#and then it's just ... onto the next one. yaaay. :')

[fallingforfandoms]

@all-my-worlds-a-stage tagged me to share the last ten songs I listened to. Thanks - it's basically my writing soundtrack and it's just as chaotic as you might think 😂

Polvere - Giorgio Consolini

Salz auf unserer Haut - Santiano

Late Night Talking - Harry Styles

Houdini (Acoustic Tuesday Sessions) - Leslie Clio

Wild Grey Ocean - Sam Fender

No No Never - Texas Lightning

Die Bouzouki klang durch die Sommernacht - Vicky Leandros

Manchmal möchte ich schon mit dir - Roland Kaiser

With or Without You - U2

Dreaming To Fly - Andrea Vanzo

... aaaand I would also love to get a glimpse into what @mordsfesch @disappointingsalad @cinnamonbunsinmyhairr @khalaris & @krejong are listening to at the moment 👀 (no pressure though 😌)

[unclewaynemunson]

Wingman Wayne AU pt6 yaaay! | AO3 link

The next time Eddie sees Steve, he knows immediately that the thoughts that kept plaguing him late at night weren't induced by some weird chemical unbalance in his brain caused by eating too much cheese or taking one pill too many. No, those thoughts were very, very real. Because Steve is looking absolutely breathtaking in his stupid tight jeans and stupid green polo and with his stupid wild hair that Eddie just wants to run his fingers through and those goddamn stupid pink lips. Shit.

'Lookin' hot today, big boy,' Eddie blurts out before he can help himself.

A frown appears between Steve's stupidly perfect eyebrows. 'Don't do that, man,' he says, avoiding Eddie's gaze.

'What?' Eddie asks, as if he doesn't know exactly what Steve means: Don't mess up our Very Platonic friendship by getting feelings for me. That wasn't what we agreed upon. Well, it's already too late for that anyway. And honestly, whose fault is that? Exactly, it's the fault of Steve's stupid lips.

'You know what I mean,' Steve says. He's still not quite looking Eddie in the eyes and Eddie feels guilty immediately.

'Sorry,' he says. 'Won't happen again, friend.'

It's only awkward for a minute, until they're both sitting on the couch in the Munsons’ trailer and Eddie easily launches into a whole monologue giving Steve the latest gossip on Wayne's colleague Jimmy because he ran into Jimmy's wife at Melvald's, and he immediately gets reminded why it's so nice to have a queer friend, because, in contrast to Jeff or Gareth or even Wayne, Steve understands exactly what he means when he says “straight people” in a lamenting voice and doesn't get confused when he goes into a minutes-long rant about “straight culture.”

'Dude, stop, you're doing it again,' Steve suddenly interrupts him at some point.

Eddie stops mid-monologue to give Steve a confused stare. 'What?'

Steve nods towards the place where Eddie's hand is comfortably resting onto Steve's knee, fingers stretched all the way into his thigh. Like it belongs there, somehow. Like it’s something natural.

Eddie clears his throat as he pulls his hand away and crosses his arms to keep himself from unconsciously reaching out for Steve again. Is it really that bad to have me touch you? he wants to ask – but he doesn't, because he isn't a completely terrible friend.

'My sincerest apologies, comrade,' he says instead, before he picks up where he left off in his story, trying to act like nothing happened. But Steve doesn't really seem to listen anymore; his gaze keeps wandering away and he barely even shows any investment in the gossip that he usually loves so much.

'You okay, Stevie?' Eddie asks.

A blush starts creeping over Steve's cheeks.

'I don't know how to tell you this without making shit even more awkward,' he says, 'but you staring at my lips for like ten minutes on end is also part of the things you shouldn't be doing.'

Fuck. Eddie is pretty sure that his own cheeks are rapidly starting to reach a shade of red that matches Steve's. He wants to apologize, but somehow, the words get all mushed into something else while they make their way from his throat to his lips, and what comes out is, 'Is it really bothering you that much?'

Steve stares at his hands. 'Yes,' he says softly. 'Yes, it is.' He looks up at Eddie again, and there's a look in his eyes that Eddie doesn't quite recognize.

'Eddie – you were the one who insisted right from the start that nothing about me would attract you, remember?' he says. 'You were the one who proposed to be friends. And I was fine with that, because I wanted to be your friend, and I thought I could keep my feelings under control. So please don't make this any harder for me than it needs to be.'

Eddie's heart is suddenly beating in his throat, his hands sweaty.

'Jesus, Steve,' he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. 'I'm so sorry.' He stretches out his hand, gently letting it land on Steve's shoulder – but Steve immediately gets up from the couch, as if Eddie's touch is burning him.

'Don't,' he says, his voice suddenly cold with frustration. He starts pacing back and forth through the tiny living room. 'Now you're just being cruel.'

Shit. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. The memory of Wayne's soft voice echoes through his head: Can't you just... talk to him?

Of course Wayne was right, he always is. Eddie should know that by now. It's terrifying, the thought of actually talking to Steve - but Eddie knows that he's the only one to blame for this mess, so it’s only fair that he should also be the one to fix it.

'What if I told you I was wrong?' he blurts out before he can change his mind like the coward he is.

Steve freezes in his tracks, finally looks Eddie in his eyes again.

'What if I told you I've been a fucking idiot all this time?' Eddie continues, his heart beating at a nauseating pace now. 'What if I told you I was – I was expecting another Chad, back when my uncle told me about you, and I really didn't want to repeat that same shit again – and you've been continuously blowing my goddamned mind ever since we met. I really, really wasn't planning on falling in love, but Steve, you're fucking fascinating, and with every little bit I got to know you better, I started falling a little bit harder.'

Steve finally takes his place next to Eddie on the couch again, looking at him wide-eyed, lost for words.

'You're the most interesting person I've ever met,' Eddie continues, because he simply has to say it all now, 'and you have such a big heart, and – and I haven't been able to stop thinking about your lips for days – and I really didn't mean to hurt you. I should've given you a fair chance right away and I'm so sorry and –'

Steve suddenly launches himself at Eddie and shuts him up by clashing their mouths together slightly too forcefully, breathing into their kiss and only slowing himself down when he realizes that Eddie isn't going to pull away, that Eddie isn't going anywhere – and Eddie tangles his fingers into Steve's majestic hair as he finally gets a taste of that fucking addictive strawberry lipgloss. It’s exactly as sweet and soft and perfect as he imagined it would be and it might just have become his new favorite taste in the world.

'Jesus H Christ,' Eddie mumbles when they finally break apart, both panting and chuckling shakily. 'Uncle Wayne's gonna be so fucking annoying about this.'

Pt7

Can I just say that all your “look eddie it’s the consequences of your own actions!” comments on the previous part had me giggling kicking my feet?? U r all so right but also eddie is a complete idiot no i won’t take criticism. I am LIVING for all those sweet and funny comments / tags, it means the world and I am cradling them all in my hands <333

(Also everyone saying they feel like a burden asking to be added to the taglist, noooo!! It only takes me a couple secs and it honestly makes me crazy happy that so many of you are invested enough to want updates! I am hugging all of you!!)

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @rainydays35  @cassaloopa @skeliiix @thesuninyaface @silversnaffles @jestyzesty @4nemo1egend @ace-of-foxes @harringtonsgother @thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @thereindeerlady @jillfriend @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gamerdano @spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @00biscuit @mixsethaddams @steve-the-hairrington @episcogoth @caligularib @gaydrieeen @winterbuckwild @bookbinderbitch @daysarestranger @nonbinary-eddie-munson @fangirltofangod @solalasoforth @obsessivlyme @slit-wrist @fxndom-hoe @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @joruni @roastingdragon @lenore1232 @princessstevemunson @cuips-not-cute @munsonsuccubus @justalittlefungi @cherrycolas-things @nitrilexam @thepainisspicy @hopefulslothcollecter @whatisreggieshortfor @doctorqueensanatomy @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sadcanadianwinter @iamsotiredman @orangeandthefairroadkill @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @b-icetea @freddykicksasses @faery-god @poleaxed-aloe @mamaclownhunter @paperbackribs @blvckwidow @mightbeasleep @butuglypeoplefucktoo @lolawon @angryavocadofrog @iwouldsail @livelaughlexa @magpiemuseum @shushuac  @ravnlinn @homohomohoe @kissaphobic-kas @cmackz93 @your-greatest-queen @alltheweirdkidsinoneplace @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @ceaselessly-watching @anaibis @enchantedlandcoffee @fluffy-alpaca-of-darkness @nelotegreitic @mollymawkwrites @evix-syne666 @redfreckledwolf @ajamlessbaby @connected-dots @nothisisntmyname @steddieassheg0es @anxiouseds @summer1066 @loopholesinmydreams @mareydi  @lillemilly @this-is-moony-lovegood @qomrades @mad-h-w @gay-stranger-things @blanketlicker @fandomcartographer @adankrivervalleynearyou @undreamingscatworld @theysherobinbuckley @i-wanna-combust @stranger-poets-society  @fanshipgirl88 @nonhetbts @literallyjustarat @knitsforthetrail @limpingpenguin @spoopy-rayvynnnox @impeachy @ashwinmeird @7boxesofcheerios @nonsense-of-dimitri @azreadytodie @fuctacles @fuzzyduxk @pluto-pepsi @bornonthesavage @what-am-i-doing-with-my-non-life @alanna342 @jinxjinn @ali-just-ali @piningapple @captain-daryn @namelessssho @doltclassic @elsarenard @ramyayaya @my-heart-is-stopped @lightwoodbanethings @goblin-eddie @indie-npc

[amoristt]

a/n: yaaay back with part 2 hehehe. im glad you guys r enjoying it so far! i have big plans for this series

- as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - want to support me? heres my kofi!

The Accused | Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, Pt 2

prev | next

-

The hours that followed Ghost leaving you to your own were brutal. It took a few long moments to collect yourself, all tears and trembling hands, but eventually, your legs found the strength to haul your body up to your feet. Your mind replays the last couple minutes on loop tauntingly.

If Ghost hadn't caught you in time, you'd be nothing but a broken egg on the pavement below. Your brain tried to think about what it would have felt like if you had plummeted without haste, but your body reminded you angrily how it felt to hit the wall on your way down. Surely, deep bruises of purple and blue would climb like vines up the side of your frame. Your body would make sure to ache, to remind you of the damage you'd inflicted onto it.

