#and having him around makes things funnier by the second

[shinkai-kaiju]

this game's flags are held together with fuckin hot glue and a dream is2g

[svmjaeyvn]

hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

[teddybeartoji]

sukuna fucking HATES cold water.

the sound he makes when the freezing waves bite at his ankles resembles a loud bark, his eyes bulging out of his head as he glares at you. his nostrils flare and you know he wants to bite at you for making him do this but the words get stuck in his throat when another miniscule wave comes crashing in.

and what makes the whole thing even funnier is that he can't get to you.

you're deeper in, far enough that he can't get a hold of you – he can't pinch your sides or throw you over his shoulder as a kind of punishment and he is fuming.

the fact that he is butt ass naked isn't helping him either.

his fingers curl up into a fist by his side while the other shields his beloved, shrinking, manhood and your cheeks hurt from laughing. tears brim at your lashline at the sight of him so riled up just because the water tempeture is lower than he'd like.

he screws his eyes shut when a wave bigger than the last comes in, his whole body wincing almost violently as he tries to even out his breathing.

a burst of laughter spills from your pretty lips. "aw, i didn't realize you were that big of a pussy, ryo."

...

his eyes snap open and the look he gives you sends a surge of excitement through you. suppressing a nervous smile, you bite down into your lip and sink deeper into the freezing water in order to try and escape the beast you've just unleashed.

in a fraction of a second, sukuna forgets all about the cold water he so despises and lets his hands fall by his sides and straightens his back so he's standing in front of you in all of his glory. he cocks his head to the side and clicks his tongue, a fire burning in his eyes as he takes a step toward you.

"what did you say?"

"n– nothing." sukuna doesn't miss the crack in your voice that you try to hide by clearing your throat. "i didn't say anything."

he hums.

the corner of his lip quirks up and you're met with a smug smirk that can only mean you're really in for it now. he strides through the water, big and confident, but just as he's about to reach you, you take in a deep breath and dive under.

sukuna lets out a chuckle, amused by your feeble attempt of running away.

it's still cold, it's fucking freezing, and he's sure his balls are about to disappear back inside his body, but there's no way he's backing down now – you wanted him here, you begged him to come and join you in the water, and so you shying away from him is out of the question.

you wanted to play, so he'll play.

the moment you come back up for air, he's behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you flush to him while you squeal and squirm. with your naked bodies pressed together, warmth blooms inside you both; he nips at your neck hungrily and you dig your nails into his forearm, a pleased smile gracing your lips.

"m'gonna have to eat you now."

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Story #2

I remember asking my mom once, if her dad had gotten ornerier as he'd gotten old. I'd heard about that happening, and it would've made sense for him. He was already the orneriest old cuss I'd ever met. Couldn't even imagine him being grumpier than he was.

Instead of answering the question directly, she told me about what it was like going to church with him as a kid. Their church was a small Mormon ward out in the sticks of Colorado, and he served as their Bishop - mostly by virtue of being the only one willing to do that much unpaid work. He was also the ward pianist. He actually liked playing piano, and he liked having an audience, so it was more or less understood that he was willing to be the bishop in exchange for being the pianist. 

Which could've been a good trade, but there were a few problems.

The first problem was that Grandpa Dale played every song at about triple speed. He was a deeply impatient person, and that extended to how he played music. The second problem was that he had a bad habit of cursing under his breath. That would've been a scandalous  enough habit for a Mormon bishop, but was made much worse (and also much funnier)  by him being pretty damn deaf. So what he thought of as "quiet" cursing under his breath was more of just a verse hoarse way of yelling. I only visited him for a week or two every summer, and I still learned most of my bad words from him. 

So every Sunday would start with a quiet prayer, and then Bishop Grandpa Dale would go to the piano, sit down, and play the nightcore version of Praise to the Man. He would occasionally play other hymns, but he really, really liked that one. This would continue until he hit a wrong note, which was basically inevitable because his music philosophy was that if he could play a song flawlessly, it was time to play it faster. So he'd play until he hit that wrong note, at which point he would scream-whisper SHIIIIIT and, because he did not actually read music so much as memorize it, the only way he'd be able to get his rhythm back was by going back to the start. 

If it was a good Sunday, he could get it in two tries. Some Sundays took as many as five. 

I learned two things about Grandpa Dale from this story. The first was that he could play piano. I'd never actually seen him do that before. Still haven't, come to think of it. Second was that the man that I visited once a year, who always seemed on the verge of exploding, who scared the absolute dickens out of me, was actually the chilled out version of the man my mom grew up with.

And it helped knowing that, actually. I'm actually a pretty anxious person, and my mom is, also, a pretty anxious person, and as a teenager we'd sometimes get in these doom loops where we'd wind each other up until our springs cracked. She'd be worried about me growing up to be happy, and I'd be worried about letting her down, and my worrying would make me unhappy, and my unhappiness would make her unhappy, and we'd just kind of dissolve into these anxieties like cotton candy in the sea and become totally unbearable to be around for a bit. Then my dad would sit us both down and very politely tell us that we were being crazy. He had this quote how being sad that someone else is sad that you're sad is the emotional equivalent of being a Klein flask and that at some point you have to just say I am allowed one (1) single layer of emotional recursion, at most, and ideally zero. 

And it was always kind of embarrassing and silly, but when I was tempted to be more upset with my mom about it, I could remember the piano story and go: Sheesh. She has more of a right to be anxious that I do. For me it's really just genetics, but she grew up with the Cactus-Killing Gopher-Smasher. A whole 18 years of that. I spent two weeks every summer with that guy, and I love him, but I always came home feeling like I'd survived something. She's a trooper.

[krakensdottir]

The idea of Crowley previously being a very powerful angel and still carrying around shards of that power is just so delicious to me. I'm a sucker for characters who aren't at all what they used to be. Underdogs who were obviously once a Big Deal, and you can't see it most of the time, until some improbable bit of classified knowledge or mention of higher connections leaks out. Especially if they really don't like to talk about it or dwell on who they were, if for one reason or another, they want to leave it all in the past.

I have had a feeling about Crowley since season 1. His position on Hell's hierarchy is relatively low, so it's not immediately apparent at first. But things stood out. How he bends reality to his will without seeming to even think about it, sometimes even without realizing. He decides it would be funnier if the paint guns were real guns, but also makes sure no one actually gets shot. This seems to take no effort or concentration on his part; it's done almost offhandedly. Or how he drives the Bentley through a wall of fire, keeping it from falling apart by sheer determination, while the much higher-ranking demon in the seat next to him is discorporated in seconds. Almost as impressive is how he negotiates London traffic, which from what I've heard is a borderline miraculous feat normally, let alone at 90 miles per hour.

And of course, the time stopping. Something even Aziraphale apparently isn't capable of. Something that, with a particularly fierce effort, literally stops Satan in his tracks. The sort of power wielded by a cosmic engineer who once needed it to do his job - 'I helped build that one,' he says, eyes a little distant as stares at a picture of a nebula - and he still carries it with him, skulking around on Earth, far from the cosmos he helped to create. Having let go of most of the rest, even the memories of it, burying them with the person he used to be. He's changed who he is but he can't change what he is, and if you cracked open that lowly serpent, you'd be blinded by the starlight within.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Dear diary - George Weasley x gf!reader, perv!Ron weasley

summary: Ron can't help his crush on his older brother's girlfriend, and catches himself in some inconvenient situations cw: SMUT, exhibitionism a little bit wc: 2.3k+

Ron was officially jealous of his older brother. Not that he hadn’t been before. George was the taller, funnier, more athletic version of himself, who was loved by everyone around him but the exceptional slytherins. But most importantly, George was loved by you. Despite you being two years older than Ron, in the same year group as the twins were, his delusions led him to believing that in some universe, he had a chance with you. It was never an option in his mind that you’d end up with one of his brothers. In fact, he’d never seen you speak to either of the twins until you’d strolled into the common room one day, hand in hand with the one and only George Weasley. 

Ron was a jealous man by nature, but seeing you with George made him resent his older brother. Whenever Ron smiled at you in the hallway before you’d started dating George, you’d always had the decency to at least acknowledge his presence, however now you were so preoccupied by cozying yourself into George’s side that you didn’t even avert your gaze from him. Ron watched as you led George onto the couch in front the fireplace, letting him sit down before sitting yourself right next to him and threw your legs over his lap. George snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you tighter against him, and you leaned your head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. George’s second hand came to rest on your exposed calf, caressing your leg up and down. Ron averted his gaze from his brother to you, and your cotton shorts that allowed Ron such a view of your legs.

