#and like ? this is an honor. it’s an honor. Complaining to anyone that it sucks sometimes when she’s the only woman officially invested as

[halfyearsqueen]

as a whole she does ? she carries a lot of opinions within that she deems ‘ unfavorable ‘ / ‘ impolite ‘ at court, that might effect the level of support she can expect by her Allies, who’s opinions she holds in higher regard then most—she’s more reticent to open up about topics that could be twisted and weaponized to ? be used against her and used to deem her unfit as a ruler.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Some thoughts about the KP video and Kate’s statement today. (I initially put these as comments to another post.) These thoughts may be controversial and may be unpopular, but it is what I think and there may be others who feel this way too or who have similar thoughts and are looking for a place to discuss.

So first, this video is not unprecedented. It follows similar videos made for their 10th anniversary and the coronation (I believe there may be an Earthshot video as well), which suggests that KP’s media strategy commemorates significant personal occasions with film like this. What is unprecedented is Kate narrating - I believe this is the first “televised speech” she has ever given. She has given speeches before but I don’t think those were “broadcast” like this one was.

There’s been some commentary about how PR-ish and slick the video feels, to which I also agree. In my comments on an earlier post, I said that the video is responding to criticism and concerns that KP staff likely heard all summer, meant to reassure people of Kate’s status. It sucks that they had to do this because Kate made it clear from the beginning that her health is private. I think they chose a highly-stylized and edited video like this (instead of personal home videos) to help with their privacy. By having someone else film them, they can still protect their kids’ personal selves while opening the window into what “our own home” actually looks and feels like.

In my opinion - and I realize this could be fighting words - it feels like the emotions people may or be feeling about this video comes from how unexpected it was. I’ll give them that point - it was unexpected and very touching to hear Kate’s own words in her own voice narrating clips of her family in their ordinary private lives that she and William have been very protective over.

But it was not unexpected that there was an update on her status. It’s consistent with KP’s pattern of providing quarterly (or seasonal, depending on how you look at it) updates on Kate’s status. After the first announcement in January, we received updates in March (beginning of Spring) and in June (beginning of summer). Now we’ve had an update at the beginning of fall/autumn.

We’ll probably get another one in December for the beginning of winter, which will probably coincide with her Christmas carol service. Given Kate’s message today, I have a feeling that this year’s carol service may be themed around cancer charities, supporters, and patients and their families. (2021 and 2022 were also themed; I don’t remember if the 2023 service was themed.) And if the winter update isn’t for the Christmas carol service, it will definitely be for the holidays with perhaps a “new beginnings for a new year” kind of message.

I liked the video. I like that KP has updated their social media profiles and account pictures with new photos from the video. I don’t find it as emotional as others are, but that’s not a knock on anyone who is emotional about it. I do see it as a PR tool to counter criticisms and concerns that have been discussed all summer long, but I also see it as a genuine “thank you” from Kate for giving her the space, time, and privacy to focus on herself and her family. It was an extraordinary request that most people honored and so she thanked everyone in the most extraordinary of ways; a peek at what her family is like on their own time and in their own homes.

(Also, I’m warning all y’all now: there’s a very good chance the Christmas photo will come from one of these video filming sessions. I don’t want to hear anyone complaining about how upset they are we didn’t get any new exclusive content. We just got a 4 minute video!)

[shawnxstyles]

heyy ik you might be busy but can we get a harry fluff smut fic this weekend pls 😣

five course meal

warnings: smut; f-receiving (oral)

note: this was a few weeks ago, but why not try to sedate you for a little? here’s morning smut with a hungry harry :)

—

“baby,” harry breathes, lips ghosting over your neck as his breath fans over your skin. “so pretty.”

harry felt the need to praise you as often as possible: in the morning, before work, on the phone, after work, in the car, on date nights especially. he wanted to honor you because you were so special to him, special to the world. even when you didn’t feel your best, harry still wanted you to know how much he cared for you in those tough times. harry admired you more than anyone in the world.

“harry, please. i need you.”

“yeah? my sweet girl needs me?” his wandering hands crept up your large t-shirt and fondled the skin underneath. the rigid texture of his fingers rubbed the underside of your breasts, causing you to wiggle underneath him. “where do you need me, love?

“everywhere, h. please, no teasing.” you tended to plead for harry not to tease often. even though your body adored it and got off on it. you liked pushing your limits because the finale was always beyond blissful.

“no teasing? well that’s no fun,” he ran his fingers over your pebbles nipples before placing delicate kisses on your smooth torso. “are you going to deprive me of watching you fall apart? hm?”

“n-no,” your response came out as a stutter when his raspberry lips attached to your breast, swirling his tongue over the peaked bud. while distracting you, his hand sneaks its way to your panties. it was natural for your legs to widen when his hand approached you, obeying his silent command.

as his mouth pops off of you, the pads of his fingers massage you over your panties, causing you to mewl from his warm touch. you began to crave that sensation to be filled, the feeling tingling in your lower belly.

it’s not long because your panties are absolutely soaked, desperate arousal seeping through. that’s just what harry was waiting for; for you to be whiny and achy until you were gushing needily for him. that’s when he finally decided to drag your underwear down your unsteady legs.

harry’s large hands spread you open, smoothing over your thighs and practically prepping for his meal. his curious thumbs widen your cunt as you gasp, your wetness dripping onto the bed.

“so wet f’me, baby. love seeing you like this.”

you looked like an absolute wreck when his magical hands caressed you, held you, overpowered you—something inside of you was constantly bubbling and foaming, and when he touched you, it exploded into lustful, loving flames.

“gonna have a taste now, alright? i haven’t eaten yet.”

“‘cause you didn’t even let me get out of bed—” his mouth began slurping all of your dripping juices before you had a chance to finish complaining. your whines were converted into paused gasps and moans, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. “i-i could’ve made you breakfast.”

he lifts his mouth off of you, your wetness around it, “shh, i’m eating now.”

and with that, he resumes his meal like it was his last, sucking on your clit momentarily before thrusting his skillful tongue inside of you. the constant switching has your orgasm approaching you fast. there’s also a slight burn from the small gruff he has built up around his lips, but it only riles you up more. as his short hair scratches your skin, moans spew from you without limitation.

“harry, i’m really close,” you warn, feeling the tightness pressing in your lower belly. your hands crawl up to his brown locks, twirling his hand intensely. it only urges him to press and lick harder into you, his own hands pushing you wider.

your hips convoluted towards his mouth, so much, that his forearms had to press them down vehemently.

overpowered.

fingers plucking your own breast, your orgasm fires up inside of you. that volcano in your belly explodes all over harry, and he doesn’t even flinch. he continues to lick, suck, drink, and devour you like a final goodbye. even when your cunt was sore and aching from overstimulation, he never removed himself from you. he was just too immersed in the taste of you, forever his favorite flavor.

“too much, h. too much,” you whined, but made no move to push him away. you could feel the smirk rising on his mouth against you when you gasped a breath as he inserted his tongue again.

finally, when he pops off of you, your clit is throbbing and your heated again. reading your body language, harry begins to blow cold air over your cunt, his line of fire directly on your clit. your hips jerk, extremely sensitive from the first orgasm.

“love when you’re all sensitive. you’re s’responsive.”

“you’re such a tease,” you roll your eyes before going to shut your legs. but harry stops you, placing his hands on your thighs.

“i never said we were done. i’m still eating, darling,” he kisses the trembling insides of your thighs that are irritated from his slight scruff. “you know i love m’five courses.”

you were in for a long morning.

—

:)

[emmg]

Larian really did it, eh? They took one look at all the rich possibilities for complex, deeply layered antagonists and thought, "Nah, screw that. Let’s just make a devil who could probably cum just by looking at his own reflection." And somehow—somehow—it worked. Like, I know I’m showing up late to the party here, but holy hells, they cooked up Raphael, a mysterious, narcissistic, probably-can-suck-his-own-dick-until-he’s-cross-eyed kind of character, who has about as much emotional depth as a puddle of jizz. And the fandom? The fandom was like, “Oh yes, Daddy, I would like a side of that. And make it extra toxic.”

Let’s be real here, the man struts around like he’s the second coming of every goddamn god in the Realms, practically making love to his own shadow as it follows him around. And we're all like, “Yeah, that’s it. That’s my guy.” He’s the type who wakes up, glances at himself in the mirror, and you know the first words out of his mouth are, “How do you do it, you stunning, devastatingly perfect beast?”

And when he’s done looking at himself, he watches his own cum drip down the mirror like it’s some kind of divine art installation. He’s just standing there, all smug, probably biting his lip, admiring the drip as if it’s the Sistine Chapel and muttering, “Exquisite. Truly a masterpiece, Raphael. You outdo yourself again.”

And yet. And yet. Despite the fact that he lasts about as long in bed as it takes me to throw out any remaining shred of dignity I possess—spoiler alert, it’s not long at all—the fandom is still like, “Oh yes, give me that.” I mean, let’s call it what it is: Raphael is over here jerking off in front of a mirror, flexing his wings, probably biting his lip and winking at his reflection while moaning something like, “I’m the real devil here,” and somehow people are out there thirsting after him like he’s offering a five-course meal instead of trauma with a side of existential dread.

You know this guy practices his sexy monologues in the mirror every morning, right? There’s no way he doesn’t. He’s probably standing there, buck-ass naked, wings unfurled, saying something ridiculous like, “Oh, Tav, you poor fool. You never stood a chance,” while blowing a kiss to his own reflection. And you know the moment Tav walks in, he’s like, “Oh, didn’t see you there,” as if he wasn’t just mid-flex, trying to decide if his pecs or his horns were his best feature today.

Honestly, Raphael probably thinks missionary is an act of charity. He’s not trying to make anyone else feel good—he’s just giving you the honor of basking in his sheer, unfiltered glory. Meanwhile, you’re over here just happy to be involved while he’s thinking about how good his ass must look reflected in the chandelier above. He’s like, “Oh yes, you love this. Everyone loves this. I love this,” as if the entire experience is just him doing you a favor by letting you witness the seventh wonder of the world: him.

AO3 is out here churning out fanfiction like, “Raphael’s sweat dripped down his perfectly sculpted abs, glistening in the flickering candlelight of Avernus as Tav moaned, ‘Oh, Raphael, you’re just so… perfect.’ He smirked, flicking his tongue as if seduction were some high art only he had mastered,” and somehow we’re all reading this like, “Yes. Yes, please.” It’s ridiculous, but are we complaining? Absolutely not. But also what abs? The motherfucker is sipping wine all day and delegating every possible task to everyone but himself. He should have a beer gut.

AO3 has officially become the home for the weirdest, most insane, borderline illegal fantasies you didn’t know you had until Raphael walked in with that velvet voice and that “I’m better than everyone” attitude. And suddenly, you’re reading about how he’s chained Tav to a bed made of solid gold in a mansion on the second layer of Hell, calling her ‘mouse’ like it’s a goddamn pet name while he drafts another contract with one hand and—you know—‘negotiates’ with the other. Tav’s out here thinking, “I could stop this if I wanted,” but really, could she? Could anyone?

Oh, and let’s not forget the taglines on these fics: “Extreme narcissism,” “dubious consent,” “he’s an actual devil, what did you expect?”, “wingplay,” “weird infernal kinks you didn’t know existed,” and my personal favorite, “Raphael’s dick is bigger than his ego (which is saying something).” And somehow, people are eating it up like it’s the best goddamn wine from Avernus, despite the fact that Raphael is probably the kind of guy who’d finish in record time, look over at you, and say something like, “Well, aren’t you lucky to have had me?” before leaving to stare at himself in the mirror again.

At the end of the day, Raphael is the equivalent of someone giving you their business card after mediocre sex and telling you they’re free for a follow-up next Thursday. He’s probably sitting back after three minutes of glorified foreplay, sipping on some infernal wine, dribbling down his chest, cock half-hard and still leaking, saying, “That was a gift, darling. You’re welcome.” Meanwhile, you’re left there thinking, “Is it rude to ask for a refund?” You know he’s terrible for you, but like, what’s the alternative? Not letting him wreck your life? Ridiculous. Absolutely not.

This is the kind of fandom insanity we’ve built, folks. Raphael’s out here jerking off to his own reflection and smirking like he’s some kind of gift to the multiverse, while the rest of us are like, “Yes, Daddy, please tell me more about how you’ve single-handedly ruined my life and maybe take your shirt off while you’re at it.”

And what’s truly wild is that somehow, somehow, we’ve collectively managed to elevate this walking, talking narcissistic wet dream—this smarmy, self-obsessed devil with more self-love than a Greek god on steroids—into the sex icon of the year. Like, how? Raphael’s out here selling delusions of grandeur with a side of, “Oh, by the way, I will absolutely fuck you over, and you’ll thank me for it,” and the fandom’s response? We all just dropped our panties like it’s some kind of compulsory event. Logic? Gone. Self-respect? Out the window. It’s like we’re all standing in line with a collective, “Sir, yes, sir! Please ruin my life.”

[lazywitchling]

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

(Yes I did just order a pot pie from the chicken fast food place. I’m watching 12 hours of movies, I ain’t cooking a whole pot pie!)

Okay. Look.

When I was younger, my cousin bitched about elves at Helm’s Deep not being in the book, but I didn’t think it mattered because it’s cool and I liked elves and it made me the fun kind of sad when Haldir died.

