#everyone is much too kind and it's a bit intimidating but also very cool

[platoapproved]

Not to be emotionally vulnerable on main but I was talking with @marbleflan about it this morning and I think it's worth saying aloud - it's been YEARS since I got this deep into a fandom, and part of that is of course Interview with the Vampire being great television, but more of it is the fandom itself.

I reinstalled Photoshop on a whim, hadn't made a gifset in years, thinking I'd do a one-off and that's it. But then everyone was SO enthusiastic and funny and engaged and kind in the tags, even when I was feeling very self-conscious about the quality of stuff I was making. So I tentatively made another, and people I didn't even know kept on being so friendly and welcoming.

It's probably been 5 years since I actually like... met and followed new people from first interacting in fandom spaces, and it's such an exciting and also a bit scary thing. The last month or so has been a real blast and I've met so many folks that I'm excited to get to know and just. I'm feeling really really grateful I guess. 😭

[urinarythreatinfection]

All the child fics I see have the child as a little ray of sunshine that’s loved to pieces by everyone, but I think it would be a little funny if they found a kid that was rather awkward instead. If you have any suggestions on other awkward kid reader like scenarios or other characters go ahead and request.

Shanks, Buggy, and Smoker with an Awkward!Child Reader.

Shanks

“Oh! Hey, there’s some kids here.” Shanks crouches down and speaks to you, but you quickly shake your head. “Listen, I know you aren’t the best at socializing but just try it out. Just for a bit?” He’s a bit worried, you don’t get to be with other kids much being on the Red Force. Looking into his eyes you start to feel a bit guilty, eventually nodding your head. Shanks smiles brightly “Great! C’mon, I’ll make sure you’re safe, okay?” He picks you up and goes over to the kids playing. Once you’re both close enough he sets you down, but you just stand there. He gives you a little push and you stiffly walk to the kids. They spot you and you freeze.

“Huh? Who are you?” They walk over to you and you go as still as possible. “Hello?” One of the kids waves a hand in front of your face but you just stand there like a statue. Shanks looks on, worried that you’ll get bullied. He shakes his head.

‘No, I should have faith in them as their father.’ He thinks to himself as the kids gather around the new strange child. They just kind of stare at you. One of the kids pokes you and you flinch.

“They move! How do you get all frozen like that, are you made of stone?” Your eyes slowly trail to your dad, nervous. He just gives you a thumbs up. Shanks gets approached by someone.

“Chief? Oh it’s you!” Shoot, he’s starting to get recognized, this damn hair. He has to entertain them a bit before they finally go away. Shanks quickly looks back to you, worried. The kids have.. started stacking things on you.

“Woahh…”The kids marvel at you. You have multiple blocks on your head, your stillness keeping them from falling. That’s… one way to socialize I guess. Your record is 10 blocks.

Mihawk

Mihawk holds you in his arms, he had taken you in a few months ago even before Cross Guild. To be honest, he was hesitant to bring you with him, but it was already known he had a child by this point. It’s safer to keep you where he can be with you, it’s one of the reasons he joined. Having a stable place to stay is best for you. Another worry he had is that the clown and Crocodile would be a bad influence on you, that you would turn into some sort of delinquent. Children can be unpredictable, and easily manipulated. However, that ended up not being the case. In fact, they seemed to be a good influence. Not because they were passing on good features, no, it was simply because you disliked them enough that you marked them as “bad examples”, he couldn’t be more relieved. It’s unfortunate you don’t make friends but this is better than becoming anything like Buggy or Crocodile. They had even attempted to appeal to you, trying to befriend you to have some sort of connection to Mihawk. Buggy so that Mihawk would be softer on him, Crocodile so that Mihawk would have incentive to be loyal. It didn’t work out. Crocodile realized very fast you were terrified of him, he isn’t the best with children either; and there’s too much risk trying to get close to you when your father hates when you’re scared. Buggy however…

“Hey, kid, here.” Buggy offers you candy, you stare at it then slowly back away, clearly uncomfortable. “Ah, uhhh.. What about this?” He starts to juggle, but you also look nervous, looking away. ‘This damn brat, aren’t kids supposed to like clowns?’ He curses in his head, but keeps a smile on his face. Finally, in one last effort, he pulls off his head and starts to do tricks with his limbs. “See? Cool isn’t i-” When he looks at the spot you were in you’re gone, like a mouse that skittered away. “God dammit, fucking kid.” Right as he says that he feels an intimidating presence behind him, hawk eyes digging into his back. He might be fucked.

Smoker

“Sea prism works on devil fruit users like Captain Smoker and this person. That’s why you don’t have to be scared, they can’t do anything to you.” Tashigi explains to you, holding the sea prism cuffs. She’s babysitting you for a bit while Smoker is taking care of business since you can’t exactly be left alone at your age. You had gotten startled by a prisoner being led to jail earlier, so she was explaining how they’re harmless with the cuffs on; even showing them to you. “You want to hold them?” You slowly nod and hold them in your little hands, they’re kind of heavy. While you’re looking at them Tashigi looks to the door, Smoker is back. “Ah Captain Smoker you’re ba-”

Click

…Oops. You put them on by accident. Immediately you start to panic, trying to get them off your wrist. “Ah, wait, I can just take them off for you. Stand still!” You’re panicking too much though, waving your arm around while Smoker sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Before she can grab you though, you end up flinging the cuff off of your wrist. It was too big to fit you anyway, the key wasn’t needed. Unfortunately, you end up flinging them directly at your dad, hitting him on the head. He flinches and falls back, the sea prism making him weak. “Captain Smoker!” He falls to the ground and you freak out like a startled cat, running around the office while knocking things over. Tashigi, flustered, doesn’t know what to do first. The cuffs slide off of his body and he moves again, grabbing you by the back of your shirt like a kitten. “I’m so sorry, sir I didn’t think-” He raises a hand to stop her.

Your father looks at you, your face guilty, and sighs. “It’s fine.” The office is a mess now, it’s actually a bit impressive. At least he doesn’t have to worry about people catching you. “No more cuffs.” He’ll worry about the office later, you’re more important.

[kymerawrites]

HIGHSCHOOL SIMON! X READER

Saw this edit and needed to make a canon of this, what if Simon had a GF before he went into the military (and still has)

Simon was invited to a party on Saturday, and to be real, he didn’t really want to go he was considered as one of the weirder but hotter kids, lots of scars, and didn’t like to be seen. Yet he had a lot of ‘friends’, It was a bunch of people who he was friendly with, but wouldn’t exactly call them friends.

The party went on, for the most part it was pretty boring. He stood in the corner, observing. That’s when you showed up. You really popular, they invited you because they all wanted to be seen with you, you had that queen B energy.

