#and having him around makes things funnier by the second

[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."

[anomaliex]

Kind of a weird one, but I think it'd be cute if Zayn instructed Adaine on how to put on nail polish.

It just doesn't seem like a thing she got to play around with much, not even because the Abernants would be against it or anything but just because that poor girl was so repressed and uncomfortable in that house at all times. I think it just didn't even occur to her to play around with her appearance? She probably didn't get into makeup in the sense of self expression either, I just think it would've been expected of her to know how to "look presentable" (like cover up imperfections but never do anything too bold or unnatural). By fifteen a lot of teenage girls do makeup right? Idk, never got into it. But yeah Adaine was very stiff and always looked a certain way and never really personally decided what to look like until Highschool.

Then her friends help her pick out clothes, and I like to think Fig and Fabian cut her hair at some point. (And it's not even that big of a difference, but it just feels good to have a haircut that she herself asked for specifically, if that makes sense?) And then when she befriends Zayn, and maybe probably when they're in Mordred, it's just like hey yeah Zayn bedazzled himself he knows this stuff. Sitting in her wizard tower with him hovering next to her, being her second opinion on colours and "oh it's okay, don't worry too much about getting it on your skin it's easy to scrub off after it's dried". Reassurance and the occasional tip as teenage girl kind of anxiously sits in her room free (in a sense) of her shitty parents for the first time and feeling kind of euphoric about getting to be "normal" and silly?

I imagine if Adaine got comfortable enough in her own skin and processed some more of her trauma between junior and senior year and like, started being interested in other people she'd confide in Zayn about crushes and they'd be stupid highschoolers talking about cute people. I don't know if I think Adaine gets to that point?? But it's a cute hypothetical haha. For what it's worth I think Oisin (post rage crystal and very ashamed) has a crush on her and when she notices and tells Zayn he's like girl ew. Kill him?? He's very dramatic in my head. Or, I guess he's dramatic canonically lol. But I think he's more petty. He's funnier if he's petty.

Zayn isn't that important anymore when he stops being plot relevant so their friendship isn't expanded on a lot, but from what we've seen it's very dear to me. Cute wizard friends with shitty parents (and a big part of said shittiness is caused by conservative elven values) to bond over :)

[shinkai-kaiju]

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

[junonreactor]

right. so

[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...)

[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)

[lumibuns-blog]

Ghost x Soaps roomie

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

Sorry this is a bit late🙏 the next part will have more Simon and reader alone heheh.

It was around 6pm when you finally did get back, the elevator in your and Johnny's building had been out of service for what felt like forever, so you made the trek up six flights of stairs all while carrying all of that week's groceries.

Simon sat in the one arm chair of your living room while Johnny and Kyle took the couch. The TV played some rugby game that was of absolutely no interest to Simon. Usually he liked to relax and watch with his mates but his mind was currently all too aware of everything around him.

You had surely sat in this chair at some point? Was he being intrusive by sitting in it? Had you picked out the rug that laid between him and the TV? Actually scratch that, the busy pattern gave away the fact that Johnny must have made that purchase. It was like he could feel your presence in the very air around him, not to mention his constant anticipation of wanting you to come back. Would he actually talk to you once you did? Probably not if he was being realistic but part of him hoped you could see into his mind and understand how happy it made him feel to simply be in your presence.

A loud knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, it was silent for a moment, the another knock, louder and more intense.

Almost out of instinct Simon started to get up so that he could get the door.

"Nah give it just a second mate" Johnny began from his place on the couch, him in Kyle's interest no longer being captured by the game "it's funnier if ya jus' wait a tic"

"The hell are you-" Kyle began

"JOHN MACTAVISH I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE" you yelled exasperatedly through the door

"Aye ya 'ave a key don'tcha?" Johnny quipped

"Really mate-" Kyle began again

"I just carried all of our groceries up like six flights of stairs, now get your ass off the couch and open the goddamn door" There was a chilling lack of emotion in your voice as you continued to berate him

Simon, without a second thought, finished getting up and strode over to the door

"Aw you're no fun" Johnny groaned "usually I wait 'bout 5 minutes, till she starts makin' death threats" he laughed

Simon just rolled his eyes a began to open the door

"You are one selfish bastard you know tha- oh! Hey sorry, didn't know it was you opening the door" he watched your annoyed face slowly turn into one of relief as you smiled up at him. 2 bags of groceries in each hand, silently he took all four of them from you while propping the door open with his heal, giving you enough room to enter.

