#and look she does can touch many parts of apple at once~

[literallys-illiteracy]

Trans Allegories in Lobotomy Corporation

Part 0.5 in a series that i'm making going over the archetypes, themes, and interpretable meanings of all the abnormalities in this game, before the next, and then finally in Limbus.

Cut is for further explainations

First Tier: Trans Allegory 100%

It is important to note that there is no strict defining line on what a trans allegory is, which I also have a project working on to describe my theory, but in the Scaffold one could theoretically understand the structure that I have.

Snow Queen:

The power of love overcoming that of cold, stagnating, uncaring evil in order to help one re-find themselves. The snow queen herself does not represent that of the allegory, it is rather Kai (Kay) and Gerda's story from the original tale that can represent this, however interlinked all the same to the queen.

King Of Greed:

Part 1, the work line:

"When The King of Greed assumes the form of an egg, you can faintly see a smiling girl inside it."

alongside the fact that her title is "king", a traditionally masculine rank.

Part 2, the actual thematic:

The concept of "greed" in this abnormality is not truly one that is borne of what one would traditionally think, rather than the desire to take for the sake of taking, it is the concept that the root of happiness is desire, and at the root of all desires is an insatiable greed within.

While desires many will go unfulfilled, they will always be the root of ones happiness, and will always remain in ones subconscious.

Snow Whites Apple:

Snow whites apple is one of being discarded and abandoned, hoping to rot (similar to another teleporting, hallway damaging, plant based Waw in this same tier), who, after time passed, realised that the life she had seen come to fruition for Snow White was not the life that would come forth for her, so she leaves to go on her own journey, to find herself.

The apple, realising that the life they had once thought was not for them, sprouted forth, grew, and became a princess in search of a story.

Nothing There:

Egg.

Beauty and the Beast:

Change, death, a life trapped in a body that is not *you*, an endless cycle that all parties wish to part from.

Today's Shy Look:

someone in a discord server noted that this abnormality is a parallel to neurodivergence, especially ASD. Unfortunately i beat them to that analysis a few months ago.

The themes of identity, denial, and divergence all carry over to themes of trans nature, however that is not to say that Shy Look is intended to be one, it is almost certainly intended to be that of ASD.

That being said, kill the author with your own bare hands, the autonomous psyche that exists in humanities collective contains these archetypes of identity and denial, and integrally they are linked to these conscious perceptions we have of them — Inseparably these ideals are linked to conscious perceptions, though borne from the unconscious mind, and forth from this there is no way to remove change from identity, to remove denial from the 'self', to differentiate one's societal differences and strife to that of another. We are all human, we all share in this human collective, these unconscious symbols are not defined by a singular perspective, interpret things as you wish. If you disagree with my analyses, by all means, slay me by your own hands; forthcoming the 'Death of the Author' is the 'Birth of the Reader'.

Alriune:

Doll wished to be human, abandoned to the wayside, finding their own goals shattered.

Though Alriune may be interpereted very strongly as a trans allegory, which i also have a different (netzach) project related to, that is once again to the visceral humanity of these abnormalities, which i plan to touch on at a later date if a certain mutual doesn't beat me to it.

Funeral of Dead Butterflies:

Whom also has their own post on this topic. which is another 'death of the author' tangent for you to read on i guess.

The Funeral of Dead Butterflies' thematic is that of death, and hence that of rebirth, of life.

This concept is best demonstrated through a quote from Demian:

“The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.”

Herman Hesse, Demain

However, i also have a topic essay separated from PM somewhat regarding the nature of death as an allegory, alongside an additional essay named "Transing Death".

Notes of a Crazed Researcher:

"The final chapter ends with the phrase: “Born again.” "

Notes of a Crazed Researcher, observation level 4.

We Can Change Anything:

Don’t like how you look? Are you too fat? Too skinny? We can change that!

We Can Change Anything, Observation level 3.

Being somewhat more serious, with both the notes and this tool, though not integrally linked to that of these allegories, they are both understandably interpretable as this with reasonable argument to support them.

Tier 2: Plausible to Write as a Trans Allegory:

Burrowing Heaven:

This abnormality will come back later. Keep an eye on this one for a moment until then, hold on.

So Burrowing Heaven's gimmick is that of attention, wings, and eyesight.

It's descendant from the trope of 'gazing upon a god' often present in fictional or extant religions such as in the Lovecraft mythos (which is noted in particular due to the abnormality being described i later depictions as "wings of an elder god").

That being said, this abnormality's concept of "existing within ones perception" is interpretable as that of identity, alongside the line of "I could only bear fruit in your sight", akin to the concept of only flourishing when viewed as what or who you are.

Scorched Girl:

Abandonment, sights of a better future, disregard by society.

This abnormality only gets this lower tier due to its source material's differentiation, rather than seeking a better life for strictly herself, she sees in the fires a world of warmth, of joy. Though hope is a powerful emotion, and one that is linked to desires at a primal root neighbouring the king of greed, it is wrote here in a way that is less linked to that integral theme of identity I seek.

The following three exist in the same vein:

Queen of Hatred, Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary, and Big and Might be Bad Wolf:

All three of these abnormalities share the same virtual story framework, one of managing your identity within a predestined story.

Queen of Hatred defines her existence upon the extant force of evil, though in opposition to it, hence her dual thematic of both love for good, and hatred for evil. Little Red, similarly, is not a being without her antithesis, without the wolf she cannot exist as an individual, without her hatred for the one which haunted her for so long.

The Might be Bad Wolf exists in a barely different stream, though still that of a predestined story, it is rather that of societal fatalism, wherein its nature as a wolf determined its future, the wolf is always the villain of the story, the wolf is meant to hunt.

The wolf is also the most trans-coded out of any of these abnormalities, its nature of being hated due to its nature alone, its lack of decision in the matter, its fate, it "will be" the Big and Bad Wolf.

The former two however share this in many ways, due to the aforementioned predetermined nature of their tale, however in both a meta, and mirrored parallel.

The Hood and Queen both define themselves on another's basis, being unable to exist without the other, leaving themselves as incomplete — In queen's hysteria we can see the repercussions of this unfold, her strands of being still loose she unweaves into a beast, into a creature that she does not *want* to be.

The Hood exists in a slightly different manner once again, as she has found herself in the wolf's hunt, though less so in this unweaved state that the Queen has.

Warm hearted Woodsman:

Desires and is denied a heart due to its nature from birth, from its creation.

Do you know what letters heart has? thats right. HRT. I rest my case.

Der Freischutz:

Loss and searching for identity, sacrifice of ones old life in order to create a new one on their own accords.

Red Shoes:

This abnormality is the literal incarnation of desire, so much so that it's EGO is the only one to actually include the word "desire".

The Firebird:

The Russian avian version of Moby Dick essentially, a bird which wishes to be perceived, wishes to be hunted like it once was, in order to regain its glowing feathers.

This bird exists in the same concept of Burrowing Heaven (you can stop keeping an eye on it now), wanted to exist in ones perception, as beautiful as it truly can be.

Plague Doctor/Whitenight:

Both Plague Doctor and Whitenight share both of their placements due to its fucktonne of different plausible interpretations, this one was extant on its own, but furthered by someone named "chaos" in a twitch chat when i first made this list.

This concept is mostly that of change, of becoming your true self, and finding those that know about and accept this self before the advent comes.

This transformation is integrally linked to Whitenight, alongside Plague Doctor, however they will get their time in the spotlight soon enough.

Mirror of Adjustment:

Changing one's self though appearing the same in the mirror, see Limbus Company canto 4 for more details.

Meat Lantern:

Appearance verses reality.

Knight of Despair:

Yet another struggle to find one's identity in a cruel world, a tale as old as time, where the knight's experiences, her cycles of despair, lead to her view of herself, her sough purpose in life, to be naught.

This purpose is then renewed through the protection and guidance of others, similar to mine, like how i attempt to guide others (in both understanding themselves, alongside subconscious themes, and media literacy), the knight attempts to guide others, and protect them from the harm that she could not protect others.

Yin/Yang:

The innate feminine and masculine traits that each holds, alongside their obvious dichotomy and wholeness in unity can be understood as one coming to understand or accept their true identity.

The reason that this is not in a higher tier is because of some psyche stuff that i don't want to get into here but i think i may have wrote about in the past.

[Censored]:

This abnormality is by design an enigma, which is its entire purpose, the concept of a hidden form, of redacted information, of a 'true form'.

Now as the river of humanity I may be a bit biased but i think that this abnormality is the peak form that one could take in a transition i think.

Tier 3: Transphobic:

Forsaken Murderer:

Medical experiments forced upon someone in order to cure an unseen disease of the mind, which removes ones identity and personhood in the process.

The above paragraph is describing what is known as "conversion therapy" which is a fucking horrendous concept that draws parallels to the forsaken murderer's story involving medical experiments forced upon someone in order to cure an unseen disease of the mind, which removes ones identity and personhood in the process.

Whitenight:

This is about people who use religion to justify their hatred of others, about people who make their anger justified through their posited god, who make their disdain, their xenophobia, into a so called 'Divine' wrath.

Plague Doctor:

[...] cure an unseen disease of the mind, which removes ones identity and personhood in the process.

(me, 3 paragraphs ago).

The plague doctor, sharing the concept of Forsaken Murderer, seeks a so called 'Disease of the mind', which culminates in the deaths of many once its mission is seemingly complete.

Bald:

[...] forced upon someone in order to remove [...] which removes ones [Hair] and [Hair] in the process.

[creamecream]

"Smoking cigarettes on the roof,

You look so pretty, and I love this view,

Don't bother looking down, we're not going that way,

At least I know, I am here to stay,

We fell in love in October,

That's why, I love fall,

Looking at the stars, admiring from afar,

(My girl, my girl, my girl)

My girl, my girl, my girl,

You will be my girl, my girl, my girl, my girl,

You will be my girl, my girl, my girl, my girl,

You will be my girl, my girl, my girl, my girl,

You will be my world, my world, my world, my world,

You will be my girl,"

[multific]

In the High of the Feeling

Mattheo Riddle x Cat Animagus!Reader

Warning: smut, tiny blood play, a hint of breeding kink

Summary: Much like for many animals, heat season was right around the corner for you as well.

A/N: This one has a little Omegaverse feel to it. I did try and make it different but there are similarities. Both parties are +18! 

A/N: This can be read as part 2 of this piece.

Being an animagus had its ups and downs.

Your loving and helpful boyfriend, Mattheo was definitely a bonus.

He would help with any difficulties or tried his best to help. No one in the school knew, none of the students beside him at least.

It hadn't been that long since the two of you got together and he realized your secret.

This will be the first spring the two of you will spend together and you were... for a lack of a better word, nervous.

Extremely nervous.

You knew what spring brought.

It brought a new start. Flowers bloom and animals... yeah.

It was rare for an animagus to be so tied to their animalistic side. But you were.

And with spring, came your heat.

A week where you would have the strongest desire to have offsprings.

Ever since you hit puberty, the feeling was there, but lately, as you got older, the feeling got stronger.

And now, that you had a boyfriend, you knew your body and mind will go crazy, you needed to stay away from Mattheo and you needed a way to explain this to him to the best of your ability.

But how do you explain to a horny guy that he needs to stay away from you because for once it will be you who wants to have sex all the time? With the purpose of getting pregnant.

You couldn't let that happen, you were too young.

You understood it was only nature, but still... no.

"Babe? BABE!" the yell made you snap back into reality as you looked at your boyfriend sitting across you by the table. "You have been distracted lately. Do you have another man or something?"

"Nothing like that... it's-"

"Is it a cat-thing?" he asked as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"Actually, yes." you looked around, making sure no one was there to hear you. "Spring is coming." you said with a low voice and he made a face then a sudden realization. You hoped he would understand.

"You are right! More Quidditch!" you wanted to slap him.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you let out a long sigh.

"No." you said not opening your eyes to look at him.

"No? Then what Princess? You have to go home for the break or something?"

"My heat is coming." you said, straight up, since you knew dancing around the subject won't help.

"What's that?" you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.

You shouldn't have expected for him to understand.

"Spring brings new life. Flowers bloom and animals..." his eyes grew big with realization. "Professor McGonaghall said she would give me a potion to keep my... needs at bay but apparently the very flower that you would need blooms after my heat would be over so..."

"I'm too young to be a father." was what he ended up saying.

"So am I. It's nature, unfortunately, I can't do anything with it. I will have the week off, I already spoke with the teachers. I have so many things to do. I just wanted to tell you to please just... for that week stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to control myself and... I wouldn't want to force you."

"First of all, you would never force me. I do understand your point now, but I'm also very curious. Tell me more about it. What happens? Does it hurt? What do you do? Do you touch yourself?" you could see in his eyes he was genuinely interested.

"It hurts, unfortunately, yes. But it's a very different pain from like a wound. I would say it's like a heartbreak and a broken leg at the same time. I always have a little area that I put together so I can stay there. I put soft things... pillows, blankets and- Oh that reminds me, can I borrow a shirt from you? Your scent might help me." he only nodded as he listened, he was more interested than ever. "So, yeah I just... I do touch myself, yes. It helps with the pain. I'm just worried about what might happen this time."

"Why?" he reached out on the table and held your hand in his. "What would happen this time?"

"Well, now I have you. I have a partner and my body knows that. So I'm nervous about what would happen this time."

"I see. I will give you the shirts. Many of them. When does this... heat start?"

"You can't really pinpoint it out, it's like a period but it should be this weekend/next week that it starts." you smiled at him, happy he didn't find it disgusting or anything.

"I will bring you my clothes tomorrow then."

"Thank you." but he didn't know, you thanked him for another reason.

The next morning you woke up with a strange feeling. Your foggy mind didn't even realize what was happening. You found yourself thinking more and more about your boyfriend, more specifically, him naked.

You were thankful that last night you at least build your comfort place on your bed.

Your entire body felt hot and your mind could only think of one thing.

The dirtiest images flashed in your mind.

