#and its weird to be all like that after A Months

[ghost-proofbaby]

september love (e.m.)

eddie finds you awake on the first night he's home from the hospital, and wonders what you're thinking.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of canon ending of season 4, except eddie didn't die. mentions of hospital and medical procedures (in passing). sort of sad, sort of not. a little bit of angst? hurt/comfort. religious imagery (specific mentions of heaven).

wc: 1.7k+

an: this was just some sort of weird rambling upon seeing the poem mentioned above at like 11 pm? 1 am? who knows. time is a construct. also, reader is compared to a 'violent' dog/animal during eddie's recovery, and if you like this metaphor/vibe, then i strongly suggest and urge you to go read @myosotisa's fic Half Life. she does it far more beautifully than i ever could, and it is one of my favorite fics. ever.

Your head is on his chest. 

Your temple and your ear are flush with the soft cotton of his wrinkled t-shirt, the one he insisted upon sleeping on his first night home, and it’s all you can think about. The smell of week old laundry, the stubborn linger of a cologne gifted too long ago to remember the worn name of. A steady heartbeat that still pumps along a little too slow for your liking. The rise and fall of each promised breath that you force your lungs to pace themselves with. Just enough heat radiating off of him to keep you warm, here in bed, here in the dim light of twilight as he rests.

No tubes and no IVs to worry about. No nurses barging in every ten minutes. No beeping of a dozen machines to be your symphony tonight. 

No, you don’t need a machine now to keep track of his heart rate. You’ve learned to do that entirely on your own; your heart has learned how to match his with each dulled thump against the skin you cling to through this dingy old t-shirt.

It can’t be long after 3 AM, the moonlight almost as bright as a rising sun as it peeks itself in through the curtains of the window, as if whispering to check if you might still be awake.

And you are. And all you can think about, is your head on his chest. 

It’s been over a month since you’ve had this type of moment with Eddie. A moment where you’re truly, sincerely, utterly alone with him. Privacy had become a delicacy that you weren’t aware of the fragility of. You hadn’t understood its importance until you had to bask in its absence, always on edge for the next body to walk into the room and take the air out of your lungs. Always anxious for the next sound of news, always worried for the next shoe to drop. 

You’d forgotten what it had felt like for Eddie to twitch his fingers along your spine in his sleep, and for you to be the only witness to his quiet worship, even unconscious. 

Your lips part, and you almost consider whispering hard truths into the trembling night air. There’s a million and one dying words cementing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and you know that every single one you could even manage to utter would only make you sound like a broken record. 

I’m sorry this happened to you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it. 

All things already said to him when he had been drifting in and out of consciousness in that hospital bed. All apologies already buried between muted sobs as you’d clutched his knuckles a little tighter than you should have, a little too selfish in the moment to wonder if it might be hurting him. The only thing on your mind had been keeping him, holding him, feeling him. He was alive – he was alive. And for the first seven nights of his endless rest, all you could wonder is for just how much longer that desperate prayer could ring true.

Would he leave you again? Would he lose the fight? 

You can’t recall without bias which one of you had been the true wounded animal in that little room, scented with burning bleach and cacophonies of nearby patients just beyond the curtains. 

Eddie, looking up at the police who had finally come once he woke, eyes big and teary as he’d tried to wrap his head around his new reality.

You, baring teeth and claws at them in the end, ready to bite hard at anyone who got too close.

It wasn’t just the police. It was everyone. 

It was the same juxtaposition between the two of you at those nurses who would interrupt the nights, always frowning so dutifully at the sight of your carefully curled figure at Eddie’s side. When friends and family came to visit, and they all had the same look of disbelief. As if they were about to tell you that you had imagined it all; he hadn’t survived, he hadn’t come back to you, you were imagining it. You’d been all bark and awaiting bite towards Steve Harrington and the newly revived Jim Hopper, all the same. Their figures bore no difference to you when it came to protecting what was so holy to you. Him, Eddie, here and alive. Eddie, who slept enough for the both of you those nights. The pain in your back from all the uncomfortable hours spent in that little chair at his bedside was insignificant, all the headaches you’d endured from the smell of iodine that still clung to the air after every surgery were pitiful attempts at the Universe removing you from him. 

If you could, you might try to recall your reaction when Dustin Henderson had babbled on through tears as to what had happened to Eddie when the two were left alone. His final act of heroism, or so he thought. 

But you can’t. Right here, right now, you aren’t capable of living in the past. You’ve been haunted enough these last few weeks, and all your numb mind can handle is counting the beats of his heart. Like the rhythm of a song – 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. Staccato verses that you sometimes whisper in time, getting worried when they don’t follow the infallible metronome you’ve set for him. 

“You’re still awake.”

The murmur of his voice is a drink of cold water, startling in the dark greys and blues wrapping the two of you up. 

You lift your head ever so slightly against your better judgment, “Go back to sleep, love.” 

“Touche.” 

You can see his grin even through the shadows. It’s weak, not yet quite as vibrant as it once had been, but it’s there. He’s still alive. He’s still grinning. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pads of his fingertips are more intentional against your spine now, longer strokes and mindless shapes, “I’ve got a penny in my pocket if you tell me.”

His words are only slightly slurred. Probably residual of the pain medication they’d prescribed him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” you say, and you mean it.

You hadn’t been thinking. You had just been listening to his heart and his breaths, feeling the weight of him beneath you. 

Little things you had taken for granted once upon a time. Never again, your soul aches as you let your head drop back to his chest carefully. Never again.