He watched you walk into the house, as he had a beer in his one hand, and his phone in the other. He kept his gaze on you, before he noticed people already surrounding you. He stayed where he was in the corner, taking sips from his beer as he watched from the sidelines while leaning on the wall, watching with his intense brown eyes.

He observed as everyone talked with you, like you were their queen. He snorted, they all acted so tough but he knew they all thought you were attractive. Even Simon, but unlike them, he didn’t have any interest in being with you and acting like he was above everyone. He was more on the quiet side who took action through violence if needed, he was intimidating, but not the kind to take advantage of people.

He watched you talk and laugh with everyone, he didn’t know what it was about you but something about your attitude intrigued him, you were beautiful, but there was just something he couldn’t place. So he decided to go for it. As he walked over to you, still holding the beer in his hand. Standing over you. “Hey.” his voice was a low gravely tone, but he also had a bit of a British accent. He spoke to you specifically, he didn’t care much for the friends you had at the moment. They already annoyed him.

Before you could say anything, one of your friends, Mike, scoffed as he smirked at Simon. “What do you think you’re doing here, Riley? You look greasy as always.” Mike taunted, his friends behind him laughing a little as Simon rolled his eyes, still staring at you.

I looked at Mike with an expression that said shut up “oh you’re Simon right? We’re in the same sports class if I remember correctly..”

He nodded his head, glancing back at Mike and his friends, and giving a quick look that said ‘screw you’. Before he looked back at you again.”Yeah, we are.” he said simply as he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders before taking a sip of his beer.

I smiled kindly to Simon “well I must say when those military guys showed up at sports you were amazing! Sadly I got 5th place in their small introduction.”

If you were paying attention you could see a small smile on his face, of course you had to notice it, the man was cold stone to everyone else. “That isn’t unfortunate, fifth place is good, only four others were ahead of you. Besides, fifth place, you were the top four of everyone else in the class, that’s pretty good. I should know, I got first place after all.” He said, taking another sip of his beer.

“How about you come sit down?” He spoke as he nodded over to the couch. “We can have a few beers, and talk. If you want.” He added on as he gave you a small shrug of his shoulders. Of course he thought you were probably the hottest person at school, but he was not someone who would make a move very easily, too shy and collected, so he would wait for you to make a move first, that’s just how he was.

“I would love to my feet hurt in these heels!” I said

He took a seat on the couch, a little nervous, but he felt this was the only way he’d be able to talk with you without your friends around and making it weird. Besides, the way he was sitting, you could clearly see the muscles on his broad chest under the hoodie he gestured you to sit down

He was a little nervous, sure he was sitting down and being cool on the outside but he was a bit of a mess on the inside. He didn’t know what to say next, he knew you were very popular and people probably tried to impress you as much as they could, how was he supposed to impress you? He took a sharp intake of breath, looking down at the beer in his one hand before looking back at you. “You want to try some beer?” He offered it over to you.

I looked uncomfortable at the beer “well uh… I’m more of a cocktail person but sure?”

He blinked his eyes, as it took a moment for his brain to process what you said. In reality he felt like an idiot, he had been so focused on you to realize that you didn’t even like his favorite drink. “Oh, yeah, there are some cocktails in the kitchen, I think.” He chuckled a bit as he took a sip of his beer, still holding the beer out for you to take some sips of.

I shook my head “no! No!” I laughed she really knew how to impress me somehow, the mystery guy has some moves “I need to learn how to drink pints because college is not cocktails but beer pingpong I heard”

Simon was surprised by the fact that he somehow charmed you. He was not expecting to do that at all, but he did, so he kept going, taking another sip of his beer as he grinned a bit in his normal stoic and almost intimidating way. “Well, it would be my pleasure to give you a lesson on beer pong, or any sort of drinking games. I’m not going to college, but I know a few good ones.” He said with a small smirk, leaning back on the couch.

As he leaned back on the couch, he accidentally brushed your arm with his. You could notice how big his biceps were from that small brush alone, this man was packing, as the saying goes.”Are you going on to college?” He asked curiously as he took another sip of his beer, his brown eyes almost drilling into yours as he watched you. His body was tense, but he was still trying his utmost best to be composed. He did not want to mess this up.

I was thinking, no one ever asked me this question “well uh.. I guess I want to go to Umiami or somewhere, but my deep desire is to travel the world.”

His eyes widened a tiny bit, he was clearly surprised to hear that you wanted to travel the world. He took another sip of beer as he nodded his head slowly. “Well, that is quite ambitious. I like that.” He said as he took a moment to think it over in his head. “I’m not so sure I’d want to go to college. It’s not my thing. Traveling the world seems like a much better option though.” He said in his low, gravelly voice as he watched you closely.

As he watched closely, he knew you were definitely popular for a reason. You were the total package, beautiful, good grades, personality, and you were pretty nice to hangout with. Sure he only just met you and this was your first conversation, but he was not exactly the kind of guy who had many friends, so having someone who wasn’t scared of him made him feel different, feel good. He licked his lips. This would have been a good moment, if Mike hadn’t interjected again.

Mike had a big, annoying smirk planted on his face as he watched you in Simon’s peripheral vision. “Having trouble there, Riley?” He mocked in Simon’s direction as Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes. He’d love to punch that stupid face right now, but he couldn’t as you were here, and he was trying to keep up his gentleman look for you, to impress you. “Piss off, Mike.” He stated in pure irritation.

Mike rolled his eyes as he looked towards you now, looking at you with the same dumb smirk. “Hey, how about you ditch this greaseball for the rest of the party? You’d have a much better time with me. I’m the Quarterback after all, I know how to have real fun. Besides, it’s always nice to have the top score girl with me.” Mike bragged as he gave you a wink, trying to impress you with his ‘charm’.

I cringed at Mike, he was mean and had a huge ego. “Mike not now.” I firmly said

Mike’s attitude changed instantly once you spoke up to him, he gave a slight scoff at first before he nodded his head and smirked again. “Alright, alright, we’ll just catch up later, yeah?” He said as he turned, heading back over to his friends. He was trying to put up his cool act, but in reality he was quite annoyed that Simon was able to get you before he did, he had hoped you’d be distracted by the party.

Once he was away, Simon let out a growl. He was really annoyed with Mike, that man was a pain to deal with. He wasn’t sure why he even showed up to the party itself, it was just his luck that the first time he tried to impress someone, Mike would annoy him. “Sorry about him. That man’s an ass, and an idiot.” He scoffed as he took another sip from the drink.

I rolled my eyes “trust me I know, I try to keep it nice because he’s my friend but I understand your feelings.”

