#don’t ask me what that means I’m tired and hardly even thing about the shit I post anyway

[thegreatcrowdragon]

I genuinely did not notice at first but they swapped his eyes around? I know it’s concept art but I’m curious on why

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

[igotanidea]

The remedy: Jason Todd x reader

(part 2 of how to be a good boyfriend series)

As of late Y/N was sad and tired and dealing with a whole whirlwind of negative emotions stemming from work overstimulation and pressure on her shoulders. Coming home exhausted, falling asleep on the couch, bordering the sickness but refusing to take some days off.

And it switched something in Jason’s head.

He was constantly around, asking her a whole amount of questions of what she’d like him to do for her, how could he be of help, how to ease her pain and make her days at least a little more bearable. Trying to the top of his abilities to be a good boyfriend, instead becoming the source of her headaches and irritation. And though the intension behind his behavior was quite obvious, and Y/N was doing her best to not lash out on him for being annoying, her willpower was wearing thin. Only waiting to snap and unleash the hell. All he had to do was just one more word, one more mistake that would push her over the edge.

It was only a matter of time.

***

“I made you a soup.” He smiled, being so proud of himself. Y/N was always fond of his dishes and now he was about to serve her a full three course meal with the dessert, having spent a few hours preparing something healthy to boost her mood and enhance her impaired health. “Come on, wash your hands, princess and I’ll set the table—”

“Stop…” she hissed, massaging her temples. “Just stop. Stop. Stop!”

“Y/N? What- what did I do? What happened? Is there something I can--?”

“Just stop fucking talking!”

If the command wasn’t enough to make him go silent, he would do it just out of sheer confusion mixed with hurt. Why was she mean while he was trying so hard to be there for her?

“I’m tired—” it took the great amount of self-control to form and say those words in hope he’ll understand he was making her feel trapped and suffocating.

“Okay. It’s okay princess. Do you maybe want to get some rest? We can eat later, I’ll make your bed and-“

“Ugh! Stop it Jason! Stop offering me so many things!”

“But-“

“Just shut up!”

Ouch. That must have hurt him and it reflected in his eyes and in his entire posture. Jason Todd just froze in the middle of the kitchen with a soup bowl in his hands, looking at her as if she was someone he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry – “ she whined realizing the damage done. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be mean-“

“I failed you again…”

“No, no you didn’t fail, it’s just-“ her voice faltered before she could finish the sentence. How was she supposed to tell him what the problem was while the right words just won’t come out to her head.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

Great, now he was getting dramatic and turning into a giant, sad, beaten dog. Probably the last thing she needed and she was definitely not in the mood to try to placate him. Not while she was struggling to not fall apart herself while everything seemed too much.

“Jason—”

“It’s okay Y/N. It’s a fact and there’s nothing you can do with it. Clearly not even with those lessons you’ve been giving me.”

“One lesson. We had one lesson and it could hardly be called that. It was more like an advice to not listen to Grayson-“

“And still I’m not making any progress with it.”

“Lesson two.” She muttered, her head starting to kill her. “You don’t have to be my remedy to everything.”

“huh?” Jason frowned a little giving her a funny look.

“You don’t have to offer me stuff, come up with ways to make shit better, overwhelm me with choices and options. You don’t.”

“I don’t? But—”

“No. Sometimes, you just have to be. Let me whine, let me be weak without trying to uplift me. And not turn into my remedy to every word problem.”

“So like a pillow in case you are a crybaby?” He smirked and apart from the obvious tease she couldn’t deny Jason was a fast learner, regardless of his own opinion on the matter.

“Don’t push it.” She warned.

“Oh I’ll push it all the way. Now that I know you don’t want me to make you feel better-“

“HEY! I didn’t mean I want you to make me feel worse! You’re twisting my words. “

“Sure.” Jason shrugged casually, taking the perfect excuse to put his specific sense of humor on. “What were you expecting?”

“You’re such a jerk….”

“Just listening to your lessons love. It’s up to you how you’ll bring me up.” Jason laughed pulling her to the couch and trapping in his embrace and she knew she was about to get at least a few hours of teasing and mean jokes. But she wouldn’t have it any other way

“I’m gonna have to be careful with what I say from now on….”

“Yeah, you better. “

They snuggled close together enjoying the silence and the comfort of just being together.

[callsign-joyride]

Fortnight | J.H.S

Summary: You realize that things with Jake aren't going to work out. Content Warnings: Angst (LOTS of it) Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader Lyric: "Thought of calling you, but you won't pick up. 'Nother fortnight lost in America." A note: I've been loving TTPD so I've decided to write fanfics inspired by the album! Each fic will be based on a different track/lyric, and they will all be about different characters! Some will be smutty, others not so much.

You thought that you were happy with Jake. Really, you did. Despite the fact that both of you were out of town, you had managed to stay together for almost a year and you were already moved in. You had met each other’s families a few times, and everything seemed to be going good. That was until you started to have work trip after work trip with your promotion, and he had what felt like back-to-back deployments.You only had two months and some weekends together out of the upcoming year, as far as both of you knew. 

It was starting to get to a point where you were considering leaving and moving back home. Maybe this wasn’t a lifestyle that you were cut out for. Penny would come by the apartment a few times a week when you were both gone to dust and make sure that nothing was stolen, but it wasn’t an ideal situation at all. You finally broke down and cried three months into Jake’s deployment.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore… I did the math and we’ll barely see each other over the next year. We both travel a lot for our jobs now, but I didn’t think it would be like this,” you said, over wine with your girl friends from work.

“Aw, hun, I know exactly how you feel. Things on your end should be calming down in the next few months. I wasn’t home much in my first year, either,” Estelle said.

“But that’s the thing, I don’t know if I can make it a few more months. I feel like I’m missing out on what the other couples are doing because my boyfriend is overseas doing God knows what and I’m always on another plane.”

“You should try to give him a call when you sober up. Tell him what you want.”

You finished your glass of wine and went back up to your hotel room. Calling him late at night would be too much work, and you were too tired to even try it. So, you tried to call him in the morning when you were feeling better, like Estelle said.

“Hey, this is Hangman. Leave a message.”

You sighed and heard the tone beep before taking a deep breath and taking a moment to think of what you were going to say.

“Hey, I really need to talk to you about something. It’s important. Call me back when you get the chance.”

He have good enough service to check his voicemails and text messages until it was around dinner time for you. And of course, his phone was barely working, so all he could get from the message was that it was from you and you were upst about something. 

“Rooster, man, I need to borrow your phone! My girl called, she was upset about something.”

“Alright, but make it quick. I told my wife I’d call her as soon as I got the chance.”

“Thanks, I owe you.”

Jake sat on his bed before he dialed your number. It was so relieving to hear your voice, and you didn’t sound so upset this time.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hey, it’s me. My phone’s being a piece of shit right now so I only heard part of your message. Is everything okay?”

You sighed and sat on the hotel bed.

“No, actually. Jake, I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can make this work anymore.”

“What… What do you mean by that?”

“I love you, but I don’t know if all of the distance and us traveling all the time will work out. We’ll hardly be seeing each other at all this year, I did the math. And, you know, I thought being a Navy girlfriend would be easy, but that was before I got promoted. I know that none of this has been planned, but I’m traveling so much that I don’t know if this relationsip will work anymore.”

“Fuck, okay, well, maybe there’s something I can do, right?”

“I don’t want you to lose your job because of me, and I don’t wanna jinx it but, it seems like I’m the only reason you’d come home early, and there isn’t an emergency.”

“So, what’s next?”

“Well, I’m gonna start looking for places soon. There’s a chance I’ll be moved out by the time you get back. I’m really sorry, Jake. Truly.”

“I am, too.”

You weren’t in a rush to move out, but you did start to put non-essential things in boxes while you looked for apartments. There was a brief moment where you thought of moving back home to New Hampshire, but it wouldn’t really work out because of your job. Between traveling for work and awkwardly exchanging texts with Jake and the Dagger Squad, you were finally moved out after a month and a half. 

The last time that you saw Jake, it was when you met up to fill out paperwork to be removed from the lease. You still felt awful about everything. He’d try to call you over the next few months, but you never answered. You never read any of his texts, either.

“Hey! If you’re hearing this, I’m busy. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!” 

He quickly got used to hearing your voicemail, and eventually stopped calling.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD prompt: First and/or Second David in the roleswap AU where Maggie's on Team Leverage and Nate's oblivious and still with IYS?

 It’s a decent forgery, Maggie has to admit. Not good enough to fool her, but damn close. And even knowing how much she hates him, Blackpool won’t doubt her word.  Not over the Second David. She could hand him something from a high school ceramics class and it would take him a moment to realize, and the statute that Sophie and Hardison put together over the last weekend is far better than that. She’s so close. She can taste revenge in her smiling mouth, like the vodka Sophie took from her the night they met.  Ian will take the bait and look the fool.  It won’t bring back Sam. She got into this game too late for that. Her ex would have said this was justice, but it’s not, and she knows the difference. “Sophie,” she says into the coms. “Come on. I need you to close the deal.” “I’m a little busy,” Sophie’s  regular accent returnes, the Italian she’d worn for the evening melting away. “There’s someone here who, uh. Recognized me.” Well. Shit. Maggie knows who that has to be. There’s only one person here who’d see through Sophie’s guise, and it’s the same person who’s the only threat to the game she and the crew are running. Hell, he’d know all of them, if not by face by some other means. She’s fairly certain that Nate never actually caught up with Parker or Eliot, but Sophie and Hardison…. Maggie takes a sip of her drink, and thinks. Nate won’t be distracted for long, and while the Vatican angle isn’t strictly required for the con to work, Sophie being spotted on the same night the prodigal art examiner returns will draw suspicion they can’t afford. “I’ll let you think over my price,” she tells Ian, handing him her empty glass like he’s no better than the bussers, and slips into the minglers.   It’s a risk. She left. And Nate was never-- he loved her, she knew that. But he wasn’t all hers. He loved the hunt too much. Not enough that he’d stray, but she opened the barn door and bolted, the day she’d woken up in an empty apartment and a text on her phone saying he’d had to fly to Madrid on work. Their son was cold in the ground and he’d left because the man who’d put him there had asked. What if he didn’t look twice? What if he did and then away?

“Maggie?” he asks, his voice and hand snaking out to touch her, and as she’d hoped, turning away from Sophie. “Is that--you… you look…” he trails off.

“Nate,” she says, quietly. “You look… busy.” Has he always looked that tired?  Have his eyes always been that hard? Maybe she is simply looking at him the way Sophie’s taught her to evaluate a mark. The way she looks for falsehoods in a brushstroke. Everything about him rings sad, but trying.

“I am. Uh. There was a case with a stolen Manet last week. We could have-- I could have used you.”