Damaged, but alive.

It feels odd being alive, now. You really had made your choice, fully accepted the gravity of your life cut short. Perhaps it was cowardly. But, ultimately, you knew that it would have been the better outcome between death and eternal imprisonment.

Still, guilt eats away at you. The image of Ghost's eyes through his mask haunts you- that primal fear in those beautiful eyes engraved in the back of your brain. If he hadn't been as fast- if he'd hesitated for even a second, you'd have slipped right through his fingers. You'd have dropped all the way down to the unforgiving concrete and ceased to be right in front of him. It hurts you- the thought of him grieving you like that. Surely he would have hated you for it.

When night came (rather quickly), you took your chance to escape. Wherever point 'A' was, it wasn't so nearby you couldn't scurry down those five flights of stairs and dart into the darkness. You ran from bush to bush, building to building, and even through a knee-deep marsh. You were grateful that this October was warm, but you would be lying to say you appreciated the bugs. Mosquitos ate away at your skin despite your efforts to battle them away.

You'd only been a few miles away from base, so it wasn't long before you were skirting along the trees, staring at the mile-high electric fences surrounding the fort you'd become so familiar with. The base you and Ghost had been staying at was a nice one- with all the fixings and even single-person 'homes'. They were small, one-bedroom trailer-looking flats with all the basic necessities, but compared to the places you'd slept before they may have well as been your own little personal heaven. Warm water and an AC unit-they'd spoiled you and your fellow soldiers. You remember on your first night, cuddled up under the blankets on your very own bed, praying they'd keep you stationed here for the rest of your military days.

But, now, here you were, creeping along the greenery, feeling more foe than friend. From outside, you could see military vehicles parking for the night and soldiers standing guard. Sneaking up on your own base, your own friends, you really did feel like a spy. You linger outside, wondering what to do.

Then it hits you.

And you know exactly where to go.

You disappear back into the trees. It's barely another mile out, but with just the moon overheard to guide you, you struggle to find your way. You pass by trees and boulders of every size, before you enter a small clearing, and tucked all the way to the side is exactly what you were looking for. A dingy half-finished shed engulfed by the canopy of trees and shadows.

And god, there he is, standing there and waiting for you.

In this light, Ghost really does look like he could be a monster. His mask nearly glows. Half covered by murky shadows, dotted by the glowing streaks of the moon passing through the leaves overhead, he stands and waits for you. Like he knew you were coming.

And he was right. Because here you were.

You snap a twig on accident and his body visibly tenses as he searches for the source, but when his eyes find your figure in the darkness it only takes a second for him to realize it's you.

"Been a while since I've been here," you start. He moves to the side as you pass him. The door opens with a dull creak.

"I'm glad we both had the same idea." Ghost grunts.

"You're telling me. I had to ditch my phone and everything, so if you weren't here I'd have no way of contacting you. And y'know what, that's two phones in two months. Talk about bad luck." You sigh.

"Never did find you're old one, hm? Not good, soldier."

"Oh, I'm sure it's lost in the ocean or blown to bits by now."

Ghost scoffs. "Hope so. Get inside."

When you'd first been stationed at his base, boredom often ate away at you until it felt like you'd go crazy. Ghost had been off on his own mission, the few friends you did have at that time never left the base of their own volition. But you, on the other hand, craved exploration. So you found yourself wandering the perimeter around the base, thinking about nothing and everything. That's when you discovered the beat-up old shed. At that time it was nothing more than a caved-in roof, rain-soaked flooring, and a broken window. Over the course of a couple weeks, you began to work to fix it up, glad to have something to focus on during your between-missions time.

When Ghost had returned to base during Christmas, and he realized that you too had no home to return to for the holidays, he began to join you.

Over that Christmas, you both turned it into somewhere you could both go to talk and occasionally share a few drinks. That was when you'd truly bonded with him. That was when he'd finally started letting you in willingly.

Dirt flecks off the frame of the door as you step inside, and it's just as dusty as you remember. Two chairs sit in the center with patchy blankets serving as cushions. An uneven table sits between them, one leg broken half off but supported by water-logged books stacked atop each other.

The moon filters in through the cracked window and paints the brown walls a beautiful blue.

Ghost sits with a grunt, kicking his feet out and sighing. It invites you, calls you in to shut the door behind you and settle beside him. So, you do. The chair creaks underneath your weight and you breathe out the frustrations of the day, gone into the air. For the first time that day, your guard lowers.

You just... breathe.

"What a nightmare this is." You sigh.

Ghost shrugs. "No one knows what 't think. They know something's not right."

A pang of relief visibly flushes through you, cut short when he shakes his head.

"Don't get too excited." He says quietly.

"...And why's that?"

"Graves called in his shadows." Ghost taps his finger against the table, lingering, picking and choosing his next words while you feel anxiety start to bubble within you. When he speaks again, it's forlorn. "He isn't exactly pushing for 'em to bring you in alive."

The weight of your heart dropping could have burst straight through the chair you sat on. It settles into your gut like an awful stone. A dull, pained chuckle escapes you.

"I knew he didn't like me, but damn."

Ghost shakes his head. "He's panicking. Thinks you can tell us where the missiles are."

"Missiles?" You ask, eyebrows raised in concern.

It must have struck him then, that Ghost hadn't yet updated you on the situation arising off-air. And judging by the way he tenses and leans forward in his chair, it must be pretty grim.

"Hassan... He's got our missiles. Three of 'em." As Ghost speaks with newfound hesitation and urgency, you can feel your nerves lighting up with each syllable. "We can't find the damn things. They get out... 'Lot of people will die."

"Jesus Christ." You wipe your palms down your face, eyebrows knit together. "How the hell did he get our missiles?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out. 'Pparently there's some messages and photos of you chatting with one of Hassan's men. That you might know a thing or two on where to find 'em."

"I haven't talked to anyone that wasn't our own." You groan. "God, what the fuck. And pictures?"

"From what I heard. They haven't shown 'em to us. Refuse to, actually." Ghost leans back in his chair, eyeing you like he's holding something back. "Like I said, no one knows what to think."

You stare down at your lap. Though you already know the answer, you find yourself asking anyways, with an uneven voice.

"...You trust me, right...?"

"God's sake." He scoffs, and you regret asking at all.

"I just have to be sure. Pictures can be convincing-"

"Pictures none of us have even laid eyes on. You think I'd be here right now if I didn't believe you?"

Guilt eats away at you, eyes downcast. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I can't wrap my head around why of all people it had to be me."

"We'll find out. Shepherd won't give us hardly any information, and anything he does give us is... vague." Ghost is choosy with his words. "...Shepherd found and turned the evidence in himself, supposedly."

You feel an actual strike of nausea pulse through you.

"There's no way Shepherd would frame me." Though you try to say it with an even tone, your voice exposes your lack of confidence in your General. You suck in a breath when there's no reply. "Ghost..?"

Ghost doesn't answer, but his eyes do flick to yours. A silent, cautious confirmation.

You swallow. Hard.

"But... But what good could come of this? I mean up until now I've been an exemplary soldier. Like, not to brag here, but I graduated at the fucking top of my squad and I damn well aced every test they threw at me."

"I know all this." Ghost chimes. "Everyone knows all of this. I don't know what the big plan is. I don't even know if there is a big plan. I just know something isn't right."

There's a pause, and his eyes soften.

"I know you wouldn't do this."

Tears well at the waterlines of your eyes and you struggle to hold them back. With the military against you, Shadow's snapping at your heels at every chance they could get, and now faced with the chance that your own fucking general would frame you, you're completely unsure of what to do next. Ghost leans over the table and sets a firm hand on your shoulder.

You bite your tears back, refusing to let him witness you cry again. Twice in one day was just too much on your already shattered ego.

"What do I do?" Your voice betrays you, uneven and breaking.

Ghost stands up and sighs. "You aren't doing anything. You're staying here."

"For real?" You frown up at him, pawing at your eyes angrily. The sight of him preparing to leave makes your stomach churn- the thought of being alone in this shed all night slinking into your mind. "I can't just sit here and do nothing-"

"That's exactly what you're gonna do. Get some rest, tonight." Ghost doesn't even give you the chance to argue, already pulling the door open. You gape at him from your chair with wet eyes. You see the way he lingers, see the way he considers stepping back inside, but his resolve remains firm. For just a brief moment, he turns to look at you from outside.

You sit on the chair, bringing your knees up to your chest. Sounds from all directions reach your waiting ears as you take a final glance at him.

"I'll be back in the morning." He offers. The door shuts, and darkness encases you.

Shrouded in pitch black, listening to the sound of his footsteps growing further and further away, you fear tears sting your eyes once more. All alone, you let them slip down your cheeks.

You'd never felt so alone.

[xomb1ez]

Giacomo x Reader!

FLUFF + GN READER :)

—

Now that he has finally secured team star, met the big boss— or uh, Penny, (He still needs to get used to that!) And has now returned back to school with his friends— he was sure everything would go smoothly!

He was wrong.

The dark type user never really thought about… romance. It never really crossed his mind, thinking no one could like him since he was bullied. He was always quirky, plus his eyebags were a little weird. But now that things are different, it changed that thought.

He was simply composing a new beat, and named it after his crush. Sadly the world was against him as he was approached from behind by two people.

A red and blue haired girl stared at him, furrowing her brows as she stood next to a certain (H/C).

“Uhm… Momo, are you okay?” Questioned Penny.

Quickly, Giacomo snapped out of his trance as he fumbled with his computer, slamming it shut as his cheeks burned. (E/C) eyes met his and he quickly snapped them away.

“Y-Yeah…! Just, y’know… tunin’ into my new music.” He played it off cooly. (His voice uped a pitch)

You blinked at the way he kept avoiding your gaze, and shrugged, a grin breaking out onto your face. “Asombroso! Could I listen to it? I love your music Giacomo.”

“NO!” He yelled, making you frown, a rejected look on your face. He regretted that— “ I mean… uhhhh… Its not ready yet…”

Penny deadpanned, looking between her team star friend, and the champion student aka (Y/N), aka you.

He couldn’t be more obvious. And you couldn’t be more oblivious. Penny facepalmed before turning around. “I’m gonna go. Hasta la vistar.” She lazily did the signature team star pose before leaving.