You short circuited momentarily as his hands brushed against yours, still slightly shocked you managed a "you really don't have to do that...but that you" as you slipped into the apartment.

Simon resolved that he really did need to do that because the smile you had given him made his whole body feel like it was on fire. You made your way to the couch as he let the door close

"Honestly I really should have known it was one of you two" you sighed "This asshole would have left me out there another 10 minutes" as if to punctuate your point, you delivered a quick, but harsh slap to the back of Johnny's head.

Kyle failed to stifle a laugh at his friends clearly exaggerated, upset expression "deserved 'hat one soap" he cackled

You made your way to the kitchen where Simon was, once again wordlessly, beginning to put away the groceries he had grabbed. You flitted over to his side, a warm smile on your face.

"You really don't have to do that" you said reaching to take a stick of butter out of his hand

He immediately held it up away from your reach. " 'S fine" was all he said before opening the fridge and continuing to put things away as you rushed to try and help.

"Such a bloody gentleman aren'tcha Lt." Johnny chimed, him and Kyle making their way to the kitchen, the rugby game long forgotten.

"Bloody stubborn is more like it" you teased, mocking your roommates accent and shooting a glance at the man in question.

"Someone's outta do it" Simon shrugged

"Look at that!" Kyle clapped his hand over Johnny's back "you even find a way to weasel out'a chores at home, ay soap?"

"Oh don't worry, I make him do the dishes" you laughed

"Ya didnea make me a do a 'thing 'bon" Johnny grumbled "I choose 'a do the dishes 'cause you do the cookin'"

"Really? I didn't know choosing required so much whining and convincing" you smirked, back turned to him. Though it was true you did do most, if not all the cooking. Johnny had tried to cook two times at the apartment, set off a fire alarm one time and ruined a pan the other. So you took care of the cooking, just doubling the proportions when he was home from deployment, it was cheaper to cook anyways. Not to mention you can always force him to order take out if you really don't feel like it.

"I dinnae whine missy" Johnny mused, faking a genuine offense

"Yeah whatever you say missy" you smirked over your shoulder at seeing his perturbed expression when you mocked him "well what do you want for dinner then?"

You turned to face all three men, who had now congregated on the other side of the kitchen island, now that Simon had finished helping with the groceries.

"Oh! can ya' make that one pasta-" Johnny started

You cut him off almost immediately "I'm not your asking you dumbass" you chided "I was asking our guests" you gestured over Simon and Kyle with an expectant look on your face.

"Ya see this lads?" Johnny huffed "look at what I 'ave to put up wit', in ma' own home no less!"

"I'd be meaner if you weren't in the lease"

"Ah!" Johnny clutched his heart like he had been shot "ya don' really mean that now do 'ya?"

You continued to banter with your roommate while Gaz watched with genuine intrigue. Simon on the other hand was having a bit of a moment. He can't even remember the last time he had a home cooked meal, not to mention having someone offer to cook him whatever he wanted. He was a bit jealous of his friend, who obviously got to have your food whenever he was home for deployment. He tried to think of something he would like to eat but his mind was so overwhelmed he couldn't think straight.

"You really are a pain in my ass" you grumbled

"Ah ya know I love things in ma' arse"

"Ew Johnny what the fuck!? You're so gross!" You threw a kitchen towel at him

Kyle broke out of his laughing fit just long enough to actually make a request "if you're offerin', I'd kill for some proper chicken noodle soup" he smiled "stuff on base 's just glorified water"

Simon silently cursed himself for being too slow but really anything made by you sounded like heaven.

"Hm let me see if we have chicken stock" you turned to look in one of the cabinets below the sink, bending over. Simon watched as your sweat pants hugged your ass perfectly as you bent over. It suddenly became very hot in the flat and he was having a hard time swallowing, not to mention figuring out where to look so he just quickly turned his head away to look at a very interesting spot on the wall.

