED when you're down for more

■ he's prly into something like overstim where normally you kinda gotta reel from it after so when he's done and it takes you like. a minute or two to be like "do you wanna do it again?" he judt looks down at you so confused

■ he takes a moment, blinking. he'd definitely ask if you're kidding or smth and then finding out you're not he has to take a moment

■ like, he finds it fucking awesome but jesus christ he's finally met hsi match

■ he might use toys on you or go down on you, depends how he's feeling tbh

■ i think he'd lean towards going down on you, idk he just seems like he'd be a bit of a munch.

■ and if you're okay with it when yall fuck in the future he's constantly just seeing how far you can go before you're spent

■ long story short he's totally chill abt it when he gets used to it and thinks it's fucking great

《— velvette —》

■ okay im literally giggling and kicking my feet while typing this

■ she seems like a 2 or 3 round kind of gal

■ idk femxfem sex doesn't really go in rounds ime but like. yk.

■ so after she's spent, she's like so ready to cuddle up and sleep. but then you're caressing her cheek, nuzzling into her neck. "again?" you murmur and she has to take a moment

■ cause like, she's just super surprised you're still ready for another.

■ she'd ask the most questions abt it. like she'd want to just know more so she can support you better

■ she'd go down on you tho! anytime! she definitely has toys but she seems like the type to be more inclined to eat you out

■ if she gets tired of that she'd use a toy on you. but she stays engaged the whole time, super attentive.

■ she's a service switch so like getting to keep you pleased like this makes her feel good and she doesn't mind at all

■ once again, all of them would embrace it and they do not mind at all!

■ if you guys with the poly hc for the vees i think it just makes it so much better for them to know it's really hard to burn you out

■ i loved this request ty <3

taglist: @reaper-of-light-12 @mxxny-lupin @wisteria-songs @t3llas @concentratedconcrete @pansexual-opera-house @dionysusismypatrongod

taglist form

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 4

You can find more chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny had seen some chaotic birthday parties in his time at The Fun Zone, but this one took the cake—and he wasn’t even exaggerating. The group that had just walked in seemed like a random collection of mismatched personalities: a cocky black haired guy, a towering dad-type who was trying way too hard to be casual, a snarky girl in a leather jacket, a small scowling kid who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and—oh no, it was Tim again.

Danny adjusted his uniform and sighed, plastering on his best customer service smile. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Are you here for laser tag, mini-golf, or just to add to my growing migraine?”

A man with stark black hair stepped forward, grinning like he owned the place. “We’re here for a birthday party!”

Danny blinked. “You booked it in advance, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the guy said, brushing off the question with a wave. “It’s all taken care of.”

The scowling kid, who couldn’t have been older than twelve, crossed his arms. “Grayson, this is beneath me. I don’t need a childish party.”

“Oh, come on, Dami,” the guy—apparently named Grayson—said, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You’re going to love it. Laser tag, mini-golf, go-karts—it’s got everything!”

Damian swatted his hand away with a growl. “I said, stop calling me that.”

The girl in the leather jacket smirked. “Yeah, but the kid here’s turning twelve. We’re here to make sure he has the time of his life, whether he likes it or not.”

Danny gave her a skeptical look. “You sure he doesn’t prefer, like, a book club or chess tournament? He looks like he’d rather set this place on fire than play mini-golf.”

“I would,” Damian said flatly.

“Don’t listen to him,” Dick said, leaning on the counter. “We’re doing this. Can you, uh, set us up with the works?”

Danny sighed, grabbing a clipboard. “Fine. I’ll need the birthday kid’s name. And don’t tell me it’s Grumpy McFrownsalot.”

Dick laughed. “It’s Damian.”

Danny jotted the name down and handed him a stack of wristbands. “Great. Have fun, don’t break anything, and if you end up in a go-kart race, try not to ram into each other. You break it, you buy it.”

Dick beamed. “Thanks, man.”

An hour in, Danny regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

Damian, the birthday kid, was terrifying. He played laser tag like he was training for actual war, and he refused to use the pre-loaded names on the scoreboard, insisting his codename be changed to Death’s Shadow. He also managed to hack into the system to change everyone else’s names to things like Grayson the Fool and Drake the Useless.

The girl—Steph, he’d heard someone call her—was running commentary on everything, laughing every time Damian destroyed someone in laser tag. “Dami’s ruthless! Look at that kill count!”

Tim, predictably, was trying to strategize, calling out team plays like this was some kind of black-ops mission. “Jason, cover the left flank! Dick, stop running in circles!”

Danny’s ears perked up at that. “Wait. Jason?” he muttered to himself, glancing over toward the go-karts.

Sure enough, Red Hood—his boss—was standing next to the track in civilian clothes, looking like he wanted to commit murder. He’d been dragged along under protest, and now he was stuck watching Dick and Tim throw Damian a party in what was technically his turf.

Danny sidled over, slapping on a grin. “Hey, boss. Didn’t know you did birthday parties.”

Jason scowled. “Don’t start with me, Fenton.”

Danny chuckled. “I mean, it’s kind of adorable. You’ve got the whole supportive older brother vibe going on.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his temples. “They’re doing this to piss me off. Dick knows this is my place.”

“Your boss’s place,” Danny corrected. To try to keep Hood's true identity safe from his supposed siblings? friends? Hell if Danny knows at this point. “And hey, the kid seems to be having fun. That’s worth something, right?”

They both glanced over to see Damian obliterating another group of kids in mini-golf, his precision terrifyingly perfect. Dick was cheering him on, and Steph was doubled over laughing at the chaos.

Jason sighed. “This is hell.”

By the end of the party, the Fun Zone looked like a war zone. Damian had won every single activity with brutal efficiency, leaving no survivors in laser tag, mini-golf, or go-karts. Dick had somehow convinced Danny to bring out the giant birthday sundae, which Damian reluctantly poked at while glaring at everyone like they’d personally insulted his honor.

As they were leaving, Dick clapped Danny on the shoulder. “Thanks for putting up with us. You’re a champ.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny said, yawning. “Just make sure you tip me enough to cover therapy.”

Dick laughed, handing him a suspiciously generous wad of cash. “Consider it done.”

As the door chimed shut behind them, Jason walked over, shaking his head. “If you tell anyone about this, you’re fired.”

Danny smirked. “Sure thing, boss. But you owe me hazard pay.”

[hay-jud]

A little Jewish joy this Rosh Hashanah:

Before the kids left the service for activities, our rabbi let them come up and sit on the steps to talk with them. After, she asked one of the kids if he wanted to blow his shofar again (he'd blown it to open services). He said he wanted his little brother to blow it. So he helped his 4 year old brother to hold up the huge ram's horn and the little guy successfully did it! Everyone laughed and applauded and smiles were abound as the kids left.

I know this kid a little; he's so proud he's Jewish and was so excited to start Hebrew school last year. Just happy to see our future is so bright.

[wyervan]

@r0tting-rat & @amarynthian-fortress I hope you don’t mind each other’s company in this ask.

I also hope u don’t mind that I tried writing for this ask. Also it’s halfway through November 😆 hope your not too sick of Halloween. I know I never am 😝

It’s been a reeeeally long time since I’ve written much of anything 😳 but I wanted to try it out again and both you guys are such amazing writers and i would be totally open to your feedback and suggestions 🥺🥺

DCA Slasher AU

content warnings: general spookiness i guess lol? oh but also characters describing acts of graphic violence :D

🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾 🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾

The October air is refreshingly cool as you step out from your car. Looking up into the fading pale sky, you see pink cirrus clouds lining a glowing sunset. You stand there for a moment and inhale deeply, briefly in awe of the color of the light. A sudden whistling breeze rattles the branches of a balding tree, sending a flurry of yellow leaves skittering across the parking lot.

Remembering that you have somewhere to be, you turn on your heel, slamming the car door a bit too hard and startling both yourself and a crow that was sitting on a nearby fencepost. It chides you sternly for your disruption with a caw.

Ignoring the jeer, you start down the sidewalk toward downtown, joining a half a dozen others leaving the lot, all of them dressed in varying degrees of costume.

Apparently for Halloween this year, the town had sectioned off a whole six block radius of shops, restaurants, and other commercial establishments to encourage business and tourism for the holiday. Blockades prevented cars from entering the area for the evening while vendor booths and pedestrians filled the streets. Local businesses handed out goodies to the trick or treaters, usually working in some advertisement of their wares and services.

You found yourself actually excited for this Halloween in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. You even dressed up! Ahh—kinda. You just pulled something from your closet and did your hair in a way that made you look like that one character from that show that you watched two seasons of three years ago.

But you had promised Sun you’d wear a costume tonight. You had left work much earlier than usual, vowing to return to the arcade now and stay late to assist with the festivities. Your outfit was quick enough to put on that you had managed to sneak in a nap before heading back out.

You pass kids in costumes. They walk and chitter to each other excitedly, yelping happily and playfully pushing each other around. A smile spreads widely across your face at the sight of their joy. Parents or scowling teen siblings follow closely behind. Now inside the blockades, booths displaying all manner of seasonally-themed crafts, foodstuffs, and trinkets line both sides of the street, people flitting from vendor to vendor. Candy bowls sit ripe for pillaging at the edge of every station.

Enjoying the sights and sounds, but not wanting to get caught up with the fair, you stick to the sidewalk. You round the last corner and across the street you see a small crowd of strange creatures gathered in front of the arcade—a cat, a wizard, two pirates, Shrek, and multiple Disney princesses.

Their attention, you see as you cross the street and finally step on to the curb in front of the arcade, is entirely focused the clown crouched in front of them. You stop behind the group of kids and the clown’s eyes raise meet yours, flick down your form, and then refocus on the little girl in front of him, all in half a second.

“Mr. Sun, we know magic isn’t real. My cousin showed me that trick and then he showed me an entire book about fake magic! It’s all slide a hand or whatever…”

The clown, dressed in pale bright yellow and burgundy stripes, shakes his mane and brandishes a card with bear and the number 4 on it to the girl (one of the pirates). His already wide grin stretches further.

“Little Captain Shelley, if magic wasn’t real, then how did I know that this is the card you actually wanted, hmm?” he says.

Shelley the Pirate opens her mouth to retort, but before she can say anything, the clown suddenly flicks his pinkie and flips the card once, twice, thrice… and then there’s a bar of chocolate grasped between his gloved fingers instead of the bear card.