“You’re just laying awake, not thinking about anything, at…” he trails off, turning his cheek and squinting in the direction of the alarm clock across the room. The glow is dim, and you know you’ll have to change the batteries soon, “Four in the morning?”

4 AM. Last you had checked, it had been 3 AM. You hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?” you smile up at him, and it’s just as sincere as your words had been. When his honey brown eyes meet yours, warmth drizzles down your entire being. Across your brain, down your spine, wrapping around your limbs. You could spend an eternity here, simmering in his warmth, content to your heart’s fullest capability. 

You’d almost lost him. You’d almost lost this warmth. 

You take a second to memorize his features. Studying him as if you didn’t already know every curvature, every freckle, every winkle better than you knew your own soul. You’re looking at him as if you may never look at him again, and he can tell. 

He doesn’t have to say that he gets it. His hand simply wanders up to cup your face, basking in you as you were him. Two souls, intertwining over overlapping legs and synchronized heartbeats, and he doesn’t have to say a word. 

The moment his fingers card into your baby hairs, you’re turning your mouth quickly to that warm palm. One, two, three kisses. Quick pecks, rapid succession. A secret language that you know he, and only ever he, can begin to understand. 

I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

It drowns out all sorrow, all guilt, all hauntings. Your cracked lips, and the feeling of those lines across his palms. If there is a Heaven, it’s not somewhere in a pearly gated kingdom above. There are no hark angels and there is no bearded man awaiting. 

It’s here. It’s now. It’s 4 AM, in bed with your lover, getting to experience moments you’d come so close to losing for eternity. 

Do the poets know? They must. All the love, all the adoration, in both your bodies is too abundant for them to not feel it. To not write about it. 

“Go back to bed, love,” you repeat almost a perfect imitation of your first command when he had awakened, and this time, his eyelids flutter with your words, “I’m not gonna disappear between now and sunrise. I promise.” 

“No,” he quickly whispers back as his eyes fully shut, and your palms smooth out the wrinkles of the shirt to feel the ridges of scars hidden for now. Scars he’s ashamed of, for now. Scars you’d one day show all the love in the world to, sacred proof that he came back to you, only once he was ready. One day. “But you’re looking at me like I might.”

His words are heavy in the shades of violet now sinking into the room. But the moon is high in her sky, and the crickets are chirping to the East, and he’s right.

You’re terrified the daylight will steal him from you. You’re terrified the new day might tear away all that you’ve sunk your teeth into. 

“I’m not going to,” he mumbles around a yawn, arms slowly encasing you, pulling you in closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Yeah?” 

He’s back with that warmth, coaxing you right back into heavenly notions with him. You let him; he baits you, and you follow. 

“Yeah.”

It’s a sigh. Of hopefulness, of relief, of belief. 

This time, the I love you is more than a prayer repeated in your mind. And he somehow manages to say it back, just as he begins to slip back under. Still holding you and hands still twitching where they rest against your back. 

Let daylight come. You aren’t capable of worrying about it, or stressing about all that has happened. You aren’t capable of thinking about anything right now, because only one thing matters as your temple and ear find his heartbeat once more. 

Your head is on his chest.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[leahrintarou]

Hey this might sound weird but I’ll do my best to explain could you do a suna fix where he works for you dad working on cars together at you family owned garage that is on you property and you two secretly like talk and other stuff ;)

✩₊˚.⋆ DENIAL - suna rintarou

CW: swearing, make out sesh (suggestive maybe), petname "angel" used, y/n is in denial, suna is in love. he's a tease, reader uses she/her, i love this man oml Word Count: 2.3k Author's Note: DOESNT SOUND WEIRD AT ALL, ANON! i hope you enjoy :). ty for reading. make sure to send in a request if you ever have any ideas that you want me to write <3

y/n wiped sweat from her brow, leaving behind a stripe of grease residue. she was currently working at the family owned car shop that he dad has been around ever since she was a child. the second she was able to gold things on her own, she's been by her dad's side helping him every chance she got. she loved it and couldn't imagine a better lifestyle.

however, there was a catch that came in the form of suna rintarou. he stood a few feet away from her, finishing up the final touches on one of the cars that was recently dropped off at the shop for a maintenance check. a lazy smirk was on his lips when y/n's eyes caught his figure.

"its rude to stare, y/n."

y/n was tempted to throw the tool in her hand directly at him but thought twice, opposing from the idea. "i rather stare at a wall. don't flatter yourself." she rolled her eyes. that might've been a lie and might've been the truth. suna was attractive, that she could confidently say about him. however, she would often catch herself admiring him way too often.

how his bottom lip always tucked between his teeth as he was focused, his lazy and low-lidded gaze that would intimidate any customer that showed up, hence the reason why he called y/n over anytime assistance was needed.

"all you have to do is give them a little smile, dude."

"why would i smile at a stranger who expects me to charge them a penny for a week's worth of work?"

suna chuckled at y/n's words. he was dressed in loose fitting jeans that were stained with oil. his hoodie matched that oil stained design and somehow, he was still able to make it appear to look like something out of a fashion magazine.

"right, sure." he shook his head, leaning against the car after shutting it's hood. "you know the more you deny it, the more i know that you like me, right?"

"me liking you? your cockiness makes me sick." she shook her head. "if i had to choose between you and oil spill, id pick the oil."

suna didn't miss a beat. "you say that now, but it sounds like you'd enjoy getting dirty here with me."

her pulse quickened, and she cursed herself for reacting. he always did this-teased her just enough to make her flustered, but not enough to cross a line. he'd been working here for months now, and ever since he'd started, it had been a constant back-and-forth between them.

she liked to pretend he annoyed her, but he had this frustrating ability to crawl under her skin and make her feel things she didn't want to admit. her dad was in the back, probably fixing some engine part, leaving her alone with suna in the main garage. she grabbed a rag and wiped her hands, desperate for a distraction.