Ron felt the couch dip down next to him, and he only removed his stare from your figure when he heard Hermione’s warning of “Don’t let any of your brothers catch you staring at her. If Fred finds out, then so does George, and if George finds out… Well.” Ron furrowed his eyebrows, mumbling “What do you mean?” but Hermione only gave him a knowing look.

As the months went on, Ron only hoped that you and George would finally break up, and that some months later you’d magically realise that he was the wrong brother for you, and that Ron had been waiting for you the entire time. George would have to get over it, Ron thought. However, to Ron’s horror, you and George had made it all the way to the summer, and after meeting his parents, Molly and Arthur had insisted you stay at the Burrow for a while over the holidays. Ron was dreading the two weeks you’d agreed on staying with them for, and had even complained to Ginny that the Burrow was too full, but she’d only snapped that it never seemed too full when his friends were staying over.

Ron was the first of his siblings to make it onto the platform when the Hogwarts Express arrived to the station. He made the most of the hugs and kisses his parents showered him with, sure that from the moment you’d walk off the train, all the attention would be on you. And Ron stood correct. Laughing along with Fred and George about something they’d said, Ron immediately noticed the arm George casually had around your waist, keeping you close to him as you carried your bags across the station to meet his parents.

Unsurprisingly, Molly had immediately started gushing over you, and had gone on about how lovely it was to see you again. You bathed in the flattering comments, returning the compliments to the woman, who encouraged you to head to the Burrow with George by apparition. Ron had scowled at her words, imagining what you’d do once you got home alone. Would you let George kiss you deeply, push you on the couch while he praised your body, or would you only let him peck your lips softly, asking him where to put your belongings. Ron had discovered that he was wrong on both accounts. You hadn’t done either of these things, instead leaving your luggage by the stairs, allowing George to lead you outside and show you nature’s glory all around the burrow.

Ron made it a point to avoid you throughout all your stay, Hermione’s words stuck in his head. What would George do if he found out about Ron’s crush on his girlfriend? No matter, he’d rather George think he disliked you than liked you. Besides, you had Ginny there to give you all the attention in the world, so happy to have another girl in the house that George often found himself trying to steal you back from her.

Ron sat in the living room while you helped Molly bake some goods in the open kitchen, letting the twins play a game of Quidditch in the yard. Ginny sat at the kitchen table, in charge of making entertaining conversation while you and Molly spoke about the recipe. Though at Ginny’s question “Are you and George going to get married?” Ron felt the energy in the entire room shift. His eyes glanced up from the sports magazine he read to see the look of shock on your face, eyes wide and jaw slack. Molly gasped, immediately scolding the young girl for her invasive question. “It’s fine Mrs. Weasley,” You reassured, adding “I don’t know Ginny, that’s kind of a loaded question.”

Your response was timed just right, because two seconds later, Fred and George came walking through the door, all sweaty from their match. You straightened your posture at the sight of your boyfriend, traveling the small distance of the kitchen so that George could easily whisk you away into a tight hug as soon as he walked into the kitchen. He used the grip on your body from his hug to spin you around, blocking you from his mother with his big back profile to dip his head down and give you a lengthy kiss. Ron, seated at just the right angle to have a perfect view of the kiss — and the cheeky squeeze George gave your ass — huffed in his chair, envy stirring inside him.

When the cookies you made were safely in the oven, you excused yourself upstairs, where George and his twin had retreated to shower. Knocking on the twins’s door, you were welcomed with a view of your shirtless boyfriend, aggressively drying his hair with a towel. George grinned at you, shutting the door behind you when you entered, and leading you to his bed. George hugged you close to his chest, pressing fluttering kisses on your forehead while Fred finished his shower. “I don’t think your younger brother likes me.” You mumbled, drawing shapes on George’s bare chest with your finger. “That ridiculous, sweetheart.” George answered, a laugh bubbling in his chest. You pulled away from him, an offended look on your face. “Baby, wait!” George laughed, tugging you back into him. “It’s ridiculous because Ron has the fattest crush on you. Read it in his diary.” 

The bathroom door opened, and Fred stepped out in a heap of steam from his hot shower. “Hey, don’t take credit for that!” Fred called out, imitating his brother's movement of ruffling his hair with a dry towel. “Right, excuse me. Fred read it in Ron’s diary, then brought me the diary, and then I read it in the diary.” You chuckled, pushing yourself up on the bed, looking back and forth between the two twins. “You promise?” You asked, watching as Fred nodded his head in reassurance. “What do you mean ‘you promise’? You want my brother to have a crush on you?” George asked with a frown. “Well I’d rather he have a crush on me than dislike me.” George scoffed, shaking his head. He unraveled his arms from around you, standing up and leaving the room momentarily. You blinked slowly and sat up straight on the bed, wondering if you’d upset him. “Don’t worry, he’s going to get the diary.” Fred said, turning his back from you to get dressed.

It was only seconds later that George came back, a scrappy red notebook in his hands. He spent a while flicking through the pages until he finally held a finger up, as if to silence you. “My most recent problem is that I have the fattest crush on my brother’s fucking girlfriend.” George started, and you covered your face with your hands, predicting the horror of what would come next. “She’s got a great smile, great legs. Honestly, everything about her is great. I just wish that she was sleeping with me instead of Mr. George fucking Weasley.” Your jaw went slack, and Fred giggled from where he stood, listening to George beginning to flick through the pages again. “So George’s girlfriend is staying with us over the summer break for a little while, which is going to be an absolute - uh what does that say?” Fred joined George to inspect the handwriting before they called out “Nightmare!” In synch.

“An absolute nightmare, because I’m going to be hard the entire time she’s there, but my only source of relief will be seeing her with my brother. I swear to godric, if I hear them have sex and she moans George’s name, I’m going to cry. Oh hey, I don’t remember reading that bit!” George added, putting a hand on his hip and humming apprehensively while he thought for a moment. You and Fred shot each other a look, and he grinned boyishly at you, commenting. “Well, I’ll make sure to leave you guys the room for a little bit.” You felt your cheeks heat up, eyes trained on George as he tossed the diary to the side, climbing back over you on the bed. George pushed your hair to the side, putting some of his weight on you as he started pressing kissed on your neck. “Yeah, and have him call us down for dinner, will you?” Your eyes widened in shock, letting George push you down on the bed as he continued his attack on your neck, barely acknowledging Fred, who finally walked out of the room, letting you have temporary privacy.

George pulled the blanket from under you, separating from you to pull his trousers off. Luckily for you, he hadn’t put on a shirt yet, and was making quick work of taking yours off. “Baby, isn’t this a little cruel?” You asked him, accepting the kisses he left on your lips, and arching your back so he could slide his hands underneath you, unclasping your bra. George nodded in agreement, tossing your bra so it landed by the door. “It’ll help him get over you.” He responded, tugging your trousers and underwear down your legs. “What, to see me naked?” George laughed, balancing himself over you as you helped him remove his boxers. “No one is going to be seeing you naked but me. What’s going to help him move on is to see me on top of you. And to hear you screaming my name.” He whispered against your lips before pecking them softly, feeling your hands trail up to grip his muscular biceps. “Yeah? You plan on making me scream?” George didn’t answer you this time, only bringing his fingers down to your clit, where he began making small circles. 

At your small gasp, he smiled, gripping his cock and bringing it towards your entrance. George spread your legs wider, making more space for himself between your thighs. In a few curt thrusts, he sheathed his cock inside you, biting his lip harshly and letting his head fall into the crook of your neck as he tried to adjust himself inside you, calming his breath down while listening to your little moans. “Shit, that was harsh, I’m sorry baby.” He apologised, cupping your cheeks and bringing you into a soft kiss. “Wasn’t harsh, feels good. Can you move?” The slow drag of George’s hips had your jaw going slack, head digging into the pillow behind you as your eyebrows furrowed. George grunted, abs constricting with pleasure with each snap of his hips against yours. Absentmindedly, George reached back to pull the blanket over his torso, covering your naked body from view. The sounds coming from your mouth however, were free for anyone to hear.

As George increased the power and speed of his thrusts, so did the volume and frequency of the sounds you made. You desperately gripped onto George’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin while a string of moans flowed out of you. The most recurring sound you made? His name. And that was the first thing Ron heard when he cracked the door open to come fetch you both for dinner.  Everyone was already outside, the dining table laid out under the night’s sky, but Ron was shooed away to call you down for dinner. Ron froze, hearing the high pitched cry of his brother’s name escape your mouth, back arching so your chest pushed against your boyfriend’s. Even worse, Ron could hear the sound of his brother’s hips driving into yours with every thrust, and the soft encouragements he told you. “That’s right, say my name baby.” He groaned into the crook of your neck. Ron loudly slammed the door shut, turning his back to it as he processed what he saw.