“I’m sure you managed,” she says, glancing around the party. “Or you’d hardly be celebrating.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, hard. “No one’s heard from you since…”

Maggie files that away. She’d have thought James would have said something. That he hasn’t is worrying. “I don’t have time for this,” she says, brushing him off, the reverse of Eliot pulling in the would be movie star. Unapproachable is easy enough, when she doesn’t want attention. She’s not sure she doesn’t, is the only thing.

“Maggie, wait,” he says, grabbing her hand and looking at her, the way Ian looked at the photo of the statue. The way Parker stares at deadbolts in bank vaults. “What did I do wrong?”

“I think he’s forgotten Sophie,” Hardison says in her ear, helpful, helpful. “So you can scoot. Blackpool’s by the shrimp.”

Maggie fights her own feet. She can’t tell him the truth. He’s always been so black and white, right down to the canvas.  She can’t pour out the can of grey paint and thinner she’s carting around in her heart without destroying the man she used to love. She can’t pull away, either.

“It wasn’t you,” she says, though that’s never going to be the full truth. “Let me go, Nate. please.”

His hand drops as if she’d struck him. “Maggie…”

“I’m sorry, Nate,” she says. “Don’t look for me.”

She knows he will. She’ll just have to have a better lie, for the next time.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 31

chapter 50: (15 chapters left)

1. oh SHIT the girls are fighting (sirius and regulus are at each other with nails and hair pulling)

2. “It's mean. It's nails and hair-pulling and brutal in the way only siblings can be. In mere seconds, they've both made each other bleed, and they don't seem inclined to stop there.”

i think the arena allowed them to do this, but they’ve been ready to go at each other like this for AGES. cause like, i want to go at my siblings like this sometimes. and then go watch tv together after

3. 😬😶 sirius just found out reg is a death eater

4. 😬😬 it was just revealed that reg did NOT in fact kill Coen. yikes dude

5. “"You're a fucking death eater?!" Sirius snarls as he dodges Yaxley's elbow.

"Yeah, it doesn't feel good, does it?!" Regulus snarls back ……

"How is this even comparable, you little shit?!"”

😭😭😭 plsss he’s so funny

6. damn, when sirius was fighting the others, he wasn’t going full force, cause he was having an emotional conversation. but he was still winning. and then he gets tired of fighting so he just in like two swift moves kills two people. jfc he’s scary.

7. “"I was going to lose James anyway, don't you get it?! I never even really got to have him! But you—I got you back. I had you back, and you took that from me. You weren't—you promised you wouldn't do that. How could you do that, after I—I begged you not to? And for what? Me? You think you did it for me? No, you did it for you. You tossed me aside, and it's not even the first time!"”

😧😧😧 holy shit, he just went right at it

8. “Grow up, Regulus."

"You won't let me!"”

😧 jaw on the freaking GROUND

9. jfc this fight is brutal. i think it would hurt less for them to just kill the other. cause like, these words hurt even ME

10. “"What I regret most isn't that you broke your promise, Sirius," Regulus continues. "It's that I wasted time caring enough to ask for a promise from you at all."”

yoooo wtf wtf wtf this HURTS

11. “”Let me guess, you told them only you could kill me? Something like that, yeah?"”

😭😭 sirius guessed it right and reg is like ‘😳 no…. i never said that. why would i say that?’

12. reg is like “😡😡😡 I HATE YOU” and sirius is like “liar ☺️”

13. i bet the entire hallow is on the edge of their seat watching this like the highest quality entertainment. no way has anything been this juicy in the arena for AGES

14. YOO WTF REG THATS OUT OF POCKET. HE JUST THREATENED TO HURT REMUS. MY DEAR, THATS YOUR FRIEND TOO! YOU CANT DO THAT!! LITTLE BITCH!

15. god, regulus is actually about to say it and just goes after regulus. like, hardly holding back. holy shit

16. “Sirius, for the first time, doesn't believe in his brother. Because Regulus wants to say Remus' name, and that would hurt Sirius more than dying by Regulus' hand.”

god, just stab me in the heart why don’t ya?

17. 😧 dagger raised above his head, ready to strike down in reg’s chest and just can’t. and then as he’s about to kill him, regulus says he loves sirius. good god, i’m actually crying so hard rn

18. “He can see it, suddenly. It does become clear, then, all at once. Regulus did trick him. He did fool him. Just not in the way Sirius was prepared for. He never imagined this at all.

Regulus never intended to go home.”

BAWLING LIKE A BIG BABY RN

19. “"Don't, please don't do this to me. Sirius, please just—please do it, or let me do it. Don't make me live without you, please don't, Sirius—””

YOU WOULD THINK THAT THE SADDEST THING HAS ALREADY BEEN SAID, BUT NO!!! IM SOBBING HARDER!! AND I HAVE A FINAL EXAM IN HALF AN HOUR

20. “It's horrible, because the arena has brought Regulus back to him twice, once when Regulus became a Victor and right this very second, but for Regulus, all the arena does is take Sirius away.”

BAWLING LIKE A BABY

21. oh SHIT james did not leave them a note this time

22. god, it hurts knowing that sirius doesn’t trust reg with a dagger. not because sirius is scared reg will turn on him, but that reg will kill himself

23. “"It has to be you, okay? It has to, because I don't want to go home if I'm not going home with you. I—I just don't see the point."”

that freaking HURTS

24. this entire chapter hurt like a fucking BITCH

[misterradiation]

Hello, everybody, welcome to my page! I’m just a silly little artist who doesn’t know shit about animation, but I’m working up to it. So for now, I’m working on silly art pieces that me, my friends, and hopefully all of you guys will enjoy!

Just gonna do a rundown of things, such as who I am, what I like, and what you can do related to my art!

OVERVIEW

Name: Andrew, Gale, Bella, V, Rad, even Arthur sometimes!

Gender: Genderfluid (pronouns already in the page, but just cause I’ll probably change it I’ll put them here)

Pronouns: He/She/They (taken by @donnies-brain)

LIKES & DISLIKES

Now, I like a lot, and I mean a lot of things. My tired little brain won’t let me rest in that sense, since I draw absurdly fast and hardly sleep (the caffeine is the only thing keeping me alive at this rate) so I’ll put all of them in their own spots!

Music: Rock, country, video game soundtracks, anything made by Seether, My Darkest Days, or Jonathan Young…I guess basically everything, actually :)

Games: Stardew Valley, Cyberpunk 2077, Skyrim, Baldur’s Gate 3, Slime Rancher, No Straight Roads, Monster Hunter, Red Dead Redemption, Gears of War and Pokémon!

Shows & Movies: The Dragon Prince, HBO The Last of Us, Dune, Venom, Deadpool, HBO The Penguin, Oblivion, and Pokémon!

Thas all, enjoy!

[snippy-tano]

I just finished watching the Blue Shadow Virus duology and all I could think of was Kix being Very Upset And Concerned when the love of his life was caught in the bunker and almost died/now needs to be nursed back to health…could that possibly be a fic, with lots of soft and worried Kix? (Take this any direction you want and take your time…I’ve been stalking your blog for a couple years and you’re amazing! I’ve read and reread so many of your fics 💕)

okay so i was a lot closer to finishing this one than i thought lol. i hope you like it @social-mockingbird and it was what you were looking for!! thank you for stalking my blog for so long and i hope to see you in my asks again real soon (hint hint)!! hope y'all like this one! honestly i feel like i'm on a roll so maybe i'll try to write something else tonight. i'm just in a fluffy mood i guess. what can ya do? anyway, enjoy!! let me know what you think!! :)

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightning-wolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @lucyysthings; @dominhoe-squad; @snipskixandbeskar;

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

Close Calls

In the end, things had worked out. 

The situation was definitely shaky in the middle, but between the troops, Senator Amidala, and Commander Tano, you were able to get everything under control. If you asked Kix however, you would think the world had ended. He had been by your side the moment you were pulled out of that bunker, datapad in hand, spitting out questions about your symptoms, asking about how you were feeling, and already talking about your treatment plan. 

At the time, you were too tired to fight him, raising a hand to pat him on the arm before you fell back unconscious. You were satisfied the moment you met his eyes, knowing he was okay and you were again in safe hands. It was enough for you to drift back off immediately. Which after the day you had, was welcomed.

You regained consciousness in the medbay, which had been repurposed to compensate for the large number of people who needed treatment. You could see Commander Tano a few beds down, already whining to Captain Rex (who was in the bed next to her) about being stuck in bed. Leave it to her to already be complaining about their confinement in the medbay. 

“Next time, try not to get infected with a deadly disease.” 

You chuckled lightly, turning your head to see Kix stroll up, datapad in hand. 

“I’ll try not to.” You let out a light cough, eyes squeezing shut. You opened them again to see Kix staring down at you. He let out a sigh, glancing around him. After seeing no one was paying the two of you any attention, he sat down on the edge, very carefully taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I know you didn’t mean to. But don’t do it again. Doctor’s orders.” Kix said, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

“Sir, yes sir.” You smiled, raising your other hand in a weak salute. Kix laughed lightly before lifting your hand and gently kissing the back of it. His thumb rubbed a few paths against the back and you smiled up at him.

It had been scary, not knowing if you would last long enough to get out or even if you were going to escape. You didn’t want anyone else to catch this or for this disease to go back into the galaxy, but you were terrified of losing Kix. Now that you were safe and he was here with you, things seemed like they were finally better.

“Now, how are you feeling? Do you feel sweaty? Bloated?” Kix asked as he stood up, picking up his datapad. 

Nevermind. You hated him.

You groaned. “Kriff Kix, do you really need to know that? It’s hardly romantic.”

“I’m your medic. So yes.”

You huffed, crinkling your nose. “Fine. A bit yes.”

Kix continued on, going through question after question. You always answered them honestly, knowing he was just doing his job, but you did enjoy throwing in some jokes here and there. It keeps him on his toes. If he was going to hover, you were going to make it a little hard for him to focus, sue you.

This routine continued for the next few rotations. 

Kix would come by any chance he had, he’d sit by your side, give you updates on the rest of the men, and always hold your hand. These moments were fleeting, as he was exceptionally busy, but you cherished every second you got with him. 

As you continued to take medication and were continuously monitored, you started to get your strength back. The sunken, ashen color that had taken over your skin slowly faded, as did the exhaustion. Every day you felt stronger. 

By the time you were cleared by the medical staff, you felt strong enough to go right back to work. 

Of course, the medical staff also advised that you needed at least a few rotations before going back to work, but there was some work you could get done from your bunk. Kix must have sensed your plan, because he decided it was a good idea to escort you back to your bunk. You tried to get him to leave once you arrived, but it was at that moment he revealed that he had the next two rotations off and would not be leaving your side.

So much for work. 