But now I get why. (I mean, ultimately it’s a fictional story so it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life, blah blah, you get the drill. I will complain about this, but I don’t care if you like it, ya dig?)

So here’s the thing. Theoden’s whole storyline throughout this movie and into the next is that he does not believe anyone will help him. Gondor could have come to save his people, but they didn’t. Rohan was left on its own, and people died, and that sucks. So Theoden has succumbed to the depressive thoughts of “We’re all gonna die anyway, why bother fighting?” (Hey that’s a major— actually THE major point of this whole story!!) He has hidden his people away to hide because he knows fighting is futile because they will be alone.

It’s a big deal when he agrees to go out and fight alongside Aragorn as the Uruks are about to overwhelm the keep. I said last year, Tolkien’s brand of hope is the difference between “I only have one hit point left :(“ and “I still have one hit point left >:)” Theoden STILL has no reason to believe help is coming, but he chooses to act like it is anyway, because the alternative is just curling up and dying right there. And he is rewarded, because Gandalf shows up with reinforcements!! Eomer, who has every reason to hate Theoden, brought all the riders to help! Everyone is saved! Hooray!!

But the damn elves show up in the middle of Theoden’s “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. And then elf help arrives. And he goes “Yay, help is here!!” And then nobody really mentions the elves again except for Haldir’s brief dying scene, and Theoden is right back in his “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. It just slaughters the pacing of the story, and Theoden’s arc along with it.

Furthermore, the elves say they were sent by Elrond, who has chosen to have the elves fight alongside mortals once again to honor old alliances! Except that Elrond isn’t really participating in this portion of his own character arc, and in fact doesn’t reach that “idk maybe mortals aren’t so bad after all” point until RotK. So it’s somehow fully out of character for him at this point even though he’s not even there.

ADDITIONALLY, it fucks up ARWEN’S story, because the whole thing with her is that she has to choose between sailing to the undying lands and being with her people forever but losing Aragorn, or staying with Aragorn who will eventually die and then she has no one left and no way to get to the undying lands and will never see her family again and will just live until the heat death of the universe. See, I’m pretty sure (don’t quote me on this) that there’s like… a respawn thing that happens with Tolkiens elves. They’re not only ageless, they’re unkillable. They CANT die. That’s why Arwen’s choice is so difficult. She couldn’t even live out life with him and then jump off a bridge after he dies so she doesn’t have to see the heat death of the universe. She’s literally stuck.

But friggin Haldir takes a sword to the head and has a sad death moment, and then I’m left wondering why everyone is pestering Arwen so much. If elves can die, then she has no problem.

I’m pretty sure it messes up other storylines too, but my pot pie is getting cold.

[jo-harrington]

Chuck (Eddie Munson)

Summary: It's just a regular closing shift at Benny's. Easy peasy. Nothing bad could possibly happen.

Word Count: 3.5k

Characters: Eddie, Jeff, Benny Hammond

Themes/Warnings: Boys will be boys, friendship, smutty intrusive thoughts, Masturbation(?), Food Fucking, Eddie has an unspecified romantic partner (could be Steve, could be Reader, could be anyone that's not what this story is about), Song Fic, What's a Little Psychological Torture Between Friends…

Note: You know what? In true unhinged fashion, I had to write this for @courtingchaos on her birthday and not only that but give her some credit here. This was born from us being stuck in a car on Lake Shore Drive, hangry and a little slap happy, on the way to Navy Pier after I witnessed something that was probably very similar (in the most innocuous way) at a suburban Burger King.

Meg, you are my life. My world. You are my Cheese. Burger. And this one's for you. Happy Birthday.

Thank you AGAIN to @dr-aculaaa for the beta and @deathbecomesthem for some of the diner lingo. Disclaimer that I never worked at a diner so this is probably horribly inaccurate...but just suspend your sense of disbelief if you have.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If anyone wants to get the full effect of this fic, you need to put Mr. Roboto on repeat for the duration of your time reading.

---

5:55PM

Jeff stared at the clock as he wiped down the counter.

Every tick of the second hand had him gritting his teeth a little more, enough where he should probably worry that he was gonna crack a tooth. All because Eddie was late for his closing shift.

Their closing shift.

And not just late, late again. For the third time in as many days they worked together.

If he even showed up.

Now Jeff wasn't one to complain. Shit, Eddie was the one to suggest that he apply at Benny's in the first place and put a good word in for his best friend.

Ben was getting a little older and wanted to enjoy what was left of his youth while he still had it, instead of solely being stuck behind his grill for the rest of his life. An extra waitress on the weekends, an extra line cook during the week, and the business ran smoothly, even when he decided to take a day off.

And Eddie was pretty much employee of the month, knowing all of the regulars orders like the back of his hand.

Until Jeff started getting scheduled alongside him.

Until Eddie started going on dates, and started "going steady" with someone.

Until Eddie started playing hooky to go and suck face and god knows what else while parked up at the quarry.

Jeff let his fist slam against the counter as another minute ticked away, only for the bell of the door to chime and Eddie walk in, shrugging his apron on and shedding his leather jacket in a flustered rush.

"Sorry I'm late," he said with an easy smile on kiss-swollen lips. Jeff rolled his eyes at the sight and at the apology. "Oh come on, I promise I'll be on time tomorrow. Scout's honor." Eddie crossed his finger over his heart.

"You weren't a scout," Jeff retorted.

"Hey now," Eddie teased, starting in on one of his typical Munson-isms that usually ended up in forgiveness or forgetfulness. "I actually was. For one day before some snot-nosed kid pushed me over and I accidentally said fuck. Then they asked me to leave. But once a scout, always a scout."

Jeff hummed and turned on his heel to push back into the kitchen and start prepping for the dinner rush.

The thing was...they worked really well together. They had a good routine of noting what tasks needed to be done throughout the night. It's not like the diner was ever that busy on weeknights and Benny had been doing it alone for years, but it was nice to have someone you got along with at work.

Well it was nice...when they were there. It was nice when your work buddy was actually reliable and helped you out, which made Jeff feel bad because Eddie was his friend, his best friend. But Jeff could let Eddie's luck and charisma let him slide through his responsibilities.

So Eddie was about to find out what kind of hell it was when you were in the weeds alone.

---

Jeff had gone out to take an order when the phone rang.

Eddie grabbed the receiver with a quick "yello'" only to get a familiar voice rasping on the other end.

"Can I speak to Jeffrey please?" came the reply from someone dramatically sounding like Edith Bunker.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Gareth, I know it's you," he sighed.

"No, this is Jeff's grandma," the younger boy kept up the ruse, snickering a little at the end. "I need to talk to him."

Eddie let his head roll back on his shoulders as he heard the stifled giggling of his friend over the line, and then he peeked his head out of the passthrough.

"Jeff!" he called out. "Your grandma's calling."

Jeff donned an exaggerated and fake look of concern; he jogged across the diner and grabbed the receiver from Eddie's hand.

"Hello?" he answered and Eddie watched as his expressions got more animated, as did his voice. "Grandma? Oh no, what happened...an accident? You need help? You need me to leave work and come home right away?"

"What?!" Eddie shrieked and reached out to snatch the receiver back from Jeff's hand. He placed it against his ear but only heard Gareth laughing and then the ring tone. He was about to ask Jeff what the hell was going on, only to find him pulling his apron over his head. "Come on now, where do you think you're going?"

"I've gotta leave," Jeff shook his head frantically. "It's my grandma, she's in the hospital, I've gotta go."

"Jeff, come on."

"There's no one else to take care of her."

"Seriously. Quit it."

"You'll be ok by yourself tonight right?" Jeff ignored everything Eddie said and looked at him expectantly as he dug his hand in his pockets for his car keys.

For a moment, Eddie felt the panic rise within him; he figured Jeff was a little upset that he bailed the past few nights but...seriously it wasn't anything that Jeff couldn't handle.

Was his friend really that mad?

"Listen I'm sorry I bailed on work a few times this week," he apologized, but Jeff just shook his head and pulled out a roll of quarters.

Then another.

Then another.

And the panic Eddie had faded into curiosity, then realization.

No, Jeff wasn't mad; he was annoyed.

"Hey listen, it's just for tonight so I can check on my grandma, you'll be ok," Jeff explained as he walked over to the old jukebox in the corner of the dining room. He began loading the old machine up with quarters and punching buttons in rapid succession. "I'll even make it up to you. You can have all the tips in the tip jar from before you got here earlier and I'll put on some music that you'll like. Hey look, Ben took your advice and updated this a little.

"He even has your favorite Ed," Jeff glanced over his shoulder. "Styx."

Eddie groaned in loathing this time, thinking of the power ballads and synthesizer nightmares he was about to endure because his friend was gonna get back at him.

The Grand Illusion. Or worse Paradise Theater.

The records inside of the machine shifted as they queued up tracks for the next however-long Jeff had paid for.

"Don't do this Jeff," Eddie pleaded as his friend grabbed his jacket from the coatrack by the door. "I'll never skip work again. I promise. Just stay."

"But my grandma needs me Eddie..." he whined and then winked at Eddie before running out the door. "Have fun."

Eddie sighed and accepted defeat as the door shut and Jeff was gone, all while the sparkly synthesized voice began amidst electronic fanfare...

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto...

---

7PM

You know what? It didn't start out that bad.

"You're wondering who I am," Eddie sang along and bopped to the beat as he flipped burgers on the flat top. "Secret, secret, I've got a secret."

He had food to cook and orders to take and he fell right back into the routine of those short staffed nights when Benny started to realize how much he valued his personal time, but right before Jeff was hired.

It would be fine.

And there was a little musical accompaniment? Even better.

He figured that he might start loading the machine up with quarters before his shifts from now on, instead leaving it up to the chance of the customers.

"Machine or Mannequin?" He did a little spin. "Secret secret, I've got a secret."

Eddie hadn't even realized that the song that started out the night--Mr. Roboto--repeated itself until he got back to the kitchen, and then it repeated again.

And again.

He had to admit it was growing on him though. Like a cancer, but still growing. So he either needed to adapt or it would kill him. The lyrics were catchy, he could dance to it a little, and there was a good beat that he could almost headbang to if he tried.

It wasn't even that he hated Styx, he just hated what Styx stood for. Mainstream popular music. It was commercial and sanitized. Yeah Babe wasn't that bad of a song. And neither was this one. Shit...if he really thought about it, was the band even really that popular? They were underdogs, and he always rooted for an underdog.

"With parts made in Japan," he sang into his spatula and slapped slices of cheese onto his patties for dramatic effect. "I am thee modern man!"

---

8PM

So if you see me, acting strangely, don't be surprised.

There was a little bell at the pass that got hit whenever an order was up.

Of course, with Eddie being the only one working it didn’t need to get hit.

Still, every time Eddie passed it, he just had to tap his hand on the bell along with whatever verse or instrumental was playing.

I’m a man who needed someone and somewhere to hide.

It wasn’t getting to him.

No. Not at all.

It was just a graduation from him playing air guitar with a broom and drumming on the counter with spoons.

Ding ding ding ding ding, ding ding ding ding ding.

Eddie tapped at the bell with both hands at the crescendo and then went to the walk-in to scream.

Nothing to worry about.

---

9PM

I’ve come to help you with your problems, so we can be free.

“Hey can you change the song at all? This one’s been repeating for a while.”

Eddie smiled tightly at the guy at the head of the long rectangular table and then dropped the blue plate special down in front of him with a clatter.

“It’s broken,” he explained, not wanting to get into it.

Several customers had asked already; it was getting as annoying as people who said they were tipping with kindness. Obviously if he could get another song on the jukebox, he would.

How many fucking quarters had Jeff put in there?

“Could you unplug it? Plug it back in again?”

He’d thought of that too.

But wasn’t it just his luck that they lived in the do-it-yourself amateur handyman Midwest…and the damn thing was wired into the wall itself.

And he really didn’t want to cut the line and have to explain to Benny how an electrical fire burnt down his diner.

“You know what?” Eddie took a slow, calming breath. “This is actually…my favorite song." There was a disbelieving blink. "A-and it’s my birthday.”

The withering look he received made him second guess burning down the place; it actually didn’t seem so bad after all. He could deal with Benny.

I’m just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control. Beyond my control. We all need control.

---

10PM

I am the modern man, who hides behind a mask…

Eddie wore his Freak label proudly.

He accepted it, everyone else accepted it.

But maybe this music was getting to him a little bit as he started noticing of the different inanimate objects around Benny’s that he could potentially fuck.

That was a level of Freak that he really hadn’t embraced yet.

So no one else can see my true identity!

Well, it was sort of always there simmering beneath the surface. He had been a horny teenager and was now a horny young man. There was always a question about what objects he could stick his dick into.

But he’d tried to curb that curiosity after the pool noodle incident.

Now though…he was far enough gone that things were starting to appeal to him again. And it scared him a little bit for those thoughts to pop up during work.

Not enough to stop though.

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.

First it was a bagel with the perfect hole.

Actually, was it even the music causing this? How dare that bagel look so damn fuckable. Cream cheese wouldn’t be the best lube, he had to admit. But he didn’t mind trying. Unfortunately that bagel was needed for someone’s sober-up sandwich.

Then there was a hole in the vinyl of one of the booths. He stared at it every time he brought out an order or bussed a table. Eventually he couldn’t help himself and he lightly ran two fingers over it and then plunged them inside the hole, like a lover would, only to find the edges were jagged and rough…and he was disappointed that it wouldn’t be the most pleasurable experience.