The other kids give small gasps of delight. Shelley is quiet and wide-eyed for a moment before a shy smile breaks over her face and she snatches up the chocolate bar, dashing away giggling to her parents standing a few paces away. They scold her lightly for not saying “thank you” to the clown, who is now passing out candies to the remaining trick or treaters.

You look around, taking in the decor that you and your bosses sweated over just this morning. You had watched as Sun hung string lights from the eaves at painstakingly even lengths. The goofy-looking giant spider that you had wrestled with earlier sat fat and content in a gauzy net of cobweb pinned over a window. A fog machine situated in the entrance between the two sets of doors into the arcade spilt thick mist out onto the pavement.

You spy the other clown fifteen or so feet away, slumped in a fold-out lawn chair next to the arcade’s doors. His deep blue hat and pants, accented with yellow stars, stand out starkly against the ruddy red of his seat. He’s already watching you—head propped up in one hand braced against the chair arm, the other idly fishing through the bucket of sweets he has resting in his lap.

“Star light, star bright, won’t you grant me candy tonight?”

You pull your attention back down to the red and yellow clown to see that the trick or treaters have ran off to raze other pastures, leaving him alone with you. He’s looking up at you now, cheeky grin cradled in his palms... then suddenly springs from his haunches to his full height—easily six and a half feet. The bells on his wrists chime abruptly with the motion. He weaves his fingers together, palms out, and brings his arms out and over his head, spine arching with the force of a full-body stretch.

He drops his long arms and takes one stride to close the distance between you. He leans a bit to the side, hand going absently to rub at his left knee, and gives a dramatically contented sigh. “Ahh. Little monsters and princesses may come and go, but the Star always returns to the evening sky,” waxes the clown—who is your boss of course, because that’s the kind of life you lead now.

Ah. And he’s in character. More so than usual.

“Starlight, what kind of treats did you bring us?” he asks, bright blue eyes wide, chin tucked to gaze steadily down at you.

“Oh shit. I forg-“

He leans further in toward you, face suddenly less than a foot from yours, and you jump a bit. He raises a single slender finger as if giving an instruction, or about to shush you.

“Language, Star, especially when there are children in the vicinity. Anyway, it’s fine, fine, fine. We have more inside” Sun steps back and gives a dismissive wave. “Moony, could you get the two other five pound candy bags from the breakroom, pleeease?”

Moon’s head rolls lazily to give Sun a dead look, long strands of black hair spilling across the stark light side of his face.

“You can have all the licorice, red and black.” Sun states.

Apparently satisfied with this, Moon’s head lolls back to a neutral position. He sets his candy bucket on the sidewalk, gets up with a low grunt, and trudges through the fog and into the arcade. You turn, opening your mouth to ask Sun what he’d like you to do now that your here, but he’s already prancing back to his post—just in time to excitedly meet a Mario and Luigi pair.

You walk over and take up Moon’s nearly empty bucket of candy. Hmm… you wondered if Moon had been eating most of this himself, judging by the numerous empty wrappers mixed in with few yet untouched pieces of chocolate you see at the bottom of the bucket.

“Trick or treat!” Two pairs of children’s sneakers enter your vision.

You look up to see a couple of familiar faces—Gregory and Cassie, both wearing blocky helmets and body pieces made of tinfoil-covered cardboard and covered in glued-on switches, buttons, and dials. They have their arms and legs stuck through wide flexible tubing and are holding lumpy pillowcases filled with their spoils.

“Oh, hey guys. Robots—nice. How’s the haul been tonight?” you ask.

The styrofoam balls that top the antennae attached to their helms bounce in the air when they look at each other and nod their square heads.

“Pretty good. Wickson’s down the street was giving out caramel apples. Think you can top that?” Cassie says.

You glance down at the meager dregs of what was left in the candy bucket. But before you can offer up the scant pickings and apologize, Moon’s voices rasps from behind you.

“Kid, don’t you know treats aren’t for brats?” Moon’s arm brushes your shoulder as he remerges from the arcade, two bags of assorted candies clutched in one fist. He looks down on Gregory, lips pulled into a slight sneer. Gregory faces him fully and juts up his chin at a defiant angle.

“Sounds like a sore loser talking.”

“Kid, I already beat your score again this morning. Ain’t got nothing to be sore about.” The sneer turns into a smug lopsided smile, displaying a sharp canine. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Moon had forgone his usual nap on the break room couch, choosing instead to stand hunched over an arcade cabinet for the entire morning upon seeing GREG in mocking neon green at the top of the high scores. His desperation was evident by eleven when he snapped at you for vacuuming too close to the power cable.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll be back in this weekend.” Gregory promises, narrowing his eyes and attempting to awkwardly cross his tube arms in front of his blocky shell. “Your scores aren’t safe.”

Moon rolls his eyes and brings the hand holding the candy bags up, releasing one into the bucket you’re holding. Unprepared for the sudden weight, you almost drop it. He grips the top of the other in both hands and splits the plastic seam. Then he offers it stiffly to Gregory and Cassie.

“Here. Before I change my mind. Pick what you want then scram. No licorice though.” The kids don’t hesitate, hands diving into the bag to fish out a Banana Laffy Taffy and an Almond Joy. Both of them crinkle their noses at the choice the other made. Cassie smiles sweetly and thanks Moon, starting back toward the vendor booths. Gregory also turns to leave but then gives Moon another narrow-eyed look. He brings two fingers up to his own eyes and then turns his hand so that his fingers jut toward Moon—the classic gesture for I’m watching you—then he waddles away, tube legs impeding his movement slightly.

You set the candy bucket down in Moon’s chair and turn to face him, hands coming to your hips.

“Kind of lazy, don’t you think, to just be wearing your work costume for Halloween?” you tease and flick the bell of his hat resting at his shoulder. Moon just shrugs and gives you a bored look. His thick dark eyebrows flick up.

“Yeah, and what are you suppose to be? Some sort of nerd businessman?”

“No! What? You don’t know? I’m that one guy from that show with all the other people who all do the thing together.”

The street light above you two suddenly flickers on. You look up at the sky. In the half hour or so since you had left your rental, it had already darkened to a bruising indigo. You look back to Moon and in the stark orangey light, you spot a dark reddish mark on the white half of his shirt that you didn’t see before. You peer closer and raise a finger to point out the stain just below the blue ruffle collar he wore around his neck. “Hey, you got something right there. Jeez, is that blood?”

You scan him over again, looking for any sign of injury but find nothing concerning on what two-toned skin you could see… but looking at him carefully revealed an even larger stain on the dark-side of his costume, deepening the charcoal color of the fabric to almost black.

Glancing back up, you see a strangely stiff expression frozen on his mouth. But Moon’s eyes are intense, slightly wide, trained carefully on you. A spark of something jumps in your stomach under his gaze. You look away and try to break the weird sudden energy with a joke. “You know you should really be more careful while you laze about on—“

“Last time I wore this, I killed someone.”

This statement, spoken flatly, makes you forget your awkwardness and look back at him again sharply, mouth slightly agape. A moment passes while you stare at him blankly… then two… then a small impish smile settles on your face.

“Yeah? Did you suffocate him with a balloon animal?”

“I hit him in the back of the skull with a heavy statue from his mantle,” Moon says in the same matter-of-fact tone. You’re slightly taken aback again, but then he continues steadily “And when he woke up, I smashed his knees with a bat so he couldn’t run away.”

“Ah, the ol’ Tonya Harding. Classic,” you deadpan.

Moon’s face suddenly dips down closer to yours. His eyes have widened further in somewhat alarming glee and a slow smile was beginning to stretch his lips. You jerk slightly at the sudden closeness but stand your ground, not wanting to be the first to give into this odd game.

“And I took a knife and peeled strips off him until he begged for me to kill him… then I stuck it in his throat… and watched him choke to death on his own blood.”

“Moony, my old friend—my partner in clown, brother of bells—“ You break away from Moon’s gaze to see Sun approaching, his hands gesturing in a whirling motion in the air. “I’m SURE what you’re blathering to them about is very important—BUT, I need to pull our shining Star away so that they may attend to the prize counter. Some children inside will certainly be wanting to exchange their hard-won tickets for treasures very soon—mhm!” He finishes with a hearty confident nod.

“Sun was there. It was his knife.” Moon breathes, close to your ear, then he leans back from his hunched position over you and you find you can finally take a full breath.

Sun’s jester shoes stop-short mid-step with a violent jingle and a harsh scrap. His gesturing halts and his expression freezes in a wide but strained smile. He hums a nervous, sort of giggly noise of confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Sun asks through his teeth, head tilting at a sharp angle.

“Moon was just telling me about what you guys do in your free time. You didn’t tell me you guys were suppose to be dressed as the Killer Klowns from Down the Street. I don’t even see any blood on your costume, Sun.” This actually earns you a low devious chuckle from Moon, which makes you feel an embarrassing bloom of pride. Sun doesn’t seem to find it so funny.

His eyes flick to Moon, to you, to Moon, and then back to you, and then Moon again… and then again back to you. His smile doesn’t drop.

“Ah yes… well, you know how hard even fake blood can be to get out of clothes.” Sun says in a constrained, somewhat aloof tone. He’s staring at Moon again with a strangely pointed look in his eye. “Wouldn’t want to scare anybody with stains like that after the holiday, now would we? They’d think we were a couple of lunatics.”

“You guys are kind of nuts though, you know.” You state. This draws both their gazes to fix on you again. “You bought this place didn’t you? With its history and everything.” You stick a thumb back in the direction of the arcade. “Pretty crazy. But you turned it into a cool place.” A smile lights your face at a feeling of genuine appreciation for your current situation in life. Sure, your showers were mostly cold water and your car was probably gonna fall apart on the drive home, but you had a pretty cool job with two people whom you now considered to be more your friends than bosses.

“Aight, I’m gonna head inside now.” You pivot with a wave and turn away from Sun and Moon, feeling the heavy weight of their twin gazes on the back of your neck. The sky is now nearly black, cold, distant stars glinting. A gust of wind picks up and sends fog swirling around your legs as you enter the arcade. The air, pleasantly cool only an hour ago, now bites chillily at your exposed face and throat.

🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾 🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾

Okay that’s all folks :D This was what I was working on most of the week. I started the first paragraph and was like “this is really hard!” then skipped to halfway through to some dialogue I knew I wanted. It’s hard to find the most efficient words to describe the scene and characters.

I’m happy with it! but I feel like it might read a bit stiff? Maybe you can tell I’ve read and watched too much historical fiction. Worry sometimes I come across a bit stuffy or old fashion-sounding.