Simon nodded his head, he understood keeping it nice because he’s your friend, he wasn’t exactly a friend of Mike’s. “You’re a better person than me because of that, I have no idea how you can put up with that guy. He’s such a pain in the ass, and I’ve only really talked with him a handful of times. I can’t imagine having to deal with him for such a long time.” He scoffed as he looked down at his beer in his hands again.

“How exactly did your friendship with him start, anyway?” He asked as he looked back over to you, his curious nature getting the better of him. He couldn’t understand how anyone could even get along with such an unpleasant person, he just couldn’t understand it, and he wanted to know the answer. How could they end up becoming friends? That was an unlikely friendship if he ever saw one.

I grabbed his beer out of the hand and started drinking, I tried not to give a sour face because this beer tasted awful “same friend group, kind of a hierarchy shit you see in movies I guess..”

Seeing you drink from his beer took him by surprise. He hadn’t expected that, but if he was being honest, the fact that your lips had been on what his lips touched moments before was kind of hot in his mind, he tried shaking the idea from his head. “Oh, I guess that makes a little sense.” He said with a small shrug of his shoulders as he watched you drink again.

I don’t know if it was the beer or just me and I looked at him head to toe “the scars, the hoodie.. why?”

His eyes widen slightly as he looks at you, surprised by your question. He didn’t expect you to ask, most people didn’t. He gave a heavy sigh as he looked down for a moment as if thinking of what to say. “I don’t really like people seeing my scars. They’re not exactly pleasant on the eyes.” He said in a low, gravelly voice as he looked down, his shoulders slumped down as he looked away from you completely.

Seeing him look down made you realize he didn’t exactly like the scars, he was ashamed of them. This made you sympathize for him as you reached out to run your fingers over his left muscular arm. Scars covered it, and he flinched a bit at the feeling, but he didn’t pull his arm away, he simply watched your hand touch his arm.

“It’s not something to be ashamed of, it means you survived something and it has a meaningful story. Keep that in your head from now on.” I said trying to lighten the mood

The feeling of your fingers tracing along his scars made him shiver a bit, but this time it wasn’t from being uncomfortable. He felt good. He let out a small huff of a chuckle. “Well, I guess you aren’t wrong there. I’ll try to remember that next time someone comments on them.” He said with a very small smile creeping onto his face as he looked down at the hand tracing on his scars.

He slowly felt himself relax as he watched your hand slowly trace along his scars. It felt as though your touch was healing in a way, his muscles relaxed and felt less tense. “You sure do know how to make things seem lighter than they are.” He said with a small chuckle as he slowly looked back up at you, meeting your eyes with his brown ones. He couldn’t help it, he was entranced by your eyes, they were hypnotizing.

I smiled and looked in my bag and saw the 2 pre-rolls Mike’s friend gave me earlier in the night I took them out of my bag and lit one up “seems we need to lighten it more. Here have some.”

Simon’s eyes widened, and he looked at the joint you were holding out for him to take. He looked surprised at first, but then he slowly took it, bringing it up to his lips, and taking a long puff and letting out the smoke after a couple seconds, his brown eyes closing as the smoke left his mouth. He took a moment to let that stuff into his lungs before he opened his eyes back up, and looked at you. “I didn’t know you did that kind of thing. Interesting.” He said as he took another puff, a small grin forming on his face.

I chuckled, I loved how he knew nothing at all it felt amazing to just be me “I’m a woman full of surprises”

He chuckled a small laugh as he leaned a bit closer to you as he took another puff, inhaling the smoke before exhaling it out again, he was getting more relaxed around you now thanks to the drugs. “Now that I like.” He said with a small smile, his dark brown eyes looking over you with intense interest and desire, the drugs had just enhanced his feelings for you, and he was feeling them now.

He took another puff as he felt his brain beginning to get clouded, he didn’t care at the moment, all that mattered was being near you and talking with you for now, not whatever else was going on. He was feeling a bit high now, his eyes a bit glazed over and heavy. He looked over you again with a lustful look in his eyes.

His heart was beating faster, the drugs were making him feel a rush, and combined with how beautiful you were making it stronger. He was trying to keep his cool, but his feelings were overriding his cool attitude. “Damn… you’re so gorgeous…” he said in a gravelly voice, the words almost slipping out of his mouth by accident as he exhaled the smoke from the joint. It was a bit of a mistake on his part, but it was what he really felt.

He leaned in closer to you, his head spinning from the drugs and the alcohol combined. However it just felt good. Everything was perfect right now. He leaned in closer to you, still looking at you in your eyes, he didn’t care if you pushed up away, his whole focus right now was just on you. “You’re the only thing around right now that matters..” he said with heavy breath, his intense brown eyes staring deep into yours.

With all caution thrown to the wind, he leaned in to press you into a deep, intense kiss. The drugs and alcohol had affected his brain to the point where he threw any sort of logic away and just followed his emotions fully. He wanted to kiss you so badly, he wanted to hold you and never let go, he never felt this before.

The kiss was intense, his lips on yours, his tongue slipping out and sliding along yours, as he put his arm around your waist and used his other free hand to hold your face. He held the kiss on your lips, he never wanted to stop as his heart pounded in his chest.

I stopped mid kiss “let’s get out of here and go to my car, shall we?” I smiled also being heavily clouded by the pre rolls

His head was still spinning, but he was brought back to reality as you pulled away from the kiss, but his mind was still not fully there. He slowly nodded his head as his brain began to process your question. “Sounds great…” he replied in a breathy and clouded voice as he took a deep puff of the joint before putting it out on the table beside the chair he was sitting in.

With the pre roll out, he stood up and stumbled for a moment, being quite drunk and high at the same time did a number on him, but then he regained his balance. He looked down at you with his hands inside of the pockets of his hoodie as he slowly looked down at you with the same clouded expression and intense brown eyes full of lust and desire, wanting only one thing from you now.

“Lead the way…” he muttered, waiting for you to start towards the front door, his mind filled with nothing but wanting you alone with him in your car, he wanted you all to himself.

As he followed you towards the car, he was still stumbling a bit, but he managed to stay upright and follow you outside to your car. Once he got outside, he took a deep breath of the warm night air and groaned softly, it felt amazing in his lungs. He then continued to follow you over to your car, his eyes never leaving your body as he did.

Once he got to the car, he leaned back against the backseat door as he watched you unlock the car to get inside, his eyes scanning down your body, taking in every inch of you with his eyes, committing that image to memory as he got more and more excited to be alone with you.

As the lock clicked off, he watched as you opened the door, he couldn’t control himself any longer, he couldn’t wait to get inside the car.  He lunged at you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you up against him, pulling you in for another deep kiss. His tongue immediately slid across your lips, trying to force its way into your mouth as he desperately made out with you against the side of the car.