He wasn’t one to say no to a little bit of teeth when getting his dick sucked but that wasn’t what he was looking for right now.

At one point he even considered fucking the jukebox itself. Get it to shut up once and for all.

The logistics weren’t right.

Where would he even put his cock? Just rub the head of him along the coin slot while he jerked off? Pass.

His depravity needed to be put on hold though, because as he was in the walk-in trying to cut a channel into a head of iceberg that might be the perfect fit for him, he spotted a tub of hamburger with a label in Benny’s chicken scratch saying “discard” with the date.

He froze and let his thoughts swirl before he shook his head and put the iceberg down. He slammed his hand against his forehead as though that would make his internal monologue right itself.

Because what the hell was he doing?

Regardless of the absolute torture he was enduring, he was still at work and had a job to do.

Why was he trying to fuck a head of lettuce? Or fingering a hole in a booth. No, he was absolutely losing his mind, he needed to control himself, he needed to get back to work.

He was about to exit the walk-in when he glanced back at the tub.

“Can't forget that tonight,” he muttered to himself as a reminder.

Then back into the kitchen he went.

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.

---

11PM

“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” Eddie muttered as he dropped maraschino cherries into milkshakes. His voice was ragged, desperate. Pleading. “For doing the job nobody wants to.”

“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” he deadpanned as he numbly swept the floor. “For helping me escape when I needed to.”

Thank you.

Thank you.

I wanna thank you.

Please thank you.

Thank you thank you.

Thank you thank you.

“Thank you,” Eddie smiled, as the joy finally die inside of his body as he rang out the last customers. But it was rapidly born once again as he waved goodbye. “Thank you thank you!”

---

12AM

The doors were locked, the lights in the dining room closed.

And Eddie stood in the kitchen with a lit cigarette in his mouth as he concentrated on the task at hand.

The problem was plain to see. Too much technology. The jukebox still played out on the floor.

Machines to save our lives? No. Machines dehumanize.

He shouldn’t be fucking the jukebox or a head of lettuce or a bagel. No. He needed something warm and malleable.

Living.

Or well…close enough.

It was the perfect idea! Instead of taking it right to the dumpster, he’d taken the tub of ground chuck out of the walk-in and let it get to room temp at the end of his shift, and now he was standing there molding it into the right shape.

He was ready and aching after palming himself in anticipation. He’d meticulously wrapped his hard cock in plastic wrap, for lack of a better option. He needed this.

He deserved this.

Why hadn’t he ever thought of this before?

The time has come at last…

He put out the cigarette in the meat then lined up with the channel he'd crafted. He hissed as he sunk in—synthesized angels sung all around him, guitars strumming in harmony—and finally felt relief for the first time all night.

Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.

His hips rocked in time with the beat, driving deeper and deeper. He felt the slightest bit of cold when he finally bottomed out, the center of the Chuck not entirely at room temp yet. It was an unexpected thrill and he shuddered as pleasure shot through him.

He let his head fall back and he laughed with the feeling, laughed uncontrollably, and the sound echoed through the diner, forever scarring the walls with wicked glee.

To throw away this mask.

It was strange, fucking what was essentially a mass of viscous sludge. Not bad, just strange. Not entirely wet but not dry either. Maybe it was perfect actually, something he never knew he needed. Just for him. A little slice of cheese...er, heaven...just for him.

Especially when he formed meat to suit his desires as it shifted.

That feral grin stayed on his lips as he worked himself to completion, as he pumped mercilessly.

Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.

And somewhere in all of the hubbub, Eddie came to the conclusion that although it wasn’t perfect, he could get used to it if he had to.

Because he had to.

He'd be stuck here forever, lost in Dennis DeYoung's vocal prison until the end of time.

Now everyone can see my true identity.

He thrust harder and faster, panting and kneading and clenching until all he knew was the meat and secret secrets and his own depravity as he spiraled downwards further into insanity.

I'm Kilroy.

He felt it coming.

Kilroy.

Cumming.

Kilroy.

It exploded out of him with those last few emphasized beats of the synthesizer. He felt the cling wrap bulge with his spend, felt the tingles along his spine and through his limbs as his orgasm shot through his body.

He leaned over, satiated, until his nose brushed the meat in sensuous exhaustion.

Kilroy.

He could hear his pulse in his ears, along with a buzzing din of tinnitus, and the ticking of a clock out in the dining room.

But where he expected the beginning of the next round of torture, Eddie only heard silence.

He breathed heavy, broken breaths. Gulps of air that felt like too much oxygen and not enough at the same time. He felt lightheaded.

It was over.

His punishment finally over.

He closed his eyes and thanked whatever God or Demon gifted him with this boon, and then his eyes shot open and he stood straight up as he stared at the mess he made.

"Fuck."

---

The Next Day, 5PM

Jeff felt like the cat that ate the cream when he drove to work the following day.

He felt a little bad about what he’d done to Eddie, and he had all the intention to make it back to Benny’s around 7 or 8, but Gareth had convinced him not to.

“Come on,” he’d told Jeff. “You know Eddie’s gonna get a good laugh out of it.”

“Yeah! Besides,” Dave interjected. “Shame on him for leaving you up shit’s creek so much. Hopefully this’ll teach him a lesson.”

And Jeff agreed with them.

He and Eddie were friends but that didn’t mean Eddie could walk all over him.

He was glad to see the van parked in Benny’s lot when he arrived for his shift, and as far as he could tell, everything was normal when he walked in.

Ben was at the grill and Eddie at the counter.

Actually, everything looked better than normal. Everything in the diner looked squeaky clean and under the smells of cooked food, there was a tinge of the disinfectant they used to deep clean.

“You must’ve had the slowest night ever if you did a deep clean of the place,” Jeff clapped a hand on Eddie’s back and noticed that Eddie stiffened under his touch. “What time did all those quarters run out?”

Eddie laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“Little after midnight,” he chuckled. “And it was fine. But, uh, now I know better than to fuck with you again.”

“Yeah you’re on time today, you beat me here!”

Eddie grabbed his arm as he passed and then leaned in close, voice pleading and desperate.

“I’ll never be late again, won’t be a no show, but please…don’t ever subject me to that hell again. Please.”

"Scout's honor," Jeff cackled.

Upon Eddie’s look of relief, Jeff headed back to get himself settled.

He chatted with Benny for a second before the older man left for the night. But as he went to the walk-in to get more onions to chop, he noticed something.

“Hey Ed!” He called out through the pass and Eddie turned. “Thanks for tossing that ground chuck! Or…Domo arigato I guess heh.”

He turned back to the task at hand, so he didn’t notice all the color drain from Eddie’s face.

[apinkheartinmiddle-earth]

I was watching The Two Towers again recently and I realized something about Eowyn. Many paint her as this strong badass woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone, which is still true in a sense. However, people tend to forget that she is still a flawed character and has a long way to go in the story so far.

This was probably the intention of the scene, but when she was complaining about having to be with the women in the caves, it kind of left a bad taste in my mouth. The women of Rohan tending to the children and finding food is still an important task, after all. Eowyn was practically looking down on them because they weren’t doing the badass stuff assigned to the men. More so because she couldn’t be able to join the men in battle. She fails to see that someone needs hold the fort so that the warriors have a home to come back to. Without those staying at home, Rohan would fall apart.

It was good on Aragorn for calling the women’s duties an honorable charge because he knows damn well that their role is just as important as those in battle. I love how he holds them in highest respect for it and calls out Eowyn for how she talks down on them. Aragorn is calling out Eowyn for her internalized misogyny, basically.

Now, I am not going to drag Eowyn and call her awful (why the fuck would I, I literally love her). I’m trying to look at this from a place of understanding at how she could have possibly got this mindset in the first place. It just suddenly struck me that one of the reasons she probably thinks this way is because she didn’t really grow up with a significant mother or female figure in her life whose duties involved the home. She was raised by a man whose job was to command armies. Therefore, she has never truly understood why these women chose to hold the fort instead of going out into the trenches. Tending to the house and taking care of the children is an inherently thankless job but a very important one nonetheless.

Eowyn putting down these women and their duties was perhaps because of her lack of understanding, not because she held any resentment towards them. In fact, she probably wanted them to fight alongside the men like what she desired for herself. But it bears repeating that what she fails to see is that someone has to take care of matters at home. It would be amazing if the women of Rohan had the opportunity to go into battle, but alas, they have to stay there since they have little say in doing so. Sexist? Quite. But the women are still doing their job at home the best they can.

Weirdly enough, that scene of Eowyn complaining to Aragorn actually made her character development all the more meaningful to me. Remember by the end when she decided to become a healer and love all things that grow? Yeah, some people didn’t fuck with it because they thought Eowyn was going to become dainty and submissive. However, I rocked with Eowyn making that decision.

This was the turning point in Eowyn’s story when she realized that war fucking sucks and that her worth shouldn’t come from how many enemies she can slay or how traumatized she can get from the horrors of war. She finally chose to prioritize love, kindness, gentleness, growth, and happiness. That’s about the most badass thing someone can do, to be completely honest. As a result, Eowyn has surely grown from looking down on the mothers and other carers in Rohan.

This is in no way trying diminish her typical badass heroine characteristics, but to show people that she still really had a long way to go in spite of her obvious strengths. It’s just that her battling capabilities and desire to fight with the armies don’t necessarily make her better than those who are just trying to keep their families safe and fed at home. I love how she grew from this mindset and chose instead to be empowering in her own way without the need to put down other women who obviously had important jobs to do.

[syoish-aot]

HOLY SHIT IT'S DONE!!

I was having some intense posting paralysis all morning (I think I reread the last scene like 15x just to make sure it was worded exactly right).

*he terrifying fear when you write something you really love and you're scared no one else will like it as much as you do*

ANYWAY -

Thank you so much to everyone that's been regularly reading slash commenting on I Found You! It was my first time posting fic to tumblr and I had a lot of fun doing it!

I always have SO MANY ideas for fics, but I get overwhelmed by the idea of seriously perusing them. A lot of this comes from the fear that no one will read them and I'll have spent all of my time writing for absolutely nothing. BUT I've been trying to humble myself lately and recognize the joy in the writing process itself and the satisfaction of getting my ideas fully fleshed out on paper aka google docs regardless of the attention they get.

Despite that, anyone who writes fic understands how shitty it feels when you work for DAYS on something and get crickets in the comments. It sucks. And that's sort of how I've been feeling with my fics on Ao3 lately- which kicks my motivation right in the ass.

In writing I Found You, I think I got some of that motivation back. Not JUST because I was getting regular commenters (again, thank you so much) but also because I was able to slip fully into my self indulgence and finally write out one of the verses that's been existing in my mind palace for MONTHS!

So, all of this rambling is to say this -

I really liked sharing this story with you guys on tumblr, and I'm for sure going to be doing more of this style in the future.

I'll be posting I Found You to Ao3 as well, but I want to edit it a bit (and possibly add a few more scenes) before doing that.

Basically the version I posted here is more of a rough draft, and then the final version will be the one on Ao3.

If you like my writing, consider checking out my Reader/Eren long fic "Ten Seconds" (100k, complete on Ao3) or the post-canon Jean/OC fic I'm working on "The Letters She Wrote"

If you read all of this, then here's your reward - a sneak peak at the VERY LONG isekai/time travel fic that I'm going to be working on next...

Chapter 1 - "You, 2000 years in the future"

Shiganshina High - 2024

You’d taken Ancient History as an elective to fill your schedule because no other class fit in the period. 

Also to piss off your dad about not taking AP calculus.

(But mostly it was the schedule thing.)

It wasn’t that you disliked Ancient History, you just found it painfully boring and mind numbing. It was the class right after lunch and every assignment was another boring paper that sounded the exact same over and over and over again.

(Although it did leave you wondering how many times you could start a paper with “the oxford dictionary defines discovery as…” before Mr. Arlert, the ancient old man who taught the class, caught on.)

Thankfully, you didn’t have to put too much effort into the class to get a good grade and because of that the class was an easy A that you could use to maintain your honor roll. Mr. Arlert was retiring at the end of the year, so he was pretty much entirely checked out. You had a feeling he didn’t actually read any of your papers and gave your grades out based on how well he assumed you did the assignment. Which, again, meant you got an A on every one. So Mr. Arlert had a habit of putting on documentaries instead of actually teaching anything. 

And you weren’t about to complain about that.

Armin was sitting next to you furiously taking notes on the documentary that Mr. Arlert, his grandpa and teacher, had put on. You understood his struggle to impress his grandpa in the class he taught on a personal level. You used to be like that when it came to math, but now you normally felt yourself doing the opposite. “The opposite”, meaning:

Not taking AP calculus.

Writing the wrong answer on a quiz, even after doing the work to prove the correct one.

Asking pointless questions in class just to see him get that constipated I-can’t-treat-you-like-my-daughter-right-now-because-you’re-my-student-but-god-do-I-wish-I-could-ground-you look.

You smiled at the memory, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until the monotone voice of the documentary playing at the front of the class pulled  you back into the present:

“The ancient people of Paradis elected large walls, presumably to protect themselves from invaders during this time.” You looked back at the projector. There was a poorly done animation of what historians suspect the three large walls may have looked like, back when they still stood almost 2000 years ago. 

The documentary, just like every documentary Mr. Arlert put on, seemed pretty pointless to show to a class of eleventh graders who were already very aware of the mysterious history of Paradis. 

