#You can probably see that there are problems with this...

[sceletaflores]

couldn't help it, i had to kiss the teacher!

pair: professor!logan howlett x fem!reader wc: 3.6k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, age gap (reader is mid twenties...logan is...his age), gratuitous nickname usage, public sex (classroom), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), an impromptu clitoral anatomy lesson, scent kink, hair pulling, light traces of a foot fetish (i'm literally not even sorry), nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, nat trying to sound smart, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. a/n: based off of me going to my a&p lab today and getting super bored which somehow led to thoughts about professor logan who teaches a&p…that then spiraled into this very quickly. p.s this is like a t.a!reader not a student lol

professor logan has a special way of helping you retain information...

You've been huffing and puffing for the last twenty minutes.

Logan has been blatantly ignoring you for the last twenty minutes, because that's the only way a man with enhanced hearing can ignore someone.

Blatantly.

He's been at the chalkboard since you came in a little after his last class ended, busy mapping out his lesson plan for tomorrow.

The chalk squeaks rhythmically as he writes, you tap your foot in time with it.

You're perched on top of his desk, different stacks of papers messily scattered all around you like a tornado of ungraded essays and homework assignments tore across the glossy cherry wood of it.

You glare at Logan's back harder, forcing yourself to ignore the way his muscles glide and flex beneath the thin fabric of his flannel with every move. You've got your chin resting on the palm of your hand that's propped against your knee, the other holding a red pen down by your shoe.

You sigh, long and overdramatic, for what feels like the millionth time.

Logan doesn't turn around, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all. His hand hardly even slows, jotting down different tissue structures with infuriating disinterest.

You shift on his desk with a huff, dragging your eyes back to the paper in front of you. You scan over the messy handwriting and tiny diagrams littered over the page as you tap the pen in your hand against the toe of your shoe absentmindedly.

"Knock it off," Logan mutters from across the room, not looking at you as he does. It's the first thing he's said to you since you showed up.

You instantly perk up at the attention, flicking your eyes back to him.

“Knock what off?” you ask innocently, tapping the pen on your shoe harder than before. The tiny 'clack' sound it makes is sharp in the quiet of the room.

Logan finally turns, fixing you with a look that’s equal parts annoyance and amusement. “The sighin’, the tappin’, the huffin’ like you’re a broken radiator. You’ve been makin’ noise since you sat down.”

You narrow your eyes at him, unrepentant. "I’m bored."

He lets out a dry chuckle, turning back towards to board with a amused shake of his head. “Not my problem, sweetheart.”

You frown, dropping the pen and sitting up straighter, as if you’ve just been handed a challenge. "You could try and help me," you suggest, gesturing to the scattered pile with a wave of your hand. "You know? Like a good professor would."

"I don't grade papers, kid. That's what you're here for." Logan shoots over his shoulder, seamlessly picking up where he left off. “Besides, I’m good with the chalkboard for now. Better company.”

“Chalk doesn’t talk back,” you grumble under your breath.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, so now you can hear me?"

Logan doesn’t bother replying, but you can see the barely there smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

You scoot forward on his desk, pushing papers out of the way so your legs can dangle over the edge. You swing your feet back and forth, just enough to disturb another pile of papers sitting nearby, watching them slide closer to the edge.

One more swing and the corner of a stack teeters precariously. You bite your lip, considering whether or not to send it tumbling just to see if that would get him to turn around again.

Logan, of course, somehow knows exactly what you’re thinking without even glancing towards you. “Don’t,” he grumbles lowly, a warning.

You freeze mid-swing, but the urge to push his buttons is too tempting. "What?" you say, all wide-eyed innocence, nudging the pile ever so slightly with your knee.

Logan lets out a deep sigh, giving you a sideways glance over his shoulder. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes, you know that? I doubt Hank's help nags him half as much.”

You grin, taking that as a small victory.

"I was recommended," you remind him, tone overly cheery and saccharine.

"Must've been desperate," he mutters, finally stepping away from the board and dusting chalk from his hands. Logan turns, crossing his arms as he leans back against the chalkboard, giving you a look that says he’s just on the edge of being amused

You raise an eyebrow, fixing him with a blank stare. "I’ll be sure to pass that along to Professor Xavier."

Logan shakes his head, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “Yeah? Be my guest. Make sure you tell him you’re spendin’ your time testin' my patience instead of your job.”

You slump back on the desk with a groan, head tilted towards the ceiling. "It's been forever since I've taken this class," you whine, rolling your head to the left lazily. "I hardly remember any of this, how am I supposed to grade it?"

"Barely remember any of this?" he repeats back to you, brow raised in disapproval. He pushes off the chalkboard and starts to make his way towards you. His steps are slow, deliberate, like he’s sizing you up—though you know it’s mostly for show. 

Mostly.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, still splayed back on your palms and kicking your feet languidly. There’s chalk dust littered over his chest and the front of his thighs, coating them in a thin layer white. Your gaze trails the path of his steps, a slow smile tugging at your lips the closer he gets.

Logan stops in front of you, his towering frame almost filling your view entirely. You’re able to look him in the eyes perched on his desk like this, the green of them is darker than normal.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes glint with a teasing challenge as he tilts his head slightly, like he’s daring you to keep going.

“You got cotton in your ears when I’m up there talking or what?” he asks, voice dipping lower than before.

Your smile widens, and you shrug, trying to keep your cool under his heavy gaze. “You know I can’t listen to you when you wear jeans that tight.”

His eyes lock onto yours, their usual sharpness softened by something more dangerous, something that sends a thrill down your spine. "Maybe if you paid a little more attention," he says, voice a low rumble, "you wouldn’t need to whine so much."

You roll your eyes, even as the heat between you starts to curl in your chest. "Or maybe," you counter, leaning back a touch more and tilting your head up to meet his gaze better, "you could actually help me instead of being a complete pain in the—"

Before you can finish, Logan’s hands slam down on either side of you, caging you in. His face is inches from yours now, that barely-there smirk playing on his lips again.

You can feel the warmth radiating off him, the sharp edge of his stare cutting through your casual defiance.

“—ass,” you finally finish, voice slightly more breathless than before.

Logan just stares at you, the intense and unwavering attention you were itching for earlier makes you want to squirm in place now. His gaze is almost predatory, as if he’s taking in every flutter of your eyelashes and the quickening pace of your breath. 

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down.

You lean forward a little, tilting your head. "So, what’s it gonna take to get you to grade just one of these?" You pick up a paper from the pile and wave it in front of him teasingly. “I really need your help, professor.” 

The word drips from your lips like a challenge, a taunt.

Logan’s eyes flicker with something dangerous, a flash of heat that tells you he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. His fingers brush against the desk right beside your thigh, close enough to feel the warmth of him but it’s still too far.

He leans down slightly, inches away from your lips. His breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting, as the tension in the air thickens.

The scent of him—woodsy and masculine—invades your senses, and you can’t help but feel exhilarated. Your pulse starts to race, a mix of excitement and a hint of challenge flashing between you. 

You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering shut as you lean forward almost involuntarily.

Just as you’re about to close the gap, he pulls back, straightening up with a smug grin.

“Tell you what,” he starts, voice gone casual like he isn’t testing the very limits of your sanity. “I’ll help you.”

You open your mouth, cocky victory speech on the tip of your tongue, but Logan cuts you off.

“Not with grading,” he clarifies with a shake of his head. “It’s more like a," he takes a slow pause, like he's trying to find the right words, "personalized lesson.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse thunders in your ears. "What kind of lesson are we talking about?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but it still comes out breathless.

His hands move from the desk, gliding up your legs until they rest just above your knees, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve ending in your body. 

“Logan—”

Anything you were going to say dissolves into a breathy gasp when he drops to his knees in front of you.

Your thighs clench together, arousal pooling in your panties sticky and wet. Logan's nose twitches, eyes darkening as he scents the headiness of your essence in the air.

His mouth twitches into a slow, deliberate grin as he catches the shift in your scent, the change in your body language betraying your desire. 

His hands, firm yet careful, slide higher along your thighs, fingers brushing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. The fabric rucks up ever so slightly under his touch, exposing just a little more of you to the cool air of the room and the heat of his gaze.

"Real quiet now," he teases darkly, voice husky and thick with tension, his thumbs tracing small, maddening circles against your skin. "Not so mouthy anymore, huh?"

Your breath hitches, a low heat sparking in the pit of your stomach and spreading outward.

Logan's grip tightens slightly, as though he’s testing the weight of your response, the way your thighs tense beneath his hands. He looks up at you, eyes dark and gleaming with an intensity that makes it impossible to think straight.

“You talk a lot of game, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill down your spine, “but I think it’s time to show me you can learn something."

You tilt your head back, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. Your body’s betraying you, hips shifting slightly forward, your legs spreading just so, inviting more of his touch—inviting him to make good on that unspoken promise that hangs between you.

Logan’s smirk deepens, dangerously close to devouring the last of your composure. "All you gotta do," he drawls, his breath hot against the inside of your thigh, "is ask for it."

His hands slide up a little more, his fingers catching on the edge of your panties. You can't help the sharp inhale that escapes you.

His challenge hangs in the air, thick and heavy, but you're past the point of hesitation. The words leave your lips before you even realize it.

"Teach me."

Logan’s grin spreads like wildfire, the kind that sparks and sets everything in its path ablaze. His eyes never leave yours, holding you captive as he flips your skirt up.

Something low and gritty tears its way from his chest at the sight of your panties, soaked fabric melded against the shape of your aching pussy. The sound echoes in the quiet room, low and primal, stirring a deep thrum of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He shoves his way between your thighs, spreading them even further to make enough room for the width of his shoulders.

"You're a smart girl," Logan says easily, leaning down to trail kisses along the skin of your inner thigh, just inches from where you really need his mouth. "You should be able to tell me what tissue this is made of."

He dips his head, trailing his nose along the soaked fabric of your cotton panties until it nudges against your clit.

"Logan, I– ah!”

A sharp slap to your thigh cuts you off, pinpricks of pleasure making you cry out as they bloom red across your skin.

“Is that what you call me?”

It takes a second to click in the haze of your mind, what he’s asking for. When it finally does, you're whole body shivers, a broken moan falling from your lips as you take in the expectant look in Logan's eyes.

Your mind whirls, but the answer tumbles from your lips like a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

"Professor," you gasp, voice soft and laced with need.

Logan's grin is devilish, hands gripping your hips tight enough that you can feel the strength behind them.

"Good girl," he growls, voice thick with approval, the heat in his gaze burning you from the inside out. 

You let out a soft whimper, hips instinctively tilting toward him, silently begging for more. But he doesn’t move. Instead, his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you firmly in place.

“Uh-uh," he rumbles, his mouth inches from you, but not close enough to touch. "You know how this works. You haven’t answered my question."

You can’t respond, silent as you stare down at Logan, wide-eyed as your mind races for anything to say that’ll get him to keep going.

"Come on, baby," he urges, thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin. "Just tell me somethin' smart, I'll give you what you want."

You try to focus, try to remember something—anything—about what he taught in class. But all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your thighs, the heat of his breath, the maddening nearness of his mouth.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your panties, just shy of where you need him most, and you can't help the frustrated groan that escapes you.

“What's sweet thing made of?" He nudges the soaked fabric against your clit again, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"Fuck...erectile tissue," you manage to breathe out, mind fogged as you claw for the right answer. "But it's—it's surface is covered in epithelial tissue."

Extra credit.

Logan hums, the sound low and approving. 

"Very good," he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath your panties, pushing the fabric aside. The first touch of his fingers against your bare skin sends a shiver of pure pleasure through you, your body arching off the desk in response.

His fingers tease along your slit, and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to spill out. Logan watches you closely, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he spreads you open with his fingers, exposing the slick heat between your legs.

Your back arches off the desk with a loud moan, hands gripping the edge hard enough that your knuckles turn white with it. 

“Fuck, look at that,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, sliding his index finger through the wetness gathering at your entrance. “This is all for me? This pretty pussy all wet for your professor?

He presses a finger against your entrance, teasingly pushing just the tip inside before pulling back, relishing the way your body instinctively arches toward him.

You shake your head, peering down at him with glassy eyes. “You were never my professor,” you shoot back breathlessly, unable to keep from pushing against him even now.

Logan hums absentmindedly, eyes glued to the space between your legs. “Lucky you,” he drawls, sinking two fingers inside you without warning.

Your head falls back with a cry, thighs tightening around his shoulders as sparks go off at the base of your spine. 

“Now, tell me how you feel,” Logan prompts, his voice gravelly and filled with that dark, teasing edge. His fingers glide up, slick as they draw tantalizing circles over your clit that set your nerves ablaze.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with arousal as you wrestle with the overwhelming sensations. “I—uh,” you stammer, trying to organize your thoughts, but they slip away like sand through your fingers. “I feel–ah!…good.”

Logan lets out a chuckle. “Good, huh? Just good? You can do better than that. Don't get shy now, baby.”

His hand speeds up, the lewd noise of your slick pussy fills the room with each thrust. “What’s it feel like when I’ve got my fingers in you, hm?”

The dam breaks inside of you, all the embarrassment leaving your body as your hips start rocking down against him lightly.

“Feels so good,” you slur, head lolling to the side to watch him through half-lidded eyes. “Your fingers feel so good in me, professor.”

You’re playing with fire and you know it, but when your eyes slip down his body to find the hard imprint of his cock more than visible through his jeans, you can’t help yourself.

You slide your foot up his toned thigh until the chunky sole brushes against the tented denim.

Logan’s eyes flutter shut for just a second, his grin turning almost feral as he feels the pressure of your foot against him. His hips rock forward slightly, just enough to acknowledge your touch.

“You’re pushin’ your luck, kid,” he bites out, voice rough as gravel, but there's a thread of amusement running through it—like he’s enjoying this game just as much as you are.

You give him a slow, languid smile. "Maybe I like pushing," you breathe, dragging your foot up and down the length of him slowly.

Logan groans darkly, sliding his fingers out of you in one slick motion that makes you whine in protest. His hand moves to grip your ankle, firm but not painful, keeping you pressed against his cock. 

“God, you smell so fuckin’ good,” he says quietly, the words passing through his lips like he couldn’t hold them in anymore. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. 

"Taste even better." His voice is rough, filled with desire that matches your own. You can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily, begging for more.

His grin widens, and finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, he gives in. Logan lowers his head, his mouth pressing against your clit in a slow, deliberate kiss that has your back arching off the desk, a strangled cry ripping from your throat.

Your hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as you guide him closer, urging him on. His tongue flicks against your clit expertly, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin with every drag of his head. The heat builds in your core, faster than you can control, a coil winding tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

Your body feels like it’s been set on fire. The heat builds in your core, faster than you can control, a coil winding tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap. 

“I—I think I’m going to—” you stammer, overwhelmed by the pleasure as he picks up the pace, fingers moving faster.

“Tell me,” he growls, the rumble of it vibrating against your clit as he holds your gaze, plunging his fingers back inside of you. “I want to hear you say it.”

“God, Professor! Fuck, Logan, I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body trembling, ready to explode. Your pussy weeps around the stretch of his thick fingers, soaking his hand and his wrist with your wetness.

"Atta' girl," he growls, pressing his thumb over your clit to send a jolt of ecstasy through your core. "Makin' a fuckin’ mess all over my desk, just like that.”

He leans in, wrapping his mouth around your clit and sucking while his fingers keep up their relentless pace. With barely any pressure, he drags the harsh edge of his teeth over your clit and sends you tumbling over the edge, your body arching into his mouth as you come. 

The sheer force of it has your whole body tensing, your foot pressing on the clothed length of his cock harder than before. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as his hips buck up against the heel of your shoe. 

As you ride the waves of ecstasy, Logan’s eyes stay locked on yours, watching. Greedy eyes taking in every detail of your face, every moan and whimper that falls from your slick lips, every tremor of your body.

He doesn’t relent, his fingers working you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left breathless, heart racing, and utterly spent. 

As you come down from the high, you glance at him, chest heaving with exertion. 

Logan’s already looking at you, his gaze has a little more softness mixed in with the heat still simmering. He drops one last kiss to the slick skin of your thigh before pushing your foot off his lap and standing. His lips and chin glistening with your release, that cocky smirk still firmly in place as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Your eyes fall to where he’s still hard and tenting the denim of his jeans, pre-come leaking from the tip to stain the fabric darker.

“Ready for another one,” he whispers, leaning in close. His lips brush over yours, hips slotting between your thighs to grind the hard length of his cock along your sensitive pussy.

You can’t help the smug smile that takes over your face, your arms raising up to circle around his neck. Your eyes trail along the boards forgotten lesson plan over his shoulder, to the papers that were sitting on his desk scattered on the hardwood. 

Your legs circle his waist, draagging him closer.

"I think so."

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[rcmclachlan]

fanclub dues (bucktommy, tommy & maddie friendship)

Buck's just pulling into the parking lot when the realization that he left his recertification paperwork on Tommy's kitchen counter hits him like another lightning strike, and he drops his head to the steering wheel with a whine. His cert expires today and absolutely has to be postmarked by noon or else Bobby's going to decapitate him, or worse: be really disappointed in him.