His body was pressed up against you as his hand slipped under your shirt, feeling your bare skin against his hand as he slowly slid his hand further up your body. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along yours passionately as his body burned with need for yours, he needed you now, more than ever.

As his hand slid up your stomach, he felt your muscles underneath your skin, he felt you shiver a bit under his touch, which made him almost melt. He continued sliding his hand further up, wanting to feel more of you. He was so hungry for you now, he couldn’t get enough of you.

Suddenly, his hand reached your breast, he gasped slightly as he felt it under his palm, the feeling of you made him feel as though he had gone to heaven and back all in a matter of seconds. He groaned softly as he deepened the kiss further, his body pushed up against yours as he got even more desperate for you.

As he felt your breath on his face, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you, now. He kissed you even rougher for a few more moments before he pulled away, his breath heavy and his eyes cloudier than ever before. “Get in the car…” he mumbled, his gravelly voice low and huskier than before as he watched you with hazy, intense eyes.

As he said this, he quickly pushed the passenger side door behind him open before he wrapped his arm around your waist a bit roughly to pull you into the back seat of the car with him. He slammed the door behind him, his hands still holding onto your waist as he sat you down right in front of him.

I got rid of my shirt and skirt I was so hazy from the drugs yet I wanted him, the feeling of his muscles were amazing.

As you climbed into the car in front of him, his hands still holding your waist as he pushed you down on your back on the back seat. His brain was foggy from the drugs and alcohol, and his body was completely overwhelmed by his own desire for you. As you got rid of your shirt and skirt, his eyes widened slightly and his mouth went slack, looking at you. He couldn’t believe his eyes at your sudden boldness.

His eyes slowly roamed down over your now exposed body, taking in every inch of you. He was overwhelmed with the desire to touch you, to taste you, to make you his. He reached out a hand to softly brush his fingers up your thigh, his touch warm and light as he looked down at you, his own muscular body looming over your now nearly naked form.

His eyes roamed again, his fingers brushing higher up your thigh as he slowly reached up further and further to touch more of your bare skin. He slowly moved himself as he got over your hips, pushing his own hips against yours as he leaned down over you, his face right above yours as he hovered above you.

His breath was heavy as he hovered there, his breath mingling with yours as he looked down at you. His hazy eyes scanning over your figure laying underneath him, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, it was almost unfair. He slowly leaned down, his head moving to the crook of your neck as he started to trail kisses down it, his body pressing up against yours.

His kisses were soft and heated, as his body pressed against yours heavily, he couldn’t get enough of you. He felt as though he was obsessed and couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth began to move lower, trailing down over your collarbones, across your chest and down to your stomach, his arms slowly running along your sides to feel your skin under his fingertips.

He continued to trail kisses along your skin, wanting to worship every inch of you, wanting to make you feel so good you were left breathless. His mouth moved down, until he reached your stomach, where he began to leave more soft kisses along the muscles of it, his teeth occasionally grazing against your skin lightly.

His body pushed up against yours as he moved down further, his tongue slowly trailing down between your hip bones, the feeling of him against you making you whimper softly, he was determined to make you moan for him, he wanted to hear what all the different sounds you could make would sound like.

And I did I felt so aroused by him “si..” I whimpered

He groaned softly at your whimper, the sound was music to his ears, as he felt his own excitement increase as he felt his own desire growing by the second. His tongue continued to slowly slide against your underwear, wanting to hear more of those wonderful noises from you.

His tongue continued to move, his breaths becoming heavier as his heart beat faster, he couldn’t get enough of you. He needed to taste more, he slowly licked at your underwear, wanting to push further to taste you directly, his tongue slowly began to get you through your underwear and tasted you directly, his body pressing up against you as he groaned softly into your sensitive flesh, his mind hazy with desire for you, he couldn’t concentrate at all, the only thing

That mattered was your reactions to his touches, he slowly pressed deeper with it, his body moving up to be closer to you, his arms moving up and wrapping around your waist, his muscles flexing as he slowly moved, trying to get deeper

His hips moved up yours, slowly, as his grip around your waist tightened slightly more as he slowly grinded against you, needing to feel your body against his, it drove him crazy not having enough of you.

His mouth continued to slowly work at you, his groans into your sensitive area making you quiver at the feeling, his tongue and mouth working together to get you closer to release, he couldn’t get enough of you right now.

“Shit si… undo your pants right now.” I commanded

At your command, he wasted no time in moving right away, his excitement getting the best of him as he groaned and quickly moved his hands away from your waist and down to his pants, undoing the fly of his sweats.

“Just can’t get enough of me, huh?” He said, his voice having that same gravelly sound to it, and a little rougher than usual, he was still so excited, and yet he couldn’t stop that teasing comment from coming out. He smirked as he leaned back down over you, his chest against yours as his hips were now right up against yours.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips passionately as he let out a little growl against your mouth, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close against him as he kept kissing you.

His kisses were rough and a bit needy, you could tell that he was desperate for your touch, and as hard as he tried to hide that, he couldn’t as he moaned softly into your softly into your mouth, he was losing himself to you and he loved it.

His body pressed against you, pressing you down into the backseat as his hands moved up you, touching and feeling your skin, he couldn’t get enough of touching you, his hand slid a bit up your back to feel along your spine.

His kisses were needier now, deeper, as he let his tongue out to slide across yours, he loved how you tasted, and now he couldn’t get enough of you, he deepened the kiss further as his tongue swirled around yours, his body pressing even closer to yours.

He groaned into your mouth from his own excitement, loving the way your moans tasted in his mouth. He kept his body pressed close to yours as his hips started rolling against yours, moaning softly from just the feel of your body against his.

He started to grind in your cunt, he couldn’t take it anymore and wanted you so bad.

He was huge, a swollen cock with a lot of precum, as he inserts himself (sorry Bridgerton joke) you felt his inches on your walls. It felt amazing, how could such a man who lived in the shadows give the best sex ever?

I moaned and we both were close to release “si.. I can’t.. take it longer..” I moaned him in me felt so good It felt just right

After a while we both had our climax a little after eachother.

The rest was history, all junior and senior year we dated, totally in love. Yet I noticed he started to cover himself more and more, becoming distant. Until I got the news

“I am deployed in the military.”

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you��� Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[idolomantises]

Have you watched Murder Drones, and if so what’s your opinion on it?

Also your art is great, keep it up.

Thank you!

And uh. Man. I may make an enemy out of another indie fandom because I don’t really like this show.

I actually loved the pilot and thought episodes 1-3 were incredible, if a bit too fast paced. But episode 4 was kind of a breaking point for me and I dropped off after that.