You’d all grown up here and had been taught about this stuff since grade school. Paradis was a major hub for ancient history. There were dozens of museums throughout the island, all holding different ancient artifacts and pieces of your country’s history. Pieces that’s functions had been lost to time, leaving archeologists only able to guess the true history of your people and what these items were for.

“...purpose of them is still unknown, some archaeologists theorize they were used for early agriculture, although others argue they may have been used for religious reasons…”

On the screen was one of the most mysterious relics of ancient Paradis. Two metal cylinders, attached to some sort of strap. Normally, they were found with a large box of metal that was meant to hold something, along with canisters of unknown contents. The were rare, but a few dozen of them had been uncovered in the last hundred years and have only continued to add to the mystery of ancient Paradis. 

Of course, you were curious what their origins may be too, but not curious enough to look into it further than this class and the occasional trip you make to the Paradis Museum. 

“...these large man-eating monsters were an important part of Paradis folklore, some argue they were likely worshiped as go-”

The bell rang, finally saving you from your mind numbing documentary focused torture.

“Ah!” Mr. Arlert jerked awake at his desk. “Yes, well- I hope you all learned something important today!” He quickly said as he stood. “Don’t forget, your final papers are due on Monday morning. Despite it, I hope you’re able to enjoy your weekend!”

You hoped so too.

God, did you hope so...

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Can u pretty please make daddy some Disney descendants headcanons and Rodrick Heffley too???

But kitten whiskers- I don’t do descendants….. BUT I WILL DO RODERICK

Roderick Heffley Hcs (General)

-he’s so bisexual you guys like actually in my brain he’s can only bisexual

-he really likes getting his makeup done but pretends to hate it, like if you do it at first he’ll complain about you touching his face but love the feeling secretly and the result

-I feel like he has some really unnoticed trauma with how his parents treat him

-Greg gets to sort of be a brat and do whatever but I headcanon that maybe he thinks he’s really not good enough because his parents treat him like a delinquent

-everyone does, actually. His teachers, peers… imagine having that repeated over and over… eventually you just… believe it

-damn I didn’t mean to turn this angsty but yk it’s Roderick what do you expect

-He drinks milk from the carton (canon but honorable mention)

-I feel like he likes punk, emo, and rock music genres a lot and switches quite frequently between genres in his bands music

-also he’s a horrible driver (also canon but honorable mention)

-I also think he’s a horrible pedestrian, like he just doesn’t look before jaywalking

-absolutely the type to toast Greg about any music he listens to, unless Roderick likes it, then he will get some passive approval

-he thinks he looks a lot cooler than he does sometimes tbh, but honestly just has low self esteem due to his environment

-I don’t think he likes any veggies besides carrots unless they are on pizza, I just think he’s a picky eater lmao

-speaking of food he LOVES potato chips

-I think he’s not super informed on politics which can be annoying but sometimes he gets really into it which is nice to see, and if he had a partner he would let you rant about them

-I think he totally paints his nails, other colors than black too and doesn’t gaf if anyone has anything to say about that

-I think he really is a mamas boy at heart, I think even though they have more banter they get along a lot better than him and his dad

-but I feel like he thinks neither of his parents really understand him, and music is his way of coping with that sometimes

-if he hears someone talking about a band he loves he will get super duper excited but act disinterested so nobody thinks he’s uncool

-honestly just low damn self esteem and confidence, even if he pretends otherwise

-would have an amazing relationship with his brother if his brother would stop being a an tattle tale 💀

-he gets paid around the neighborhood to do certain jobs like mowing grass or shoveling snow but he sucks at all his jobs, wether than being on time, or doing them in general, so most of the time Greg end up stealing his jobs

-the one subject he is surprisingly decent at is English- specifically reading comprehension. I feel like he has a lot of really interesting concepts but he doesn’t know how to word them correctly- and is too scared to anyway because he thinks no matter what he’s gonna sound stupid

-he has that one thing where there’s constant ringing in your ears from listening to music far too loud

-he lives for weird ass graphic tees and cool belts

-I feel like he likes some really niche bands and gets pissed whenever/if it ever goes mainstream- “I liked that before it was popular” 🤓☝️

-OKAY he does that thing where if a girl wear a band shirt he asks if she can even name five songs because he thinks it’s like flirty but it’s actually just annoying and he gets slapped for that

-The hygiene on this mf is disgraceful- only starts wearing deodorant AFTER he gets a partner

-one time he went out and got his ears pierced and probably now had some cool ass earrings

-even though he mains the drums he can play the bass and guitar pretty well

[minotaur-asterion]

The voices, and when they get down with the sickness (long post underneath, please prepare yourself):

I think Hero kind of wishes they could act out that classic sickfic scene where they get to stay in bed all day and someone brings them soup and takes good care of them. Well, it’ll never happen with that nervous attitude, so until they get the balls to ask someone they’ll have to suck it up and take care of themselves. So, so tired the entire time. Poor meow meow

Alternatively, Hero’s a doting caretaker, if not physically distant. Doesn’t want to catch anything… but rest assured, they’re at their charge’s beck and call- they’ll bring food, medicine, heating pads, blankets, the crown of Russia, Russia, and more!

Cold can’t tell until something really noticeable happens, and even then it can be a while before he figures out he’s sick. Oh, his nose is running? It has been getting cold recently, no pun intended. He collapsed? Has to determine whether it was lack of sleep or if he got stabbed recently and that was blood loss; illness just doesn’t immediately come to mind. Might get a little loopy and out of it while recovering. Appreciates the lack of taste if forced to eat

Cold’s really good at treating sick folks, but taking care of them can be 50/50 depending on who it is. If he actually gives a shit he mostly curls up in a chair nearby and chills- again, pun not intended- until they need something. He might even offer the briefest of cuddles, which depending on his charge’s strength might end up lasting a lot longer than he planned

Cheated gets sick a lot- he doesn’t get much sleep so his body doesn’t have a lot of energy to fight it off. It’s total chaos if he gets a fever. Complains soooo much. But he gets very warmly happy if someone throws in the towel to take care of him. Wants to snuggle a lot

He refuses to take care of most of the others. Fuck them! But he’s probably going to get roped into it one way or another, knowing his luck. The only people he’d actually agree to care for is Opportunist and Contrarian since they live together. I’ve always imagined those three as a package deal anyway

Speaking of Opportunist- ey’re used to a little bit of body ache, so ey’re able to power through the less severe colds and such, just take it a little easier than usual, wear a mask to work, you know. It gets trickier when severe sickness aligns with a bad back day, ey don’t enjoy feeling like that while barely being able to move around. Ey’re honored if anyone decides to help, honestly…

Opportunist is a believer in laughter being the best medicine. He likes to talk and talk about all sorts of things just to take his charge’s mind off their symptoms. He also likes to hear himself talk, so it’s a bonus, really!

Contrarian… surprisingly barely ever gets sick. Or, at least, they don’t let on most of the times they do. Maybe they get a little quieter, but it’s surprisingly easy to melt into the crowd for them. It’s probably easier to not expect or ask for anything anyway

But on the contrary, pun intended this time, Contrarian loves to help out and take care of sick folks. God knows he’s not helpful at all with treating the sickness- which makes me think he’d be a good duo with Cold- but he’ll certainly entertain and keep company. “Oh, but you’ll catch something-“ he definitely will, but it’s worth it!

Paranoid is fascinated by disease. Would probably get sick and immediately think “how can I turn this into a zombie-making virus?” Jots down every single sniffle in her journal. Studies the microorganisms that caused it. Just really weird and iconically herself about it. The few times she does sleep, her dreams will be even weirder than usual. I think her obsession with recording the darn thing is overriding the symptoms

It’s much the same with when someone else is sick- pencil to paper, on a scale of one to ten how bad do you feel, describe your symptoms, can I get a swab for totally normal not nefarious reasons. Makes sure to wash her hands after existing in the same room as anyone who’s sick

Broken genuinely doesn’t think it’ll make it. Sure, it’s a really light flu, but it just won’t survive. Most illnesses are similar to a bad pain day regardless of how bad they’d normally be, but the good thing about the whole ordeal is snuggles and attention… Even if it’s out like a light most of the time. Might get weird and horny about it

Broken gets really worried about the others when they’re sick, and usually sticks them in bed if he can even move them there. Perches at the foot of the bed and watches closely. A little creepy, but he means well. So so so worried

Hunted’s surprisingly clean, so it’s hard for it to get too sick. Very pragmatic approach to dealing with it, which includes keeping everything clean during times when it feels better and resting when it feels worse. Doesn’t enjoy it for a second, especially when it clogs its ears and nose, but it’ll survive

Goes a little haywire when someone else is sick. You’ve never bore witness to the kind of strength it can muster to get someone in its nest. Protective as all get out, preens and tries to spoon feed. Will only allow people it trusts with its life- and maybe not even that depending on how feral it is- near the nest

Stubborn isn’t one to get sick often, and even then through the sheer power of, I dunno, muscles or something, he can fight it off pretty well. Just lay off the baking for a bit so he doesn’t accidentally infect anyone… In the rarest cases where he just can’t keep going as usual, he becomes surprisingly tame. Too tired to get all worked up. Sleepy little guy…

They can also be surprisingly helpful, especially with calming down a much stronger personality (cough. Hunted) who’s also trying to take care of someone sick. Makes the meanest fucking soup you’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. And I say this with Broken definitely in mind, but they get a little affectionate about it. Just a smidge. Not because they care about this person, no! Don’t be ridiculous

Smitten probably gets sick all the time from his flower allergies, but he can’t bring himself to stop gardening. That’s why he got allergy medicine. If it’s not allergies he’s stumped on what to do. Might even get dramatic about it- write his will, eat some ice cream while watching his favorite rom com shows (he knows at least that sugar can help calm nausea), read Shakespeare, uh… I don’t know what else he’d do but it’d be dramatic!

Smitten’s a total sweetheart when taking care of someone else. Breakfast in bed, reads to them (dyslexic, does silly voices), treats them like total royalty. The drawback? Literally never takes care of anyone on a whim. Has to be planned, premeditated. Draws up a schedule of the whole thing

Skeptic likes to take sick days slow. Sit in the butterfly garden. Unless it’s winter. Then he’ll just stay in bed the whole day. Probably hibernates through the illness and wakes up crusty but healthy

He’ll certainly try his best to take care of someone else, but he’s not that great at it. Good at reassuring them about their anxieties though. Gives them a little too much medicine

I have a feeling Meek might be immune to disease. Otherwise she’d fucking die. Sneezes so loudly it’s like a bomb went off

She’s also not great about helping someone through their sickness, but she’ll scoot into their lap and offer them to pet her. The others suspect she might even like being pet… she will vehemently deny it though

Flinching is very shaky when she’s sick. Terrible grip strength. She’ll realize something’s off when she accidentally drops her favorite mug and now has to sadly stare at it on the ground before Doubting picks it up and puts it back together (he made a mug that’s easy to repair specifically for this reason)

Very gentle with sick people, almost as though she’s afraid to break them. Wonderful bedside manner. If she wasn’t so squeamish she would’ve tried becoming a nurse, but alas, just a librarian for now…

Doubting’s vision is usually bleary, but eventually he’ll figure out something’s wrong when he puts his glasses on and he still can’t see well. He’s a good patient, though, and recovers quickly with the right conditions

A lot like Flinching, he’s also good about taking care of others. May or may not be developing experimental treatments for diseases though. Do not touch those beakers

Much like a huge disoriented beast, Obsessed doesn’t do well with sickness. It messes with them badly. Not as clean as Hunted about it but definitely not to be trifled with still. Think like a rabid animal, how they can lose their fear of certain things and just… stare

They don’t live near anyone, so there’s nobody to take care of when sick

[yuurei20]

Twisted Wonderland, the Novel: Failing to Defend Ace

Ace has presented a chestnut tart to Riddle to ask forgiveness for what he stole, only for Riddle to reveal an unknown rule about chestnut tarts and unbirthday parties, and order it thrown out.

Ace tries to stand up against Riddle and looks to his dormmates for support, but receives none. Not even from Yuuya.

--

“‘It is not that I want to behead anyone. But it is wrong for you all to break the rules. Even the smallest violations lead to larger problems. So I am only doing what is best for you.’

‘And who said you had to do that?’

‘No one has asked me to do this. As Housewarden, I have a responsibility to set an example for my dorm. All that is required is that you follow my example, and you do not talk back. You are permitted to respond with ‘Yes, Housewarden’, and nothing else.’

‘A little arrogant, don’t you think! You brag that you’ve never had a student repeat a year, but that’s because of the people who were able to endure these absurd rules, not because enforcing them is the only thing you know how to do!’

Ace looks back at the crowd of students behind him.

‘You all think so too, right? Don’t just stand there staring—say something.’

The moment Ace acknowledges them, every single student looks down at their feet. 

All Riddle has to do is open his mouth, and a collective shudder runs through the crowd.

‘You all think that I am stupid? That I am arrogant?’

'No, Housewarden!’

‘The Housewarden is always the most correct. Long live the Housewarden!’

‘Hah!? Sucking up to him now when you all complain behind his back—you losers.’

The crowd only repeats itself, however, as though to drown out Ace’s accusations.

‘Long live the Housewarden!’, they cry, fear visible on their faces. ‘Long live the Housewarden!’

The chanting continues on, unabated. The degree of unity is almost frightening. 

Trey and Cater stand in silence.

‘Look around you. It seems the only strange one here is you.’