You were in the refresher, taking a well deserved shower for the first time since waking up in the medbay when you heard a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” You yelled over the running water.

“Are you okay? Not lightheaded?” Kix shouted back. You let you a sigh and continued washing your hair.

“I’m fine Kix! I’ll let you know if I’m not!” 

He said something else, but you didn’t catch it. Instead you finished washing your hair and quickly stepped out. You threw on the comfiest clothes you had and tidied up the refresher before stepping out. 

Kix was there the moment you stepped into your bunk, hand at your elbow.

“Kix for kriff’s sake I’m fine. I’m feeling much better than before and I’m capable of walking on my own.” You whined. 

The medic hesitated, head dropping. You stopped, hand coming up to rest over his.

“You really had me worried. I thought you weren’t coming back.” He said softly and your annoyance deflated in an instant. You sighed. 

“Alright. I understand. I’m sorry for being pushy, it’s just good to be out of the medbay and I am feeling better. But I’d love for you to stay if you want.” You said, giving his hand a squeeze. Kix took a stuttering breath and looked up at you, nodding once. 

“If you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “I’d love for you to stay. Now go wash up. There’s some spare blacks in the bathroom.”

Kix returned the smile, giving your arm a squeeze and pressing his lips to your forehead before heading into the small refresher. 

You looked after him for a moment before finishing your nightly routine. By the time Kix finished in the ‘fresher, you were curled up in your bunk, fighting off sleep. He chuckled lightly, setting down his own clothes and turning off the light. 

“I guess I was more tired than I thought.” You hummed as Kix crawled into your small bunk. You shivered at the air entering your warmth, but it was quickly replaced by Kix’s warm arm pulling you back against him. 

“It’s a good thing I was here then.” He breathed against your ear. You elbowed him lightly in the stomach and tried to ignore his soft laughter by burying your face further into your pillow. He pressed another kiss to the side of your head. “Good night.”

“Night.” You breathed in response. “Love you.” Kix held on a little bit tighter, breathing against your skin. “Love you too.”

You drifted to sleep, warmer than you had been a while, sure that the future was bright as long as Kix stayed by your side.

[aeros-lab]

Hi I've had an insanely productive writing weekend for None Of My Actual Manuscripts but instead random fire and silver character moments so here are some that I found most amusing

Avril PoV stuff:

Valora shook her head, her lips quirking into something almost like a smile. “Because he was easy. Ellard was, is, so ordinary. He wasn’t too loud, too violent, too anything. He was just there. If I was going to have to marry within the pack anyway, I figured he was milquetoast enough to not make it miserable.”

“Man, if my ex ever talked about me like that, I think I’d request euthanasia.”

\o/

“It’s complicated,” I said finally. I tucked my hands between my thighs as if physically folding in on myself could make me disappear and not have to have this conversation with Valora Reins of all goddamn people.

“What, you mean the whole reanimated corpse thing?” she said. “You realize I can turn into a giant dog, right? That’s hardly the weirdest love story I’ve ever heard.”

“Not that,” I said. “Well, okay, not only that.” I focused on my mismatched socks–one white, one striped blue and green. “I made some stupid choices. By the time we’d worked past the mountain I’d built between us, I ended up here. With you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “So sorry to disappoint.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right.” She let out a sigh. I scowled. “I mean, I couldn’t care less if you two make it out of this happily ever after. But watching two people dance around each other is agonizing whether you’re invested or not. Trust me, I lived through it with Zieka and Madison. Now that was hell. The emotional constipation. The pining. Disgusting.”

 I raised an eyebrow at her as memories of Lyptic’s prejudiced language filtered through my brain. To Valora’s credit, she caught my look and clarified, “Christ, it’s not because they’re gay. I don’t give a shit. I’m a bitch, not a bigot.”

“We love an ally,” I said dryly.

\o/

She shrugged. “I was angry at a lot of things. I took it out on him because I knew he couldn’t do anything about it. The pack may have owned me but I owned him. It was the only thing I had.”

I hissed through my teeth. “You also hear how fucked up that is, right?”

Valora gazed at me through tired, lidded eyes. “We both know I’ve never claimed to be a good person.”

“Did you love him?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. I wasn’t sure if Valora loving Ellard made this better or so much worse. 

“In a way,” she admitted. “I loved that he was mine.”

“Yikes.”

“I wanted to love him,” she went on. “And I think I did. Still do. But not like that. Not the way that spellcaster girl does. The way she looks at him is kind of revolting.” She made a sick face. “I could never imagine belonging to a person like that–yes,” she sighed when I opened my mouth. “I see the hypocrisy. Once again, I never claimed to be a good person.”

“You know, it’s okay to love people platonically, too,” I said slowly, carefully. “In a non-possessive, healthy way, even.”

~~~

Ellard PoV

“It means Avril’s back and she spent the night with Kithara.”

Hel whirled around with a tiny gasp. “How do you know that?”

Ilum’s eyebrows rose and he went from being puzzled to uncomfortable to amused at my expense. “Wait, did you walk in on them?”

I squeezed Hel tighter, ignoring the question. “Anyway, the gang’s all here.”

“Oh my god, he walked in on them,” Charity said, bringing a hand to her mouth. 

“Listen–”

“My brother in Christ, you have wolf hearing,” Ilum chortled, doubling over. Charity looked away, biting back an onslaught of laughter. “How do you not know when two people are–”

“They weren’t actively doing it!” I exclaimed. 

Helena’s shoulders shook and when I peered around, I noticed she was also failing to hold back a fit of laughter. 

I sighed. “Et tu, my love?”

~~~

Ilum PoV

Charity's eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Everything she said is true. I’ve gotten too comfortable depending on you. In combat. Emotionally. It’s dragging you down. I’m dragging you down.”

“I thought I was the self loathing one,” I said.

“Be serious.”

“Before I met you, I probably wouldn’t have excused myself before tearing Avril a new asshole so at the very least, you’ve made me a more zen person.”

She shot me a bewildered look. “Sorry, did you just refer to yourself as zen?”

“I thought it would make you laugh.”

\o/

“Nobody gets to decide whether a person is good or bad for me,” I said. “Not Avril and not you. Because, clearly, neither of you knows shit.”

“I feel so comforted,” she said flatly. 

“Not here to comfort you,” I said, smirking a bit. “Just being honest.”

“I think I’ve had enough honesty for this morning." She faced the water, watching the sun rise from behind the foliage. Shards of light glittered on the surface. “How about you lie to me instead.”

“K,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Uh…Charity, I think you’re really good at knife throwing.”

“Yeah, nevermind. Lying doesn’t have the same effect when it announces itself.” She scowled. “Also, I’m so not that bad. I have had at least two lucky shots in my life.”

“I’m not allowed to lie anymore, right?”

~~

Kithara PoV (tbh this was just self indulgent romance so it's mostly cheesy but I found 1 slightly silly bit)

“I’ve…never done that before. Was that okay?”

I could only stare at her. 

“That bad?” she chuckled. “It’s okay if you faked it.”

I cleared my throat but my voice came out at least two octaves higher than I’d been expecting. “Have I ever told you what an idiot you are sometimes?”

She burst out laughing, the anxiety sloughing off her at once. “There are worse ways to be called an idiot than by a gorgeous naked woman.”

[docholligay]

Palentine’s: Rei and michiru “I find a belief in heaven rather cowardly, not to mention naive”

It had taken Rei a moment to find the right church to step into, Tokyo not having all that many choices, and some of them far afield, but she had managed. Now she sat in a pew, staring at the altar in the front. She should light a candle, maybe. Wasn’t that what her mother would have done? She had died so long ago, and for so many years Rei had held onto the little Catholic teaching she had for the sheer memory that her mother had cherished it. 

But at core, she was her grandfather’s child (Even so many years after his death, she could not consider herself her father’s, even if she saw more similarities on the page than she liked) and so she had little knowledge of how to grieve in a Catholic way, now that Shinto was proving no comfort. Any prayer she might have known at one time was as blurred and misty as the altar in her scarred sight, merely a sense of color and shape, impossible to define. 

A priest had stopped to ask if she needed anything, but then had mercifully left her. What could she have said? My wife died, she would say, and I don’t know what to do. She nearly spat at the thought of saying it. He would give some thin, pithy platitude and maybe assign a prayer she didn’t know and give her a card she couldn’t read. It would hardly be different from the thin, pithy platitudes other people were giving her. 

Mina left me, she would want to say, as her hands twisted around her cane. We have been together so long, and she just left me without a word one night. She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t arrange things. Mina made a mess of everything and I had to fix it, again, just like I always do. She’s so irresponsible. 

“I supposed I might find you here.” 

Rei would never have needed to see to know who it was, her cool voice slicing through the silence of the church, her handbuilt heels clicking up the stone until they alighted on the aisle carpet. 

“I didn’t realize you pined so for the Catholic school of your youth.” 

“Michiru,” Rei sat in the pew, arms crossed, “Whatever you want to say just--shut up. I’m tired of hearing everyone give me advice, and tell me ‘oh it’s how she would have wanted to go,’ and ‘well at least you had love’ and all that stupid shit, and I can feel it, I can FEEL that you want to say something to me about you and Haruka and the nature of love and try and be that disconnected,” she was staring at her feet now, unable to keep her head raised for fear of showing the tears, “calm, poetic thing, and I don’t--” 

Her voice broke, then, shattered against the stone walls as if it were stained glass itself. 

“I was going to say, “ Michiru’s voice echoed in the emptiness, “That love is a gift; love is also a chain with a manacle at both ends.” she laughed softly, “Which is I suppose the sort of disconnected and cold poetry you accused me of, but we are what we are, at the close of business.” 

Rei wiped her face. “Thanks for the verse. Leave me alone.” 

“What I mean by that,” Michiru sat next to her and shook her head, “Have I ever been able to state something plainly? What I mean is, I very much understand what it is to be in the cold sea of life with someone, and suddenly realize that they are no longer alongside you, and you must keep swimming, but they are still tied to you, and the weight of their memory so heavy you might drown of it. I understand what it is to know that even a chest of gold can drag you to the bottom of the sea.” 

“Yeah, you know it so well it took you less than a year to be out with some woman every weekend.” 

“Because you love her, and you are in immense pain, I will forgive you for saying that.” her voice steeled. “Once. Say it again, so much as suggest it again, and we shall see which between us has kept her battle skills polished.” 

Rei opened her mouth. She wanted to fight. She wanted the argument, someone to yell at and hate. The feeling of combat, clean and clear and easy. All objectives known. She wanted to take this place and make it into her battlefield, to fight with Michiru, and fate, and God, whoever came first. Michiru would let her. Michiru would fight her, and truly resist her, because Michiru would know she needed it. 

Somehow, knowing Michiru loved her enough to do so made it less appealing. 

“How did you know I was here?”