Idk idk like I said at the beginning, it’s been a very long time since I’ve written any prose. Hope you liked it~ most probably definitely will do more, it just takes a lot of time and thought.

Please leave me your thoughts~~

[mera-mera-simp]

OP Character's Love Languages

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Ussop, Ace and Law

Content Warning: fluff. Some angst (Sanji, Ace and Law)

Pt. 2

Luffy:

Absolutely physical touch. There is no debate on this.

He can and will cling to you with no hesitation. Man doesn't know personal space<3

But you and most of the Strawhats don't mind it. It's sweet.

Though you do have to gently remind him sometimes that not everybody he knows likes it when he does that</3

Definitely a words of affirmation kinda guy too.

This one isn't as often but he loves making you smile.

Constantly telling you how funny you are and how much he loves you. He is a sweet baby even if he's a menace sometimes<3

Sometimes, you'll get a combo of the two. He'll wrap his arms around a multitude of times and tell you all kinds of sweet things just to see you smile.

Gift. Giving.

Please give this sweet baby gifts it will make his eyes light up like stars and he'll treasure it forever.

You could get him the silliest thing and he'll be so happy. You'll have his stretchy arms wrapped around you and multiple kisses on your face while he's yelling 'thank you' multiple times within an instant.

Zoro:

Quality time.

He's not much of a touchy guy and he's not the greatest with words.

But he actively seeks you out on the Sunny. He just wants to be by you<3

He's not great at words, so just being by you is enough for him

He will make you take naps with him<3

He likes to sit by you when he's cleaning his swords.

Please just chill with him while he trains. He likes being in your presence.

This goes both ways low-key. He knows that you love him so he doesn't need to be reminded. And as mentioned earlier, he's not really a touchy feely guy.

So just spending time with you is enough.

Bro loves you so much, he'll chill by you while you're talking to the other strawhats. He doesn't need to involved in the conversation. He'll just sit by you (he'll take a nap depending on where you are on the ship)

Maybe a small bit of gift giving?

Only if he finds it useful though probably.

Get him stuff to clean his swords with and he'll be happy.

Send him over the moon with alcohol.

But definitely quality time for the most part.

Dude just wants to be by you<3

Sanji:

Is it absurd to say that it's everything? (Because I feel like it is but thats cause I'm in love with him and delulu)

He'll match to whatever your love language is babes<3

Gift giving? He'll spoil you

Quality time? Just hang out with him in the kitchen while he cooks

Words of affirmation? He'll tell you a thousand times a day that he loves you

Acts of service? Say the word and your wish is his command.

Physical touch? He'll be all over you.

He'll match your energy.

Sometimes you'll get the buy 1 get 4 free combo.

He bends over backwards for you.

And it's all super sweet. He'll cook for you, buy you some cute trinkets that you like, spend time with you while you're doing something, tell you all kinds of romantic things, and he'll hold your hand at all times

Bro is such a sweet guy<3

Please tell him that you love him. Reassure him for the love of god

He didn't get it a lot as a kid after Sola died so whenever you do, he really appreciates it <3 (Sanji my sad chef, my beloved I love him so much)

Nami:

Look me in the eye and tell me that her loves languages aren't gift giving and acts of service.

She'll be over the moon if you buy her stuff

Specially if it's expensive <3

Bake something for her, Sanji will help you if you ask him to!

She'll give you a bunch of kisses for it. It's her way of say thank you.

You're the only one who doesn't owe her a single berri. Cause why would she charge the love of her life?

She gets a little jealous super easily though. She'll pout at you. Just laugh at her and tell her she's cute. Kiss her cheek, forehead or tip of her nose if you want to make her melt.

Sometimes she'll indulge in physical touch, only for you though.

She'll hold your hand when strolling through a town on a new island. And then persuade you to buy something she likes by acting cute.

She's super appreciative if you do though

She'll hug you and kiss you with a big grin on her face

It makes her feel important

She likes to make you feel important too. She'll actually go out of her way to buy you stuff sometimes. She teases about an interest fee but if you actually try to pay it, it's the only time she refuses

Ussop:

Words of affirmation

My guy needs a lot of reassurance so he appreciates it

Tell him that he's brave and he'll be absolutely smitten

He also likes physical touch

He'll hold you as he tells his stories

Talk to him about the world. You both love being out on the Grandline and seeing how big the world is. It's one your 'late night can't sleep' topics.

Hangout on the deck of the Sunny and look at stars together. He'll hold your hand and point out the constellations to you. (He learned them from Robin, he just wants to impress you<3)

If you hug him from behind randomly, he'll swoon.

He'll let you stay like that too. He thinks it's sweet. He'll just casually talk to you about his day so far.

He's constantly telling you how much he loves you.

You make him feel strong and brave so of course he's going to return the favor.

Overall, Ussop is just a sweet guy. He likes holding your hand and making you smile<3

Ace:

Oh my beloved sad himbo

Please hold him and reassure him.

He's definitely a physical touch and words of affirmation kinda guy too.

Trace the freckles on his face (he'll melt in your arms with a blushing face if you call them mini constellations<3)

He likes to hold you yeah but please hold him. He needs it.

He likes to be in your embrace but he'll only let you do it when you guys aren't in sight of the crew, he's afraid that Marco and Thatch will tease him for a life time. (They wouldn't)

Pepper his face in kisses

This poor cowboy is so sad please tell him all of the things you love about him

Tell him he's worth everything in the world (Ace was the One Piece</3\hj)

Whisper sweet nothings to him as you guys try to fall asleep at night, that's when his head tries to attack him the most.

He appreciates it all and he'll definitely return the favor.

He constantly has you wrapped in his arms.

He'll kiss the top of your head and nuzzle his face into your hair.

He'll purposely act stupid just to see you laugh.

Please just make him happy. He is so sad

He will deny though.

"Me? Sad? Blasphemy."

Law:

Another quality time kinda guy

He doesn't like physical touch

Or words of affirmation

Please don't openly say you love him or promise him anything, the last person who did both those things died almost immediately after (he's traumatized </3)

Just spend some time with him, that's all he asks. You don't have to say anything he just wants to he by you.

He doesn't know how to accept gifts so that's also kinda out of the question

If you do something for him though, he'll be appreciative. In his own way

Just quality time for the most part.

Just sit by him while he reads or looks over some notes he has.

He's comforted by your presence, you make him happy even if he never outwardly shows it

[smileskids]

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[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Summary: Grandma's funeral brings out a side of Ms. Sweetheart that Eddie hasn't ever seen, leaving the two of them questioning everything they've built up together.

Warnings: funeral service (I tried to keep it as neutral as possible so it could apply to any religion), mentions of cause of Grandma's death, failed attempt at sex, pretty much all angst sorry

WC: 5.1k

Chapter 10/20

Divider credit to @saradika Harris's note credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers

Eddie can’t remember the last time he went to a funeral. It might’ve been for one of Wayne’s friends, or a distant great-aunt twice removed. He doesn’t even own a proper suit for such an occasion; everything he’s wearing actually belongs to Wayne. He smooths down the creases in his black slacks; the material of anything other than worn denim is foreign against his legs. The elbows of his coat jacket are patched, and he slides his palms over them in embarrassment.

He takes a seat in one of the back rows, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible while the other mourners file in. There’s a pit growing in his stomach as his gaze swoops to the coffin resting at the front of the room. The realization that Grandma was inside was almost too much for him to handle, and he’d only met her a month ago. He hadn’t known her when she was…herself, but he saw glimpses of her now and again. The last time he was over for a Wednesday night dinner, she rested her head on his shoulder as though she’d done it a million times. You’d mouthed sorry, but Eddie had simply smiled and let Grandma stay there as long as she wanted. If he was being honest, he felt special, knowing that she was comfortable with him.

Eddie’s eyes are only drawn from the casket when he sees you walk among your family. He immediately takes note of your face, normally soft and vibrant, now stoic and emotionless. It’s a sharp contrast to your relatives, who wear their grief through bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The hymn playing in the background fades out as a man speaks up at the podium. 

Eddie’s barely listening, keeping his attention on you. He watches your mouth move as you recite the prayers along with the rest of your family, though he’s only half-listening to them. He’s never been one for organized religion, but he echoes the closing statement when everyone else does. 

That’s when you stand up, smoothing down your dress at the back of your thighs, and walk towards the front of the room. You’re clutching a piece of paper in your hand, which Eddie notices is slightly trembling. He locks eyes with you, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip and offers the smallest of encouraging smiles. You acknowledge it with a tiny nod in his direction before taking a deep breath and beginning the eulogy. 

“Um, h-hi.,” you start, stumbling over your words awkwardly. You clear your throat and try again. “Thank you all for coming to honor and remember Grandma. It’s evident that she meant a lot to so many people. 

“When I was writing this eulogy, I kept thinking about who she was as a person.” You don’t let your gaze drift from Eddie’s, and you could swear that he’s the only force keeping you from crumbling to the ground in a heap of grief. “For a lot of us, we wonder what ‘big thing’ will define our lives. The occasion that people will remember us by, you know? But with Grandma, there wasn’t one ‘big thing.’ Her life was a series of little kindnesses that she made sure to sprinkle into her everyday life. Like, when I was a kid, my dad broke his ankle. My mom couldn’t leave me home alone, so Grandma drove him to and from the hospital and stayed with him while he waited. She always took care of us. 

“One of my favorite memories is how she would bring me a bouquet of flowers after every dance recital I was in. She’d be waiting for me by the stage door with a big smile on her face, telling me what a great job I did, even if I totally messed up…she was the best. All she wanted was for the people she loved to be happy. 

“And that’s what I associate with Grandma—love. How much I loved her, and how much she loved us. Just a few weeks ago, she was sharing Oreos with the kid I tutor, and it reminded me of how she used to be with me.” At that line, Eddie feels his lip quiver, tears dampening his lashes, and he ducks his head to keep you from seeing him break. This time, it’s more for your sake than his, since you’re leaning on him to remain upright. “I encourage all of you to find the little kindnesses in life, and to be the kindness in someone’s day. 

“Grandma, you are already so missed. I hope you’re seeing the values you instilled in each of us. Rest easy. We’ll take it from here.” The only sounds in the entire room are the heels of your shoes clacking on the floor and sniffling from nearly everyone else in the congregation. You take your seat quietly, bowing your head as though trying to hide.