I don’t think it’s very funny. I think it relies too much on Bathos and it makes it hard to take its cast seriously. As a black comedy it mostly worked for episodes 1-3, but 4? No.

It does this thing I really despise in media where it has themes of genocide but like… heavily deprioritizes it and often portrays it like a comedy. It’s supposed to be funny when innocent characters are murdered because they’re just goofy side characters but when it’s a major character suddenly we have to care, and I don’t like that at all. The main character has a meltdown over finding out that murder drones are sent to kill her people at the end of the pilot, and then in episode 4 she’s murdering her classmates and crying because a boy she likes might think she’s weird. I actually find it pretty frustrating that the robots are portrayed as incredibly cowardly because they’re slowly dying off and scared to die and then they’re hanging out with V who casually murders random children and nobody reacts to it.

I actually do like the idea of a character who’s not reformed but is kind of forced to stick around but when I see her murder characters, traumatize children and then go “haha I just have mental problems” and everyone just… moves on, I just cannot bring myself to care. It causes such a massive dissonance and not in a fun way.

I think it’s very frustrating and unengaging when a story about people doing the right thing and trying to help others has no interest in helping those they’re trying to save.

I think the female cast is solid but I did kind of raise my eye a bit when the only major female character that was killed off was a victim of genocide while the other genocidal characters, two of which gleefully murdered her fucking parents, are just allowed to hang out with the rest of the cast. Uzi especially lost a lot of sympathy for me when she was more emotional about freaking out N than murdering her classmates. Like yeah, they weren’t the nicest to her but it’s weird to establish a character wants to end genocide and then… barely reacts when they also indulge in that genocide.

I don’t really like the characters at all. I don’t like Uzi, I found N irritating and boring (and gives me anime harem protagonist vibes), I thought V was a tryhard and I couldn’t really care for the rest of the cast. I liked Doll but lol, you know how that turned out.

It also has this problem of having an overloaded cast with very little breathing room. I really wish the show just had one, low stakes episode, so we can actually get to know these characters and collect their thoughts. It’s actually one of my concerns for TADC, because as much as I do like that show, I think “no filler” with constant story is going to make or break the show for me. It’s too fast paced and no, I don’t think it’s good that you have to rewatch an episode 4 times to understand what’s going on. I don’t watch indie shows to play where’s Waldo, information should be explained to the audience in a way that feels digestible and natural.

The animation is incredible and the stuff that came out from the finale was insane, but at times it just felt like jangling keys in my face. Like don’t pay attention to rushed story, underdeveloped characters and bizarre tonal whiplash, look at the cool fights. I dont think it does horror well either. In fact I kind of cringe a bit when characters a big wide grins and giggle evilly and it’s mean to be intimidating and it just. Doesn’t work. Feels a bit juvenile honestly.

And. This is a very personal thing. I don’t like the robot designs.

[heartmaddie]

parfum d'étoiles | k.akaashi

introductions; the miseducation of bokuakakurotsukkiken

⋆｡°✩ keiji akaashi

he loves 'all about lily chou chou' and 'neon genesis evangelion' , a bit of a loser but it's commonly understood across the campus that he's quite attractive. keiji wears thrifted, archival fashion, but also buys modern clothing - doesn't indulge in fast fashion. he wears women's pants that he thrifts and he shares clothes with tsukishima a lot but they're sometimes baggy on him. he used to drink a lot of coffee, but switched to genmaicha right before university started. has a dog named pochi , breed is undecided (akaashi likes cats too but his mom likes dogs). he really likes kiyoko's sense of style and buys from her depop often - also is a deep reader and helps tsukishima with his booktok account.

⋆｡°✩ kei tsukishima

he made a booktok account as a joke to clown on colleen hoover but then blew up (i think of daniel yeo when i think of tsuki as a creator), he's just been posting occasionally since then but has a nice following he enjoys interacting with. tsukishima is a big fan of cable knit sweats and corduroy pants, he dresses quite casually but owns a couple of more expensive pieces, all thrifted not made to wear. even though he doesn't care about his own fashion, he loves buying the photography archives of fashion designers and looks through them often. he likes chai lattes or oolong tea. he likes a range of music, but focuses on radiohead the most. he hates a lot of mainstream booktok books , colleen hoover, icebreaker etc, but also hates murakami , dazai and bukowski.

⋆｡°✩ tetsuro kuroo

he's kind of cool if you try to forget the fact that he actively tries so seem cooler. suffers from soo much fomo it's actual insanity (based off of one of my irls). he loves r&b , the REALEST ms lauryn hill fan, but has a wide range of music taste as well. he's the glue in this group chat and it would be dead if it wasn't him and bokuto spamming it all the time. he loves croissants and old libraries even if he doesn't read, he likes the ambience while he's catching up on his university lectures. he skips all of them (self indulgent). he changes his bio on twitter every 25 minutes and it's just the captions of tiktoks he giggled from - it's abhorred. i think a lot of people look at him from afar because he's quite attractive but his aura is so intimidating that no one goes up to him..

⋆｡°✩ kotaro bokuto

bokuto is a very rowdy and energetic person, which is why he's perfect to be akaashi's best friend! he struggles a bit with being too pushy. especially with akaashi who he sometimes forces to do things he doesn't want to do. he's sort of slow and unaware, but he means the best for everybody. he has no opps. he unironically plays roblox (uses his younger cousins as an excuse but actually loves it) and his favourite games are dress to impress and gym simulator. unlike akaashi, bokuto stayed friends with yn after high school ended but just doesn't talk to her as often - him and yn were never as close as akaashi and yn. bokuto really likes cheese, especially gouda, but also flightless birds.

⋆｡°✩ kenma kozume

kenma is winning every single idgaf war on the entire planet, i'm not even kidding. (but on a more serious note, he does look out for his friends in his own special way). he loves any sort of energy drink, and his favourite food is tiramisu because it wakes him right up and he likes mascarpone. he strictly wears uniqlo airism shirts and rotates through 4 different pairs of pants (jeans, gray sweatpants, black sweatpants and jorts). he likes to stay home and watch films with akaashi, play different games with bokuto and have long conversations with tsukishima. he's closest to kuroo because they live together. bokuto and akaashi live together too and kei lives alone but everyone meets up there anyways. he doesn't use twitter too often.

please consider liking , reblogging or following if you enjoyed send an ask or reply to the masterlist if you'd like to be on the taglist :p

taglist : @akaashislovee

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[emthimofnight]

What are Stellar's relationships like with the other main Sonic Co.?

I'll break down a handful of relevant relationships for you!!