You only ever slept with Mattheo a couple times, but now it was all you could think about.

How soft his skin was, how you could run your fingers over his scars, letting him know that it was okay.

How he smelled and felt like.

How amazing he made you feel as he just kept rolling his hips with a steady rhythm. 

The images flooded your mind as your imagination ran wild.

You wanted him to ravish you. 

To completely fill you up and have your own litter. 

You were going insane. You let out a soft moan when there was a knock on your door.

"Princess? I brought the shirts I promised." his voice, his nice voice, his intoxicating voice.

You felt your ears and tail pop out, you felt your eyes change.

You were gone. Your most basic instincts took over as you walked to that door and opened it.

He was saying something, you saw his gorgeous lips move. But you were far too gone to hear it.

When he looked at you, confused, you pulled him in and locked the door behind him, you pulled on his hair, kissing him with all you had.

Your cat-like teeth managed to scare his lips as you now tasted a little blood along with the tobacco he always smoked.

Your hands found his tie as you began to take off his clothes one by one.

"Hey, hey, slow down." he said as he pulled back as he laughed a little.

"You have too many layers." you said, not even looking at him as you began to undo his belt. That is when he jumped back, keeping you at arm's length.

"Why are your ears out?" you put your hand on his forearm as his hand was on your shoulder.

"I need you." you said with the most intoxicating voice Mattheo had ever heard. He did hear you say those words before. He did make you say and moan many things but this. this was different.

Your voice was filled with lust.

"Oh shit, this is it right? Your heat. Fuck." Mattheo looked around, he knew, he needed to go. NOW. "I-I have to... go." he said but by the time he finished you were completely nude in front of him. His eyes were glued to your body.

Men are such easy creatures.

"Matty, I need you." you said again as he looked into your eyes. 

"Okay... Okay. I-I have condoms."

"Noooo." you walked over to him, you put your hands around his neck as your mouths were only inches apart. "I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it ooze out."

He grabbed your waist with both hands.

It was all too much for him, he felt himself getting harder by the second.

"I'm so wet Matty, please." he had to gulp, he looked away from you and noticed the arranged pillows on your bed. While he was thinking you took the opportunity to make your final move.

He watched as you walked away from him and towards your bed. With your back to him, you knelt down on the bed and moved to lay down with your ass up in the air. You reached under your body and with two fingers you spread your lips, showing him your wet cunt. Then you moved one finger in and dragged it down, letting out a moan as you touched your clit.

"Please, Mattheo." is all you needed to say as you looked at him with your head on the bed.

He lost.

Thankfully he still had the mind to put on the protection.

"Nooo. No condom." you said but he didn't hear you, his focus was on your pussy. 

He jerked himself twice before grabbing your hips and slowly pulling you back, filling you up.

Just what you have been craving for.

You both let out a long moan as he filled you fully. You were finally a little satisfied, feeling his balls slapping onto your skin as his huge cock filled you up to your stomach.

He started off slow, keeping his focus as he felt your tail wrap around his leg then move up his back.

He needed to have control.

You were in a very vulnerable state. He had to remind himself.

But it seemed almost useless because every time you looked into his eyes, his common sense failed him.

Especially when he felt you beginning to move back onto him with rough movements.

"Fuck." he said as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock. "Shit, Babe." but you were a moaning mess. 

If he was far too gone, you were beyond.

"Wait." he said as he almost came, in his nearing high, he grabbed the base of your tail which made you yelp in surprise. "Sorry." he said, knowing how sensitive it was, he ran his hand up your spine. feeling the curve in which you were laying.

He loved it.

He loved you.

You patiently waited for him to began moving again, and when he did, oh how magnificent it was.

His movements were fast, you were sure his fingers will leave their marks but you didn't care.

All you wanted is to feel him fill you up.

Then he grabbed your hair and pulled back on it a little. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moaning.

His name was all you could say as he groaned and moaned. 

Once again you moved your tail around him as he moved you, laying you down onto your stomach, as he put a pillow under it, raising the place he wanted to reach the most. Your fingers entangled with the sheets as he moved back inside you. His two hands by your side as he continued to ruin your pussy.

"So good." he said. "So fucking good. Look at me." and you obliged, looking at him with your cat-like eyes as he was nearing his end. 

"Matty, I'm close." you said as you started to feel the familiar knot in your belly.

Upon hearing that Mattheo knew he needed to set a pace he can keep so you can cum.

He focused on you and you alone, he moved and kissed your shoulder as he felt you tighten.

"Come for me, Kitten." he whispered into your ear as you came with a loud cry. Or, you would have but he put his hand onto your mouth, he felt your sharp teeth gaze along his fingers but he couldn't care.

You felt so tight, warm and wet.

And feeling you cum around him did the trick.

He came with a small shake and a moan as he emptied himself into the condom. However, his instincts did the trick. After, he made long movements as if he was filling you with his cum. Slow and deliberate movements with his softening cock. 

It felt like heaven.

You finally came to your senses a lot more but when you felt him placing kisses along your spine, you knew he wanted this as much as you did.

You seduced him, but you didn't feel guilty about it. 

It seemed that only for a moment he left you but soon he was laying by your side as he put a blanket over the two of you.

"I could get used to this." he said as you cuddled into his side. "You are so sexy."

"It comes with the heat too, I put off a scent which is attractive for men."

"Nah. It was more than that. You were sexy before. We should have done this earlier, I didn't know you could take it so rough."

"I love you." you said as you closed your eyes, ready for a nap before you need your next round.

"I love you too, Princess. I think I could get used to this. Every year, a week where you cannot keep your hands off of me."

"Two." you said with a very drowsy voice.

"Huh?"

"I have heats twice a year. So, two weeks."

Mattheo looked at the ceiling. 

He knew he will need a lot more condoms, he suspected you will wake up within an hour or so and he needed to be ready.

But he can definitely get used to this.

Twice a year.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[teecupangel]

I had an idea for an Altaïr that accepted Al Mualim’s teachings and became his true successor after he dies, basically keeping Masyaf the same after his death with the apple. What would happen if a reincarnated Desmond just appeared in Masyaf one day? I was thinking of Altdes but like super Yandere Altaïr

You wanna make it all the more morally questionable?

Altaïr finished what Al Mualim failed to do.

He managed to use the Apple to control everyone in Masyaf.

When Desmond is transported into the past, Altaïr had already gotten to Saladin and is slowly getting the men King Richard trusts the most under his command.

Desmond was reborn as a nobody in this land… is what he would like to say.

Unfortunately…

Or maybe fortunately?

He was reborn as Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III, the only son of imam of Alamut.

Meaning he’s 22 years old younger than Altaïr…

He was kept in the harem as a child and it was hard to run away from an entire castle filled with Assassins who knew their little prince liked to run away.

He had only met Altaïr once when he was growing up, being able to take peek even after his father ordered him to stay in his room while the mentor of Masyaf was visiting.

He had been sixteen years old.

And Altaïr looked just as handsome as he remembered.

Their eyes met and there was something in his eyes that made Desmond feel… something.

Something both enticing and… dangerous.

One of the Assassins saw him and escorted him back to his room before his father found out.

The following day, his father asked for him and he had been worried that he learned of Desmond sneaking in last night.

Instead, he ordered Desmond to show Altaïr around Alamut which he agreed easily to.

Altaïr’s stay in Alamut was short and Desmond savored every moment of it. He was a bit different from Desmond’s image of him.

More open in his curiosity of Alamut and…

Of Desmond himself.

He knew that Altaïr already had two sons by now.

But Altaïr laughed when Desmond asked about his wife.

He didn’t have a wife.

Desmond thought he was joking.

So Altaïr explained…

His sons’ mother was not married to him. She did him a ‘favor��. In exchange, he ‘assisted’ her in taking over the Templar Order. It’’s because of their ‘trade’ that Altaïr was able to secure an alliance with the newly reformed Templar Order.

Something was wrong.

Desmond has no idea why the timeline was this skewered. He sure as hell knew it wasn’t him.

It couldn’t be him.

He had been too young when Altaïr became a mentor to do anything even when he wanted to.

So he had to find out what happened to change the ‘past’ this much.

And the fact that he knew that there was something between them, something simmering under the surface with each graze of the back of their hands, of each brief touch on the arm, the shoulder, and back…

There was something between them that Desmond knew he was powerless to stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

So he asked his father if he could stay in Masyaf for a while, be some kind liaison or something.

He had been surprised when his father said yes.

He should have questioned it.

Instead…

He was just glad that he could stay with Altaïr longer.

.

[Why are you bringing that child?]

“Jealous?”

[You do not need that child.]

“He’s not a child, is he? He doesn’t feel like one.”

[He knows nothing.]

“No one does. Only we know how this past must become to pave way to a better future. Is he not part of your Calculations?”

[He is inconsequential.]

“Then it doesn’t matter if I have him then if that’s true.”

[…]

“He sounds a lot like you. But he’s more… not innocent. No. That’s not the right word… ‘mortal’.”

[Altaïr, do not forget your pact with me.]

“I prefer to call it our vows but what do I know? I am but the first of your many, aren’t I? But he… he’s mine and mine alone.”

[Do not let him distract you.]

“When have I ever failed you? I know what he is. I can see it in his glow. He’s like you… he is you, isn’t he?”

[…]

“Is he my reward for being your loyal puppet king, my dear Reader? Or is he an anomaly I can do as I please?”

[… do as you wish but do not forget who you belong to, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.]

“I belong to you but you do not belong to me. But he… Desmond. He will be mine.”

Altaïr stared at the Apple on his table.

The Apple glowed dimly.

[Fine. Do as you wish.]

“I will.” Altaïr tapped the Apple, letting it roll an inch away from him, “Relax, my dear Reader. Aren’t you curious?”

“Who decided to place your human self here in our fixed past?”

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Assorted Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Soft Headcanons

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

A/N: I warned y'all I was in a mood. Thanks to @leighsartworks216 for letting me yell at them about this stuff. This is me at my full self indulgent, so, be warned. (If you want a part two with more thoughts, let me know! Or let me know which one of these you'd like to see a full fic for)

Astarion makes a game out of slipping food into Evie's bag and pockets

Like they’re in a market and when they get back she finds an extra apple in her pack. Or she searches her pockets and suddenly there’s a handful of roasted nuts that weren’t there before. She's asked him about it once they’re traveling, but Astarion just shrugs telling her his little snack deserves some of her own.

At first it was about the number of items, but when he realized he could cheat by counting individual roasted walnuts it lost some of the fun, then it became a matter of size

His triumph was a full loaf of bread (his goal is one day a whole melon)

He doesn't mention how he's notice her sneak her fair share of apples off some unexpecting merchant's cart, or how she slips extra food into a napkin before stuffing it in her pocket

And he certainly doesn't mention how he can't stand to see her hungry, even for a moment

Astarion just being cat coded, especially when it comes to cuddling

There are days he doesn't want to be touched; even after he and Evie get together he's got 200 years of abuse to sort through

There are times he feels guilty feeling this way, he knows for a fact Evie would never hurt him, but the idea of touching anyone just burns his skin

But then there are the opposite times, when all he wants to do is surround herself in her warmth and scent, listening to her heart and feeling her touch

Evie only partially chides him for it. She can't be expected to lay in bed all day to which Astarion only scoffs. She can't possibly expect him to just give up on his limited time alone with her (limited being a two hour gig at the local tavern). No, she's going to stay right there, with him and take his attentions until he good and ready to let her up again. Evie only laughs accepting her fate as she runs her fingers through his hair letting herself sink into the plush mattress and the comforting weight of his body on top of hers

Evie insisting Astarion would make a wonderful musician; he's got the hands for it and has never been silent about his opinions abut music

Astarion, however, really isn't the best student, at least with Evie's way of teaching

He has he potential to be technically proficient, but Evie learned by ear and that's how she teaches it

All the same, he does try and actually finds himself enjoying it a quite bit

There's something in the back of his mind, a half remembered feeling that he's done this before

The smell of the wood under his nose, the feel of the string under his fingers; muscles memory from a life stolen away

It's...comforting

He makes Evie swear not to tell anyone about his new hobby and she keeps her mouth shut

Astarion helping Evie find a good proper winter coat.

Astarion is actually really sensitive to cold so once the seasons change he’s like, “wait I’ve got gold, I can buy as many coats and gloves as I want!” Evie encourages him, but when he brings up something to get her, she keeps insisting she’s fine. Astarion knows that’s bullshit. This is the same person who wraps themselves up like a cocoon (hogging all the blankets at the same time) every night no matter the weather. 

Astarion is having none of it and starts pressuring her to try on some coats, just to see how they feel. He watches until finally she slips on one and her eyes light up with that “this is it” spark. She looks good in it, but more importantly she’s warm. He can also see her start to mentally talk herself out of it. But before she can Astarion is already paying the shop owner. And he’s picked out a scarf and gloves to match. It wouldn’t do to have his love lose her nose and fingers would it?

Evie protesting saying that he doesn’t have to do all this for her. She’d been looking after herself just fine long before they met. Astarion just shrugs wrapping the new scarf around her neck as he tells her, “arguable, but that’s beside the point. I am here now, and I swore to myself some time ago that you would never be cold again. You wouldn’t want to make me a liar.” Evie touched, but needing to deflect says, “You are a liar.” Astarion looks her in the eye then, his expression taking on a severity that he only gets when he’s being completely serious, “Not on the important things. Not with you.”

Evie has learned how best to wake Astarion up without startling him too much so he hurts himself or her. Not grabbing him, but brushing a hand through his hair and whispering to him, or making sure he gets a good inhale of her scent or something else that relaxes him. It helps ease him out.

After that it's up to him whether he wants her close or needs to take a walk. It's part of the reason why he doesn't necessarily like sleeping by himself. Left alone with his own thoughts makes it easily to slip into that dark hole. Being near the warmth of his love and surrounded in their smell helps him know he's safe.