Michiru crossed her ankles and leaned against the back of the pew. “Oh, Rei, I am well aware you see yourself as a great mystery, but I have known you lo these many years, and the most picturesque and quasi-European Catholic church in the broader Tokyo area, resplendent with carved wood and stained glass, seemed like a fairly reasonable place to start.”

Rei grabbed at her cane, but stayed seated. Where would she go?

“You’ve chosen a lovely place to mourn, however. The altar is carved entirely of dark wood, with two angels kneeling on either side, perhaps in grief, perhaps in reverence--what is the difference, really, when it comes to it? To grieve is only to accept the superiority of death--and against the white of the apse, it gives a nearly silhouetted effect. The stained glass, in parts, seems almost inspired by the likes of Chagall, in color and form, though i suppose we could argue Chagall himself had many inspirations. Though of course even in a more modern style one still has the usual suspects of Jesus and Mary and the like.”

She did this when they went new places together, pretending she was talking to herself, describing things Rei could no longer see. 

“Shame today is so sunny, I think, given the decor this place could truly encapsulate the moodiness you crave. If you’d ever like to go to Europe with me, it abounds with desolate and dank little chapels in which one can simmer as a stew, if one wishes. None of this garish white plaster to make the place cheerful. Who would want such a thing? One does not attend a mass to feel good about oneself, though I suppose it could be argued having nothing in the way of religion myself, I merely don’t understand.” 

Michiru,” Rei looked at the altar again. She could see the peaks that must be the top of the angels’ wings, and it began to come together in her mind, “Do you think there’s anything? Anything at all?” She rubbed the end of her cane. “Usagi told me Mina is in heaven. I just can’t--”

“Oh,” Michiru looked back at the altar, she and Rei in perfect paralell. “I find a belief in heaven rather cowardly, not to mention naive. I can accept the darkness. The nothing.” 

Rei gave a chuff. “You really know how to comfort someone.” 

“Rei, I happen to know you are perfectly capable of believing ridiculous things even with my express disagreement, otherwise you would cease bringing bargain wines to dinner. But,” she carefully, as if touching a wounded animal, took Rei’s hand, ‘We know I am no optimist. Perhaps there is, some sort of monistic thing, where all things are one, and in that sense perhaps they are still with us. If I believe anything, I believe that Haruka is with me when I see my daughter brush back her hair, or cut a sandwich into triangles.” 

“I want there to be something.” 

“So do we all.” 

“No,” her grip on Michiru tightened, “I want there to be something, so I can tell her how angry I am. Why wasn’t she wearing a helmet? Why was she driving it at night, in the rain? Why wasn’t she more careful? She was too old to be riding a motorcycle, and she just went out, and did it, without thinking, and I am so angry with her. I want her to know! I want her to know I will be mad at her forever!” 

Michiru laid her other hand on Rei’s. “Forever is a long time. Perhaps that is why I could never countenance the idea of heaven. But be angry now, at least. Come home with me.” 

Michiru rose to her feet, keeping hold of Rei’s hand with her strong one. 

“Why?” 

“Well, I cannot promise God, or Minako, will listen, but I can assure you that I shall. In any case, my apartment is private and well-stocked with your suitably terrible wine, and I am also happy to say nothing at all. I will not require your calm, or your acceptance, or your healing. Be hysterical. Be in fierce denial. Be wounded and enraged. Come as you are, but come with me.” 

Rei nodded and grabbed her cane, rising to her feet. 

She could see the angels now.

[villainessprefect]

title: (Un)According to Plan

summary: Ace nudges Deuce to ask out Epel, but things don't go exactly as planned.

ship: EpelDeuce

word count: 2,214

note: written for an exchange I joined!

Read on AO3

Ace rolls his eyes the moment Epel leaves. The lilac-haired boy pouts as he's forcibly dragged away by that freaky hunter. Yet his gaze isn't focused on those of Pomefiore, but rather on one of his own.

Deuce is waving at Epel with a promise to catch him later. There isn't much they can do when it comes to Vil and his demand to have Epel at his side. So, the most he can do is just meet up with him when he's free. Or fight against Vil, although that hardly ends up well for the first years.

The redhead grimaces as he notes the way Deuce's eyes sparkle. They always shine brighter whenever Epel is mentioned. He practically jumps like an excited dog too. And whenever he's around, his attention is always on the smaller boy. There's a longing look, stuttering words escaping his calm demeanor, and a damned smile that comes together. It's...gross. Okay, not that gross, but did he have to be so damn obvious about it?!

Ace likes to think he doesn't mind the lovestruck gaze his friend has. It only bothers him because this idiot hadn't acted on his feelings! Sometimes he thinks that Deuce isn't even aware of the crush he has on Epel. While it's fun poking at him with that ammo, watching him grow flustered and weak against his teasing, it also backfired on him. Rather than encouraging him to confess, it seemed to do the opposite.

Perhaps it was time to finally end this never-ending song and dance.

"You should invite Epel to our next unbirthday party," he starts, a mischievous grin forming. "You know, as a date."

"You think he'd like to come-" A pause as that last, pronounced word sinks into his mind. Deuce blurts out a loud, "EH?!" His cheeks flare up instantly and Ace enjoys the sight of him struggling to be embarrassed or go on the defensive. It's definitely still worth teasing him over this.

"N-No. Wait, why?" Deuce isn't even sure what he's asking. Words fly out of his mouth without thinking. While he may not be the brightest, even he's not that dumb. He likes Epel. More than friends should and he knows it. But why bother to ask him out now? Is there something special about the next unbirthday party? No, there isn't.

"Look. I'm tired of you giving him googoo eyes all the time. You're into him and he's into you. Just ask him out. It's not that hard."

"...He's into me...?" Deuce mumbles as his eyes light up as if he was just told any wish of his would be granted for free. And now, Ace is regretting helping him out.

"How do you ask someone out? You've done it before, right?"

"Yup! It's easy." Ace states proudly. "You just gotta go up to him and ask. Like, hey Epel! Go on a date with me! That's all there is to it. Go on, try it."

"H-Hey, Epel!" Deuce stutters already. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie. He fidgets more than any normal person should and his goddamn crush isn't even around him anymore! His mouth opens and words struggle to leave his lips. "This shit is harder than I thought..."

"Man, I can't believe how innocent you can sometimes be," Ace sighs. At this rate, he'd never be able to pop the question. The thought of seeing them sticking as 'just friends' any longer is going to drive him mad! Maybe...maybe he can force it out of him.

"If you don't ask him out, then I will."

"What?!"

"You heard me." Ace puts on a bold bravado with his declaration. He doesn't mean it, obviously. He doesn't have any romantic interest in their classmate, but he has to play his cards right so Deuce can finally make a move. "We got how many more days until the party? He's probably available. So, I'll just ask him out later. You snooze, you lose."

"Don't you dare," Deuce hisses. Oh, there's the real Deuce in the flesh. A fire burns in his eyes as he throws all of that honor student crap to the wind. It doesn't last long though, unfortunately. The fire simmers out almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I mean. I'll ask him before you do! It's just...not that easy for me to do that."

"C'mon, just do as I said. Go up and ask him out. If anything just drag his ass to the party even if he says no."

"That's not the most honor student thing to do..."

Ace rolls his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. Is this how Riddle feels when he has to deal with them? He isn't sure how he feels about this now (although it's definitely not going to stop him from getting on their housewarden's nerves).

For once, he's almost glad the bell rang to signal that class was back in session. A headache was starting to throb the longer this conversation went on.

"A real honor student wouldn't be afraid to speak their feelings to someone, I'm just sayin."

Those are his final words on this topic. Deuce looks at him, a little confused as to what he means by that considering he is far from being an honor student.

For the rest of the day, that was all Deuce could think about. Lessons had gone by a little too fast and he felt like he skipped class despite physically being there. He couldn't tell if Ace was serious about his 'threat' and that worried him. It didn't help that it caused him to think about Epel and get distracted. The boy sighed as he put a hand to his head.

"Just ask him out," Deuce mumbles to himself. He clears his throat and straightens his posture. With no one else around in the hall he takes a chance to rehearse.

"Epel! W-Would you like to unbirthday my party with me? W-Wait, no that's wrong...The unbirthday party you're going to is cool! Huh? How do I know he's going...Ugh!"

He doesn't understand how Ace can casually say those things while he has trouble getting the lines right. Planning ahead isn't his style, but he feels like he should with this. Romance movies always follow a set path, they set up a cute scene and an almost kiss. The last part is definitely not something he thinks he can do just yet, but...that's better than nothing, right? No, no, he can't just force a kiss on him! He isn't even sure how? Would he ask first or just do it? Would he know when? Would Epel? Does he even want to kiss him?

Questions build up and he regrets letting his thoughts wander too far. His strength lies not with his mind, but with his heart. If he's going to do something, then he should just do it. Don't think. Act.

With confidence building up inside him, he is determined to follow through on his newfound instinct. And he's given a chance to do so when he spots Epel in the courtyard.

A little, unknowing, smile creeps up on his face as he makes his approach. He's about to call out to Epel until he notices a couple of other students, taller, muscular, ones hovering around him. Deuce doesn't know what's going on but by the looks on their faces, it can't be good.

"Hey, what's going on here?" He asks as he steps to Epel's side. A mixture of curiosity and a rising temper on his side. Now he can see those two sneering at Epel while he shoots them a subtle glare.

"Nothin," Epel answers with a huff. "These barbarians were just leavin'."

"Eh? The hell did you just call us?" One questions, cocking his head to the side.

"The princess thinks he can push us around just cuz he's the housewarden's favorite," the other teases.

"Hey!" Epel shouts. That nickname didn't sit well with him. Sure, he's small and cute, but princess? Princess?! Seriously?!

"Epel..." Deuce breathes out his name. He can feel the rage growing inside of him. But he can't let a fight start, not here, not now.

"Oh ho, so now the princess has his prince stepping in. How dashing." They laugh at their own jokes to rub it in.

"I ain't need no prince!" Epel shouts, stepping in front of Deuce. A snarl overtook the dainty look he normally wears. "I'll show ya!"

"Epel!" Deuce calls out, but it's too late.

Epel pulls out his pen and so do the other boys. Instinctively, Deuce does the same. He doesn't think that Epel is trying to prove himself and fight on his own, the only thing that comes to his mind is that he's not going to let him fight alone. His protective nature comes forth and like hell is he going to let anyone hurt his friend. If Epel hates having him help, he can scold him later. Right now he just doesn't want him to lose.

Spells are cast with disregard for the rules, the school, and each other. Magic flies around the courtyard in a frenzy. Some hit, some don't. Grass is burnt, water turns to ice, a cauldron misses its mark. Once. The second time it hits.

And that is what gives the first years their victory.