"you got something to say, or are you just going to stand there grinning like an idiot all day?" she muttered, turning her attention to the car in front of her. "hey, i'm actually working here," suna said with mock innocence as he bent under the hood of a car. "just trying to keep this place running smoothly. you should thank me, y'know? without me, your dad would be way more stressed."

she rolled her eyes. "you're delusional. dad could run this place fine without you. suna's eyes flicked up to meet hers from under the hood, a mischievous glint in them. "maybe, but it's more fun having me around, isn't it?"

her face heated up again, and she cursed under her breath. how did he always manage to get under her skin like this? "you're lucky you're good with cars," she muttered, pretending to focus on the engine. "otherwise, you'd be out of here."

"i’ll take that as a compliment," he said, standing up and stretching, his hoodie riding up just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. he smirked when he noticed her staring. "like what you see?"

she scowled and threw the rag at him, which he caught effortlessly. "you wish, suna."

"yeah, i do," he shot back, leaning closer. his voice dropped, teasing, but softer. "come on, y/n. you can’t pretend you don’t like me forever."

she swallowed, not trusting herself to speak. she hated how easily he could fluster her, how he always knew exactly what to say to make her heart race. but he was also frustratingly right. as much as she tried to ignore it, there was something about him that drew her in. the teasing, the flirting, the way he always seemed so calm and collected, like nothing ever rattled him—it was annoyingly attractive.

"i can try," she muttered, turning her back to him.

he chuckled again, but it was softer this time, more genuine. "you’re fun to mess with, you know that?"

"glad i could be your entertainment," she deadpanned.

"you make it too easy," he said, leaning against the car again, watching her. his gaze was heavy, and it made her skin tingle. "but seriously, y/n. you’re not fooling anyone. i know you like me."

she huffed in frustration, finally turning to face him. "what makes you so sure?"

suna’s grin widened. "because if you really hated me, you wouldn’t let me get away with half the stuff i say to you. and you wouldn’t get all flustered every time i do this—"

his thumb met with the area just above her eyebrow, wiping away the smudge of grease. her breath hitched, and she cursed herself for reacting. his eyes locked onto hers, and for a second, the playful teasing was gone, replaced by something deeper, something that made her stomach flip.

she slapped his hand away, even though her heart was beating out of her chest. "you’re so full of yourself."

"maybe," he said, his voice low. "but that doesn’t mean i’m wrong."

she hated how right he was. she hated how he made her heart race, how he always seemed to know exactly what buttons to press. but more than anything, she hated that she kind of liked it. before she could respond, her dad’s voice called out from the back of the garage. "y/n! suna! i need a hand back here."

she jumped at the sound, grateful for the interruption. quickly wiping her hands in a rag, she turned toward the back. "coming!"

suna followed her, his presence a little too close for comfort. as they approached the back where her dad was working on a stubborn engine, she tried to shake off the lingering tension. but suna, of course, wasn’t about to let it go.

"hey, y/n," he whispered as they walked, his breath warm against her ear. "you never answered my question."

"what question?" she muttered, refusing to look at him.

he leaned even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "do you like what you see?"

instead of answering, she clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, and settled on throwing her elbow back to meet with his abdomen. he caught it just in time and pulled her back to him.

"that's not nice, angel."

"oh, fuck off."

---

hours later, after her dad had gone home and the sun was setting outside, the garage was quiet. she and suna were the only ones left, finishing up the last of the work for the day. the silence between them was heavier now, the teasing from earlier still hanging in the air.

"you’re quiet," suna commented as he wiped down his tools. "something on your mind?"

"nope," she lied, trying to focus on organizing the wrenches on the wall.

suna smirked, walking over to her. he stood behind her, his presence looming, and she could feel the heat of him even though he wasn’t touching her. "still mad at me for making you flustered earlier?"

"i wasn’t flustered," she scoffed.

he chuckled, and she felt his breath on her neck. "sure you weren’t." she spun around, glaring at him. "what do you want, suna? why do you always have to mess with me?"

his smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, his expression softened. he stepped closer, and suddenly, she felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

"maybe i just like being around you," he said, his voice quieter now. "ever think of that?"

'well you make it hard for me to like being around you' she thought to herself.

y/n stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. this wasn’t the usual teasing suna; this was different. she opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat.

suna reached out, his fingers brushing her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "you're killing me, y/n."

her heart pounded in her chest, and she hated that he was right. she hated that, despite all the teasing and banter, she actually liked him. more than she wanted to admit. "you’re insufferable," she muttered, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

suna’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them. "maybe. but you still like me."

she rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "unfortunately."

suna grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "knew it."

y/n barely had time to react before suna closed the space between them, his lips crashing against hers in a way that was both surprising and inevitable. there was nothing slow or gentle about it—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long. her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. instead, she found herself pushing into the kiss, gripping the front of his hoodie as if she needed to anchor herself to something real.

suna’s hands found her waist, fingers digging into her sides as he pulled her closer, pressing her back against the workbench. she sighed against his lips, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire, every touch of his lips against hers sending sparks down her spine.

he broke the kiss first, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them. his voice, usually full of teasing, was low and rough. “this is what you were in denial of for so long?”

y/n blinked up at him, her mind still spinning from the kiss, trying to find her words. “shut up—” but her voice came out breathless, and she hated how easily he unraveled her.

suna’s lips curved into a slight smirk, though there was something softer in his eyes now, something that made her chest tighten. “you’ve been pushing me away for so long,” he murmured, hands warm against her skin. “but i think you wanted this just as much as i did.”