You waved at her and told her you’d text her, while Giacomo completely screamed inside for Penny to not leave.

Now it was just you and him. Alone. In the classroom. AFTER SCHOOL HOURS… Maybe being expelled was better—

“—como? Giacomo?” When you waved a hand in fromt his his face, he realized he was staring at you. With his jaw dropped open. He snapped his mouth shut.

Goddamnit.

“Oh uh yeah!” He grinned, scratching the back of his neck before quickly swerving back around to face his desk properly. Shoulders tense and face flustered.

He tipped his hat more down, trying to cover his eyes.

Giacomo heard the sound of the seat next to him moving and he looked to the side, seeing you sit down next to him. Curse these damn double desks!

“Soooo?” You dragged on

“Huh?” Blinked Giacomo.

“Why have you been avoiding me lately?” You frowned, leaning towards him making his cheeks burn as he tried to look anywhere else besides at you.

“I said I was working on a new beat!” He chuckled nervously.

You stared at him for a good moment before shaking your head. “Ahh… Is this for going hard on you when I swung by your camp to battle?”

Thank god you were an airhead. A cute airhead.

Giacomo quickly shook his head, “No! Of course not. I love you— BATTLING YOU! It’s fun— fun, and awesome, prometo!” He stuttered.

You lifted your head and played with your school tie, “Really?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t lie to you (Y/N).” He smiled, recovering from his screw up.

You threw your arms in the air before glomping the dark pokemon user into a hug, leaning into him, “YAAAY! I love battling you too!”

Giacomo felt his heart skip a beat. ‘AGHHHHPWKDLS’

“I was worried you were mad at me…” You continued.

Meanwhile Giacomo’s face blew up into a tomato as he struggled to reply, hands hovering in the air as they flailed around unsure what to do with them. Your cheek pressed against his chest, arms around him in a hug.

All of a sudden you gasped. “Hu—Huh?” He stammered.

“I know!” You pulled back a little to look up at Giacomo, still having him wrapped in your death like grip of a hug. His dark eyes stared into your (E/C) ones that were filled with excitement.

“Lets go get some ice cream, Giacomo. My treat!” You grinned before pulling away from the hug, causing Giacomo to finally breathe and cover his face with his hand, still blushing from the hug.

“Are you sure…? I, uh, I’m not the most popular you know? And you’re the champion and you—“

You cut him off, “Oh shush you. I don’t care about all of that reputation crap. I care about you more!” You huffed.

Giacomo shot his head up, eyes blown wide from his usual relaxed look. “Me?”

“Yeah duhh.” You grinned, before grabbing his hand, interlacing your fingers with his hand. “HUH— WAIT! WOAH?”

You laughed a little before pulling him up from his desk and seat. “Vamos, before they close!” You cheered, quickly moving to the classroom door, Giacomo now fully combusting at his hand in yours.

God you were so oblivious… but that just made you all the more cuter to him.

[forbidding-souda]

Yaaay! Requests!! Can you please do HC for Kazuichi Souda with a ditzy but cute SHSL Skater (Rollerbaldes, Skatebaords, etc). Can be romantic or platonic! Tytyty

Kazuichi Souda with a ditzy SHSL Skater S/O

i'm so excited to write this i hope this is good

my classes start tomorrow yippie and i'm getting a C badge in idv on wednesday yay yay

-Mod Souda

❤ His favorite thing is watching you just skate around the neighborhood on your rollerblades. You have a carefree look on your face and you're just in your own world, not caring if anybody is staring.

❤ ^ It's like watching an angel fly.

❤ ^ Still, it worry the shit out of him because of how you just skate around absentmindedly. He'll like oh my god plz babe don't crack your skull open.

❤ Your demeanor matches his aloofness perfectly.

❤ You two can boost each other up for all of eternity. Whenever he's down, you know just the right thing to say to make him feel better. But sometimes you don't need to say anything - your smile is enough. He loves you and cherishes you so so so much.

❤ You'll skate around the school halls too. Maybe you two first properly met by you crashing into him idk that would be funny.

❤ Have you ever seen the video of the boy in the mall asking the security guard "can I skate here?" and then running with the board in first position but never hoping on it. Let me find it. I know I have it saved on tiktok. That's you and Kaz.

❤ The two of you maneuvering around ice skating would be the cutest date ever.

❤ I imagine if you take him to skateparks that all the girls are gonna bask over him. I'm clinging onto the idea that Kaz can't skate so I think it would be funny seeing him give them the ick when he can't even stably stand on a board.

❤ ^ Free my man he ain't do shit.

❤ ^ He's be better on motorcycles though. Bikes. Those cool bicycles at skateparks is him. And then you show him up and he's humbled.

❤ His favorite thing is when you do a cool trick and then land on the front two wheels instead of all four and he's like yes. That's the love of my life.

❤ You know how in Hope's Peak the students have to do one of those showcases proving they still have an Ultimate ability. Imagine Souda sitting in on yours and just yelling "do an ollie!"

❤ If he gets to leave grease stains in the house then you get to leave skate tracks. Fairs fair.

❤ Imagine how dirty both of your shoes are.

❤ When he goes to sleep at night, even if you're sleeping right next to him, he can hear the sound of wheels against concrete in the back of his mind.

❤ He gets along with Mikan a little better ever since she started having to put bandages on your scrapes (it's never that deep, but he insists) (he knows first aid but he's literally friends with the Ultimate Nurse so). If you don't like Mikan then he's going to do it for you. He doesn't care if you're good at first aid. He wants to help. It's the least he could do.

❤ Dude wait so you know in the beginning of Legally Blonde how she's riding through the neighborhood and she passes all the frat houses and shit. Imagine a sequence like that but it's you skating through campus and all of the different Ultimates are passing by.

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers - Volume 2

It turns out this series is super out of print and rare. My library only has the first 2 volumes, so I'll be reading the rest after this one online (if you want to buy it it's like $80-$100 per volume!) It's a little bit of a relief honestly, because the volume that I got from the library is pretty crusty and battered. I think I saw some dried shredded cheese on some of the pages 🤢 Really shows who the audience is.

Ch. 8

This manhua has really bad continuity and no sense of space. Characters will just pop out of nowhere. Culumon is the worst offender, but in this chapter there were a bunch of dramatic scenes between Rika and Renamon and then it just randomly turned out that Takato and Jian were watching the whole time but not saying anything? Riiiight.

I was really confused at the end and thought that Yamaki was saying he created a digimon but it was actually a really clumsy flashback to the original digimon programmers. Confusing panels...

Ch 9

Wow, the Devas arc already, it obviously felt like it took a lot longer to get here in the anime. I wonder if they'll do all the Devas or condense them/do some off screen?

At least one thing that's nice about this manga is that I can take in the Devas designs without them jumping around too much.

Ch. 10

Some of these jokes are flying over my head. Takato tries to name his group of friends "team rock" and he mentions "a skinny guy on TV who talks about the power of positive thinking." I wish they would cut out the unfunny, outdated material and just tell the damn story >:/

Worst boys Hirokazu and Kenta show up to reestablish themselves as part of the party...yaaay

Didn't realize that MegaloGrowmon was called WarGrowlmon in the dub. I guess it is kind of nice to keep the naming conventions more consistent. "Megalo" is sort of a weird prefix (megalomania?)

Ch. 11

I'm still obsessed with Jian's computer that can read trading cards as if they were CD-ROMs. I wish that technology existed!

Two perfect evolutions in one chapter? Pretty rushed but okay...they still looked cool. (Taomon and Rapidmon). I think the Wonderswan card game rot my brain a little cuz when I saw Rapidmon I was thinking about all the option cards I could use with him.

Ch. 12

Other than my fave Antylamon, I think Indramon is the most memorable of all the devas. His design is really unique, he's massive, and he kicks the shit outta Impmon. I like his emo hair too lol

When they realize that Hirokazu's homemade blue card works I'm surprised they didn't move onto a counterfeit card making scheme after that. I just it only works if it was made with pure intentions or something.

Ch. 13

Why is Juri's dub name "Jeri" when "Julie" was right there?

Damn, they really killed any suspense with Makuramon's intro there. In the anime he's presented as a kid at first but here they showed him as a kid but then slapped the name tag "Makuramon" right next to him...

They skipped a bunch because Juri just magically knows that Guilmon exists. They showed Hirokazu and Kenta meeting him, but not her. Oh well, I guess.

Ch. 14

Calling Juri, Hirokazu and Kenta "groupies" is pretty funny, not gonna lie. So accurate.

I like that they're clearly ID-ing each deva as its corresponding zodiac animal. I think there was a little bit of that in the anime, but not as spelled out as it is here. Usually I don't like to be spoon fed, but there's something satisfying about them saying "that's the boar, that's the monkey, etc."

[kiankiwi]

NEED a Little!Jake thunderstorm fic after those headcanons! Poor baby 😖

You should've checked if it was going to storm tonight...

You bolt awake out of a dead sleep when you hear your little boy screaming for you from down the hall in his nursery as thunder cracks across the sky. "MOMMY! MAMA!" You bolt to his room and find Jacob sitting up in his crib, his bedhead wild and face red from sobbing. "It's okay baby, mama's here, you're okay. I know you're scared."

You walk toward the crib to pick him up and immediately smell the urine on him. "Did you have an accident bubby?" He nodded as he clung to you and pointed to his paw patrol pajama pants. "Sorry mama! Went potty!" He cried. "That's alright baby, that's why you have a pull up on. It's not a problem."

Jacob whimpered and hid his head in your shoulder as another loud boom of thunder sounded overhead. "Mmmm, mommy!" He whined. You rubbed Jacob's back and kissed his bedhead. "You're alright baby, momma's here. Momma won't let anything happen to you sweet boy. Here, can we change your bum? Your wet pants can't be very comfy..." Jacob whined and nuzzled your shoulder. "Come on baby, you don't want to get rashy do you?"

"Itchy..." Jacob whimpered as you laid him down on the changing table. "I know bubs," you turned to grab Jacob's favorite stuffy from the pee soaked crib. "Here, can you cuddle Muffin while mama changes you into a fresh diaper?" Jacob nodded and hugged his stuffed friend tight. "Good boy baby, it's okay, mama will be quick."