Astarion watching Evie as she takes her bows, stopping at a few tables to pick up some extra coin and chat up the crowd. She's lively with a bright smile, cracking a few jokes before moving on to the next table. It would be near impossible to spot, but he can as she briefly meets his eye across the room. She's getting tired and is ready to go home. Finally she makes her way to him, the mask of the performer sliding off as she sinks into his arms. He still doesn't quite know how she does it. One second the room couldn't take their eyes off her and the next she's just another face. He can't bring himself to complain though, it's easier to keep her all to himself and to make a clean exit. Still he offers for them to stay a little longer; far be it for him to deny her joy. She just shakes her head, giving him a smile, not bright but achingly warm, the one he knows is just for him, before asking him to take her home. Now that he is more than happy to do.

[moobell55]

Happy Evajacks headcanons

A little something while we all suffer waiting for A curse for true love

-Lots of Forehead Kisses since Jacks is a lot taller than Eva

-Jacks learns to braid her hair after watching her do it

-After he turns human Jacks tries to avoid apples but loves Eva's various apple deserts

-He teaches her to swim in The Hollows lake of stars (Possibly leading to sexy times :)

-Princess Fluffkins (The Fox from Ouabh) likes to make random visits whenever Eva and Jacks are outside

-Eva tries and fails many times to convince Jacks to re dye his hair blue (She finds it hilarious but he most certainly is not amused)

-Jacks is a late night snacker, Eva often finds him eating some kind of apple related his in the middle of the night

-They don't fight often but when they do it lasts hours (They always make up in the end, Eva Can't stay mad at him for long and he hates upsetting her)

-Cuddle sessions all over The Hollow

-They go for a walk each morning in the woods around The Hollow and tell each other stories

-They take all their baths together (Wink Wink), the only problem is they can never decide on the temperature of the water (Eva likes warm while Jacks like water "The heat of the sun" in Eva's words)

-Washing each others hair in the bath (Eva has a very specific routine while Jacks just loves having his hair touched for as long as possible)

-Jacks brushes out her hair every night before they go to bed

-Eva sleeps in nightgowns (Except for Jacks shirts when she wants to rile him up) Jacks sleeps in just his underwear (He's been trying to convince Eva to let him sleep naked but she refuses)

-Eva sleeps on the left side of the bed and Jacks on the right but he hogs the middle

-Neither of them snore but Eva's a blanket hog and Jacks steals half the bed in his sleep

-Jacks always wakes first, he stays in bed and simply watches his beautiful wife rest (Hoping she's dreaming of him)

-When Eva wakes up the first thing she does is tell Jacks he looks handsome smiling (She knows he's only smiling because of her)

-They Kiss and lie in bed together before having breakfast

-It takes many years of being married to convince Jacks they should have children (His argument being he could lose her in childbirth and him not wanting their children to turn out like him)

-Eva wins in the end

-It takes months for them to concieve (This worry Jacks as he thinks there's something wrong with him)

-He's overbearingly protective already but once they find out that they're having a baby he goes over the end (Much to Eva's frustration and slight enjoyment)

-Even though he's human he still had some of his Fate powers, he could still sense others heartbeats (He finds out Eva's pregnant before she even knew because of this, he cries quite a bit after his discovery)

-Jacks has no interest in naming the baby knowing his wife will choose the perfect name (If it was a boy she wanted to name him after Jacks, this was the only name he refused)

Hope you guys enjoy these, I'll probably make another part sometime in the future that might contain a bit more angst :)

[worldcatlas]

Star Trek: The Motion Picture (part 2)

We’re back to the big screen to finish up Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and discover even more exciting shades of beige.

In part one, I skipped over a brief appearance by the Klingons because you can barely see them, but with a bit of photo editing, we can take a closer look.

Why are their bridges so dark? Do targs have sensitive eyes?

Interestingly, they wear a style of uniform we would later see in TNG and beyond – all grey leather and metal studs – rather than the “sparkly sweater vest” uniforms Klingons usually wore in the original series. Although it’s a significant and unexplained departure from their small-screen appearance, I have to say, it’s a lot easier to take these Klingons seriously.

Remember these guys? Star Trek wants you to forget.

I also skipped over a brief appearance by a lil’ guy in a space suit, but we’ll get back to this costume later.

You just float there for now.

Picking up where we left off, Kirk steps off a shuttle sporting a handsome new uniform in slimming charcoal grey and white. It maintains the gold rank braids on the cuffs from the original series uniforms, but adds a futuristic belt, military-style shoulder marks, and a solid metal Starfleet badge. A stiff, quilted collar adds a touch of “space suit,” as well. All in all, a very sleek space-age outfit that feels like a solid upgrade to the brightly-coloured sweaters of TOS.

I can’t wait to see how everyone else looks in this cool new uniform! 

We also get a momentary, blurry glimpse of some excellent-looking Vulcan robes in black and gold, but once again, this beautiful costume barely gets a moment of screentime before being whisked away.

He had to hurry off to fix his eyebrows, I get it.

So… as it turns out, only admirals get the cool new penguin uniform, and everyone else is stuck with space scrubs. They don’t even get a metal badge (not even hard-working Scotty!), just an embroidered patch with a silver Starfleet delta against a coloured circle indicating the wearer’s department.

At least he gets the cool belt.

Up on the bridge of the Enterprise, It’s a full-on Situation Beige. Crewmen buzz around the bridge in every imaginable shade of white, off-white, tan, taupe, and ecru, blending in nicely with the bulkheads.

Fashion crimes notwithstanding, I think there’s also an OSHA violation or two going on here…

Not even Uhura is immune to unflattering shades of khaki, although she does give us a quick glimpse at the Apple Watch-like wrist communicator worn throughout the film. It’s a great accessory that would unfortunately be rendered obsolete by the comm badge as the franchise moved on.

This woman deserves fashion, dammit!

Chekov, Sulu, and other crewmen model a few interesting variations on the theme, including a tight-fitting polo, a standard crew neck, and an awkwardly-tailored sport coat that can’t possibly be regulation.

You know, for uniforms, they’re not very… uniform.

While others, like Commander Decker, enjoy tight-fitting jumpsuits in the beige-est possible shade of blue. Somehow, I just don’t get a sense of authority from a man who looks like he’s been vacuum-sealed inside his footie pajamas.

Oh boy, you can see Commander Decker’s whole entire Commander Decker.

Next, we are treated to a great crowd shot that really shows off the scope of the costume department’s efforts, with dozens of varied uniforms packed into the scene. It makes me feel a little bad for going after the colour palette so hard, considering the difficulty of coordinating so many pieces.

Then again, it really is giving “thermal underwear in space.”

There are a few noteworthy variations in the crowd, including the guy with an uncovered electrical socket in the front row, but my favourite is probably this Native American officer with cool beaded accessories.

Chakotay could learn a thing or two.

The next character to make their big screen debut is the ship’s doctor, Leisure Suit Larry Dr. McCoy, in a fly as hell, disco-ready outfit, complete with gold chain, oversized belt buckle, and a frankly criminal amount of chest hair. And let’s not even talk about the beard. Thankfully, the good doctor soon cleans up and changes into uniform.

Still too much chest hair.

Next, we pay a visit to engineering to see Scotty, who has gotten a significant costume upgrade. Along with his fellow warp core enthusiasts, Mr. Scott sports a heavy-duty, protective-looking white suit with a strange socket (or antennae?) on the chest, surrounded by concentric circles of padded fabric that really make you wanna plug something in there. Oddly, the costumes also feature black rubber collars that presumably attach to their matching helmets, but do not appear at all sealed to the body of the suit.

They’re air-tight…ish.

Fortunately, the suits also include a handy, built-in to-do list.

Memory aids can be helpful for a… mature crew.

Last but not least, the old gang is finally back together as Spock joins the crew, feeling absolutely no emotion about how slick he looks in these long-sleeved Vulcan robes. I love the matching grey tones between the high-collared shirt underneath and the embroidered Vulcan script on the outer garment (though I’m sure this was a purely logical choice).

It says “zip up here.”

Sadly, Spock is quick to follow protocol and changes into a Starfleet uniform as well. However, he does keep the collared undershirt, creating an ensemble that – in a nice nod to TOS – closely resembles his old uniform.

Spock appreciates consistency.

Uhura has also gotten a costume change, and although they still won’t let her out of Beige Hell, she has at least gotten a smart two-piece pant suit that looks a little more comfortable. In addition to being more flattering, this uniform also includes the gold rank braids at the wrists.

Maybe the replicators in the 2270s only have one colour of ink.

Some plot happens, and the ship’s navigator, Ilia, gets hijacked by an alien entity. After briefly experimenting with no costume, she manifests this wild sci-fi bath robe with a huge Dracula collar. The asymmetrical hemline is super cute, but the belt at the waist could be a bit higher and more fitted. I do like how the pink lining inside the collar complements the robo-transmitter implanted in her collarbone.

The bad news: an alien has taken over your body. The good news: they put on a cute fit~

The back of the collar is a nice touch as well, tapering into a heart shape that flatters the actress’ perfectly-shaped head.

So smooth.

On the other hand, I cannot agree with V’ger’s choice of psychically-manifested footwear for this outfit. Clear plastic high heels might look futuristic, but they’re completely impractical for walking through a ship with perforated deck plating, running through sandy-floored caves, or standing near a warp core without melting.

At the other end of practicality, we are introduced to some members of the ship’s security team, who are inexplicably dressed like old-timey football players. They sport shiny helmets, phaser holsters, and crotch-protecting armour in a lovely chocolate brown. While it does break up the beige, it feels a bit silly to see combat guys ready to rumble on a Starfleet vessel.

I think they saw what the Klingons were wearing and got jealous.

Deciding to accessorize, V’ger tries on a headband belonging to her host. It’s a lovely beaded and sequined piece, with a gold charm dangling at one side, and very nearly reminds the navigator who she used to be.

Does this accessory clash with my parasitic control of another sentient being?

Things are getting intense story-wise, and Spock suits up in a shiny red “thruster suit” to take care of business – that is, an EV suit painted safety orange and strapped onto a rocket that looks like it was built with spare kitchen utensils. The whole ensemble is incredibly bulky, but believably looks like a rocket-belt-type contraption that might’ve existed in the 1970s.

Do what you have to do, Spock, but I’ll need my colander back before dinner.

We’re treated to a close-up on the suit’s gloves as Spock pilots the contraption, revealing plenty of details, including more structural quilting. I like the raised details along each finger on the gloves, implying some kind of built-in system, perhaps heating or robotic assistance. The frame of the thruster suit (painted beige) contains a control panel, with buttons on every surface. This segment detaches from the suit itself, so there are also buttons built into the left sleeve.

One for lemonade, one for ice, and one for diet Romulan ale.

We also get a good look at the back of the suit without the rocket attachment when Spock mind melds with V’ger, revealing more quilted details, including some hilarious concentric squares on the butt. From this angle, the suit is mostly the work of the prop department, who have done an excellent job making the hardware look both hi-tech and capable of playing Betamax tapes.

I think my Grandma had one of those on top the TV.

Kirk comes thrusting to the rescue in his own suit, and soon Spock is whisked away to Sick Bay for another costume change. I think this is meant to be a futuristic hospital gown, but it really looks like they’ve just wrapped the sheets around his legs and pinned them in place with binder clips.

In case the doctors need quick access to his thighs.

On the other hand, the sleeveless top is a whole look, and I love the hood with contrasting orange lining.

Not gonna lie, I’d wear it.

As a bonus, Doctors McCoy and Chapel have evolved into their final form: an all-white medical uniform with an oddly rounded collar, shoulder marks, and – notably – a rod of Asclepius embroidered on the left breast, in lieu of a Starfleet delta.

Missing a couple buttons there, Doc?

In the climactic finale, our brave crew suits up for one last away mission in suede jackets, taking advantage of the material’s natural beige hue. Unusual for Trek, they appear to have several large, prominent pockets – but any unease is quickly dispelled by the reassuring presence of decorative quilting along the arms. Speaking of which, the left arm of each jacket bears a reflective stripe that, curiously, does not seem to indicate rank or department, as Spock alone has a red armband.

Fascinating.

With little to differentiate their outfits, Decker decides to accessorize with dramatic lighting and sparkles. Lots of sparkles. Met-Gala-rolled-in-a-Michaels level of sparkles, a.k.a. the correct amount for any outfit. And with that, the Earth is saved.

What was the point of the film again?

[thisisjustmefangirling]

Merlin rewatch : 2x09 "The lady of the lake"

Freya must have been so cold wearing these rags…

Gaius, your acceptance/resignation towards people being sold for a price if they have magic freaks me out.

As if Merlin was going to let a defenseless looking girl stay in that cage… Especially someone with magic. He feels empathy for them.

Is that the first time we're seeing the Rising sun tavern ?

Oh Merlin is using so many spells in a few minutes, I'm loving it…

"Here, I thought you might be cold."

"I just saw you and… It could have been me, in that cage".

WHY is Merlin not stealing from the kitchens instead of bringing Arthur a rotten apple and a stale piece of bread ? The NERVE ?! I wouldn't have given this to anyone, even less my BOSS, a PRINCE.

Arthur's indignation : "I am fighting fit!"

I think this is where we're getting started with the fatphobic jokes…

Arthur has scratches/scars on his chest ? Where did he get that ?

Merlin giving Arthur "Sire" because he knows he fucked up…

Oh Freya was a druid ?

Merlin !!!! How did you not realise that that bathwater was BOILING and could COOK ARTHUR TO DEATH ?

"You need to warn them, Sire. The girl is dangerous. My informer told me she was cursed."

"How so ?"

"He didn't know. But he said even the druids were frightened of her. They cast her out of their camp."

So Freya is an outcast. Just like Merlin, in some way. Merlin is so powerful it'd be easy to be afraid of him once he's mature enough. He's not part of the druids. Neither is Freya.

Add butter to that bread and cheese and you get un jambon-beurre haha.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince" hahaha no shit Merlin !

"He knows but I'm not sure he understands". => Merlin about Gaius knowing about Merlin's magic.