The slam of the door barely reached George’s ears with the way you screamed his name as you orgasmed, cunt clamping down on his cock so hard that he could only see white, whimpering your name in a manner he will deny ever happening. Your pussy milked George’s orgasm out of him, making him pant heavily against you, and you ran your fingers through his hair when you finally recovered from your own orgasm. When George also recovered, he slowly pulled out of you, pressing a loving kiss on your lips before slumping against you once more. You giggled teasingly, saying “All that for him not to even show up.” But your comment only backlashed humiliatingly when a George scoffed, saying “Oh no, he showed up alright.”

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[mya-valentine]

Hello crack request Tighnari, Kinich, Ayato, Cyno, Childe? (Sorry if this is a lot), S/o try pranking by kabedon them, this time they wanted to be the dominant one and pin them against the wall, while saying a cringey line like "Stop right there Babygirl~". only one problem though, s/o is shorter than them so they only look cute trying such attempt. You can write this in Headcanons :))

Headcanon: Tighnari, Kinich, Ayato, Cyno, and Childe With a Short S/O that Tried to be Intimidating (They Failed Miserably)

A/N: I deadass had to look up what a kabedon was

Tighnari

Tighnari would be caught off guard at first when his S/O suddenly pushes him against the wall. He blinks a few times, staring down at them in amusement, wondering what on earth they’re up to.

The second he realizes what they’re trying to do, he can’t help but smirk. Tighnari would immediately spot their effort to seem intimidating and dominant but would find it incredibly endearing instead of threatening.

Because his S/O is shorter, they might have to stretch to even reach his chest properly to pin him against the wall, making their kabedon attempt more of an adorable struggle than an assertive one.

When they say something like "Stop right there, babygirl~," Tighnari would raise an eyebrow, his fox ears twitching. He’d stifle a laugh, trying to keep a straight face but utterly failing. “Babygirl? Really?”

Tighnari would immediately break out into teasing, leaning down slightly to make eye contact with them. “Are you trying to be the scary one here? Because all I see is someone cute trying their hardest.”

Tighnari would most likely turn the tables in an instant, effortlessly reversing their roles. With one smooth motion, he’d spin them around and pin them instead, leaning in close with a playful smirk. “Now, that’s how you do it.”

He wouldn’t be able to help himself and would burst out laughing once he sees how flustered they’ve gotten after their plan backfired. “I appreciate the effort, though,” he’d say, ruffling their hair affectionately.

Even though they failed to be dominant, Tighnari would still think they’re the cutest thing ever and might reward them with a kiss on the forehead, saying something along the lines of, “Next time, maybe try a line that doesn’t make me cringe.”

In the end, Tighnari would jokingly encourage them to try again, but he’d be sure to let them know that no matter how many attempts they make, he’ll always see them as his precious little S/O.

Kinich

Kinich would be initially confused when his S/O tries to kabedon him. He’s used to being the protective one, so this sudden attempt to dominate him catches him completely off guard.

His S/O’s shorter stature would make their kabedon attempt far less intimidating than intended. They might only reach his chest or shoulder, so instead of feeling pinned, Kinich would feel like he’s being hugged or playfully pushed.

The second his S/O says, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Kinich would blink once before a slow, amused smirk spreads across his face. He’d bite back a laugh, trying to play along, but his glowing eyes would clearly show his amusement.

Kinich would try so hard not to burst out laughing because he wouldn’t want to hurt his S/O’s feelings. Instead, he’d look down at them with the softest gaze, as if they’ve just done something unbelievably adorable.

To make the situation even funnier, Kinich might lean down, bringing his face closer to theirs and teasing them with a low voice. “Babygirl, huh? Do you really think that’s going to work on me?”

Kinich wouldn’t flip the situation around aggressively but would lightly push back against their arm, making it clear that while they’re trying to take control, he’s still the stronger one. “You might want to work on your delivery next time.”

The more they try to act dominant and say cringey things, the harder it would be for Kinich to keep a straight face. His lips would twitch into a grin, and eventually, he’d let out a warm, deep laugh. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

If he’s feeling playful, Kinich might gently spin them around and pin them against the wall, leaning in close with a soft smirk. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he’d whisper, his voice full of teasing warmth.

No matter how cringey their attempt was, Kinich would absolutely love the effort his S/O put in. After laughing, he’d pull them into a tight embrace, his voice softening as he says, “You don’t have to try so hard to impress me, you know. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Despite all the teasing, Kinich might secretly be a little flustered by their bold attempt. He wouldn’t show it outwardly, but there’d be a faint warmth in his cheeks from the idea of them trying to take the lead, even if they didn’t quite pull it off.

Kinich would probably make a mental note to tease them about this later, promising to get back at them for such a cute and silly prank. He’d say something like, “Next time, I’ll make sure you really understand who’s in charge.”

Ayato

When Ayato’s S/O suddenly pins him against the wall, Ayato would stay calm and composed, eyes glancing down at them with mild curiosity. He would be completely unfazed, wondering what they’re trying to accomplish.

The height difference would be immediately apparent. His S/O might have to stand on their tiptoes or stretch just to reach his chest, and Ayato would watch their efforts with an amused glint in his eyes, finding it more cute than intimidating.

As soon as they say the cringey line, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Ayato’s composed mask would crack slightly. His lips would twitch into a small smile, but he’d suppress any outward laughter, wanting to see how far they’ll take this.

Always one for a good game, Ayato would play along for a moment, pretending to be helpless. He’d raise one eyebrow and give a slightly teasing smile, saying, “Oh? Babygirl, is it? Should I be worried?”

Ayato’s voice would drop slightly, filled with playful sarcasm. “You’re really quite fearsome, you know,” he’d say, leaning closer to them without breaking eye contact, his calm demeanor never faltering.

If his S/O keeps trying to act dominant, Ayato would find it adorable but impossible to take seriously. He’d smoothly reverse the roles without any effort, gently taking hold of their wrist and flipping the situation. Now they’re the ones pinned against the wall.

“Nice attempt,” Ayato would say with a sly grin as he leans in, “but I think you’re still a bit too short to pull that off convincingly.” His voice would be warm but full of teasing.

After a moment, Ayato wouldn’t be able to contain his laughter any longer. His usually cool and composed demeanor would soften, and he’d chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind their ear. “You really do keep things interesting, don’t you?”

After his teasing, Ayato would quickly shift to affectionate mode. He’d tilt their chin up and plant a kiss on their forehead, his voice softer now. “You know you don’t have to try so hard. I’m already yours, after all.”

Ayato would definitely plan to prank them back. He’d give a cryptic warning like, “Don’t think I won’t remember this. You might find yourself on the receiving end next time, darling.” His tone would be playful but with a hint of mischief, promising a playful revenge.

Despite all the teasing, Ayato would find his S/O’s attempt to be absolutely adorable. He wouldn’t stop smiling or teasing them about it later, subtly slipping in lines like, ��So, when’s your next dominant moment scheduled?” whenever the mood strikes.

Cyno

When Cyno’s S/O suddenly pins him against the wall, his first reaction is confusion. Cyno’s always serious, so he doesn’t immediately recognize this as a prank. He’ll just look down at them with a raised eyebrow, wondering what they’re up to.

Cyno is quite a bit taller than his S/O, so their attempt at kabedon would be more cute than intimidating. They might barely reach his chest, and Cyno would notice how much they’re struggling to maintain a serious face.

When they say something like, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Cyno’s expression wouldn’t change. He’d stare at them in silence, processing what they just said, completely unsure of how to respond.

Cyno, being quite literal, might say something like, “But… I’m not a girl,” in response to the cringey line. He wouldn’t immediately catch on that they’re trying to act dominant or playful, making the situation even funnier.

Once it clicks that his S/O is trying to prank him and be the dominant one, Cyno’s lips would quirk slightly in amusement. He still wouldn’t laugh outright, but there’d be a subtle smile forming, showing that he finds their effort adorable.

Cyno, despite his seriousness, would try to play along in his own way. He’d probably respond with something completely deadpan like, “Are you planning to arrest me now? What’s the charge?” His sense of humor would kick in, though it would be as dry as ever.

Cyno would tease them in the most subtle way possible. “You seem awfully small for someone trying to take control,” he’d say, his voice low but clearly teasing, all while maintaining his usual calm demeanor.

If his S/O tries to keep up the act, Cyno would very casually flip the situation, turning the tables on them with little effort. He’d gently take hold of their wrist and reverse the kabedon, pinning them instead with ease. “I think this suits me better, don’t you?”