The rest of the service is a blur of hymns and prayers; nothing, Eddie notes, nearly as moving as the eulogy you gave. He barely notices when the people around him start moving, keeping a watchful eye on you. You’re trying to blend in amongst your black-clad relatives, but Eddie has no problem finding you. He cranes his neck just in time to see your family make a right through the doors, while you pivot left. 

Instinctively, his hands tuck into his pants pocket as he fumbles for his cigarettes and lighter. He has no idea what to say to you, no idea where to even begin. He needs a smoke or three to clear his head before he sees you and stammers out some half-witted acknowledgment of your loss. There’s no time for that; however, because as soon as he steps outside, he sees you sitting on the steps. It’s freezing outside, but your arms are bare, and Eddie can see the prickle of goosebumps lining your skin.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he asks, drawing your attention as he takes a seat next to you. He shrugs off his own jacket, placing it over your shoulders without a second thought. 

You offer him a sad smile, tugging the coat so it covers more of you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until you felt the contrast of his body heat. “Trying to avoid my family,” you admit, placing your hand over Eddie’s. “Could you take me home? I got a ride here from my uncle, but I really don’t want to go out to eat with everyone.” They’re probably arguing over where to get lunch right now, acting as though their matriarch isn’t about to be lowered into the ground.

“You sure?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together in concern. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want to take you away from them or anything.” He can picture the sneers he’ll receive, a pit forming in his stomach.

You remain unfazed to the conundrum he faces. “Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor. I can’t…” your voice catches, so you restart your sentence. “I can’t sit there while everyone’s smiling and laughing. That’s what happens when an old, sick person dies; people don’t even try to hide their relief. I need…I need to be alone.” You tuck your lips inside your mouth, attempting to bury your feelings.

Eddie nods, reaching over to take his keys out of the jacket you’re now wearing. “Yeah, no, I get it. We can get outta here.” He stands up, takes your hand in his to help you to your feet, and leads you to the car as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing either of you need is to be confronted by one of your relatives.

The two of you sit in the car quietly, without even the radio on. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s had a silent car ride; he either has music playing, Harris yammering his ear off, or a combination of both. He keeps his hands at ten and two, internally debating whether or not to rest one on your knee. It wouldn’t be a sexual thing, not even close, but he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. His grip remains steady, the hum of the engine is the only sound.

You take this time to study him, taking in the crow’s feet that line the edges of his eyes, the tiny patch of stubble that he’d missed while shaving, the slight dimple in his chin. You try and turn before he can catch you, and though your efforts are fruitless, he doesn’t quite call you out on it. “Y’good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, smoothing a part of your dress that isn’t wrinkled. “Could you come inside for a little while? I thought I wanted to be by myself, but I really want you to stay.”

You really want him to stay. Not just that you need company, but you want him specifically. The notion sets all of Eddie’s nerve endings alight. “‘Course,” he replies, perhaps a bit too casually to cover up his excitement over the realization that he brings you some form of comfort.

When he pulls into the apartment complex’s parking lot and shuts off the ignition, he takes the opportunity to hold your hand again. It’s so much different than when he held it a few days earlier on your date, when there was an atmosphere of joy and hope. Now it’s like he’s pulling you along, like his lead is what has you placing one heel-clad foot in front of the other.

You unlock the door, accidentally leaving the key within its latch, and Eddie quietly removes it and places it on the table. His fingers ghost your biceps to remove your–his–coat from your body, but you just pull it on farther like a safety blanket.

“Y’want coffee? ‘M gonna put on a pot,” you offer quietly, already heading over to the kitchen. You scoop out a serving of coffee grounds for you, inhaling the hazelnut scent before dumping it into the basket, glancing over at him for his response.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he nods, and you put another scoop in before filling the carafe with tap water. With a flick of the power button, the Black + Decker rumbles and kicks on, and the drip drip drip of coffee fills the room.

You grab two mugs from the cupboard and place them on the counter. “How’d you even find out about the funeral?” 

Eddie walks over, though he feels as though he can’t get close enough. He just wants to hold you tight and never let go, but you’ve put up some sort of barrier that he can’t quite interpret. “Oh, um, I asked Byers. I hope you don’t mind–I tried calling you, but it said the line was disconnected.”

Your cheeks burn. “That was Grandma.” Eddie looks confused–rightfully so–and you elaborate. “The morning that she…she got annoyed with the phone ringing, so when I wasn’t looking, she took the scissors and cut the wire.”

Eddie’s jaw drops in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. I left the house for a few minutes to get a new phone, and when I came back, she’d fallen asleep and…” you swallow thickly, rummaging through the refrigerator for the tiny carton of half-and-half, “…and she never woke up. First call I made with the new phone was to 9-1-1, but it was too late.” Too late. That’s what the EMTs told you: I’m sorry, but it’s too late. 

“Oh, Sweetheart. My sweet girl…” Eddie’s heart lurches, and he instinctively reaches out to you. One hand lays between your shoulder blades while the other rubs up and down your spine. He’s careful not to let it drop too low, never going past the small of your back. Though you’re pressed flush to his chest, there’s still a strange disconnect between you. 

Despite every urge you have to cling to him, you pull away and shove a teaspoon into the sugar bowl, sliding it towards him on the counter. “S’okay. I mean, it’s not, but…they said she’d had a heart attack. If I didn’t get the phone, I wouldn’t have been able to call for an ambulance anyway.” The dripping of the coffee maker slows as it finishes brewing. “Only thing I could do is go back in time and stop her from cutting the wires, and Melvald’s was all outta time machines,” you joke, but it falls flat.

Eddie frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the countertop. “You don’t have to do this, y’know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Pretend like you’re alright,” he explains, voice hardly louder than a whisper. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.

You feel an anger rising within you, though you’re unable to pinpoint its origin. “I am alright,” you insist through gritted teeth.

Eddie shakes his head, peering at you through his impossibly long eyelashes. “It’s okay to be sad–”

“Don’t you get it, Eddie?” You cut him off with a snap, slamming the coffee pot down so harshly that it almost cracks. “I’m not sad. I’m not relieved. I’m not anything. My grandma just died, and I don’t feel a goddamn thing! It’s like I’m some kind of monster.”

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He hugs you again, holds you even tighter than before as he kisses the top of your head. “You’re not a monster, ‘kay? I promise you.”

You look up at him, not quite believing his words, but you press your lips to his. He kisses you back gently; timidly even, but you deepen it and graze his tongue with your own. Your left hand weaves its way through his messy curls and your right fumbles with his belt buckle, but you’re unable to unhook the clasp before he steps back.

“What’re you–” His eyes widen and he puts his hands up to avoid touching you, clearly confused by your behavior. If you had the capacity to be honest with yourself, you’d admit that you’re not sure why you’re doing this, either.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, trying to reconnect your lips with his, but he just pulls away again. “Please, I…I need this. I need you.”

“If we sleep together for the first time right now, while you’re like this, you’ll regret it,” he says.

You don’t deny the accusation; instead, you double down on it. “Okay, so I’ll regret it! I’ll feel regret, but at least I’ll feel something!” Your trembling fingers brush against his shirt, trying to grab onto it and bring his body to you, but he turns with a scoff.

“You’d really be okay with that?” There’s unmistakeable anger in his tone, but it’s laced with something more than that; something that sounds more like hurt. “Regretting our first time together?”

“Didn’t we almost fuck on your couch the night we met? You didn’t even know my last name. You barely knew my first name.” Your words are biting, thick with malice. “When did you become so averse to meaningless sex?”

“Meaningless?” Eddie balks, digging his fingernails into his palms until they leave crescent-shaped marks. His lips contort into a perplexed grimace as he formulates a response. “I, um, I gotta go. I’ll call you–”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before, and I’m not falling for it again.” You can’t stop the words before they’re tumbling from your mouth, and you can’t take them back. “Shit, Eddie–”

“Just—don’t say anything else, ‘kay? I’m leaving.” He turns around, digging into his back pocket. “This is for you. From me and Harris.” He tosses a piece of notebook paper, folded into fourths, onto the end table and closes the door with a slam.

You stand there, dumbfounded at what just occurred–mostly at your own actions. When you move towards the paper, you realize that you’re still wearing Eddie’s suit jacket, and you yank it off and throw it to the ground, leaving it in a heap. You open the note and read, vision blurred from the tears threatening to spill over.

The innocent kindness of a little boy is all it takes for you to break down and cry, muffling your sobs in your palms though there isn’t anyone around to hear them. Grandma was gone. You’d chased Eddie away with the same vitriol he’d spewed at you that day at the record store. You’re really, truly alone.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you chant to no one in particular. You’re sorry to Grandma, for leaving her home alone. You could’ve asked Jess to run out and get a new phone, but you’d needed a break from Grandma’s anger that was always directed towards you. That morning, after you’d discovered the cut phone line, there had been another argument over taking her medication, and she yelled “I HATE YOU!” at the top of her lungs. Then she sat at the table and ate a bowl of cereal like nothing had happened. Instead of taking a deep breath and brushing it off, you’d grabbed your keys and headed to RadioShack. You could’ve driven there, it would’ve made the trip much faster, but you’d decided to walk. The fresh air would do you good, you told yourself, pushing away the full truth of the matter: you’d desperately needed to be away from Grandma. When you got back, she was laying on the couch, and you would’ve sworn she was only sleeping…

You’re sorry to Eddie. Sorry that he’d wasted his time with someone who resorted to dredging up the past as soon as she felt an ounce of anger and rejection. Someone who insisted that he could trust her and then promptly shattered that rapport once he’d let his guard down.

And for a split second, you allow yourself to feel sorry for you. Sorry that you couldn’t even grieve properly without feeling like you didn’t deserve it, because if you were home, Grandma might still be alive. 

You look down at the card one more time, choking out a laugh through your tears at Harris’s offer to share his grandpa. It dawns on you that you’ll either have to stop tutoring him or continue to see Eddie on a weekly basis. Everyone who comes in contact with me gets entangled in my problems, you note miserably. Eddie’s finally getting his life together and I’m fucking it all up. He deserves better than me.

Maybe it’s a good idea to leave Hawkins and go back home, at least for the holidays. You’re not sure what type of celebrations the family will muster up, but it’s better than being alone with your thoughts. And if you never return, that might be best for everybody.

The bell above the drugstore door chimes as Eddie pushes his way in. He smoked out his remaining cigarettes on the drive over, and he’s desperate for another pack. He makes a beeline for the back wall, plucking his usual Camels from the display. “Perfect,” he mutters, though his lungs would certainly disagree.

As he shuffles towards the cashier, he spots a familiar face in one of the aisles. His lurking cowardice screams at him to run away, but he shoves it deep down and talks anyway. “H-Hey, man. How’s it going?”