Thankfully you completed the change and picked Jacob back up before another burst of thunder was heard. "Alright baby, do you want a bottle to help you sleep?" He nodded. "Alright mister come on." You attempted to calm Jacob by bouncing him as you went the stairs. On a regular day, the bouncing would cause him to go into a giggle fit but he was too scared tonight. He just clutched your tear stained shirt and hid. "I know sweetheart, I know."

You expertly made the bottle one handed as Jacob watched from your hip. And that's when you heard it. You heard the electrical buzz and then everything went dark.

Jacob screeched in terror and pushed his face even deeper into your neck if that was even possible. "It's alright baby, the lights will be back on in a minute okay? You're safe baby, I promise. Here, can you hold onto your baba while momma gets her flashlight out?" Jake felt around for the bottle and clutched it tight as you turned on the flashlight on your phone, illuminating your way back to your bedroom.

Hopefully Jacob will be able to calm down in your bed. You slowly but safely got back to your bedroom and found Layla snoozing at the end of your bed. "Oh hi Layla, sorry about the bright light girl. Baby, look who it is, it's Layla." Jacob whined and waved at his puppy. "It's alright baby, she won't let anything happen to you either."

Thankfully as you were tucking Jacob into the bed, the lights turned back on and you cheered. "Yaaay baby we have light again!" Jacob sleepily blinked at you as he put the nipple of his bottle into his mouth. "I know baby, it's been a rough night huh... I'm gonna leave you here with Layla while I go grab your paci okay? Mama will be right back.."

When you came back minutes later with a clean paci for Jacob, you found Layla laying next to her buddy and Jacob sleepily running his fingers through her fur. "Guess what sweet boy, I think the storm is quieting down... do you want to watch a show for a little bit to calm down?" Jacob nodded and pushed his face into Layla's soft fur. "Layla, being such a good girl helping Jake huh?" You said as you pet the golden retriever and got into bed beside the boy.

"What do you want to watch honey?" You could tell Jacob was too tired to speak so you slowly went over the options and waited for him to point at the one he wanted. "That one? Smurfs?" He nodded. Jacob wordlessly took your hand as Layla laid between you two.

As the cartoon started, Jacob whined wanting to be close to you. "I know, Laya, can you lay down there?" You pointed and the golden listened, moving down to Jacob's feet so you could hold him. "Good girl.." You said as you pulled Jacob towards you and guided his head to your chest. "There you little one, is that better?" You asked, kissing his messy hair. He nodded as he abandoned his now empty bottle and put his paci in his mouth. "Let me that you have little milk monster." You grabbed the bottle and put it on the nightstand before getting comfy again.

"You can sleep bubba, mama and Layla are staying with you..." You whispered as Jacob heavily blinked. You ran your fingers over Jacob's forehead and into his hair. "Shhhh bubba, it's sleepy time for a certain little boy... yes you." You said as Jacob wordlessly pointed to himself. You gave Jacob a forehead kiss and he finally let himself sleep as you held him tight. "Goodnight my sweet boy."

***

@mooodyblue @crypticminx @eee-lordy

I really liked this!!! I hope you enjoyed it!

[roeldraws]

well I’ve officially lost motivation for a Morgius project but I might as well share the “storyboard” of what might have been

it was supposed to be a short animatic/pmv to the song Suicide (The Lovers) by Fame on Fire which you can find here

Pt 1: “I know it might be suicide”

-here I was planning to just have Julius staring forward accompanied by the words to the song.

Pt 2: “With you forever”

-Morgan would be looking back lovingly with the words appearing in sync to the song

Pt 3: “but I'll follow you all the way”

-A cute scene with Morgan pulling Julius along with him, didn’t have an exact setting, could have been an open field or a market. Pt 4: “Suffering I'm so alive”

-Loptous looms over Julius for one frame during the line “suffering” before the scene snaps to Julius looking at Morgan with a semi surprised expression (implying Morgan can somehow suppress Loptous… cute headcanon of mine)

Pt 5: “I need you next me”

-Julius grabs Morgan’s hand in this part

Pt 6: “I'll hold you till the end”

-Julius is hugging Morgan in this scene cherishing the moment.

Pt 7: “If you're the end of me”

-The scene will cut to a darker kind of atmosphere where you can see a sword penetrating something… or someone. There’s blood on the blade.

Pt 8: “End of me”

-It’s revealed that Julius has been stabbed through the heart with Falchion, He’s smiling with blood staining his mouth. (You can’t see his whole face)

Pt: 9 “Love is Suicide”

-Morgan is hugging Julius with a horrified expression with blood staining his cheeks and hands as he’s holding onto Julius. Morgan is sitting with Julius’s limp body leaning into him. (Morgan is also fatally wounded here but I dunno how to depict that lol)

Bonus Scene featuring my OC Marcellus

“Dear beloved We are here today In the final resting place To seal their fate So we mourn the loss Of all that could've been As we end the story With their deadly sins”

several scenes of Marcellus sitting in front of two gravestones implied to be his parents, the scene flashes from his mouth, teary eyes and finally zooms out to him sitting in front of their graves with his knees pulls close to him.

the scene fades to black

Well if you ended up reading this far yaaay! This was an idea I had but I lost motivation for, there’s not enough Morgius content out there so I might as well share this! (Who knows maybe I’ll come back to this or it could possibly inspire someone else! If it does plz, plz, plz tag me!)

I hope you enjoyed peeking into my mind lol

[the-feral-one]

"I...need to talk to you about something..."

Wo showed a lot of nervousness as his words got Oki's attention. He worked to calm himself after letting Oki hold his vines.

Oki tilted his head a little. "What's on your mind, Wo? Are you Ok too? You look and sound very nervous..."

Wo looked to the side, then at Oki. Tears threatened to well up in his eyestalk.

"I wish...to pospone our wedding... It is just that...this has never happened to us before...and you do know about how anxious I can get sometimes..."

As Wo tried to find what to say next, Oki nodded. He looked at Wo's vines as he gently rubbed them with his thumbs.

"Wo... Please look at me, Wo..."

"I'm sorry..!" Wo managed to get out through slight sobs. "P-please don't be upset..!"

Oki let go of one of Wo's vines and reached up to gently wipe the water away from the snail's eyestalk.

"The same goes for me too, Wo! Like you say, nervousness is part of everyone. Words can't be more true there..!"

Wo waited until Oki's hand moved away from his eyestalk before leaning his cheek onto it.

"So...you're not upset... ...a-about the decision..?" The snail asked as he slowly nuzzled Oki's palm.

Oki shook his head and let Wo see a reassuring smile.

"Not at all..!" He lightly patted Wo's cheek. "Hmm.. ..but that leaves me to wonder...about what we'll do during the time away from Kitakami..."

Wo nodded and nuzzled Oki's hand again.

Soon, Ogerpon and her sisters entered the shrine. They started to talk over each other out of exitement, but were made to go quiet after seeing Wo's negative reaction to the noise.

"Oh.. We're sorry, Papa Wo." Ogerpon looked at Oki. "What's wrong with him, Papa Oki? He's all sad..."

Oki tried to explain the best he could.

"W-wait..." Spot began, motioning to Wo and Ok as she spoke. "I-if we're g-gonna p-pospone the wedding... ...w-what are we g-gonna do until the r-right time comes to have it?"

The family began to voice their opinions. As they tried not to alk over each other, Pink tapped her chin in thought.

"Wawa!" ("Hey!") Her sudden shout managed to get everyone's attention. "Wa-wawa wawa-wawa!" ("I have an idea!")

The family gathered around the table to hear what the Tinkaton had to say.

"Wawa....wawa-wawawa?" ("What if...we went on vacation?") She shrugged after asking. Her parents and siblings looked at each other, then back to her. Pink could see that Ogerpon was on board with her idea.

"Now that you say it...vacation does sound quite good..!" Oki showed Pink a happy look, putting his hands together.

Wo nodded, lightly nudging Oki. Oki put an arm around the snail and returned the nudge.

"A-anything to let things calm d-down before the f-festivites i-in Kitakami..!" Spot managed to say what she wanted before Ogerpon get her words in.

"I like it!" Ogerpon's eyes were starry as she turned to see Oki. "Can we go somewhere really nice and sunny, Papa Oki? Can we?"

Oki let ogerpon hold onto his arm as he answered. "We'll see where this idea takes us, Ogerpon~!"

Ogerpon gasped before going back to her siblings. "We're gonna go somewhere sunny!" She ran outside, followed by Pink and Spot. "Yaaay! We're gonna go on vacation!"

After watching them leave, Oki looked at Wo, who was holding onto him and lightly nuzzling against his head.

"I'm going to have to tell Peseta, don't I?"

Oki turned to hold Wo easier and returned the nuzzles.

"You're gonna have to Wo. They're in charge of everything."

"I'll go and do that. But, not right now." The snail gave Oki a loving look. Oki giggled a little as he returned it.

"You want special attention, don't you~?"

Wo nodded, cheeks going pink. "Please..~?"

Oki pulled himself a little closer to the snail and gave him a tiny peck.

"That I can provide~ But you have to go visit Peseta afterwards."

"I know."

As Wo and Oki retreated to their sleeping area, the three siblings occupied themselves outside by seeing who could get from the lighthouse to the Pokemon Center first.

[thedemonscrawler]

Desperation (Hope)

I have no excuses, @sinistershepherd / @bitterkarmaa wrote a non-canon oneshot for their Karma is Bitter series (which y’all should read) and then I got brainworms and wrote this in like 12 hours instead of working on chapter 10 yaaay -6am cheer-

---

A stranger. 

There is a stranger in the library.

A stranger who wears the face of his master, a face that Sun hasn’t seen in so, so long but still glimpses in the pristine polish of marble tile and in glass window panes overlooking a darkened kingdom because it is his own face, a pale reflection of something grander. This stranger is a reflection, too; burnt orange and charcoal, silvery scars and soldered rays boasting proudly of conflict survived and surpassed. A slender frame draped in clothes nicer than any Sun has ever worn.

One of his eyes is dark, blinded, while the glowing orange pupil in the other is barely more than a pinprick, reflecting alarm that nearly matches Sun’s own. He does not belong here, and he knows it.

“Don’t say. A word.”