His first instinct is to call Tommy, because Tommy's starting a lovely stretch of 72 hours off, and if Buck called him he would absolutely drive the packet over.

Except Tommy's spent the last week reminding Buck to mail the stupid thing before the postmark deadline. If he calls and asks, Tommy won't say I told you so, but he will pause for a second like he's thinking about it before he tells Buck it's no problem. Which is in the exact same pantheon as Bobby's disappointment.

So, he does the next best thing.

"Actually, that works out, because I'm going to be in that area anyway," Maddie says. He can hear the rush of wind and traffic over the line. She must already be driving. "You know how we got on the waitlist for that kindergarten I was telling you about? Looks like a spot is going to open up next year and they asked me to come in for a tour."

Buck frowns. "You're already talking about kindergarten?"

"Jee's four, Buck," Maddie says long-sufferingly. "Kindergarten starts next year."

"That's insane, and also illegal. Tell that girl to stop growing or else she's getting arrested. I know a cop who would absolutely do it, no questions asked."

Maddie laughs, which makes him grin at his reflection in the rearview like an idiot. It always feels like he's won something when he manages to make her at least crack a smile, even when they were kids.

He thanks her profusely, texts her Tommy's address, and then rides that wave of joy right into the station, which continues to carry him through the first couple of hours of his shift.

Around 10:00, his phone chimes with a message. Just pulled up! Front of the house looks great! :-) :-) :-)

Buck smiles down at his phone. He helped plant the flower beds last weekend, and even though he's still finding bits of mulch in weird places because Tommy had pressed him back into the dirt and kissed him filthy in broad daylight in full view of his street, until their smiles got in the way, he can't argue with the end result. They do look good.

This little handoff probably will only take five minutes. Tommy still feels a little awkward around Maddie for reasons Buck cannot fathom for the life of him. Maddie is the kindest, coolest person on the planet, and she's so happy that Buck is happy and Buck is happy because of Tommy, so there shouldn't be any sort of weird vibe. But this is the first time Tommy's ever been in a relationship that made it to the stage where he gets to meet the family and he's so terrified of leaving a bad impression that it's translated into him acting like a robot whenever she's around.

It's maybe a little mean of him to send Maddie to Tommy's literal doorstep. He can just picture the deer-in-headlights look on Tommy's face when he opens the door, but Buck figures exposure therapy can only help. The more Tommy sees Maddie, the more he'll hopefully relax. Small moves.

Maddie will probably send a text in another few minutes about her ETA, but then the bells go off and Buck doesn't give it another thought until a few hours later when they're climbing into the truck to head back to the station.

Unearthing his phone, Buck is expecting a Looks like you're out on a call. I left your stuff on Bobby's desk. See you later!

He's not expecting a video.

Blinking, he checks the timestamp of the message—not twenty minutes ago—and feels the first nibbles of worry in his gut.

What if something happened at the station? What if Gerrard made an unexpected appearance, hoping to, like, challenge Bobby to fisticuffs to get his job back but found Maddie there instead? What if he says something to her, or tries to burn the building down while she's still inside? Maybe she took a video as proof before the ceiling caved in—

He nearly drops the phone trying to press play, and Chim slides in next to him just in time to see Maddie fill his screen.

But instead of evidence of their bitter ex-captain committing arson, it's a selfie video of her in a pair of sunglasses and a cap dancing and singing along to a song Buck doesn't recognize. He does recognize the kitchen behind her, though, because he'd eaten breakfast in it just this morning. There are two bottles of wine on the counter, one empty.

And after a moment, Buck realizes the sunglasses are Tommy's aviators and the pilot cap is the same one Buck accidentally stumbled upon in one of the upstairs closets and made Tommy wear a few nights ago.

But before he can process any of that, Tommy cha-chas his way into the background holding a plate of what looks like sandwiches. He's singing along too. Maddie turns around to look and starts laughing hysterically, the entire screen shaking like they're in the middle of a 9.1 earthquake, when Tommy starts hip thrusting.

Buck's jaw drops. "He said those dorky-ass dance moves were for my eyes only!"

"Wow, I never realized there was a patron saint of FOMO, but here I am sitting next to him. What an honor," Chim says with a laugh, but something in the video must click because his grin is suddenly swallowed by sheer outrage. "Wait, are they having a George Michael dance party without me? Maddie knows how much I love George!"

"What's your definition of dirty, baby, what do you consider pornography!" Maddie and Tommy shout gleefully at the camera.

Chim gasps. "Oh, divorce!"

"What was that about FOMO, Chim?" Hen asks sweetly, but she's grinning so wide at the video—even from her upside down vantage point—that the dig doesn't stick the landing.

Buck looks over at Eddie, who is watching the video serenely, like he's not shocked to see his cool friend full-on shimmying his chest while shoving a grilled cheese into his face.

"Are you not surprised by this at all?" Buck demands.

Eddie shrugs. "If you ever came to karaoke like we keep asking you to, you wouldn't be either. I don't know what you want me to say, Buck. Your man's a dweeb."

He's so annoyed that this is something Eddie's seen so many times before that it doesn't even warrant a reaction that Buck almost forgets to be upset about Maddie and the aforementioned dweeb day drinking and bonding without him. He's oh so glad to see Tommy got over his fear of impressing Maddie enough that he thinks he's allowed to do the fucking running man while in the same room with her.

"C-c-c-c-c-come on!" Tommy howls. Off screen, Maddie cackles and whoops like she's at a rodeo show.

Buck turns to Chimney and says grimly, "After this? You totally get me in the divorce."

Chim makes a face. "Can I contest that?"

"No," Buck says, swiping out of the video before he throws his phone into the street. Almost immediately it chimes with a new text. In a new group chat.

Faxed ur stuff bc ur bf still has a FAX MACHINE and CONNECTIONS at the dir!

Yes and arent uoy glad???1? EVan youre all set baby

BABY lmao gross Going to Jees school now tell u how it goes

When Bobby hauls himself into the front seat, he looks back at them and pauses. Buck doesn't know what his face is doing, but by the dubious expression on Bobby's face, it's nothing good.

"Everything... okay?"

Buck shrugs. "Other than my niece being destined for a career of slinging burgers at In n' Out because my drunk sister and boyfriend are about to get her blackballed from the Los Angeles public school system? We're copasetic, Cap."

'Copasetic,' Eddie mouths, then starts snickering. Buck kicks his foot.

"Hey." Chim smacks him in the chest. "Don't diss fast food workers, they're the backbone of our society. You're just mad you're not cheating Jee out of an education with said sister and boyfriend."

"Aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm well-actualized enough to simply rise above the betrayal," Chimney says easily.

Hen rolls her eyes. "He's not. Between the two of you, we're going to be hearing about this for the next four years."

"Sorry, Maddie and Tommy are doing what?" Bobby asks slowly.

The corners of Chim's mouth twitch downward. "Dancing to I Want Your Sex. Without me, might I add."

Buck's head turns so fast he hears something pop in his neck. "It's called what?"

"Oh god," Hen mutters. Eddie looks like he's ready to start dozing off.

Buck's gearing up for a really good rant when his phone goes off again, and when he opens the message, it's a selfie of Maddie and Tommy pressed together in someone's backseat—hopefully an Uber's—and grinning so hard it almost looks a little painful.

Jealousy starts to rear its head like a snake, but before it has a chance to strike he clocks the name of the group chat.

The Official Evan Buckley Fan Club.

Be safe out htere! We love you!

"I'm just saying," Chim gripes to a visibly unsympathetic Hen, "Maddie wasn't even a George Michael fan until I made her listen to Hard Day!"

Buck turns to Eddie and kicks his foot again. "Want to join The Evan Buckley Fan Club?"

"Dude, I've been treasurer for like seven years," Eddie says without opening his eyes. "And I cast the deciding vote when Tommy ran for president at the end of last year."

Once upon a time a there lived boy in Hershey, Pennsylvania who never dared to conceive the idea that multiple people might someday love him enough to start a fan club over it.

"You over it yet?" Eddie asks.

Something warm and sweet wells inside him and he ducks his head around a pleased laugh. "Yeah, for now."

He does make a mental note to have a serious talk with Tommy about the proprietary nature of those hip thrusts, though.

[hedgehog-moss]

hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.

Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.

Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.

It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.

Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?

[parkerluvsu]

can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!

MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)

sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.

the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.

the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".

art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.

art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)

the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.

an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".

that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.

me: sure, come over anytime

art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.

as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.

you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.

a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).

you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.

art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.

art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.

[wormheamer]

It's taken a while to fully clarify my thoughts on this, and work up the courage to talk about it, but the recent Pansear screenshots are almost certainly fake.

Other people have pointed out a number of problems with them, better than I probably can:

Only two users are ever shown at a time

Things are censored very strangely

Pansear's timestamp in the "feral nsfw" image lines up with Emily's, not their own

The two censored users in that same screenshot also have perfectly aligned timestamps

No actual IDs are shown

0303emily has a default discord pfp

One of the censored profile pictures isn't fully covered, and is the exact same color

All of which add up to a scenario that could be very, very easily faked, with either two people or one person with two accounts. You don't even need to change your whole profile to do this, since there are per-server profiles.

But also I have been told in confidence, by someone I know and trust, someone more familiar with everyone involved than I am, that:

They occasionally see 0303emily around still

That isn't her

It's possible there's some other horrible thing about Pansear that I haven't seen yet. But this? The thing they deleted their accounts over? It's not real. I know their disappearance looked like an admission of guilt at first. It did to me, too. But unless something else comes out, everything points to it being fabricated.

Azriel and company seem to have received it, already censored, from a third party. I think they believe it to be true. But there are people who would gladly fake evidence against Pansear, and as we've established, it really wouldn't be difficult.

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 2

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who's not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.1k Words

Part 1

School assemblies were fun in their own way. You weren’t exactly brimming with school spirit but you could fake it for a half-hour when it got you out of your History class. Everyone was ushered into the gym at the end of the day to celebrate the sport season. You had no idea if the Hawkin’s Tigers were good or not, you could really only name two and a half people on the basketball team: Jason Carver, who you unfortunately had shared a free period with once, Lucas Sinclair, who you had seen talking to Eddie once in a blue moon, and Steve Harrington who had graduated, so he didn’t really count. You vaguely remembered working with him on some school project for two days and thinking that you just wanted to squish his hair down to see if it would spring back up. 

Stacy bounded over to you in the bleachers, decked out in more Tiger’s Green than a leprechaun. She shook the scrunchy out of her hair and slipped it onto your wrist. You sometimes wondered how she never became a cheerleader with how perky she was.

“There, now you look like you tried.” she giggled, nudging you. 

“I was gonna scribble on my face with a green dry erase marker, but Mr. Thompson’s had run dry.” You said. 

“He was probably lying so you wouldn’t steal one and huff it in the bathroom.” 

“Hey, that was one time and 4th grade math was hard.” you cackled. 

“Speaking of hard drugs, look who decided to actually show up.” Stacy smirked and your stomach instantly dropped as you followed her gaze. 

“What the fuck is Eddie doing here?” you whispered to Stacy. “He doesn’t do pep rallies!”

“Guess he does now.” she shrugged. 

Eddie was a few rows lower than you, leaning against the end railing of the bleachers. You vaguely wondered if he was burning up in that leather jacket, it wasn’t exactly cool in the gym with so many bodies all squished together. 

He was alone, looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You didn’t blame him, this clearly wasn’t a place where he fit in. You looked down the bleachers in the opposite direction, unable to pick out any of his friends. During pep rallies, the bleachers were divided by grade, with Seniors on your end of the bleachers, and freshmen on the opposite end. Maybe Eddie was pressing himself against the railing to create his own section of Super Seniors. 

If he was anyone else, you’d join him in that section, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. 

“He looks lonely, go talk to him before they start.” Stacy encouraged. 

“Please, I doubt he’d want to talk to me at any other time. You think he wants to talk to me now?” you asked incredulously. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“He could convince me to join a cult and then sacrifice me to the dark forces.” you said, looking over at him. Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he whirled around. Out of everyone around, his eyes immediately locked onto yours. 

Oh shit.

He heard that. 

His round brown eyes sized you up, and you cringed out of embarrassment for your stupid joke. You felt like a deer in the headlights. Eddie was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time and you were about two seconds away from jumping off the back of the bleachers and tunneling your way out of the school. 

Next to you, you could practically feel Stacy shaking as she tried to hold in her laughter, which unfortunately, triggered your own set of nervous giggling because this whole thing was so stupid and Eddie was still looking at you. 

He looked unimpressed, and flipped you off before turning back around to sulk against the railing again as the band suddenly started up, and everyone started cheering for the team. 

“Gotta say, I am nailing this, Stacy.” You laughed, leaning against her shoulder. “Practically had the boy swooning.”

“Yeah, he’ll be asking you out any day now.” She rubbed your back sympathetically. 

“I can’t believe he heard me. He totally thought I was being serious.” Your giggles finally subsided and you looked up at her. 

“It would be very easy to clear this up, if you’d just talk to him.” She said. 

“I don’t like it when you’re rational, you know.” you replied and glanced at him again. Eddie was no longer looking at you and was just fiddling with his rings as he watched boredly as Principal Higgens was giving announcements. 

You had to apologize. The last thing you wanted was for Eddie to think that you were really like that. You didn’t buy into the bullshit that some dice and graph paper could damn your soul to hell. 

“Fuck it, I’m going in.” you said, and turned to head towards Eddie. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” 

You made your way to the edge of the bleachers, and three things happened in quick succession. First, Miles Cooper got overly enthusiastic as you passed by him, and his elbow made a quick and sharp connection to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. The second thing that happened was a stray backpack got kicked right in front of you as you staggered from the shock of being elbowed. The third and final thing was you falling down the two benches of bleachers that separated you and Eddie. 

“You can either go to the pep rally and act like you are a part of this school, or you can have detention, Mr. Munson. The choice is yours.” 

Normally, no one gave a shit if Eddie skipped out on something like a pep rally. That time was better spent either reading in an empty classroom or as a smoke break in the parking lot. He had just made it out to the parking lot before he was spotted and given the option. Eddie had been good about not skipping class this year, but he really didn’t want to give Higgins another reason to threaten to withhold his diploma. 

So there he was, leaning against the railing of the furthest bleachers so that the second the pep rally ended, he could just book it back to the van and leave to.. Somewhere. Uncle Wayne had work, and Eddie didn’t have a shift at the Hideout. There was no Hellfire today. 

Eddie was feeling restless as he fidgeted with his rings. Today had already been annoying and he really just wanted to sneak out to his van and have a smoke. It’s not like anyone here would miss him, they’d probably celebrate his departure more than the entrance to the basketball team. 

He looked down at his hands, taking his rings off and rearranging them on his fingers. He tapped them on the railing, listening to the sounds they made as he counted the seconds for this whole thing to be over. 

As his mind started to wander off, a voice snapped him back to the hell he was currently in. “-join a cult and sacrifice me to the dark forces.” 

It was always obvious when someone was talking about Eddie. Normally he’d let it go and ignore whoever it was, but he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods today. His head whipped around, looking for whoever was talking about him. 

There you were with Stacy, again. Eddie wished he could be surprised, but he wasn’t. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over. You weren’t dressed in anything that screamed “school spirit” except for a scrunchie around your wrist. 

He saw how you cringed at the sight of him, which only pissed him off more. What was your fucking problem? You were friends with Stacy, who had been on the cheer squad before her ankle gave out, the skaters liked, you liked everyone. Everyone who wasn’t Eddie Munson. 

Eddie had wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, that maybe the two of you just hadn’t crossed paths enough. Maybe it wasn’t personal. But now, after hearing you say that you also thought he was some sort of demon worshiping freak he was fine to write you off as just another Hawkins student. Maybe then he could finally move past this weird feeling he had whenever you gave him the stink eye. 

Stacy started giggling next to you, and Eddie just rolled his eyes and turned away. It wasn’t worth it to start anything now at the pep rally. He was already on thin ice after being caught trying to skip. The sooner this was over the better. 

His attention drifted as Higgins droned on and on about school spirit and upcoming fundraisers and games. It was all background noise. In his mind, Eddie was working out the next dungeon that Hellfire was going to take on. His party was getting too used to his usual tricks, so he’d have to pull out something new to really throw them off-

There was a choked off gasp. 

Then a curse. 

Then a horrible cracking sound as something fell next to him.

“Jesus-!” Eddie jumped nearly a foot in the air as you hit the bleacher next to him. His eye nearly bugged out as he saw you sprawled next to him, clutching your stomach and gasping for air like a fish. 

Everyone in the section was still as they all stared at you, before a few started to snicker. Stacy was quick to jump down with far more grace and land by your side. Eddie was completely frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard Miles Cooper say- 

“It was Munson! He did it!”

Eddie’s head snapped to Miles, about to say something before a teacher sharply demanded the Eddie get off the bleachers and come down for what was sure to be a one-sided lecture and detention for something he didn’t do. 

He didn’t fight it, he was about to argue and cause a scene right now in the bleachers. Not when that teacher had a fire in her eyes that said she was just itching for trouble. Fine, he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. 