Jeff turns around, first bewildered at who’s speaking to him, then tensing up when he sees Eddie standing before him. “Can’t complain. Just getting some of these prenatal vitamin things for Viv,” he replies tersely, shaking the bottle to emphasize his statement.

There’s an awkward silence before Eddie speaks again. “Look, um, I’m really sorry about what happened at our last show.” He rubs the back of his neck and winces at the memory. “What I said, what I didn’t say…you’re gonna be a great dad, dude. Like, the best. I was just jealous, but that’s not an excuse to be an asshole.”

“Jealous?” Jeff cocks an eyebrow incredulously, willing Eddie to continue.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, shamefully averting his gaze. “You’re bringing a kid into a stable household, and I couldn’t do that for Harris. I don’t regret having him, of course, but I’ll always feel guilty about the shitshow he was born into.” He taps the pack of cigarettes on his palm, biting his lower lip to shut himself up. “Anyway, I gotta get home—”

“Eddie Munson?” He turns around to see a young woman standing behind him. Her low-cut top shows off the top of her breasts, cleavage pushed up by a bra, and her jeans hug every curve. She purses her pink-glossed lips together in a flirtatious smile.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I’m Lisa.” She says this like Eddie should already know this, and he’s embarrassed to admit to himself that he can’t place the name or face. “We hooked up last summer at the Hideout? In the men’s room?” Lisa lowers her voice seductively to whisper that detail. “I haven’t seen you there in a while.”

“Oh, yeah.” There have been multiple men’s room hook-ups, but he’s not about to play detective to figure out exactly who she is, so he plays along. “The band’s been on a bit of a…hiatus, I guess.” From his peripheral vision, he can see Jeff ducking his head, and his cheeks burn with the truth.

Lisa juts out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout, though Eddie knows it’s all for show. “That’s too bad.” She lets her hand rest on his chest, leaning into him and twirling a strand of his hair around a polished fingernail. “If you’re not busy tonight, I’d love to have you over for drinks and…dessert? Recreate that night at the bar, minus the urinal?”

Eddie moves her arms from his vicinity, putting a necessary space between them. “Um, n-nah. No thanks,” he clarifies. “I’m, uh, kinda involved with someone, so…”

She remains undaunted, a small chuckle escaping her throat. “I can keep a secret. She doesn’t have to know.” She takes another step forward to close the gap, and he’s so goddamn tempted, but he shakes it off. He doesn’t have a clue what’s going to happen between you and him, but he knows he’s not going to sabotage any potential relationship.

“Well, I’ll know,” he retorts, “and I’ll feel like shit about it.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Your loss.” She pivots on one heel and mumbles something under her breath that Eddie doesn’t even bother to interpret.

Jeff looks at Eddie with an amused grin as he shifts his weight from one side to the other. “So, you’re involved with someone?” He knows from what Jess has told him that Eddie went on a date with you a few days ago, but he couldn’t gauge the seriousness of the situation.

“I think so. At least, I was, until about fifteen minutes ago.” He relents and fills Jeff in about everything that happened, from your conversation over steaming coffee mugs, to the amazing kiss you’d shared as snowflakes collected on your eyelashes, to the unexpected confrontation after Grandma’s funeral today.

Jeff sighs, but it’s one of sympathy, not exasperation. “You did the right thing,” he says finally.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeff laughs, punching him playfully on the arm. “I’m serious. And you did the right thing just now, too, with that groupie.” He clears his throat. “Viv’s baby shower is in a couple weeks. Ladies only, y’know, but I could use some help loading all the gifts into the car. And we could grab some lunch beforehand, if you want.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, that would be great. Might have to let Harris tag along, if that’s all right.” He doesn’t want to keep asking Wayne to babysit, no matter how much the old man insists that he doesn’t mind.

“Of course. You know that little man is always welcome.” Jeff says, walking towards the register. “I’ll call you with the details.”

Eddie hesitates, letting his friend pass him by a few paces before he calls out. “Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“What do I do about…” Eddie trails off, unwilling to finish his sentence. He feels absolutely ridiculous having this conversation in the middle of the drugstore, but he’s desperate not to fuck this up further.

Jeff scratches at his stubble with his free hand, contemplating the options as only someone who’s been in a long-term relationship and hasn’t had to navigate the nuances of a fresh relationship in ages can. “Give her some time; a few days, at least. She’s going through a lot. She needs her space, y’know, to figure things out.”

It’s not the answer Eddie was hoping for; patience has never been his forte. He wishes that Jeff would have told him to chase after you, to go get the girl and make sure she knows how much she means to him. But he knows that his friend is right, and he acknowledges his response with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

“See ya around, Ed.”

Eddie unlocks his apartment door, new pack of cigarettes in one hand and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s tucked under the other arm. He doesn’t usually splurge on ice cream, but every romantic comedy cliche has instructed him that it’s the perfect remedy for heartbreak. If that’s even what this is, he thinks, but he knows it’s true. After doing everything in his power to prevent it, he’d allowed you to break his heart. And as he shoves a spoon into the container of Devil’s Food Chocolate, it dawns on him that he’d do it all again.

He’d come to your rescue and pick the lock of Grandma’s bedroom door. He’d sit around the table and eat pizza with you, Harris, and Grandma every Wednesday night. He’d drive to your house with store-brand cookies and watch cheesy Thanksgiving movies with you just to see the smile on your face. He’d take you out for coffee and kiss you in the snow a thousand times over. And he’d go to Grandma’s funeral and drive you home and turn down your offer for sex and break his own fucking heart again and again if it meant protecting you.

He shimmies out of his starchy dress pants and unbuttons his shirt, leaving himself in just a white undershirt and his boxers as he sinks deeper into the sofa. He reaches over for the remote–now that he works when Harris is in school, he rarely has time to watch something that he actually enjoys–and notices the phone’s red flashing light indicating that he has a new voicemail.

He presses play with a clumsy finger on the button, expecting Wayne’s gruff voice or a reminder for an overdue bill. When he hears that it’s you, he sits up straight, nearly dropping his ice cream.

“Hi, Eddie. It’s me. I’m so sorry for what happened earlier. I’m sure you’re probably mad, but I just want you to know…it wouldn’t have been meaningless. It wasn’t meaningless the night we met when it was supposed to be meaningless.” You take a deep breath. “I’m going back home for the holidays. Um, I’m not sure when…if…I’m coming back, but before I leave, I had to apologize for what I said. You’re a great guy, Eddie. I hope you know that. Have, um, have a nice holiday. Okay, bye.”

Eddie remains still, a loud silence enveloping the room once the machine relays that he’s reached the end of new messages. He’s dissecting every word you’d uttered, replaying them over and over. 

It wasn’t meaningless the night we met when it was supposed to be meaningless. 

So you’d felt it, too; that spark much stronger than the usual lust that overcomes him during hookups. And while he’d tried to convince himself that he’d only asked you to cuddle, had you stay over out of post-sex, post-show delirium, he can’t deny the truth any longer.

He’d asked because he felt comfortable around you, like he could hold you forever and whisper secrets that scare him to even admit to himself. Maybe it was because you’d seen Harris’s car seat that night and hadn’t run for the hills, or maybe it was the way you’d kissed him like he was worth savoring. And the morning after, when he’d all but chased you out of the apartment…Christ, you didn’t deserve that.

I’m not sure when…if…I’m coming back. 

The ‘when’ he could handle, but that ‘if’ was a weight on his chest. He questions his actions for a moment–should he have slept with you? Showed you how wanted and cherished and safe you were with him? Given your mind a chance to wander from the grief choking it? But Jeff said he had done the right thing, and considering the man was engaged with a baby on the way, Eddie figured he had to know something about women.

You’re a great guy, Eddie. I hope you know that.

Is he? He’s certainly a better man than when you’d first met him, but is he actually a great guy? He’d bought you coffee and didn’t fuck you when you were too vulnerable to truly consent–is that what constitutes greatness, or is he just a step above a piece of shit?

And, of course, part of him is angry. Not only because you were so easily willing to use him–although that realization definitely stings–but mostly because you’d thought he’d want to. After everything you two had been through, did you truly believe that he’d be unbothered? That he’d throw away all of that progress just to get his dick wet? Is that how little you think of him? Eddie doesn’t want the answer.  

The ice cream is melting, so he forgoes the spoon and just takes a swig from the pint. He licks the chocolatey residue from his lips before standing up to put the carton in the freezer. Tacked onto the refrigerator is Harris’s picture from Halloween where Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart are holding hands.

He plucks it from under the magnet, staring at it intently. The memory of his son and his uncle asking him about you, that pretty like a princess remark, the unfurling realization that he felt things for you that he’d thought he was incapable of feeling. He never should have taken their ribbings, inadvertently getting his hopes up that there was something there worth pursuing.

Without thinking, Eddie crumples the paper in his fist, crushing the family portrait into a ball. “Shit,” he mutters, placing it on the table and smoothing it out as best as he can. His hands glide over the drawing, rubbing over every crease until it looks good as new and Harris will be none the wiser.

But Eddie knows what’s been destroyed. What he doesn’t know is whether or not it can be smoothed out.

--

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[christinebloodwrittings]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Reader and Alastor are about to get married, but the day before their wedding, Alastor mysteriously disappears. On their bed lays a note: “I’m sorry, I had to leave.”?

Heart in debt

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: "Until death do us apart" turned into a "Until I see you again in hell", when Alastor, for unknown reasons, decided to become a runaway groom. Warnings: Gore, bit of angst.

Sorry for the delay dearest, this work took 4 drafts and a lot of re-write, I hope the result is to your liking :3.

The venue was reserved in advance, your mother had chosen the perfect location for you. The catering service was already paid for, as was the florist, band and cake.

Everything was ready.

Looking back, as you finished getting ready for bed, with your nerves on edge, you remembered how your parents reacted when you told them you were getting married.

The best couple ever, welcomed your fiancé, Alastor, as if they had recognized the plague made person. The permanent smile, the aura of death, and well, something they saw in him made them act defensively.

However, of course, your father loved you more than anything in life, so since the ring was of high quality, he had a house on his name, he could provide for you and assure you a future with children, he had no choice but to swallow his opinions and daydream the day when you say he can shoot his brains out.

It was distasteful to you that your father wanted to kill your fiancé, but you knew he loved you and as long as he was with you, Alastor would be fine.