Cyno would drop a pun, his signature move, even in this situation. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, because your strategy? It’s pun-ishingly bad.” His straight-faced delivery would make it even harder for his S/O to keep their serious act going.

Even though he’s serious most of the time, Cyno wouldn’t be able to hold back a small chuckle after watching his s/o’s flustered reaction. It would be rare, but hearing his soft laughter would be worth all the teasing.

Once the prank is over, Cyno would wrap an arm around them and give a rare, genuine smile. “I appreciate your effort,” he’d say softly, “but next time, maybe pick a line that makes more sense.”

Even though he won’t show it much, Cyno would actually be flattered that his S/O tried to pull off something so bold. He’d admire their confidence, even if the height difference and cringey line didn’t quite have the desired effect.

Childe

The moment Childe’s S/O pins him against the wall, his lips would immediately curl into a mischievous grin. He’s always down for a playful challenge, and he’d find their attempt to dominate him utterly adorable.

Childe would notice the height difference right away. His S/O might be standing on their tiptoes or barely reaching his chest, and that would only add to the cuteness. He wouldn’t be able to take the attempt seriously at all.

The second they say, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Childe would burst into laughter. He’d raise an eyebrow and lean down slightly, meeting their eyes with a teasing smirk. “Babygirl? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Childe would totally play along just to see how far they’ll take it. “Oh no, what are you going to do to me now? I’m so helpless,” he’d say dramatically, pretending to be intimidated, though his tone would be dripping with sarcasm.

His S/O’s attempt to be dominant would backfire quickly. Childe would ruffle their hair with a playful grin. “You’re really trying to pull off the tough act, huh? Too bad you’re too cute for that.”

Without breaking a sweat, Childe would lightly push back against their arm and break free from their kabedon, reversing the situation almost effortlessly. Now, it’s them pinned against the wall, with Childe’s arms on either side of their head. “Is this how it’s supposed to go?” he’d whisper with a teasing smirk.

Childe thrives on challenges, so he’d definitely challenge them to try again. “You know, you might need some practice if you really want to pull this off. Let me know when you’re ready for round two,” he’d say with a wink.

His S/O’s cringey line would spark some flirtatious banter. “Babygirl, huh? I think you might be the one who’s in trouble now,” he’d tease, leaning in closer, his voice low and full of mischief.

Despite all the teasing, Childe would genuinely laugh at their attempt, not in a mocking way, but because he finds their effort absolutely adorable. His laughter would be loud and infectious, and he’d pull them into a hug right after.

After all the playful teasing, Childe would shower them with affection to make up for turning the tables on them. He’d press a kiss to their forehead and say something sweet like, “You don’t have to be dominant to get my attention. You’ve already got all of it.”

Even though he teased them relentlessly, deep down Childe would be impressed by their boldness. He loves their playful side and would secretly appreciate how comfortable they are joking around with him, even if the prank didn’t go as planned.

Childe would definitely make it clear that this isn’t over. “This was fun, but you know I’m going to get you back for this, right?” He’d smirk, already plotting his own prank in return.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Viktor has carried a torch for you for months, maybe even years, before you know anything about it.

He knows exactly when it started. Not at first sight, which relieves him- at least he's managed to avoid one cliche in this embarrassment.

You'd been regularly visiting the lab for a while. As one of the three people Jayce would call an actual friend, you had carte blanche to occupy the space whenever you liked (which Jayce had given without consulting Viktor. He likely wouldn't have minded, especially in those early, heady days of partnership, but still, it's the principle of the thing), and weekday afternoons often found you lounging on the beaten couch in the middle of the room, neck-deep in your literary and political studies. Those days were often quiet, except for the rustle of pages, the scratch of chalk on blackboard, the occasional sigh as someone's focus stuttered. Nothing to object to. Nothing to notice.

Unfortunately, long-term serenity was perhaps too much to ask considering his choice in business partner. As frequently as your days were spent in deep thought, they were spent in constant conversation with Jayce, and that is where Viktor's problem began.

Viktor has been self-contained for so long that he can no longer remember whether or not his isolation is a choice or simply consequence of who he is. He has always preferred the company of his own mind to the friendship of others, with one, perhaps two, exceptions. Almost always, he prefers to observe, watching the people around him rather than engaging. When he has something more important to think about- which, today and also basically every day, working so hard to bring magic to a material world, he certainly does- he simply allows conversation to wash over him and continues his work. Instinct, not just habit.

Except. From the first, listening to you speak- really speak, with passion or sincerity or wryness, anything so long as you're saying something- was as distracting, as riveting, as the snatch of orchestral music heard when passing a concert hall. The bell-struck sound of your laugh, your quick, dry wit. The way you managed to make the most mundane topics and the dullest days seem worth notice. It was- you were- distracting. Distracting enough that he found himself joining in with you, parrying a point you've just made or riffing on a joke. And when you'd counter him, or laugh at one of his asides, or, memorably, descend with him into a near-shouting match over which neighborhood bakery made the best macarons, he felt electric. You made him braver, funnier, more himself. Within months, you'd become the second person he would call a friend.

It's humiliating, frankly. He, a grown man who prides himself on his rationality and composure, whipping around in his chair whenever there's a knock on the laboratory door and feeling himself deflate when the person who walks through it isn't you. He, a respected scientist, unable to sleep when he finally makes it to his bed (or, more frequently, the couch in the lab) because he can't close his eyes without seeing your face. He, a man who has always prided himself on his rationality and composure, doodling on half-forgotten pages of work while he daydreams about burying his face in your hair.

He tries to distract himself. It doesn't work.

He's sick with you- that's the only way he can think to describe it on the sodden, drunken night he spends with Jayce the day after his birthday (how Jayce ever found out when his birthday was is still a mystery that irks him to no end), when the liquor and the tide of his emotion create an impulsive need to speak to someone, anyone, about you. You've made him sick, lovesick, in the truest sense of the phrase- he can hardly eat, hardly sleep, you've taken over so many of his thoughts. Overhearing you talk about your date was enough to undo him, send him straight back to the rib-breaking jealousy usually reserved for teenagers, and he's nearly thirty. He got nauseous- physically, actually, nauseous- picturing another person touching you. It's humiliating, unbearable, completely unbefitting a man of science.

He feels out of his mind, possessed. You haunt him like a ghost. The idea of you hovers at his shoulder as he goes about his day asserting itself at every opportunity. He wants it to stop. He wishes it was you and not your spirit.

Jayce, to his credit, handles this remarkably well. He waits until he's sure Viktor's tirade is over before he asks do you want to do something about it?, but Viktor only laughs derisively and slams the rest of his vodka glass back like it's water. I only take risks when there is a chance of success.

If Viktor was less drunk, he would notice Jayce's tells. He would notice how he's been practically bouncing with energy, how he's been fighting to hold back a grin. He might even ask what the problem was. As it is, he's smashed, and too wrapped up in self-pity to do it anyway. So it comes as an immense surprise when Jayce replies, I'd take the bet.

Viktor's head jerks up . What?

I can't really say. There would be a direct attempt on my life. Jayce drums his fingers on the table between them. Insider trading, you know, deeply frowned upon. But trust me. Ask. See what happens.

The moment he says it, Viktor knows that he will.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

Pairing Rockstar!Eddie x Reader | friends -> lovers

Summary Eddie comes back to Hawkins during a break on his national tour, and realizes he lost touch with someone he cares about deeply: you [angst and fluff]

Word Count: 2.7k

Above, a blue sky melts into orange, bearing a falling sun that makes Lover’s Lake shimmer. Tree branches rustle in the breeze. Until Eddie showed up at your door, whispers of his return to Hawkins had been just that. If you were still in the habit of calling each other regularly, you reckon you would’ve been the first to know. There’s no skepticism now, as the two of you sit on the tailgate of a cherry-red F-150. It’d been a gift from him to Wayne that he had on loan for the outing. This is a spot where campervans usually staked out for the view, but the universe must’ve known the evening belonged to you two. 

There were so many things you told yourself you were going to say when he got back from the road, but the words were hard to find. Elation and confliction had decided that your heart would be the grounds for their tug-of-war. Time had a habit of doing that, muddling feelings. Blurring old lines.  

“Does it feel weird?” you ask. They’re the first words you’ve spoken in a while. It takes Eddie a second to realize you’re talking to him. 

He straightens up in apology. “Does what feel weird?” The hole in his jeans gives sight to the bruise on his knee. You study it, imagining the many ways it could’ve formed. Knee-sliding on stage, most likely. 

“Being back in Hawkins,” you say, meeting his gaze. 