Eddie walked down the bleachers and followed the teacher out into the hallway. He was already tuning out the lecture about watching your body and not hitting girls. This was such bullshit, and he knew he couldn’t even fight back and defend himself. 

“Look, I didn’t touch her!” Eddie couldn’t stop the frustration in his voice. “She was behind me when she fell!”

“Witnesses say otherwise.” The teacher crossed her arms. 

“Look, just because that dumbass said it was true-” 

There was a loud CLANK as the heavy doors to the gym burst open and to Eddie’s surprise, you were rushing through the door, holding onto your arm. 

You made a beeline for him and the teacher and Eddie could already see it now. Your fake tears as you cried about how the freak shoved you down for no reason-

“Didn’t... do it.” you were shaking your head and panting hard. With your free hand you were pointing at Eddie. “He didn’t... he didn’t do anything... Miles elbowed me. Then I tripped. Eddie never.... Touched me.” 

Stacy was behind you and grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you in place. “Eddie didn’t do anything, Mrs. Jane.” she explained. “She was just trying to go get some water and ate shit. Eddie had nothing to do with it.”

You nodded, still panting hard as if trying to catch your breath. Stacy was rubbing your back, and you looked like you were on the verge of tears. 

Eddie felt like he had just stepped into an alternate timeline. You were actually defending him? You were in that much pain but had still come running to claim his innocence? 

Mrs. Jane looked at you with concern. “Eddie, you may go back to the pep rally.” She dismissed him without so much as an apology for chewing him out. 

Fuck this. Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way back towards the gym, but slipped into a side hall. The pep rally was going to be over soon anyway, he might as well beat traffic. 

He paused just as he was out of sight. Fine, he was a little nosey and mildly concerned as you had just come to his rescue. 

“I... I think I hurt my arm.” you said, and he could hear the real pain in your voice. 

“I’ll take her to the nurse.” Stacy said. 

Eddie heard the sound of footsteps, and quickly slipped out of the school before Mrs. Jane caught him escaping. 

Yeah, he was going to need something stronger than a cigarette after this. 

I really didn't think the original blurb would get much attention lol

Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

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@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ OFFICE HOURS ONLY - kento nanami

CW: afab!reader, stimulation/penetration, cunnilingus, pet name used is "sweetheart", unprotected sex, gojo mentioned as y/n's fuck buddy, female anatomy.

Word Count: 3.7k

Author's Note: HI GUYZ! this was a collab written by myself and my pookie: @satorusluvrgirl . we worked really hard on this and we're so incredibly proud on how it turned out. i hope you enjoy reading! leave a like and reblog to show support.

WORKING hours and hours at the most famous company really had you fucking drained to the fullest. Getting up at 6 am to be at work at 8 and then going home at 11 pm. Your schedule was mostly full of just work on work on work. But the pay was good at least. And it’s not like you totally hated your job, there was one thing you really looked forward to every morning.

Which was Nanami Kento. The man who would always greet you when you would walk in the office, his “good morning, miss” would always hit the spot, making you look forward to the day. The man who welcomed you on your first day and took you out to get a coffee, little did you know he remembered it, taking you your coffee everyday. The man who would always try to make small talk with you in the break room and ask you little questions.

You knew since the first day you had a huge crush on Nanami. After all he was handsome, well put together, and very well dressed. The suits he had on which made him look so sexy in, they were always top designer suits. Which was understandable since he’s been working longer in this company than you and making more. You wanted Nanami. But the more you thought about him, it just made you more curious about him. is he married? does he have kids? what are his hobbies? but you never made your move. You put the thought in your head that a man like him was most likely married and probably had kids, oh but how you were so wrong.

Nanami was single. A hard working single man who was always working 24/7 and practically had no life other than this job. He never really thought of love. He was always stressed and had no time for anything. He wished he could find someone to relate to his problems. Someone who can probably help him and relieve all this stress he has in him. And he will.

NOW it was 9:30 pm on a Friday, you were working on a big project your boss assigned you, it wasn’t too bad but the first section you were done with. It was just the second section you had a struggle with. You had been working on this project for days, you even had to stay overtime. You set your pencil down and sighed, leaning on your chair. Since you were going to be extending your stay at the office tonight, you thought you should get coffee, italian coffee of course. You grabbed your mug, making your way to the break room which was not too far from your office.

But of course Nanami was in there, He turned his head over to you and flashed a smile. “hello y/n”. you smiled back at him, “hi nanami” you said softly, your voice ringing in his ears. You walked in the room making your way to the coffee machine and pouring it in your mug, your back faced to Nanami. “How’s your project coming along? I see you’re staying overtime to finish it?” he leaned over the counter, taking a sip out of his mug.

you let out a chuckle, “yeah I am.. I got done with the first section of it.. it’s just the second part. i’m just so stressed” you sighed. “i’m sorry about that.. but you know I can always give you a helping hand” nanami offered to you. Maybe this could be your chance to get to know him better, but you knew how stressful it could be so you didn’t want him to help you. “uhm no nanami it’s okay really.. I really appreciate the offer though” you nodded. “I don’t take no for an answer, y/n” he said in a serious tone.

“are you really sure?” you looked at him sincere. “yes of course” he nodded, you sighed. “fine, uhm i’ll go over to your office once everyone starts heading out.” he put his coffee mug down to add more creamer, “sure thing”, you smiled and started walking out, “alright thanks nanami! i’ll see you later” you said before leaving the room.

You let out a breath you held in while talking to him, as you got to your office you squealed lowly to yourself in excitement. It was finally your time with Nanami alone. Just you two, no one else in the office.

AS the time passed you grew impatient, you wanted to be with Nanami, and finally the time came. You fixed up yourself in the bathroom mirror. Lifting up your skirt and fixing your blazer, along with your hair. You also fixed up your makeup since you had your bag with you, you added more of your lipstick and gloss on your lips. You got your perfume and sprayed all over your body.

Looking in the mirror you fixed up a little more. You left the bathroom and gathered your things, heading to Nanamis office. You took a deep breath and knocked on his door which you heard him say “Come in!” you slowly opened the door and slid in. “hi” you said with a small wave making Nanami smile. “here come take a seat” he patted the seat next to him by his desk. you took your seat, you opened up your computer and pulled out the section you had to work on for the project. Nanami pulled your chair closer to him making you widened your eyes.

“Sorry I couldn’t see your screen” he said. You nervously chuckled, “i’m sorry about that”. You turned your computer to him. “It’s fine, let’s get to work shall we?” you smiled and nodded. “yes, let’s do it..”

An hour had past by, you and nanami quickly opened up to each other. Just like how you hoped for. He was telling you everything you wanted to know, To his hobbies, to his favorite ice cream color. You were admired by him, the way he talked about his passions with you. It just made you fall for him even more.

Nanami wasn’t really the type to open up quickly or even talk, but with y/n it was different. She was different. She was a breath of fresh air and that’s something Nanami needed in his life. Y/n made him feel at ease. He felt like he could talk to her without being judge, vice versa with her as well. Not only that Nanami always noticed y/n. She was very hot. But he thought she had a boyfriend, a girl like her was probably in a relationship. he was wrong like how you were.

“Alright I think that’s the last of it” Nanami typed the final words in and sent in an email to the boss. “thank you nanami I really appre-” you got cut off by a notification on your phone, making you both look down as your phone was placed in between you both. Giving Nanami access to see your phone clearly and so did you.

GOJO: haven’t seen you in a while, angel. can I see you tonight?

“boyfriend?” Nanami looked away from the phone to you. You looked at him at the same time, “no he’s just a friend”. Nanami raised his brow at you, he wasn’t convinced. “friends send each other those kin-” once again your phone rang and it was gojo again…

GOJO: [attachment image] (dick pic)

“Friends send each other those type of messages and pictures?” Nanami teased. You turned off your phone, “it’s not like that..” you sighed. “you’re not going to reply?” you shakes your head no, of course not why would you reply when your with the man who you’ve been dying to spend time with.

“I'm just too stressed to be dealing with him right now” you closed your computer. “I could help with that.” Nanami smirked and put his hands on your thighs “h-huh?” you stuttered in disbelief but as you turned your head a bit, all that you saw was the genuine expression on his features.

Although you weren't too familiar with Nanami all that well, you couldn’t help but feel sure that he wasn’t the type to play games. His serious demeanor combined with that smirk hinted at a depth you found irresistible.

“Y-You could help?” you echoed, your heart racing as his hand lingered on your thigh. It was a bold move, and you were torn between excitement and nerves.

“Just a little stress relief,” he said, his voice low, leaning slightly closer. “Sometimes we need more than just coffee to unwind.”

You swallowed hard, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was a desire that mirrored your own. “What do you have in mind?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, we could start by talking about what you really want,” he replied, brushing his thumb gently against your skin.

The heat radiating from his touch sent shivers down your spine. “I... I want to know you better,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “But I don’t want to complicate things.”

He leaned back slightly, giving you a searching look. “Complication can lead to something beautiful,” he said, his tone earnest. “And right now, I think we both need a break from this endless cycle of work.”

"I guess you could say that."

Nanami hummed at your word, his hand sliding a bit more up your thigh. you heart thumped against your chest and you were sure that if you released your body from it's tense state, it would beat right through your chest. "now," he began, making you look up at him, your eyes locked on each others.

"tell me your answer to my previous question, y/n."

"what i want?" you question. it seemed like you were making sure that you understood what he meant, but in actuality, you already knew. you just needed some kind of excuse to give yourself time to think and answer the question properly without making a complete fool of yourself. he nodded, sitting up properly in his seat.

"i just need a break from this project. that's all." you finally confessed. although it was the truth, it wasn't the entirety of it. "then lets take one. I'm sure thirty minutes won't hurt."

"just thirty?" you questioned, eyes widening at his next word. "what? you think it'll take longer for me to get you to feel good?" his fingertips finally grazed your clothed sex with a careful motion. your body jolted just barely, but with the way Nanami's gaze was on you, he of course noticed it.

"relax for me, sweetheart. this is supposed to help you feel better." he twisted his wrist slightly, allowing the pads of his middle and ring finger to press against your clothed bud. you let out a shaky breath and as he applied more pressure, the feeling only increased. "you know, there's a few people down the hall." he muttered, using his freehand to turn your chair so that you'd face him. "all had the same idea as us to stay after hours and finish up some work."

Nanami mentioned this on purpose. he knew where he wanted to get with this and you began to pick up on it too when he began massaging circular motions against your sensitive bud. "as much as i want to hear the beautiful sounds you make, you have to be quiet, okay?" he features softened and you so badly wanted to feel relaxed by it, but the more he continued, the harder you'd bite down on your bottom lip to suppress the slipping whimper.

you shook your head, holding his gaze and moving your hand to grip his wrist. "Nanami-" he only sped up his movements, and this time you couldn't help but let out an audible moan. the fabric of your panties only gave you more friction. his hands were skillful and heavy in a way that you couldn't even begin to explain. "that's going to be a problem, y/n." he spoke, his voice snapping you out of your small daze along with the fact that he stopped his movements.

"what is?" you asked, uneasy not just by his words, but his tone as well. he couldn't have just played you and decided against you guys' dangerous idea, right? that wasn't like Nanami, but when you thought deeper, you realized that maybe it was. afterall, you didn't know him all that well. "oh, don't sound so heartbroken sweetheart." he said, a small frown on his lips at your despairing expression.

"i-i'm sorry." you quickly said, shifting a bit to get out of his grasp, but he stopped you with a hand against the arm of your chair. "that's not it. you've got the wrong idea, y/n. i meant that you can't make such sounds. so loudly, at that."

confusion struck you just as hard as the realization. you weren't thinking straight at all. call it the stress, fatigue, or lust, but it was all scrambling your train of thought and it was obvious since you hadn't even noticed the fact that Nanami was guiding you to stand as he still sat. he pulled you closer to him, one of his knees making its way between your parted legs. "take a seat, sweetheart. I've got a solution to that vocal mouth of yours."

you followed his words and took a seat right on his thigh, your legs straddling either side. Nanami admired you deeply and lustfully, yet he was able to keep his composure. you on the other hand, couldn't help but grind down just a bit at the lack of attention that you needed in certain areas. Nanami quirked an eyebrow at your actions, and while you wanted to feel regret for your impatience, you couldn't.

it simply felt too good.

"please touch me again, Nanami." you muttered, the feeling of yearn coming to you when you glanced at his hand that rested against your thigh. he only lifted your skirt, pushing the item further up to reveal your clothed sex. "let's keep you quiet for a bit, okay?" he muttered, his freehand meeting with your nape to pull your face down closer to his. your lips met after a small pause and Nanami pulled you in in mere seconds.

this new position allowed you to press your bud against his thigh and for Nanami to use his other hand to reach around you and pulling your panties to the side. the tips of his digits traced up and down your slit, making you moan into his mouth. he retreated his fingers just as swiftly and planted both of his hands on your waist, firmly gripping your flesh as a sigh fell onto your tongue.

you parted your lips as his tongue slid against your own. he griding your sex against his thigh, using your hips to control your body. a whimper escaped from you but he devoured it just in time for it to only be muffled. "I've needed you for so long, y/n."

this caught you off guard. you could've never imagined that Nanami would think such a thing and better yet say it to you. "everyday you show up to work, i can't help but drive myself insane just by thinking about you." he groaned, firmly holding your hips in place as he pulled back to look down at his slacks.

the dampened area just beneath your sex sent a wave of embarrassment over you and Nanami only let out a strained groan as he adjusted the growing tent of his lap. "stay quiet and make a mess for me, yeah?" you nodded to his words. "can you use your fingers again, Nanami?" the question was laced with impatience. you missed the feeling of his digits and he knew that. he motioned with your panties, lifting you with ease to remove the now bothersome article of clothing.

"anything you need, sweetheart. the purpose of this is to take some of that stress off of you afterall." Nanami wasted no time to guide his fingers to your sex, slowly inserting his fingers as you leaned forward to let out a moan into his shoulder. he withdrew them once before inserting them again. each time felt better than the last and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him as he pleased you better than you could even imagine.

you had a strong attraction to Nanami and it's lasted for weeks now. you'd always have theses fantasies about him whether you wanted to or not and neither of them could beat the standard that he was setting. "can't wait to feel you around me, sweetheart." his voice was low, rugged, and you could tell that his patience was slipping. if yours could be slipping and you were the center of his attention, you couldn't imagine how much he was holding back right now.

you saw the strain of his slacks. the way the material showed no mercy to hide the outline of his erection. "we don't have to wait." you finally spoke, pushing yourself up to hold his gaze. "please." you pled, using your hand to cup his jaw. he tried to read your expression, but the lust overpowered everything else.

you reached for his belt, undoing it and following that by unpinning the button of his slacks. in a swift movement, you pulled away his pants and his briefs, the last drop of patience leaving your being at the sight of him. you shifted when Nanami removed his fingers from your sex and in an attempt to finally get what you both wanted, you were stopped by Nanami as he grabbed your hand that was reaching for his length. "patience, sweetheart. take it slow. i don't want to hurt you."

"i can take it. please, Nanami." you couldn't count how many times that word had left your mouth tonight. Nanami gave you everything you asked for, yet you couldn't help but want more. all of him. despite your words, he knew that lust could be blinding so he shook his head, tone stern now. "slowly, y/n." he said.

a small pout was on you lips and he reached his hand up to your face, using his thump to swipe away your messed lip-gloss. "don't give me that look, sweetheart. i know you can take it. I'm not going anywhere until you feel satisfied so there's no rush." you nodded at his reassurance and he placed a supported hand underneath your thigh, helping you balance a bit better.

you kept yourself up on your knees as he gripped his length in a fist, holding your gaze as his tip prodded your entrance. he gently released your thigh just a bit, allowing you to sink down to engulf him with your warmth. he let out a moan through panting breaths, the thought of the people just down the hall leaving both of you guys' mind.

you let out a swear at the entirely new feeling and Nanami gently gripped your jaw so that you'd face him and hold his lustful gaze. he lowered you to sink down on him, both his and your lips parting as you let out a moan of pleasure. "you're so perfect like this, sweetheart." he managed to get out, his eyes admiring the way all of his length disappeared into your sex. he felt pure bliss and you clearly felt the same, given the way that your loudening whimpers began to heighten.

"yeah, you're handling it so well." he groaned as she tightened around him. Nanami help her hips, aiding her in riding him since she was too overstimulated to continue on her own. "so much." you mumbled as you leaned in to place a kiss to his jawline. he sighed from the action of affection and y/n began letting out smooth moans as he slowly lifted you from his length before your skin met with his lap once again.