Soap elbowed Gaz, pointing to get him to look at their friend, and a knowing smirk adorned both their faces.

"Yep we'll have plenty!" You smiled, standing up and turning around. Simon couldn't decide whether he was relieved or disappointed at your change of position. "Give me an hour and I'll set you all straight" you turned on the stove and Simon jumped slightly as it clicked, the hell had gotten into him?

It didn't take you long to whip up something to eat, and within the hour all four of you were perched on your high top stools around the kitchen island.

You watched as Ghost took off his face mask to eat. In every picture you had been forced to see, he always had a full a skull mask on, completely covering his whole face. So it had already been a shock when you saw him with just a small face covering, but seeing him with nothing covering his face confirmed what you had long suspected. This man was fucking gorgeous.

Kyle, Johnny, and you all dug in immediately, the two men just happy to have a good meal and you being starving from your trip to the gym and trek up the stairs. Simon however, remained unmoving as he sat directly across from you. You had tied your hair back to keep it out of your way, only a few loose strands slipping down by your face. He watch as you blew on the soup before gently lifting it to your mouth, he watched as your lip curled at Johnny's obnoxious slurping and hurried eating style. He could have watched you forever, he wanted to just silently observe every action and idiosyncrasy you made. You fascinated him with your every move and how you seemed to be so gentle yet so direct with your words and actions captivated him.

His moment of quiet observance didn't last much longer as Johnny piped up, "ya know ya can eat it, right Ghost?" He asked with eyebrow raised "I know the chicken might be a tad bit raw, but she isn't that bad of a cook" he teased

"It is not raw!" You slapped his forearm are glared up at him from your chair

You whipped back around to face Simon "if ya don't like it ghost I can whip up something else" you asked him with genuine concern

"No no 's fine I jus' got-"

"Aye I think he likes it a little too much is all love" Kyle grinned nudging his friend's side

"Knock it off" Simon growled

"Was just teasin," Kyle chuckled putting his arms up in the air to show his submission.

You looked at him with a slightly befuddled expression, not quite understanding what they were trying to communicate to you. As if sensing your confusion, within seconds Simon had pounded down the entire bowl and was timidly asking if he could have second. You just smiled and got up to get him more.

"Aye can ya get me some more 's well 'bon" Johnny called behind his shoulder

"No"

"Why is he gettin' special treatment eh?"

"Because he isn't a pain in my ass all day, now go and get it yourself man, ya have legs"

Johnny reluctantly got up to get his own seconds, not before mumbling a quiet "and you wonder why you're single" under his breath that you very much heard

"What did you just say?" You questioned

"Think it's pretty clear ya 'eard me" he taunted

"Your no better than I am dipshit, last girl you invited over stood ya up"

"Oye dinnae embarrass me in front 'a ma lads!" he scoffed

"Don't pick a fight you can't win" you shrugged

He grumbled and rolled his eyes as he sat back down but he didn't miss the flash of opportunity in his friend's eyes having learned you were, in fact, single.

"She didnae stand me up" Johnny began to defend himself "she jus' lived 2 hours away a couldn't get 'ere with 'er schedule an' all"

Without missing a beat you retorted "yeah I don't blame 'er, would've been a waste to drive 2 hours for 2 minutes"

"You little-" Johnny began before being cut off by Gaz's hysterical laughter and Ghost's hacking as he choked on his soup.

"Now look what ya've done!" Johnny accused, still trying to control his friend's laughter

"Oh god ya miserable bastard" Kyle wiped a tear from his eye "every time I think it can't get worse for you mate"

Johnny just scowled before turning back to you "jus' wait till I reveal all a your shite, won't be so fuckin' funny then aye?"

You continued to banter between yourselves as Kyle and Simon slowly regained their composure.

"How the 'ell did you two even end up as roommates?" Simon finally asked, causing you to both immediately cease your arguing and look towards him.

"I had to"

"Cuz we're mates"

You both answered him at the same time and Johnny turned back to you, an exaggeratedly hurt expression across his face.