"Magic is not a curse. It can be a gift!" Oh baby in 1x01 you feared you were a monster ?

Merlin is lying to Gaius' face and his very inquisitive eyes…

Merlin stealing Arthur's food is supposed to be a joke, okay, but I'm not sure I like it now. Arthur is being deprived of a good breakfast and lunch. He'll be cranky come evening. Give him food.

"Merlin is my servant, he has my absolute trust. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Do you understand ?"

This line is doing things to my heart, oh la la…

The fact that Arthur doesn't question Merlin AT ALL about his strange behaviour, they just bicker about the stolen sausages and Arthur's weight and then Merlin just… leaves. And goes straight to see Freya.

"I scare most people away" Freya you deserve better…

"You can't always trust people."

"I know. That's why I left home."

Merlin :/ Babe <3

Let it be remembered that Merlin can make flowers appear, but not food.

"With you, I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. I don't have to worry."

"Being different is nothing to be scared of".

AND THAT SINGLE TEAR ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK !

Awww Merlin behaving like a lovesick puppy <3

This is the first time Merlin even THINKS about leaving Camelot. He's known Freya for two days. He's just really desperate to be known for who he really is, and to be free…

Moths and woodworms : the "reasons" why Merlin is snooping into closets and bedside tables he should not be touching at all.

"Running an errand for Gaius" : excuse number 1 for weird shit and secret missions Merlin is doing.

Arthur not giving a fuck about Merlin possibly crossdressing for fun in his spare time : "As long as you do a decent day's work, Merlin, that's all I care about. […] What a man does in his spare time is completely up to him". And then the compliment : "colour suits you Merlin".

This is day three now.

"We can leave tonight, as soon as it gets dark, and we can be together".

Horses, blankets and food and they won't need more. A second kiss, and goodbye. Freya doesn't have the heart to tell him.

"There was a time when you thought twice about lying to me".

Yet Merlin said "Of course not!" which such an air of sincerity… Oh yeah, he's turning into a really good liar…

Mais Gaius t'es tellement une grosse balance, t'es là à lécher les pompes d'UTHER au lieu de régler le problème avec Merlin !

"You can never understand. Do you know how it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are ?"

"Freya is very different from you. She's dangerous."

Oh I didn't remember Arthur saw her in her human form ! Lol he's just there blinking as she's turning into a bastet…

I can't freaking believe Arthur's guards and knights are running away while Arthur is trying to fight the bastet !

MERLIN ! You almost crushed Arthur to death !

He's petting her head ???

OH is Freya a rape survivor, forced to kill people by the mother of her rapist ? That's so fucked up…

"Please go."

"No. I'm not leaving you here".

The PARALLELS with Arthur's dying moments !

"One day, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise". Okay but do we actually see that happen in the next seasons ? I don't remember her.

What I do remember from years ago is directors saying that Colin held that level of intensity and sadness for hours in the rain for those lake scenes.

It's the first time he has to light a funeral pyre for a friend and it sadly won't be the last…

That last scene with Arthur always gets to me. Arthur might be oblivious to a lot of things but he pays attention to Merlin more than Merlin might think, I'd say.

"Something's been upsetting you, hasn't it ?"

Arthur has seen Merlin doing the weirdest things in the past four days or so : stealing his food, calling him fat, giving him stale food to eat, stealing a dress, being accused of hiding a druid… And he doesn't accuse Merlin of anything himself. He thinks "Oh, Merlin has been upset. I must find out why. Maybe it's because of me." and then he sort of apologises and when words fail him, he uses action to make Merlin smile again. Because seeing Merlin smile, as we'll learn in the next seasons ("I haven't seen you smile in the past three days") is important to Arthur. Because he cares. Another thing that gets to me is that when Merlin is sitting upset doing his chores, Arthur usually comes to sit next to him, at his eye level, or even UNDER his eye level sometimes. Yet, a Prince should never be sitting at a lower level than a servant or any lesser noble. He gives himself the look of a listener, and he's bad with words and feelings (because of his father's shitty education) but he TRIES.

Last episode was Arthur centric, with Arthur showing his most intimate thoughts and feelings to/in front of Merlin : his grief and guilt about his mother's death, his rage at the idea that his father was responsible for her death, that he was a hypocrite and a liar... This episode was Merlin centric. I wonder what next episode will be like.

This episode was really good at exploring Merlin's feelings about his magic, his identity as a warlock, his sense of loneliness at the heart of Camelot. Gaius cares about him but is still loyal to Uther, and Merlin is not sure Gaius really understands him and what it's like to be a warlock. Arthur... Merlin cares about Arthur and Arthur cares about him, but Merlin knows that he could end up in a cage just like Freya. And I think a part of him might resent Arthur for it. Or at least, at the end of the episode, he's tired of his chores... But no wonder. Your crush is killed by your soulmate, and you still have to show up at work the next day and shine his boots ?

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THEM [PART 4]

-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]

[Part 4] [Part 5 - Coming Soon]

This is a sequel to One of the Boys

-> <-

“Do you think he has plans for that asparagus, or does he just need a friend?” Eddie’s head is tilted just to the right, while he studies the man across the aisles.

You plop five plump potato’s into a plastic sack provided by the grocery store, and hum a soft tune to yourself. Ignoring Eddie, you take the sack and drop it down onto the metal scale to imagine the price point.

When you move, however, Eddie is frozen in time. His eyes move past the displays of fresh lemons and limes, and over the apples and pears. A man is scratching his finger over the Saran Wrap tucking a set of asparagus in a tight film. Peering through Coke bottle glasses, he pouts his bottom lip and then puts the produce back.

“You’ve been watching him for a while?” You try to sound less irritated than you are. Shopping with Eddie got easier once you asked him to push the cart. In a way, this tethered him to you because he kept his hands busy and off of the shelves where he insisted on touching everything.

Eddie doesn’t mean any harm, after all he is just looking. Suppose he looks for a bit too long and he’s a bit distracted, then you’ll correct him with a sour sort of ‘come on, Eddie,’ like his uncle Wayne does sometimes. But, his uncle never buys fresh potatoes. Eddie has got no idea what you’ll do with those. When you told him you wanted to make dinner for him tonight, he thought the box of mashed potatoes was fine enough and the steaks in the back of the freezer had only been there a few months - or a year. Who can tell the difference?

You surely can.

When you suggested that he come with you to go to the grocery store, he saw the glee on your face. He can’t say no to you.

There’s something soft about the way you’re touching everything on purpose. You studied those potatoes like the man did with his asparagus, but when you got a little pouty, Eddie’s heart fluttered in his chest.

You’ve got one hand on the cart, so to him you feel connected even if you’re not holding onto each other. Guiding him in the right direction down the isle, he'll never get lost as long as you're there with him.

Eddie is damn near snoozing by the end of the laundry list of grocery items. There is only six, but that's six too many. You offer to buy him something sweet in exchange for his patience with you.

“Did you want to go to the little bakery? They’ve probably got chocolate cake or cookies,” you wiggle at the end of the cart.

Eddie straightens his back at this.

“Sure, but no chocolate,” he shakes his head. “I don’t like that stuff.”

“You don’t like chocolate,” you’re more taken aback than he imagined you might be. “But, what about the chocolate cake I made you for your birthday two years ago, and the cupcakes I made for your birthday this year! You said they were the best. I even kept the recipe!”

“Sweetheart,” he catches up to you, so he can wrap an arm around your shoulders. “How could I possibly tell you that I didn’t like chocolate when you’d spend all day baking for me? Hm? I really did appreciate the gesture. You know- among the thick layers of goo- oof!”

You’ve elbowed him in the side. Rightfully so! Smiling into the case of donuts, you make a beeline for the grinning worker behind the counter.

“Can I get a loaf of- erm, that one,” you’re not sure how to pronounce the name.

Eddie’s gone when you spin around with your bread loaf. Eyeing the treats, he aims for a small cherry pie. He pulls his hand back and shakes his head. Your boyfriend flicks his hair behind his ears because as much as he likes his hair, he does get hot sometimes. Boyfriend.

Eddie Munson is your boyfriend.

Have you said that out loud yet?

“The bread,” you announce like he’s memorized dinner plans.

Eddie shocks you, “steak next, right?”

Aisles of produce pass you by like time ticking on a clock. You’ve gotten everything on your list by now that Eddie clutches in your hand. Time wastes on because you don’t want to go home quite yet. You’re in control of the cart, and Eddie’s bounding between aisles to show you something ‘cool’ he’s found.

The cart slowly is taken over by snacks you haven’t planned to spend money on, but you do anyway because Eddie’s joy means more to you than a dollar.

Eddie pops a rope candy in his mouth, while you organize the cashier belt in line.

“Don’t forget the bags,” Eddie pulls some plastic bags from the bottom of the cart that you keep in your house. You reuse them as long as possible, and Eddie finds this endearing.

“Thanks,” you put them in the front of the groceries already stacked on the belt.

Eddie tosses a wrapped piece of chocolate onto the belt you hadn’t seen him grab from the shelves.

“I thought of you,” he taps the wrapper, before the belt sweeps the sweet away. “It’s got caramel. Your favorite, right?”

"It is," you sigh completely defeated that he knows more about you than you about him.

"My favorite is cherry," he swings the licorice in the air.

“Sir,” the cashier’s lips thin. “You’re paying for that, right?”

Eddie’s chewed through the whole package of candy by now, and humorously he’d like to imply that he’s not. But with you in mind, he hands the woman the wrapper without fuss. You wrap onto his arm like a child, and he places another kiss to the top of your head.

You’re paying for the grocery run today, but Eddie promises that the next time you’re shopping together that he will pay. The conversation floats past your ears because you’re just thrilled there will come a next time.

The van is waiting for you in the parking lot, where Eddie tosses you the keys to unlock the doors. He’s busy rummaging through the back trying not to rattle his band equipment, but he does use the inside of the drums to steady the dozen eggs.

“Are you buckled?” Eddie climbs into the drivers side.

You’re set in the passenger seat with the chocolate that Eddie bought for you. Using his thumb, he swipes at your chin where you’ve smeared melted chocolate on by accident.

“I’m buckled,” you tighten the seatbelt. “Do you want a bite?”

“No, but could you hand me the hamburger back there?”

You scrunch your nose. “How long has that been there?”

“Eh.. like a couple days?”

“Eddie!”

Laughter fills the corners of the van like a harmonious song. Well tuned - perfectly pitched.

-> <-

Eddie is an awful cook.

Finding your attention drawn onto the sharp knife in your hand, slicing potatoes into chunks, you’re not watching Eddie scrambling behind you. He’s got two spoons in his hands, but he scratches his head at what for. It isn’t until you’re gasping at the blackened smoke coming from the stove.

Flipping the carrots around in the pan, Eddie’s apologizing over and over. You reassure that the carrots still could be edible, but judging by the blackened bottoms, you both know well-enough to toss them.

You’re putting the potatoes into the hot water, only burning the tips of your fingers.

Eddie’s in control - er, sort of - cutting up new carrots. Following along what you did earlier, you bite your tongue at the massive pinches of black pepper and salt he’s added. Tablespoon or teaspoon? He’s got no clue!

“I’ll keep an eye out this time,” he holds a staring contest with the searing hot pan that’s still a bit too hot for the carrots.

You turn the burner down, and flick the carrots around until the smoke clears. Eddie groans, and takes over because he doesn’t like being micromanaged. It’s all in good fun, though. He does find being in the kitchen with you quite homey.

Homey.

Eddie’s never had that feeling before. Last time he’s felt at home, no offense to Wayne, was when his mom found him hidden in the cupboards of their little house. Sure, life wasn’t perfect for the Munsons, but his mom always kept the court dates and the legal shit out of his eye the best she could.

When she died, a part of Eddie had too. He misses the warm hugs and kisses, the way she lets him lick the spoon when she makes cookies from the tube.

But, alas, if his life was perfect then he wouldn’t be here with you. Eddie finds himself feeling pretty perfect anyway because you’re there. You’re humming a tune to yourself, as you twist the timer to twenty minutes. Old and barely alive, the timer clicks on like a mighty oak.

“Twenty minutes until the potatoes are done,” you swirl around to Eddie. He knows the sigh coming from your mouth is less about the exhaustion from cooking, as it is dealing with him in the kitchen. “What should we do while we wait?”

Eddie places his hands on your cheeks, and brings you into his chest. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. Beating rhythms of your hearts pump between you two. You’ve got your ear to his breast imagining what’s dancing around in there.

Unintentionally, Eddie flicks the backing of your bra. A flame ignites inside you. Did he notice? Did he mean too?

Are you even prepared if the night falls that way?

You’re a bundle of nerves knowing that when that moment drops, and the both of you find yourself even closer than you are now that nothing could be the same. Going back isn’t an option. Swirling stars cloud your vision, as your breathing slows.

Eddie hums when your grip on his back loosens. He sways with you, while you’re drifting farther into your head.

Skies of warm orange and cotton candy coated pinks cloud your eye. Touching a garden of soft spring flowers. Ridges of the stone bridge. A kiss is pressed onto your forehead like a dew drop, raising you from your state of hypnosis.

“You still with me?” Eddie’s voice vibrates through your ears.

“Hm,” you hum. “Should we sit down?”

Eddie guides you to the couch where you’ll stay drifting into your own world with a blanket draped over your lap. You attempt to join him in the kitchen when the timer goes off, but Eddie raises his index finger and says,

“Don’t you dare.”

Then, your boyfriend wrestles with the oven to get the roast from it’s hot cage and plops too much butter into the mash. He winces when he puts the spoon to his lip, and tries to fend off your worry by telling you that the food is just hot.

Eddie sits next to you with two plates of food - one in each hand. He waits a moment for you to sit back up after sinking into the aged sofa, then lands the warm plate in your lap.

You’ve got no idea what you’re watching on the television, but right beside you is all the entertainment you need. Laughing heartily at Eddie’s cross expression, he sticks out his tongue at the well-done carrots.

“Don’t eat them,” he reaches for a glass of water. “They’re really awful.”