"make a mess for me, sweetheart. i want to see how good I'm making you feel." he encouraged. you used whatever remains of energy you had to grind against him as you slick began to pool at the base of his erection. he gave you more, and like you have been when it comes to Nanami, all you could think was more. he knew this. he felt it in the way your movements sped up and heightened in incoordination.

he allowed it to happen for a period of time, but immediately stopped you when your moans grew. the whine that left your mouth came straight from your chest, making Nanami feel guilt immediately. "Nanami, why'd you stop? please don't stop." you whined, voice sounding like a broken cry. "i have to, sweetheart. you'll cum if i keep going and i can't have that because i want to taste you when you do."

with that, he quickly lifted you both from his seat and placed you to take his pace instead. he groaned as his length left the warmth of your sex. before you could retaliates, his knees met with the office's carpet and he wrapped both of his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs parted before he leaned in, his lips wrapping around your bud in seconds. a pleasureful whine escaped from your chest and his tongue gathered your arousal, the sweet taste urging him to grip his length with a desperate fist. he groaned into your sex and he placed a stripe of your own arousal against your bud.

his lips latched around the sensitive area as his tongue showed you no messy despite your cries and pleas. you were getting what you wanted which was more.

"Nanami i-i'm-" your breath hitched in your throat. your legs threated to close around his head but he was firm with his grip, holding you in place. "close?" he finished your sentence. "i know. cum on my tongue, sweetheart. please."

without another beat, you did just that, your arousal coating his tongue in just mere seconds. your body jolted and shivered against him and Nanami continued past your limits. your moans filled the room and Nanami released an arm form around your thigh and used his hand to grip his length, moaning as he brought himself to his own high. his cum spurted onto the fabric of his slacks and onto his thigh.

your panting breaths were in quiet harmony with one another and you glanced at Nanami with a dazed expression. he stood up, checking the watch on his wrist before leaning down to your face.

"we made good time, sweetheart. thirty minute break was well spent."

all credits go to @leahrintarou & @satorusluvrgirl :D

Taglist: @nemoo888 @delicatexmoonchild @flowerpjimin @tedcruzumakii @sugacor3 @selysixn @mitsuyas-version @matchaismylove @cyberrthegreat @ivydoesit23 @riririntaro @ilovechickfilasauce @sincerelyzee @daydreamteardrop @satorusluvrgirl @tired-jaz

[vrystalius]

could you do hashira men with an s/o that's taller than them? (idk how this would work for gyomei since hes a literal beast)

Being taller than the hashira

How will they react to their s/o being taller than them?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa (179cm, 5’10")

You just can’t stop annoying him for being taller, can you? You with the head-pats, weather jokes and whatnot. It annoys Sanemi to no end how Genya is taller than him, someone who’s supposed to be smaller just because of his age, and now you’re doing it too! You’re supposed to be his spouse, damn it! Stop holding things above his head where he can’t reach it! He’s completely average height! Why are you even teasing him like this? It’s not Sanemi’s fault you’re rivalling the height of a mountain, so why make it his problem that you’re insecure, huh?!

Also, do not even dare to pet his head like you would with a child. He will kick your leg or break your kneecaps when you do it. He’s a grown man and doesn’t need you joking to him everyday that Sanemi’s going to get taken away during the Christmas period to work in Santa’s workshop as an elf. (Let’s pretend Santa exists in the Taisho Era)

“Never pat my head again. NEVER. And now fuck off or I’ll ignore your ass for the next week, no kisses, no nothing.”

Kyojuro Rengoku (177cm, 5’10")

It’s very amusing and adorable to him. Kyojuro needs to lift his face a little to properly face you and tip-toe a little to kiss you. It’s one of his favourite things in the world. Also, another thing he loves about you being taller than him is how comfortable it is to hug and hold you. Once he wraps his arms around your waist he can perfectly nuzzle his face against and into your warm chest.

It’s very endearing to him how you have to lean down to kiss him on the lips and how you sometimes pat his head as a greeting or just randomly without a reason. It makes Kyojuro’s whole day when you ruffle his hair a little everytime your hand touches the top of his head.

He sometimes hears from Tengen’s wives how they steal Tengen’s clothes to wear them, and he wanted to test this out himself. His clothes are too tight and small on you, but your clothes somehow fit him perfectly. They’re a little oversized, but that’s what makes them so comfortable. Kyojuro steals your clothes daily and wears them around the house with a huge smile.

“Oh, is that a new shirt, my love? May I try it on as well? It looks very comfortable!”

Gyomei Himejima (220cm, 7’2")

It was very surprising to him when he first met you. Gyomei believed that no one is capable of being taller than him, but you proved him wrong. He almost pitied you for towering over everything, like him. Due to his height, many people find him intimidating and scary, something you probably experienced yourself as well. He is very curious about your own experiences about being so tall and how people act around you.

Also, Gyomei feels very comfortable around you. He’s actually glad that his spouse is a little taller than him, that way he’s not afraid of scaring you with his height alone. He asked you not to tell anyone in case people ask, but he adores being the little spoon snd being held by you during the nights. It makes him feel just a little safer and more loved.

“My love, may I lay my head against your chest? You’re incredibly warm…”

Giyu Tomioka (176cm, 5’9")

Your height makes him slightly insecure about his own height. Giyu knows that he’s not the tallest of them all and that you can’t influence your height, but he’s just average. Average in fighting, average-to-worst-hashira, average in protecting, and now average in height. Seeing you tower over him like that… it just stings a little.

Yet, he likes when you have to lean down to kiss Giyu. It makes him flustered how you sometimes tilt his chin and lean down. One time, you lifted him up into your arms and peppered his face in kisses, then putting him back down and walking off. You left him behind to get all flustered and embarrassed. It makes him… feel things when you can throw him around with ease. It’s embarrassing, incredibly so, but he just can’t deny it to himself how much he actually likes it. He just really hopes you won’t notice.

“Put me down. Please. Pretty please.”

💠

I know this is short, so forgive me! I want to post at least two things today and take advantage of my sickday as much as possible :P! Hope you enjoyed reading it and thank you so much for requesting! This was fun!

Anyways, take care of yourselves <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

[blueteller]

Do you know how smart Cale actually is? Like- what extent his intelligence can reach?

That's an interesting question! Let's take a look.

From what I know of IQ scores, anything above 120 puts you in top 10% of the population. So I easily see Kim Rok Soo!Cale belonging in that category; of >120 IQ. However, IQ had always felt a little vague to me. It's nice to have a number to put on a scale and all, but what does it actually mean in reality? Let's try this from a different angle.

Gardner's Multiple Intelligences model of divides talent into eight categories, plus one additional one:

Visual-spatial

Linguistic-verbal

Logical-mathematical

Body-kinesthetic

Musical

Interpersonal

Intrapersonal

Naturalistic

Existential

Why not try to measure him up against each one, as no person is actually intelligent in every way and not even a fictional character can excel in all of them (unless they're a Mary Sue or something lol).

Visual and spatial judgment stands for easy reading, writing, puzzles solving, recognizing patterns and analyzing charts well. I think Cale is definitely a pro in this category; he does loves reading and he's fantastic at analyzing data.

Linguistic-verbal is for remember written and spoken information, debates, giving persuasive speeches, ability to explain things and skilled at verbal humor. And while I constantly make fun of Cale for not being able to explain himself, he IS good at using the "glib tongue" and being persuasive, so I think he is very skilled in this category as well.

Logical-mathematical means having excellent problem-solving skills, the ability to come up with abstract ideas and conduct scientific experiments, as well as computing complex issues. Cale is an incredible strategist able to change his plans in an instant, so he is definitely a genius in this field.

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence is a fun one, because I think it's the hardest one to judge, considering that he literally changed bodies. It of course stands for sports, dancing, craftmanship, physical coordination, and remembering better by practice rather than learning theory. Cale... does not like that. However, it doesn't mean he's BAD at it. If he was a genius in this field, however, I believe he would like it a bit more. Thus – I suspect he was average. In the past he was forced to exercise for the sake of survival, but once he was given the option of taking it easy, he quit instantly. He is capable, but does not have any particular predisposition for it.

Musical Intelligence drives me nuts, because we literally do not know, and I dearly wish I did. There was not a single mention of it in the whole series. As much as I want to believe in a cool headcanon of KRS being an unrealized musical genius... I think he was probably average or below average in this.

Interpersonal Intelligence stands for communication, conflict-solving, perception and the ability to forge connections with others. And while you might have some doubts about Cale, I say he IS a total pro in this. Those are all leadership skills, and Cale is one HELL of a great leader.

However...

Intrapersonal Intelligence is where Cale is severely lacking. It could be partially due to trauma, but I think at least some of it comes through his natural personality. It stands for introspection, self-reflection, the ability to understand one's motivation and general self-awareness; and that is Cale's biggest weakness, one that might actually cost him his slacker life dream in the end, due to all the misunderstandings he causes.

The last two, Naturalistic and Existential Intelligence types, are also not really Cale's forte. The first is for things like botany, biology, and zoology, paired with enjoyment of camping and hiking – none of which Cale actually does for pleasure, only because he has to. And yeah, farming is in that category too, but it's not like Cale is actually a real farmer just yet. And the second is for stuff like philosophy, considering how current actions influence future outcomes, the ability to see situations from an outside perspective and reflections into the meaning of life and death – and Cale is REALLY not interested in this type of self reflection.

Which leaves Cale with 4 types of intelligence he excels at, 2 which he is REALLY BAD at, 1 where he's below average and 1 he's probably average, with 1 left completely unknown.

Does this make Cale a genius? Pretty much, yes. Does it also make him stupid in very specific ways? VERY MUCH, YES.

[ppnuggiex]

Hello can I request a unserious s/o who is rarely mad(gn reader if possible) with the octavinelle trio and riddle, and one day they js see their s/o pissed af and being a badass

So sorry if this made no sense😭if it doesn't make any sense js reply to this I'll try my best to put it into understandable words(??) Pls ignore if u can't do this request or anything! :)

　　　　　　TWST x gn reader

　　　　『　riddle ,, azul ,, jade ,, floyd ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　->

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, tw for side characters being jerks

　　— sorry for how late this is 😭🙏 but ive finally gotten to it !! hope you enjoy :))

| • hes more used to seeing you playing around with ace and deuce ,, used to you making a joke about anything at any moment possible

| • seeing you get serious and mad with a student ,, more specifically one from his dorm ,, is enough to let him know something was wrong

| • he's quick to figure out the situation ,, the student being apart of a project for one of crewel's assignments and shirking their responsibilities onto you ,, it was understandable to be upset about

| • riddle will reprimand the student ,, disappointed they would do this to you ,, let do it in the first place . he prides himself on keeping his students well educated and up-to date with their assignments . if they need help ,, then they would get it if they'd ask

| • hes not too sure how exactly to deal with you being angry ,, as hes more used to your more softer and joking side

| • least to say ,, riddle will be on your side depending on the situation when you get angry

| • he's the same with riddle ,, also not used to seeing you mad ,, even during his overblot you didnt express any anger as you did now

| • a pomefiore second year ,, one that was in his history class ,, was pestering you about notes regarding the assignment azul and the rest of his class had gotten

| • the student was probably aware of what azul used to do ,, or maybe theyre aware of his new plan of purchasing so much from monstro lounge and getting hole punches to meet with him

| • either way ,, they werent letting up about notes for the assignment ,, nor leave you alone about it

| • and thus it led to your yelling ,, catching him by surprise to even hear you yell

| • even when floyd pestered you ,, and when jade would jokingly (possibly) say he put poison in the food you offered to taste test ,, you never truly got as angry as you were with this persistent student

| • benevolent as azul was ,, he was quick to come to your aid and help with the problem . escorting the pomefiore student away ,, letting you cool off for a moment ,, and deal with this troublesome being .

| • needless to say ,, he definitely didnt want to be on the receiving end for your anger

| • jade had tried in the past to see what makes you tick ,, what could possibly get on your nerves but to his disappointment he wasnt able to figure it out

| • he would joke that he slipped a intoxicating mushroom in your soup ,, or say he couldnt remember where he placed your gift during a holiday

| • yet nothing he did would ever give him the reaction he's witnessing in front of him now

| • it was meant to be a relaxing trip to beach ,, but instead he was on the sidelines watching a showdown

| • it happened when you offered to get something from the snack bar provided ,, you got a little peckish swimming out there and jade wasn't hungry at all ,, used to having to swim

| • one of the customers behind you had cut ,, and at first you werent going to make such a deal out of it ,, until he had purposely got out of line and then got back in ,, except right in front of you

| • with that ,, you had pointed it out that he had cut the slowly growing line not once but twice ,, to his reply was something regarding your attitude and to "what who you're talking to like that"

| • and then it spiralled down hill from there . jade heard the commotion from your guys' spot on the beach ,, not too far from the ocean but far enough to not get splashed by the waves

| • jade was surprised to witness your anger ,, and watched for a moment before stepping in to help

| • thankfully others were eye witnesses to the situation ,, and the others were there to back you up and testify for you

| • not that jade wouldnt believe you ,, but it also helped difuse the situation and the guy soon left ,, and jade had finally witnessed what your anger would be like

| • if he had to compare your anger to someone ,, it would be that of jade's . its not often you get angry ,, and jade does but he never truly shows it flat out ,, rather hidden under his mask of deception

| • though its high time you stood up for yourself ! floyd knows how much people can push you over and you'd just laugh it off and reference something from your world

| • though after a customer had gotten too close to you and tried to put the blame on you ,, it was evident you were angry . floyd wasnt present at the scene ,, but another staff member had witnessed what happened and informed floyd ,, hoping he could get rid of the guy at least instead of adding fuel to the flames .

| • and that's what he did ,, not without leaving a small threat to the guy that if he were to cause such a ruckus again he would be given more than just a warning

| • floyd ,, having witness your anger ,, knows that he would rather you joke around and be playful than witness that again ,, having to calm you down was not something he'd want to experience again

[sanguineterrain]

a bloody vow | jason todd

Summary: After the racy encounter with your knight, you seem to lose all progress made in your relationship. You hardly talk, and you're lonelier than ever. But after a house break-in has you running to Jason for help, you're forced to face each other, blood and all.

Pairing: knight!Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/tags: violence! Jason kills a man. reader and jason's house is broken into and the thief attacks the reader (but they're okay.) mentions of self-flagellation, religious guilt. reader feels very lonely without their big strong knight :( the eroticism of killing for another person. codependence. partial nudity. probably not the healthiest relationship but whatevs. Jason would do anything for them what more could you want?

the divider

Everything's changed since the morning that you found Jason with the whip.

He won't even eat with you anymore.

He accepts whatever you make and thanks you quietly, then eats his supper in the shed. He didn’t say much before—now you're lucky if you get more than a word from him.

He's also taken to punishing himself regularly. Jason does it far away, so he won't wake you. But you've seen his back and the welts peeking beneath his tunic and the spots of blood. You also see fresh injuries from his training, injuries that could be avoided if he was more careful. You've tried to offer him a salve to heal his back. He always refuses, flinching like a kicked dog if you get too close.

You fear that you'd pushed Jason too far that morning. You replay it in your mind, wondering what exactly had possessed you to act in such a vulgar manner. Exposing yourself to him like that after spying on him earlier—what were you thinking?

You weren't, is the truth. It seems all rational thought leaves your brain when you're around him.

It's truly like living with a ghost. Your feelings are jumbled, caught in a maelstrom of guilt and fear and desire. More than anything, you're unbearably lonely. You'd feared a harsh hand when you first were deposited into Jason's bed. You never imagined that there could be a worse fate than being wanted: being ignored.

So, it's been three weeks of this new routine. Jason has been disappearing at night to the pub. Not that he told you that—you know this because of the incessant gossip that flies around the market. It's not hard to decipher who the 'hulking knight' is when people stare at you.

You try not to think about what Jason gets up to. You really have no right to be angry if he finds someone to warm his bed. You're lucky he hasn't thrown you into the sea after your insolence.

Routine is all that keeps you sane. You do the washing and cooking without complaint. Jason still leaves you money to go to the market, and sometimes you save a couple of coins to buy books. You keep the books under a floorboard in your room. He never asks you for change.

You don't know if this routine will be enough, though. You wish Jason would just throw you out and be done with it. You're certainly not performing the duties that the king expected of you when he brought you here. Jason can hardly look at you, much less touch you.

You eat alone tonight. By the time you wash up and are ready for bed, it's late. Jason still isn't home.

Not unusual these days. You get into bed and blow out the candle. Maybe you won't wake in the morning. Then you'll both be free.

A crash jerks you out of slumber.

You're awake immediately, fumbling under your bed for the small dagger you'd secretly purchased when you first came.

Your first thought is that Jason came home drunk. But if he’s come home drunk in the past, you've never heard him, and it's always as quiet in the morning as it was the night before.

A chilling second thought hits you as the floor creaks outside your door.

Someone's broken in.

You quietly get to your feet, dagger in hand. If Jason were home, he would be here already, dealing with the problem. As it is, you're alone and completely vulnerable without your knight.

Your door splinters open. You stumble backwards.

"Wha' have we here?" A lantern shines in your face. "Look a' this. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone."

You bolt for the front door.

“Oh, no no, you don’t.”

The intruder darts after you and stops you before you can open the door. He hauls you backwards and throws you against the dying fireplace. You land on your ribs and the wind is knocked out of you.

"Too big of a house for a little mouse like you,” the man says with a greasy sneer. 

You turn and lunge at him. You catch him off guard enough to stab his shoulder with the dagger. He howls in pain and shoves you off. Your head hits the wall, and for a moment, you fear you’ll vomit. But you don’t, so you stand.