“you’re wrong,” she tried to snap back, but the way her voice shook betrayed her. she hated that he was right, hated how much she wanted him, how much she had been pretending not to feel anything.

“yeah?” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “then tell me to stop.”

y/n opened her mouth, but no words came out. her mind was screaming at her to push him away, to tell him he was wrong, but her body wasn’t listening. instead, her fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. “i hate you,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

suna chuckled softly, leaning down to brush his lips against hers again. “you don’t hate me.”

this kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. y/n’s breath hitched as his hand slid up her back, pulling her flush against him. she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

when they finally pulled apart, suna’s eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, his smirk replaced by something more serious. “you can’t keep pretending you don’t feel anything,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent.

y/n bit her lip, her heart still racing, her mind a mess of emotions. “and what if i don’t want to feel this?” she asked, her voice shaky.

suna’s gaze softened, and he reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “then stop lying to yourself,” he said quietly. “because i’m not going anywhere.”

her chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in them catching her off guard. she didn’t want to admit how much she cared, how much she had been holding back. but in this moment, with his lips inches from hers and his hand still resting on her cheek, it felt impossible to keep pretending.

without saying another word, she leaned in again, capturing his lips in a kiss that was softer this time, less rushed, but just as intense. she didn’t know what this meant, didn’t know what would happen after tonight. but right now, with suna’s arms around her and his lips against hers, none of that seemed to matter.

suna wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it aside, the sun casting an orange glow through the garage windows. the day had slowed down, leaving only the two of them, the steady hum of the shop’s quiet settling around them. he stretched lazily, catching y/n’s eyes on him for a split second.

“alright, i’m heading out,” he said, his voice smooth as always. his eyes lingered on her, softer than usual. “you need anything before i go?”

y/n shook her head, busying herself by wiping down a tool. “nah, i’m good.”

suna took a step toward the door, hesitating for a moment. the smirk on his face softened into something gentler. he gave her one last look before heading out.

“see you tomorrow, angel,” he called over his shoulder, his tone light, almost teasing.

y/n glanced up, catching his eyes just as he disappeared through the door, the sound of his voice leaving a warmth in the air even after he was gone.

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[blkkizzat]

Mmm prof sukuna is just...yummy. I can't even.

But since we're doing this, Prof Gojo. He teaches theoretical physics. Your major required you to take it. So you do, your senior year of undergrad. But you're an experimental physics kinda person. So you argue with him day and night. So it surprises you when you're a grad student that he seeks you out to bounce ideas off of. He invites you to join a collaboration. He introduces you to people. This man is not your advisor, but he's always creating an opportunity for you. Eventually, your going to dinner meetings with him and several other professors from the department. You're surprised to learn they ALL think you're his girlfriend. And he doesn't deny it. In fact, he just smirks and changes the subject. Now no matter who you deny it to, they all just say that you don't have to pretend and that it's not that weird. Except now, no one asks you out. Because they all think you're taken. You ask Satoru to clear things up and he just says to let it pass. The more you deny it, the worse it'll get. Eventually, eventually, you just give up and hang around him like normal. You're getting good opportunities out of it and he's a really good friend. Even if he is a theoretical physicist. But it all changes after you defend your dissertation. He comes and listens and afterward takes you for ice cream, and he kisses you. he tells you he was waiting until you weren't a student anymore. You're flabbergasted. And a little mad cause you barely get laid for two and a half years cause everyone you met on campus thought you were dating this man and time off campus was rare. But fear not cause you decide to get even. You demand he make up for all 30 months you went without.

Side note: geto is def an English prof right? And Nanami is math?

- 🧠

🧠 nonny! pookies you eating with these! also prof geto is most def english, philosophy or anthro 100% and I can totally see prof nanami as math or he might be a dr on the md track and be your like attending when ur a resident kdhfkshfa.

prof gojo is really cute. i like how he played the long game and waited. i was surprised cause i didnt think he'd have it in him to do it but it make sense he could here if everyone thought you were dating already lefhdsdlkfhudslkfh. lmfao watch he's like fanning the flames himself behind your back.

ahhh wait i can't leave out my husband... even though i do NOT see him as an academic lmfao at all. buuuut WALK WITH ME HERE... professor toji of sports medicine.

prof toji happened to fall into the role more than anything. a former olympian he has over a dozen gold metals, the highest ever for a single person in japan and the first person to ever participate—let alone win in multiple categories. his physical prowess is a wonder to modern science and its purely his obsession with to being at his physical peak that drives him into academia so he could learn more about his body after being disillusioned with 'incompetent' personal trainers and physical therapist, taking his care into his own hands. prof toji now retired was practically begged to come to the university to teach. he teaches one class but mostly heads sports medicine at a university with a medical center where he trains and conditions sports athletes—you happen to be his TA/assistant, a former promising gymnast olympian but sidelined due to a wrist that never healed right. Toji is annoyed by you at first, brash disposition and a widower, he's not very personable at all. but one day you happen to be with him when his nanny has an emergency and drops a young 5 year old megumi off at his offices early. prof toji has to evaluate the swimmers in 20 minutes and it be too dangerous to take him to the pools, so you offer to watch him and toji, while skeptical has no choice but to let you. prof toji is quite shocked upon his return to find you in the aerobics area and megumi actually laughing—you taught him summersaults and he can almost do a cartwheel without falling over. he hasn't seen him laugh like that since his mom passed. prof toji feels indebted to you now and he hates that so he offers to take a look at your wrist even though you say theres 'nothing that can be done' which prof toji scoffs at. It takes a minor surgery and almost a year of physical therapy, strict diet and training regimine at his directive but your wrist actually heals!