Sonic - Stellar's dad

Stellar loves her dad, and is most like him in personality. This makes it so they are usually on the same page when it comes to what they do and don't like, but it also means that there is no one on earth who can annoy Stellar like Sonic can. 😂 As much as she loves joking around with him, sometimes his teasing and sarcasm can get on her nerves. Sonic has truly adapted to his role as an embarrassing dad, so dad jokes are non-stop in the hedgehog household. Even so, Stellar loves Sonic a lot and nothing makes her happier than running all over Green Hill with him! She wishes he'd take her on more of his big adventures.

Shadow - Stellar's papa

Stellar and Shadow are very close, but in a way that is different than how she is close with Sonic. Shadow is a quiet, steady, and responsible force in her life, one that she appreciates greatly. She knows she can rely on him for almost anything, and she finds a great amount of comfort in his presence. Shadow would do almost anything for her, and she knows it. That being said, Shadow can come across as overprotective, which becomes a point of contention between the two of them.

Tails - Uncle figure

Since Tails and Sonic were living together when Stellar arrived, he's always been an active part of her life. Once he got over the drama surrounding her existence, he was SUPER stoked to be an uncle! He was one of her regular babysitters growing up, and she really likes trying to bring out his more playful side. Even so, she finds it a bit hard to connect to him and his interests at times, as she's not very techy. She might not understand all of his brainiac lingo, but she does love all the fun gadgets he comes up with! He actually helped create her skates as a way to help vent her excess chaos energy!

Knuckles - Uncle figure

Knuckles is probably the uncle she relates to the most, as she shares his love of adventure and the outdoors! She often spends time listening to him tell stories of all the adventures he and Sonic have gone on, her eyes filled with stars. She admires him greatly, and thinks he's super cool! The only thing she doesn't get is how he can spend so much of his time sitting around and guarding the Master Emerald. She has far too much energy to be able to sit still for that long!

Amy - Aunt figure

Amy was another of her regular babysitters growing up, which is also how she and Camellia became so close. Amy would come over to visit with Camellia in tow, and the two would spend a majority of the time playing together. She sees Amy as a warm, loving person, and she feels like she could tell her almost anything. She does know not to piss her off, though! Amy is a force to be reckoned with when she's upset! Of course, she's delighted whenever she comes over, and it always helps that she brings yummy baked goods with her!

Rouge - Aunt figure

The aunt she's closest with, Rouge helped Stellar shape a lot of her personal style. She's the rich auntie type, always coming over with gifts and taking Stellar out to have girl time. She is responsible for a lot of the more feminine aspects of Stellar, seeing as she's the one who introduced the world of cosmetics to her. If it wasn't for her, Stellar would have been dressed in oversized t-shirts and running shoes all her life!

Blaze - Aunt figure

Being softer and more reserved, Stellar finds it harder to connect with Blaze. It's not that she doesn't appreciate her, she's just can find her a bit hard to read at times. She definitely exudes that queenly energy, and she can find that a bit intimidating at times. Even so, she's always happy to get opportunities to know her better, and she recognizes she's an empathetic and responsible person.

I should also mention that the only one out of this group that she genuinely sees like blood family is Tails. Everyone else are kind of like god parents or something, haha! She doesn't see any of the other fankids as cousins, basically. She sees them as peers/friends.

[ryuichirou]

I saw your recent Riddle x Floyd pic on kofi and I was wondering, what kind of drunks do you think the twst boys are? Like flirty drunk, sleepy drunk, crazy drunk, etc. Also, what do you think their alcohol tolerance is? Like, who’s a lightweight and who can down shots like there’s no tomorrow?

Anon! I’m finally replying to your very fun ask. But actually, even though that comic was posted on kofi ages ago now, it actually makes sense for me to post it today of all days… 👀

Still, sorry for the wait! This is honestly a very good question, and a very interesting one to think about.

Also also, I keep thinking about a series of drawings+hcs that this jp artist drew, and I loved their hcs a lot! But I haven’t looked at it ever since they were posted, so I hope they didn’t influence my own hcs too much lol I don’t think they did, but…

Riddle – surprising no one, he gets drunk instantly even if you just put a drop of whiskey in his tea. He is the lightweight with zero experience with alcohol, and he swore to his mother that he would never drink it, even after he turns 18. But life had other plans for him… I feel like drunk Riddle gets giggly and unexpectedly playful, even slutty, he really is the ultimate “homeschooled virgin goes ham at his first college party and sucks someone’s dick”. He can’t stay awake for a long time though, so he’ll fall asleep somewhere in the corner after half an hour or so. He also won’t remember anything about the next day.

Ace – he gets drunk too easily for his own liking, he really wants to get better at it. He tried drinking a couple of times even before enrolling to NRC: one time he stole his mom’s vanilla liqueur and threw up, the other time he sipped on his brother’s beer while he was in the bathroom, and then got smacked for that. Out of the first years, he is the one that gets the most excited about stealing booze, and whenever he is drunk, he is obnoxious. He yells, fights, pranks, does stupid shit and lives his best life…

Deuce – he also gets drunk easily, but not as easily as Ace. But this is because he already had his “gets drunk and acts obnoxiously” phase: he and his delinquent guys used to drink a lot. Deuce liked drinking more than he liked smoking… He doesn’t want to drink now because he is afraid that his “bad self” will come out, but unless Ace is around to keep him heated, Deuce is likely to just get sleepy and mumble nonsense quietly to himself.

Trey – he is good with alcohol. Well, he feels super drunk whenever he drinks, but you would never guess it: he doesn’t look and act drunk at all. Well… He starts looking scary and intimidating after a certain point. Regardless, he prefers to pull a “well, one of us has to stay sober and make sure everyone is okay, right?” and just sit there watching everyone get drunk.

Cater – a big enjoyer of cocktails (as long as they aren’t extremely sweet). He also likes straight-up whiskey, but never drinks it in front of others. He doesn’t drink often, but he started drinking when he was pretty young. He is very good with alcohol, but sometimes he really wants to get tipsy, relax and have fun, so he is probably the one to drink more than some of the other boys.

Leona – loves alcohol but very capricious about it: it has to be expensive and rich in taste. He doesn’t like mixing stuff, but when it’s mixed with milk he actually doesn’t mind it. He prefers to drink alone, or in a company of one other person. And he would get a bit flirty and provocative, but actually, for the majority of times he’d just suddenly start snoring and purring at the same time.

Ruggie – he doesn’t like drinking, but he loves when others drink because this is an opportunity for him to showcase his cocktail-making skills. He knows a lot of cool cocktails and is very good at identifying expensive booth… not based on taste though, it all tastes the same to him. When it comes to drinking, he would just drink homemade beer that his grandma makes. He doesn’t get too drunk, but he laughs at everything whenever he does. And also starts stealing shit just for the sake of it.