Surrounded by a cheering crowd, Riddle proudly basks in his victory.

Closed in upon from all sides, Ace’s face in contorted in frustration.

This is a nightmare. Just looking at the disastrous scene before him is enough to make Yuuya dizzy. It is so similar to the dream he had the night before, and yet so, so much worse.

Because the person struggling before him this time is not some soldier made of playing cards—it is Ace.

Yuuya has always wanted a chance to help Ace one day, as Ace has already come to his aid many times, over and over again. And yet, his feet are frozen in fear. The thought of jumping headfirst into this maelstrom is terrifying.

Yuuya is still cradling Grim, who taps him on the arm. And he’s right: this cannot go on. Yuuya knows this, and yet his throat is so dry that it hurts to swallow. How is he supposed to speak out like this?

Looking to where Ace stands all alone, Yuuya feels his arms cramp. Yuuya wants to speak out for him.

With a rough gasp of breath Yuuya finally manages to open his mouth, and in that moment, Deuce steps forward.

‘I’m with Ace on this one.’

Deuce is looking at Riddle with the same intensity in his eyes that he’d had when challenging the upperclassmen from Savanaclaw.

‘You are Deuce Spade,’ Riddle icily acknowledges. ‘You are going to defy me, your Housewarden? You are aware of the severity of this crime, I’m sure.’

‘…yeah. You shouldn’t go against the boss. That’s not what honor students do. That’s what I’ve always thought.’

Deuce punches a closed fist into the palm of his opposite hand, and with that seems to shake off any remaining hesitation.

‘But pretending not to see something wrong when it’s right in front of you—honor students don’t do that, either!’

Ace, who has been staring with mouth agape, bursts into laughter.

‘Ahaha! What is this? Even you can be right sometimes.’

’Shut up. I’m not defending you. I know that rules are important, but I think that this is going too far. Saying the tart that everyone made together is disgusting? Punishment just for bringing it? This isn’t right!’

‘Exactly. Talking about crimes and doing what is best for us—who wants a spoiled tyrant like you around, anyway?’

Riddle has gone completely still.

‘What did you just say?’

His voice has become so quiet, it is especially frightening.

Slipping free of Yuuya’s trembling arms and dropping to the ground, Grim bares his fangs at Riddle.

‘He said you’re an angry, spoiled, food-wastin’ tyrant!’

‘Eh!?’

‘I never went that far!’

Deuce and Ace both gulp.

Seeing Riddle’s bright-red face Yuuya reaches out a hand, but he is too late: Riddle’s staff has already come down.

‘Off with your head!’"

[softievante]

lowkey got hooked when you did that seoksoon prompt so maybe it'd be nice to see the oblivious weight gain hit seokmin like a truck and he only realizes it after breaking open his pants after a meal and soonyoung is definitely going to like enjoy teasing him as revenge even if he's only gotten heavier since

hello thank you for my first request since my hiatus it’s an honor to fulfil brainworms 🤓 especially with these two as the pairing hehe

i Loved getting this bc !! mutual gaining !! yay! hope you enjoy it <3

(to anyone reading this a stand-alone, it’s actually a sequence to this prompt/ficlet)

having a chubby boyfriend wasn’t on any of seokmin’s particular list of wants when he pictured a partner by his side. don’t get this wrong, though, since he actually never thought about any specific figure, much less a specific person before he met soonyoung. the adjective in question, however, is having a bigger impact than he’s ever dreamed on his relationship—in a good, crazy-driving-way, of course, with a focus on the big aspects of the whole scenario.

soonyoung has only gained more weight since the night he realised his pants were giving up on his stupid ass, seokmin has only used more and more of his dick these days as he couldn’t seem to stop getting enough of a well filled-out soonyoung.

(it’s like he was trying to knock the poor boy up, seriously. it didn’t help that one time soonyoung mentioned this and seokmin went completely nuts, having too much material on his hands with soonyoung’s round belly...)

so, having a chubby s/o wasn’t on his list of requirements, but now he thinks he wouldn’t have any other way. specially as he got to witness every little change on his boyfriend’s body, that now took much more space everywhere, the fluffiness impossible to hide.

the thighs, for fuck’s sake… seokmin thinks he could die crushed by them.

that morning, an image that became periodic in that apartment caught his eyes when he was about to enter their shared bathroom. soonyoung is planted on the scale, brows furrowed as he tried to find a way to check which numbers were on the screen—he could no longer suck his gut out of his vision, apparently.

ignoring the twitch of his cock in favour of being annoying, seokmin walks silently and puts half of his foot in the space between soonyoung’s feet, pressing it down in order to make the numbers go up.

“uh? how is this…” as soonyoung leaves the position and seokmin’s quick to step off, careful to stay behind him, his crescent-moon eyes go wide in surprise.

“what? did it break already?” seokmin’s voice comes next to soonyoung’s shoulders, provoking as always. the latter almost jumped on spot.

“oh my god, fuck off! i almost fainted!” he slaps him in retaliation, although the jolting movement of all of his “extras” only make seokmin smile more.

he’s having the time of his life kissing soonyoung’s pout away while he gropes his sides, the soft flesh flexible like dough under his hands.

“sorry, it’s just so cute when you don’t know what’s happening while deep down you really want that weight on you…” seokmin explains his actions, giving soonyoung’s belly a few gentle taps.

soonyoung gasps.

“w-what, who said i want that?”

“you don’t need to verbally communicate, your panic says it all.”

“i hate you,” he complains, lightly pushing seokmin away. with the touch, soonyoung notices how his fingers sinked more than usual, seokmin’s chest definitely more cushioned than he remembers. interesting.

“no you don’t,” seokmin retorts meanwhile soonyoung’s busy checking out his frame, gaze attentive to how the pyjama shorts hugged his thighs in a way that it certainly didn’t before. “wanna reserve this friday for a stuffing? it’s been a while since we did that, right?”

the option runned through soonyoung’s head while he rest his hand on seokmin’s hip. it was… softer than before? a gentle squeeze was gave on the spot as a thought formed in his mind, bright and alluring.

“actually…” he says, letting digits press on seokmin’s waist. it’s delightful how they knead the supple flesh. “i think i’m ok for now. we can have a watch party, though. we really need to catch up on that mexican drama we said we’d wait for the episodes to pile up, remember?”

“oh, right! that sounds good.” soonyoung nods just to reassure it, even though his focus is long lost in the new revelation under his palms. seokmin offers, “but do you want anything special to eat? to compensate for my awful behaviour of scaring you…” he singsongs in a mock.

soonyoung grins, unbothered by the teasing and knowing exactly what to choose in order to confirm his suppositions.

“no. pizza’s fine.”

***

friday comes after a very stressful week, so seokmin doesn’t mind keeping his work clothes on as he proceeds to open a beer and text soonyoung that he’s already at home. they usually get 10 minutes before or after one another, so it’ll probably be a short wait.

seokmin frees three buttons of his shirt as he heads to open the windows to make the breeze circulate. it’s hot today, and thank god he still got a few more beers left in the fridge in case soonyoung takes longer than expected to arrive.

he continues to get comfortable in spite of the formal dressing, tie being discarded on a chair and shirt untucked from his pants. the belt is unbuckled along a sigh of relief, the pressure of a whole day in and out of meetings seeming to dissipate with the action. seokmin adjusts the tight fabric of the bottom clothes, still, tugging it in an attempt to feel less trapped. if he was in one of his moods, it’d already be gone, but since the night was settled on a watch party, he didn’t wanna appear too horny.

he sits down on the sofa, not seeming to notice how his body sinks further in the cushion, takes a generous gulp of the beer can, and waits.

***

seokmin is on his second can and finishing a bag of chips when soonyoung arrives, three large pizza boxes stacked on his hands.

“hellooo,” he greets, getting rid of his shoes before stepping into the apartment. “me and the pizzas are home!”

“wow, what a perfect timing,” seokmin comments as he gets up, a small grunt leaving his lips due to the effort after having sat back so comfortably.

“isn’t it?” soonyoung grins, knowing the two of them would get grumpy if they had to wait for the order still. it seemed a good idea to get their dinner on the way.

seokmin gives him a gentle peck, helping with the pizza boxes as soonyoung analyzed the small table—not as empty as he generally found.

“were you already snacking without me?” he narrowed his eyes, grabbing the empty chip bag as if presenting evidence.

“hm, yeah? you know i can’t drink on an empty stomach, it makes me dizzy,” seokmin mumbles, apparently not mindful of the curious stare he was receiving.

soonyoung’s brain is instantly alarmed by the observation, fighting back a smile as he looks at his boyfriend’s bloated middle, more than obvious when he bents to organize the pizzas.

“right.” soonyoung licks his lips, not strong enough to stop himself from slapping seokmin’s ass just to feel it jiggling. damn.

“hey!” seokmin yelps, meeting soonyoung’s mischievous expression when he straightens up. “what’s this now, didn’t we agree on a drama night?”

“am i not allowed to have fun anymore?” soonyoung feigns a shocked face, palm at his chest.

seokmin shoves him playfully, holding out his hand next to invite him to sit down.

“yeah, of course…” he says before reaching out to grab a slice, wasting no time in biting it almost in half.

and to think soonyoung is the one being teased for his eating habits all the time…

maybe it was time someone got conscious of their acquired manners as well.

***

soonyoung thinks this is the most self-control he’s had for months, but it doesn’t hurt as he thought it would. the holding back doesn’t seem too bad, although he spent the day taking it easy on his meals. after all, it is for a good cause. he’s now more than sure seokmin didn’t enjoy his gain as a merely passive watcher. he, too, spilled as they sat, both from the sides and from the front, stomach a protruding roundness that only drew more attention as he finished the second beer in small sips.

seokmin didn't have soonyoung's somewhat desperate way of eating, but he had a surprising ability to stuff food in his mouth. it was an entertainment, a private show, watching him devour his favourite dish in big bites that left his cheeks full for almost a whole minute.

soonyoung took advantage of his distraction with the series running on the tv (as well as with the absurd amount of cheese he swallowed each time) to revisit the places that caught his attention throughout the week—the thick thighs that doubled in size when he sat down, the arms that gained a layer of fat on top of the muscle he built at the gym he went to three days a week. maybe that could have slowed down the gain at first, but it wasn’t able to do a miracle in the face of mindlessly snacking during the day with the excuse of filling up soonyoung.

thighs, arms, belly, cute cheeks to match soonyoung’s. his ass was on another level, certainly giving him more comfort to stay seated for hours if he wanted to.

and the fucking pants. soonyoung revels in the thought that this might come full circle in a short time, because soon that poor fabric isn’t gonna stretch more to accommodate his boyfriend’s indulgences.

“hey, is there still pepperoni left?” he asks, partly to mask his embarrassing enthusiasm, and a little to see seokmin’s roundness showing again as he leans for a slice.

“hm, i think we ate it all, but let me see.”

soon came, well, sooner than soonyoung had expected. as seokmin surges forward, he lets out an audible groan, which is accompanied by an also audible rip.

if soonyoung had cat-like ears, they’d be up and moving at the moment.

“what was that?”

“what,” seokmin parrots, slowly dropping the slice in its box while he moves back to sit properly and inspect the presumed damage.

“oh my god,” soonyoung spits out as he watches seokmin’s hands travel to his own middle, lifting his shirt just enough to understand what happened. in case seokmin himself didn’t get it, soonyoung exclaims like a kid who won a brand new toy, “you tore open your work pants!”

“no i– i didn’t, i–” it’s useless. he did. and there’s no time to comprehend the extent of his humiliation.

in a blink, soonyoung is all over him, pinning him to the sofa in a trap with no escape (he had the weight advantage, in the end). his thighs settle on seokmin’s lap without mercy, eliciting a grunt out of him.

“s-soonyoung, wait,” seokmin pleads, the fullness of his belly much more heavy in that position. it’s mortifying.

and soonyoung isn’t kind.

“wait for what? you don’t want me to see how fat you’ve gotten?”

it’s like the air is sucked out of seokmin’s lungs, his insides burning in a mix of shame and awkward arousal.

“shut up, you’re the one to talk,” he tries to quip, feeling ridiculous to be downgraded by someone who’s up his size by a considerable amount of pounds.

“yeah, i’m the one to talk, because at least i’m aware of it,” soonyoung bites back, lifting seokmin’s shirt to finally reveal the chubbiness that had taken over a defined abdomen. he bites his lower lip, entranced. “look at this, how did you manage to hide it from me, huh?”

“i didn’t hide anything!” seokmin squirms, hating that he’s somehow enjoying the attention. “there’s nothing to hide.”

“of course there’s nothing to hide,” soonyoung responds like he’s sputtering facts. “you have a lot to show now, actually.”

seokmin mutters a shut up, breathless both due to the shame of being so blatantly teased by his boyfriend and to the rich meal stuffing him.

it doesn’t help that soonyoung has landed his salient tummy exactly where his dick is starting to tent, and neither does the satisfying sensation of small, cute fingers feeling him up as they please.

the question that leaves soonyoung’s mouth is shoot without further thought, “can i feed you?”

seokmin chuckles, unsure if out of disbelief or nervousness.

“you’re really into this roles reversed thing, aren’t you?”

“it’s just that now i see why you got so eager to fatten me up…” he pouts, almost convincing with the innocent facade he puts on. seokmin swallows a moan when a squeeze pinches his flanks. “so much more to grab, ah,” soonyoung is caught by surprise when two palms land on his ass, making him screech. he smirks as seokmin encourages him to move, pressing him against his hard-on. two can play that game, right? “more seokminnie for me,” he whines, smushing his belly against seokmin’s.