fast forward 2 years and you are actually at the olympics! a bit older for the category but due to the immaculate physical therapy and training from prof toji you manage to get gold by mere fractions of points! taking it from the current champion of the last 3 years! prof toji is the first one to catch your eye when your scores are announced and when you flew into his arms out of gratitude he couldn't help the passionate kissed that followed as he literally kissed you for the first time in front of the whole world!

OMFGBFKSDHFKVA WAIT I ACTUALLLY ATE WITH THIS I ATE SO FUCKING HARDLJCSDLKJFHDSKJB I GOTTA WRITE THIS... NO STAWP I ALREADY HAVE TOO MCUHDFHSDJKCBK. WHO WANTS ME TO WRITE THIS?!

[warping-realities]

What She Wants

I know I promised the previous one would be the last one for a while but I had a video that I not use in one of the last stories and ended up creating a shorter one just so as not to waste it. I hope you like it.

Cherisse was pissed off. At her old schoolmates and at herself. The five-year reunion was coming up next weekend, and she was gonna have to show up all alone. She never really gave a damn about this kind of stuff, always focused on her career. But then, why the hell did she lie about having a boyfriend? She knew why—those bitches Brenda and Destiny with their pathetic little housewife lives and their useless husbands loved to say that because she was a bodybuilder, no guy would wanna date her. I mean, what kind of dude would go out with a woman bigger than him? That thought made her wanna scream, but those bitches had a point. Even the male bodybuilders ended up choosing curvier, less muscular women, which really pissed her off. The fact that she was so close to becoming a big star in the bodybuilding scene should’ve been enough to ease her doubts, but it wasn’t. In reality, she was so fed up with everything that she dropped her apartment key on the floor of the hallway in the tiny building she lived in, thanks to her job as a Personal Trainer. At least for now, since she had contracts lined up with several big brands by the time she stepped on Olympia stage in a few months, which was what she should’ve been worrying about. Frustrated and angry, she picked up the key from the floor and stood up, only to see David, her neighbor, walking by. The blond thin and extremely cute guy worked at a nearby coffee shop and was always super polite to her, even though any flirting attempts on him had been shot down.

She knew she couldn’t make him like her or… could she? Remembering the times she got shot down by the guy, combined with the frustration about the upcoming event and the possibility of being ridiculed by her old classmates… all of that lit a fire inside her that made her decide to take action. She’d been warned a bunch of times not to mess with her gift, that it could spiral out of control and come with a high price, but she was tired of being the good girl, tired of being humiliated. It was time to think about herself. She will get what she wanted.

….

After a long day at the coffee shop, all David wanted was to flop down on the couch in his tiny one-bedroom apartment and chill, and maybe, just maybe, look for a hookup on Grindr. After throwing on a tank top and some shorts, he was about to head out of his room when he heard a noise—there was someone else in the apartment. Creeping up to the door, he was freaked out and jumped.

“Cherisse, what the hell! What are you doing here? What you want?

“What I want, David? I want my boyfriend!” The muscular black woman replied, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I want my boyfriend, David. My boyfriend who loves me and would do anything for me!”

“Cherisse… you’re out of your min…” David started to say, cutting himself off as a weird sensation flooded his body, like he was about to choke, making him gasp for air. Then he was shocked to hear his own voice while his mouth moved on its own.

“But that’s what you already have, babe.”

“Not enough! I want my boyfriend, bigger, more muscular, and stronger than me.”

The choking feeling hit him again, this time harder, along with a dizzy spell that made David wobble for a second. After a few seconds, he seemed to recover. With his giant biceps and powerful pecs on display, he looked a few inches shorter, with shaved hair and a square face, wich smiled to Cherisse.

“Stronger and more muscular for sure, and two inches taller!”

“No, I want more! I want my bodybuilder boyfriend, way bigger than me, my boyfriend with beautiful dark hair and a darker skin.”

In an instant, the bodybuilder David underwent a transformation, turning into a caramel-skinned version with brown eyes and well-kept dark hair and beard, maybe of Latin descent.

“Much better! Take off those shorts and pose for me, David!”

He obeyed, stripping down to just his underwear and flexing his powerful muscles for his girlfriend to see.

“Yummy, but I still want more.” She commented licking her lips without noticing the change in her voice and vocabulary. “I want my boyfriend with delicious choclate skin as dark as mine. My professional bodybuilder boyfriend, Mr. Olympia material boyfriend. My boyfriend who fulfills all my needs and will accompany me to my school reunion, and make all the jealous bitches shut up they skunk mouths. Now come, come to me, my love,” she said, as the uncontrolled power took over completely.

As the muscular giant, who minutes ago had been a gay dude just looking for a casual hookup, walked from the bedroom door towards her, with each step he took, he grew larger while his skin darkened to a chocolate tone. His pecs looked like two slabs of meat, his abs lost some definition, but his arms swelled to the size of tree trunks. As sweat dripped down his body, his black wavy hair transformed into small curls in a stylish cut with shaved sides, while his underwear turned into gym shorts, and the tiny apartment room morphed into a spacious mansion living room.