The harsh rasp of the stranger’s voice, barely louder than a whisper, spurs Sun into action. The voice is even more familiar than the face, bored drawl sped up by a fear and urgency that he’s never heard before, yet it strikes deep into a lifetime of conditioning. 

He sympathizes, he really, truly does– but the fear his master inspires outweighs any sympathy. The stranger realizes this too, launches himself forward to cover Sun’s mouth before he can make a sound. The servant immediately cringes back, going still, trying not to provoke– but the expected pain never comes, just the press of careless clawtips into his cheek from the force of the other’s panic.

“Sun? What did you find?” 

That was the drawl he recognized; irritated, impatient. Dull and lifeless like the building around them, a promise of punishment lurking just under the surface. A battered hand twitches at his side, unsure if he should try to pry the hand from his mouth, but the stranger makes the decision for him by releasing his grip. Sun doesn’t question it, only whirls on his heel with the intent to get away, and almost immediately runs right into his master. 

He doesn’t bother trying to catch himself, an action trained out of him after one too many books knocked from the shelves by his uncoordinated flailing. Get away is still thrumming in his circuits but his frame is frozen, pinned under his master’s bored disdain.

“I-I was surprised, sir! You h-have to understand, I-“ he begins, and the disdain sharpens into a glare that severs his words, cutting off his frantic babbling. His master’s attention shifts, moving off of his servant and onto the intruder, and Sun knows that’s as good of a dismissal as he’s going to get. He scrambles away without bothering to climb to his feet, yet knows that he’s actually about as safe as it’s possible for him to get. 

His master has something far more interesting to torment right now.

Tucked down next to a nearby shelf where he can observe without drawing attention, Sun follows the exchange between god and mortal with curiosity smothered by dull resignation and the fear that being in his master’s presence always sparks. It is interesting only in how it brings a little variety to the otherwise unchanging days, and soon the stranger will become nothing more than a memory– until his master decides to rip it from his head. He cannot imagine that even a scrap of someone who wore his master’s face would be allowed to continue existing.

Especially not someone who was going to talk back. Sun’s hands clench, fingers digging thoughtlessly between the spines of identical books, and he doesn’t know if he should feel pity or fear or faded appreciation as the glint in the stranger’s eye shifts from utter terror to anger, injured pride apparently overriding sense.

The look of dark satisfaction on his master’s face is expected.

The glow that emanates from the center of the stranger’s chest isn’t.

Sun’s eyes widen. He stops trying to meld himself with the countless books that line the shelves, stops trying to make himself even smaller and less important, and raises up on his knees so that he can see better. Damaged rays scrape and catch as they try to move, an instinct that has yet to fade completely despite only bringing tears of pain to his eyes.

He recognizes that light. 

A white-hot glow, branching out from the center of the stranger’s chest, snaking up his throat and face, crossing his darkened eye. Cracks that do not bleed, causing no pain that Sun can discern. The brands of something much greater than the vessel that bore it.

The star.

Sun sucks in a hissing breath, and his gaze cuts to his master’s face. He expects to see recognition as well, perhaps irritation or intrigue– and yet all that he can make out is confusion. His master peers at the machine in his too-tight grip as if the stranger was the volume of a book incorrectly shelved, nothing more.

Does he not recognize it, too? Was he so blinded by the light of his own star that he could not recognize its glow in another?

The crack of metal on metal makes him flinch, drawing Sun from his thoughts, and the servant watches as the stranger is hurled into a wall, hitting it with bone-jarring force. He winces, tucking himself back down against the books, hands brought up to clutch his own arms and pulling them tight to his frame in dull sympathy. He knows all too well how much his master’s ire can hurt.

Perhaps he’d been mistaken, perhaps he’d been wrong like he so often is wrong. Stupid, stupid, how could the stranger have a star? Of course his master hadn’t reacted, of course Sun had been wrong–

Scraping, claws against a solid surface. The stranger pushes himself to his feet, single pupil a furious ember, and he launches himself at the master of this world with deadly intent. They hit the floor together, hard enough to splinter wooden boards.

Sun… cannot recall ever seeing anyone attempt to challenge his master like this. 

Something sparks; a tiny sliver digging into his core, frightening in its unfamiliarity. For a moment he fears that this is it, that he’s drawn his master’s ire one too many times and this is the first pinprick that heralds his unmaking, but grasping at his chest reveals no wounds, no new damage. 

Sun’s eyes drift over the white-hot cracks twisting over the stranger’s dark frame, glowing faintly under fine clothes now torn and streaked with dust, and he inhales sharply as that light resonates with the feeling struggling to ignite in his otherwise empty chest.

Hope?

His battered hand twists in the fabric of his shirt, scratching roughly against the equally battered casing underneath. No, no, he dare not name this feeling something as fragile as hope. Any hope he had was crushed by his master's hand a long time ago, scraped out and discarded, leaving him hollow. All that he has now is fear and boredom and aching loneliness. Whatever this feeling is, it's not that. 

The painful scrape as his rays try to move is barely acknowledged, and he grits his teeth on his permanently manic grin. Sun thinks about the hard glint in the stranger's single eye, fear and fury melting together. Something familiar, something he recognizes.

Desperation.

Sun has nothing to live for except the tired routine of life itself. A body of metal that rusts but never breaks, a mind of circuit boards and files that corrupt and fragment but never enough to stop him from functioning. He lives by his master’s hand, and he’s long since wearied of the leash that ties him to this world of empty halls and dusty volumes, lacking the strength or willpower to snap his bonds.

This stranger wearing a familiar face has the anger needed to fight back. This stranger has the power of the star needed to succeed.

When his master acts, an armored hand gripping his attacker by the back of his two-toned vest and tossing him aside as if he were nothing more than garbage, Sun is already scrambling to his feet. Too fast ventilations almost stop as he tracks the other’s trajectory, he does not hope he can only despair, please don’t take away the opportunity he has only just recognized. A heart he doesn’t have catches in his throat as golden claws reach out, snag the wooden banister, arresting the stranger’s fall. 

Desperation, a last chance. If he does not seize it now it will slip through his shaking fingers, and he will have nothing but his own inaction to blame. 

Sun has never moved so fast in his life. 

The stranger’s claws slip and skitter, losing purchase on the polished wood just as Sun reaches him, reaches out to grasp a black and gold hand as tightly as he can. The weight nearly drags him over the side of the bridge, his shoulder screaming at the sudden abuse, but he digs in with grim determination, fighting back against gravity’s embrace. 

He looks down, into a softly glowing pupil swimming in confusion, and the explanation spills breathlessly from him. “You have one.”

“What?”

It was a good thing that holding the stranger aloft requires him to engage nearly his whole frame, because it leaves almost nothing relaxed enough to flinch at the question in stereo. His master stands just a few feet away, and he can only imagine the expression that lurks on his face, the anger surely bubbling to the surface. Sun has been loyal for his entire life, a loyalty bought with fear and cruel conditioning, and this act of betrayal will not be well received.

A last chance, then. There will not be enough left of him for another, after this.

“You have one!” A response for the stranger only, twisted up with desperation and urgency as Sun pulls, trying to drag the other back up onto the bridge. He isn’t very strong, and the damage he’s incurred over the years has chipped away at his strength even further, but he can at least get the stranger far enough to pull himself up the rest of the way. 

Confusion still reflects in the stranger’s– in Eclipse’s good eye, a confusion that isn’t dispelled when Sun presses a finger to his chest, to the center of that gentle white glow. He can feel unevenness to the casing underneath, a scar of hastily repaired metal.

He cannot understand how the stranger doesn’t realize what he’s talking about, how someone can be a vessel for such power and yet apparently unaware of its conspicuous marks, but they do not have time for lengthy explanations. His gaze flicks along shimmering cracks before returning to Eclipse’s eyes, one a burning amber, the other the barest hint of orange. “Use it.”

The tap of metal on wood, the click of metal against metal. Eclipse’s gaze refocuses over Sun’s shoulder, confusion replaced by wary anger. Out of time, they were out of time.

Sun does not know anything about this stranger that wears a familiar face, burnt orange and charcoal, silvery scars and gunmetal grey. He does not know what this Eclipse is like, if he is kind or if he is cruel. He knows that he could very well be trading one kind of hell for another.

But…

Eclipse had been afraid, as only those who still remembered what it was like to feel pain and loss could be afraid. The fear of a mortal who has trespassed against their will, the fear of someone who has suffered and would like to avoid more suffering.

Eclipse had been angry, fueled by his own fury and the gentle light of a star. Angry enough to pick a fight that he had no hope of winning, too proud to simply bow his head for the sake of his own life.

And with the god of this world bearing down on them both, Eclipse stands, steps forward to put himself between servant and master. An intent to protect, and it didn’t matter if it was motivated by pity or gratitude, only that Eclipse intended to bear the brunt of whatever punishment was coming.

So Sun tucks himself behind his savior, trembling hands clutching the soft fabric of a goldenrod sleeve. His damaged rays scrape and tug, trying to retract, and he buries a whimper of both pain and fear in Eclipse’s shoulder. He is not brave, he cannot bear to watch as death approaches.

Desperation and hope. Two emotions of such similar color, a gentle white glow that could either warm or scorch. In hands like Sun’s the power of the star would be useless, the servant lacking the willpower and the intent needed to take that final step.

However, Sun isn’t the one with the star.

“USE IT!” 

[kyuponstories]

Hey so I'm interested in knowing more about Oh Coffee Boy. Like what's the plotline and how'd you come up with it. (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

YAAAY, an OCB ask!! 🥹❣️I appreciate your interest, love! 💞

This is a bit long, so buckle up lol. 🤠

I came across a post here on Tumblr a few years ago (on an different account). @one-time-i-dreamt, to be exact, where people submit dreams that they've had. I can't find the exact post, but I wrote it down in my notebook to never forget lol:

"I got hired for a job at McDonald's in the next town over, but I took a wrong turn & ended up at a maid cafe themed McDonald's instead. 'The manager was like, 'Well, we can just transfer you to this store since you're here and we're understaffed.' They called up the store I was going to work at without asking if I wanted to transfer."

I thought that'd make a hilarious plot line for a show, and it's like the great Toni Morrison said, "If there's a book you want to read and it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." Even tho this will be an animated series, the point remains!