You nibble at the end of a carrot, and suck down your outward terror at how salty the vegetable is.

“It’s not that bad.”

They are indeed that bad.

Worse - even.

“You’re cute, but a terrible liar,” he pinches your shoulder.

-> <-

tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Chaggie Headcanons🍎🦋

My Charlie and Vaga(I call Vaggie Vaga now. Guess my take could be called Chaga)

Charlie loves to plays love songs for Vaga. Def has her own version of OH Millie.

Vaga’s also done her own share of songs for Charlie. Usually calm, sweet lullaby like songs. Things “you’re ok Centaurworld, Della Ducks lullaby, you’ll be ok etc”.🌌🌙😴

Vaga collects pretty objects for her. Shells, flowers, fireflies, things that glow, shiny rocks etc🐚🌹

Vaga uses her hair to wrap Charlie when she needs comfort or to get closer with her in bed. Will also sing or hum lullabies to her. Calls it Cocooning🦋

Both have def carried each other, usually when the other’s tired to bring them to bed. Charlie’s especially strong(she’s the Princess of Hell afterall).

Would absolute just pick up Vaga to show people “HEY LOOK AT MY AWESOME GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!💖💖💖💖💖” if Vaga let her.

Charlie def has the most pet names between them💖 fav is “Vagababe” and “mothball”. Vaga blushes so much from these ones😳

Vaga’s called Charlie “apple blossom” and lambkins”, def her fav😊🌸🐑

Enjoy dancing together. Vaga always loved dancing but…fell out of it. Being with the music loving Charlie helped Vaga get that love back💃

Vaga once put on a sorta bird plumage dance but with her hair for Charlie. She loved it 😊

Vaga’s does not like people being too close to her or touch her(especially her hair and antennae) feels most comfortable with Charlie. Charlie likes to make fun little faces and whisper sweet nothings to her hair skull in hopes to make it smile☠️😊

Def keep each other from getting themselves killed whenever they’re sick/hurt/NEED TO REST!

Charlie would think Vaga’s human form is equally adorable as her sinner form. Charlie-Your Soul is the most beautiful, in any form💖

Charlie helps Vaga with her social skills, learning to open up and let loose a bit. Def has had to remind Vaga about not pointing her spear right at peoples faces.

Vaga helps Charlie understand the complexities with sinners and the challenges that come with redemption…especially about the reluctance many have about…sharing their past.

Charlie’s as protective of Vaga as she is of her, if perhaps more. As patient as she is and very aware Vaga can take care of herself for the most part…try anything and she WILL MESS YOU UP! Has absolutely had to contain herself from literally blowing up from sinners trying to make a pass at Vaga(with how human she looks, sinners def find her cute…if perhaps also creepy, she’s part moth)

Also has had to keep Vaga from getting zapped by bright bug zappers.

Charlie usually helps Vaga pick out clothes, especially for formal occasions👗👠. Has given her some of her mother’s old stuff to wear aswell as old stuff she herself doesn’t wear anymore. Also enjoys helping with makeup 💄.

Dates:

Charlie. Loves to go all out, do something sweet and special!

Has Def taken Vaga to Uncle Ozzies for a special date! In fact the picture I used above is based on that! Chaggie Go To Ozzie’s🍎🦋

Also has taken her LuluWorld like that Pilot picture showed with OG Chaggie. Def didn't take her to Loo Loo Land.

Going on the rewrite idea that sinners can go to other Rings. When Charlie read how El Salvador's(Vaga’s home country) also known as the “Land of Volcanoes”, takes Vaga to the Wrath Ring to enjoy the sights.🌋 Also enjoyed the music and dancing. It was nostalgic for Vaga…reminded her of happier times.

Charlie, Absolutely has taken Vaga to every musical possible. Some of Vaga’s top favs include, “In The Heights”, “Hamilton” & “Heathers”!

Vaga. Usually more tame compared to Charlie’s ideas but tries her best to make them just as great💖

Dates planned by Vaga. Usually nice little picnics(by the beach under the stars, watching a park community theatre, on the Hotel Roof)

The Movies, either at a theatre or at home. Usually looks for musical ones, knowing they’re Charlie’s fav💖

Vagas Def made some Salvador meals and goodies for Charlie. Has def made her delicious meals for dates, probably asks Husk to prepare nice drinks too!🍸

A lot of Vaga’s dates are in the evening/night. She’s a moth afterall🦋🌌. Def enjoys the night breeze, not too many people out, the stars, moon etc.

Like to take Charlie to calm, secluded places so they can just enjoy the moment between them.

Charlie’s def looked for things such as food, music, nature etc, that could remind Vaga of her old home, even began to take up Spanish herself for Vaga💖.

Def help brush each other's hair. Vaga especially needs the help.

The apple pin Vaga wears was from Charlie for her cloak. And the bow Charlie wears was from Vaga, ripped a bit of her own cloak and made it into a cute bow for her in thanks.

For my Chaggie, it's not that Charlie puts too much pressure on vaga, would never mean to. But it's Mainly Vagas own inner demons making her devoted to Charlie and do everything she can to help her...especially for what she did☠️🪽🗡️

Does her best to encourage Vaga to think for herself, that it’s ok to disagree with her, think differently from her, question her.

Vaga-I would die and kill for you!

Charlie-Please dont!

Both haven’t always been the most open about the past(Charlie’s old flames, Vaga’s…everything).

Warning, this one’s sad💔💔💔💔

When Charlie finds out the truth of Vaga not only being an exorcist but the one who...it destroys them both💔 Vaga moves into the Heaven Embassy(where Charlie and Adam talked) or somewhere else away to give her space, and Charlie...she was a wreck(even took off her bow tie). Had to take some days away from each other. Their reconciliation def took some more time💔

What do u think? Any headcanons you have for Chaggie or any of the other HH ships? I’d love to know💖

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 2: Figuring Things Out

ao3 link, Part 1

cw: implied child abuse and grief

October 1986, One week prior

Julie wakes up to a loud bang followed by some crying. Followed by some yelling about being too loud from crying. She rolls over in the bed that isn’t hers and tries to fall back asleep, but when the blankets are yanked off of her, she’s forced to face reality. 

“Get up you lazy shit,” Janice Radburn, her foster parent, mutters at her. She isn’t much of a parent, probably why she never had her own kids. But it was a fast placement and an empty bed, so she’s stuck with her. 

Molly, one of the other foster kids, is sitting quietly on her bed, just looking at Julie when she sits up. 

“What?” Julie grumbles.

“We’re supposed to be up by eight, they didn’t tell you that, but we are.”

Julie gives her an annoyed look. “It’s a Saturday.”

Molly just shrugs. “Just how it is.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to bite back the words she really wants to say. Instead, she gets up, the old bed creaking with her weight loss, and heads to the bathroom. Already preparing to fight for it when she does. 

Oliver runs into her, the other foster kid. He has a fresh bandaid across his knee, but that doesn’t stop him from running around like a lunatic. He apologizes softly before running down the hall again, another thump ricocheting from his bedroom. 

The past few days have been, eventful, to say the least. If she wanted to be more realistic, fucking terrible would be the words she’d choose. She looks in the mirror, seeing the massive dark circles surrounding her still red-rimmed eyes.

A shower would be nice, scrubbing off all the weirdness of this house in the hopes that she’ll feel ok again. Crying in a place where she can do it and not be afraid of getting yelled at for being too loud. But she’ll still probably be yelled at for hogging the bathroom. She does it anyway, though, making sure to lock the door behind her. 

When the stream of water hits her, everything breaks. Half-silent sobs rip from her throat as the tears stream down her face. She hates her life, she hates this home. She hates that tomorrow she’ll have to say goodbye to her mom forever, even though she’s already long gone. 

Once she towels herself off, she slips on one of her mom’s old sweatshirts. It’s been glued to her body since that night, unable to take it off. If she closes her eyes and tries just enough, she can imagine it as her mom’s arms, her perfume still woven through the fabric. Faded from a little overuse, but still there. It mixes with the hurt to form a sense of comfort, that her mom is still there. 

Someone bangs on the door. “Get out, you prick,” Mark Radburn yells from the other side, his grumpy personality seeping through the barrier. When she opens the door, she can’t even get the whole way out before he’s bounding past her, shoving her out with the door, muttering, “Bathroom hog.”

She shakes off the side that touched him and heads downstairs. The kitchen is a mess in what she assumes to be their normal. Beer bottles litter the countertops and stubbed-out cigarettes are thrown across the floor. The milk left out on the counter and a spilled bowl of cereal in a puddle on the floor. She’ll have to clean it up, she’s sure of it.

Grabbing an apple that’s surprisingly not mushy and a granola bar, she heads for the back door. When the coast is clear, she opens it as quietly as the squeaky hinges let her, and runs. 

. . . 

Present Day, October 1986

When Steve wakes up, he almost forgets the events of the previous night has happened. That it was all some weird dream breaking up his nightmare streak. But as he walks into the hallway and sees the guestroom door he normally leaves open shut, it all comes crashing back. Realization sinks through his body as he stares at the door. 

He has a sister, a half-sister. His dick head of a dad knocked one of the many secretaries that he slept with and hid it. From him and his mom. 

Betrayal fills his body as he walks down the stairs. How could he do this to him, to his mom? To Julie? Cheating was already unforgivable in his mind, but his mom put up with it for some reason. But to have a child with someone else. That might be the final straw to break. 

He picks up the phone in his living room, letting the sleep fill his voice enough to feign sickness so he can get out of work. Keith puts up a bit of a fight but Steve wins, he always does. Robin will just hate him slightly because she’ll be left alone in the store on a Saturday with Keith who is incredibly unhelpful. 

Heading to the kitchen, he starts a pot of coffee. He’s not quite sure what Julie likes to eat, but he’s never met a kid who doesn’t like pancakes. So he grabs the mix and makes the batter, preheating the pan and plopping the batter into it when it’s ready. He makes some plain and sprinkles chocolate chips in other ones. For options. And because Robin likes them. 

Steve pours himself a cup of coffee when it stops dripping, adding in some creamer. He turns around to grab a plate to put the pancakes on when Julie walks into the room. 

“I think those are burning,” she states, suspiciously eying the stove behind him. 

“Shit,” he says when he turns around, quickly using the spatula to get them off of the pan. He takes a breath, letting out his slight frustration before pouring more batter into the pan. “There’s coffee if you want any, mugs are in that cabinet. Or there’s tea or hot chocolate in the pantry. And there’s orange juice in the fridge.”

“That’s a lot of options.”

Steve shrugs. “I know a lot of picky people.”

Julie walks over to the cabinet he pointed at, uncertainty in her movements. Not like he blames her, she’s been in this house for twelve hours and talked to him less than that. It’d be unrealistic of him to think that one conversation would be enough to make this not awkward, but he’s trying. She pours some coffee from the pot, following Steve’s direction of where the sugar and creamer are. 

“I thought you were still asleep,” Julie admits, sitting on one of the chairs at the island. “Thought a heard snoring.”

He snorts. “That would be Robin.”

They sit in silence while he makes the rest of the pancakes, successfully not burning another one. He sets the plate on the center of the island, taking the seat farthest from Julie so he doesn’t crowd her. 

Thankfully the silence is cut by Robin entering the room, still half asleep and tripping over her own feet. 

“Morning,” she mutters, immediately making her way to the coffee pot. She steals a pancake on her way, eating it with her hands. 

“There’s something called a plate, you know?” he snides as she gives him the finger. 

“This one’s burnt,” she says with a slight gag. Steve hears Julie snicker and decides to let it go. 

“I called out of work.”

Robin groans. “You’re leaving me alone with Keith, Steven. Keith. He is going to stand there and watch a movie that is not appropriate for the children coming in today while eating a bag of neverending Cheetos, getting his dust all over himself and the movies, while trying to hit on me as much as he can.”

“I told you if he’s given you a problem I’ll talk to him.”

She rolls her eyes. “And get both of us fired, no thanks.”

“Or finally annoy him enough to quit.”

Robin snorts while grabbing another pancake. “Like he’ll give up his neverending movie powers.”

The front door rattles before it slams into the wall and then shuts again. “Steve,” Eddie yells into the hallway, finding his way to the kitchen. “Oh good, you’re not dead.”

“The hell did you tell him last night?”

“That you had a migraine so we canceled movie night. I said you didn’t have to come over, dumbass.”

Eddie walks up to Steve and grabs his head. “I had to make sure that this pretty little head was ok,” he says mockingly while squishing his cheeks. “Lord knows he’s hit it enough to be concerning. Ooh, pancakes.” 

He reaches over and grabs a pancake, eating it with his hands like Robin. “You both know where the plates are.”

“Why dirty a dish when I have two perfectly good hands?” It’s at this moment when Eddie finally sees Julie sitting at the island, looking way too interested in this whole interaction. “Lawson?”

“Hey, Eddie,” Julie says, slightly confused. “How’ve you been?”

Steve can see Eddie visibly trying to connect the dots. “Pretty good considering … everything. I’m sorry, what are you doing here?”

“You know Julie?” Robin asks, eating the last pancake. 

“Yeah lived down the street from me back when I lived in the trailer. How do you two know her?”

Steve glances over at Julie and sees her tense up at the question. He would feel wrong about telling someone about this without her permission, even if it is his secret now too. She looks at him and he tries to motion with his head over to Eddie as some form of a question. But when she gives him a confused glare that makes him feel like an idiot, he gives up.

He decides it’s probably better to tell him. Eddie is someone who knows how to keep a secret, and Steve trusts him. So he can know. But he definitely needs to have a conversation with Julie about how and who they want to tell about this in the future. 

If they decide to try and become some sort of friends, maybe family, that is. 

“Can I talk to you?” Steve asks standing up and ushering Eddie out of the room. 

“What the hell man? It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I just wanted to know why she’s here.”

Steve shuts the door to the side room behind them. “Yeah, that’s what I’m about to tell you.”