“don’t get too excited, i’m not gonna let myself go like you,” seokmin warns in between a grunt, grasping soonyoung’s butt with fierce to let him know he can yet take control.

“right. keep telling yourself that.” soonyoung rolls his eyes, wiggling his hips just to be a tease before getting up to bring the small table closer, one hand resting at seokmin’s tummy to keep him in place. a slice in his hold, he plops on seokmin’s lap again. “we’ll soon be sharing clothes.”

seokmin snickers in disdain.

“you wish. enjoy this feeding session, ‘cause it’s gonna be the last.”

soonyoung bites his lower lip, knowing at his core that no, it wouldn’t. his boyfriend was just a stubborn asshole when he wanted to, but soonyoung could be much more stubborn.

“if you say so… now open up, baby. let’s see what more can this belly fit now that it’s free from evil buttons, hm?”

after a long sigh, seokmin obeys. somehow, he knows he’s wrong—this isn’t gonna be the last; not when being fed by your boyfriend feels so fucking good.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Take A Little Time For Me

Pairing: Kyle Crane x male reader Summary: reader gets some much needed alone time in a freshly cleared safe house Words: 1,065 Im so happy i actually wrote something today!! Warnings: dick, cock, balls Notes: idk if anyone actually reads anything with kyle but i finally wrote something so I'm not going to complain.

Pussy Words Version

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you sigh as the last zombie falls to the ground with a heavy thud, there weren't as many in this safe house as all the others you've cleared out today. You wrinkle your nose in disgust when one of the biters twitch, yeah, you definitely needed to clear this place out before you could rest.

It didn't take nearly as long to clear the apartment out, the splatter of blood on the ground after you threw the bodies out of the window was almost enough to make you sick but before you could delve too deep into your thoughts crane’s voice rang loud and clear over the earpiece.

“yo y/n, you alive?” he sounds so tired but god does it suit him, his husky drawl made something in your belly tingle pleasantly. “sadly” you reply wryly, it isn't long before he replies sounding unamused “That isn't funny y/n.” THAT makes your cock twitch, he sounds so done with you. your belly flutters as your mind wanders, you've been the recipient of his demands before but what would he sound like if he were ordering you to suck his cock, or fuck yourself with your own fingers.

With those thoughts rolling around in your perverted brain you quickly find yourself getting embarrassingly hard, you swallow hard and shift uncomfortably, your thighs are already sticky with your own sweat, you don't want to imagine the kind of mess your underwear would be in if this continued. “What’s got your panties in a twist crane?” You look down at your walkie to make sure you're on a private channel.

Crane gives you the honor of hearing him scoff before hes telling you off, sleepiness getting him agitated. Your cock throbs at the sound of his voice and before you can think rationally your hand gains a mind of its own and you find yourself rubbing your growing bulge through your pants, you're immediately met with the uncomfortable sensation of your sweat-stained boxer briefs. you curse and look around for some kind of wipes to at least clean your hands before you do anything else.

You come up with nothing so in a last-ditch effort you try the faucet and miraculously there's running water, the stream is weak, and its probably draining what little water is left from the pipes so you waste no time in shoving your pants down your thighs and getting your hand wet enough to half-ass cleaning your cock and balls before the water dries up.

“earth to y/n… are you okay? where are you?” Crane's voice breaks you out of your mindless stroking, you clear your throat before pressing the button on your earpiece, “Yeah, I'm okay… sorry” you curse yourself at how stupid your voice sounds “Uh… where are you?” You add meekly, hoping it could get him talking longer. “I’m back with the quartermaster just dropping some shit off” You shouldn't get so turned on by the sound of crane cursing but your dick throbs anyways.

“I’m heading out now, there's a lot of shit I need to get done before dark” he sounds like he's mumbling, he's probably outside. your hand moves back down to your crotch “Could you stop by here? I need some help” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think, you curse yourself but before you can get too deep into your self-pity crane sighs, his voice is rough and he sounds a little out of breath when he speaks again “I dunno, I'm pretty fucking busy.”

his voice goes straight to your dick, you run your thumb over the sensitive head and then over the slit lightly to make yourself shudder, a soft whine forces its way out of your throat. “What was that? y/n?” Crane's voice cuts back into the silence and you come to the horrifying realization that you had the button pressed, he heard you whine. you cough and press the button again “y- yeah… yeah I'm fine” you curse your voice for being so shaky.

“alright, im coming” He’s totally not convinced, your heart thuds against your ribcage, and your belly tingles at the thought of Crane coming over and seeing you like this. would he laugh? would your body gross him out? would he pin you to the wall and fuck your brains out? your cock throbs as your anxiety-ridden thoughts take on a hornier tone. your fingers slip down your shaft to caress your aching “Kyle” it comes out more as a moan, your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your chest.

You're being so stupid, when have you ever been this risky? the channel stays quiet for a long moment, the static feels deafening and you start to clam up, anxiety taking over but before you could start groveling the static cuts out and you can hear Crane clear his throat “That was so fucking hot.” your breath catches in your throat and your cock throbs hard, pre dribbling out over the head of your needy cock.

Before your nerves settle in you press the button on your earpiece and blurt out where you were, “hurry” you add meekly. Crane takes just long enough to arrive that you're already cringing at how you were acting but he drops down from the hatch on the roof faster than you can get your pants back up, you don't have time to react before he's crowding you into the counter and thumbing at your wet slit, you choke out a surprised moan and cant your hips up into his hand. Kyle doesn't give you enough time to think about hygiene or get anxious before his hand circles your touch-starved dick to give a firm stroke, you shudder and groan and he chuckles breathlessly at how desperate you are.

“We gotta be quick, okay?’ he whispers darkly against your lips, his hand tightens around your throbbing shaft and he strokes faster, the feeling of his warm palm nearly making your knees buckle. Your arms fly up to wrap around his shoulders tightly, your knees wobble as he beats your cock mercilessly, never letting you catch your breath and after an embarrassingly short time you’re body tenses with the best orgasm you've had in forever.

[the-fandom-therapist]

(YEP I'M ALREADY DONE, WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO

As promised, I'm tagging you @ultimateplaylistmaker x) Hope you will enjoy it!

This is my interpretation of their "alicorn Kokichi AU" check it out everyone it's awesome!

It's crack taken seriously btw, I put way too many details and changes, I hope you'll still like it!

Also apologies if anyone is OOC, I never wrote about MLP before x)

That's the first part, mainly Kokichi's, I'll write more about the others! -I stopped because Tumblr was struggling to show all of it lmao, I think I've reach the characters limit-

Death is a bitch.

Wait, no. Death is a dude. Well, bastard then.

The terms of their deal were SIMPLE! He beats the god -at poker you morons, he's not stupid enough to challenge the Grim Reaper at chess, one of the oldest games in history, and apparently one of its personal favorites- and him and all the other idiots from the killing game get brought back to life.

(No he's not attached to any of them. Absolutely not. He just added them so he wouldn't get killed again straight away by that damn assassin. Because without the space idiot to restrain her, she would have gone to kill him again. Anyway, not the point.)

And he fucking did, yes sir! Outsmarted the god of death himself, the grim reaper in person! He's amazing like that. Don't try to fuck with a Supreme Leader of Evil!

Anyway. Point is, he won. He tricked the god of death himself to fold on his turn by pure bluff.

And that was the condition: if he could trick death itself to fold, to give up while he had nothing, then it could recognize his value. Apparently, Death -or Thanatos if he remembers correctly- likes bold humans, so it -he?- have no problem make an exception from time to time. Under conditions obviously.

He didn't had many humans who tried. So every attempts was a welcomed change from the -apparently- frankly boring existence he had.

Hey, he wasn't about to complain, it helped here.

He grabbed his scarf -how the hell did he had it with him when he died without it, no clue, but again let's not look a gift horse in the mouth shall we?- and thought of his team. He'll see them soon.

He was already starting to feel weird. Like he was being sucked out of his own... body? Probably Death doing his thing.

However, right before things turned to black, he could have sworn he heard a "wait shit-" and saw a panicked expression on the god's face.

Huh. Wonder what that means...

~0o0~

The first thing he registered was the smell.

A foul smell, and one he knew well, considering he'd not always been hanging with DICE in the most sanitary places.

Garbage. his mind helpfully provided.

Wow, fuck you too Death. Really, too much honor!

He scoffed, and started to get up wobbly. Waking up from dying was... weird. His head was killing him -ah!- same for his sides.

When he tried to get up from the ground, he barely made one step before falling back on all four. And...

Wait a second.

WAIT. A. SECOND.

That's not a hand. That's a damn hoof! What the hell?

A quick check up confirmed that yup. He's a horse now. Everything's fine.

Oh and he have wings too. Because why not.

What the hell did Death do?! Wait. Didn't he acted surprised before he passed out?

...Did the god of fucking DEATH made a mistake?

How do you even fuck up that badly? He's human for fuck's sake! Now he's a horse?! (Well technically a pegasus he guesses.)

Alright. Focus Kokichi. Freak out later. Right now you need to know where in the world you are.

At least he still have his scarf. Which... thank god (clearly not Death.) it helps a bit to have something familiar.

Alright. Now that he more or less put himself back under control, he needed to exit that damn alleyway... He could already feel a headache. Gre-

Hold up. There something on his head too.

Great, now what?

...That felt like a... horn or some sort.

What, so he's both a fucking unicorn and a pegasus now? That's a thing?

Does Death have fursonas or...? Actually, that could be an interesting question.

But that's not the time for this.

Right now he needed to hide. He heard voices, and even though he couldn't understand the fuck they were saying -great, he wasn't even in Japan? That wasn't a language he recognized either.- he could hear the dangerous tone they had.

So that's what he did! He bolted under a pile of trash, not caring about the smell. And he saw...

...Are those supposed to be horses too? They... looked like a mix of horse and bugs.

Not thinking of the Insect Meet and Greet. Bad idea. Not thinking of Gonta's execution either. Nope. Not doing that.

They were all black, green big buggy-like eyes and wings... Were those fangs? Yikes. He definitely doesn't want to be seen by them... And they have holes in them? Shouldn't that hurt?

They were speaking. Something he couldn't understand... But they weren't alone.

There were actual horses with them! But wait.

They were clearly prisoners. Uh oh.

Welp, seems he was right to hide! One point for him. But something was a bit weird too.

Some had horns. Some had wings, and some had neither. But none had both, asides from these... insects-horses bad guys.

Alright.

Clearly he's not in Japan (or on Earth at all) and this place is populate with sentients horses. Or ponies, who cares.

They don't seem to be able to have both a horn and wings. Only these creepy bug-horses seem to. And they don't look friendly.

If he want to fit in, he'll need to hide either the wings or the horn. He doesn't want to end up in jail before he can figure a way to go back to his own world.

...The horn would probably be the easiest to hide. He'll just need to lie about why he have something on his head that looks like one.

Easy peasy. He can do this. Hell, he tricked the god of death, he can trick a few horses!

...He'll just need to learn the language. Great.

Also, he needed to find a way to avoid those creepy bug-horses guys. Something tells him that looking like one of their prisoners wouldn't help him there.

But first thing first: find a way to hide that horn. He suppose it's a small mercy that he got thrust in a dumpster. It's easy to find what you want, as long as you know how to look.

Two minutes later he found some sturdy papers and got to work. With hooves it wasn't easy, but he had all the time in the world.

~0o0~

...He's pretty sure he passed a good hour on it. But it was done! It was clearly not in the best condition, but at least it hid the horn efficiently -it was a hassle to put the rubber band around something on his head with hooves, but he did it. It wouldn't do to have his cover getting blown away by the wind!- and would stay in place.

While he was working, he kept hearing some words in particular. They sounded like names?

And it thankfully made him learn that even if he couldn't understand what the FUCK those bug-horses were saying, he could at least understand the normal ponies. (Probably because he's one too.) Phew.

"Celestia" "Cadence" "Chrysalis" were the words he kept hearing in those creepy guys' language. Also there was the same word in front of the first two names, the third one had another word.

Considering the normal horses were calling the first two "princess", he could understand Chrysalis was probably the leader of those bug-horses.

Sounds like girl's names either way, so if the first two were princesses, the last one must be a queen, and probably an enemy if what he was seeing was any indication.

Anyway, that wasn't important. What was, was to find a way to avoid these... bug-horses things. (He's pretty sure he heard the horses -or ponies they were rather small- call them something like "Changelings"? Whatever that means.)

However, when he thought about that, he had an odd feeling. It was like his body was telling him "big thing's coming towards us captain!" And when he went to -discreetly duh- check, he was greeted with a white light which was sweeping those Changelings and send them flying far away from here, leaving the horses alone.

...Well damn. He suppose he didn't had to worry about those now. That's one thing taken cared of.

Now he could use that diversion to get the hell away from here! It was a good time to learn if he could run like this.

Running... to somewhere. Away from this place at least. It have a big castle nearby, and he's going to bet there's a ruler in there. Probably those princesses. And he does NOT want to be near the persons -or horses in that case- that can put him to jail.

Next, he need to find a way to get something to eat. Because he's plently good at picking pockets, but usually he have two human hands for this!

That also leave the problem of figuring the currency... Urgh. All that reasoning hurt his head.