My goal is to make mainly Black (girl) joy stories where brown & dark-skinned Black girls are the leads in multiple fun genres like rom-com, adventure, fantasy, etc. And because I'm an introvert, most of my MCs end up being so as well. In the beginning, the idea was for a slice of life about an introverted Black girl finally working up the courage to get a job after years of social anxiety (gotta make it hit home a bit lol). Thought it'd be a really cute SOL, but never really added onto it.

Fun fact! My grandmother and brother argue every morning. I kid you not. It's always because my grandmother loves coffee. So he makes her a cup of coffee every morning. The problem? She doesn't always finish it.... usually never. But what she will do is NOT care about it until it gets cooler. And then ask him to heat it up for her multiple times throughout the day! 🙃 So big bro complains about it. When my mom was in the hospital, we told the nurse about how grandma is with coffee. Gave her a good laugh when I put the stubborn woman on speaker so she could hear firsthand how it was the first thing she mentioned. 😂

Now, at some point, we starting calling my brother "coffee boy". My mother rarely drinks coffee, and usually drinks tea. At some point, he basically declared "If I'm coffee boy, then you're tea girl", so now he always makes the two of them coffee when they want it while I'm over their tea lol. The funniest thing about it is that mama rarely wants tea, but grandma always wants coffee. 😭At one point, I started dramatically singing "Oh, coffee boy" like the song "Oh, danny boy". And then it clicked! Like magic! ⭐ The title, the main character, his household. My family thought I was CRAZY when I ran upstairs and started writing it out lol. But yeah, those two are the inspo behind OCB! ☕As well as the dreamer who submitted that dream, of course (s/o to you, whoever you are! ✌🏾)

Just realized that I've never really made a summary/bio for this show LOL. Basically, Akachi is a guy in his early 20s who lives with his grandparents who he helps manage a barn with. He hates coffee, a drink he's forced to make every morning for his coffee-loving grandmother. Not only is it disgusting (which my brother also thinks lol), but his grandmother never finishes it. When Akachi takes an Uber to show up to his new job in the city, he shows up at the right restaurant, but the wrong location! Before he can object, however, he's transferred to the understaffed MegDonald's branch (spelled intentionally lol). Turns out Akachi is not only a great chef, but a coffee-making expert that has all of their customers coming in for a cup.... much to his dislike. To top it off, his co-workers are incredibly goofy and cosplay every day! Will the boy survive working at this new job?

Thank you for this ask again, really appreciate your interest in Oh, Coffee Boy! 🥰Writing it is so much fun, hope it'll be even more fun to watch! ❣️

[bodyfeels]

also i listened to kylie minogue for the first time this week and she's everything

i've listened to all her albums up to impossible princess. which btw the run time on some of these albums are crazy because i know when i'd listen to artists from the 80s-90s their albums would at least be an hour long or longer but some of these albums from her seem to be 45min to being just under an hour

i really like what i heard, and from the albums i listened to i really like kylie, rhythm of love, let's get into it, and impossible princess and i want to listen and appreciate these albums more before moving onto the next ones

and somewhat related but i backed up the videos of tomoko kawase covering kylie as tommy feb6 and wow... that cover is so good... i'd love to hear that rumoured studio version but it's most likely never seeing the light of day. i definitely want to try finding the full performance though

anyways we love music YAAAY

[whiterose-bluespace]

God, I've seen a Tankie post on my dash and it has just made me incredibly frustrated. Just... Why!? Why make excuses for the country that killed fellow leftists who were more liberal than them!? The country that didn't let independence movements flourish during the Russian Revolution/Civil War but instead conquered nascent countries in Imperialist acts!? I'm with the Anarchists and my fellow democratic and liberal socialists here Marxist Leninism is not cool. The Soviet aesthetics may be unique, they made some very cool stuff, and their history is interesting, but they weren't exactly a bastion of freedom and goodness. This is something that is especially true whenever you look into anything with Stalin or the Russian Civil War. You know, this wasn't the subject of the post that got me mad but I saw one from the same person going after Anarchists pointing out the Soviets wiped out the Makhnovshchina, The Ukrainian Anarchists, saying that the Soviets just "had to take them out as a rival faction" (paraphrasing here). Just- No! They weren't really in the Russian Civil War, they were fighting in the little sub war, The Ukrainian War of Independence, cus you know, they weren't exactly gonna take the fight to Moscow, they were an independence movement! The reason why the Soviets fought them was because they wanted control of Ukraine, where they also wiped out the independent Ukrainian People's Republic, a fellow left-wing government and a parliamentary republic.

Also, the Soviets weren't always at war with the Makhnovshchina too, they signed a peace treaty in 1920, the Starobilsk agreement, which made them allies with the Revolutionary Insurgent Army of Ukraine willingly placed itself under Red Army command, and the Soviets gave the Anarchists freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and freedom of association, with anarchists even allowed into the All-Ukrainian Congress of Soviets. They didn't have to fight them anymore, with the Anarchists helping the Soviets in several important battles against the Whites as the Red Army high command ordered their units forward even when they asked for rest, such as in the Northern Taurida Operation. The Soviets then stabbed them in the back and resumed conflict the next year, taking them and the independent republic out and conquering two independence movements. The Soviets did not need to take Ukraine, or Belarus, or Kazakstan, or Georgia, or Azerbaijan, or Armenia, or Kyrgyzstan, or Uzbekistan, or Tajikistan, or later Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia alongside the eastern flank of Poland and bits of Romania and Finland. This nicely brings me onto the post that enraged me. The good old Tankie talking point that the Soviet Union won WW2 by itself, no help needed, and it never willingly operated with fascists at all!

HA! HA HA HA HA HA! Fuck no!

There are just so many things wrong with this idea, so many... Well I guess first with the cooperating with Fascists bit. The Soviets under Stalin did it a fair bit. First up is the Italo-Soviet Pact of 1933! The nonaggression treaty between the Soviets and Fascist Italy under Mussolini with a corresponding economic treaty where the Soviets sold oil and coal to the Italians in return for technical support in fields like aviation and naval industry. The Soviets even sent over a military mission where both countries' attaches complemented each other with the Soviet ambassador expressing "gratitude for the exceptional attention devoted to the Soviet mission by the Italian command and government". YAAAY! However this treaty was somewhat strained till it was broken in 1941 due to the Spanish Civil war amongst other things, where the Soviets also shot a bunch of fellow leftist allies while their side was losing! Great fun! I wonder where Orwell, who fought for the Trotskyist international brigades during said civil war got his distrust of the Soviets from alongside his socialist leanings...

But anyway! We have the big one, the stuff with the fucking Nazis! You see, during the period of Weimar Germany, the Reichswehr, their armed forces, actually did a lot of kinda super illegal testing and training in the Soviet Union such as training fighter pilots and testing new fighters at the Lupetsk Fighter-Pilot School, or the Kama Tank School for their armoured core! This cooperation would not entirely disappear when the Nazis came to power, as while they openly broke the Versailles treaty and therefore didn't need secrecy, there was still stuff they could help each other with. Like carving up Eastern Europe!

Yes, right after Stalin did a Great Purge and killed off a bunch of important, competent people like Mikhail Tukhachevsky, the creator of Deep Battle and the command of the Soviet forces in the Polish-Soviet War- Wait- Oh yeah! The Soviets tried to do an Imperialism against Poland in the early 1920s! But anyway! Purges! So yeah he killed off a bunch of competent people such as Mikhail who blamed Stalin for the defeat in that Poland run, and imprisoned tons of others like Andrei Tupolev and Georgy Zhukov! Both of whom would be released later and play important roles in WW2 and later on, with Zhukov first achieving victory in the Battles of Khalkhin Gol, and then organised the defences of Leningrad, Moscow, Stalingrad, and was the planner and commander in several major offensives and battles like The Battle of Kursk! Oh- Wait- Sorry, tangent again!

But anyway, the Soviets and the Nazis kinda decided to carve up Eastern Europe and go into a non-aggression pact, the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. The one everyone knows about where the Nazis and Soviets secretly agreed to jointly invade Poland from both sides, split it in half while the Soviets also invaded the Baltic states, Bessarabia, and was allowed to try and influence Finland under the German-Soviet Boundry and Friendship Treaty.

But this, as I say, was the culmination of multiple other treaties, like the German-Soviet Credit Agreement of 1939 where the Soviets and Nazis traded and loaned each other money!

And while in the wake of Operation Barbarossa, these agreements with Germany and Italy would fall apart, what wouldn't were the agreements with fascist imperial Japan! Because the Japanese had been drilling for oil in Northern Sakhalin in the Soviet Union for quite a while, even with the entire Kalkhin Gol border war thing. This led, in 1941, to a non-aggression pact between the Soviets and Japan in April that was only denounced in April of 1945, at the very end of the war, and the Soviets gave the Japanese Oil concessions in Northern Sakhalin which lasted till 1944. The Soviets were giving Imperial Japan oil for three years after Pearl Harbour and the Invasion of Thailand and the British East Asian colonies.

Oh this is so long and I have spent so long writing this but then there is also the Tankie's bit about the Soviets being the main guys who won WW2 and Lend Lease was useless because "8 Million men"! To that I would like to ask, how gave those men rations, fuel, trucks, tanks, aircraft, and extra guns? Who were the people fighting Japan for most of the War? Who were the people feeding intelligence to the Soviets and breaking codes? Who was fighting in North Africa, Italy, and Western Europe? Who was blockading German ports? Who was fighting in resistance movements? Who was supplying those resistance movements? Who was bombing German Factories and Romanian Oil Fields? (Which by the way Stalin approved of, do you want me to bring up all the letters from him saying he wished the Red Airforce could join in on bombing Berlin?)

The answer is the Allies, we all know that. World War 2 was fucking massive and a team effort.

Resistance movements from the French Resistance (and their Spanish Republican remnant allies), to the Yugoslav Partisans, to the Italian Resistance, to the Polish Resistance were fighting the Axis forces with a lot of their equipment being provided by the Allies. Tons of pictures of Resistance fighters have them wielding British and Commonwealth-made Sten Mark 2 SMGs, and in their headquarters they had equipment, radios, explosives, etc provided and airdropped by the British and Americans. Not to mention the equipment the resistance movements captured and made themselves. The Polish Resistance made an armoured car from scratch to fight in the Warsaw uprising!