Eddie looks at him confused. “Is this something serious? I thought you just adopted another high schooler.”

“Not upside down serious, but yeah kinda.” Steve takes a breath, trying not to feel weird about the way Eddie’s looking at him right now. He doesn’t have time to feel weird about two things at once. “Full disclosure, I didn’t know who Julie was until yesterday. She came to the house and told me that her mom knew my dad. She used to be his secretary, they had an affair, and then came Julie.”

Eddie’s eyes are blown as wide as they can possibly be. “Holy shit. What the fuck? I need a second. Jesus Christ. How are you not freaking out more about this right now?”

“Who says I’m not?” 

Eddie goes to sit on one of the chairs, Steve goes to take the one next to him. “You have a sister.”

“I have a sister.” Each time he says those words it becomes more of a fact than a surprise. “I have no idea what I’m doing, or how to do it. I’m trying to stay calm about everything but,” Steve takes another deep breath, still feeling like it isn’t quite enough. “My dad was a cheater, I’ve known that for a long time but this. This is a whole new angle of shit that I don’t know how to deal with.”

“How can you? Siblings don’t just come popping up out of nowhere, especially not as old as she is.” Eddie turns to look at him, tucking one of his legs underneath him. “Wayne heard about her mom from one of our old neighbors. Is that why she knows?”

Steve shakes his head. “Her mom told her sometime before the accident. She’s been in foster care ever since.”  

“You have that look on your face,” Eddie says with a soft gaze. 

“What look?”

“The look that you get when you want to help people. You want to help her.”

Steve leans back in the chair. “I do. She looked so scared when I offered to drive her back to her foster home last night. Said she didn’t like it there.”

“I was placed in foster care once before Wayne officially took me in,” Eddie admits, playing with a loose thread on his jeans. “It wasn’t the greatest. From what I’ve heard, most of the placements are pretty good, but there are some people out there who are just in it for the money and can be giant pieces of shit. I’m not saying that she’s in one of those homes, but I’m not saying she isn’t either. What I can say, is that she’s probably missing her mom a hell of a lot right now. They were really close from what I could tell, and losing someone like that hurts, a lot.”

Steve remembers Eddie mentioning once that his mom died when he was little. He never brought it up again and neither did Steve, not wanting to linger on tough topics. But even though it was so long ago, the pain is still there in his voice, just slightly. But Steve still notices it. 

He reaches across, placing his hand on top of Eddie’s. In a comforting way, not to mean anything. But Eddie still sighs a bit at the touch and turns his hand to hold Steve’s. 

“Just be patient with her, ok. She’s a good kid. Be patient with yourself too. This might not be some big alternate dimension life-changing shit, but it’s still real. You’re allowed to let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling about this.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

“No, I’ve been spending too much time with you. Only way to know that you think about everyone else except for yourself. Promise me you’ll take a moment to think of yourself.”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I’ll try.”

“Not a promise, but I’ll take it.”

He figures it’s probably been long enough that they’ve left Julie alone with Robin. Not like leaving her alone with him would be better, he still knows nothing about her. But when he reenters the kitchen, Eddie follows behind him, Robin’s not there.”

“Where’d Robin go?”

“To change,” Julie says with a shrug, picking at the last of her food. 

Robin comes barreling down the stairs with her backpack, which she throws at Eddie while heading to the sink to fill her water bottle. “The fuck was that for?” Eddie asks with a wince.

“You two took too long talking, I’m late.” She downs the rest of her coffee and places her mug in the sink. “Come on, you’re taking me to work,” she shoves Eddie towards the door, not bothering to do it again when he doesn’t move that much. 

“See ya, Julie.” Eddie heads for the door, throwing Robin’s backpack over his shoulder. Steve follows him. “She looks like you. I didn’t notice that before, but she does,” he whispers to Steve while Robin puts her shoes on.

Robin gasps. “Oh my god, she does.” She stands up and grabs her bag from Eddie. “Good luck, don’t scare her off, don’t be too awkward, and just talk to her like a normal person.”

“Thanks for the advice,” he deadpans.

“Love you, dingus. Bye.” She leaves the door open for Eddie on her way out. 

Eddie stands with his hand on the doorknob before looking back at Steve. “Not to sound pushy or anything but, are we still on for later or not?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve shrugs. “Maybe, just not what we planned it to be.”

“Munson, move your ass,” Robin yells, hanging out of the passenger side car of the door. 

“I’m coming, Jesus. Call me later ok. I don’t care if we have to cancel, you have other things going on right now.”

Steve nods. “I will, promise.”

Eddie smiles at him, making Steve’s stomach do a flip he’s still not quite used to. “That you promise to, huh? Talk to you later, Steve.”

. . . 

Julie sits at the island, not quite sure why she’s still here. She’s still not exactly sure why she came here yesterday, not even fully believing the excuse she gave Steve. Sure he had a right to know that his dad had another kid. But maybe it would have been better to do it in a letter. That way he could decide if he wanted to find her, instead of her finding him. 

It’s still weird to her, that Steve Harrington was her brother. She didn’t know much about him other than school rumors. By the time she got to high school, he had already stepped out of the popularity spotlight. She remembers hearing about the King who fell, but after seeing him in person around the people he seems to be friends with, that doesn’t look like it. 

To be honest, everything she could have possibly known about him was shattered the moment Eddie Munson walked through the door. He was in her circle, not his. They would have never interacted in school. But now that she thinks about it, she remembers seeing Steve a few times at the trailer park visiting the Mayfeilds, especially around spring break. Maybe they got to know each other then. 

A part of her wants to leave, get the burden of her off of his plate. He didn’t have to know her just because they were related, neither did she. That wasn’t her plan. The plan, no matter how little she actually thought about it, was to find him, tell him, and leave. But then he had to offer to let her stay the night. 

Normally, she wouldn’t have taken it, but it was too good to give up. There was someone else in the house so it wasn’t just the two of them, and it gave her an excuse to stay away from that hell house as long as possible. And he seemed like a good person, he was nothing but nice to her so far. But nice was sometimes a facade, so she kept her guard up. 

But if Eddie Munson was his friend, maybe Julie could afford to let her guard down a little. Just a little bit. 

Steve walks back into the kitchen after walking Robin and Eddie out. “Are you done with that?” he asks, pointing to the plate in front of her. There’s a half-eaten pancake on it, even though she only grabbed two. He doesn’t say anything about it, though.

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” She slides the plate forward and he takes it away, putting it with his own in the sink.

How is she even going to go about this, getting to know him? She hates getting to know new people. Just stating the same five facts over and over again until maybe there was a similarity between them and that’s it. Is she just going to share her favorite color and leave?

Something about her doesn’t want to. Something wants to stay and try to find some sort of connection with Steve. Whether that be acquaintances or otherwise. He’s the only family she has left, and something about that fact makes her never want to leave. 

“So,” Steve starts slowly, leaning on the island. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not exactly sure where to start.”

“Me neither,” She admits, anxiously picking at her thumb. It’s a nervous habit she’s never seemed to break, sometimes picking at it enough for them to bleed. Her mom always tried to stop her but it never worked. 

Uncomfortable silence hangs in the air for what feels like forever, but is probably just a minute, maybe two. “Eddie said you lived down the street from him,” Steve says, breaking their silence. 

“Yeah, across the street and two doors down.” She tries to think of what to say, as if it has to have any meaning behind it. But maybe if they just get talking, that’s all that matters. “We didn’t talk much, just a few times at potlucks and things. But when I first got to high school, he showed me around, drove me when I missed the bus and didn’t want to walk home.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah that sounds like him. Surprised he didn’t try to ‘bring you into his flock’ or whatever he calls them.”

“He might have, but DND isn’t really my thing. I like writing my own stories, not playing in someone else’s.”

“You like to write,” Steve asks, walking around to sit on one of the chairs, turning to face her. 

Julie nods, bringing one of her legs up so she can sit on it to face him better. “Short stories, sometimes poetry, but I’m not great at making things rhyme. It’s fun.”

“That’s cool, I’ve never been good at writing like that. Or at all.”

“What were you good at? Or are, I guess.”

Slight shock quickly covers his face, like he’s surprised that she asked him a question about himself. “I used to play basketball in high school, and I was on the swim team. I was decent at best, but I liked it. One of the kids I babysit started playing basketball last year, so I’ve been playing with him sometimes. Kinda forgot how much I liked it until then.”

“You babysit, like look over other people’s kids?” She didn’t pin him as the babysitting type. 

“Well, I say babysit but it’s not really babysitting. Like, they’re old enough to take care of themselves and everything, but we’ve been through some stuff together so I like to keep an eye on them. They’re kinda like the family I wished I had.”

The family he wishes he had, said like he barely had a family at all. She thinks back to the lack of family pictures in the house. With all of this wall space, it’s weird for them to be left blank when they could be filled. Poster families are supposed to have posters showing off how good they are. But the walls, the house, stay vacant. And the way Steve talks about these kids, it seems to have been like that for a long time. 

Giant houses are nice, but empty all they do is sit there and show off the wrong type of wealth. Loneliness almost seeps through the walls when she notices the lack of life. Nothing to give it character, the only person leaving traces behind is Steve. 

Last night she was jealous that Steve could live in such a big house when she lived in a trailer. But she’d take that over and over again if it meant she wouldn’t be alone. 

“You must love them,” Julie finally says. 

Steve smiles, it’s probably the first time she’s seen it and it wasn’t fake. “As much as they annoy the hell out of me, I do.”

“Robin seemed nice.” He seems to talk more when it’s about other people, so she changes the topic to her. “You guys seem close.”

“We are. And before you ask if we’re dating, we’re not.”

“I was questioning that a little, but I thought it would be rude to ask.”

He shrugs. “People ask me it pretty much every day. One particular person specifically. You can ask me anything though, I’m pretty much an open book.”

Before she gets the chance to think of something else, someone knocks on the front door. Steve looks both confused and annoyed before he gets up to go see who it is. She hears them talking for a minute or two before Steve walks back into the room with a sorry expression, a man in a police uniform behind him. 

“Julie, this is Chief Hopper.”

“I’m here to take you back, kid,” Hopper interrupts. 

Coldness fills Julie up as she thinks about that place. Loud noises through thin walls, insults being thrown around, two kids she doesn’t know that she has to take care of. Just so Janice and Mark can get drunk off their asses from the pay and never lift a finger for anything about them. It’s only a matter of time before things get worse, she can tell. It’s the same behavior she’s seen with every boyfriend her mom has ever had. 

“I-I don’t want to.”

Hopper steps toward her and takes off his hat, placing it on the island. “I’m sure you don’t. But they are your guardians for the time being and called you in as a missing kid, so you have to go back.”

She looks over at Steve but is met with just a silent apology. That he’s giving up. She really shouldn’t be mad but she is. He let her stay because she said she didn’t like it there, and now he’s just willing to let her go back. Without a word to try and stop it. 

Getting up from the chair, making it squeak against the floor that is probably way too fucking expensive, she heads upstairs to grab her things. Feet stomping on the stairs like they have a mind of their own. She’s not even sure where the anger she feels is directed. But she can’t help to think it’s at herself for thinking she might actually be able to have some sort of family again. 

. . . 

When Julie leaves the room, Steve is just left there defeated. He tried to say something, but Hopper said there was no way out of it. She spent the night away from her foster house and they called it in, she had to go back. 

“Can you explain to me why she’s here?” Hopper asks acusingly. 

“They’d have to have told you if you knew to find her here.”

Hopper looks at the ceiling with a deep sigh. “Just told me she’d probably be here, not why. You’re not in any trouble, I know you wouldn’t try anything. So can you just please tell me why you have a random sixteen-year-old girl in your house.”

“She’s my sister,” Steve sighs. “My dad had an affair with her mom and then he paid her to keep it quiet. Julie told me everything last night.”

“Well, shit. That’s, something.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah. Is there really no way she can stay here, even if it’s just for the rest of the day.”

“Look kid,” Hopper sighs. “I know you like to help the kids, but this is a lot different than that. Those parents trust you to look after them because they know you, these people don’t. And I’m not so sure they ever will. The fact is that you just learned about all of this yesterday and jumped into everything headfirst. Take some time, think about it.”

“I can’t just go around and pretend that none of this happened. I want to get to know her, Hop.”

“And I never said that you couldn’t. Just no more overnight stays and make sure she gets back by curfew. Don’t make me have to come back here again.”

Julie slams the door of the guest room before she comes back downstairs. Hopper gives Steve a sympathetic look before picking his hat back up and heading to the front door, Steve following after. 

“Julie, I’m sorry, I tried-,” Steve tries to explain. 

“Just save it, I know.” She looks at him with a cold glare that only fills him with shame. “Nice meeting you, Steve.” 

Hopper opens the door, letting Julie go out first. “Good luck with that,” he says before shutting the door behind him. 

. . .

October 1986, Two Weeks Prior

When Julie wakes up, her mom’s not there. Not like that’s unusual, sometimes she works early morning shifts at the diner before heading to her secretary job. She normally tells her about that, but last night she said nothing. Or maybe she did in her rush out the door to her late-night shift. 

Why would she work a late night and an early morning though? She’s never done it before. And considering the tips are shit and the pay is worse, she wouldn’t put herself through that. So where is she?

Julie checked around the trailer again, making sure the cot was still in the living room and that no one was in the bathroom. Checks outside to see if her mom’s car was there, and around back to make sure it wasn’t there either. Not a trace of her mother to be found anywhere. 

Going back into the house, she dials the number of the diner to check if her mom’s there. One waiter answers, saying he hasn’t seen her all morning. 

Worry fills Julie, this isn’t like her mom. Not anymore. She doesn’t go out at night anymore. Promising Julie that she wouldn’t. Her mom had broken a few promises in the past, but this was not one that she would. 

At least that’s what Julie hopes. 

An hour later, her mom is still nowhere to be seen. She calls the office she works at to see if she showed up for her shift, nothing. As she’s dialing 911 to see if they can go around different bars to try and find her, she hears a car pulling up in front of her trailer. Followed by two doors slamming shut. 