The immediate answer that poses itself on the tip of his tongue is no. Then it occurs to him that what you’re really asking is if it feels weird to be back with you. To that, there is no concrete answer. No such thing as black and white. There’s only technicolor when it comes to you, so vivid and complex that he wished it was as simple as a binary. 

“I don’t know if I’d use the word weird.” 

“Different?” you supply. 

He lifts a shoulder. “That’s a little more like it,” he says. “Coming home always is.” 

You hum, twisting the gold bracelet around your wrist. There’s a silver one around his own and his fingers are adorned with bulky steel rings. More tattoos have found a home beneath his skin as well. The longer you study everything new about him, the more a look that hauntingly resembles grief blooms on your face. As if something that once belonged to the two of you had been lost to the passing of time. When the same sense begins to swell within his own chest, he tries to snub it out the best way he knows how, beckoning whatever levity may be waiting in the wings.  

“But a lot of things stayed the same. Like Mike,” he starts. “I thought he would’ve called it quits by the time I got back, but he’s still kicking around at the auto shop. I was more surprised to see him than he was to see me.” 

After teaching Eddie the little his father failed to teach him about cars, Mike Summerdale gave him his first steady job the summer before his senior year. Working at Starcourt hadn’t held up, neither did Family Video or any other ‘boring’ employment. Mike’s Tire & Auto Shop was the only gig he sustained before the world had bigger plans. Eddie was the type who needed to move around, work with his hands, be challenged. Mike was one of the only people who’d been keen enough to discern that. 

Working at the shop not only gave him a sense of stability, but it also gave him you. The evening you came by for a last minute oil change on your parent’s Peugeot 504—ten minutes before closing—was the day he learned you were even funnier and more down to earth than what he’d gathered from within the stuffy halls of Hawkins High. 

A smile starts on your own lips. “He was probably ready to put his best man back to work,” you say. “Your hands are all pretty now.” 

Scoffing, Eddie turns his palms up as if he’s prepared to prove you wrong. There’s calluses on his fingertips from playing guitar, but not much else. His hands are nowhere near as rugged as they were when he was a mechanic. Back when you’d finally had enough of his indifference, you remember getting him a special cream and even rubbing it into his hands yourself when he puppy-dog-eyed his way into it. Some nights, long after you were supposed to have been back at your parents place, you’d be sitting in his living room with the TV glow illuminating your faces as the scent of eucalyptus lingered in the air between you. 

Eddie follows your hand as you reach over to run your fingers over his palm. “If I gave you a socket wrench right now, you probably wouldn’t even know how to use it.” You’re shamelessly teasing him now. It feels good. 

A genuine smile pulls on his lips, eyes brighter as he looks over at you. Even in his amusement, his next words are thoughtful. “Some things you don’t forget.” 

Sobering words, more like. Memories begin to roll in one by one until they avalanche and you can’t help but relieve yourself of the pressure by shoveling it over to him. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” you ask. “After that we were together all the time.” 

Back when time was all you had. Twenty-four hours wasn’t the same anymore. There were more responsibilities to fill it with, different relationships to entertain. For a while, the only thought ticking in your minds was when you’d get to see each other again. When the phone calls stopped, the care never went away. Neither did the curiosity, the stress of not knowing how the other was doing or where they were in the world. Those concerns continued to ring on and on, reverberating down the hallways of want that built themselves within your hearts. 

The rouge tear that streams down your cheek is the pioneer of more to come. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat when he sees it, hand twitching once in his lap. The next time, he doesn’t stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears with his thumb. It’s a gesture meant to distract him from the fact that he’s the reason behind them. There’s no escaping the tidal wave of guilt that rushes in to drag him out to sea. You sniffle and shake your head to let him know that it’s okay, but his head is already under water. 

“I do remember,” it comes out quiet, thick. “The night we met—everything.” 

“Then what happened? What did I do wrong?” The wind is knocked out of him at that. “I know things changed so fast, but did everything before you left just get resigned to a spot on a timeline? Something for you to talk about to Rolling Stone?”  

Eddie tries to swallow around his guilt, but ends up choking on offense. 

“I never asked for any of this,” he asserts, hopping off the truck bed. “I may’ve begged God when I was a kid, but that’s ‘cause I didn’t know any better,” he says. “You don’t know what it’s been like. You don’t get to suggest that I stopped giving a shit.”

“Then what did you do, Eddie? Because that’s what it feels like.” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but there’s no way to reel it back in.

You can see the moment his stomach drops. It’s in the way his body grows tense, the faint color that rises to his cheeks, the light that wavers in his eyes. “You’ve been right here in Hawkins with all your friends and family three steps away. I’m the one who’s been in a new city every other night, cameras flashing wherever I go.” His voice remains level, but he talks with his hands like he always does. 

“I’ve been on autopilot for the past three months to make it back here with a semblance of sanity. So I’m sorry if I stopped picking up the phone to call. I was too busy trying to breathe with a goddamn elephant on my chest.” He paces away from you to run his hands through his hair. When he faces you again, he looks small. “This is all new to me. If you could just extend some grace.” 

Every word hangs heavy in the space between you. Which feels like miles. Eddie doesn’t huff or move or make any rash decision he’ll regret. He averts his gaze to refocus his attention on the lake. Its stillness feels like a mockery. There’s a dull thud as your feet meet the ground, followed by footsteps as you head into the woods. Despite every inch of you that wants to, you don’t look back. The feeling of his gaze is enough. 

He follows a few minutes after you’ve disappeared. The whole way, he wonders if his words were too harsh, if he’d gone about expressing himself the right way. The earthy crunch of his footsteps are soft as comes up behind you. You’re standing at The tree. The one everyone in Hawkins manages to come across in a lifetime, even if they decide not to leave their mark. The stories you heard about it growing up made it out to be a relic. 

Wound-Bearer was the name it had been given by a man from the class of ‘66, meant to immortalize the proof of love, romantic and platonic. Or at least bear a sign that it once existed. Looking at it now, more initials had been added since you and Eddie contributed to it your senior year. The carving stood out more than the rest, not because it was particularly noticeable or impressive, but because it was yours. Eddie stops a few paces away and spots it in seconds as he looks over your shoulder. 

Both of you hold your breath until you give in. 

“I didn’t mean to sound selfish. I’ve just been scared, Eddie.” You’re ashamed as you turn around to face him. “Scared that you didn’t want to talk anymore. That our friendship was fading away,” you say, scoffing a second later. “Now I sound like we’re in a movie.” 

A tenderness settles in his eyes that you don’t believe you deserve. “Our lives are a fucking movie,” he says, breathing out a chuckle. 

Things began to take off after he got scouted by the agent who’d flown out from California to visit family. You remember the dreams that had filled your head, each one of them somehow including you—you tagging along on the road, sitting front row at his shows, being right off camera during interviews. Reality proved itself to be nowhere near as sweet as your imagination. Later, when he signed to a label and was set for a national tour, the sacrifices of the limelight revealed themselves as pressing and real. 

Joining him in that new stage of his life meant leaving everything you’d ever known, bypassing university, being subject to thousands of eyes that just wanted to gawk. That’s why the day he left Hawkins was the day he left you behind. Even in his own mind, you not being his personal assistant was for the better. Him losing a sense of stability to chase his dreams didn’t mean you should be strapped to his side and subject to the same. 

At least you had a shot at creating a nice life for yourself. You were smart, talented, and someone worth building a life with. Music was all he had going. Leaving Hawkins was his only shot and it meant walking through the fire. 

A surprised sound escapes him when you crowd into his space to wrap your arms around him like he’s a soldier home from war. It’s the same type of hug Wayne had given him earlier that afternoon. It felt like love, like safety, like home. He melts into you, and the two of you stand like this until you remember that embraces aren’t meant to last forever. 

•••

Tonight, Eddie Munson takes it slow for the first time in his life. The speed limit signs on the side of the road dare him to go their limit. There’s hardly anybody on the roads to give him trouble for it either. It’s nice, the long way home always is. The radio plays low as the warm night air flows in through the widows. Eddie drives with his right hand, left arm hanging outside the truck. 

“Fuck, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he grouses as he brakes for a stop sign. There’s enough earnestness in his voice to make you startle as you track his gaze. 

On the opposite side of the street, the old location for Scoot’s Scoops sits idle with boarded windows and a dimmed sign. 

You heave a sigh. “They just relocated,” you assure, rubbing your chest to calm down. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Eddie’s eyes are apologetic as he looks over at you. “I damn near had one myself. Sorry.” He reaches over to squeeze your thigh before his brain catches up to his body. It’s a fleeting touch that warms your entire being and stuns you into a brief stillness as if he was electric. 