While all this was happening and the power dominated Cherisse’s mind, she didn’t notice that her short hair, which had fallen out due to steroid use started to grow back in beautifull well manteined curls while her voice gained an airy melodious tone. As the former David grew bigger, she shrank, her powerful muscles becoming smaller but defined, while her glutes became curvier and her breasts softer. Then, as the monstrous off-season bodybuilder stood smiling in front of her, her clothes evaporated, leaving her in a tiny bikini that showcased all her perfect curves. Finnaly the whirlwind of power seemed to reach its peak before fading away forever while the reality reset.

The smile on the behemoth's face quickly vanished when he noticed his girlfriend posing in the middle of their living room.

“Can I ask what the hell you’re doing, Cherisse?”

“Babe… I… I thought you’d be back later.”

“I decided to surprise my girlfriend, and guess who’s getting surprised? Don’t tell me you’re back to that ridiculous idea of competing in Bikini Fitness. I’ve already been clear with you about that. You don’t need to work, especially not by exposing your body; I’m the one who takes care of all my wife’s needs.”

“Wife? What do you mean?”

“Well, that was the surprise I was gonna pull on you, but it looks like…”

“Stop being silly, I was rehearsing, yeah, but it was just for you, my love.”

“Now you’re talking like my future wife,” he replied, with his smile returning.

….

That weekend, Cherisse was bursting with joy. As her boyfriend parked the car, she rushed over to meet her old school friends, Brenda and Destiny, in the garden of the beautiful restaurant they class picked for the high school reunion. After some kisses, hugs, and excited squeals, Brenda looked at her curiously.

“Is that on your finger what I think it is?”

“Yup!!! He proposed to me!!”

“So, we’re finally gonna meet your boyfriend… sorry, your fiancé?”

“Yeah, look over there,” Cherisse said, making her friends look at the handsome specimen of a man strutting confidently towards them—300 pounds of pure muscle covered in a beutifull chocolate skin, wearing a light gray suit with a vest and a shirt whose last buttons could never stay closed, showing off a gorgeous chest. All of this was topped off by a rugged face that could make knees weak.

“Girls, this is Deshaun, my fiancé,” she said, knowing the others would be dying of envy.

Later, as her friends walked in, Deshaun pulled her close.

“Are you happy, my love? I know how important this reunion was for you.”

“Happy? I’m totally fucking ecstatic, babe. I showed those bitches who’s the best. I’ve got the best house, the best body, and the best man. What more could I want?”

[spacedlexi]

So I was rewatching berleezy's twd s4 and someone in the comments said it was interesting that Clementine (determinately) can believe there's no life inside of walkers when her parents were found together and they were assumably walkers for those 6 months she and lee were together. Meaning they could've wandered off and separated but they were found together after all that time. (It's more than likely for plot but it's still an interesting point) Thoughts on that? Also any headcanons on her parents? (Or art 🥺👉🏾👈🏾) have you watched berleezy's playthrough???

well walker tenn still does the hand thing. and you could apply that idea to clems parents still standing together after all that time. maybe some deep part of them compels them to move that way, to stay close to those people. what made them Them is still in there somewhere even if theyre gone. its something S4 Wants you to think about. is there really Nothing left of who they were once theyve turned? i think there is. on some level. the person may be gone, but some part of them still remains

i like that since they do the "humans are the real monsters" thing that every zombie thing does (which ultimately i feel is what zombie media is About (plus our capacity for love and community. great love and great evil)) they leaned into that idea of well if the zombies arent the real monsters then what are they? theyre just their own thing. any creature just trying to survive, even if theyre dangerous. once they were a person who lived a life and had people who loved them. and now theyre This. i joke when i call james the neighborhood cat lady but like... yeah. S4 is very explicitly about what makes someone a "monster". willing to do evil things (or willing to stop doing them) and at what point there is no return, and when you have to let go of them. but does that not also apply to the walkers? there is no return for them either, and you still have to let go (or die with them), no matter how much of who they were is still in there somewhere

S4 is very philosophical about its themes and wants You to come to a conclusion on the ideas its presenting to you. it Is a choice game after all. i do believe walkers are walkers. but that doesnt mean there isnt still a part of who they were in there somewhere. both can be true

and yes i watched berleezy cuz he was the only one i could find who actually liked vi and her romance 😭 (and who didnt not save her/get her killed). so many people were so apathetic or weird with her while still choosing to romance her i couldnt take it anymore WHERE IS THE ENERGY?? his reaction to vi shooting minnie is the reaction you Should be having in that scene. thats how i get every time i see it 😩

[hahaifolded]

HAPPY HISPANIC HERITAGE MONTH! In honor of HHM and Día de la Independencia en Mexico (September 16th), here is a little thing I wrote in celebration. I tried finishing this in time for yesterday but alas, life happens. Hope y'all enjoy my weird thoughts!

141 x Mexican!Fem Reader - Al Pastor and Allies Summary: Soap really loves Mexico, especially its women. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, Some Spanish dialogue, SPANISH CURSING, and slight sexism Word Count: 1666

“Why is Alejandro making us pick up lunch? asks Ghost, which sounded more like a whine than a question. 

“He has some things he needs to handle and thought it would give us a chance to see more of Las Alamas,” informs Price who’s directing the boys to the place that Alejandro recommended. 

“Don’t be like that. Live a little. If you’re lucky, we might meet see cute on the way,” jokes Soap. He hits the moody lieutenant on his shoulder to further sell his point. Ghost glares at the Scotsman while Gaz laughs at his fellow sergeant’s antics. 