"Sorry for jumping in," Deuce apologizes as his attention turns away from the other students and back to Epel. "I couldn't just let you fight on your own."

Epel crosses his arms. He wants to be angry with him, he really does. He could have handled those punks on his own! Yet...

"Mmm it's okay." Epel shakes his head as he smooths down his uniform. One part sticks out, the hem of his coat singed due to a fire spell. It would have done more damage to him if Deuce hadn't gotten in the way. "I always appreciate your help. Thanks."

The smaller boy shoots him a smile. It makes Deuce's heart race. The sudden pounding in his chest reminds him of his earlier plan.

"You're welcome! Er, Epel, I wanted to ask you something." He clears his throat. "I, uh..."

Unbirthday party. Yes. Date. Yes? Easy!

Oh, wait. He's not supposed to be planning out what he wants to say, he's supposed to just say it. But everything he wants to say is jumbled and stuck in his throat. It doesn't help that he's looking directly at Epel, who has his face tilted down with bright blue eyes gazing up at him.

Damn, he's so cute.

"You're cute. W-Wait!" Deuce shouts. "You're not! I mean- shit!"

He's not supposed to call him cute. Anything but that. But can you blame him? Epel is cute. So cute that it distracts him from asking him out.

Deuce panics a bit. Is this the part where he should just kiss him? No. Yes. Talking isn't working so that feels like the only other option he has. When did asking people out get so difficult?

Epel clears his throat, although it goes unheard by the Heartslabyul student.

"Deuce." Hearing his name catches his attention. The sound of it being uttered so fondly breaks him free from his disastrous thoughts. "You want me to go to the unbirthday party with ya, right?"

"How did you...?"

"Ace told me." He sighs. "Sort of. Rook gave me the heads-up before Ace could drop the hint. I wasn't expecting ya to go through with it though. But Ace said I should let you try. Said it'd be worth the wait."

"Was it?"

"I think so," he smiles. "Seeing you try to not mess up asking me was worth it." He chuckles. Deuce lets out a breath he'd been holding. "Still...not worth you calling me cute."

"Sorry! I didn't mean to let that slip! I know you don't like it..."

"You get a pass, but don't do it again. Anyway, never been to one of your parties before. They're not...fancy, are they?" Epel dreads the thought of them being anything like Pomefiore's. Prim and proper and full of nutritious and small servings. He hates it.

"Nope! They're actually pretty fun! Dunno if you'd count tea as fancy, but Trey makes really good food. His sweets are the best! Then there's croquet to play after we eat. Uhh, there are rules we have to follow, but I'm sure the housewarden won't be too harsh on you since you're not from Hearslabyul."

"Oh, right..." A hum. "You know the rules better than I do. Can you teach me those too?" Epel flutters his eyelashes. He doesn't need to but it's definitely worth seeing Deuce's cheeks turn bright pink. Ace was right about this!

"Yeah!" He doesn't know all the rules, hell he can barely even keep the first ten down, but for Epel? He's willing to memorize all of them.

"Then...it's a date?"

"YES!" Deuce shouts, voice being heard from the hallways. His whole figure lights up at the prospect of two dates. At least, he thinks it counts as two, right? Forget thinking about it, he's just going to count them as two. Who knew asking for one date could land you two anyway?

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: last night (06/12) LOCATION: a mean old lady's house PARTIES: @itzbridiebitch & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: emilio and bridie track down the owner of the cursed necklace. it doesn't go how they might have hoped. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Once Teddy suggested the presence of a curse, it became painfully obvious. Of course a curse would explain the voices in his head. Emilio had been so prepared to accept his own mind failing him that he’d allowed himself to forget the way there were often other things at play… especially in a town like Wicked’s Rest.

After that, it had just been a matter of tracking down the cause. Something harder than it normally would have been, thanks to the voices in his head. He retraced his steps with a clenched jaw, trying to go back through old cases. And it was hard. It felt impossible, at moments. Did the jilted ex-husband who’d lost everything in the divorce thanks to Axis Investigations know a good spellcaster? Was the mourning mother whose son Emilio had only been able to find in pieces taking her grief out on the most convenient target she could find? Everyone was a suspect, and Emilio’s addled mind could hardly separate one from the other.

Until the news story came across his proverbial desk. Local Pawn Shop Owner Dies. He recognized the man only vaguely, but vaguely was enough. He’d made a note that the guy was squirrelly when he’d asked him about the necklace, but he’d assumed it had just been due to the shady nature of most of the items in his shop. Looking back now, he recognized it a little easier. The way his eyes darted around without settling on anything, the way his voice was an octave louder than it should have been. Of course the stupid necklace was cursed. Of course. 

So, he’d reached out to the club owner. If the shop owner was cursed, odds were that the club owner was, too. And what he’d found was hardly surprising. She was experiencing the same shit he was, and she wanted answers just as badly. 

But apparently, she wasn’t willing to trust him to find them on his own.

He glanced over at her in the seat next to him, the car ‘borrowed’ from a street corner in Worm Row. “You sure you can handle this? I’ll do the talking. You just have to stand there.” Really, she could wait in the car… but he knew what she’d say if he brought that up, and he was too tired to argue. Sleep was even harder to come by now than it usually was, and that was saying something.

—

There were six voices in her brain other than her own now. Bridie’d lost track of who was saying what after the fourth voice had joined the fray. It was a jabbering, maddening mess, and she hadn’t been able to hear herself think in so long. 

Of course it had been that stupid fucking gaudy necklace. 

A curse made sense. It certainly felt ‘curse-y’. It felt like a living hell, actually. Her nerves were shot, and shadows rimmed her usually bright eyes from a lack of sleep. 

A voice outside her head cut through the cacophony in her brain and she looked over at Emilio. As if she was going to let him square this away alone. She had scoffed at the suggestion. She’d had far too much go wrong since his little sob story about his momma’s long lost necklace. She should have smelled that bullshit a mile away. Of course, now the necklace’s curse had made both their lives waking nightmares, so he’d probably been punished enough. 

“I’m not a delicate little daisy who can’t listen to a normal conversation. I’ve had a mass murderer calling me lamb chop for I don’t even know how long now, and no one else can hear it. I think I can handle a conversation about getting a stupid curse broken.”  Bridie grumbled. “Sorry, I’m not usually this… this.” She gestured vaguely. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

_____

She didn’t look like she was faring any better than he was, which didn’t make this a very promising trip. How long could the two of them keep this up? Emilio wished he had more of a timeline on the pawn shop owner, wished he’d asked the man exactly what day the necklace had first come to him. But why would he have? He’d been wholly focused on finding the damn thing then. If he’d known it was cursed, he never would have taken the case at all.

Bridie still would be, though. So maybe she was lucky he’d taken the case, even if he wasn’t. 

“Never said you were,” he said gruffly, the response a little belated. It took a moment for him to register what she said, took a moment for him to realize that it was her speaking and not the voices in his head. You’re slipping fast, Cortez. Won’t be long now. He hoped the woman who’d hired him had some answers. If they went in and found her just as cursed as they were… Well. That’d be a bad sign. “Don’t have to apologize. Think I’ve got a good idea why you’re like this.” He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before steeling himself and opening the car door. “Let’s go, then.”

Trusting that Bridie would follow, he made his way up the long walkway and towards the impressive house stretched out in front of them. The woman had money; that had never been in question. But money wouldn’t break a curse. Emilio just hoped she’d have some idea what would. 

—-

“I know you didn’t,” she sighed, rubbing at her eyes. One of the voices decided to start screaming. The blood curdling sound rattled it’s way around the faun’s head, and she couldn’t keep the soft distressed whimper the whined out of her at bay. “Let’s hope you do, because this is a circle of hell I never wanted to be in.”

It was a big house. Bridie probably would have thought about it more if the voice wasn’t still shrieking and jabbering. It was almost as though the voices were acting out their own little lives up there in their brain. Perhaps they were tormenting one another just as much as they were tormenting her. 

They walked up to the front door, and it took all the faun’s will power to ensure her glamour stayed firmly in place. She tucked a rogue cotton-candy curl behind her ear as she reached out and pressed the doorbell once, twice, three times for good measure. She glanced over at her companion and shrugged. “Her hearing an annoying doorbell is nothing comparatively.”

_____

“Tell me about it.” The words were muttered under his breath, probably too quiet for her to hear over the shit going on in her head. Emilio probably wouldn’t have heard it himself if not for the fact that it was him who said it.

Bridie rung the doorbell and said… something. Emilio couldn’t quite register her words, but he nodded anyway. He figured they’d know as soon as the woman answered the door whether she was suffering the same curse they were or not. Emilio knew he looked haggard, and Bridie didn’t look much better. She’d been cursed longer than he had, but maybe she was better at hiding it. Or… maybe it affected hunters differently than other humans. (Was Bridie human? All Emilio could determine for certain was that she wasn’t undead.)

The door swung open and Emilio’s client stood in the entry, looking… fine. Normal, cheery, unbothered. Unsurprised. She took in the pair of houseguests with a quirk of her brow, a hint of amusement sparking in her eyes. “Ah,” she greeted, “the detective. I did wonder if you might come sniffing back around here.”

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question; it came out flat and unamused, with the barest hint of anger behind it, because how could he be anything but? This woman let him get cursed, and she did it knowingly. He was allowed to be pissed.

“Well, I didn’t know about her.” The woman glanced to Bridie. “Is she the thief? Did you break into my home?” There was an almost teasing lilt to her tone, infuriatingly pleased as if Emilio and Bridie weren’t half insane on her doorstep.

—

The homeowner (or at least Bridie assumed she was the owner) opened the door practically smirking. The faun didn’t get angry frequently. Most of the time she was too busy having a good time to bother getting angry. And if someone did something to wrong her or irk her, it was usually all too easy to make them spiral into euphoria, giving in to her desire, usually to their detriment. 

She didn’t quite hear what the woman said to Emilio, as the voices picked that time to launch into a monologue on the best ways to dispose of a body. But she did manage to gauge the look on Emilio’s face, the tone of his voice. Good. Bridie wasn’t the only one who was pissed. 

The voices shut up long enough so Bridie could hear herself slandered as a thief. “Excuse you?” she said, pushing past the woman so she now stood on the opposite side of the threshold. “This is the first time I’ve stepped foot in your house.  So I think you should be nice, and show us further inside so we can have a nice chat.” Her voice was far too sweet, and was in stark contrast to the rage that started to simmer in her eyes. “By the way, I don’t believe I heard it. Can I have your name?”

________

Bridie was offended, and Emilio couldn’t quite blame her. He liked her, he decided, far more than he had on that first meeting. Back then, she’d been an inconvenience. A person standing in his way, feet planted firmly between him and his payday. But now? She was on his side. And she wasn’t a bad person to have onside.