He shifts in his seat and clears throat. “Maybe we can go to the new location tomorrow. Get some ice cream.” 

You blink a few times, mind still fuzzy. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 

The remainder of the ride is quiet. When he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you’re swift to gather your things into your lap, still buzzing. “Thanks for the ride back,” you say, biting on your lower lip as a loud silence stretches. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He wants to walk you to your door, but he fears he’s already overstepped. “Yup. G’night.” 

Eddie curses under his breath as the door snaps shut behind you. After running a hand down his face, a tube lipstick catches his attention in the passenger seat. It takes him a few seconds to grab it and follow after you. By then, you’ve already made it inside and up the short flight of stairs. When the door of the complex closes behind him, it cuts off a cacophony chirping insects. 

Upon making it to the second floor, there’s something intimate about seeing you standing under the dim, humming lights fiddling with your keys. It isn’t until you get the door open that you regard him. 

His smile is sheepish, unlike him in every way. “You forgot this.” He reads the label as if he hadn’t committed it to memory during his short trip up the stairs, “Strawberry Crush, New Hydrating Formula.” A boyish smile buds on his face as he holds it out to you. 

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much.” Contrary to your words, there’s no inflection of surprise in your tone as you take it from him. Forgetting hadn’t been a mistake. His eyes flit inside to get a glimpse of your apartment. “Maybe I can give you a proper tour tomorrow after ice cream,” you offer. 

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets. “Sure, I’m down.”

He waits until you’re inside to walk back to his truck. You rush to peep out your living room window to watch him climb into the truck. He doesn’t pull away like you expect him to. Instead, he stays parked. Headlights shining, attracting moths and other flying things. The urge to see him one last time overpowers your better judgment in a fight that lasts all of five seconds. 

In record time, you’re back outside. He rolls down his window as you approach. 

“Forget something else?” 

“I did, actually.”

You rest your forearms on the window sill and he instinctively leans towards you, warm eyes searching your face trying to get a read. In another life, he sees your next move coming. In this one, it seems too good to be true: a kiss as soft as they come to the sounds of the night.

-

Any and all interaction appreciated. I see you <3

[thebibliosphere]

One of the funnier aspects of playing with the Pennyworth canon is being able to play into Alfred having fourth-wall-breaking powers.

He's not psychic. But his relationship with reality is a little bit to the left of everyone else's on account of the War Trauma, Witches Spiking His Tea With Hallucinogens That One Time, and a heaping dose of Main Character Energy.

He's just a little bit too aware of things. A little bit too ahead of the plot. Everyone else around him is staggering about, fumbling their way through the dark, and Alfred's already pulling out his gun, anticipating the next shot. Except for when the plot needs him in the dark. Then he's just as surprised as everyone else, if not more so, because he didn't see it coming, and Alfred always sees it coming.

Not to mention all the times he hallucinates a dead person conveniently telling him how to resolve this week's plot while quietly worrying he might have gone A Little Bit Mad.

It makes for an entertaining character study when you drop him into a more traditional Batman world, and he's suddenly second-fiddle to the somehow even more insane shit Bruce is dealing with on a daily basis.

Bruce: I don't know what I'd do without you. It's like you anticipate everything. How did you know I'd need an antidote for fatal laughing gas?

Alfred with the ghost of Martha Wayne standing over his shoulder, absolutely sweating bullets and not about to admit to anything lest he end up enjoying a mandatory 72 hour grippy sock vacation in Arkham: Oh, well, y'know, what's a butler for...

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.5): 2 to function - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

about my taglist; ok until this i've been adding people to my taglist even if they didn't use the google form, but since its getting hard to keep track and i don't want to miss anyone, ill only be adding people who submit a google form (linked on my pinned post as well as at the top of every island lookout post). sorry if this is an inconvenience to any!!

part 4- part 5 - part 6

rafe pulled up to roni's house, honking the horn as she took her sweet time coming out. she was late—classic.

when she finally slid into the passenger seat, roni casually pulled out her cart, took a hit, and passed it over to him.without saying a word, she turned her head, blowing the smoke in his direction. rafe rolled his eyes but grabbed the cart out of her hand and took a hit himself.

music was blasting, windows down, the cool air mixing with the haze in the car. it was the perfect vibe—loud, carefree, and like they were in their own world. the drive to target felt like the most natural thing in the world, even if it might’ve been a little dangerous. but hey, they’d done this before. being high wasn’t the same as being drunk. it was fine.

they pulled into target, half-laughing and half-buzzed, like they were on a mission, but also not at all. the whole store was just a blur, with them bouncing between aisles, acting like they owned the place.

after that, they went back to tannyhill, sprawled out on the couch, snacks everywhere. rafe's phone buzzed—it was kelce, calling about something random. before they knew it, it turned into a facetime, and roni took the reins of the conversation.

rafe, needing a break from all the madness, tossed his phone to roni. “here, entertain kelce,” he joked, settling back into the couch. roni grinned and grabbed the phone, instantly hitting screen share. “lets see what he has to hide...” she said as she opened his snapchat memories. each pic was funnier than the last, and she couldn’t help laughing at whatever she found.

then she pressed the "flashbacks from this day" tag at the top, revealing the golden snap from three years ago. rafe, looking extra dramatic, with the caption: “i’m watching you…” roni erupted in laughter, almost dropping the phone. kelce was already cracking up, and the chaos was contagious.

without a second thought, she saved the pic, posted it on kooked.out. the caption reading: “im watching you... #rafeflashbacks.” by the time rafe came back, he saw her still holding his phone, practically on the floor from laughing.

rafe came back into the room, saw her holding his phone, still laughing like a maniac. he raised an eyebrow. “what’d you do?”

roni handed him the phone, the kooked out page with the freshly posted flashback still on the screen.

rafe stared at his phone, confused and starting to go through the comments. “wait, what the hell? why’d you post that?”

she turned back to the phone, still grinning like a maniac. “ok bye kelce, boutta get my ass beat,” she said, cutting the facetime and laughing even harder.

and that was just the beginning. one post turned into another, and suddenly it was a full-on back-and-forth, each one more ridiculous than the last. of course, it wasn’t just them—everyone was watching. the posts blew up, people were commenting, and that only made the whole thing funnier.

they didn’t even think about the consequences— why would they? they were just messing around, having a good time. who cares what might happen when you're high and living the moment with your best, best, friend?

ahaahhhasdjahdj i loved making the posts at the end lollll ok this is for like character developent and next chapter (i think) will be the start of the turning point.

tags under the cut as always, and if u havent, read the notes abt tags at the top to be on my taglist!

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid

[lovebugism]

Hi there 👋🏻 I've been binge reading your stories lately and I love them all! I have a request if you're up for it. Could you write one where shy!reader doesn't like her laugh because some people think it's annoying but Eddie loves it? Totally not self-projecting by the way! 🙃 Thank you!

thank you angel! please enjoy :D — eddie comforts you when he finds out an old boyfriend made you hate your laugh (shy!fem!r, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1k)

You and Eddie sit on opposite sides of the worn, sunken-in couch — long legs bent at the knees, socked feet wedged neatly beneath your thighs. Your bare calves rest on either side of his lap while his calloused palms rub up and down the length of them. His touch is largely absentminded as he tries hopelessly not to laugh through the punchline of his own joke.

“—And I was like, ‘Boom. You lookin’ for this?’”

You think the brown-eyed look of expectancy he gives you is funnier than anything. You smile wide, hiding the sparkling expression behind your palm.

Eddie meets your beam with a boyish pout. He repeats the punchline, more serious this time. “And I was like, ‘Boom’—”

“I heard you, Eds,” you assure with a small chuckle. A mere breath of a laugh.

His frown deepens. “Oh, c’mon!” he exclaims, lifting his hands in protest. They drop back to your ankles a second later. “That was funny! That always kills with Hellfire!”

You nod rapidly, brows raised and eyes wide, like a parent comforting a child. “It was good,” you assure quickly.

“Then why aren’t you laughing?”

“So, what— I have to laugh if I think something’s funny?”

“Well, that’s usually how it works, yeah,” Eddie monotones with a flat face, nodding until his wild curls sway around his jaw. He shrugs lazily a second later and jokes, “If you’re not a psychopath, at least… You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

You meet his narrowed eyes with a more pensive gaze. Your lips purse to the side of your mouth as you jokingly ponder the silly question. “No,” you answer after a few long moments. “Not yet, anyway.”

Eddie nods like he’s relieved. “Nice.”

“There’s still time, though,” you add with a scrunched nose.