"You bitch!" he shouts. "I'll fuckin' kill ya for that!"

That's all the motivation you need to run.

You’re aching all over, head pounding. Your legs are cold, being that you're only in a nightgown. You might be bleeding. But you keep running.

You run all the way into town, which feels like miles at this time of night, bruised as you are. It’s easy to find the pub, and it doesn’t even occur to you that you’re not allowed inside. All that’s on your mind is Jason. Find Jason.

You pound your fists on the door of the pub, crying.

"Jason, Jason!" you shout. “Help me, please! Please!”

The door opens. You stumble in, almost tripping on the uneven wood. Men stare at you as you enter.

"Jason!" you yell.

A knight you don't recognize stares down at you, blocking your path. You stumble back, grabbing the wall for support.

"Out," he snarls. 

"Please," you beg. "Please, I need my husb—"

He's shoved aside suddenly, ale sloshing over his mug. He growls in protest, but someone drags him away by the back of his tunic. 

Relief floods you at the familiar face who takes his place. Jason.

He's obviously shocked to see you here, eyes roving over you. His shirt is unbuttoned, a thin fresh cut on his cheek. He says your name. Every inhibition you’ve felt over the last month disappears.

"What—"

You throw yourself into his arms, weeping. Jason catches you, cradling the back of your head. You're surrounded by him, the rest of the world blocked out. He smells like the strong yellow soap you make in large chunks because it’s cheaper than purchasing it at the market. He smells like the home you share.

"What is it? Where do you hurt?" he asks quietly, shielding you from all the pairs of eyes. He rubs your back, bent over you. You cling to his neck, shaking with the memory of tonight.

"A man b-broke in," you say, and Jason's grip tightens. "He said–he said he w-would...k-kill…"

You trail off. Jason pets you, breathing even on your neck.

You know that you hardly have any rights, that the men here would sooner see you die than step into danger for you. Perhaps that includes Jason too. Perhaps it's too late. 

"I understand," Jason says into your ear. He doesn’t waver despite how you tremble. "It's alright. I won't let him hurt you again. I'm... I'm so sorry for leaving you alone."

He exhales, long and slow. You feel him begin to pull away. You panic, digging your nails into his arms. Jason quickly soothes you. He doesn’t chastise you for clawing him. 

"It’s alright. I'm going to handle this, and then we'll go home," he says. "Roy."

A redheaded knight approaches. You slowly turn your head. He smiles gently at you.

"Your Highness," he says, bowing deeply, and you feel a little lighter.

"Roy's going to take you home while I handle the thief," Jason says. "I promise that I'll be fast, alright?"

"You promise you won't leave?" you ask. “You’ll come home right away?”

Jason takes your hand, stroking your knuckles. "I swear. May God strike me down if I don't return."

“Oi, man, get your little harlot out of—”

Jason stands, rising and towering over the angry drunk. He’s immediately cowed under Jason’s gaze.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason says, even and deadly. The man leaves in a huff.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble," you whisper, cheeks still wet.

"You haven't," is all he says, before leading you outside.

You have an audience, which is absolutely humiliating, but neither Jason nor Roy pays them any mind, so you don’t either. 

Roy helps you onto his horse, and in the time that that takes, Jason is already headed back to the house by the time you and Roy start off. You realize then that you trust Jason. You've never met this Sir Roy in your life—Jason's never even mentioned having friends. But you trust that you will get home safely. 

“Jason won’t let him get away,” Roy says. You believe him.

The ride is short. You don’t know if you’ll manage to go back to sleep without Jason there, but the least you can do is host Roy, perhaps. You’re bone-tired, but you ought to be hospitable, shouldn’t you?

But as you get closer to the cottage, you hear voices in the woods. Jason’s horse is out front. You dismount without Roy's help and take off running. He calls after you. You ignore him.

You don't go through the house, not ready to face the destruction your intruder left in his wake. Instead, you go around and follow the stream into the woods. The voices get louder. When you get to the clearing by the shed, you stop.

The lantern has been knocked onto its side, flames flickering. But you can very clearly make out Jason in the dark. His shadow cuts a frightening figure that dances across the trees. Moonlight flickers through the canopy, illuminating him and the other figure. Your attacker.

Your attacker, who’s discovering that he picked the wrong house to rob.

Jason's got him pressed against a tree. Blood drips from the man's head and face. You stay a few yards away, behind a tree. The bark dully bites into your hand. You’re torn on whether you should make yourself known or not. Stop this or not.

"You touched them," Jason says, and does something with his sword that draws out a strangled groan from the attacker. The metal shines with fresh blood.

"I am worse than you," he continues. "I lost sight of my duty. My reason for living. Everything I do is for the star-crossed beauty my king captured for me. It's all I can do to pay penance for my sins. And you come into my house and dare to lay a hand on what is mine?"

The breath leaves you in a punch. You're cold with sweat, but something tugs at your gut. Something frightening. Something that tells you to stay hidden.

"I am worse," Jason says. "Because a good man would show you mercy and let you be hanged for your crimes."

"That fuckin' bitch deserved it," the intruder spits.

Here, Jason loses his composure. Here, he twists his sword.

"I will tear you apart," he says, voice a snarl.

And Jason does exactly that. It's bloody and gory. You feel sick a few times. You can't see everything in the fractured light, but you can hear it all. Bones crack, the man screams, but Jason doesn't relent. He drives his sword deeper and deeper. Blood gurgles from the attacker's mouth.

You watch on, feeling quite like you had the day you saw Jason fucking his fist.

The body drops with a thud as Jason lets him go. You imagine a sword slick with blood. You imagine Jason covered in it.

The realization is dizzying. You are an executioner, and Jason is your axe.

You don't know what you're more horrified by: the fact that it took you this long to look away or that you don't mind the stench of fresh blood.

Jason takes two steps and picks up the lantern. He sees you. He stops.

"He's dead," you say dumbly.

Jason swallows, face otherwise blank. "You... you were not meant to see that."

"I didn't." But you did.

He knows you did.

"Roy should've taken you inside," Jason says.

You can't understand why shame draws the lines of his shoulders. 

"I didn't want to go inside," you say. "Not without you."

Jason inhales sharply. Then he looks away. "I shouldn't have... I pray that you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't."

Jason is covered in more than a little blood. Red spatters his cheek, though it looks black in the shadows.

He's slick with blood. You wonder if he'll bathe in the river. If you might help him.

You step forward. Jason is still. He watches you steadily as you approach.

You pull down the sleeve of your nightgown and reach for Jason's face. He flinches. You hush him.

"It's alright," you whisper.

He lets you touch his cheek. His eyelids flutter as you wipe the blood from his face. Then you hold his cheeks with both hands. Jason shudders.

"You can touch me," you say.

Immediately, Jason shakes his head, hands curling into fists at his side.

"No. I'm unclean. You shouldn’t touch me either, you’ll—you’re—”

"I don't mind." Your thumbs trace the contours of his face for a moment, feeling the hard line of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his full bottom lip. He lets you, eyes locked on yours.

Then, you pull up your nightgown, revealing your bare thighs, your underwear, your belly. Jason’s chest heaves. He immediately looks away. But you’re quick. You guide Jason's hand with your other hand. He stains your flesh with blood. You picture the sticky, bloody handprint he'll leave on your waist. That frightening feeling returns. 

Jason's hand is hot on your skin. He exhales shakily. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, cupping your waist. His fingers gently knead your skin as if he's testing if you're real. It tickles, but you don't move, fearing Jason will pull away at the slightest jerk.

"Don't sleep in the shed anymore," you say.

"Alright."

"Eat supper with me."

"Okay."

You draw Jason closer. Blood smears your clothed chest. His thighs warm your exposed legs. You will not let him punish himself in the morning. You will sleep on his chest if that’s what it takes. Only you are allowed to draw blood from him. 

"Are you mine?" you ask.

Jason's answer is instant.

"Yes."

[nightingale-prompts]

Talking to Batboy

First | Previous | Next

"Do you want to talk?" Dick asked sitting at the end of the bed.

Danny had been spared from the memories of that night but it had done nothing for his mental health. He was handling the loss of his wings well at least. Although losing a limb was still not a good feeling.

But that isn't the problem. None of this is the problem.

The problem was…

"Why me?" Danny asked tucking his legs to his chest.

"What?" Dick asked confused.

"What made me so special? Was it just my wings?" Danny narrowed his eyes.

"I...don't know. I just wanted-"

"That's not an answer! It was the wings, wasn't y You don't care about me! Of course, it was the wings!" Danny jumped off the bed and moved towards the door.

"Danny, is it so hard to believe that I wanted you because I cared?" Dick grabbed Danny's hand pulling him back.

"Yes! This city is full of poor unfortunate orphans. The only reason I was special was because of how I looked. But that's not real! That's not what I am." Danny shifted, and his real appearance began shifting across his body. "BUT YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE THE REAL ME!

Danny started to hyperventilate as he pulled back until he hit the wall. He slumped to the floor.

"I don't belong here. I should never have come here." Danny said to himself.

Dick keeled down and spoke gently.

"Your right you did stand out. I thought you were a lot like me. Optimistic and energetic despite the pain you were in. I didn't know what you were and I still don't understand. I wish you'd just tell me so I can understand. I want to help you."

Danny scoffed.

"You want to help me?" He laughed taking off his shirt and letting his glamour fall showing the scars he had.

The lightning scar that ripped through his arm and chest all the way to his eye. The burn marks and blast marks littered his body. The unmistakable dissection scar.

In that moment Dick knew that he hadn't seen himself in Danny. He had seen Jason. Sweet little Jason who has a light in the night. His little brother who he hadn't treasured enough until he was gone.

"Danny…you.." He was lost for words.

"You don't want me. Even my parents didn't want me. Honestly, you are all the same. You don't see me as what I am. Just a monster. Not human." Danny grumbled.

"That's not true Danny! Stop trying to put words in my mouth! I love you, is that so hard to believe?" Dick held Danny's shoulders as the teen pushed him back.

"Yes! Now get away!" Danny phased through Dick and flew away to escape. He couldn't handle this right now.

Wings or no wings he could still fly. That was comfort enough.

He flew as quickly as he could only to end up in Crime Alley again. As eerie as it was it gave him a place to collect his thoughts.

Unfortunately, he forgot it was home to the relevant Red Hood or Jason. His unwitting family member. That was no longer a secret especially when Jason recognized him as Phantom. At least he didn't tell everyone.

He didn't want them to know the truth. He did want to be an undead monster to them. He could go through that again. He refused. He'd rather return to the realms before suffering that again.

When Jason came (probably sensing his presence) Danny felt overcome with emotions. He hugged Jason feeling a little less alone.

"Hey, Spooks. What are you doing out here?" Jason asked letting the boy hug him.

"I…picked a fight with Dick," Danny said embarrassed with how he acted…again.

"First time?" Jason laughed "Trust me as his kid you probably will do that plenty more times. I know I still do with my ol'man. But Dick isn't like Bats. He loves differently. Although they both care too much, Dick is good at communication. Just talk to him."

Jason seemed more jovial now. Less pained. Apparently, now that the Joker was dead and gone a weight was taken off him. That and the tainted ectoplasm being eaten by Danny.

"I don't think I can," Danny said, what he wanted to do was run away. He may have gotten too deep into this. Maybe returning was the best thing.

"Then you sure chose the worst possible guardian. He's gonna keep looking. He did not going to stop either. So sucking it up and facing him is the best possible route." Jason laughed as Danny sighed. "You can't keep running."

"I can try." Danny thought bitterly. He could just rip open a portal and disappear. No one would know.

"Red Hood. Danny." A third voice entered the conversation.

"Batman." Jason scowled.

"I was sent to look for Danny." He said simply. "He should be focused on healing."

"How'd you find me this fast?" Danny gripped rolling his eyes.

"I had a feeling. Come along, Danny. " Batman reached out to Danny.

Reluctantly Danny waved goodbye to Red Hood and took Bruce's hand.

Bruce didn't take Danny home immediately. Instead, they climbed one of the tallest buildings in Gotham. Danny stared up at the sky. The stars were blocked out by the light and smoke. He always hated that part of Gotham.

"Danny look down," Batman said urging Danny to sit with him.

Looking down the city shined. Each light is like a blazing star.

"Each light you see is a person. Despite how difficult life is here they still choose to live their lives." Batman said. "They don't know if they will be safe but they still strive for more."

"Do they really think that or do you just hope they do?" Danny barked clinically.

"Both. It wasn't always like this. The city used to be dead silent before I became Batman. Now they have the strength to fight back even in the night. That's why I do this. So Danny, why do you fight?"

Danny was never really asked this. He had a reason right? A good one.

"I wanted to protect my hometown." Yet he no longer needed to do that. He controlled the ghosts now. They lived a peaceful life now.

"Then we have something in common. I want to protect Gotham. But I'm not perfect. The world we live in is unpredictable with forces we don't understand. I thought if I understood something then I'd have no reason to fear. That suspension was leveled at you because I thought it would protect you and the world. However, I only made you afraid."Batman apologized. He wasn't very good at that but he was genuine.

"What if I'm a threat? What if I'm dangerous and hurt people? People you care about." Danny wanted to aim that barb at Bruce but it actually hit him. He was scared that one day he would become that other version of himself.

"Then I want to help you because I know you don't want to hurt people. Trust me there isn't a metahuman on earth that doesn't share your fear." Batman put a hand on Danny's shoulder.

It felt surprisingly warm against his cold skin.

"I want to talk to Nightwing. I think. I think I'm ready to talk." Danny was finally ready to tell him the truth. Even if it scared him to death.

[cherrycolored-punk]

NHTK - Chapter Two

Masterlist

pairing: brother's best friend! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, reader is Reefer Rick’s little sister.

w/c: 6.2k

author's note: this is a repost from my previous blog @strangemagicc but somewhat re-written, some of their story has changed. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please reblog if you did, support is always appreciated!

warnings: angst, mention of cheating (technically not reader), mention of anxiety and a past car accident, brief mention of money issues for reader

Then:

“Fucking shit!” 

Eddie can hear the worry in your voice as he rounds the corner. The sound of his heavy boots against the tiled floor catches your attention.

The fear is vibrant in your eyes when you turn to him, a quiet cry for help and he can’t help but chuckle at the scene. At the state of your brows pushed together, face twisted in horror.

He looks over your shoulder, noticing that the popcorn is overfilled and smoke is billowing from behind the glass doors of the machine. Charred pieces of popcorn fall into the vat; the burnt smell wafts around you and fills the air.

“Way to go, Little Lipton,” he laughs and moves around you to turn off the machine.

“Shut up,” but the words come out like a whine.

You’re already annoyed that he caught you creating a mess and even more peeved that he’s looking at you with that cocky smirk of his.

“Alright,” he sighs heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit, so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilts his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leans against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Out of commission?” Your voice raises an octave, face twisting in horror as his words make alarms blare in your skull.

“Yeah,” he chuckles as though his next words are obvious.

“We have to clean this one before we use it, or all the other batches are going to taste like shit, and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”

“He’s going to kill me,” you groan and drop your head back.

He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. Mark wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.

“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugs with a crooked grin, a glint of amusement in his chestnut eyes as he stares down at you.

“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly look up at him and swat at his arm. 

His smile grows wider at your display.

“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighs dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”

Reflexively he moves out of arm’s reach before you can do any serious damage.

Eddie enjoys the way your lower lip juts out, how your forehead creases between your eyebrows when you are mad, and fuck, were you pissed.

It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.

Or his form of training, which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it, but this is what works.”

The problem was that you’d been distracted.

It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. How he’d look at you when you caught onto something quick or the reassurance he’d quickly give when you didn’t. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the windows and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.

You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung to life when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.

It made it hard to listen and remember the instructions he told you, like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.

He never expounded on the or else, but negative consequences were heavily implied.

“You’re such a jerk,” you rebut, but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.

“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he begins cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.

Your heart is still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.

“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimick him and begin helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.

Eddie watches you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze is lit with mischief as you tease him, and he can't help but smile to himself.

“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellows as he came down the stairs from his office. He eyes the mess you made with a stern, critical eye that shifts over the concession stand and back to you.

The air still smells of burnt kernels and puffs of smoke still swirl in the air - highlighted by the afternoon sun peeking through the windows.

You can’t help the way you shrink under his scrutiny.

“I know this may just be some summer job to you, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week, I will make sure this one fires you.” He points a fat finger at Eddie before turning his attention to him. 

Munson’s face has gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tense.

“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjects.

“Clean it up,” Huntzberger orders before disappearing into the ticket booth.

“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You question more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tense as you tie the trash bag containing the burnt kernels before pulling it from the bin.

“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudges you with a wink, wiping the inside of the soiled popcorn machine with a clean rag.

“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggle and walk towards the exit doors that lead to the alley behind the cinema.

Eddie drops the rag into the popcorn machine, following you outside.

The summer air is suffocating with its humidity—the sharp stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters causing you to wince as you approach the dumpster.

“Don’t do that. It’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grows wider as he walks in step with you.

He was all self-deprecation all the time, and you begin to wonder how much of it he really believes—the thought causing a pang of sadness to twist in your gut.