“Cute or not. I’m just happy we’re off base,” adds Gaz. Ghost just sighs heavily. He didn’t see why Alejandro couldn’t pick up lunch. He actually knows Spanish. Now they’re stuck with Soap’s way-too-confident Spanish. However he couldn’t complain too much as the smell of savory meats fill the air.

After turning the corner, the UK squad arrive to the renowned taqueria that Alejandro obsessed about, an open concrete structure that had a small counter, large grill, and tronco de al pastor towards the back. And it’s clear that Alejandro isn’t the only one who loves this place as the place is packed. All of the mismatched plastic chairs and tables are filled and the line to order is out the open entrance. 

“I guess we wait,” says Price as he goes to the end of the line. Gaz and Soap follow. Ghost grumbles but joins them. The four immediately jump into a lively conversation. Or more like Soap talks and the rest listen. As they moved up in the growing line, Soap went on and on about how beautiful Mexico is. 

“And the women,” he groans in approval, “Guys, if we’re lucky we might leave with some very fond memories of the place.” Gaz and Ghost groan while Price shakes his head. Price looks around the place, hoping that no one heard the crude remarks of his sergeant. Soap notices Price’s wandering eyes, but mistakes it for something else. 

“What is it cap’n? Something catch your eye,” he asks, curiosity dripping in his voice. He looks around too and stops when he notices the lone woman standing behind them. She’s too engrossed in her phone to notice the SAS team. Soap signals her out with a quick flick of his thumb. “This one catch your eye? She's a nice looking one. If you don't jump on that, I will."

Smack.

“That’ll do,” Ghost grunts out, smacking the back of Soap’s head. 

“Siguiente!” yells the woman running the counter. So engrossed in their conversation, the 141 did not realize it was their turn to order. Price ushers Soap forward. The Scotsman pulls out his phone and reads Alejandro’s order to the woman. The older woman reads back their order which Soap confirms. However, before she informs them of their total, a voice from behind speaks up.

“Cobra al güero doble!” The four men turn around to see the woman that Soap had pointed out talking. The woman at the counter asks why you wanted to charge them double.

“Porque este ojete anda hablando de las mujeres mexicanas como si fuéramos animales!” She’s clearly pissed. And she’s not the only one as many people start to boo at the UK boys. 

“What’s happening?” loudly whispers Gaz. Price and Ghost just shrug. 

“I think she’s mad,” informs Soap. He moves away from the counter. He walks towards the woman with his arms out. “Nena, por qué no nos calmamos y hablamos?” But instead of calming the woman down, Soap further infuriates. 

“Nena! Quién putas de crees?” She moved towards Soap but before she can put her hands on him, a booming voice stops her. 

— — — 

Before you can put your hands on the man with the Mohawk, you hear Alejandro’s voice. 

“What’s going on?” He rushes in and stands in between you and the Europeans. The place quiets down at his presence.

“Este hijo de su puta madre,” you began but Alejandro ignores you. 

“It’s been an hour. What happened? Qué fueron a matar el chivo?,” he asks the four men in front of you. You couldn’t believe it. He was checking on them, not you. 

“The line was long and Soap here made himself a friend,” the man in the mask informs. Alejandro looks to his side and finally notices you. 

“Eey, qué haces aquí?” He tries to pull you in for a hug but you push him off. 

“No mames Alejandro. No ves que voy a madrear a este güey y aquí andas saludándolo como si fuera un amigo,” you say. Alejandro looks at you then to the men. He smiles.

“Oh que bueno ya conociste nuestros aliados para este misión.” He pulls you to his side and faces the men. He introduces them as Taskforce 141 and you to them as lieutenant to the all-women squad here in Las Alamas. You’re aware of the 141 but you expected a much more respectable team. 

The 141 stare at you. This was such a horrible first impression on their part. Especially for Soap. “Alejandro, can you tell her that I didn’t—“

“You can tell me yourself!” you spit out. 

“Sorry, I just thought—“

“Yeah, you saw a brown face and fucking assumed, didn’t you? But guess what, some people bother to learn a second language unlike you, gringo?” Soap starts gasping for air, trying to talk his way out of this. Ghost and Price are embarrassed while Gaz just laughs at the whole situation. 

“Oiga, cálmate,” Alejandro adds. You just snap at him, informing the colonel of Soap’s crude remarks about the local women and you. Alejandro is fully aware that Soap was messed up, but tries defend him for the sake of the mission. 

“Look, kick his ass later but now they’re our allies so let’s just forget about it,” he begs. You scoff. You weren’t going to let this go. How could you work with someone who clearly doesn’t respect you or your team? But before you can rebuttal, the 141 captain butts in. 

He grabs Soap by his arm and pushes him towards you. “Apologize,” he commands. Soap spits out an apology, saying how he just wanted to express his deep admiration for this country and its people and meant no harm by his comments. Price pushes him back and adds, “Do forgive him. He’s just a dumbass at the end of the day.” Soap sheepishly smiles.

Price puts his hand out and continues, "Let's start over. I'm John Price, captain of the 141. And these are my men." He re-introduces the other three, Gaz, Ghost, and your favorite, Soap. "As captain, I am appalled by my soldier's actions and will punish him accordingly. But for now, let me pay for your meal. It's the least I can do for your troubles."

You take his hand. "Thank you, Captain. Real kind of you." He moves to the side and lets you walk towards the counter. You grin at Alejandro and begin to order.

All of their jaws drop to the floor as you begin to order. Despite the team having basic Spanish, they all understood that you had ordered 50 tacos de al pastor.