He followed her in as she shoved her way into the house, shuffling a little as the voices in his mind distracted him. The woman looked a little irritated at the invasion, but that infuriating smirk didn’t fall from her lips. Emilio thought he might like to remove it for her, but he couldn’t quite muster the energy to say so.

Bridie was speaking again, and Emilio tuned in to a familiar phrase. Can I have your name? Rhett had warned him about that, a thousand times. Another way fae stole from people, he’d said, another dirty trick. So Bridie was fae. It didn’t bother him the way he knew Rhett would think it should have, and as much as he might like to chalk that up to the curse, he knew it wasn’t accurate. He’d made plenty of friends who weren’t human, plenty of friends his brother wouldn’t approve of. What was one more?

The woman’s smile tightened. “Ooh, you’re one of those, are you? Never seen it on one of you before. You can’t have my name. I don’t think I have much of anything for you.” Savvy, then. Enough to know what not to do with a fae. A shame; if Bridie had gotten her name, they could have used that. Leverage, a bargaining chip, whatever you wanted to call it, it would have been nice to have. Instead, they were stuck with…

“Tell us how to undo it.” He blurted it out without meaning to, the words jumbled as they left his mouth. The woman turned back to him, smile softening again.

“Oh, you poor things. You both look terrible. I’d offer you some tea, but I don’t want to waste it. It’s not like it’ll make much of a difference, will it?” She laughed the empty, airy laugh that wealthy people so often used.

—

The tiny flame of hope in her chest guttered out at that sentence. One of those. “Those what, you’ll have to be more specific. One of those people that is in your house now? Yes I am.” Bridie said testily. “And you are the sort of person who gets off on not helping other people, apparently. I’m betting you won the guess who’s going to the retirement home contest with your family.” At least now her exhaustion had a target. 

She glanced at Emilio as his demand tumbled out. Bridie pointed at him as if to say ‘what he said,’ before rubbing at her eyes. She could almost smell the woman’s delight as the woman started talking again. Bridie couldn’t quite hear the words- not as the cacophony in her head swelled again like the world’s worst orchestra- but the all to pleased tone was accompanied with a faint scent that Bridie often latched onto as the promise of a good meal. Delight. Unfortunately, this woman’s smelled like a powdery lily fragrance that the faun associated with boring old women with horrible taste. Funny how people always reflected a bit of themselves in their emotions. 

She realized the woman had said something, and based on the stupid smug look on her face, it wasn’t good. “Can you like. Cut the shit? For five fucking minutes, you depressing old hag?” The faun grumbled under her breath. She looked at Emilio, at a loss. 

____

Even without a curse putting him on edge, Emilio had little patience for people like this. He’d never been much good at conversation and, as a result, he didn’t like beating around the bush. Whether Bridie felt similarly or the curse simply had her sharing in the sentiment today, he wasn’t sure. In any case, though, he was glad for it. He nodded as she spoke, glaring at the woman sullenly and trying to push the voices in his head aside long enough to maintain a presence in the conversation.

The woman sighed, shaking her head at the rudeness from her guests. “The necklace I sent you to retrieve was cursed, yes,” she said, addressing Emilio. Glancing back to Bridie, she added, “And I suppose you had some contact with it as well. It spreads through extended physical contact.”

“You’re not cursed,” Emilio pointed out in a low mumble. The woman smiled.

“You really are a detective, aren’t you?” She cooed, and he glared at her until she continued. “Yes, a keen observation. I’m not cursed. It was placed on the necklace by an ancestor some centuries ago. She used her blood in the ritual. Anyone of the same bloodline is immune to the effects. Call it an anti-theft system. An effective one, mind you. I suppose if the two of you are this bad off, the thief’s already gotten what was coming to them. Good riddance.”

“Stop,” Emilio ground out. “Just — Just stop talking. Tell us how to fix it.” She must have a failsafe, right? Some way of keeping people from succumbing to it? But as he smile tightened, he realized he knew what she was going to say well before she said it.

“I’m afraid I can’t fix it. Not without damaging the heirloom and, well, I did just go through an awful lot of trouble getting it back, didn’t I? It’d be a waste to let you damage it now.”

—

Bridie dead panned at the woman’s comment about her contact with the necklace. “No shit, Sherlock.” Based on Emilio’s reaction, he was probably just about as fed up with the woman’s bullshit as she was. 

A blood curse? Alarm bells clanged through the faun’s mind. Mortals and their goddamn need to play with magic. She knew enough to know that stumbling into a blood curse was bad. She was grateful when the woman was cut off by her cursed compatriot. The woman’s voice was just as painful to listen to as the myriad of voices fighting over each other in her brain. She wanted to yell at all of them to shut up shut up shut up, but then she’d have to listen to herself too. If she got out of this, she wouldn’t think a single thing and would simply relish in the silence. 

I can’t fix it.

“No you won’t fix it. You can fix it because you know how. You won’t fix it because you’re a terrible person with shitty taste in gaudy things that hurt people.” She snapped over the roar of voices in her head, every muscle in her body dreaming of nothing more than doing a happy little jig on the woman to trample her. Bridie looked at Emilio, silently pleading with the man to let her strangle the old bat. 

______

Looking to Bridie, the woman considered her for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose you’re at least partially right. I could fix it. But I’m not going to.” Her smile was wry and unamused and cruel, and Emilio wanted so badly to wipe it off her face any way he could. But where there was one curse, there could be more. Killing her might start more problems than it solved.

(And there was another reason, too. The way his own voice had joined in with the awful, awful people speaking in his head, the way it sounded like it belonged with them. He was just as bad as the rest of them, he knew. He wanted to be better.)

“You’re not very good houseguests, are you? Rude, quiet. I think it’d be better if you were off now.” Still smiling that terrible, fake smile, she waved a hand towards the door. “Go on, then. I’d say you’ve still got a few days left in you. Well…” Her eyes slid over to Emilio, whose jaw was tightly clenched. “Maybe a little less. I’d suggest making the most of them.”

Emilio swallowed, the lump in his throat making it seem a Herculean task. Reaching out, he gripped Bridie’s upper arm perhaps a little too tightly. Half a warning for her, half a lifeline for him. “There is nothing for us here.” He spoke slowly, trying to fit his tongue around the words. His accent was heavier than it usually was, all the effort he usually put into lessening it shifted just to make sure he’d be heard. This was getting them nowhere. They needed to leave so they could come up with a new plan. If this woman wouldn’t help them, they’d find another way. They had to.

—

Bridie wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to make this woman dance until she exhausted herself, and then make her keep dancing as Bridie slowly slipped away from sanity as the curse demanded. Or until death claimed her. Whichever came first. 

A low keening noise was the only indication that she gave. She wouldn’t sob. Not in front of that miserable old bitch. And crying would be a waste of whatever time she had left. The faun flinched at the feeling of a hand on her arm. Had phantom hands come to join the phantom voices? But she saw a hand on her arm. Saw where the hand connected to a wrist, that connected to an arm, that connected to Emilio. And she let him tow her away. 

It was over. 

It was all over. 

But it couldn’t be over. It couldn’t- she was only twenty-eight! So young, with so much more to do, to celebrate, to taste, to experience, why- why should she have to slip into madness and then oblivion now-

Her thoughts joined the screaming masses inside her head. Some laughed. Some screamed. Some sang. Some whispered. She wasn’t sure which was hers. Her glamour wavered as her thoughts got lost and her focus slipped. 

But then she remembered the hand on her arm, and covered it with her own. She reinforced her glamour and gritted her teeth. “All of you, just shut the fuck up.” She hissed to the voices, who seemed surprised to be addressed at last, and gave momentary pause. She looked to Emilio once they were far away, her hand still holding tightly to the one on her arm. “Let’s get in the car. We need to talk.”

_______

There was a moment, a fraction of a second where her form seemed to shimmer. From a relatively normal looking woman to something else — curling horns, strange legs, fur. It was gone so quickly that Emilio could almost believe it had been a part of the curse… but he remembered her words inside. Can I have your name? Turning his head to the side, he pretended he hadn’t seen it just as he’d pretended not to see Teddy’s face shift when their glasses slipped down their face in their boathouse months ago, just like he pretended not to notice the way Perro loved Ren the way he only ever loved people who weren’t entirely human. He was getting good at pretending. He’d never been able to tell if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Nodding as Bridie spoke, he pulled her towards the car, half leading her and half leaning on her. He opened the passenger's side door to let her in, then moved over to the driver’s side to climb in himself. For a moment, he just sat there. He made no move to start the car, but his hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white with the force of it. Closing his eyes, he sighed. 

“It’s the necklace,” he said, though that was obvious. “I mean, it’s — We have to get the necklace. Break it. That’s the only thing I can think of.” If it were something simpler, the woman probably wouldn’t have been so adamantly against it. No matter how cruel she might be, she wouldn’t deny them relief if relief cost her nothing to give. Emilio had to believe that much. Opening his eyes, he turned back to Bridie. “We’re gonna need to steal it.”

—

Bridie nodded in agreement. “Steal it, burn her house to the ground in an attempt to melt it- I don’t give a fuck, it needs to go. Now. Blood curses are so bad.” Her hands opened and closed into fists as her gaze drifted back up toward the house where the one thing that could cure them both was hidden. 

“But she’s going to know that we’re coming.” She was talking quickly, as if she had to get her thoughts out before the voices interrupted her again. “I mean, look at you. Big bad detective man. Why the fuck would you take it. Just giving up doesn’t look like it’s in your vocabulary. And I think she may have caught on that I wanted nothing more than to stomp her smug face in.” 

The voices started cackling and jabbering again. “I said shut the fuck up-” She hissed again. Bridie was answered with grumbles, but another momentary reprieve. “How the fuck are we going to do this. What is the play. Because my answer is usually to try and seduce her, but there is no way in fucking hell I’m kissing that lady.”

____

He couldn’t find it in him to disagree with her sentiment; burning the woman’s house down was a tempting proposal. But… “We need to be sure it’s broken all the way. So we need to get our hands on it. Probably break it with the both of us there.” 

Bridie had a point, of course. They’d tried asking nicely, and that was going to be a point against them. She’d suspect that they would come back for the necklace. Maybe she even wanted them to. She’d certainly seemed to enjoy their misery well enough that Emilio wouldn’t have been surprised if she wanted another taste. “Yes, I think she might know you don’t like her,” he replied dryly.

She snapped at someone not present, someone in her head, and Emilio understood the urge. He’d tried the same thing a few times, but he found it brought him little relief. Maybe it worked better for her. The curse had to work differently for a fae than it did for a human, even if the human was a hunter. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to push past the voices in his own head well enough to think. Luckily, the answer was obvious enough. “I know someone. Nora. She’s my…” He struggled to find the word, giving up with a shrug. “She works for me. She knows how to break into places. Talks about doing it a lot. She’ll help if I ask her to.”