Her heart is beating out of her chest as she goes to answer the door when they knock, opening to find two police officers waiting there with solemn looks on their faces. 

“Hello, miss. My name is Officer Powell and this is Officer Callahan. Are you Julie Lawson, Rebecca Lawson’s daughter.?”

“Yes,” she responds with a shaky voice. 

Powell and Callahan share a glance before turning back to her. “Could we come in, we have some unfortunate news about your mom.”

Her heart drops as she lets them in, already planning to hear the worst. 

“You might want to sit down for this,” Callahan says, pulling over one of the kitchen chairs to sit in, making himself at home. 

“Last night, police were called to a motor vehicle accident scene over on Oak Street. A driver ran off the road and hit a tree. They identified her as your mom. She was rushed to the hospital, but as of this morning, we are sorry to say she passed.”

Tears flood Julie’s eyes as she tries to blink them back, but can’t. They fall down her face as her mind races to catch up to reality. The room blurs and she can’t hear anything over the beating of her own heart. She feels as if her soul has left her body, watching her from the outside instead of in. 

“We are so sorry, Julie,” Powell continues. “We have no idea how you must be feeling right now, but if you would like to talk to a counselor about this, we can help arrange that for you.”

Julie gapes, trying to say something but nothing will come out. She shuts her mouth and swallows, trying to calm herself down enough to say something. “What, what will happen to me?” she asks with a trembling voice. 

“You’ll be placed in child protective services, they’ll try and find some family for you to stay with or find you a foster home,” Callahan explains.

“We know that this is a lot for you to take in right now. But we need you to go and pack a bag. You can come back in a few days to get the rest of your things, but you need to come with us. We’ll give you some space while you pack, take as long as you need.”

“Just not too long,” Callahan interrupts. 

“Phil,” Powell sighs, glaring at him. “Don’t listen to him, take as long as you need and meet us outside when you're ready.”

Powell stands, pulling Callahan up and ushering him out of the door. He shuts it gently behind him and Julie can hear him chastizing Callahan behind it. 

Julie leans back on the couch, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, attempting not to break just there. But she does. Tears stream down her face as her breaths become labored and shaky. Her hand comes to cover her mouth as she sobs, covering up her pain. 

Her mom is gone. The only family, the only life she’s ever known. The person who was there for her no matter what. The person who knows her better than anyone else in the entire world. Taken from her without warning. 

And now Julie is left alone. 

Part 3

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17, @i-amthepizzaman

[fushiguroshotwife]

NAMI HEADCANONS

Ever since you and Nami got into a relationship she always would get sorta nervous around you like the kind of nervous that feels really really awkward and nerve wracking to be around, of course she's screaming half the time on the crew and beating others asses and maybe even yours she's still a nervous wreck sometimes and that's the real reason why she looks away off into the distance and and does just little glances at you once or twice..

Shes a jealous gal half the time and doesn't like to admit it at all that she has a huge fear of you leaving her alone so I'd say she's very clingy yet never showed that to you which makes you sad to think of it.

Nami's no stranger to knowing the arts of pleasing men, of course she's done it in the past with multiple men—for money and gold of course. Although when it comes to you, she's sort of shy but not a cute shy but more of "fuuck damn bittttch! " in her head while she wants to hit you so hard, she's a very nervous woman, which she never knew until you came into her world.

Aside from being nervous half the time and a real tsundere; Nami loves to tease you, she's literally the queen of teasing either if you're on top of her, she loves to tease you and change her voice too, even though you'd say "oh stop, you're normal voice is suducing enough for me!" cluckles would escape from your lips as she hits you softy kinda lovingly in a way.

(N/sfw part)

Nami hates it so much when you're with other girls even though they're just captain monkey D. Luffy's allys, she does like it when you "touch her" but when she's jealous she'd make you touch her in new places you haven't even gotten to yet.

When Nami rides you she would touch you all over your body with her hands wondering all around your body making you moan deeply as you let her with a smirk on her face and a grin on yours, your head bops up and down when she's the one doing the work, your Adams apple bopping as she moves beautifully.

She loves leaving marks on your body, your neck, purple hickeys on your stomach, ear, on the bridge of your sides, and so many more, she leaves lipstick stains on your face, and your crew mates would even joke about it from time to time, like Zoro " you two really don't have any shame, do you? " and he's laugh it off, he never really cared at all when the whole crew found out you were dating, but at this point, everyone can hear the moaning grunting sounds made in your bedroom, but sometimes he does laugh it off.

FUSHIGUROSHOTWIFE2023/2024™ all rights reserved, do not translate, copy, use my layouts or ideas, do not repost my work even on different sites, do not steal any of my work. Do not claim any of my work as yours, like shit ain't nice.

[iamthecomet]

Mushy May Day 6

Picnic (Ft. Murder Ghoulettes) Pairing: Cirrus/Cumulus Rating: M for Murder Featuring: The girls deserve a picnic every once in a while. Murder ghoulettes. Blood. Kissing. Ghoulettes in love. Word Count: 700+ Read it under the cut, or on AO3.

The sister is pretty. A petite thing, with curves that would usually make Cirrus’ mouth go dry. She drags her fingers through her golden hair and smiles at Cumulus like she’s the moon. She’s Cumulus’ type. Naive. Trusting. Excitable.

Cirrus stands back, watches. She likes to watch. Likes to see the way Cumulus leans in, smiles wide and bright. How she bounces on her toes as they talk. The girl mirrors her enthusiasm, face breaking out into a wide grin as Cumulus reaches out to touch her.

“We’re going for a picnic,” Cumulus purrs at her. Big eyes trained on the sister, smile widening. “We’d love if you joined us.”

The picnic basket in Cirrus’ hand is empty. The girl doesn’t need to do know that.

It’s a short walk. Far enough into the orchard that they can’t see the Abbey anymore. Far enough that if the girl gets a chance to scream no one will hear her. She won’t get the chance though. Cumulus never lets them see it coming. Cirrus can’t decide if Cumulus does it out of mercy—or if she just likes the way their faces drop in surprise.

She’d bet on the latter.

It’s easy. It’s always easy. The girl tags along like a puppy, her hand pressed into Cumulus’. Giggling at the attention, grinning back at Cirrus like she’s in for the best night of her life—like she has never been happier.

Cirrus would maybe feel bad about it if she wasn’t so hungry.   She coos, reaching out to stroke her fingers along the delicate line of the girl’s jaw. Feeling the flutter of her pulse beneath her fingers. The girl blushes, deep pink flushing over freckled cheeks. She smells like honeysuckle.

Cirrus’ mouth is already watering. The kill is quick. It always is. The buildup is the long part. The soft way Cumulus and Cirrus touch her, the way they look at her as they lay the blanket down. The way Cumulus curls around her and points up to the apple blossoms on the tree. Presses fleeting kisses into her golden hair, nuzzles her nose against that fluttering pulse.

Then there’s blood. Arterial spray. And the girl is dropping limp into Cumulus’ arms. When Cumulus pulls away her lips are carmine.

Cirrus can’t help but kiss her. Can’t help but sweep her tongue over Cumulus’ plush lower lip and taste the last moments of that Sibling’s happiness against her flesh.

The rest is methodic, an easy rhythm they fall into without speaking. When they’ve had their fill they lay under the early spring sun, warm and satiated.

Cirrus could stay here forever. She would if she didn’t have a job, duties. If Papa wouldn’t come looking for them after a while. This, she’s sure, is the closest a hell beast can get to heaven. Cumulus’ body is pressed tight to hers, soft and pliant under her fingers. Their tails curled together, heads resting against each other as they lay on the blanket and look up at the cloudless sky. She raises Cumulus’ fingers to her lips and kisses the blood from them. Cumulus turns her head and laughs softly into Cirrus’ dark hair.

“I love these days with you,” Cumulus sighs.

“We could have more of them,” Cirrus offers even though she knows it isn’t true. Only so many disappearances can be swept under the rug. It will be a month or more before they can do this again. Before Cirrus can kiss the blood splattered over Cumulus’ neck. Before she can feel like this, sun warm and full, and at ease. Cumulus purrs against her, pulling her closer. Cirrus’ toes graze over blood slick grass as she shifts. “Next time, you can pick,” Cumulus promises. Cirrus shakes her head. She presses a kiss between Cumulus’ horns.

“You have better taste,” Cirrus lies. In reality, Cirrus thinks they have equally good taste. Different. Cumulus likes them innocent, happy, drugged on their own happy hormones before she kills them. Cirrus likes the opposite, a little fear, a little anger, the taste of their adrenaline bursting over her tongue. But really, she’d rather watch Cumulus do the killing. Loves to watch her work, the way she touches, the way she smiles. How her body moves when she’s getting ready. Loves to watch the blood drip down Cumulus’ chin, and smear across her cheeks.

Cirrus doesn’t need to pick, doesn’t need to chase, doesn’t need their fear as long as she can watch Cumulus work.

She’s never seen anything so beautiful.

Cumulus scoffs, knows the truth, but doesn’t try to push against it, doesn’t try to argue or insist. Cirrus can feel her grin against her neck, feels the slight prick of her fangs as she drags her teeth under Cirrus’ jaw. “You spoil me.”

Cirrus nods. “Always.”

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hi, I don't know if I'm doing this right but can I request the lines, ❛ do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜ and, ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ for Trickster? Have a nice day :)

I know it was suppose to be smut lines but the horror of the call of the abyss got me i also have no idea what embalmer's personality is lol i tired

Rated Mature | Warning: monster reader (pitch black level sort of)

The one called ‘Trickster’ is the one you find to be strange. The attempt to keep the other’s humanity in check by being humorous is different from the seriousness of others in the group who have ventured here. Here being your nest, your paradise, they call it the Nether or the Abyss. You never gave this place a name, you are not sure what to call it when you created it from the bones of those who lived in this mansion. Abyss is rather catchy, and threatening. Nether sounds like a limbo, something but nothing all at once. You watch as they go forth, cautious, hyperaware of the surroundings. You hate when fools enter your home, as the place has parts of you everywhere, and you are very much aware of their presence. The shadows of your power, the darkness that consumes the light when it is gifted freely.

Humans, you tilt your head to the side before returning your vision to the current area your body rests in. Yes, a body, this flesh long ago corrupted, you always wondered if you were human.

Or maybe you made this to be human?

With no memories, you will never know. Not that it matters, nothing matters so long as you have peace in your home.

A peace that is being disturbed. You pet the tendril of darkness, you look at the glass around the room watching as the group is running away from a creature that made its home here. You do not mind neighbors, they keep the peace when you do not feel like putting in effort. What was that one called? She has pretty eyes reminding you of a cat… Hmm, whatever. You sit on the ground as the tendril disappears and the room is once again hollow as you are. The glass around the room shifts to different sights where the human group trying to escape the peacekeeper, the peepers keep you informed of their locations.

“I want that one.” Pointing to the man with a coat that is worn improperly. Why does he bother to wear in such a manner? The tendrils in the room shift as it glows a dull blue, your command transmitted to the peacekeeper. She will play with the others and the rooms will shift to bring you the one called ‘Trickster’.

“No killing. Taste only.” You are not hungry today and will allow them to leave but your taint will stain them as a warning to any who wish to be foolish, “Play with them outside in the garden.”

Peacekeeper stops to turn to the peeper then nods before returning to the hunt.

He is rather small. Are all humans this small? They seem bigger when you are watching them. He is on the ground bleeding out a bit, he should not tried to resist. You stand tall above him, the swirls of your power must be intimating for he has not stopped shaking. You lean down with your hand reached out with a blue glow around it.

“Ah!” Moving away but a tendril stops him by gripping his ankle. He reaches behind him but stops when another tendril is at his throat, the sharp tip pressing against his Adam’s apple. A warning before you say it. It moves away when he brings his hands up to show he will not do anything.

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up.” Monotone, “I am only going to take your pain away.”

“Don’t touch me!” He is afraid, all humans are yet they some many stupid things that put themselves in positions of fear.

You inhale the scent before sighing in the form of annoyance, “Do you think you’re in a position to give orders?” Pressing your hand on the wound, you make sure it hurts a bit more than you first intended. He grabs your wrists with both of his hands, his blood and body are warm something you have not felt in a long time. “Foolish thing.” He squirms then stops as the pain is gone. The gash on his side is gone as if it was never there! He touches it, pokes it, then looks at you with wide eyes. ��You do not need to thank me.”

“Didn’t plan to,” He stares at you, “Are you corrupted?”

“Corrupted?” Crouching down to his level so he would not crane his neck to look at you, “No.”

“But you look human.”

“And you look like a fool, does that mean you are a fool?” The man looks rather offended by those words, “No, I was born like this.” Then you look away from the glass to see the peacekeeper has allowed the group to escape. “You will leave and not return. The next time you enter this place I shall keep you.” The words he might have said are silence by the mist of darkness that removes him from both your sight and your home. Once more peace, yet, you look at your hand covered with his blood and feel… Melancholy. As if you lost something you cannot quite place. Maybe you were hungry?

[sweetcocopowder]

Playing Couple Pt.2

「Synopsis 」 : Dean is getting restless but he finds out that Cas has made some friends that could further their investigation for the good.

「Word count」 : 1/49K

-> Genre: Supernatural Fluff

Paring: Dean Winchester / Castiel

[Warnings] : Cas wearing normal clothes

Note: Sorry this part is a little slow, setting up for the next part

| M.List | Pt. 1 | Pt. 3

The next day came by quickly and Dean found himself bored waiting around already. Castiel had somehow convinced him that he would go out and grocery shop for him. Dean tried to preoccupy himself inside on the TV or checking up on the protection around the house. But Cas had already checked everything over and nothing was on TV or anything on a binging sight that looked interesting. So, Dean decided an hour ago to clean Baby even though she wasn’t due for a clean.