He scrunches the bridge of his back. “I’ll take that risk,” he says with a small huff before lifting his weight on his knuckles. The old couch creaks in protest as he leans over to kiss you. 

With a poorly bitten-back grin, you meet him halfway. Your mouths smack together in a fleeting kiss that tastes faintly of frozen pizza.

You settle back on the arm of the couch with Eddie’s socked toes wriggling under your thighs. His thumbs continue tracing shapes on the insides of your calves. He watches you watch the staticky television screen, too wound up about the whole thing to join in on the stupid sitcom.

The subtly overwhelming feeling bubbles in his throat until it spills like vomit from his mouth. “Do you think I’m not funny or something?” he blurts, then goes all shy right after. “Is that why… Is that why you don’t really laugh at my jokes?”

Your breathy scoff only further proves his point. “I laugh at your jokes all the time, Eds.”

He shrugs, unconvinced. “I mean… I guess. You, like, breathe really hard through your nose or whatever, but you don’t… You don’t laugh.”

“I think if you heard me laugh, you’d break up with me,” you joke and don’t think twice about how self-deprecating it is.

Eddie’s face twists at the thought — that he’d ever want to break up with you, or that there’d be a part of you he wouldn’t automatically adore on instinct. “Why would you say that?” 

You shrug with a vague I don’t know type of sound and turn back to the television. “My laugh is just weird, I guess....”

“No one’s laugh is weird!” Eddie insists. “It’s, like, the one sound people make when they’re happiest— It can’t be weird.”

You flash him a deadpan look of silent disagreement.

He caves.

“Okay. Fine. Dustin Henderson’s laugh is weird,” he concludes. “But… that’s just because he’s Dustin, you know?”

You breathe a faint chuckle at that. Almost like you’ve trained yourself to be as quiet in your laughter as you can. 

“My last boyfriend thought my laugh was annoying,” you confess like it’s no big deal. “So eventually I just kinda… stopped.”

Eddie’s soft features harden into a solemn frown. “What a fucking prick…” he grumbles like a storm cloud.

“It’s okay. I got over it. Mostly.”

He squeezes the backs of your calves with a pair of ringed hands, a warm and reassuring touch. “Well, I don’t think anything you do could annoy me,” Eddie tells you, tilting his head to the side until his wild curls bunch at his shoulders. “Just so we’re clear.”

Something in your chest flutters — like there’s a thousand moths trapped behind your ribcage. “Good to know,” you tease in the same sardonic tone.

Eddie rises suddenly, tugging at your ankles until you’re lying flatter on the couch. A squeal sound in your throat as you watch him rise to his knees and lean over you. He digs his fingers gently into the plush of your sides before you can blink. 

“Get off!” you swat at him, laughing loudly at the tickling sensation before you can help it. The golden sound spills from your lips and fills the dim trailer with so many little sunbeams. 

Your face heats at the proud, lopsided smile Eddie gives you.

“Get off,” you repeat, sterner now but still mostly playful. You’re only slightly surprised when Eddie obeys without pouting. You sit up a bit more and tug your shirt down from where it had ridden up. “And stop looking at me like that.”

Eddie fights to purse his beam to the side of his mouth. Your sparkling, unsmiling disposition is impossible not to smile at. “Can’t help it,” the boy shrugs with a stupid grin. “You’re too cute.”

Your face scrunches in disdain of his compliment. You prop your back against the couch and cross your arms over your chest, averting your gaze to the TV once more. “Just drive me home,” you grumble in protest, hardly meaning it.

“No can do, sweet thing,” Eddie says with a sympathetic sigh, dropping a heavy arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest. You melt begrudgingly into his sloppy embrace. He presses a kiss to your hair and mumbles into your temple. “‘M never letting you go, actually.”

And, despite your very obvious pouting, you pray he never breaks his promise.

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki look im back on my "binghe and airplane are similar and i love it" bullshit

except this time i want these two whiny cut-throat bastards to run a cafe together

like binghe is the chef, obviously, and airplane handles the business side of things, and between the two of them, they absolutely make the cafe succeed through underhanded means

like

could they succeed as a business with just binghe's talents as a cook and qinghua handling the bills while the both of them charmed their way through customer service with their fake ass smiles? abso-fucking-lutely. but would they? oh no

qinghua is like releasing rats into the neighboring cafes and salting their sugar in espionage to make sure that everyone knows that the surrounding coffee is shit and the only place for Good Coffee is their cafe. he's making multiple alts online to just destroy their competition through online reviews and switching out the labels on dairy milk with non-dairy milk so that all the lactose intolerant customers are throwing fits on the regular because look, qinghua knows that a small lil cafe cant stand up to the big chain restaraunts, but he CAN destroy the reputation of all the closest chains to him like an absolute bastard

and oki, maybe binghe doesnt NEED to mansplain, manipulate, and manslaughter his way through everything, but gosh darnit, it's second nature to him. he is absolutely gonna hunt down any threats to their establishment and break their arms. and literally everyone who looks down on his establishment or leaves a bad review or otherwise gets in the path of his vengeance trail? loooookk, he cant be blamed for the way he smiled to their face while stabbing them in the back. they had it coming! they insulted his mothers lemon square recipe and thats an arm breaking offense oki

between the pair of them, they have the entire area quaking in confused fear. cuz okay, something i wanna talk about, the pair of them are two-faced and terrifying but like... 99% of people dont know that lmfao

(off topic but a personal pet peeve of mine is when fanfiction has characters immediately notice that binghe or qinghua are lying liars who lie. like "he smiled but it didnt meet his eyes etc" and im just guys. it's VERY established that the pair of them are VERY GOOD lying liars who lie. binghe's main character trait is that he can lie so convincingly that even shen yuan isn't always sure when he's sincere or not. and qinghua was literally a double agent for HOW LONG without getting caught? dude HAS to have a convincing fake smile. so all im saying is that people wouldnt immediately be able to see through that)

so like, yeah, all the bad luck and shit started happening when these two chuckle-fucks opened up a cafe in the area so like, logically it has to be SOMETHING to do with them but binghe and qinghua are literally the two most harmless and charming lil dudes ever? qinghua looks like a harmless pathetic hamster and binghe will thank you tearfully if you like his lemon squares and these two are literally the most wholesome and sweet business owners in the area so clearly they're not behind it

like i just need people to losing their minds a little bit because bingplane have gaslighted them all into submission like the evil cut-throat two-faced fuckers they are.

i honestly cant decide whats better tho. the pair of them having a drink after work together where the vibes are "lmfao we're so evil lets bask in our victory" glow OR the two of them actually only have a faint idea that the other is ALSO an asshole x'D

oki i think i lean toward the latter bc i think thats funnier.

like binghe doesnt pay much attention to airplane bc, as stated, airplane is a pathetic lil whining worm and he legitimately could not care if the twerp lived or died so long as the taxes are filed on time. but tbh, even then, he's competent enough that he doesnt /need/ qinghua around. it's just kinda convenient to keep him around. so mainly he's just apathetic and ambivalent to qinghua, but like, he does sorta notice because they spend so much time together that theres a distinctly... ratty quality to the dude. like, qinghua disappears for an hour and no less than five minutes after his return theres a roach infestation found in their closest competition? sus as fuck. and theres a little bit of a game recognizing game type of energy, but bc binghe could not be paid to care about qinghua's existence, he doesnt really look into it

similarly, qinghua is like 80% sure that pathetic crybaby of a chef is just that, but also, look, he's not dumb and the last three customers who insulted his lemon squares came back to the cafe in casts and binghe is a little too quick to turn off the customer service charm sometimes. and qinghua has basically decided "i actually really dont wanna know". ignorance is bliss, whatever level of psycho his coworker is, he honestly does not care so long as the crazy fuck continues to bake like a god. he absolutely 100% does not get paid enough to know whether his coworker is a serial killer and he also has the self preservation to understand that the less he knows, the better

so they both kinda have vague hints that the other is a two-faced motherfucker, but it's something that they figured out over time. there was no immediate meeting and "oh i know what you are" it was like "oki we've been working together for a year and yeah, im starting to think this guy isnt what he seems". slowburn them into realizing that they have similar personalities, if you will

now as tempting as it is to taking this au in a bingplane direction bc im ngl, i am multishipping trash, i am much more interested in slowburning this as a friendship. or like, grudging companionship LOL because also that gives the opportunity for:

"i just had to ask the worst person i know for love advice" shenanigans

followed by "the worst person i know gives good love advice, fuck" shenanigans

maybe they're having a drink and it's friendly and binghe kinda jsut wants to go home because again, he does not give a fuck about the fact that qinghua is alive, and qinghua also sorta wants to go home but they've both sorta committed to the "we're friendly coworkers" bit so here they are at a bar and trying to map out the Soonest Possible Good Time To Leave when binghe unthinkingly asks