—

“So what?” She asked, grimacing slightly as one solitary voice started wailing, pleading for its life as though it were replaying its final moments in her head. Those were the voices she hated listening to the most. Bridie shook her head again, trying to shake the voice out her ear like water. “We steal it and then like… hit it with a hammer?”

The faun snorted. “If she’s still not sure if I like her, I’d love to get my point further across.” It was a grumble, but she managed a hint of a smile. Somehow having the answer to what was wrong with her and knowing the solution brought a little bit of clarity. She wasn’t going crazy- or at least not of her own accord. This was magic, plain and simple. Just not any kind of magic she was practiced in. But magic could be undone for the most part, and that fact was something to hold on to. 

Nora. That was a nice name. One of the voices in her head picked it up and started chattering the name over and over and over- nevermind. It was not so nice after hearing it seventy times in a minute. “Where is Nora, and how much time will she need to prepare? What do you even need for breaking and entering?”

____

“Something like that. We can worry about how we’re breaking it after we have it.” One thing at a time was the only way Emilio was going to be able to get through this. Even on a good day, he wasn’t the best at planning. His ideas always tended to be spur of the moment things that didn’t much focus on the long term effects. Hunters, after all, had little reason to worry about the long term; most of them didn’t live to see thirty. He was already an unwilling exception to that rule.

Though maybe not for much longer. Not for the first time, he thought of the pawn shop owner. How long had he lasted? The newspaper article on his death had been published only a few days after Emilio saw him. Had he been towards the beginning of the curse when Emilio went to his shop, or already nearing the end? He heard Bridie talking, something about a point, but it was hard to focus. And Bridie talked a lot. Better to make sure he heard the important things and let the smaller ones slide, wasn’t it?

Like this. Questions about the plan. Belatedly, he realized he’d said Nora’s name. He probably shouldn’t have. She didn’t seem to like people knowing it. But it was a little late to take it back now, and so, so hard to control what came out of his mouth. “She’s at her place,” he mumbled, leaving out the fact that ‘her place’ was a crypt. “Don’t think she needs much time. Don’t think she needs much stuff, either. She’ll know how to do it. Just need to make sure she knows what the necklace looks like.” He rubbed at his eyes, finally starting the car and putting it into drive. “I’m going to drop you off at your club and then get with Nora. I’ll let you know when we’re doing it. We can meet at my place before.” He paused a moment, his grip on the steering wheel the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. “It’ll be soon.” It had to be. Otherwise, there’d be nothing left to save.

_____

Her mind was getting crowded again. Jabbering and cackling and talking all began clashing over one another in her mind, and she buried her face in her hands with a groan. Bridie leaned forward to rest against the dashboard. Screaming back at the voices in her head worked a bit, but she was so damn tired she didn’t know how long she could do it for. And if she had to steal a jewel, she needed as much energy as she could. 

She heard bits and pieces of the plan. Mostly she heard ‘your club,’ and ‘I’ll let you know’, and ‘meet at my place’.  She figured that was enough to piece together what was happening. The faun watched the man grip the steering wheel. She didn’t say anything, but Bridie understood. 

Bridie rarely ever sounded serious. She was too busy having a good time for that. But she placed a hand on the dashboard near the steering wheel. She didn’t touch him, since she knew they were both too ok edge for that. “Then let’s get ourselves out of this mess.” She said slowly. “And when we do, I owe you a drink for giving you a hard time over a stupid ugly necklace.”

[fishyupmywishy]

You are aware that I’m not romanticizing it in anyway, right? You don’t understand what romanticizing means if that’s what you think I’m doing with my fic here.

There’s a difference between bringing awareness and enjoying such things. I’ve been SA’d several times over.

I felt sick writing my own fic because of how much it reminded me of it. I’m glad you think my fic is funny because honestly, if I didn’t make it even somewhat light, I’d actually lose it.

I’ve also gotten permission to disclose this because they also think it’s extremely disturbing the fact you just had the audacity to say that.: The fanfiction that I’m writing is very close to a a very true story that someone I know is going through. They asked me to write this because they want their story known but is too afraid to do it themself. All of the unserious and funny stuff that I wrote had gone through them first.

You’re right, you can use fanfiction as a coping mechanism. I was wrong and hypocritical to say otherwise. But when you expose yourself to more of that type, dark romance and all of that, you’ll only make yourself worse in the long run. Mine isn’t a dark romance in any sense. It’s hardly romance at all. It’s about a girl trying to make sense of herself while having to deal with all of the terrible things that she had done and had been done to her.

I didn’t say that every proshipper was a utomatically a rapist/pedophile. You misterpreted my words. I said that it’s can lead to such things.

Also, did I say just desensitized to fictional things? I meant in real life. I’ll spare you from having to read another article. Though, I doubt you read that one, but that’s okay.

I study psychology, I’ve had discussions with real doctors and researchers over this. I am also in therapy.

Look around you in these recent times. Due to the internet, people have become desensitized to truly terrible things. Murder, rape, literal genocide. You see more people making jokes about it than actually being disturbed.

The thing about every Azula ship being a comship? I’m aware. But I’d rather read and write about that then ever have to read or write about an actual romance about that. Because at the end of the day, the show itself humanizes those characters. Iroh is a beloved character despite being a thousand times worse than Azula. Zuko is literally just as bad as Azula, he just got his redemption arc while she didn’t. I’m not doing anything with the characters that canon hasn’t already done.

I’m also a minor. Calling me a pedophile and a predator is fucking crazy. What’s crazier is that you attempted to “use my own logic” and fucking failed to do so.

You’re personally offended.

If I’ve said anything in the last two post that attacked you directly, I apologize. I had no intention to do so. I was simply trying to explain and might have gotten a tad emotional.

For this post however, I’m not going to since you did essentially start it.

All you’ve done is show me that you both misunderstood my fic and that you also need professional help.

As I said, if you’re using fanfiction is a coping mechanism, you need help. Do whatever you want. Write as much as you want about Azula fucking her mom. It’s none of my business and I can’t control what you do. I wasn’t even targeting anyone specific when I originally posted, I was just sick and tired of seeing it everywhere. The same way you’re sick and tired of most people being disgusted by the thing you enjoy.

I hope you have a nice day, and that you, and every single proshippers out there realizes how messed up the shit they write and read is.

Stay safe, and I hope you’ll one day feel comfortable enough with yourself to stop.

Why is that my favorite ship at the moment (maizulee) have so much incest in the fics??😭

Like, alright, fine, it’s disgusting and I have a deep hatred for proshippers, but do what you want I guess. But the excessive amount Zuko/Azula or Ozai/Azula is actually so gross. Especially the ones that don’t tag it as incest. Seek out professional help or go outside cuz I’m genuinely so done😭

Anyway, if anyone has any long Maizulee fics to recommend WITHOUT incest, please lmk🙏

[saffyspirals]

I’M OVER YOU (NO, THAT’S A LIE)

─────────────────────

about: every time you think you’re over him, he (unknowingly) does something to make you fall for him over again. alternative about: stuff they do to make it impossible for you to stop crushing on them.

a/n: i’m back, with my first tokyorev post of 2022! it’s been SO long, i know, and i’m sorry! lost my mojo, but i’m all good now. clearing out my inbox to start a fresh for the new year, so request away!

2nd a/n: i’m the friend who will tell you they’re over their crush, then come back hours later and explain why they have to take the previous statement back.

includes: wakasa, ran, mikey, sanzu, chifuyu, mitsuya, shinichiro, baji, hanma, takemichi, smiley, koko, inui, draken, rindou, hakkai, kazutora, takuya, akkun, angry & izana!

─────────────────────

wakasa, he — out of nOWHERE calls you cute. you hear him mutter it under his breath, then when you ask him to repeat it, he will. “said you look cuter than usual today. whatever you did, it’s working.” (it’s working? wth does that even mean?!!)

the teacher left your class to go print some papers or something, and someone starts up a class discussion about love. one of the guys asks you if you’re single, and before you can reply, ran jumps in; “nope! y/n is all mine ;)”

mikey hears rumours that you have a crush on someone else and decides to confront you. the rumours aren’t true (i mean, you just stopped liking him), of course. “i heard you like [——-]. what’s so great about him though? people like…i don’t know, me for example are way better!”

you’re walking home with sanzu, and the topic of kissing comes up. he asks if you’ve ever kissed anyone, then calls you a good girl when you tell him you haven’t.

chifuyu goes beet red when the waiter in a cafe he takes you to mistakes you for a couple and recommends you get the extra large milkshake with two straws.

mitsuya DOESN’T correct his little sisters when they start referring to you as you their future sister-in-law. he claims that it’s because his sisters are at the age where they throw tantrums if whenever they get things wrong, but…the twinkle in his eye gives you hope that there’s another reason why he didn’t correct them.

shinichiro suddenly hugs you from behind and asks; “how’s my favourite girl doing?”

when participating in a game of fuck, marry, kiss, baji completely disregards the other two girls involved in the question and says he’d only kiss, marry and fuck you. (he didn’t realise you were listening…your desk isn’t that close to his, but he was talking pretty loud).

hanma has a go at the teacher when he doesn’t put you two together in the new seating plan. he throws a tantrum like a mf child, but actually gets what he wants in the end because your teacher is tired of his noise.

takemichi overhears you complaining about having a bad hair day. “i think your hair looks really pretty though”. he says it without thinking, which gets him embarrassed when he realises what he’s just said, which makes you embarrassed about him being embarrassed—

smiley manages to steal the manga you’re reading from your hands and holds it above your head like a little shit. doesn’t give it back until you admit he’s got the cutest face ever!

you fall up the stairs in front of koko but his laugh is so cute and contagious that you can hardly feel the sting in your knees.

inui asks to share your textbook since he forgot his at home. sits waaay closer than he needs to but that doesn’t matter in the slightest since he smells so divine.

there’s a surprise pop quiz in class, and you just know you failed it. draken, the king of comforting, throws an arm around your shoulder, leans in towards your ear, and promises he probably failed too.

rindou hands you all of his pocket change when he notices you’re struggling to come up with enough coins to get your favourite snack from the vending machine. he’s given way too much, but he insists you keep it, “for the next time your stupid ass forgets to bring money and i’m not around to help.”

you feel like you’ve gotten over him just before your birthday. on the actual day, hakkai gifts you with the sweetest present ever: first, he utters actual words to you; “h-happy birthday, l/n.” second, the actual gift he gives you are a bunch of cards. on each card is a bunch of stuff he’s wanted to say all the time that you’ve been friends, but has been too shy to actually voice to you.

kazutora asks to compare hand sizes, then intertwines your fingers when you’ve put them together. “i just wanted to see what it was like to hold your hand. you don’t mind, right?”

takuya notices that you like wearing rings, and randomly decides to gift you with another. “i thought this silver one would go with the other two you usually wear. what do you think?”

you’ve come into school, hair done badly because you couldn’t be asked to do it nicely, when akkun spots you. he helps you do your hair properly before class. every so often for the rest of the day, you catch him looking at you. each time he’s caught, he goes all red and looks away! (i assume he’s admiring his handiwork!!)

one of your friends pushes you into angry. his hand skips around your waist to steady you. it’s so brief, but he just has the softest look on his face when your eyes meet. he lets you go, clears his throat, and tells you to be more careful next time.

izana pretends he’s stuck on the homework questions so that he can hear you talk. he openly admits that that’s exactly what he was doing when he’s found out too.