Jack – oh pupper. He doesn’t like drinking at all: he gets hot, sweaty and confused immediately. He starts panting, sometimes even with his tongue out. Then he gets restless and starts pacing around the room, either whining or growling quietly to himself, looking as if he would pounce if someone was to poke him even a little bit at this state. But if he pounces, he’ll just lick that person’s face and neck all over… and maybe get inappropriate?? But he bounces back pretty quickly, after like 2 hours he’ll be completely sober. Keep making him drink!

Azul – he used to dislike the taste of alcohol (and was very self-conscious about it), but now he loves it. As long as it’s good, of course. Unlike Ruggie, Azul can take one sip and tell you everything there is to know about this specific vintage. He is an elitist and hates on a lot of alcohol brands though, even some high-end ones if he doesn’t like the taste. He is absolutely going to have a proper bar once he graduates. If he good with alcohol though? Not really… Azul has stages when he drinks: at first he just gets more talkative, then he gets giggly, then he gets openly aggressive, then he gets very sad. He tries not to drink up to that point…

Jade – another one who prefers to watch people drink rather than to drink himself. He doesn’t get too easily drunk himself, but he gets hiccups sometimes, and it’s embarrassing. He is also extremely good at making cocktails and experiments a lot, making both Azul and Floyd drink his concoctions, and it’s always a gamble whether he’ll make something extraordinary or will make you throw up.

Floyd – he flip-flops. Sometimes he could be that one sour sober face that doesn’t want to drink with everybody, sometimes he randomly drinks a couple of bottles because he wanted to see if it would make him pee harder. He hates the taste of alcohol (any alcohol!), he hates getting headaches and throwing up and feeling like shit in general, he hates not remembering stuff, but he loooves spinning when he is drunk. And causing destruction. He is all over the place when he’s drunk, even more-so than he usually is.

Kalim – he has some experience with alcohol! It’s not like he used to drink all the time when he was a kid, but whenever they had any kind of celebration, his dad would give him one sip of the wine (or any other thing rich friends brought to them that day). So Kalim actually likes wine quite a lot, and was genuinely surprised when he realised that he can’t bring bottles of good wine to NRC to celebrate with Jamil and the other students. All of that doesn’t mean he’s good with alcohol, mind you, because he gets drunk very easily. But it’s like his “kalimness” just enhances, and he gets even more clingy and wants to dance a lot. And also touch and kiss a lot… He is also super lucky and never gets hangovers.

Jamil – now this is someone who always gets hangovers and it always hits him like a truck. In Jamil’s perfect world, if he would have nothing to worry about, if he could just relax for one evening without worrying about doing 1000 things the next day, and if he was in good company (preferably on his own), he would love to have a good drink. But the majority of times he gets drunk it’s because Kalim makes him drink. Or Kalim drinks 5 different kinds of wine, and Jamil has to taste every single one before giving it to him (and also try it from Kalim’s glass every single time because you never know when someone might put something in the bottle). So he just gets gradually more and more drunk… Jamil is surprisingly well-composed even when he is drunk, but he gets hot. Literally and figuratively, he is suddenly more seductive and even horny… but it never ends with anything good.

Vil – he enjoys the taste of good alcohol, sometimes would even have wine mom moments and just pour a glass for himself for no reason, just to unwind. But this is a very rare treat: he is aware that alcohol is bad for your body, so he prefers to drink a smoothie instead. He is a social drinker though, so he would drink sparkling wine on parties. I feel like Vil doesn’t drink too much and is good with alcohol in general, but he does get flirty… and more reckless as well. Wink.

Rook – doesn’t get drunk at all, no matter how much he drinks. It is almost unfair because he doesn’t have to avoid drinking like Trey and Jade do to watch the others get drunk: oh he drinks with them alright, he thinks it’s polite to drink just as much as the other person does. But he doesn’t get drunk miraculously… but if someone would to ask him, he would say that he is very drunk!

Epel – loves alcohol. He is right there with Ace when it comes to the first years that are always excited to drink. He loves to brag about drinking with the men of his village all the time… which is kind of true, but also kind of false: it’s not like he chugs moonshine with them. He is allowed to have apple cider though, so he is actually probably better with alcohol than both Ace and Deuce… he is still bad at it though lol, he gets either clingy or aggressive or aggressively clingy, depending on how much he drinks. His little body punishes him with the biggest hangovers.

Idia – hates it, bad with it, feels like it’s torture. He is one of the most capricious ones because he hates the taste, the smell, the burning feeling, everything, but then again, it’s not like he tried all the options available: he might have actually enjoyed something sweeter or even just whiskey+coke combo (if there isn’t too much whiskey there). His first stage would be to become very talkative and start complaining about everything, having even less filter than usual, but then he would start getting red, breathing heavily, moan quietly and hug his own knees, as if he is in the biggest agony in the world. His hands and legs also start shaking crazily when he is drunk.

Ortho – human!Ortho of course: he is better with alcohol than Idia; in fact, he would be the one to insist that Idia should try different kinds of alcohol just to see if he likes the other ones better. Ortho used to hate booze as well, but as he got a bit older, he got more interested in it, so these days he doesn’t mind a bottle of beer. But he is a social drinker, he never drinks alone. it’s more about hanging out with friends for him. He also doesn’t get super drunk, he is like the opposite of Idia. Maybe he just never drinks too much…

Lilia – this man used to chug gasoline from the car pipe. This man used to shotgun vodka from a glass bottle. This man is a legend and he can outdrink almost everyone in this school. But that doesn’t mean he won’t get drunk because hoo boy will he get drunk. Sometimes he gets as obnoxious as Ace, sometimes he just wants to have fun like Kalim, sometimes he gets aggressive like Floyd… but there is also this secret 4th type of Lilia drunk that is too creepy, hungry and sexual to describe. Also! He used to never get hangovers, but he does now. Getting old sucks.

Silver – it would be funny if Silver was the type of drunk to get energized and more awake, but I feel like he just gets even more sleepy, but also clingy. In terms of stamina, I’d say he’s a 3 out of 5… He doesn’t get drunk immediately, but can’t drink more than two glasses. Also, he was 3 years old when he drank alcohol for the first time, thanks Lilia. Well, it was just a little sip..!