And he was waiting in bed, with his glasses on the edge of his nose, busy with a book. "Excuse me, madam, but if you hold the rifle like that, you will hurt yourself due to the force of the recoil" you remembered your first interaction, his voice was as soft as silk, manners polished up to perfection.

“Then, what would you say is the best way?”  you suspected he was going to say something mannish and arrogant, most man didn’t believed women could do nothing except cooking and breed children, judging by the eat shitting grin he was wearing, you were expecting the worst sexist comment.

Instead he asked your permission to help you, after you said yes, he gently moved your arms upwards to accommodate your position, then gently pulled sideways your hips, “Your support leg must be straight and tight, strong, otherwise you will fall back” then a rustle in the bushes alerted both of you, a white back deer.

“You can do it, aim” he encouraged you, watching the majestic prongs of the deer appear at the distance, “Breathe, don’t rush” his breath on your ear sent a shiver up your spine, “Now!” he spoke, you pulled the trigger, he held you during the push back, that kind of rifle was far too intense, even for him, but it had the enough power to kill the animal just fine.

“Do I have something on my face, dear?” he noticed your stare, smiling softly. You walked to him, pecking his cheek softly, “Now there is” he chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand, then he opened his arms to you, which were soon filled with your figure.

"I can't wait for us to be one" you snuggled against his chest, "Me neither, dearest" he pulled you closer, your hair ticking his nose. "At this hour tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Hartfield, I wish your mother were here to enjoy with us" his mom had passes away when he was a kid, but since your mother was friends with her, you got faint memories of the sweet woman that had raised your soon-to-be husband.

"She probably would have made a joyride out of the planning" his sarcasm got you giggling, "You're so mean" He kissed your temple, enjoying your laughter, "Rather honest, darling".

Nothing could go wrong at the moment, you were in cloud nine, until you woke up and noticed Alastor was gone. It was weird, usually he wouldn't move out of bed until you did. 

“My love, I'm sorry, I  had to leave. I realized I'm not ready. I'll be sending you money to compensate for the expenses. I'm sorry” Signed with his name, his calligraphy on a piece of paper next to his spot.

"Mamma?" You held the telephone life for dear life, barely holding on, "Did something happened my dear? You sound distressed" yes you were, also were under every type of weather, "He left, he left me a letter, and his clothes are gone" You chocked out on your words, tears falling onto your nightgown.

"Like full closet gone?" At her question you yelled back that he was gone, your heart shattered when you took notice that he even took his radio with him.

"I'll be there in just a moment; I'll make some calls okay?" She reassured you, "What happened?" You father spoke in the background, "Alastor left your daughter on her wedding day" Your mother tried to as delicate as she could, "Bastard! Don't worry baby, if he decides to come back, he's good as dead" he made the click of his shotgun sound against the phone, "I knew that son of a bitch was no good for my princess" he shouted.

"Maybe I did something wrong" you sobbed, "No sweetie, how can you think that? The lad wasn't ready, is no one's fault" Your mother tried to reassured you, but truth to be told, nothing could console you at that moment.

You refused to abandon his house, it was briefly yours before he went away, but the real reason was, that you still had some hope he would at some point come back. When he never did, you abandoned the house to live with your parents.

One night, returning late from your make up job at the speakeasy, you felt a rush, a cold feeling up your spine. Looking into the glass on the other side of the street, you caught the sight of a man, walking fast behind you.

Speeding up the pace, you ventured yourself into the swamp, the bayou. You knew Alastor had a hunting shed where you could at least arm yourself, you only had to run faster. Your heels at one point buried themselves in the mud, you had to continue on foot, a plus point since despite the stones and thorns on the way, you managed to reach the place.

You heard the paces even nearer, in a hurry you forced the lock to break, then took a rifle off the table inside, put three bullets in the chamber, then when the silhouette of your stalker opened up the door, he saw the end of the cannon pointing straight at his head.

“Turn back, leave!” your voice echoed through the trees, the wind eating up your voice quickly, “I will not repeat myself” you threatened, pulling the safety mechanism, “Poor little doll, you think you’re capable to-“ shakily, you fired, he was taken aback, nearly fallen to the ground.

“YOU WHORE!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Leave, now” the rush that firing him gave you, was a sensation you couldn’t describe. It sent a shock of pleasure down your spine, you liked that feeling, even more so, when the one scared now, was him.

“Human scum” you aimed at his head, “See you in hell” his eyes took a less sharp look, his rage turned into fear, then absolute nothingness wrapped in blood.

Karma was a very ironic lady, when you pulled the man’s body to the lake, you tripped on an underwater root, your body barely above water caught the attention of a beast, and sooner than later, you were devoured by an alligator.

One man, one bloodlust rush sent you to hell.

A hundred years or so, after that incident, after surviving another extermination, hidden in a box in the closet. You felt a presence, something following you, you turned a corner, gun in hand, prepared to defend yourself if necessary.

When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the building, a shadow peeked its face towards you, the smile he was wearing was an amused one, especially when he saw you pointing the gun at him.

A slight unusual sound, seemingly a laugh, followed by its hand taking yours, only to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Rather dashing, are you not?” your fear was not yet dissipated, but it was so gentle, offering its arm to walk you down the street.

“I’ve been eager to salute you, though I must say, you are rather hard to find” his voice was merely a whisper, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” he stopped in his tracks, “My most sincere apologies, but I don’t own a name, I’m simply a reflection, a shadow of a man” it seemed sad, yet conscious of its existence.

“Does this man, who’s footsteps you should be following, knows me?” he nodded in response, following by a quiet “He does”. You thought back how many men you have consorted with, who might have access or knowledge of umbrakinesis, none came to your mind.

“Am I to be afraid of his intentions?” as any other man you have encountered, you’ve never been able to shake the fear, always having to have a gun attached to your waist, “He has none, he thinks he has hurt you enough, with his sudden absence” he had been prohibited to utter the incident, but he found a way to do so anyways without actually saying ‘Alastor left you, and it pains him every day’.

“Alastor” his name fell off your lips like hasn’t done before, in quite a while, “Will he agree to see me?” you asked, wanting at least an explanation, “He’s not the man you remember” the shadow warned, but you were persistent, “I’d like to see him, if he has a moment he can gift me”.

His nonexistent heart shook in his chest, “I’ll see what I can do” that sentence alone brought you more hope than anything in the world, “Can you do me one more favor? I’ll see that you get compensated” now in your home, you took paper and pen, at the same time that you took a tiny bag off one of your drawers.

“This are three pure gold coins, Spanish ones, Cortéz brought this ones himself” you placed the bag on its hand, “I hope you accept this as payment, to pass him a letter?” he nodded watching you take your quill and start writing to him.

When you were done, you melted a bit of candle wax, sealing your heart in that page, then he left with the letter.

“My dearest friend.

How the time has treated us, I hope will never know. If there was a god up there I shall thank him, for it brought you back to me somehow, however subtle presence that is.

Have you seen the changes? Are you still pursuing your ambitions? How have you been all these years? Many questions flooded my mind, as soon as your name was brought to me for the first time in a century.

If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to see you, an hour is all I desire.”

I’ll await your answer, in whichever mean you see fit.

While reading the letter, Alastor made a pause, his eyes burning with the old feeling, the same crushing one he was hunted by ever since he left under the mantle of the night.   

“I am not mad at you, I just wish for clearance, closure.

Happy to make your acquaintance whenever you’d like.

Sincerely, Y/n.”

“Take the package with you, and make sure she’s safe” he ordered his shadow, who flew a couple days later to your doorstep.

A box, laced with a red ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a radio inside, engraved with flowers and birds in the most exquisite wood that hell could offer. On top of it, there was a note that read “Play me”.

You sat by the fireplace, leaving the radio on the tea table, your shadow friend taking seat beside you while you push the button that was marked.

“One, two, three, testing? Can you hear me, my dear?” his voice was slightly different, there was a lot of static, but you wondered if that was his or the radio’s. “Yes, I can” yours was a melody he had yearn to be blessed with for years, “Wonderful, I had received your letter” your stomach was in tangles, awaiting his thoughts.

 “I do wish to see you, but I have something to tell you first, that may be quite daunting” your breath was caught in your throat, “Go on” you inquired, “The reason why I couldn’t marry you is due my activities in the woods, I am a killer and a cannibal, bringing pain to others grant me pleasure like no other” he laid the truth as plain as it could be, giving that he couldn’t see your eyes directly.

“Oh thank god” he was taken aback by your giggly sigh, “I thought you a…you know, someone that fancy other men” he laughed as well, he found the assumption ridiculous, also he thought strange that you’re so unfazed by his confession.

“You are glad?” you took a moment to find an answer without sounding like you’ve gone mad, “Alastor, are you a man that stalk women down to alleys to feast on their screams?” he answered a firm no to your question, “Are you a man that defiles other women?” another no.

“Do you enjoy killing the scoundrels you hated so much, bullies, the ones that take advantage of the ones with fairer means?” he took a second to pridefully answer “Yes”, you took the shadow’s hand as if it was his, “Then your mother and I can rest in peace, as cruel as you may be Alastor, you still hold your morals high, I cannot say the same regarding your honor” he laughed at the mention of the latter.    

“Did the cat caught your tongue?” he had fell silent for a minute, “No, I haven’t been at a loss of words in a while, is all” the shadow nuzzled against your hand, moving it so it could cup his cheek, “Can I pay you a penny for your thoughts? I think I might be saying it wrong; the young ones say it a lot” you giggled, adding to the ache in his heart.

“I didn’t expect you to be alright with it, it leads me to wonder, why are you down here?” you decided to be just as honest as he was, “I killed a man that had ill intentions towards me, and I liked it a little too much” his smile grew devilishly.

“Did he suffer?” if not, he was going to hunt him to grant the man a second demise, one he would ensure he would regret choosing you as his target. “The fear in his eyes, brought a smile to my face” oh he could not be more in love, he made a wise decision to send the radio, if he had you in front of him, he would’ve devour you entirely.

“How did you died?” he made a silent pray, with some hope that at least your death would not have been painful, “I was alligator food in the bayou, in an attempt to get rid of the body, September 4th, 1929” oh how that fact made a twist in his stomach, just like himself, you were eaten alive.

“I am sorry” you laughed, “For what? Your shed was the most convenient, I killed him with your hunting rifle, like you taught me” he remembered, it was the first time he felt actual pleasure in someone else’s warmth, “I can now stop regretting introducing you to the art of the hunt” the shadow placed a kiss on your temple, “Very much so”.