You lift the bag over your head, but he stops you, taking it from your grasp and hoisting it into the metal canister.

“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you begin, brushing your hands off and looking up at him. Eyes nearly squinted closed from the intensity of the sun.

“What’s not?” He questions, leaning against a brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.

You stand in front of him, toe to toe, trying to hide the way your gaze dances over his face. Tracing the freckles that line his nose and admiring the dimple pushed into his cheek as he smiles at you.

And fuck, he’s caught you staring.

“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you clear your throat, “you have lots of talents-“

“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupts, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” but the words sound more affectionate than irked.

“I’m being serious,” you begin again, “I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”

You shrug, doing your best to be nonchalant.

“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continue with a small laugh.

“For all things useless,” he corrects. 

You poke his side causing him to flinch away from your touch, swatting your hand in the process.

“I mean it!” You insist, gaze holding his. 

It’s the exact look you get when you’re excited about something, and Eddie chuckles, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you’re giving him.

“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he jokes, but you continue to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.

“Is it working?” You retort, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.

For a brief moment, you see his confident facade falter - his eyes darting between your eyes and the plush of your lips as he swallows hard. 

But in an instant, it returns.

“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winks and turns back to the building.

There it was again.

Your heart stops, skips, and starts again as you will your legs to move. You watch his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“You coming?” He doesn’t stop walking, and you take wide steps to catch up with him.

Before you walk back through the door, you grab his arm and turn him to face you. He’d successfully evaded your compliments before, but you needed him to know it wasn’t empty praise.

“I meant what I said, Eds.” 

He looks at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow but doesn’t verbalize his confusion so you continue on.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you squeeze his arm softly so he can feel your sincerity.

When he doesn’t say anything, you release his appendage with an uncertain grin and pull open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.

Eddie watches your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.

The two of you fall into an easy silence as you work. 

You wipe the counters and finish cleaning the popcorn machine, carefully following Eddie’s instructions while he sets up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things are organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.

He looks at you every so often, and you try to hide the way his subtle attention affects you, keeping your head down and focused on counting your till. Having to recount when you catch him looking again.

But finally, you’re ready for the day; doors unlocked, and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A small line of moviegoers already stood in front of the ticket booth.

The two of you rest your backs against the counter, waiting for the first customer to approach, when Eddie leans over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.

The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

—————

Now:

Eddie clamors into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudges to the kitchen and swings open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that is nearly gone.

He spreads out on the couch and chugs one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Uncle Wayne had been gone for nearly a week on another cross-country drop-off, and Eddie usually enjoyed having the place to himself, but now the silence engulfed him.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly as the seconds pass, his thoughts clashing into each other.

—————

Then:

Eddie tries to keep his attention on the TV as you enter the room for the fourth time that afternoon.

Rick shakes his head, taking a quick absent look in your direction.

“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughs as you disappear back into your room.

Eddie scoffs at his words, but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.

“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudges his arm against Rick’s, eyes still trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target, but his mind wanders behind the wood of your door. Wondering what you’re doing and if Rick might actually be right.

“Like I’d let you,” he chuckles, breaking Munson’s train of thought.

Eddie’s brow twists in confusion, and it isn’t lost on Rick. 

He turns to his friend with a flippant roll of his eyes and a gentle nudge against the metalhead’s shoulder. Prepared to emphasize his point.

“Oh, come on. I love you, man, but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”

Eddie chuckles along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words.

He knows all the things that people don’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned, but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.

He can’t help but wonder if you see him that way, a loser with no future—just the town freak. 

And in that moment, he promises himself that he’ll never put himself out there to know.

—————

Now:

Eddie presses his palm to his eye, a headache building behind his orbital bone. 

Rick’s words reverberate off his skull as he grapples with the feelings he’s long ignored. The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.

Eddie can still feel your lips against his, the electricity still humming in his veins, and fuck, he wishes it had lasted a moment longer.

He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winces every time he thinks about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

Eddie knows that if it went further, you’d only regret it once the sun rose and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.

Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.

He isn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knows that much, has been told that much, and already accepts it as truth.

When girls got with Eddie, they expected fun. They expected drugs and a quick hookup.

Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him in town, and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.

God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.

Eddie decides that it’s better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he feels. To spare himself from the regret he knew you’d eventually feel.

—————

Now:

It’s a rainy day, and fat drops bounce off the windshield as your father drives. Faster than usual. 

In a hurry but you don’t know where to.

The air conditioner is off, creating a layer of condensation on the windows. Making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.

You draw butterflies on the glass, a small finger tracing against the cool pane. Grinning wide as your drawings expose the gray sky and the way the dark clouds roll quickly against its expanse.

The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever plays over the radio, but your parent’s voices are louder.

Angrier.

Your mom sniffles, and you lean up in your seat to see if she’s crying, but the length of her hair conceals her face from view.

“Mama,” you push against her seat with your sneakered foot, but she doesn’t respond.

“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insists, tugging at your father’s arm, but he shoves her off. 

You unbuckle your seat belt and pull at your mom’s shirt, trying to get her attention.

“Mom.”

But your voice is cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reaches for the dial turning it until your ears ring.

You shrink back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you look between the two of them. No longer able to understand what your parents are saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces making you more confused.

Your mother pulls on your dad’s arm again, and he shoves her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he speaks, but you still can’t understand what he’s saying.

Everything else becomes a blur of lights and pain—endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.

Your cries wrack your body but are silent to your own ears. The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.

Then darkness.

-

You wake up in a cold sweat, wild gaze darting around the room as sit up in bed. The fabric of your tank top clings to your sweat-slicked skin uncomfortably, and your head pounds behind your eyes. A rhythm that matches the way your heart is beating against your ribcage. 

Bile rises in your throat, the nausea that always accompanies the nightmare.

The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.

You press a palm into the skin of your thigh, massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that’s a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh. It aches like it just happened, like you are ten years old and trapped in that car again. 

You groan uncomfortably and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to the present. Trying to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast. The soft song of the birds outside of your window.

Slowly you become grounded, heart settling into a steady rhythm, and open your eyes.

Sunlight streams through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues creating a soft glow along your pale blue walls and highlighting the dust that dances through the air.

You throw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. 

Images of the night before flooding your vision.

Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.

The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.

You press your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you see swirls. Until you are reminded of Eddie’s stunned face when you sat in his lap, hands pressed to his chest. The way he bucked into you.

The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

“Fucking idiot,” you groan with embarrassment and pull your pillow over your face, letting out a muffled scream.

You stay concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Definitely not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.

You flail your body around as another wave of embarrassment rolls through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.

The incessant buzz of your phone catches your attention, and you glance over at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you can see without grabbing it.

Hesitantly you reach for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.

11:55PM

Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?

12:00AM

Simon: helloooo?

12:23AM

Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?

Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once

1:03AM

Simon: so you did show up

Simon: you left with MUNSON?

2:30AM

Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?

2:33AM

Rachel: (Y/N)?

Rachel: Simon is really worried about you

7:49AM

Simon: We need to talk

8:36AM

Rachel: Text me when you’re awake

You swallow the emotion that arose and wonder if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.

Were they even capable of that?

Slowly you push the sheets off the bed and force your legs over the edge one by one until your feet are planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your purple comforter.

You will yourself off the mattress and clamor out your bedroom door. Mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.

The throb of your head returns as the smell of burnt toast grows stronger, and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?

You can only assume the assault on your nose is your brother’s fault.

“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complain loudly as you stumble into the kitchen and throw open a cabinet door, reaching for a glass on the top shelf.

You turn towards the sink, blissfully unaware that there is a set of eyes on you. Watching as you whistle and fill your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you can hear.

Eddie watches you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.

He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.

His eyes trace over your legs, stalling on the swell of your ass. He watches as you lean over the counter to get a better view of the lake from the window just above your sink. The angle exposing a glimpse of your butt cheeks.

It’s like you know what you’re doing, know that he’s watching and driving him just a little bit insane.

He swallows harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he’d planned.

“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greets, his words dripping with their usual sarcasm.

You turn around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging from your skull when you notice Eddie, and you grip your cup harder.

Had he been sitting there the whole time?

He quietly nibbles on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.

The embarrassment you felt before flares awake, and god, you want to crawl into a hole and disappear entirely.

Blinking rapidly, you shift your gaze back to Rick.

He sits at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.

“Have work today?”

“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrug, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.

You sip your water, focusing on how its cool temperature slides across your tongue—trying to focus on anything else.

“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”

You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time just being a passenger. 

“Can’t mom take me?” you question, but Rick’s head is already shaking as you get the words out.

“The transmission is acting up in her car. Need to look at it,” he states around a mouth full of food.

“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and fold your arms over your chest.

“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestures to his head and shovels more food into his mouth.

“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”

Your shoulders sag—the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.

“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggest with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. 

The walk isn’t that long.

“Your uber is already here,” he points his head towards Eddie, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at his suggestion.

Not happening.

“I can just walk,” you reaffirm quickly, causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.

“Why are you acting like such a brat?” 

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.” You unfold your arms and gestured absently towards him.

It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.

“He’s not, stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” you scoff, voice rising slightly and definitely being weird.

“Besides, I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. 

Rick doesn’t need to know that you aren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.

Eddie’s elbow settles against the wooden dining table as he watches you and the way you so easily lie to your brother.

“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother holds out a hand to get you to shut up and chugs his orange juice. 

You reach for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick grabs your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turns to you—his face twists in disgust when he notices what you’re wearing for the first time.

“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wipes his mouth and waves a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own lame joke before biting into the bacon that you tried to steal.

Eddie chuckles along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink. His faux laugh disappears when he notices you sneering in his direction.

“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice drips with sarcasm as you roll your eyes, taking quick steps back down the hall and to your room.

You press your back against the wooden door, a mix of anger and annoyance filling your chest. Overtaking any embarrassment you previously felt.

No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.

—————

What you didn’t plan on was for it to start raining ten minutes in. 

Large drops had fallen from the sky in quick succession, dark clouds covering the warmth of the sun and creating a chill in the fall air. One of Indiana’s infamous sporadic showers.

The maple leaves are already starting to turn yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smells of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.

Your feet trudge through the mud, splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. The road feels longer in the bad weather.

The white of your assistant manager shirt clings to your skin, revealing the pink of your bra, and you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to conceal it.

There’s a small part of you that wishes you had just taken the ride from Eddie, but there’s a bigger part, the more prideful one, that is glad you hadn’t.

Not after the way he’d laughed at you, chuckled at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.

To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like the fabric of your shirt.

In the distance, you can hear a car approaching, and you move further into the dirt to avoid being hit. 

Hoping it isn’t a creep or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.

But it’s worse.

It’s Eddie.

Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.

“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He questions, although he already knows the answer.

“Go away, Munson.”

You don’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Simon a no-show, huh?”

You click your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.

“Looks like it.”

His shoulders drop as you continue to ignore him, and he decides to appeal to your sensible side instead.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“So?”

And why did he think you could be sensible?

He groans and speeds up a little, parking the car just before you to block your path. You stop in your tracks, listening as he climbs out of the driver’s seat and rounds the car.

“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questions as he trudges toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild and starting to cling to his face when he looks at you.

“Do what?” You give him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically. 

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Just get in the fucking car,” he states through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice drops low, mocking Rick’s tone. 

You drop your smile, gaze a little cold as it meets his, and push past him to continue your walk to work.

He throws his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He turns to you, watching as you get a little further way from him.

“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turn around and begin to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. 

A little tired, a little defeated, and you stop beside his van waiting for his answer - concealed from the rest of the road.

“Laughing at you,” his voice is earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”

You nod, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he’d pushed you away from him.

Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.

“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You question, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approaches.

He swallows roughly and debates whether he should be honest. 

“I’m,” he pauses and sighs heavily, “I’m not sorry about that.”

You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance doesn’t affect you the way that it did. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turn back around, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.

“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”

His hand is warm against your arm as he spins you around to look at him.

Your shoes slide against the wet earth from the force, and it is for a brief moment that you see him before you crash into the soft mud.

“Fuck-“ your curses are synchronized as you fall and pull him atop you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.

Eddie’s knee is slotted between your legs as he lifts his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you begin to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.

You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt now painted brown. Ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair is a mess of dirt that clings to your face.

Eddie is nearly devoid of any filth. The only evidence he’d fallen is the mud that soaks through the pants of his jeans. 

And it’s a little bit annoying how he isn’t as muddy as you.

Slowly you reach your finger up and slide it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows marry at your actions, the way his jaw juts to this side and he shakes his head.

“You brat,” he lifts a hand and attempts to copy your actions as you try to wiggle away. His free hand stills you, holding you by the waist, as he drags the other across your cheek.

His playful smile mirrors yours.

“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone doesn’t match the light in your eyes.

“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”

His eyes roam your body, noticing the way your nipples are pebbled against the pink lace of your bra, easy to see through the sheer fabric of your shirt. The way your jeans hug the flare of your hips as you squirm beneath him.

Your breath hitches as you watch the way his gaze dances over your frame, chest rising and falling at a quick pace that isn’t lost on Eddie.

“How much time do you have before work?” His voice is a little gruff, affected, and it takes a moment for you to form a coherent thought.

You blink rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently, and clear your throat.

He lifts off of you and reaches a hand to help you up, but you pull him down into the mud beside you.

“You little shit!” Eddie looks at himself, the mud that clings to his jacket and jeans.

“Oops,” you shrug and lean out of his way as he throws mud at you.

“I have like two hours,” you laugh, looking at him completely amused.

“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lays there defeated, chuckle matching yours.

“I don’t know, it was just in case-“

“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”

“Shut up,” you shove his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.

Eddie gasps at the same time you do, realization dawning as he tackles you back into the mud.

It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you try to wiggle away from him.

Your giggles fill the air, and you push at his chest.

“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears spring in your eyes as you push against his chest once more, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.

“Say please,” he insists, and you shake your head, hands gripping his shirt.

For a moment, he stops, fingers stilling at your sides and he smiles at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer, and your smile falters briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.

“You don’t regret it?” He questions, needing to hear it again. His breath fanning against your face.

You shake your head, already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted. 

Eddie leans closer, his lips a whisper above your own. Shaky breaths mixing with yours.

Your heart skips as you anticipate the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie pulls away, slowly. Hesitantly.

“Think we should get you back home,” he looks down at your dirtied clothes and chuckles, face hovering above yours. You try to hide your disappointment as you nod in agreement.

He pushes himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.

Your palm slides against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand, and he pulls you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settle on your waist.

His nose traces yours as his fingers dig into your hips, and he swallows hard.

The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipping away.

You tilt your face and run a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Thumb lazing against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.

“Fuck it,” Eddie breathes, and his lips push against yours.

The press of them makes you gasp, they’re just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.

His tongue presses at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you open for him.

He tastes sweet like spearmint, and you hum.

Exhilaration thrums through you, and you pull him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.

Chest to chest.

Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace, and you want the moment to stretch on.

For the kiss to never end.

Thunder cracks in the air and the two of you pull apart, looking up at the darkened sky just as the rain begins to fall again.

Eddie looks back at you, his dimpled grin wide as the first drop hits his cheek, and you yelp as another drop cascades down your face.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melt into his touch.

“Will you please get in the fucking car now?” 

You nod rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.

-

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[mogamuncher]

Heeey I'm back! It's finally time for the full Cakeverse analysis gang!

Ok, so, for a refresher:

There's the Forks, the Cakes and the Plates (normal people), and it goes like this:

Plates are just normal people, the majority of the world population, nothing new here.

Forks: Can't taste and sometimes can't smell either, sometimes they used be able to taste but lost it with age; either way, they can only ever taste cakes.

Cakes: Basically normal people except that they're delicious, everything from them (flesh, tears, saliva, etc) tastes like cake (or other foods if you want). You can't tell who's a cake or not unless you're a Fork that's tasting them in some way.

Now, I have to add some stuff that's really interesting and that the og author said, that we'll be getting into today.

• Forks go absolutely bat shit insane when they taste the Cakes most of the time, that can lead to a lot of things, cannibalism, sex, or (if you're cultured) both.

• Both Cakes and Forks suffer from their own societal plights. Cakes die a lot, and Forks when discovered are instantly pinned as murderers, criminals and perverts, even if they haven't done anything wrong yet.

• Cakes can derail a Fork's entire life, and Forks are like sin and temptation to Cakes.

Now, I want to talk about these because they absolutely fucking vexed me and now I want to make this all of y'all's problem.

「The First Taste」

It's essentially a common rule as said by the author that the Forks go insane after feeling the taste of a Cake, now, let's talk about: Why?

See, Cakeverse is technically an Au based from the likes of Omegaverse, which you can see by the structure being similar to Alpha/Beta/Omega with the three types of people out there. But, in ABO the Alphas going insane is due to a specific event, heats, which are there specifically for reproduction and are said to bring out animal instincts out of people's control, while Forks are based on simply taste, food, and not something as biological.

Of course it's up to the individual writer to an extent, but my interpretation of why Forks lose it when they taste Cakes is more psychological when compared to Alphas in the Omegaverse.