"I thought ya liked me lass?" He gasped

"Do I act like I like you?" You questioned him, stifling a laugh

"Away 'n bile yer heid" he snapped

Though the moment might have seemed tense, anybody with eyes could see the adoration you two had for each other, banter had become almost a type of platonic love language for you both. It had become practically impossible to stay mad at someone who was smirking just as much as you.

Simon took a moment to take it all in. The moment, though heated, held a sort of domesticity to it. You two seemed so natural in the way you spoke with each other, and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. What if you and Johnny had something going on? Some sort of unsaid romantic feelings? I mean he wasn't for sure but it wouldn't be outside the realm of possibilities seeing as you two lived together already. He didn't want it to be the case but that might be the inevitable option all things considered-

As Johnny stood up to clean his plate, without missing a beat or even looking in his direction, you delivered a fatal nut tap to the poor man and he practically crumbled to the floor

"Shit" he choked out "That...was low"

You just smirked in response

Yeah, Simon's previous sporadic thoughts left head, that defiantly wasn't the case.

If you like this there's more on my profile or under the first tag + I'll be writing more in the future<3

Tag list:

@weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @eclecticmentalitypersona

I'm so sorry idk how tags work🙏🙏🙏

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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.

.

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Masterlist

[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...

[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.

[illbegottenfaith]

2001 - theo nott x reader

Honey, what you runnin' from? When you comin' back to bed? Toss and turnin' all night long with me instead Honey, what you runnin' from? Where the hell you headed to? Do you like the way I run after you?

or, theo doesn’t understand what’s holding you back from taking things further

a/n - I think I would classify this soft core smut at best? But adding an 18+ tag jic

tropes/warnings - 18+ MDNI, fluff

word count - 1.6k

“Fucking hell. Hide me.”

You shrunk yourself down the best that you could behind your best friend, Ivy, laser-focused on the boy at the other end of the hallway. Ivy rolled her eyes, making no effort to help.

“I can’t believe you still won’t tell me what happened that night. It can’t have been that bad.”

“It was,” you muttered, stupidly trying to get Ivy to cooperate. It was no easy task, especially on days like today when she was feeling particularly stubborn, which was a problem since the boy looked fully intent on approaching them.

“Will you relax? You look like an idiot. Like an even bigger idiot than usual. He probably doesn’t even remember whatever-“

“Ivy. Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the party.”

Damn. You thought you had more time. Curse him and his unfairly long legs. Ivy did the grown-up thing, which was literally anything other than pretending she didn’t see him. “It’s alright, Theo. You can make it up to me next year.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice, actually. We got a discount on -“

Ivy was cut off by a gentle tug, revealing a hunched-over you. You straightened hastily, clearing your throat, refusing to meet his gaze.

“L/N.”

“Nott.”

“Planning on dropping by tonight?”

You put on a straight face, looking politely confused. “Hm?”

“The party. Tonight.”

“Oh. Where?”

Theo narrowed his eyes, and your face burned under the intensity of his gaze. It took everything you had to keep your features schooled while he shamelessly searched your face for what felt like far too long.

“The Slytherin common room,” he replied, finally tearing his eyes away from you. You relaxed, blinking hard and a little breathless, your palms a little clammy. “Can’t miss it. Just follow the stench of firewhiskey and bad ideas.”

Internally, you nearly passed out. Externally, you shrugged noncommittally. “Sure. Maybe.” Definitely not. You weren’t going to spend a second longer in Theo’s presence if you could help it. 

You and Ivy get to the party and, as expected, you’re abandoned the second she finds Ivan through the crowd. You wander around before you decide to join a group of Slytherins on the couches, next to Theo. You get handed a drink. It burns your throat and makes your eyes water. The loud bass starts to sound more tolerable. Another drink. Theo’s frowning at you. You wonder if anyone’s told him how good concern looks on his face. Everything is now ten times funnier. You press up against Theo, laughing yourself silly, leaning into his touch as he drapes an arm around you. Another drink. You’re more than lightly flushed. Theo places a hand on your thigh. You don’t move it away. 