"Y una agua de jamaica por favor," you say, finishing of your order. As the woman sums up the total, you pull Price from his arm. "Cobrale a el, mi sugar daddy va pagar." You rest your head against his arm. The woman informs Price the total. He slowly pulls out his wallet, in disbelief. Lucky for him, he had enough pesos to cover your order.

The woman hands you your ticket. "Gracias," you say in a sing-song voice. You leave the men with a smirk on your face.

Alejandro laughs at them. "She was picking up lunch for her girls." he informs.

-- -- --

Alejandro and the 141 take a seat as they wait for their order. While they catch up, Ghost stares at you. You were talking to the man in charge of cutting the meat. The Lieutenant was impressed. It wasn't everyday that someone was able to get the upper hand over Price.

"Hey, eyes over here," Alejandro warns Ghost. He didn't like the eyes that Ghost was giving you. Ghost rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the table. Which ended up being futile as you join them, standing behind Price and Alejandro. You immediately engage in conversation with your colonel.

You're so lost in your conversation that you mindlessly start to play with the back of Price's head. So touch-starved, Price leans into your touch.

"Our cap'n is going to fall asleep if you keep doing that," Gaz jokes. You stop and look down to see Price's eyes closed.

You let out a soft laugh. "Let him. Poor man must be tired." You smile and take a sip out of your straw. Gaz couldn't help but stare at your smile. It was contagious.

"What're you drinking?" asks Gaz without thinking. He wasn't sure if he was on your good side.

You hand him your drink. "Try it." He hesitates but takes your wide smile as encouragement. He takes a sip and groans in enjoyment.

"Wow, this is good," he says. He couldn't help but admire your kindness. You just met him and were open to sharing your drink.

"Can I try?" asks Soap as he reaches for the cup.

"No." You grab your drink of Gaz. Gaz, Price, and Alejandro laugh while Soap just deflates. Ghost huffs out, not amused that you rejected one of his sergeants.

You glare at the Lieutenant. "Have something to say? Dilo, o qué, te falta huevos." Ghost's eyes widened, shocked that you called him out. Before he could say anything, your number is called.

"Pues, that's me. Thank you again for lunch. Real excited to work with you guys." You throw them a wink and leave to grab your food.

The 141 all stare at you. This mission might be more fun than they expected.

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

Author's Notes: I really hope my Spanish is correct here. I can speak it confidently, but when it comes to spelling, in any language really, I fumble. Also let me know if y'all want a completely English version. I did not provide translations cause I think you can still understand without it but I can if needed.

This was just some random thought that came to me so I said fuck it, why not share it! Very self-indulgent for me. Would love to yell at these guys just for fun!

Is Soap OC here? I don't know. But all I know is that he's a man and men tend to be stupid so that's my reasoning.

[mohavegecko]

never understood why jack had a portrait of moxxi up in his casino. the place went under after BL2, and at that point they hadnt been together for years. and its not like what they had together was particularly happy or long lasting, either. they were together for maybe a month before breaking up pre-TPS, and thats not even mentioning what happens between them during the game itself, so... maybe its a trophy? it doesnt feel like one when theres also one of angel. but its all i really got because presumably hes been in a much happier relationship with nisha for years, even though the portrait does feel too sentimental for a woman hes hated for the past Forever. speaking of nisha, there's no portrait of her or his wives. which is doubly weird because surely theyd be here too if moxxi is. idk, moxxi and angel are just a strange pair to have it just be them. by themselves is fine, moxxi alone is easily a trophy. and imo its just weird for a portrait of angel to be in the casino in the first place. some secret siren, huh? but together? idk. it gives mixed messages.

[kathrynmjaneway]

.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

moon n ballora

[todayisafridaynight]

[druidshollow]

ugly baby rivers is gonna be in my brain forever

its not his fault..... newborns are just ugly

(i did some rambling in the tags if u wanna look at it lol)

[u5an5]

Theory: The Clone X was not Cody like some people think or even Fives (I know he's been dead for a very long time but so was Boba Fett and look where we are. Plus, Echo was supposed to be certainly dead too; making him Winter Soldier-esque storyline wouldn't be that surprising) or not even Slick.

((Also, now that we've seen his face devoid of any tattoos or scars I think first two takes are definitely not applicable anymore; they wouldn't put that much effort to make him unrecognizable))

Back to the point: In my opinion, The Clone X was none other than...

Fox.

Now let me explain.

Who else, other than X, was loyal to the law and justice dictated by it over any moral or ethic code?

Fox.

Who else was portrayed with such single-minded focus on hunting down traitors of the government he served, regardless of what it was?

Fox.

Who else could know not only Coruscant so well but also identify Rex like they knew each other?

He already was a remarkably successful tracker of traitors, why not make him more efficient by pointing them out for him?

Good soldiers follow orders, after all.

[intotheelliwoods]

I have one more thing I want to work on before I get back into updating 2AL regularly, but until then......

[slavhew]

Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

[hanzajesthanza]

dandelion is indeed the worst but if he’s not present in the next book i would legitimately be sorrowful as the whole thing will become a slog . you basically cannot have the “short stories” era-of-the-timeline iteration of geralt without dandelion, it would be like eating unbuttered bread.

though it’s not like season of storms did them dirty, i wasn’t disappointed with it (… with regards to them), but since it’s literally been over 20 years since the saga was finished i’m trying to prepare for any potential reality

[moeblob]

Erin, to her crush: You're a dick

Mason, the crush: I won't argue! But to clarify -