First thing first. Waiting for the night to fall. It's easier to walk in the shadows -even if looked to be a rather light shade of purple- that way. And apparently, there was a wedding going on? Perfect. Everyone will be too busy with that to notice someone hanging around.

Maybe he could steal a few things along the way before buying supplies to perform in the streets and gain more money legally. Because while he doesn't mind stealing, if he get caught he doesn't have his team here to bust him out...

DICE...

Raah, enough self-pity! He have a world to figure out!

With a slap on his face -or rather, a punch...- he started to run forwards. After a few struggles, he was able to run like he didn't learned like, five minutes ago, and he setted off.

~0o0~

The adventage with big cites, was that no matter how odd you may look, nobody will pay enough attention to retain your face. Because why should they? You're just another person passing by.

That's how he successful picked the pockets of a few horses without anyone noticing. Seems like even in this world the riches were dumb! And here he was, worried that with hooves he'd struggle.

He hid his treasure in his scarf. Regrouped the coins in one wallet and-

And holy shit were those gold coins?!

Kokichi knew they looked rich, but he never thought they'd literally carry GOLD on their person like that!

...Something was clearly fishy here. It looked too good to be true.

Aaaaaaaand he was proven right. Goddamnit. Apparently gold didn't had the same value here, if buying only a few pastries costed two or three golden coins!

...He really hoped he could ask the prices directly, because if he have to dicipher any writing he's screwed.

Because apparently, even if he could understand the language, he couldn't read it! Damn it. Back to first grade he goes, having to relearn how to read! Just his luck.

Hmmmm.

Entering a shop and interacting without knowing any of the mannerisms of the ponies would be a bad idea. He was lucky the shops there stayed opened the full night thanks to that wedding (a royal wedding even, damn. One of those princesses?) but if it's to blow his cover, it's stupid.

Maybe he could pretend to be deaf? That could work. He just hope they don't have a sign language here, otherwise he's fucked.

He eyed the shop (it had a jester's hat for a roof. That's clearly the place he needed to go to!) and took a deep breath.

Alright! Time to see if he's as good as an actor as he was when still human!

~0o0~

He pushed the door to be greeted by a cheerful pony behind the counter (he's going to call them ponies because they are seriously smaller than horses, all of them.)

"Welcome, welcome! Are you searching to prank your friends? You are at the right place! We have everything, from fake flowers to- um, boy?"

Well, sorry random pony but he have to pretend he can't hear you. So he just looked at the shelves with a lost expression.

"Um hello?"

Nope.

The cashier was probably puzzled. Eh, sorry. But well, he needs to be safe here!

Once he noticed what he needed, he grabbed the deck of cards -with his teeth, not like he had any other options...- before going to the register. The pony was clearly confused, but he still tried to keep a smile on.

"Ah, found your treasure? It's gonna be two golds!"

Now... Action!

He pretended to be confused for a second. Then he widdened his eyes, before putting a hoof at his ear -that still felt SO weird- and then shook his head.

And thankfully, the cashier seemed to understand, thank fuck.

"Oh! Alright, hold on!"

He went to rumminaged behind the counter and put a paper and a pen. Then he started to doodle two coins, and pointed to the deck of cards.

Alright then! It worked. Phew.

Also, it looked like a gold is really just a golden coin. That's a mystery solved at least. He nodded, before putting the wallet from his scarf, and taking out two coins that he put on the counter.

He got a bag out of this, and his deck of cards.

And a bunch of informations too. Apparently ponies are way less ableists than humans! That guy literally went "alright please wait" when he pretended to be deaf.

He grinned. Oh he's going to abuse of it so much.

Now though, he had a stand to settle... But later.

He's tired, and he's been there for a long time. The day was even not so long away from rising, so he thinks he should settle for the night.

Since he can keep the deaf act, he could probably find a room. Probably. If not, he'll just find a dark corner and sleep there. Not the first time he slept outside after all!

~0o0~

Finding a room was easy. So yay for him!

Falling asleep on the other hand, was not.

Let's put asides the few attempts he had to do to find a comfortable position as a pony to lay into okay. Their bed weren't different from humans, and it wasn't that hard.

However, sleep meant nightmares for him.

Really, that was expected. He struggled enough to sleep on a daily basis -what do you know, killing games are bad for your mental health! Shocker. Who would have guessed- so with the whole mess that happened with his death, that was even worse.

Everytime he closed his eyes, it's to reopen them in the hangar. And while being human again would be great, reviving his own death isn't synonym of good dreams.

He gave up sleeping after three times waking up in cold sweat. But hey, apparently that was enough sleep so the sun that was starting to rise was already really high! So midday, or later then that.

He payed for the room and left. Now, to find a place far enough from that town...

~0o0~

He travelled by night, slept in the day, and gathered as much informations as possible.

Apparently the kingdom as a whole was called Equestria -damn really no inspiration uh- and that Celestia princess was ruling over it in the big castle he saw at Canterlot (the capital then) with her little sister Luna. Both responsible for the sun and moon respectively.

Okay so appareltly the celestial bodies aren't moving without help here. All the work of magic. Even the weather was controlled by pegasi.

Actually, maybe he can try to learn how to fly while he's at it, that'd be fun. It's not because he's stuck here -preferably temporary, looking at you Death!- that he can't have a bit of fun while he's at it.

He wonders if that include the others too.

Wait shit.

The others.

They are going to have his head if they learned they'd be brought back as fucking ponies because of him. (In his defense he never wanted that, it's Death's fault!)

But to avoid suspicion on himself, he'd had to also cover their asses. Great. Let's see.

He'll just explain -once he settled somewhere- that him and a group of others were kept prisoners by those Changelings. And when they attacked Canterlot, they brought him and the others with them, to use as hostages if they get caught before they could carry out their plan.

They'd been raised by them, away from ponies since they were toddlers so they don't even have "pony names" (he realized the names here were fucking cheesy, nothing like Japanese names) and now they're just completely lost. And if the others were talking about things that didn't made sense, it was for that reason.

Yup, sounds good! With a few fake tears it'll do the trick perfectly. Now, he just need to find an isolated place to settle.

Also maybe picking a name along the way too. That'd be a good idea to blend in.

Oh wait, does he have to pick one for the others too? He hope not.

Anyway, for now he needed to concentrate on himself first.

~0o0~

...He'd made a HUGE mistake.

He was -apparently, if the ponies' words were to believe- close to a little town called Ponyville (do they really have no inspiration for the names? Come on guys!) so he had decided to shift his sleeping schedule to actual night since he was pretty close.

"Not like that would change much about my dreams" he thought.

Ah! He couldn't have been more wrong.

The nightmare started the same. The usual deaths, and executions, before his-

But when the press was about to come down, he felt something... different.

Pure white energy -that he could recognize as magic now- completely wipe out the hangar out of existence.

Now he was just... In uh... Space? The spaceman'd be thrilled.

He was on a path made of light blue light and white dots... The same thing that was everywhere.

There were doors too, the hell?

"Whomst in Equestria's name art thou?!"

Uh oh.

He turned around -he's so damn glad that in dreams he's human...- and is greeted by-

Wait what?

That's a dark blue mare -definitely taller than most ponies- with... weird space floaty mane.

But the most important thing is that she had both a horn and wings!

How is that possible? He thought only those Changelings guys could-

Wait.

Waaaaaait a minute.

She had what looked to be a crown. And she had a moon... tattoo? On her flank.

Is that the fucking princess of the moon? What is SHE doing here?! Also, how is that possible that she also got both wings and horn-

Oh. Oh no.

That's a fucking status isn't it? Having both. Normal ponies either have one of the two, or neither. Having both must mean being royalty.

...Yeah no. He's keeping that horn HIDDEN. He want to be able to leave this world, not being bond here by duties!

(Besides, the only people he want to lead are his minions. No one else.)

No wonder ponies were looking at him weird! That's like pretending to be royalty!

Let's hope it's not a crime... Wait, if it was he would have been arrested already.

Fuck.

"Answer us!"

Oh whoops. He forgot the princess was still here.

"Gotta go, bu-bye!"

He needs to wake up. He have to. He can't stay here. He have to!

He doesn't know how, he doesn't why, but he successfully woke up after everything around him turned purple.

Now. Now let's think.

He needed to avoid getting the attention of the princess. Considering she didn't intervene until now, he assume that it's because she's only walking in dreams in the night -make sense for the moon princess to be up in the night.

So... He need to keep the noctural schedule. Sleeping in the day, to avoid her. And if he can't, then he need to keep her at bay.

But considering he doesn't know how to use magic, he's going to focus on the first option.

To be able to use magic, he needs training. And to train, he needs books -no way in hell he's asking for help after learning all that mess about royalty- and to be able to understand those books he need to learn how to read.

A hell of a program he have in front of him. Oh well, at least it's gonna keep him busy.

Alright. He needed to go now.

To that town he goes! While expecting to not draw attention.

~0o0~

He arrived at the border of it. There was a rather small and cozy looking cottage here, surrounded by forest. It was midday, the pony probably wasn't hom-

His thoughts were cut off by a high-pitched scream. Probably a girl's voice.

...Great, what now? A scene like this would be hard to settle-

...

There was a yellow pegasus. Pink mane, who was protecting herself (assuming she was the one who screamed) from a bulky earth pony (that's how those who have no wings nor horn were called right?)

The earth pony was really tall, like, two heads more than Kokichi himself. Light green color, dark green tangled mane...

Wait a minute. WAIT A DAMN FUCKING MINUTE.

Red eyes with round glasses, and a bug cage warped around its neck.

It's-

"Gonta so sorry! Gonta not meant to scare horse!"

"GONTA!"

Wow, go him. Yelling his name like that and sprinting in their direction.

That at least got both of their attention. So there's that.

Gokuhara was looking at him with pure confusion. Probably didn't recognized him, which was fair. He was a fucking pony for fuck's sake.

"Uh? Does Gonta know you, horse? Gonta sorry, doesn't know horse with wings..."

"Geez, thanks a lot. he huffed. Can't recognize your leader? So mean! How could you forget about me? he started to sniffled. You're breaking my heart! How could you?!"

The theatrics were apparently enough.

"K-Kokichi?"

"At last! he said, raising a hoof. That's me alright."

"Kokichi is a horse."

"Pony technically, pegasus to be more exact. And you're one too."

"But Gonta die-"

"About that! he cut him off. We need to talk in private. Bu-bye yellow pegasus, sorry for the scare!"

He grabbed Gonta's bug cage's strap and pulled to make the other follow him in a recluse place.

Once far enough, he sighed.

"Alright, just hear me out. I know you're confused as hell, me too. Maybe even mad at me about what happened in the game, I won't blame you for that. But we have other things to worry about: we're not in our world, I think you noticed as much."

"People are horses." nodded Gonta with a serious expression.

"They call themselves ponies, but yeah. There's no human here. There's no killing game either. Monokuma doesn't exist. The Academy either. This world... is more or less peaceful."

"No killing game? he softly asked. No Monokuma?"

"Nope. Nothing. And... Considering we're both here, I'd say everyone who died is also here. Though to find them is going to be complicated..."

The leader pondered for a second. How could they find everyone? It would be best if everyone wasn't far away from each other, if Death comes back for them -and he better!- it'd be quicker to be send back.

"Kokichi died?"

Oh wait. Oops. Right, he forgot Gonta wouldn't know.

"Yup! Right after you in fact. Anyway, not the point-"

"Did Monokuma also punished Kokichi?"

Uh? Why is he asking that?

Oh.

Everyone... Please stop blaming Kokichi now.

...He's still too kind.

"Nope. Maki killed me. he paused. Or rather Kaito. Eh, one of the two. I don't know what finished me off. he shook his hoof. Anyway, not the point. I died, and Kaito also died probably because he was sick. Meaning, everyone who died before you, plus Kaito and myself are probably here."

"E-Everyone?"

"Yup. But we need to recognize them -wouldn't be too hard probably...- and find a cover story."

"Cover story?"

"This world doesn't have a killing game Gonta. That means, if we tell them what happened to us, they won't understand, and that'll bring us problems."

"Oh. Gonta understand. But Gonta doesn't want to lie to them... They look nice."

"Good thing I'm here! Leave the lying part to me. I'm a liar after all! Also we need new names. Because names here aren't like ours. If we want to blend in... Just leave it to me okay?"

The giant just nodded.

The leader just nodded back, before returning to the cottage. Let's hope she's still here and uh... Not freaking out.

~0o0~

...Uh oh.

She called her friends apparently. There were five new ponies all around her. Two unicorns, another pegasus and two earth ponies.

"Hey you two! How dare you scare Fluttershy like that!" yelled the blue pegasus.

"Ah! Gonta sorry! Gonta didn't meant to scare pony!"

Well, here goes the enthomologist, apologizing again. But Kokichi's not going to play that card. He put a hoof in front of the giant and frowned.

"Don't apologize, we don't know if they aren't with them!"

Cue confusion. That's what he want to see!

"W-With them?"

"You know how they are! They can change appearance at will and pretend they're your friend!"

Not a lie. The mastermind was -if what Death told him was true- a master of disguise. The Ultimate Cosplayer after all. And the ponies would probably think of the changelings, which is what he wants.

"Hey! Are you saying we're changelings!"

"And what if I am uh? he grinned. Don't like having the truth in your face?"

"H-Hey now."

Oh? The purple unicorn stopped the blue pegasus. Seems like he found the leader of that little group.