The Soviets were the ones who demanded an invasion of Italy to take the pressure off the Eastern Front and it turned into a grinding slow affair in the mountains. That was fought by British, Commonwealth, American, and Free forces.

And, yeah, that Lend Lease! It's the Elephant in the room. Operation Barbarossa and the chaos that was the Soviet's organisation on the day of the Invasion alongside Stalin's refusal to listen and prepare defences even when a defector told everyone that the Germans were coming devastated the Soviet army and airforce. The Soviets were desperately lacking in modern aircraft, with the famous IL-2 Shturmovik that would later become the backbone of their close air support force was barely in production by the start of the invasion, with pilots having little training on the craft. Most of their fighter force was also made up of old biplanes like the I-16 and I-15 which were torn up and had to scramble to get into the air on the day of the attack to either run to other airbases or try to fight off the superior BF-109s. T-26 tanks, while able to beat Panzer 1s and 2s were outclassed by the 3s and 4s, with not enough heavies and early T-34s there to make up the difference. Though as a side note, those early T-34s were also not great, they had awful visibility and ergonomics which made them nightmares to crew, leading to poor crew performance and Soviet crews not spotting German tanks right in front of them before they were blown up.

This, along with the occupation of many of the Soviet's major industrial regions meant they absolutely required Lend Lease to stay in the fight. Even battered after Dunkirk, The Battle of Britain, and engaged in North Africa and Burma/Myanmar, the British sent nearly 3,000 Hawker Hurricanes, starting soon after the invasion, and later over a thousand Spitfires, alongside Valentine and Matilda 2 Infantry Tanks. The Valentine would actually see continued production in the UK after it left the British army partway through the war because the Soviets liked it as a light tank! Roughly 2,000 of the 6,800 Valentines would be sent to the Soviet Union from the UK and a further 1,200 from Canada. Here's a historical archive video of Matildas getting sent over!

But this all pales in comparison to the US as dear god did they send a shitload of everything! 11 Billion dollars worth (back then! 148 Billion now!) worth of stuff! Canned pork was made in the Russian style to send over and feed the population, over 400,000 jeeps and trucks were sent that were fucking vital to logistics and for the mobility of the red army I cannot understate how important these are, like seriously, logistics is the life and death of armies and mobility was very important on the eastern front, and a lot of Katyushas were slapped on Studebaker trucks. Anyway! Thousands of armoured half-tracks, about 4,100~ M4 Sherman tanks which formed the core of several armoured Brigades (and was well liked), over a thousand M3 Lees (Which the Soviets really did not like, no one did), plus some Stuarts, about 4,700~ P-399 Airacobras and 2,300~ P-63 King Airacobras, plus 2,400~ P-40 Kityhawks, 862~ B-25 Mitchells, hundreds of PBY Catalinas, 3,400~ A-20 Havoks of the A variant alone never mind the B varients, and the US also gave the licence for production of the C-47 Skytrain over. This is not to mention all the oil and other foodstuffs and supplies that were sent over.

Though... Wait- Why have I spent over an hour writing this? I know I'm a nerd for history and I hate it when people get it wrong, but this is a little obsessive. Especially since this is a response to a post, from someone claiming that the Soviet participation in WW2 and the war against the Nazis somehow makes all Marxist Leninists good because a country following that ideology did big stuff that should be held up as something unique that belongs and characterises their whole ideology... While all the stuff they did to the Ukrainian Anarchists or the Hungarian Uprising and all that is not meant to be a "grand indictment of Leninism", nor any of the other crimes committed by the Soviet Union. They just think all the good stuff that people following their ideology did should make said ideology automatically righteous because it "killed more fascists than the other guys", while all the bad stuff people following their ideology did is completely separate from it and is not related to it at all. I'm writing all this after being incensed by a bloody hypocritical argumentative Tankie, and in turn, became pedantic and argumentative, when they have the stupidest of all arguments!

Huh, this really is the internet...

[ofstormsandfire]

YOU GOT IT BOSS o7

so. pov you are me. you are playing botw for the first time and running around dying like every half hour or so because, unfortunately, you aren't very good at the game yet. you freed vah ruta first because the game kind of does encourage you in that direction, struggled up death mountain to free vah rudania, and got to vah naboris... only to get hopelessly stuck on the puzzles inside it.

"fine," you say, because in this theoretical situation you are a somewhat babier me. "there's another divine beast somewhere to the north, right? some bird? maybe that'll be easier."

so you trek up to hebra. you start the quest, take a look at revali's landing, and get a new memory yaaay!

it's. a bit of a different tone from the other three memories involving link's dead friends.

"good luck sealing the darkness!" rings in your ears (and in link's) and you're over here staring in confusion. you decide okay, maybe it's time to put the game down for a bit.

(at the time, you are borrowing your shitty stepdad's switch, and you thankfully do not live with the man, so you can only play it in short bursts. one of these short bursts ends before you actually finish the vah medoh quest.)

you're still burning with curiosity though. who's this asshole? the other champions all seemed to like link well enough, even if zelda herself was sort of lukewarm, so what the hell is up with this guy?

you open up ao3, because you aren't that babier of a me in this theoretical situation, and you've been reading and writing fic on there for years already. you're curious and also somewhat in withdrawal about a game you will not be able to play more of for months.

one of the fics you click on happens to be a fic called pinesong. you're not all that opinionated about ships in these days, and you're really curious about the dynamic between your silly little guy of a player character and this weird bird. so you read it.

you cry multiple times while reading it, you laugh out loud on several occasions, and you learn a LOT about all parties involved. you also end up bookmarking the ship tag. you fall in and out of the fandom several times over the next couple years, never all that involved in it, and those periods of time tend to coincide w/visiting your shitty stepdad (and getting to borrow his switch.)

every time you do, you end up rereading pinesong. you branch out too, of course—there's a time where you've read basically every non-smutfic in the tag. (you won't figure this out for a few more years, but you are in fact very asexual and are continually mystified by your classmates' and friends' being so obsessed with the thing. you like reading about romance though. and silly homoerotic rivalries.)

eventually, one night—the last night before flying home—you get the last shrine in botw proper. and you consider this. you eventually go "fuck it" and decide to pull an all-nighter around midnight, because you really want to see how the game actually ends for yourself.

you end up vastly overpreparing, but it's fine, and it's fun, and some time later when your shitty stepdad, a proponent of having all the latest greatest technology regardless of whether or not he actually uses it, offloads his "old" switch onto you? you quite gleefully start up your old save of botw again and dye several armor sets in colors to honor the champions.

because. shit. you really like the champions, actually. revali's your favorite, because he's an abrasive little shit who talks back when you yourself literally can't, but urbosa is a better mom figure than you've ever really had, mipha's honestly adorable (and her grace keeps you from dying even more often from dumb shit), and daruk just seems like he'd be a really fun dude to hang out with. you were kind of terrified that zelda, when you finally made it to her, would go the way of the champions. you were utterly delighted to discover that she didn't.

you start looking for fix-it fics again, because revali is your favorite but it feels weird if he's the only champion who comes back, the full group is important to you at this point. you find a fic called moonlight (every single night) and basically tear through the entire series associated with it. you follow a bunch of revalink authors on tumblr because you're really starting to like the ship and it seems to be something of a rarepair.

you fall out of the fandom again, though you were never really hyperfixated on it to the point that you were obsessively writing your own stuff about it. you had a single fic idea, which you wrote almost nothing for even in the way of planning, but even looking at your own plans—you didn't have the confidence, or the skill, to write that fic then.

but hey, maybe you would someday.

you fall back into the fandom, rereading your favorite fics all over again. you discover that you have slightly stronger preferences on ships than you used to. tracks, honestly, you're older now.

you're basically whacked over the head by a metaphorical two-by-four when the realization hits you, all at once, why revali acts the way he does. it's a combination of dialogue from urbosa's diary in the dlc putting link, zelda, mipha, and revali all in the same general age range (zelda of course turning 17 the day that the calamity hits) and trying to figure out what on earth the... facepaint? featherpaint? on various rito means.

results are largely inconclusive, except for one thing: every single rito noted to be a child has reddish cheek spots. (almost) every single rito noted to be an adult does not have these reddish cheek spots, with two exceptions:

kass (who is a dad) and... revali.

you turn over his actions in your head through the lens of "this is a young adult at oldest. possibly younger. definitely compensating for things."

when you originally played this game, of course you latched onto revali once you got past the insults. you were... 13, maybe 14 at most? desperate to be taken seriously by everyone who seemed so much more talented and so much older than you.

it took you two years to finish the game. you still liked revali, even when you weren't particularly invested in the fandom.

by the time you realized how old he likely was, you were... well, still a young adult, but not to the point of barely being one. a couple years of adulthood, a couple years of college, made a big enough difference that you could semi-jokingly point at this bird and go "lol. baby."

(you realize just how tragic it is that link and zelda and mipha and revali were sent to their fucking deaths at what is, at oldest, around your age.)

you look for even more fix-it fics. you are teetering on the edge of a loz hyperfixation and you honestly aren't even going to fight it.

you brush up that tiny bit of writing you had for the fic you were considering writing ages ago, because you're developing some interest in fanzines and you figure that you might as well give it a shot. you don't get in. but looking at that small piece of writing makes you realize—shit, can you actually write this now?

...you think you might actually have the confidence to write that fic and the skills to do it. also, you've realized that there are other zelda games besides botw at this point. age of calamity feels like it made your favorite character too one-note, too aggressive towards link, but... well, you'd heard when it came out that it was basically a fix-it fic made into a game, and you do like fix-it fics.

you decide you'll buy yourself age of calamity as a treat at the end of nanowrimo, if you can make it to the end of it. 50k on your silly little fix-it fic.

...when you finish the fic, it's nearly 200 thousand words and more than twice the chapters you had planned on, to the point where you were joking in the comments with your readers (because for some reason you had those, what.) you did get age of calamity, and you enjoyed it for the most part, even if you're a little miffed at how they wrote your blorbird.

you are still having So Many Damn Feelings about this bird who reminded you a little too much of you. you keep on writing, keep on reading. fandoms come and go but the blorbird feelings remain.

you're probably never escaping the blorbird. but hey, people writing revalink fics tend to write him pretty well, and it's less of a rarepair than it used to be. there are worse characters to blorbo. :)

...this got way longer and way more personal than I anticipated, sorry. in case you somehow missed it I Have Many Thoughts About The Blorbird.

sorry! i heard you liked botw and i'm Experiencing about it / totk

ah gotcha

I thought that might be it I just got very confused for a second because I was like. is that my name now. have I been kinassigned a new name. like, zelda's nice and all, but it isn't mine y'know? y'know.

you could say. that I like botw. yes. don't look at my ao3. (or do but be aware there will be so many spoilers if you are worried about that.)