[here’s my masterlist ! ]

[harrysgoldrush]

harry, you’re no good alone

MASTERLIST

tag list

stream as it was

he never wanted you to see how tired he was.

harry’s house was very empty, never really having needed to stay there for too long, although you’ve never seemed to care. at the end of a long day, you’d appear: a bright light with juice in one hand and basic groceries in the other.

he’s been worried lately and you’re doing your best to comfort him, even if he pretends he’s fine. that’s why you come over like clockwork, ready to socialize with your favorite neighbor in a world that’s suddenly isolated. you’re always so happy to see him and eager to hear about his exciting life while you make dinner.

harry knew he couldn’t tell you how sad he felt. how alone he was. so he’d just smile and change the subject. ask you how things are going and how much longer you’ll be here. and you hold him close for what feels like the briefest of moments and he wishes he could just fall further into your warmth and stay forever.

because you are always happy, full of energy and his best friend. and you’re leaving.

and today’s been shit. he knew it would be the moment the mailman asked him for your forwarding address. but you know harry much better than he thought and as patient as you are, you also care about him. so when he can’t meet your eyee, you stop him.

“what’s wrong?”

harry wants to tell you. maybe he’s always wanted to. but he can’t. he can’t tell you to stay. he can’t be selfish because this is something you’ve always wanted. he tells himself he can survive being left behind, even if it means not seeing you every day.

“you know i’ll call. every day. you should call me too. whenever you think of it.”

“i’d never hang up.”

“as long as the phone companies charge you, i’d be fine with that. i’d like that a lot, harry.”

you’ve earned a nod of agreement before he begins to fuss with the ingredients you’ve brought over. unsure of how else to make sure he’s okay, you settle into a mildly comfortable silence which makes your usual cooking routine impossible.

“i’ll miss your smile.”

it startles you, and this time it’s you that can’t make eye contact.

“that’s what zoom is for.” that’s not what you want to say. but how can you say it when you know it won’t change anything. “and you can always visit, i don’t plan on finding someone to replace you.”

“it’ll only be a year.”

thats the mantra he’s used to keep him moving for this long. it sounds less rehearsed than it is. but no matter how much he tells himself, he can’t forget that it’s only been the two of you for so long.

“exactly. you’ll hardly notice i’m gone.”

and just when he thinks he’s about to slip, you offer him your hand. it’s warm and gentle and the hot air balloon you both need to stop from falling. because things are changing for you and things have changed with the two of you. he found you when you were at your lowest and he was the light at the end of the tunnel. and you recognize the look in his eyes, even if you’ve tried your hardest to look on the bright side. because how could anyone fill the space he’s taken in your life.

and it’s like a sucker punch to the gut. because you haven’t really known him at all. because he has loved you as much as you’ve loved him. and now you know what you’ve done because how could you decide to leave when he’s been waiting here for you all this time?

“i would stay if you asked.”

he wants to. god he’d fall on his knees and beg you to but he can’t be selfish with you. not when you’ve done so much for him.

“i know. i don’t want to be alone.”

“two days with me and that’s the one thing you’d want most of all.” a joke is the only thing you can manage with how he’s holding your hand.

“never.”

“can you wait any longer?”

“for you? always.”

he knows he’s losing you. but you’ve given him hope, even if it might not last. you both hope it will. this time you’re generous with your time, your arms wrap around him and for the first time, his house feels like home.

[biancadjarin]

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince

Chapter 1 : Kiss it Better

🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹

Part 2 here

Pairing : EM x Popular cheerleader

You’re reorganizing the shelves in the nurses office on a Thursday afternoon. You started spending your free periods after lunch here to get some extra service hours and to make your mom happy, a nurse herself. This day in particular you’re the only volunteer and it’s pretty quiet. Occasionally someone will come in with a headache needing some advil or a bandaid for a cut. So you’ve gotten really good at getting a head start on your homework while you spend your 5th period in here.

You’re turning the page in your geometry textbook when you hear a knock. Before you can stand to open the door, it’s swinging open and the school freak, Eddie Munson, is ducking into the room. “Hey I-” he glances at you before doing a double take “I- uh”. “Oh my god” you rush over to him and look at the blood running down his cheek and caked on his knuckles. “Come in, sit down here.” He winces, walking holding his side and slowly sits on the paper covered bench. “Thanks.” You smile at him, grabbing some gauze, alcohol, and a few other things from the cabinet. You quickly wash your hands and you can hear his labored breathing behind you. He sucks air in through his teeth as he squeezes his eyes and exhales with a little whine. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon.” You assure him. “What happened?” He sucks his teeth “Got in a fight after Jason said some shit in the cafeteria. I’m so tired of that guy.”

“Oh…” you know Jason since you’re on the cheerleading team but you’re not really a fan of his. He treats your friend Chrissy like crap and you’ve spent more than one night at her house wiping her tears away after he’s said something stupid and hurt her gentle feelings. But you don’t feel the need to tell Eddie how you really feel.

Especially since it’s getting kind of hard to form thoughts. You’ve had a little crush on Eddie since you first met him last year when you were the new girl in town. A lot of guys had tried to talk to you, asked to take you out but none of them were who you wanted. Someone mysterious, charismatic, passionate, funny. You wanted Eddie. And then when the whole “hot, new girl” buzz wore off and the douches started to leave you alone, you focused more on classes and cheerleading, putting finding a boyfriend in the back of your mind. But you’ve always harbored this crush on Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were the type to get into fights..” He snorts, “s’not like you know much about me at all.” You raise your eyebrows and nod, beginning to dab at the cut on his cheekbone. He felt bad, he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he just meant the two of you didn’t interact much. He’d like for that to be different. But why would a sweet, popular girl like you ever even want to look in his direction? You continue to wipe the dried blood off his cheek and he sucks in a breath when you clean it with alcohol soaked gauze. “Sorry, but this will help it not get infected.” you say sweetly. He nods slowly watching your face as you furrow your brow and bite your bottom lip as you focus on his injury. Your heart starts to beat faster when you feel his eyes take in your face, his gaze falling to your lips and neck. You subtly squeeze your boobs together as you lean forward, hoping he notices your cleavage peeking out of your v-neck. His eyes dip down before blinking and looking towards the ceiling.

He clears his throat, “You um- you were in my English class last year? Y/N right?” “Mhm” you nod. Eddie had sat in the back of that class and hardly paid attention, when he bothered to show up at all. “You were always the first one to raise your hand when Mr. Brown asked a question.” He smiles, his memory of you distracting him from the throbbing in his hand. You feel your cheeks burn. Was he watching me in class? “Y-yeah I um.. English is my favorite subject.” He flashes a smile at you as you rub neosporin on his cheek. “Course it is princess”. His little nickname makes your heart skip a beat. You place a bandaid on his cheek, scooting back in your chair to take a look at your work. “Not me. I flunked that class. And most of my classes last year. S’why I’m here this year. Again.” He lifts his hands to emphasize. “Ahhh-“ he winces as he remembers the state of his knuckles. “Ok ok funny guy, try to keep still. Your cheek’s gonna be ok, just keep it clean, ice it when you get home and try not to get punched in the face again for at least a week ok?” He chuckles. “I’ll try.”

His eyes softening as he looks into yours. You feel a flurry of butterflies swirl in your stomach. How can someone so tough and scary have such sweet puppy dog eyes? You shake your head, pushing that thought away, “Do you think anything’s broken? Can you bend your fingers?” You gently slip his metal rings off of each finger and place them delicately on a paper towel. He flexes his fingers and shakes his head, poofy brown hair curling around his face. “Don’t think they’re broken.” You nod. You take his hand in yours and begin to clean. You scrunch your your nose and tell him “This is going to burn.” His lips form a little o as he exhales a gust of breath “ok I’m ready.” You pour alcohol on his knuckles and his other hand flies to your knee and squeezes. “Jesus! Fuck!” “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But we’re almost done.” You examine his knuckles closer, mostly just scraped up really, no bones or anything seriously broken. He grunts in response, his eyes screwed shut and his free hand still resting on your leg. You feel his thumb start to absentmindedly rub a rough circle on your thigh and your mind goes blank. All you can focus on is him touching you. You grab the cream and gauze. He peeks at his hand, exhaling in relief that it’s almost over. His eyes watch as your delicate fingers finish massaging the cream into his knuckles before wrapping his hand with gauze. “You’re really good at this.” Eddie says. “Well one upside to watching a lot of horror movies. Blood doesn’t gross me out like it does most people”. You smooth your fingertips over the wrappings to make sure it’s tight and then you smile at him, remembering what your mom always used to do when you would get hurt. You gently lift his hand with both of yours and give his knuckles a delicate kiss. He exhales a breath that he’d been holding in with a small laugh. “Sorry that was so weir-“ You say standing up and rushing to wash your hands again. Anything to hide your reddening face. “No, no, it wasn’t. That made it better” he smiled. That perfect Eddie smile. “Do you kiss everyone’s booboos?” He teases. You turn around and shake your head, “No actually”. “Well then I’m honored! But I think my cheek could feel a little better too…” he taps his pointer finger on the bandage there. The butterflies are going crazy in your stomach but you turn around and look at him. You step towards him and rest your hand on his denim covered chest, ready to lean towards his bandage covered cheek when you hear a banging on the door. “Eddie Munson are you in there?!” Your eyes go wide as you walk towards the door and open it. Principal Higgins towers over you as he shoots Eddie a look over your shoulder. “Fighting in the cafeteria and then hiding out in the nurse’s office? Honestly Eddie when are you going to grow up?” “I wasn’t hidi-“ “Enough! My office, let’s go!” Higgins turns and leads the way towards his office as Eddie rolls his eyes and begins to follow. He stops in front of you, his face inches from yours. “Thanks again princess.” He whispers with a weak smile as his hand reaches out to grab yours. He lightly rubs your thumb before letting go, disappearing into the hall. You begin to clean up the mess left from fixing Eddie up when something shiny catches your eyes. Eddie forgot his rings.

Once again my colorful conversations are inspired by the adorable @princesssmimi go read her stuff !