"how do you get someones attention?" because he kinda ran out of pointless weather-related topics and it was on his mind and he really didnt expect qinghua to give him a half decent answer but then qinghua DOES and also knows who binghe's crush is and also is tactfully NOT saying that he knows who binghe's crush is with the casual "look, as an example, that specific person might like~" type of thing

havent decided on a binghe ship tbh lol. like bingyuan is obvious but also would be fun to do some bingliu or bingmo instead lmao maybe bingning? look im a happy multishipper and binghe is shippable with Many Characters. tho for the purposes of this freeform au thoughtless drabbling, the binghe ship doesnt actually matter so i'll keep it vague lol

the point is that qinghua gives really good fucking advice and binghe is just Not Ready for that because he's absolutely seen what a Nightmare scene it is when qinghua tries to flirt

which is somehow how the two segue into a relationship where they talk about flirting and love interests and that sort of shit in the most "we are two stereotypical gossiping middle school girls on the planet who are giggling and playing truth or dare about our crushes" type of way lmfao

because yeah, they're both cut-throat two-faced assholes, but they're also both utterly Weak in love

might be fun if they cycle through a few different failed crushes, but still kinda have fun at each others houses in like pillow forts with martinis that binghe made and gushing about "omg he was like so cute, did you see the way that he brushed me off? ahh imma die, so hot" because also they realize that they both share a Type. they are both absolutely into the Cold Beauty type, altho luckily they haven't crushed on the same person at the same time Yet, but like, it's only a matter of time okay and they know it and they are fully planning to Destroy the other when the time comes bc it's not bros before hoes for them, ohno, it's "to get that hoe, i will bury my bro in concrete" between them and they both lowkey know it LMFAO

and look, mobei jun did not ask to be the culmination of that particular building battle between them. he just came for coffee okay. what the fuck is happening. why is this is life now.

because okay when the pair of them were crushing on individuals who popped into the cafe or people they met outside, there wasnt any sense of urgency to it because they'd just shoot their shot and usually it wouldnt work out, well, it worked out for binghe whenever he went after chicks but he quickly figured out that he was like Cursed with "women simp after me" virus and while it can be flattering to have a simp, it really isnt fun to DATE a simp, ya know? so those relationships usually ended badly. qinghua just has no game with men or women lol

but see, when they realize that they're BOTH after the same guy, then theres the realization that if they fail, theres actually the chance the other one will Succeed and that would be Bad because then they'd have to see the object of their affections dating a coworker and NOPE NO CANT DO IT, WOULD MURDER HIM, I NEED TO GET THAT MAN JUST TO SPARE MY COWORKER FROM BEING MURDERED. THIS IS REALLY ALTRUISTIC OF ME ACTUALLY

so now they're just A LOT more persistent than they've ever been before lmfao they are pulling all the stops, they are using every weakness, they are ready to fucking WRECK the competition

maybe i should aim for a bingyuanmoshang ot4 endgame lmfao. mobei jun and shen yuan are just a happily married poly couple and shen yuan is having the time of his life laughing his ass off every time his husband comes home from the coffee shop like "i dont know whats going on but im scared and weirdly horny" and when bingplane realize that the solution is that mobei jun has two hands (and a very attractive husband), things calm down lmfao

or alternate route for this path, instead of them both thirsting after mobei jun, shang qinghua just has the most pathetic crush in the world, so luo binghe decides to have mercy on his coworker and be a wingman. only he Very Accidentally catches mobei jun's attention instead and now airplane is actually kinda lowkey ready to kill him bc he thinks that binghe snaked him but for once binghe is innocent! he didnt mean to do it! and it's moshang endgame when mobei jun gets over his crush on binghe and notices the angry hamster desperate for his attention

OR OR OR WAIT I THINK I THOUGHT OF THE VERSION I LIKE BEST

oki instead of bingplane actively seeking out love at every corner, what if they're just not. like they do bond over crushes and stuff but actually they're kinda too busy with the cafe and life and hobbies to really think about romance more than a "omg he was so cute~" kind of way. so neither of them notice when they have customers who are just Actively trying to ask them out

like mobei jun has been desperately trying to flirt with the oblivious barista for MONTHS now and he's actually dying because qinghua will just say shit like "wow you're literally the most handsome guy ive ever seen" but then brush him off when mobei jun tries to ask him out bc qinghua just assumes he isnt serious and he's busy with the expresso machine and he has no idea that this man is just PINING behind him while he sighs pathetically to binghe later abt "man it's fun having crushes but dont you just wish someone could like you instead?" and binghe just like "look im actually desirable, cannot relate"

thinking bingliu route for this version bc i feel like liu qingge is just a lot more fitting for Uselessly Pining After The Barista than shen yuan is lol. also his attempts at flirting are basically just picking fights with binghe and he always loses and binghe has absolutely no idea how far gone qingge is for him LMFAO

also now that i think about it, mobei jun should be kinda bad at flirting as well LOL so shang qinghua is like 90% sure that mobei jun sorta wants to kill him

bingplane having their weekly gossip sesh in a pillowfort like "man oki idk why they keep coming to the cafe if they hate us so much... but also man they make for good eye candy, if they werent such assholes, i could see having a crush" and then maybe a terrible game of truth or dare results in both of them daring each other to flirt with the Mean Eyecandy Man and now moliu are about to get Wrecked LMFAO

look basically i think that this sort of au could go in multiple very delicious directions but at the base, i just want evil comrades bingplane running a cafe together with all of the gap moe in the world LMFAO

[weepingtalecowboy]

Hyrule Warriors strategy lol

Fanfic prompt: A thing I absolutely love about Hyrule warriors is how the game needs strategy and how said strategy evolves

You go from

“Please go there I will carry you there but please don’t run off”

Too

“GET OVER HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND OR ELSE…!,!”

like you end up barking orders like a literal drill sergeant

You have absolutely no faith that anyone would go where they need to

I spent more time in the menu barking orders than I did actually holding and taking over zones

Even funnier is how replaying the game absolutely makes a difference

Where in games like windwaker or twilight princess you are forced to progress slowly through the game

No matter how good you get at them you still need to wait for bosses to enter second and third phase

Or more specifically need to either tear down the barrier (or skip it but that’s hard) or turn into a hylian in both games

The only thing that changes is that you can play the game better and more reliably than before

In Hyrule warriors the learning curve makes replaying the game hilarious

Because the second you genuinely understand the strategy for the game you play it completely differently

Fighting Volga the first time is literally more about precisely mashing buttons and aiming at him every single time than anything else

I beat him in like ten seconds flat

Like from a time travel fix it perspective Hyrule warriors let’s you do everything immediately

Like imagine warriors getting sent back in time to the first ever fight in Hyrule warriors and literally the second he gets promoted he goes full drill sergeant mode on people

Where first time you learn the usefulness of dragging people to do stuff rather late

You also eventually don’t trust anyone to do stuff if you aren’t outright controlling them immediately

This time around warriors got the confidence to scream at people right after he got the promotion lol

It probably looks so funny when a near new recruit gets the audacity to threaten everyone the second he gets promoted

And then out drill sergeants a higher up and finishes missions in like half an hour the most (respect speed run )

But only because he scared everyone into obedience (like npcs run like they would die if they don’t get to the ordered position right this second)

And kept tabs on all the zones that need to be held

While also ignoring literally every enemy except the generals , redeads and other special forces (honestly redeads make NPCs a new level of ineffective… way to slow)

Only doing side missions for two seconds and then doing the main ones exclusively

And boosting moral like crazy (because of how fast you get side missions done)

You legitimately become a tank at some point in Hyrule warriors and not even replaying the entire game would balance it out

Tune and mask probably feared the captain when he went drill sergeant (and you go drill sergeant way too often in this game)

We need more drill sergeant warriors in the fandom

Because in the game nobody disobeys your orders and runs like their lives depend on it

The chain needs to experience drill sergeant warriors when fighting a boss (maybe dink)

No honor for the evil … you trap them in a corner and keep beating them into submission and don’t stop until they disintegrate

Cia didn’t even have a chance lol

We need more time travel where the character simply immediately becomes their best possible form because they simply had a growing as a person arc they could skip this time around

Arguing with that guy about stuff involving missions is probably not recommended

Time and wind just sit back and watch as warriors get into drill sergeant mode and wait till one of the links gets to do pushups

You have better luck with literally any other type of discussion but not military or mission related lol