He felt your skin on his lips from within the connection with the sentient, “Will you join me tomorrow, for tea? I’m helping to rise a hotel with hell’s princess” oh so that’s where he was hiding around, you thought, “Fancy, I must be the one warning you now, I do not look…pleasant, I died in a swamp so I wear that fact in the form of my skin” you admitted.

Water nymphs were pretty, you were somewhat that, only more inclined to an eel. You had a long thin fin for hair, red-yellow spotty skin, sharp teeth, light brown scales covering your hips and torso, not to mention your clear blue eyes, not a choice of color but rather a blind looking hue, much like an eel.  

“Mon coeur, rest assure, I am more concerned of your reaction towards myself” he was to the limit of nearly arranging an emergency visit to Rosie’s for a new wardrobe, “I cannot wait to see you” until you spoke that lovely sentence, “Nor can I, my dear”.

The next day, without a wink of sleep, Alastor creeped behind the princes, after making the many preparations up in his personal bayou. “Charlie, I have a request” he purred, attempting to mask his excitement, “Sure Al, what is it?” the question pinched a curious itch in the princess, “Yeah, you rarely ask for things” added the fallen exterminator.

“I’ll have a guest today, one that I hold in high regards, so I’ll be excused to my room” excitement also brew in the princess itch, “Sure thing Al, no worries” she cheerly smiled at him. It seemed the fact he had company also touched the spider’s curiosity, or rather, surprise.

“Smiles got a date?” he looked in quite shock towards the feline bartender, who could do nothing more than scoff, “That’s impossible, it must be another soul he wants to own” he soon swallowed his own words given that Alastor materialized next to him, “Husker! Your best whiskey please” the way he utter the name of the former overlord was a warning laced with a threat.

Later that afternoon, a knock made Charlie sprint towards the door, outrunning Niffty. “Hello, I’m Y/n, lovely  to meet you, I’m here to see Alastor” you courtesy at the sight of the princess of hell, “Of course, come, come” who eagerly took your hand and pulled you inside, “He’ll be down in a minute”.

She had you sat in the lobby, with the company of Angel and Vaggie, “Sorry if I’m too curious, but how do you know Alastor?” Charlie began the small talk, ever so politely, “If he’s as mysterious as he was in life, your curiosity is well within your right, he’s a dearest friend of mine” the princess was impressed to know her host had more friends than that sleazy woman, Mimzy.

“Aww, how nice!” she also told you that there was no need for any more manners towards her, though you insisted giving the way you were taught ever since you were a child.

“Y/n” your name rolled off his tongue like the beginning of a poem, “Alastor” you turned your head around, before standing up, watching closely as he would not break eye contact with you, as he made his way around the couch.  

“Now those two were not just friends” Vaggie had a sly smile on her face, “That sexual tension is delicious” Angel added watching just how slowly Alastor brought your hand up to lay a kiss on your fingers. Your chest rising noticeably from your tight corset, the excitement was palpable indeed.

“Well if I must atone to the intrigue, she was my fiancé” an audible gasp filled the room, “Now, if you’ll excuse us” since never let go of your hand, he was able to swiftly place it on his forearm as he guided you to the stairs, “Princess, bye friends” you curtsied as you followed him along.  

He had arranged a white set of garden table and chairs, an ensemble of various sweets and meat treats displayed, along with a set of cups and plates in a remarkable shade of blue.

“Oh, Alastor this is exquisite! You shouldn’t have” you knew the meat was for him, he was never a fan of sweets, but you were, “Of course I had, please have a seat” he pulled your seat for you, pushing it ever so gently when you were already seated.

“Always so gallant” pride rose to his face in the form of a subtle rose color, he managed to hide it when his shadow came from a corner to give you a hug, “Oh hello you, he’s so cute, how come he doesn’t have a name?” if you didn’t knew better you would’ve thought that Alastor had gone green from envy, seeing his shadow receive more pets and attention than himself.

“It didn’t cross my mind, he wants you to do so” he sat in front of you as his tone grew bitter, “Alistair would be repetitive, I think William is the best bet” it intoned a purr, your hands caressing the base of its ears, “He likes it”.

He took the time you were distracted to prepare your cup of tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and mint leaves, that gesture brought your attention back to him, “You remember how I like my tea?” he had done that almost as a reflex, “Somethings never leave the mind” he admitted almost impressed with himself.

“You don’t look half as bad as your warning” you scoffed at his confession, “Don’t lie” you rolled your eyes earning a laugh from him, “I’m not”, but even with his sincerity you were conscious of your appearance, “Alastor, I’m part fish, I have scales, for crying out loud” from across the table he took your hand in his, “And I’m a deer, so? Could be worse” he had a point, you had seen the dreadful appearance of some rat demons, “Uhm, maybe you’re right”.

“Why did you leave?” after a long silence, accompanied by the sounds of the bayou, you decided to break the peace, addressing the ‘elephant in the room’. “I was afraid I would hurt you; you knew my step-father and now, my affairs” you were aware he had been raised by the end of a whip due to the monster his mother married, who you briefly met when your mother had tea with his.

“Alastor, you could never” he may be a killer, but you were certain he would never raise a hand to harm you, “You don’t know that, I am this, Y/n” it was your turn to give him a reassuring squeeze to his hand, “Did you loved me?” his eyes, quite more honest than the permanent smile he wore, widen to your question.

“I would’ve done anything to prevent harm from coming your way” you scoffed, “Yes, but did you loved me?” he let go of a breath he had trapped down in his lungs when he finally admitted the truth: “I still do”, but there was more to it, “I feel as…as if I had a debt to you, one I have no idea how to repay, nothing I think is enough” and indeed he had a mental list, burning hell to the ground was the top one choice.

“Is your hand one of the options? Your heart, perhaps?” the wish to wipe his head on the pavement had vanished a long time ago, forgiveness was perhaps the toughest thing to accomplish, but your pride wasn’t that big.

“Is not enough” he shook his head, believing that his heart was either too small or nonexistent, “It would, with time, you do owe me a century” you didn’t wanted to let go of his hand, it was the first long contact from him on years, “I’m…not worthy of you” he tortured himself ten times more than hell already did, but you just shrugged, “Who is then, if it’s not you?”.

“You didn’t marry anyone after I left?” you certainly didn’t, “No” he had imagine you at least could love someone again, be happy, “Why?” but you held him in your heart until the very day you died,  “Silly hope” that broke him, if he had a choice, his smile would’ve fade in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry” he pulled gently of your hand, leading to sit across his lap, “Water under the bridge” he delight himself in your hand caressing his cheek, lightly, almost asking for permission, when unknowingly he was yours.

“Not for me” he pressed his ears to the back of his head, allowing you to caress him, as his arms hugged your figure close to his chest. “We have eternity, if you’ll have me” he was so glad you mentioned that option, it gave him the opportunity to pull from his pocket a beautiful diamond ring, rose gold.

“Your mother’s ring?” you were in shock at the same time as excited, yet scared as well, “Will you leave again?” he cupped your cheek, placing a kiss near the corner of your mouth, “Hell will freeze over first” you imitated his gesture, “Then, you can ask” his smile softened.

“Y/n, will you marry me?” just as he slipped the ring on your finger, you whispered in his ear, “I’ll have your head if you leave again, yes” sending a shiver down his spine, “Please do” a kiss sealed the engagement just like the first time he had ask.  

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters as Parents

As requested by anon. :)

If Cosmere characters who aren't currently parents (or who never got that chance) were parents, what would they be like?

1. Adolin

LOVES playing dress-up

Small child: And YOU'RE my servant, Radiant Princess Assassin Duelist! Adolin [solemnly wearing a princess hat and armor, carrying a large wooden sword]: I am at your service, Your Highness.

2. Siri

I'm seeing: Midnight Family Picnics.

Siri: Whose ready for Midnight Family Picnic?? Both kids: [cheering] Siri: Tonight we have a lovely assortment of sweet treats, assorted nuts for salt, and of course a Surprise Stew that the cook whipped up! Siri: Let's set up the tent, and we can get eating!!

3. Kaladin

Wants to support his kid in everything...but may be slightly overprotective

Small child: Dad, Dad look! I climb ALL the way to top! Kaladin: Wow! Great job!! Syl: Wow! I'm surprised you're letting him climb a rock that tall! Kaladin: Well, you know. It's good for a kid to get to explore and be fearless. Syl: ... Syl: Got him Lashed so he can't fall, huh? Kaladin: You know it.

4. Shallan

Has a little bit of trouble setting boundaries--she just doesn't want her kid to feel restricted, you know?

Teenager: See ya, Mom! Gonna go set a building on fire. Shallan: Hey, wait a second! Shallan: You got a good reason? Teenager: Yeah. Shallan: Got a plan to avoid being caught? Teenager: Of course. Shallan: Okay--have fun!! Radiant: ... Shallan: What?

5. Nikaro

As an emo guy, he of course ends up with a kid who is the opposite.

Akane: Are you wearing...a pink shirt with a heart on it? Nikaro: My daughter is obsessed with kawaii fashion. Nikaro: She wanted to style me. Akane: That also explains the sparkly eyeshadow. Nikaro: It does. Akane: ... Akane: Is your goth soul dying inside? Nikaro: Only a little.

6. Yumi

It feels inevitable that Yumi would give birth to a tiny Godzilla child.

Yumi: Look! Mommy made the stack sooooo high! Child: [shrieking with delight as they plow right into it, knocking it over] Yumi: [smile only slightly strained] A mother's love is a powerful thing.

7. Lopen

They say it takes a village, and Lopen definitely has that.

Sigzil: You know...I'm impressed by how well-rounded your kid is. Lopen: Ha ha! A Herdazian is always well-rounded--and very often round as well! Lopen: Every cousin teaches 'im something--he's learned to cook and talk quick and make friends and tell jokes and stick people to walls and all the things! Small Lopen child: [flips someone off] Lopen: He learned that from me! Sigzil: You don't say...

8. Tress

Raises her child on the high seas.

Child: [screaming a sea shanty at the top of her lungs while she swabs the deck] Ann: She getting punished for something? Tress: What? No! She just likes to sing and her favorite one is about swabbing the decks. Tress: I tried to get her interested in spores, but apparently that's not as exciting as swabbing the deck. Ann: [patting her on the back] Well, there's still plenty of time to share your incredibly dangerous hobby with your kid. Tress: Yeah, you're right!