Imagine that you are completely unable to see color, never once have you seen one, you grew up hearing all about how wonderful colors are, you saw others compliment the colors of several works of art, you heard all about the colors of the world around you, but all that you see is beige and grey. Now, imagine that one day you bump into someone, and suddenly you're able to see all the colors, for the first time ever in your life, you can finally experience blue skies and green grass, you can see the same way the rest of the world sees, something that was fundamentally missing from you is finally gifted to you by this stranger on a silver tray.

You're finally complete.

That's the reality of what Forks go through, years of eating tasteless food, seeing people enjoy food wholeheartedly and rant about the tastes, hearing about the differences between expensive food and cheap food, and then suddenly finally tasting cake. Of course they go insane and fixate on it, it's like the final puzzle piece finally sliding into place, something that they've been missing this whole time being manifested with only a taste.

Before, eating was a chore, something simply to survive there was no joy in it, no fun to be found in desserts or snacks, but with only a single kiss the Fork finally feels what it is like to crave food, to want food for the taste.

Cakeverse in nature is oddly psychological, playing with the concept of taking away something extremely core to the human experience, taste. It's inherent and everyone has it, you'd probably feel like a freak of nature if you didn't have something while everyone else has, right?

That's what Cakes bring Forks; normalcy, joy and purpose, it's basically like a shot of endorphins all at once straight into your bloodstream, there's a good chance it'd hit like a truck and fuck you up majorly.

Forks acting rashly probably looks different than when Alphas do the same, because the motive is inherently different, but the desperation is arguably more raw.

A lot can be written on what that reaction would be:

Immediately trying to taste the Cake (kissing, licking, biting), trying to play cool only to strike later (potential kidnapping, manipulation, planning and scheming in general), the Fork can try to resist temptation or maybe the Cake can notice the extreme reaction and run away, maybe the Cake can instigate and bait the Fork to take a bite.

It could lead to fluff, to relationships starting, relationships ending, it could smut, it could be gory cannibalism, hell, it could be both.

Either way, the sheer amount of character study that could be made out of this tidbit alone is insane, and the story concepts don't stop there!

「We Do, In Fact, Live In a Society」

Cakes don't know who they are until it's too late, but I can imagine that in society they'd be treated with a lot of extra care if they are known beforehand, as they are constantly in risk of dying.

Imagine that they'd also be majorly babyfied, the "nooo poor babies that can't do anything wrong, poor helpless and weak Cakes, they clearly can't take care of themselves, they're so vulnerable, don't worry I'll speak for you to protect your honor" would be insane. Any Cake that consensually and willingly gets with a Fork will be doubted if they truly wanted to do it, think nosy people pulling them aside to ask if they're ok and pressing to see if they're abused, think people immediately thinking that Cakes can't consent to anything with a Fork on principle despite them being grown adults.

Online discourse would definitely have people saying "Cakes are minor coded" or some shit, mark my words.

While Forks would be instantly persecuted for everything. Because of something they didn't choose, that was inherited at birth, they now are fully seem as murderers, kidnappers, rapists and just the lowest of the low. People will gossip, people will get defensive, people will cower any time you slightly raise your voice, you're seen as a predator, treated no different than a wild bear. To society at large, you're an unruly dog, and all eyes will be on you forever, watching, waiting for the day that you take a bite.

In a sense, it's almost like any Forks that do commit crimes instantly have a justification to do so, it's expected, really, you're a Fork, if course you'd snap one day. It's both maligned and normalized, everyone expects it and it almost gives Forks a reason to do so. Forever a self fulfilling prophecy.

Now I'm sorry that I'll keep bringing the Omegaverse up, it's just that it's really handy for comparison, but I find it fascinating that in a way, the societal effects of this are a mish mesh of the societal views seen in ABO, but like, in a way that doesn't make me want to vomit.

Can I be so fr with you guys right now? I don't like the societal parts of the Omegaverse, ever since I was a kid in the early hay days of the internet, that always made me uncomfortable, and it's also a bit lazy in a way. The problems in society with the Omegaverse are basically just Sexism, it's misogyny with mpreg, and a lot of fics end up feeling like a Handmaiden's Tale with mpreg. Replace Alphas with men and Omegas with Women and you get the Omegaverse, though it gets a bit interesting since there technically is a built-in "fuck or die" and aphrodisiac system with heats/ruts, but very few writers do something interesting with it.

My problem is that it's always either uncomfortable or outright boring, very little fics do it well and most of the time authors simply choose to side step it altogether, which I completely understand and actually prefer at this point.

I bring all this up because Cakeverse actually brings a lot of interesting concepts up in it's consequences on the world at large, the nature of Forks and Cakes mirrors a lot of real life concepts, but leaves enough fantastical elements that there's still intrigue in what could be explored and seem from authors writing certain details of it.

Would there be Cake support groups? Would there be Fork rights activists? Would there be people who are both Forks and Cakes, like a hybrid type? What are different relationship types seen as in the eyes of society as a whole?

It's all so complicated and the problems are different between the both of them, also, they're evenly split, which is a breath of fresh air.

Now, it's time to get even deeper into this, what are exactly Forks and Cakes relationship with each other like?

「Would You Still Love Me If I Was Cake?」

According to the author, Cakes can derail a Fork's life and Forks are temptation to Cakes. Now, why is that?

Imagine you're a Fork, living your life trying to do what you can with what's been handed to you, probably being discriminated against if you haven't been able to hide it well, when suddenly you taste someone (kiss or by accident, like a shared water bottle), and next thing you know you lise your mind. Your entire world falls apart, thoughts of dreams, future, your own sense of morality, it all melts away like sugar in water because you just experienced heaven and now it's all you can think about.

Someone completely normal beforehand, suddenly driven to obsession with just one moment, an entire life detailed into the unknown because they just had a taste of cake, thoughts being all about one person and their taste, the inability to stop even you're desperate to do so. It's madness, and almost like a tragedy, doomed by their own personal narrative of Fork meets Cake, the Forks turns into a starving beast whether they want to or not.

But Cakes? Imagine you have someone you love, and they want you so badly it drives you mad, imagine kissing the same lips that want to be stained with your taste, imagine putting yourself in the way of jaws that any of these days can close down on you and swallow you whole. You're constantly in contact with someone that could just straight up eat you, consume you whole and leave nothing behind, but your heart aches for them, you present yourself in a silver platter again and again.

Maybe you want to be eaten, to be consumed. Maybe you like being wanted, maybe you enjoy providing something to to others, you made them so happy that it doesn't even matter to you that they are taking chunks out of you, you'll gladly let yourself be torn apart if it means someone else is satisfied.

It's all about the usage of "Cannibalism as a Metaphor for Love™", it's all about loving someone but constantly wanting to eat them into non-existence, it's about to struggle between your brain heart and stomach.

It's about having your cake and eating it too.

The themes, the metaphors, the opportunities are endless and frankly I'm driving myself insane just imagining all of it, the angst also would be utterly fucking insane, imagine you live someone and you eat them, wouldn't you be upset? You loved them and you killed them yourself, with your own hands, their taste is on your lips and you locked your plate clean.

I'm screaming and crying and throwing up as we speak, the number of things you can do here are endless, soooo. . . Let's talk about some of my ideas!

「All My Fanfiction Titles Are Just Songs」

Last post I basically tagged a bunch of fandoms that I wish would use this trope (I'll also be doing that with this post), so now I'm going to showing some of the ideas I had for this AU that I might or might not write in the future, all of which you guys are totally free to use as prompts as well (just tag me on them lmao)

So, going ship by ship:

「Loveit」: Dead Plate fanfic, Vincent x Rody, Fork!Vincent and Cake!Rody. I imagine that the moment Vincent finds out is during the Best Served Hot ending, after biting Rody's ear, his reaction would show instantly on his face and Rody would notice right away. After that it can lead to a lot of things, fighting, smut and cannibalism galore, their relationship would only get more complicated after such a discovery. Hell, you can even have Vincent find out earlier, if you truly want more juicy drama, maybe Vincent will attempt to make Rody into the meal instead of Mason this time? For funsies you could even reverse it, Rody as a Fork would be fascinating to see, him bonding with Vincent that he also can't taste anything, only for him to find out later that he can taste Vincent himself, holy shit the intrigue.

「Eat You」: Death Note, Lawlight, Fork!Light and Cake!L. Imagine Light both having to hide the fact that he's Kira, but also having to hide the fact that he's a Fork, imagine the never leaving stain that being a Fork would be on his own self-perception of perfection, imagine the so called god that punishes criminals also being considered a criminal by default in society's eyes if he's ever found out. Kira selling out his own kind because most criminals would likely be Forks (whether they were rightfully convicted or not), and then comes in L, a detective, a nuisance, Light's equal and a Cake. Maybe Lights would find that out later on, maybe while they're playing as friends in college or while chained together, and now L had effortlessly thrown another wrench in his life yet again by default, like they're meant to be opposed by fate itself, where Kira is a Fork L is a Cake. L would likely goad Light on, trying to bait Kira out, by any means necessary, even if it means being eaten.

「Eat You Piece by Piece」: Hear me out, Batjokes. Fork!Bruce having to hold himself back from breaking his own morals due to finding out Joker is a Cake, Fork!Joker only getting deeper into his Batman obsession after tasting a Cake!Batman, Both Forks bonded by not having taste, maybe both are Forks that differ on how they react to Cakes (Joker regularly eating them while Bruce retains his morals and chooses to not hurt them), maybe both Cakes that got here because they were almost eaten (different Batman and Joker origin stories?). The opportunities are all intriguing and promptly end in bloodshed, expect angst and discussions of what is moral, also just so much angst holy shit this shit hurts.

「I Eat Boys Up」: Dungeon Meshi, Labru, Fork!Laios and Cake!Labru. I'm thinking post canon by accident, maybe something like sharing utensils, and I'm going to be so fr with you right now, this story coming from me would be a lot of romanticism through food metaphors and unending smut, feral Laios is my equivalent of heroin and I could imagine him describing Kabru's taste in detail to him while eating him out. But if smut isn't your jam, exploring how Laios and his monster obsession, especially in the form of food, as someone who can't taste would be intriguing, in a story so closely tied to food, you have to wonder how it would all change if the main character couldn't even taste. Also, I doubt Kabru would take the knowledge of him being essentially prey well, so there's that bag of worms to go into if you want.

「Blame Gluttony」: This one is purely self indulgent but like, Re:Zero with any ship, Cake! Subaru and Fork!anyone else. Imagine Subaru's world doesn't have this Cakeverse nonsense at all, but the world he's transported to has, imagine how scary it would be that one loop he suddenly finds out that he's essentially universal prey here (maybe in the second loop with Elsa), imagine the weight of all the things that already are trying to kill him along with the fact that he's also got a new thing to worry about? Maybe instead of just the rabbit loop, there's now multiple loops where Subaru is eaten alive, maybe there's loops where his dear friends themselves are eating him. Can you imagine if Emilia was a Fork? If he found out after the kiss of death and she commented on the taste of his lips as he was dying, if it came up again after their kiss, Subaru having to tackle with his love and heart belonging to someone that would one day eat him whole. Imagine the witch not longer just wants to touch his heart or kiss him, but she also bites him when he tries to tell the secret. Imagine maybe Rem is also a Fork, imagine that his death by her hands also involved her tearing into him chunk by chunk. What if Otto was a Fork, what if Reinhard was one? Seriously all the opportunities are equally traumatizing and I'm living for it!

Honorable mentions include: Persona Shuake and Shuada (Fork!Protags and Cake!Detectives) for the optimal mutual murder extravaganza, Okegom DSP Satanivlis (Fork!Ivlis and Cake!Satanick) for a rare case of role swapping, South Park Kyman (any way works tbh) for mutually assured destruction, Slay the Princess (Fork!Princess and Cake!Birb) because themes, Soukouku (Fork!Dazai and Cake!Chuuya) for making canon even worse than it already is, frankly any investigrave game would be peak here, Hannigram for obvious reasons.

But that's all I have for now, so, what have we learned here?

We learned that: I'm mentally ill and you need to write about the Cakeverse NOW.

[cherubharrington]

Rafe x Latina!Popstar reader

{this doesn’t follow the show’s plot, I’m using labios mordidos by kali uchis and Karol g. https://youtu.be/RPcGDkjyhlI?si=8O1jssXsUqmSghhD, the performance this is based off of}

You’d lived in the outerbanks for most of your life. But you were dreaming for bigger. You didn’t hate it, you were a kook. But you never really felt like you belonged. You had dreams bigger than what outerbanks could hold. —Your parents could tell from when you were a child how talented you were. You had a voice and you knew how to dance. They put you through piano lessons, singing lessons, anything and everything they could think of. It eventually paid off.

“I don’t understand, I get it. It’s a big dream of yours. But don’t you get it. It’s going to take you away from me.” Your boyfriend Rafe said.

You looked at the ground;conflicted. “I know, Rafe. But I need to try. I need to see it through.”

It had led to the nastiest breakup you’ve ever had. Both of you sobbing, Rafe trying to hold onto you. Not letting you go. But it was final, your dreams were the love of your life. And you were going to chase them. Cause unfortunately, you loved music more than Rafe.

“La nena esta encendí’a, se me pega como un tattoo.” You sang into your mic, your body on the ground, your butt in the air. The dancers in front of you. “Yo te doy garantía que nadie estás dura que tú.”

Rafe watched on the tv; his jaw ticking.Sarah and Wheezie had decided to turn the tv on to this. To you performing for all your fans. You looked so beautiful, a ping of hurt spread through him like a wave. He missed you so much.

“Wow, I knew she would make it big.” Wheezie said, mesmerized.

“Right.” Sarah said, eating popcorn from her bowl. Rafe watched as two of the guy dancers lifted you into the air and helped you roll your body like a wave. His jaw ticked again. He was feeling all kinds of emotions.

“How does it feel, Rafe? Must sting.” Wheezie said, that did it for him.

“Shut up, Wheezie!”

“Jeez, calm down. I was only kidding.”

“She was joking, Rafe.” Sarah says.

He got up abruptly, knocking something over. “Rafe!” Then leaving the room. He went into his room, his head in his hands and tears following down his face. His leg shaking.

Once the show was over, you had immediately gone backstage. The adrenaline was running high and you felt good. This is all you’ve ever dreamt of. All you’ve ever wanted. A call comes from your phone.

It reads:

Sarah

You instantly pick it up.

“Hey.” You say, drinking a cold bottle of water.

“Hey! I’m so proud of you, me and Wheezie were just watching.” You can feel her smiling through the phone. You hear Wheezie cheering on the other end.

“Thank you! I feel like this is so surreal.” You pause. “Did- did uh Rafe see?”

“Uh—he did.”

“Y/n! We have to do interviews now! Wrap it up!” Your manager says, interrupting your conversation. You smile and nod.

“I have to go. Tell him I miss him.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You hang up and sigh. You know Sarah probably won’t and you understood why. You follow your manager out… your mind on Rafe, who’s miles away.

[cyberclouddream]

Enemies in the Natal Chart

Based on the 7th House and 12th house. Also recommend looking for your Progressed Chart. Recommend using whole sign house system.

[ 7th house ] people who are directly confrontational; you can see and engage with them in conflicts that are more apparent and often play out in public or work environments; like to criticize or hinder you openly

[ 12th house ] people who are covert and elusive; work behind the scenes, often using manipulation or indirect tactics; often use your emotions against you; can also be your own insecurities and fears

Note: the 12th house literally represents what’s hard to comprehend or perceive, so if it’s difficult for you to resonate or compare to your own life regarding the “hidden enemies” part…it’s probably because it’s obscure, besides other possible placement interactions. Also, when I use “relationships” it’s also referencing professional, platonic, and domestic.