"We aren't changelings. We swear on Celestia's name!"

"And how can we believe you uh? You could be lying!"

There. That was the cue for Gonta normally...

"They don't smell like changelings..." he mumbled.

"You should listen to your friend! We're not changelings! We fought them!"

Now, to pretend to be hesitant.

"Are you sure?" he asked the enthomologist.

Gonta nodded, and he pretended to scratch his head -while leaving the papers around his horn alone- with confusion.

"I think we all started on the wrong hoof. gently said the purple one. You are at Ponyville, you're safe! There's no changelings here."

"Why did you thought there were some in the first place? Changelings don't live here. We kicked their butts not so long ago!"

"Rainbow Dash! You're not helping. she smiled at them. Sorry about my friend, she's very straightforwards. How about we talk somewhere else, around pastries?"

"Oh oh! the pink one started to jump happily. I'll go prepare them! I'll be right back!"

And she left... by jumping? Why not.

Alright.

Time to bluff the hell out of this conversation.

~0o0~

...It had been stupidly easy. He explained to them that Gonta and him were part of a group of ponies who got abducted when they were toddlers by changelings, got raised by them, humiliated, turned around each other et cetera... Got brought along at the assault on Canterlot, and since the white energy who yeeted the changelings didn't hurt them, they ended up here, and don't know what to do or where to go.

That's how he learned that the wedding that took place was the purple one's (Twilight Sparkle apparently. Still cheesy, yup.) brother's, and they were here, and were also fighting the changelings.

And apparently that wave of magic was from the love between the bride and groom.

Ew. They didn't ended up at Equestria, they ended up at "Cheesy Land". But he still noted the information.

When they asked about why the hell he got a fake horn, he explained that it was to be less beaten by changeling. After all, they have both horn and wings, so he thought if he looked like them they would leave him alone. Not that it worked. -The fact that it was curved helped his story. But come to think of it why is his curved and not everyone else's? Not even the princesses' are curved. Weird.) Now though he just keep it because it's the symbol of the princesses and that's pretty cool! After all it was one of them that indirectly freed him and the others from the changelings' grasp. He's pretending to be like them! (they had no idea how true that statement was.)

That was way too easy to make them believe that with fake tears. Even Gonta tried to comfort him even though he knew it was fake (though it was probably to make it more believable. Gonta is a lot of things, but an idiot isn't one of them.)

"But then... You don't have names?" asked the other unicorn -Rarity if he remembers correctly.

"We have the ones the changelings gave us. he said, wiping the tears with his hoof. Mine's Kokichi Oma. he pointed to Gonta. His is Gonta Gokuhara. But those aren't real ponies' names."

"That's true..." Twilight seemed thoughtful.

"Oh oh! Maybe we can pick some for you!" the pink one said, with a smile that reminded him a bit too much of Angie.

"...I'd prefer choosing my own thanks."

"Of course! Pinkie, let them chose... Once it's done, we'll ask the mayor to put you in the records." Twilight said.

"That'd be nice. Also... If you find someone with a weird name, that's probably a friend of ours."

Not really true, but he needed to find those idiots as quickly as possible.

"I'll pass the word at Clousdale!"

Aaaaaand the blue one was already gone.

"I'll ask around the farm if anyone saw a lost pony." the orange one nodded, tipped her hat and left.

"I'll send a letter at Princess Celestia too. the purple unicorn nodded towards the... dragon? at her side. In the meantime, do you have ideas of names? Also, what are your talents?"

Talents? That's easy- oh wait.

"What do you mean by talent?" he asked, raising a hoof to stop Gonta from talking.

Translation: is that the same thing as their Ultimates?

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose the changelings wouldn't do that... she mumbled to herself. Something you are really good at? You both have your cutie marks so..."

What the fuck is that now. (Also, cheesy, the return.)

"Oh! Gonta is an enthomologist!"

He saw Fluttershy -that's her name right?- perking up from behind Rarity.

"Oh that's great! she turned towards him. And you?"

"I guess you can call me a trickster. he smirked. I prank people. And trick them. a pause. Mainly changelings though."

A lie but hey.

"If Gonta's talent is "Enthomology" you could call mine "tricky dice"." he shrugged.

But that question of names... He needed to find one. And Gonta too.

"Hey Gonta, how about "Baron Buzz" for you? Sounds good?"

"Oh! Gonta not mind this. Gonta likes it!"

"Well, that's settled then. Mine now..."

He think again.

Let's see their situation.

He got attributs that could get him royal duties, which is problematic. He needs to hide it...

He made a deal with Death and no one need to know about that. To get everyone back to life, but also to fuck with miss mastermind too while he's at it.

He grinned.

"Call me Royal Collusion then!"

That's when both Rainbow Dash and the farmer came back.

"I found a pegasus that looks really lost, and he calls himself Kaito... something."

"I found a small guy that call himself Ryoma!" added the other.

Oh. Well that was quick.

"They're with us alright. You're coming Gonta? Let's get Ryoma back first."

"Hm hm!"

First they get the depressed tennis player back, then the astridiot.

Welp, they got a pretty nice program ahead of them it seemed.

"Then let's go."

[forevfangirlwrites]

for hthf: percabeth reuniting earlier in their relationship after her being gone filming for a while!

Nothing like dating a girl for a month and a half only to have her leave to a foreign country for three weeks. (And for those of you keeping count that’s practically the same amount of time he’s been dating her…kinda…you get the point).

But he doesn’t complain because how could anyone complain when they’re dating the Annabeth Chase. And also he doesn’t really have a right to complain because though they’ve been exclusively dating she’s not officially his girlfriend or anything.

Which leads him into a weird place of not knowing how to act. Does he text her more since they’re not seeing each other, should he call? Or would that just get in her way because she’s busy with work and who is he to interrupt that?

Obviously, he misses her. He’s pretty sure he started missing her the day she came up to his counter and told him with a sad pout that she had to leave in a week for Sweden or something and she wouldn’t be back for about 3 weeks.

They’d tried to make the most out of the week they had, managing to make a second trip to Disney in the early morning again, but then she was off and he’s left staring desolately at his phone.

Not to say that they don’t text, they do, here and there throughout the day, but when she was here that texting was usually supplemented by an in-person appearance.

The door rings and he pockets his silent phone to greet the customer.

“Hi, welcome to Cali’s, what can I get started for you?”

“I think you forgot the smiling part of customer service,” Jason responds, and Percy looks up in surprise.

“Sorry,” he replies automatically. “You don’t normally stop by on Tuesdays.”

“Should I be honored or creeped out that you know my schedule?”

Percy rolls his eyes. “Sorry Mr. Grace but I do that with all of my regulars.”

Jason chuckles. “So I’m not special then?”

Smiling, Percy replies. “You said it not me, the usual?”

Jason leans back leisurely, no one else is in the café so he really can take all the time he needs.

“I see what you did there, well played Percy. And no, I think I’ll try something new today.”

A day full of surprises, Percy nods. “Alright, what are you thinking?”

Jason turns from the menu back to him. “Maybe I’ll try the caramel macchiato, see what Annabeth likes about them so much.”

The mention of her name is a pang to his heart. It’s only been a week and a half since she left but he’s now realizing just how often he used to get the chance of seeing her, even if it was brief, and how good that felt.

“You forgot the smile again. Is your customer service slipping or is it cause I said Annabeth?”

He turns to Jason with a frown. Clearly the man knows what he’s doing.

Jason smiles. “Sorry, I know she’s on a shoot in Europe. But I thought things were going well?”

Is it a little embarrassing that Jason Grace is commenting on his love life? Maybe. But it looks like he means what he said genuinely. (Because at this point Percy is pretty good at picking up on when Jason is trying to tease him).

(And that definitely needs two footnotes in the memoir).

“They are,” he mumbles, punching in the caramel macchiato order on the machine. “Just sucks I can’t see her. Anyway, your total is $7.13.”

“Well maybe call her or something if you miss her,” Jason says as he taps his card.

“Are you kidding? I can’t interrupt her work,” Percy replies, turning around to make the drink.

He sees Jason shrug out of the corner of his eye. “You could just ask her before calling but hey I’m just the guy trying to get coffee and non-frowny customer service.”

“I’m not frowning,” Percy replies with a frown.

KEEP READING ON AO3

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! It was a lot of fun writing them early relationship again and I hope you liked how it turned out! Thank you again!

[betterillusionist]

Cyrus Drake's Laundry

Victor Darkwood's Apparel Barrel is a store that Nolan is very familiar with. So familiar that all he has to do is walk in and Victor knows exactly why he's there, no words needing to be exchanged.

It's late into the day when Nolan walks out of the store with a large white sack balanced carefully on his shoulder. Even though he's been doing this routine since he started his studies at Ravenwood, his shoulder still aches under the sack's weight. At least he can carry the sack all the way to the Myth School now, instead of needing to drop and drag it half way there.

The streets are pretty much empty at this point, classes over and students either home with their families or resting in their dorms getting right to their homework. There's no one around to give him judgemental stares or question his own important work. None of them understand that transporting Professor Drake's laundry to and from the Apparel Barrel is a quest given only to his most favorite student. Not just anyone can handle such a task. He ensures that the Professor's many yellow robes arrive at their destinations in perfect condition each and every day. Most students would get lazy and botch the job, but not Nolan. Just as slacking on a spell will result in something going awry, mishandling Professor Drake's laundry leads to nothing but unnecessary trouble.

The other Myth students wish they could be given the honor of transporting the Professor's laundry. Maybe if they didn't complain so much about the lessons and the homework, one of them would have Nolan's esteemed job instead. But he's been doing this for almost three years now; his position is secure.

He thrusts the door to the Myth School open and steps inside with a flourish of his cape, smiling proudly as he arrives at his final destination. His Professor, Cyrus Drake, sits behind his desk all alone, scribbling away with ink and quill on some piece of paper. He glances upwards at the student disturbing his work with his trademark scowl.

"You're late," the Professor states.

Nolan hesitates for a brief moment, Cyrus' stare boring into him like a pair of lasers, chasing away all his pride in an instant. When the moment passes, he sets the sack of laundry down in its usual corner with a pang of shame in his heart. Apologizing is worthless, for the Professor would only chastise him further. He just has to suck it up and do better next time.

"By how much?" Nolan asks instead.

"Hm..." Cyrus turns to an hour glass sitting on his desk, the sand in motion yet frozen in time. He studies the hanging sand, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully. When he leans away from the sand, he replies, "Long enough to be late. You're dismissed, Nolan." And he turns back to whatever he had been doing before Nolan arrived.

With a nod, Nolan strides out of the Myth School, his mind already working. He wasn't going any faster or slower than the last couple of days, and yet he's not really gotten any faster with his deliveries. Not without jogging or running at full sprint, but that's not really like him to do. He has to pick up the pace, get a consistent time down. Faster is always better, right? At least, that seems to be what Professor Drake always wants out of him. Speed and finesse. Just like with-

So lost in his own thoughts, Nolan winds up running into another student. The two crash together for a few seconds before stumbling away, a book smacking Nolan square on his nose.

"Hey, watch where you're going next time!" he irritably demands of the klutz as he massages his aching nose.

A panicked-looking Malorn furrows his brow with concern. "Ah, sorry, Nolan. Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm not!" Nolan replies, puffing out his chest and pointing a finger at the Necromancer. "You're lucky you didn't break my nose."

Malorn looks down at the book still held between his hands; it's open but he closes it fairly quickly and releases a shameful huff. "I knew I shouldn't have been reading..."

"Duh," Nolan comments, rolling his eyes.

"You weren't paying any attention, either," Malorn now defends himself.

"I was just thinking," Nolan replies. "You were obstructing your own view."

"Doesn't change the fact you had more ability to step aside."

Hmph, Nolan thinks, folding his arms defiantly. Leave it to the Necromancer to pin everything on him. He was thinking of things far more important than paying attention to who's in his way.

After a moment of awkward silence, neither student willing to move first, Malorn asks, "Cyrus upset again?"

"Pff, he always sounds like that," Nolan replies. "I was just a few seconds late today."

"A few seconds?" Malorn echoes with a frown.

"He cares for punctuality."

"You're still running his laundry?"

"It's important to my studies!" Nolan asserts. Malorn shakes his head with a look of sympathy that he doesn't need. He'll never understand the importance of Nolan's task. Not in a million years.

"If it's so important, why are you still walking back and forth yourself?" the Necromancer inquires.

"Because I have to," Nolan answers.

"But if you keep walking back and forth, you're not really improving any of your spellwork. Just your physical strength. Unless... that's what you're supposed to be getting out of it."

Nolan purses his lips. He never thought about it like that before. His boots have certainly been wearing out a lot faster than they should, and his morning aches have always been extremely unpleasant. When he was assigned the task of laundry transportation, he had to do it himself because he had no spells to his name. But now he certainly has a small selection to choose from to do this sort of thing for him.

He lets slip a prideful grin at his genius idea. Yes, using magic will save him a whole lot of time and trouble. He can finally be at home at a regular time and not need to worry about running the laundry route ever again!

"Step aside, Malorn," Nolan declares with a grand sweep of his hand. "I have training to do tonight!"

With a thin grin, the Necromancer at last moves out of the way. Nolan breaks into a full sprint, eager to get home and start his work. He'll have to see which of his spells will work the best, and then he'll have to teach it his route.

Yes, yes, there's much for him to do tonight. Won't Professor Drake be pleased?