Eventually, you end up pressed against the door of Theo’s room, your mouths a heady mess of heat, teeth and tongues, your bodies moulding to each other’s. Your eyes flutter shut, blissfully able to let go with your senses dulled by alcohol. You can’t tell if it’s the music or your pulse vibrating through your body, but you’re aching for his touch. He presses a knee against your core and you groan into his mouth, melting into a boneless mush in his arms.

“Theodore,” you sighed desperately, breath catching in your throat. It was enough to slow his ministrations on your neck which had been filling your head with the most delicious kind of static. You never used his first name despite your best friends being glued by the lips since sixth year, mostly because you never went beyond exchanging civil pleasantries. Occasionally, you’d have a chat that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, or you’d let your thoughts wander to his disarming blue eyes or wicked smile, but that was it. It never did, and it never could, go any further than that. You were too different. It would never work. You’d only be setting yourself up for heartbreak. Nothing good could come of entangling with the illustrious Theodore Nott, figuratively or otherwise.

And to use his first name was to acknowledge the existence of this softer, kinder Theo - a version worlds away from that Nott boy with the aloof face and the piercing eyes. He hummed against your neck, thumbs restlessly skimming the waistband of your skirt.

“We can’t - we shouldn’t,” you continued, once you were able to make sense of your fuzzy thoughts. You pushed him back gently, cool air rushing in to douse the heat of the moment. “Our friends have a whole thing. We’d only get in the way. It’s just a bad idea.”

His hands stilled on your hips. “I don’t understand. What about our thing?”

He looked so dazed and so adorably dishevelled that you almost felt sorry for him. It was late, Theo’s words sounded dangerously close to slurring, and if you were being honest, you should have left the party hours ago. You stroked his cheek absentmindedly before gingerly slipping out of his hold, recovering your shirt. You slipped it on, fumbling at rhe buttons with trembling fingers, and turned back to see Theo still watching you, uncomprehending, his swollen lips parted in confusion.

“Get some sleep, Nott. You’ll get what I mean in the morning.”

“Bye, Theo,” Ivy was saying now. “Give Ivan a kiss for me.”

“Should I feel him up while I’m at it?”

“It only seems right to give him the full experience.”

Ivy grinned as he walked off while you all but dragged her down the hall towards your next class.

“Aw, come on, Y/N, he’s not that bad.” She glanced at you, eyes twinkling with mirth. “You know, I always thought he has a thing for y-“

“Aren’t you late for Herbology?”

Ivy cursed as she fumbled at her wristwatch, hurrying down the corridor. In about a minute, she’d realise that she didn’t have Herbology today, but you decided to let her find that out herself.

Hours later, you were holed up in the library, desperately trying to plug your ears with all the ruckus going on floors below. Trying to focus was a losing battle.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Your head snapped up too see Theo leaning against one of the bookshelves. Busted. To be fair, she was nowhere near the world’s best liar, so it was doubtful whether he had even believed her in the first place.

“Nott,” you greeted, in a pleasant enough voice. “Is that the time? I hadn’t realised the party had already started.”

The music continued blasting, more than audible to the two of them. Theo arched an eyebrow, slowly walking over, and you had the decency to look embarrassed over your bald-faced lie.

“I was planning to drop by later.”

“Well, you should.”

“Maybe I will:”

“It’s almost as fun as that last party ages ago.”

You stiffened at the memory. “Ah. Yes.”

Theo leaned over you, broad-shouldered and hypnotising. He dragged his gaze across you inch by agonising inch, undressing you with his eyes. You were starting to feel uncomfortably warm in your uniform. He dropped his voice.

“First and last time I see you in my bed, hmm?”

You choked, failing to suppress the shiver prickling over your skin. “That’s - stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Talking like…that.” You felt your face heat up all over again, cursing yourself for your inability to even pretend to keep your cool in front of him. “Looking at me like that.”

His gaze flickered to your chest, so brief you’d have missed it if you blinked. “Like what?” 

You let out a frustrated, overwhelmed sigh, your brain becoming oddly fixated on the memory of his hands on your hips, travelling up your ribcage, at the nape of your neck, grip tightening on your waist -

“Go on. Use your words.”

His breath tickled the shell of your ear, the closest he’d been to you since that night. 