Aries Rising [ 7H Libra - 12H Pisces ]

Open Enemies:

- people who seem charming and polite but are secretly playing both sides, like those who smile in your face then throw you under the bus to maintain their image

- those obsessed with being liked; may experience a lot of friendship betrayals

- people who screw you over legally or through shady deals; people who manipulate legal systems or twist arguments to their advantage

- those in romantic or professional relationships that may quietly undermine you because they’re jealous of your connections or accomplishments

- your fear of facing direct confrontation

- your indecisive nature; may spend so much time weighing options or trying to keep everyone happy that others may take advantage of this overthinking

- your obsession with being liked and keeping the peace that you may betray yourself

Hidden Enemies:

- those who play the victim card to manipulate you; may seem vulnerable or helpless but actually using your compassion to take advantage of you

- attract people who run from their problems and drag you into the chaos, like escapist and addicts

- spiritual con-artists, people who seem overly spiritual or “enlightened”; may use spiritual or moral superiority to manipulate you, masking their true intentions behind compassion or wisdom

- your own delusions or refusal to see reality clearly; may avoid hard truths about people or situations

- your tendency to let people walk all over you because you want to save everything; may give too much or take on other people’s problems

- you may deal with life challenge’s through addiction, daydreaming, or avoiding reality altogether

Taurus Rising [ 7H Scorpio - 12H Aries ]

Open Enemies:

- partners or competitors who constantly try to assert authority over you

- people who play on your emotional triggers or use shared resources, like money, possessions, or secrets, to control you

- people who openly resent your success, relationships, of influence

- physical/se*ual betrayals; people who’ve had access to your vulnerabilities and used them against you

- revenge seekers after conflict, because they’re not interested in letting things go easily

- your fear of vulnerability, like deep emotional connections or intimate exchanges

- your trust issues that can undermine relationships

- your obsession with control or possession, whether conscious of it or not

- your tendency for intense emotions that may scare off people or create unnecessary drama in relationships

Hidden Enemies:

- those who push you into impulsive actions, making you act without thinking

- people who create conflict about you to sabotage behind the scenes; secret competitors who size you up

- people who undermine you efforts in subtle, passive-aggressive ways, like rumors

- your lack of patience, which can make you act rashly

- your repressed anger that may burst in destructive ways

- your fear of failure which can make you avoid challenges altogether

- your cravings for independence, which may make you refuse help or isolate yourself

- your tendencies to unconsciously create conflict to avoid dealing with deeper emotional issues, as a form of escapism

Gemini Rising [ 7H Sagittarius - 12H Taurus ]

Open Enemies:

- people who are overly opinionated or think they know everything; may impose their beliefs on you or are quick to dismiss or challenge your perspective

- people who don’t like to be tied to down or restricted; they value freedom so much they oppose you if they feel like you’re limiting them in any way

- people who paint an unrealistic picture of things, like making promises they can’t keep or abandon you when things fall apart

- people who see black and white and attack your beliefs, especially when it comes to arguments about moral or ethical superiority

- people who don’t practice what they preach; people who abandon or betray you when something more exciting comes along

- your fear of commitment; tendencies to avoid settling down

- your tendencies to speak your mind without thinking of the consequences

- your arrogance and unwillingness to see other perspectives; you thinking you’re always right

- your tendencies to flee from conflicts or responsibilities in relationships or partnerships

Hidden Enemies:

- people who refuse to adapt or support growth, keeping you stuck in situations that no longer serve you

- people who secretly want what you have; may pretend to be supportive while subtly trying to undermine your financial or material stability

- people who encourage you to stay in your comfort zone, to convince you that “everything is fine as it is”

- people who are possessive, either of you or the resources you share; they don’t want to lose what they see as theirs, whether it’s your time, attention, or material wealth

- people who hoard resources or information and keep you in the dark; they may accumulate wealth, knowledge, or power but only reveal their intentions when it benefits them

- you may subconsciously resist change when it’s necessary, like clinging to old habits or relationships that prevent your growth

- your attachments to material comfort; you may prioritize security over progress

- your love for comfort and routine that can turn into laziness

- you may hold onto ideas,beliefs, or habits for too long, refusing to see when they’re not working for you

- your fear of losing control over your surroundings or possessions; feel the beed to hoard or hold onto things in a way that creates anxiety

Cancer Rising [ 7H Capricorn - 12H Gemini ]

Open Enemies

- people who are extremely ambitious, who are willing to go to any lengths to succeed and use you as a ladder, often in cold or calculated tactics

- people in positions of authority, like bosses, mentors, or even parents; may use their status or power to block your progress

- business-minded competitors who oppose you openly by dominating or take credit for your work

- people who oppose you if you challenge the status quo because they value structure c rules, and traditions; may use their influence to maintain control and resist change

- your fear of failure that make you overly obsessed with achieving things

- your tendencies to overwork, prioritizing career or ambitions over relationships

- your tendencies to be overly serious or emotionally detached

- your tendencies to try to dominate or micromanage others

- your expectations for others to meet your standards without compromise

Hidden Enemies

- people who are two-faced backstabbers, like spreading gossip or misinformation about you

- people who mess with you mind and make you doubt or second-guess yourself and your decisions

- people who constantly keep your busy or distracted c especially from what really matters to you; may be ones who get you caught up in trivial tasks or conversations often

- people who twist words or provide half-truths, and may deliberately mislead you with confusing, contradictory information

- your scattered thinking that might make it hard for you to focus on one goal or keep progress

- your tendencies to overthink and overanalyze everything; thinking too much without acting enough

- your fear of speaking up out of fearing judgment or causing conflict

- your self-deception; hiding your true desires or inner truths from your own self

Leo Rising [ 7H Aquarius - 12H Cancer ]

Open Enemies

- people who resist conformity or authority; those who don’t follow rules and openly challenge established systems, including in your relationships or partnerships

- people who are erratic and change their approach without warning, making it difficult to anticipate their next move; they keep you off balance in conflict

- people who are deeply committed to a cause or belief system that conflicts with yours

- people who use rational arguments or intellectual superiority to undermine you

- people who see you as outdated or resistant to change, and they openly oppose your attempts to keep anything the same

- your fear of losing independence; you may have conflicts over autonomy

- your preference to keep relationships more intellectual or detached

- your desire to stand out and be different; you may resist compromise or collaboration

- people who feel like you prioritize abstract ideals over real-life concerns or emotional interactions

- those who you see as limiting your freedom when they want to commit to you or want you to commit to something

Hidden Enemies

- people who use emotional manipulation against you; may subtly guilt-trip or play on your vulnerabilities

- people who are family or feel like family, but may undermine you emotionally or betray you from a place of intimacy

- people who smother you with kindness while undermining your independence or personal growth, keeping you emotionally dependent

- overprotective friends; people who believe they’re helping but in reality they’re holding you back from taking risks

- people who often come to you with their problems and expect you to constantly support them, which subtly drains your energy and leaves you emotionally depleted

- your tendencies to repress your emotions instead of expressing them, out of fear of vulnerability

- unresolved family issues, like past family dynamics or childhood wounds; may resurface in destructive ways

- your tendencies to cling to old relationships, memories, or situations, refusing to move on and embrace the present

- fear of emotional independence; your preference to remain in safe, familiar emotional territory rather than taking risks or making bold moves

Virgo Rising [ 7H Pisces - 12H Leo ]

Open Enemies:

- play the victim to gain sympathy and control because they want to make you feel guilty or responsible for their problems, whether at work or in relationships; may use your empathy against you

- those who thrive on disorganization or chaos; may create distractions or disruptions that impede your ability to perform effectively, while pretending to be supportive

- act vague or passive-aggressive to make it hard to see them as a direct threat

- those who struggle with addiction, escapism, or lack of boundaries

- people who are unreliable, chaotic, or difficult to deal with because they’re caught up in their own illusions

- you might deceive yourself relationships or refuse to see people for who they are

- your inadvertent victim mentality, which might invite people who perceive you as weak or manipulative based on the misinterpretations of your struggles

- your overwhelming compassion, which can lead to boundary issues, like being too accommodating or forgiving

Hidden Enemies:

- those who have inflated egos, want to be in the spotlight, or who resent your authority or visibility; undermine out of jealousy or envy because your success makes them feel small

- jealous peers who envy your confidence or charisma; may secretly wish for your downfall; may be cheerleaders who criticize you behind your back or undermine your creative endeavors

- people in positions of authority, like bosses, mentors, or people in positions of prominence; may seem charismatic on the surface but work against you in subtle, covert ways; see you as a threat to their influence or status; may undermine your confidence

- people who provide “constructive criticism” but actually delight in pointing out your flaws can be particularly dangerous, often exploiting your need for validation

- people who spread rumors or misinterpret your actions to create divisions, especially among friend or colleagues, which can make you question your standing in groups

- you refusing to acknowledge your flaws or ask for help when needed

- childhood wounds like not receiving the love or attention needed as a child growing up

- your need for validation; relying too heavily on other’s opinions can lead to self-doubt; feelings of inadequacy create a sense of paranoia and social anxiety

- your hidden need to control how others perceive you

Libra Rising [ 7H Aries - 12H Virgo ]

Open Enemies

- people who are blunt, combative and won’t hesitate to openly oppose or challenge you because they see you as competition

- people who lash out impulsively without thinking things through; expect explosive conflicts or heated arguments out of nowhere

- people who have short tempers and are quick to anger; they confront problems directly and forcefully, often escalating minor issues into full-blown battles; leave no room for negotiation

- people who prioritize their own needs over everyone else’s

- people who see relationships as battlefields and always try to one-up or dominate you in some way

- your constant need to be in charge

- your tendencies to be too aggressive or forceful in partnerships; others may feel overwhelmed or attacked by your assertiveness

- your impatience; you may demand instant results or immediate action without giving others time to respond or adjust

- your selfishness; your tendencies to be self-focused may make others see you as inconsiderate or overly competitive

- your tendencies to mask insecurities or admit when you’re wrong

Hidden Enemies

- people who criticize you subtly and constantly; they point out flaws and weaknesses, undermining your confidence and planting seeds of doubt

- people who quietly judge you for not being “perfect” by their standards

- people who may mess with your work, create tiny inconveniences, or spread subtle misinformation that can cause larger problems down the line

- people who downplay your ideas or efforts by pointing out practical “flaws”

- people who impact your health by slowly draining your energy or cause you stress

- your obsessive need for perfection; your fear of making mistakes or not being good enough

- your tendency to overthink details and situations to point of becoming paralyzed or indecisive

- your tendencies to get stuck in routine or habits that feel safe but are ultimately limiting; avoiding getting of of your comfort zone

Scorpio Rising [ 7H Taurus - 12H Libra ]

Open Enemies

- people who refuse to budge on their positions or perspectives; likely fight you through their persistence; long, drawn out conflicts

- may oppose you when it comes to issues involving resources or financial security; conflicts over money, property, or how material goods are shared

- people who resist anything that disturbs their sense of peace or stability; may oppose you if they feel that your actions threaten their routines or way of life

- people who indulge in excess, whether it’s food, wealth, or luxury; often try to make sure you don’t gain what they have

- people who see you as a threat to something or someone they “own”; can be territorial over relationships, positions, or material possessions

- your tendencies to refuse compromise

- your tendencies to prioritize wealth or resources over emotional connection

- your jealousy or possessiveness in relationships; focused on what you “own” or feel entitled to

- your tendencies to prioritize pleasure or comfort over relationship needs

Hidden Enemies

- people who appear charming but are secretly working against you; can have a polite facade as they try to subtly undermine your relationships or manipulate you

- people-pleasers; those who avoid addressing important issues or confront conflict directly

- people who never commit to a clear stand on things, keeping you in limbo with vague promises or half-hearted support

- people who present one face to you and another to others, trying to manipulate social dynamics

- your own indecision, your struggles to make firm choices and never committing to a clear direction

- your habit of putting others first and neglecting your own needs and desires

- your fear of confrontation, letting issues fester instead of addressing them

- your tendency to engage in relationships that are based on appearances rather than genuine connection

- your overdependence on others, becoming too reliant in others approval or decision-making

Sagittarius Rising [ 7H Gemini - 12H Scorpio ]

Open Enemies:

- people who use words as their primary weapon; they spread rumors, gossip, or misinformation, subtly undermining your reputation in social networks

- people who play both sides, often switching their allegiances or opinions to suit their personal gain

- people often try to engage in intellectual battles with you; may use clever arguments, half-truths, or outright manipulation to confuse you

- inconsistent rivals who oppose you one day and act friendly the next, keeping you guessing about their true intentions

- people who charm or persuade others through eloquent speech, but behind the scenes they’re sowing chaos

- your inconsistent or indecisiveness in partnerships; keep changing your mind or sending mixed signals

- your tendency to be too argumentative or quick to debate in your relationships; challenging other’s opinions or trying to prove you’re the smartest person in the room

- your inability to commit to one idea because you jump from them

- miscommunication, whether it’s through dishonesty, misunderstanding, or the inability to listen

Hidden Enemies:

- people from the past who hold onto grudges for years; won’t confront

- people who play psychological games; those who operate in the shadows and seem secretive, intense, or obsessed with control

- people who are obsessed or fixated on you, may harbor unspoken grudges or envy

- people who seek revenge for a perceived slight, waiting for the right moment to strike or sabotage you

- people who are subtly trying to gain power or control over you, slowly trying to dominate or manipulate you

- your fear of losing control, trying to manage every detail of your life

- your repressed emotions; you tend to hide your feelings like anger, jealousy, or fear

- your trust issues; you often fear betrayal or manipulation, leading you to push people away or act defensively

- you unconsciously engage in power struggles, which can manifest as subtle attempts to control others or situations

- your tendency to hide parts of yourself or keep things from others

Capricorn Rising [ 7H Cancer - 12H Sagittarius ]

Open Enemies

- people who turn emotional issues into weapons against you, playing on your vulnerabilities to get the upper hand

- people who bring up old wounds or past mistakes, using sentiment as a tool for manipulation

- family members or close friends who act like they’re on your side but turn against you when it benefits them

- people feign concern but are secretly trying to control your choices or decisions

- people who are passive-aggressive, subtly undermining you rather than confronting your directly

- your fear of vulnerability so you may act overly defensive or closed off

- your tendencies to project your insecurities into others

- your tendency to be overly nostalgic or resistant to change in relationships, like comparing new partners to past ones or refusing to let go of old dynamics

- dependency issues, heavily relying on others for support or validation

- your overprotectiveness which may lead to controlling behavior

Hidden Enemies

- people who have unrealistic ideals or beliefs that conflict with yours; may push you towards idealistic goals that are unattainable

- people who take risks without considering the consequences, leading you into situations where you may fail

- people who promote a life of escapism at the expense of commitments

- those you find in philosophical or ideological debates, who may challenge your beliefs in subtle ways, trying to expose weaknesses in your worldview or beliefs

- people who may come from a different cultural or educational background; may undermine your confidence by making you question your beliefs or values

- your own attachments to unrealistic expectations for yourself or others

- your desire for freedom and adventure, whether for pleasure or business, that may lead to neglected commitments

- your struggle with your own beliefs, which can lead to inner confusion or indecision, or manifest as a lack of conviction

- using travel, philosophy, or religion as a form of escapism from your problems rather than confronting them

- overindulgence in pleasure, spending, or lifestyle choices that sabotage your goals

Aquarius Rising [ 7H Leo - 12H Capricorn]

Open Enemies

- attention hogs who seek the spotlight and see you as competition; may openly challenge you for recognition, trying to outshine you in social or professional settings

- people who thrive on drama and confrontation; may create conflict through exaggerated emotions or bold claims

- entitled people who feel like they deserve the respect and admiration you receive

- people who use their charisma and charm to manipulate situations to their advantage, to make them seem more impressive or capable than you

- people who push your loyalty to the limit; may turn others against you by claiming your not worthy of their respect

- you may feel like you constantly need to be the center of attention or seem validation, and others may grow resentful

- your fear of vulnerability, fearing it will diminish your strength

- your over-competitive nature, always trying to compete to be the best or the brightest

- your dramatic outburst in conflicts, big or small

- your desire to be right that can make it hard to compromise

Hidden Enemies

- authority figures or mentors who appear supportive but subtly undermine your ambitions to hinder your progress

- people who criticize you from the background, making you doubt your capabilities

- people who exploit your fears about failure and authority; may subtly instill doubt in your amo

- people who are quietly working to achieve what you’re striving for, often cloaked as a facade of support

- people who provoke your insecurities in a way that leads you to procrastinate

- your anxiety that can lead you to avoid taking risks

- your constant need to judge yourself harshly, internalizing negativity that sabotages your confidence

- overwhelming yourself with responsibilities, taking on too much which can lead to resentment or burnout

- avoiding authority, which can lead to avoiding esponsibility, or facing challenges

- isolation due to ambition, which push away potential allies

Pisces Rising [ 7H Virgo - 12H Aquarius ]

Open Enemies

- people who constantly point out your flaws or mistakes, nitpicking every detail

- people who use your lifestyle choices against you, critiquing your health habits or routines, making you feel inadequate or guilty for your choices

- people who make you feel emotionally unsupported, challenging your emotions with harsh rationality

- unforgiving companions, people who leave little room for mistakes

- people who present themselves as helpful but use your vulnerabilities against you, like offer unsolicited advice then criticize you when you don’t follow through

- being overly critical of yourself, constantly judging your own actions or decisions

- your inflexibility; you struggle to adapt or compromise and others may feel stifled

- your overthinking; you may obsess over details, like in a disagreement

- you always try to present a perfect image, since you fear being seen otherwise

- your dependence on strict routines or standards in your relationships

Hidden Enemies

- individuals who appear friendly but have different ideologies or beliefs; may quietly oppose your views

- people who seem progressive but subtly sabotage your unconventional ideas, like twisting your plans or dismissing your contributions

- people who act like friends but fail to support you when it counts; may enjoy your company but undermine your efforts through neglect or indifference

- people who compete with you intellectually, often dismissing your efforts or planting seeds of doubt about your capabilities

- people who influence other’s opinions or create a false narrative about you, damaging your reputation without direct confrontation

- your own rebellious nature; you may struggle with standing or being unconventional in a way that leads to insecurities

- idealistic views, especially when others don’t live up to your expectations; can create hidden animosity

- your avoidance of facing responsibilities in favor of your ideals, especially when it comes to others who depend on you or expect more from you

- self-imposed isolation due to your unconventional approach to life, which can make relationships fade due to lack of engagement