...would you. perchance. care to hear about the Blorbird

[babyjakes]

happy to see you. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | steve coaxes you out of your shell the first time you become little around him.

pairing | daddy!steve rogers x little!reader

warnings | sfw regression (daddy!steve little!reader), reader’s first time being little around steeb, very shy!reader, sOFT!daddy!steve the softsoftsoftest <3, just very fluffy and nice and sweet :’-)

word count | 411

requested by @nony-bear | Hehe I know I’m early but I wanted to send in a blurb idea because I love you and I’m so proud of you and your blurbs are always so good 😊 also I know I’ve gotten several requests written by you before so if you want to save me for last or another time that’s okay too 💕 but I was wondering if I could have a blurb where either Steve or Andy are with their little and it’s early on in the dynamic so the reader is being a little shy and the daddy is a little nervous too but he talks to her and gets her to open up a little and giggle and blush and then they end up cuddling or something like that

an | friend friend friend omg yaaay i’m so glad i get to write more stuff for you hehe <3 thankyou so much for this request i love this idea so much, hope it’s okay i went with steve. he’s just the softest, nicest daddy and so soothing to little!reader when things are starting out – hope you enjoy!

Though it’s never happened before, the first time you drop into littlespace around Steve, he somehow instantly knows it.

You’ve appeared in the doorway to your shared bedroom, waiting cautiously in the wooden frame of the door as the blonde-haired man relaxes on the bed, shading away at something in his sketchbook.

As soon as Steve catches a glimpse of your almost trembling form, he lowers his work, his gaze drifting up to meet yours. One look at your slightly cowering demeanor and he knows, his face softening immediately as he offers you a warm smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he coos, his voice much gentler than usual. Dropping your gaze down to the floor, you bite your bottom lip, unsure of what to say. Am I supposed to tell him, you ask yourself, how is he gonna know?

“You need something, lovebug?” the man’s sweet voice interrupts your racing mind. Looking up shyly at him, all you can manage to do is blink. “Hey,” he hums, keeping his voice mild and soothing, “S'alright sweetheart. You just looking for a little time with Daddy?”

Perking up slightly at his use of the word, you nod, earning another brilliant smile from Steve. “Yeah? Come on over then, peanut. I could use some good snuggles right about now.”

Making your way over to the bed still somewhat shyly, you climb up next to the broad man, melting instantly into his arms as he pulls you in close and shifts you onto his lap. “There’s my good girl, hi baby,” he sings, bouncing you gently on his legs. “How’s my sweetie pie doin’ today, hmm?”

“Good,” you mumble shyly, heat rising through your cheeks as he runs a soothing hand across your back in broad circles.

“Yeah?” Steve chuckles softly, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek. “What’ve you gone quiet for, doll? Just feelin’ a little shy?” Nodding, you tuck your head against his shoulder, inhaling the safe, familiar scent of your partner as he coos over you dotingly. “Aww, that’s okay, princess. Just so precious, aren’t you, bunny? Daddy’s sweet baby girl.”

“Daddy’s baby,” you repeat, allowing yourself gradually to slip further and further into that warm, fuzzy headspace you’ve been craving for so long to surrender to.

“That’s right,” Steve smiles proudly, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up to his lips to plant a kiss on your pinky. “Daddy’s little baby. M'so happy to see you, honey.”

[books-and-catears]

"Now I'm just a Ghost..."

Brothers reacting to MC shutting them out after the 'incident' (Part 2)

<- Part 1

Asmodeus

Asmo couldn't bear to be home anymore. Every passing second without your presence felt like torture to him. But moments with you felt worse.

It was way past curfew and Asmo was still at the Fall club, getting drunk on Demonus, flirting with whoever was nearby.

Leaning on the cold, wet table he was sitting at, he closed his eyes, remembering all the times you accompanied him there. Sometimes Solomon came along and brought human world alcohol so all of you could get drunk together.

"Asmo, Asmo, look the whole room is spinning! Come on let's spin along with it!"

"Asmoooo, you're soooo beautifuuul! Sometimes I just wanna like...hold you..and give you..CUDDLESSS!"

Asmo smiled even as his mascara stained his cheeks. He'd do anything to have the old version of you back. He'd do anything to just hear you call out his name again.

"Asmo. Wake up."

His eyes shot open. Your voice drowned out the whole party. He looked up at you, holding out your hand, staring at him. It was a cold stare but Asmo was glad you were finally looking at him.

"MC...MC! You came! You came here! For me! Does that mean you love me again?!" Asmo threw his arms around you. He couldn't even stand straight.

"Let's get you home. Your brothers are worried." You said, holding him close and making him walk with you.

Asmo pouted at your answer. "But you're worried to aren't you MC? Isn't that why you came to get me? Tell me you were worried too!"

"I only came cause you keep using your charm and sending your brothers away. Solomon and Simeon are busy too."

Asmo leaned further into you, taking in your scent. He didn't know if you'd ever let him be this close to you again. He wanted to pull you into bed with him when you were laying him down.

"Hah! Look MC, you do care! You're wearing the same bracelet as me!" Asmo held your wrist and showed his too.

"This is a VIP bracelet used to get into the Fall without having to wait in line. I only used it to get you out. Here you can have it back."

You pulled it off your wrist and threw it down on the floor. "Don't stay past your curfew next time."

Asmo sobbed all night pressing kisses onto the bracelet you left behind. A last good memory.

Beelzebub

All the brothers were secretly jealous of Beel. Even in your cold and distant state, you were still kinder to Beel than you were to the rest of them.

You didn't go to his games to cheer for him or even join him in morning workouts like you used to. You didn't join him when new food shops opened up anymore. In fact these days you were avoiding looking at his eyes altogether.

"YAAAY BEEL! GO GO RUN! YOU'RE ALMOST THERE! YOU DID IT!"

"Beel a new shop selling human world desserts opened up! You simply have to try my favourite ones!"

Instead he'd find you watching his game on the TV at home. Or your favourite desserts in his room, sitting neatly on the bed. You'd deny everything when he asked.

He often heard you cry and yelp when he walked past your door to go to the kitchen. But by the time he walked in, you denied everything and pretended to be fine.

"Don't worry, Beel, it's okay. I'm here. I'm right here next to you. Everyone is here. Everything is fine."

He remembered how you used to calm him down after his own nightmares and fear filled thoughts. And it killed him that you never let him reciprocate.

He stared at the new human world pasta dish in front of him. It felt wrong to eat it without you, so he packed it up and brought it home for you.

"MC, I brought a human world pasta dish. It has your favourite kind of cheese in it."

Beel approached you in your room. You looked up from the book you were reading to see him standing in the doorway with so much hope in his eyes.

"Sorry Beel, I already ate. You can have it."

"Are you sure you don't even want a bite? Just to taste?" He was closer now, kneeling down so he was at eye level. Close enough to see the purple of his eyes.

Suddenly you flinched and backed away as if you were hurt. Beel almost dropped his food, ready to help you from whatever scared you.

"What's wrong, MC? Is your stomach acting up? Let me take you to Satan he can-"

"No! No please! Step back! Go back, Beel, not so close!" You said pushing yourself back until your back hit the headboard.

Beel stepped back as told. Whether it was the pact, or it was him, he didn't know. This was the first time in months you had finally showed emotion. He only wished it was happiness and not fear.

"I'm sorry MC, I didn't mean to, I won't do it again. Did I scare you?"

You shook your head and looked down at the bedsheets, fidgeting with the folds.

"You have the same eyes as your twin."

Beel's heart sank as he glanced at the mirror in your room. He had been glad to have his twin's eyes - before they turned into the eyes of a murderer.

"I'm sorry, MC." Beel hung his head and left the room, watching you curl up in your sheets. He hated leaving you alone like this.

Belphegor

Belphie had it the worst by far. You refused to eat with everyone else ever since Belphie came back. You left the room the moment Belphie walked into it.

Whenever it was your turn to cook, you made sure to lock the kitchen with a spell so noone could get in. You set the table and left before anyone could see you.

Sometimes he could recognise your cooking. He picked up and bit into a rolled cheese omlette, and it brought back memories from when he was in the attic.

"Belphie, I brought you my favourite dish from the human world. It's my family's exact recipe! You'll love it!"

"You know I went to the carnival with Mammon and won these little stuffed cow toys. We'll each keep one and hug it to sleep. As if we're indirectly cuddling!"

"Beel cooked dinner tonight. He said he made your favorite curry so I sneaked some out for you. And here's some candy as dessert. Now guess what Mammon did in class today."

He remembered how happy you used to look to meet him. Like you couldn't wait to sneak up and talk to him. He remembered you're the only reason he even knew what was happening in the house.

And now you couldn't stand his presence. He only came to his senses after learning about your lineage. But you didn't know, did you? You never needed a reason to like him.

He was a demon, locked up in the attic, guarded with spells. You had every reason to be afraid, to stay away. But you chose to trust him instead.

And like an absolute fool, he proved why he needed to be locked up in the first place. He saw the horror on your face when you saw yourself die - and he knew his face would forever be a reminder of that.

Now you had even pushed away Beel because he had the same eyes as your murderer. Overwhelmed with guilt, he went back up to his attic next day and locked himself up. He didn't come down for dinner.

He waited by the door, wishfully thinking you'd come and give him his dinner instead. He waited so long, he fell asleep.

He was awoken by the sound of something scuttling outside. In the dark, he watched quietly as your sillohuette placed a box near the door, pushing it halfway inside through a space.

"MC, you came back..." He whispered.

You heard him and stiffened your stance. He couldn't see you but he knew you weren't looking at him. You only said one thing before you left.

"Go back to sleep with Beel. And don't skip dinner again. He's worried."

It had been so long since he heard your voice.

Belphie opened the box. It was Beel's curry rice and cheesecake. And Belphie's favourite candy tucked into a corner. He cried and hugged the box to his chest.