He wears a singlet instead of all the layers he usually has on to wash the car. He’s noticed a few of neighbours come out to inspect their garden, stare at Dean for a while then head back inside. Or one of them brought out their bin out early to have a look at their new neighbour. Dean feels exposed out in the neighbourhood, not liking how everyone wants to get in on the new gossip.

Yes, there’s always gossip in the hunter circle. On whom killed what, how many one hunter has killed or who has betrayed who and the list goes on. But neighbourhood gossip is different. Dean can ditch a hunter and never see their face again if he didn’t like them. You’re stuck with your neighbours, and they’re stuck with you.

Castiel comes back just as Dean finishes up. He caught the public bus in to not raise suspicion since he wasn’t allowed to drive Baby. Dean made that very aware. Cas walks from up the street where the bus stop was with bags of groceries in hand that would normally stop a human in their tracks.

“How are things, honey?” Cas asks him casually.

It takes Dean a moment to remind himself it’s an act, and that they’re outside with watching eyes. He’ll have to get use to it, but it feels like he won’t.  

“Just finished up here,” Dean answers back awkwardly. “You need help?” He asks, even though he knows that Cas doesn’t need the help.

But Cas says, “Yes, that would be lovely.”

He holds out one hand that holds at least four bags. Dean takes two bags in each hand so he doesn’t pop his shoulder out. He follows Cas inside with a grunt with how heavy one of the bags are. Once inside, he quickly plops them on the counter and looks inside the bags. The bag that was weighing Dean down as two cartons of milk in it with orange juice and-

“You got me beer?” Dean says a little too happily, grabbing the warm six pack out.

“Yes,” Cas says as he begins unpacking the bags. “I know you like a beer with your greasier foods.”

It touches Dean but he doesn’t let it show. He gives a rough, “Thank you,” instead.

Cas takes the six pack off of Dean and puts it in the fridge for later tonight. Dean sits at the counter and watches the angel put everything in their rightful place.

“Anything happen while you were out?” Dean asks once Cas finishes.

Cas hesitates before saying a not so confident, “No.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at that, “What happened? Did you run into what we’re hunting?”

Castiel leans on the counter. “I had a bit of trouble getting the last apple pie that was there,” he says.

“You didn’t beat anyone up did you?”

The angel is silent.

“Cas,” Dean says firmly.

“I may have snatched the last apple pie out of a man’s basket while he wasn’t looking,” he replies with a shrug.

That gets a short laugh out of Dean, a smile spreading across his face. “Cas, you can’t go stealing other people’s groceries,” he says seriously but light heartedly.

“It’s not stealing if he hasn’t bought it yet,” Cas argues.

Dean can’t say anything back. Because the angel has a fair point. But it still isn’t right to do, but he can’t stop the angel from doing some of the stuff he does. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch sometimes.  

“Any updates on the creature?” Dean asks.

“Unfortunately, not,” Cas replies with a slight shake of his head.

The hunter groans and paces into the living room then back to the kitchen. “I can’t sit around like this, Cas,” he groans.

“It’s what we have to do,” Cas says. “You can try gardening. Anything to make us look like normal people on the neighbourhood.”

“Gardening!?” Dean snaps. “Do I look like I garden?”

“It was just a suggestion, Dean.”

-

Two days go by before a knock on their door has Dean jumping off the couch. Castiel took the gardening around the house since he has nothing else to do. Dean has just been mopping about this entire time. But the knock has Dean running to the door. He opens it a little too eagerly and is a little taken a back when a middle-aged woman stands there with a large smile on her chubby face. She’s short and stocky with a thick set of hair on her head. It’s short and frizzy, looking like it’s just been washed. She looks Hispanic but she might also have some Italian in her as well.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to bother you,” she says with a thick Hispanic accent. “Is Castiel in?”

Dean is a little taken a back. “Yeah, he’s out the back.”

“Oh, could you grab him please. I would like to ask him something,” she tells him, the smile never leaving her face.

“What is your name?” Dean asks.

“Gabriella.”

“Dean. I’ll grab him.” He introduces himself.

Dean closes the door and goes to fetch Cas. The angel is currently in the garden, trying to dig up all the weeds and replanting the flowers and other stuff that came with the house. The angel has changed from his suit and trench coat, and it is immensely weird to see him in normal clothes. He wears a white button up shirt with blue jeans. It reminds Dean of when he turned human for a while. He will never get use to seeing the angel in said, ‘human clothes’. Dean on the other hand just wears what he normally wears.

“Cas,” Dean says, grabbing his attention. “There’s a woman called Gabriella wanting you?”

The angel perks up at that. “Is she needing help with her cat again?”

“What? No?” Dean spits out a little too quickly.

Castiel takes his gardening gloves off and wipes his hands on his jeans. “She say anything else?” He asks.

“No, who is she?”

“She’s not the thing we’re hunting, Dean,” Cas has to tell him sternly. “I helped her with her cat down the street yesterday.”

“A cat?”

“Yes,” the angel says he walks back inside the house.

Dean follows him to the front door where Gabriella is still waiting. Her face lights up again at seeing the angel.

“Oh, Castiel! How are you!” Gabriella says cheerfully.

“I’m going good,” he responds.

Dean shuffles in beside Cas so he isn’t out of the conversation. An arm snaking around Dean’s waist makes him stiffen up and he has to not outwardly react to the foreign feeling. But Cas acts so natural, bringing Dean in closer because he knows that the hunter wants to listen in. They’re so close that Dean can smell the dirt and grass on the angel.

“I want to invite you to dinner on Thursday night. I have other friends on the neighbourhood that are coming,” Gabriella invites them. “I think it would be good for you two to meet other people that are here. Get settled in more,” she adds.

Getting to know everyone. That would benefit their job way more than sitting here doing nothing. Before Dean can agree, Cas is already.

“That sounds great. We’ll be there,” Castiel says, squeezing Dean’s side.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, you can come around seven. You don’t need to bring anything but yourselves,” Gabriella cheers lightly. “I’ll be seeing you Thursday if I don’t see you around before then.”

Then she’s off with a wave. She kinda waddles down the driveway and down the street. As soon as Cas closes the door, Dean is pushing himself out of the angel’s grip. Cas is a little offended but it’s to be expected. But Dean doesn’t snap at him for holding him.

“This is good! Right?” Dean celebrates this small win.

“We don’t know if the creature will be there,” Cas says, not wanting to have some hope and then they’re let down.

“Yes, I know I know,” Dean waves his hand. “But it’s a win.”

Thursday is three days away. Dean just has to put up with three more days of this shit before then. Oh, this job could finally be over and done with before the week ends. It’ll go smoothly and they’ll be back at the bunker to search for a more eventful job.

Oh, how Dean, is completely wrong on that.

-

Do not steal, plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape or form.

Masterlist

NAV

[xxdovelin]

Origin story for my character VOID, from No More Kings.

---

She stood across the fence, trying to be fierce.

“You can’t make me afraid.”

Everyone already was. That wasn’t hard.

A rock crushed the fence post. She pretended not to flinch.

“I’m only asking for your help.”

The fence flew into the sky and twisted. Wide eyes didn’t dare look up.

“Please, just once. I know you can."

The apple tree beside us shook and the roots gave way.

“It would be easy to you, just a second.”

The orchard was next. Part of the hayfield went with it.

She was on the other side of the fence. When had she moved? Time was hazy sometimes.

“I know it was an accident.”

Then she touched my cheek.

Miles away I felt the drill suddenly stop, the hillside shuddering. Families who cared only for their own sobbed. It had been three days already. I could hear them whispering: miners were sure to be out of oxygen soon. Four counties had combined efforts; forty men and two drills down, and now the third had finally seemed to give in as well.

“It would be easy to you. Just one second. Please.”

Then a miner walked out from a perfect hole.

The rock I took had to go somewhere so I put it where the apple tree had been. It appeared with a dusting of earth.

For a moment, she was crying. Not cutely, like I thought girls did. She snotted and sobbed and I think she tried to say “Thank you” but it just came out in a scream of relief-

Then the days flashed on. Fast and feverish, the moon making a halo in the sky with the sun blinding behind it, the universe rotating around me. Everything was brighter now, with the apple tree gone.

I wondered who the girl was.

“What happened. In the accident.”

I didn’t know how to say it. Or where to start. Her clothes were different, hair a bit longer now, cascading. There were less freckles now and the hay fields were all stacked behind her. Time.

“Have you asked that before?”

No one had asked that before.

My throat felt dry. She seemed pleased.

“Yes. Everyday.”

I didn’t remember.

She was gone again.  I thought about how to tell her as the sun blinked by. It was slowing down, a good sign. What had happened back then, in the accident? What was before the accident?

I remembered my hands were smaller. And the trees, they seemed taller. I would hide under them, pressed down in the dirt while the angry voice called through the woods. The world was so steady then. Time pulsed along with my heart and I could watch the slow march of stars through the branches. The voice would fade with dawn, my father back in his chair when I came home.

Townspeople called the angry voice the woodland ghost: the ghost everyone knew, who worked two blocks down in the lone mechanic shop.

“How much longer?”

She seemed older again. I wondered by how much. The clothes changed as I considered, light fading and growing behind her. Tall grains sprouted in the fields.

“Not much more.”

I think she smiled and I watched the rolling waves of her hair grow in front of me.

“What happened in the accident?”

I tried to tell her, but the days were so fragmented. How far apart were my words? Did she have to catch each word, day by day? What if she wasn’t there, when it fell? I worried and tried to pace myself with the light. I wanted to make sense.

No one had ever asked me before.

“My father drank- Mother didn’t know- she was working in the city-”

He was so ashamed; he tried to drown the feeling, but the feeling overflowed like it always does  and the door would burst open, remaints of tables and chairs flying.

“I think we were alike.”

I couldn’t brave his storm, so I watched stars instead. Each night the woods grew smaller as the voice torn them down. I wondered why he searched for me, but the thought kept me in dirt, feet firmly on the ground, gravity.

Eventually only the apple tree had been left, lone on the hill.

“I was waiting for mom to come back.”

So many days.

“Then one day father said--”

He lied.

“-- and I got angry.”

I’m sure he was lying.

Probably.

She did come back, afterall. Mom came back just once. Her image had flashed by the house in the woods. But I was on the hill, beneath the apple tree.

Then mother was gone for good.

Perhaps he’d been right.

“He was driving. We were in the truck. I did something. The trees broke along with the road, all the metal caved in around us, and--”

And --

“-- and I was angry.”

I had never been angry before. Angry had only been the voice in the woods.

“I was so angry.”

Then father was gone for good.

“They called it an accident.”

The girl stood there. I could see the moon now, drifting as a comet.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Angela.”

“Do you know mine?” I’d forgotten.

“It’s Aiden. Is time back?”

I considered. The wind blew her hair. The moon was a shape I half knew.

“I think so.”

“Ok. No more magic, ok? It takes you away.”

Then she took me away.

She took me to her apartment, a too-small box where she lived. She made me try on too-big, hand-me-down clothes. I didn’t have any. She made dinner but I found I couldn’t eat. We went to bed but I found I couldn’t sleep. I could remember sleep; I could remember the dance of branches that use to lure me there. The stars crawled past the window. I missed the woods. Or at least the land on which they’d stood. But Angela explained the land had been bought. There was a new house there now, had been for awhile... I looked at her but couldn’t see the years.

“Five,” she said.

Seemed a long time, especially sitting through the days. How did I stand it before. Angela took me outside because the room, the bed, the clothes were too tight. Usually at night, for the space, for the bare town blocks. But even the grid of streets were too tight, breathing on me, lined with box buildings, louder and heavier than the apple tree or the fence. How did I stand it before. Cars inched slower than ants and the few people moved like moonlight along the streets. The moon itself failed to sway. Too much time for thinking. I could only think of what I could remember. I could only remember so much before the hill. Just the woods, vaguely, and the accident, a bit more.

I thought about the fireman who found us, in the truck.

I told Angela about the fireman. Angela told me no one ever found him.

I said the truck had turned over. I could see the chaos of land behind the cracked glass.  Angela told me they called it a landslide. The fireman dipped down into the truck, a shadow on the destroyed landscape. He reached for me, painfully, like a blossom unfolding, too slow to bear. I had looked around in my wait. Something was twisted next to me. It seemed days before my head was turned enough to see what had caught in the metal. I recognized my father’s watch. Then I was on the hill by the apple tree, forever.

I said, “I think I killed him.”

Angela said, “I know. It was an accident.”

Angela said, “Both of them.”

Her uncle was a fireman. He quit after his brother vanished before his eyes, along with a truck and half of a roadside. Doctors said trauma, but everyone said mad. He had a wife and two sons that left. But he still had a will and a niece, and the mine was always hiring.

“You saved him; him and a lot of others,” she whispered. “The stuff before was an accident. I know that now.”

END

-- original ending below tw character death --

Her eyes drifted over, catching a light. What was that look. I’d seen it before. But I didn’t get a chance to find out. A car was there, navy steel against her like a rock crushing a petal. It plucked her into the air, a pearl-stealing raven.

I was slow. The long days had slowed me.

She fell in my arms, the last piece of me fitting in place.

I could feel the strands of her hair slipping through my fingers, falling in the same way of snow, silky and frail. There were no screams when the car collapsed in on itself. No bodies left. Only Angela. But her eyes never opened, no matter how long I waited.

And I waited, waited til the skin blued and the ground beneath me crumbled to ashes, tiny bits of carbon, tiny bits of stars I knew made up everything.

How dare they exist when Angela did not.

Walls of the building streets bowled out, then vanished in a wave that swept away even sound. I watched it roll over the valley. Watched as it carried away trees then hills, then the hill, and the mine, the dust cloud travelling along the low horizon in every direction, kissed light by the moon. The sky looked brighter than day with the stars shining through the veil. They grew stronger with each city the wave consumed, the ring of earth expanding as far as the reach of my lungs. Land on land, clashing, marring the foot of mountains. Then, there was nothing; nothing but the stars, and the last look of her eyes as they closed.

The wave rolled back in an instant. I swallowed it whole, with all my grief, and her.

 ​