“Like…like you actually want me. Like I’m something special.”

“You are something special.”

You groaned and looked away. “I’m seeing someone,” you tried, half-heartedly. Theo snorted.

“What, that Davies guy? Yeah, like that’s going to last.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel all that indignant on Davies’ behalf. Not that you were going to let Theo know that. “I’ll have you know that Mac is a perfect gentleman.”

“My point is-“ Theo started, irritatedly. You took a perverse sort of pleasure in ruffling his feathers. “- why the fuck are we talking about Davies when you could be in my bed, doing far more interesting things with that mouth?”

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Perhaps you like having me run after you. Is that where you get off, hmm? The thrill of the chase? Being a tease?”

“I am not a -“ you began hotly, before you caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You rolled your eyes. “You’re too cocky for your own good,” you muttered. 

“I thought you like me cocky,” he teased. His expression softened the next second and you watched him trace lazy circles on your wrist.

“Besides…I’ve never tried this hard to get into someone’s pants.”

You gave a shaky laugh. Theo bent down once more, this time to press a kiss to your lips, then another, and another, until you were lying on your back on the table, looking sinfully ravished, blouse long forgotten.

One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

[ayu-stuff]

Edge for Mommy, sweetie

"HAHAHA I can't stop laughing. Just had a shower at your Daddy's place while you're at work with your poofy, childish pull-ups under your clothes! I hope some coworker of yours gets a peek at your cute little waistband. Are you wet honeyy???? Does Mommy's little baby need a change?

Gosh you're pathetic. He fucked me raw, btw. Not that you know what that even means... How long has it been since you don't see Daddy naked? Do you even remember what his big paci looks like? I bet a certain someone doesn't like the parental controls I had installed on all your devices... 😂😂

I bet you'd love it if I dropped my towel now. Such a shame I'm not doing it 😂🥰. But here, you can admire my womanly curves. Does it hurt knowing you're flat as a board and chubby as any 2-year-old toddler? Realizing that the most mature action you'll ever get is your messy humpy time in your crib? Which —I'm pleased to announce you— I record every time through the baby monitor. My friends absolutely love it.🥰

When you get home, you're getting a spanking from Dada. Just because I want to. I'm the Woman of the house now, sweetie, and you're just our clueless little daughter. Have I told you about the baby shower I'm organizing for you next week? Everyone's gonna come to get to know our cute little tot. My personal goal is to make you cry out of shame🥰.

You're 32 and I'm 25, I know, honey. But that makes it so much funnier!! Imagine how good it feels to make you run around the house all nakey-nakey, with a baby-food-stained bib as the only garment you're allowed. Cheeks all blushy and smelly from the baby mush you couldn't get inside your little mouth. Smooth, hairless skin below your neck, with a hilarious baby powder scent mixed with piss. No tits in sight. Just two childish mosquito bites. It's incredibly funny for me HAHAHA.

This afternoon, after your spanking, you're getting an enema and a diaper. And straight to bed with you😂😂. Messy little babies need a lot of sleepy time, don't they? Not as if you could get out of your crib without Mommy's or Daddy's help. I'm sure you will love to hear Daddy's moans through the baby monitor the whole night. I'm planning on sucking him off as you never managed to.

But for now, I want you to go to the nearest bathroom stall. I want a selfie in less than 3 minutes. Only in your wet pull-ups. Hurry up, kiddo.

And you're going to start edging at my video. You haven't been allowed to see so much nudity in months, squirt, so I want you to enjoy it. It's too much for such a young, pure soul like you to watch me almost naked. Almost.

But no cumming, though.

Edge to the body of the woman who destroyed your life and regressed you to the state of an infant.

Edge to the woman who now controls if, and when your messy diapers get changed, as well as how much humpy time you're allowed a month. I want to narrow it down to 30 seconds, what do you think?

Edge for me while thinking about all the things you're not allowed anymore just because I am the grown-up now, and you're the baby.

Edge for me while at work, half-naked and sobbing, knowing that anyone you know could enter the restroom and hear you moaning.

Gosh, you're pathetic. 😂😂😂

Edge for Mommy, sweetie."