9. Elend

Just doesn't want his kid to have a childhood like his

Elend: Wait a minute...are you reading that book after I told you that the thesis was juvenile speculation sprung from the mind of a man without two thoughts to rub together? Teenager: Yeah, what of it? I'm not gonna take your word for it! Elend: [sniffs] I-I'm so proud!

10. Vin

Just doesn't want her kid to have a childhood like hers.

Sazed: Wow so this is your baby, huh? Vin: Yup! Sazed: So....round. And happy. Vin: Yup! [The fattest, happiest baby you've ever seen gives Sazed a sleepy smile] Sazed: She's...perfect.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 7

Hello!! This story is moving right along and we finally get to the training part, I don't know anything about swimming except for what I've researched so if the coaching is wrong let me know via DMs or asks, not in the comments please!

Also! Bitchy Steve is almost as good as a Wet Steve. I don't make the rules.

Eddie does.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~

Some weekends were better than others when it came to sitting by the pool and watching his friends swim. He watch Eddie glide soundlessly through the water, like a shark sensing its prey, and wished he could get into the pool with them.

But it was just impossible not to replay the rushing water surrounding him as he sunk to the bottom of the pool. He had been told time and time again by doctors that he shouldn’t be able to remember that, as he had been unconscious when it happened.

So what if it was his imagination or whatever. The fact was he couldn’t have the water be higher than his head when both feet were planted on the floor of the pool. Yes, there were shallow ends of the pool where it was only three, four, or even five feet, but his brain kept telling him it was a lie. That the water would engulf him again and he would drown.

And this time he would die.

The fact that all that shit was irrational as hell didn’t matter. Steve figured that’s what bothered Tommy the most about it. That it was all such bullshit. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did.

That and Robin was the one to dive and save him, when Tommy had froze.

They were having a small celebration congratulating Eddie on finishing his five hundred hours of community service. His last day was on a Wednesday because of the weird amount of hours. Hopper was there, Joyce and Murray, too. Wayne. All of the friends he had made working there. Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, the kids. And of course Steve.

About half way through the party Eddie sidled up to him and bumped him with his shoulder. “You going to miss me, Harrington?”

Steve let out a laugh. “Miss getting soaked to the skin every Saturday? Not a chance in hell.”

Eddie smiled and then chewed his lip for a moment. He had been thinking about getting to use the pool every week for three months and how that was ending now. He had been thinking about how much he would miss everyone, but especially Steve.

“You’ve seen me swim for a few weeks now,” he hedged, “do you really think I’ve got a chance at the Olympics?”

Steve turned to him in shock. Eyes wide and jaw on the floor. “Fuck, Eds, given proper training I think you could outswim me.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. He remembered what his uncle had said about Steve before the accident. That ‘the greatest of all time’ was thrown around a lot. And Steve thought he could top that?

“And you’d be the one to train me?” he asked nervously. “No on else?” Because that was the other issue. He had heard horror stories about how the coaches were snobs and how they would look down at him as a charity case.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said excitedly. “Joyce was telling me about this program where the rec center will pay for all the lessons, the competitions, and even the travel expenses. Robin told me that they had something similar when she started swimming, too. Hell, even Max is thinking of doing it. So it would be me coaching you and her and you would have your own time slots and everything.”

Eddie laughed at how fast that little statement was. He could tell Steve was really excited about it. “Okay. On one condition.”

Steve cocked his head to the side as Eddie pulled out a business card out of his pocket and handed it to him.

Dr. Rhys Hughes, Psychiatrist and Licensed Therapist.

“This is a friend of mine’s dad,” Eddie explained. “He specializes in phobias. I don’t know if he can help you get back in the water, but at least you’ll be able to process what happened to you. He said he’s even willing to do it for free, so you can get the help you need.”

Steve ran his thumb over the raised print and thought about it. It was a small price to pay, he thought, to get Eddie into the Olympics. And who knows, maybe he could get back into the water with him.

He stuck out his hand for Eddie to shake. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”

The answering smile was blinding as Eddie shook his hand.

~

Steve stood with Joyce at the front of the rec center, nervously chewing on the skin around his nails.

“Stop that!” she said, smacking his hands away. “He’ll be here.”

He wished she had her confidence. Hell he wished he any confidence at all at this point. He used to have fucking swagger. But now days he was just a bundle of nerves.

“When is your first appointment with Dr. Hughes?” she asked, mostly to get his mind off the fact that Eddie was running late.

“Tomorrow after my last class,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid the temptation of chewing on his fingers.

“To be honest,” he continued, “I think I’m more worried about my appointment then I am coaching Eddie. Coaching is easy, processing my trauma? Not so much.”

She gave his arm a squeeze but before she could say anything, Eddie’s van roared into the parking lot and skidded into a close parking spot. His van stuck out among the BMW, Mercedes, and Lexus cars that were the other coaches cars. Hell, even Steve had his BMW from when he got his first gold.

Eddie leapt out of his van and dashed up to them. “Oh my god, I am so sorry, I had to drop Wayne off work because his truck wouldn’t start. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re okay, Eddie,” Joyce soothed. “We need to get the paper work for the scholarship taken care of before you get into the pool. As always, Robin will be assisting Steve, he’s gotten permission to use her.”

Eddie and Steve followed her into her office where Steve and Eddie filled out a mountain’s worth of paper work between them.

Then they handed it all to Joyce who took it from them with a smile. “Go have fun. It’s Coaches Matthews and Ford today with Hannah and Lisa.”

Steve groaned. Andrew Ford and Haley Matthews were the worst of the coaches. They were utter snobs who thought their little darlings were God’s gift to swimming, when in reality they hadn’t even medaled in a meet the whole three years they had been coaching Hannah and Lisa.

“Oh come on, now,” Joyce admonished. “They aren’t that bad. You won’t even be in the same pool. Andy and Haley will be in the pool at the far end, while you and Eddie will be in the pool next to the endless pool area. So I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Come on Eddie,” Steve said, waving him along and Eddie fell in step beside him.

“Um...” Eddie said, chewing on his bottom lip, “these coaches are going to be worse than Joyce thinks, aren’t they?”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Yeah, they are. But as she pointed out we will only see them coming and going, so that will limit our interactions.”

“So what is an endless pool?” Eddie asked as they neared the dressing rooms.

Steve grinned. “I love it. It’s basically a small pool that has currents running so it can test your strength and endurance. I use it all the time to keep up this physique!” He motioned at his his torso and Eddie’s eyes went wide.

He just nodded as Steve chuckled.

They got to the dressing rooms to see Robin surrounded by Haley, Hannah, and Lisa. Hannah was a bleached blonde with faux tanned skin and blue eyes which was the only natural thing about her. And yes that included her breasts. Lisa was a natural blonde, but her eyes were green and she had braces. Haley was the only brunette. Her long dark hair reached the middle of her back in waves, but it was pulled up into a pony tail. Her hazel eyes were cold and calculating.

Eddie hated them on sight.

They were bombarding her with questions about why she was there, was she the coach or was she being Steve’s bitch again. Shit like that.

“The only bitch here, ladies,” Steve said with a menacing grin, “is me. And I don’t take lightly to people harassing my best friend, so you better move along.”

All three girls whirled to face him.

“Steve!” Haley purred. She walked up to him and put her hand on his arm. “We were just having a friendly chat.” She chewed on her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes up at him. “There’s nothing to see here, right?”

Eddie scoffed. “Whether that works on Steve or not, it sure the hell won’t work on me. My gay ass is totally going to report you to Joyce for harassing Robin.”

Haley released Steve’s arm like she had been burned and whipped her head to face him. She took in his long hair and tattoos peaking out of his sleeves and above his collar.

“Who let the trash in?” she huffed with an arched eyebrow.

“Honey,” Steve bit back, hand on his hip. “The only trash here is you, now why don’t they three of you run along to the losers’ pool, while Eddie, Robin, and I take the winners’ pool and never the twain shall meet? Mmk?”

If Eddie was a cartoon character he would have had his jaw on the floor, tongue lulled out, and complete heart-eyes.

Fucking hell.

“Come on, girls,” Haley said coldly. “We don’t want to mix with the have-nots.”

The three girls left, chins in the air and looking down their noses at them both.

After they had left Steve rolled his eyes. “At least we missed Andy. He’s the worst.” He turned to Robin. “You okay? That looked pretty intense when we walked around the corner.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I thought they were going to devour you for sure.”

“I’m fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I wasn’t going to tell them shit, though. I hate those types of people; thinking that just because they’re rich, they must have all the talent. Especially with the fact that I made it to the Olympics and dropped out because the pressure was too great. I could outswim all of them, you wouldn’t even see them on the fucking camera. I just couldn’t take all the world’s eyes on me.”

Eddie winced. “I feel that. I’m worried about the pressure too.”

Steve put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do fine. I have a feeling you’ll be super nervous before hand and then just soak up the attention once you get out there.”

Eddie blushed and shoved his hair in front of his face.

“We’ll meet you at the endless pool after we get changed,” Steve told her.

Robin nodded and went to go open the room.

Steve and Eddie went into the men’s dressing room to get changed into their swimsuits. Eddie hit the showers first, with Steve taking a little bit longer to get into his shiny new coaching gear.

There was a man already there. He looked like a fucking Greek god. Olive skin, dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders. Immediately Eddie pegged him as the mysterious Andy Ford.

He chose the shower farthest from the guy and turned the water on hot. He was so focused getting completely wet that he didn’t hear the other shower turning off.

“So you’re the charity case,” came the oily voice suddenly next to him. “You’re not what I was expecting.”

Eddie slicked his hair back and turned off the water to face the guy. “Said everyone ever, dude. You aren’t special.”

“Do you really think you can learn anything from someone who can’t even leave the kiddie pool?” Andy asked, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Eddie said crossing his arms in front of his chest and putting all his weight on his back foot, to put distance between him and slimy. “But I don’t see your lot lining up to take his place.”

Andy raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. “You’re what? Eighteen, nineteen? You’re far too old to be training for this now. You’ll only be humiliated out there. I’m just trying to save whatever dignity you have left.”

Eddie scoffed and whipped his hair back, splashing the guy in the face. “I’ve been training since I was ten, I just had a short little break there for high school.” He patted Andy’s shoulder as walked past. “Besides just how many Olympic medals do you have?”

Steve burst out laughing behind Andy. “He’s got you there, Andy. You’ve never even been to the Olympics and neither has any of your pupils. So yeah, maybe check your ego at the door.”

He turned on the shower right where Andy was standing, causing the man to shriek and run away from the sudden water hitting him, Steve’s laugh following him out of the dressing room.

~

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

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