Sebek – he has a big future ahead of him and good potential, but for now he is pretty bad at drinking. He doesn’t like it because the taste is usually too bitter (he’s a baby…), plus, he feels dizzy afterwards. He doesn’t like not being in control of himself, so sometimes he freaks out when he is drunk, but sometimes he just sits there with his head in his hands and tries to concentrate and undrunk himself. When he is drunk he is either aggressive or aggressively horny…

Malleus – it feels like it’s impossible to get him drunk, but in actuality it is possible, it’s just that he has to drink a lot for that. Even if he is very drunk, it’s difficult to tell that he is for anyone other than people who are the closest to him (or someone very perceptive like Rook), but he gets extra playful, pouty and really wants to dance and show off. He is very dangerous when drunk because he can burn down the entire house just for shits and giggles… and if he gets angry while drunk, it’s extra dangerous.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

A Note About the Society of the Blind Eye's Uniforms

I am entirely certain that I am the only person who has ever noticed this and therefore the only person that cares and is bothered by this. But I do wish that when people drew Fiddleford within Society of the Blind Eye garb that they changed his outfit up a little from the standard uniform. Because as the leader and founder of the organization, it would be useful for his outfit to be slightly different in order to distinguish his rank and role in the Society, and it's also a fun excuse to dress Fiddleford up in something a little more fancy!

For a moment I want all of us to take a moment to appreciate the Society of the Blind Eye's standard uniform.

It's a design that is simple, effective, and yet quite visually distinct and interesting. Those deep reds that make it stand out in much the same way that the Journals do.

A simple, clean design that makes it easy to animate and duplicate, but can also be mildly altered to suit the variety of Gravity Falls' different body types while maintaining that cohesive appearance!

But it also has just enough bespoke and little details to keep it from being generic!

The hoods being low enough to cover the wearer's eyes and frame the rest of their faces in shadow, speaking to the anonymous nature of the organization, while also giving them an intimidating appearance.

A little bit of pragmatic design where they have drawstrings to protect the members from the energy blasts of the Memory Gun while they are observing it being used. (Though unless the outfits are like... Lined with some kind of metal, the drawstrings would likely do little more than protect their eyes from the bright lights.) But when the hoods are drawn down like this, it also emphasizes the Society's symbol and in a way make the members of the Society almost look inhuman!

And apparently they're pretty comfortable to boot! They sure look cozy!

But I think that I might be the only one who's noticed... Hey! Ivan's outfit is actually slightly different from the rest!

Unlike everyone else whose hoods flop down in the back to a soft point, his stands up to a sharper point! And his outfit and hood also lack the split down the middle that everyone else's outfits feature!

It's a small difference, but if you know this and pay attention, you can visually pick Ivan out in any scene that he's in!

And within the organization itself, these are likely deliberate differences to distinguish Ivan's role within the Society's higherarchy. Tragically, we never get to see Fiddleford in his Society of the Blind Eye robes, though there is little doubt that he had such an outfit, if he didn't outright design the Society's uniforms himself! And given how Ivan has custom robes, it's very likely that Fiddleford did too. Likely robes that were even more distinguished and fancy than Ivan's!

So please! When drawing Fiddleford as the leader of the Society of the Blind Eye, I would LOVE it if you gave him some little extra defining features to make him stand out from the rest of the Society as a very fancy, distinguished, and important boy! And if I may make a suggestion....... HOW ABOUT A CAPE!???

Now it's possible that this statue might not have been originally depicting a Society of the Blind Eye member and the symbol could have been added later, the details of which will likely be discussed in my next Society of the Blind Eye post but like... Fiddleford could look hella cool in a cape. He deserves it! A cape would be neat! But it's certainly not necessary. I just want to see more varied, silly, and interesting designs with Fiddleford's Society of the Blind Eye outfit is all! :D

[satansapostle6]

The Crush | Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson is a cool, simple guy who is also the famous son of Poseidon who helped save the world. But, talking to the pretty girl in his English class still seems impossible.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter One: Pussy Jackson

Percy sat behind Chloé in English. She was tall and intimidating, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to work up the courage to talk to her. Sure, he wasn’t in high school anymore, but he still felt nervous around her like he was sixteen years old again. Chloé Jardine was, after all, the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He knew Chloé was a Roman demigod, a daughter of Nox, the Roman equivalent of Nyx, the goddess of darkness and the night. She was a fairly typical child of Nox, a sort of minimalistic goth.

She had long, pitch black hair, with tiny micro bangs partially covering her forehead. She was also noticeably pale, as if she only ever went out at nighttime. Most people thought she looked scary, but Percy thought she looked magical.

Chloé had a decent amount of tattoos, including a pretty sizable spider web on her neck. She had a lot of piercings, including an eyebrow piercing and a vertical labret on her lip. She didn’t really wear makeup, but she was very obviously a goth. She was smart, and she didn’t talk a lot at all, which drove Percy insane. He made it his mission in life to know as much about her as possible.

Every time he saw her wearing a band T-shirt of some kind to school, he’d make a note of the band name and look it up later if he wasn’t familiar, and listen to all of the songs he could find.

So far, he’d listened to Type O Negative, Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Kittie, and Rob Zombie, only affirming his opinion that she was the coolest person on earth. His best friend, Grover, thought the behavior was just a little bit obsessive, but didn’t really think it was that bad.

That day in his college English course, he was sitting in his seat, listening to Soundgarden during the lecture on his laptop with the tab open, secretly hoping Chloé would have some some reason to walk back and look at his computer screen. Soundgarden wasn’t goth, of course, but Percy had seen her wear one of their shirts.

“Hey! Pussy Jackson!”

Percy frowned to see Clarisse La Rue sitting in a seat a couple rows behind him.

“Move your fat fucking head, I can’t see!”

“‘I’m doing fine, thank you, Clarisse’,” he mocked her under his breath. “‘How was your weekend’?”

Percy was startled to look up to see Chloé turned around in front of him.

“Will you two shut the fuck up?!” she whispered, staring at them in disbelief.

Percy’s face must have been beet red as he tried his hardest not to explode. He was dying of embarrassment as he tried to come up with some sort of answer.

“Uh, yeah! Sorry!” he apologized in a whisper.

Chloé just turned back around, shaking her head as she continued taking messy notes on the assignment due dates. Percy leaned forward slightly, looking curiously at her notebook. He found her handwriting interesting; it was kind of small with a lot sharp edges, written in haste without being too messy, almost like a doctor’s handwriting.

Percy knew he must’ve been lost in his horny ADHD world, because before he knew it, the instructor had just finished announcing the next project, a group project worth 20% of his grade.

“Alright, the groups are posted up here, so you can all come and take a look. You’ll have the rest of this class to figure out a presentation topic and get started,” the professor, a woman in her forties, announced as she retreated to her desk.

Alarmed by the words ‘groups’ and ‘presentation’, Percy anxiously made his way down to the whiteboard with everyone else, terrified to receive his group assignment. He prayed silently that he’d get at least one smart kid in his group, and zero Clarisse’s. As he slowly scanned the list of names up and down, his face went pale as he found his other two group mates. Clarisse La Rue and Chloé Jardine.

Percy wanted to kill himself immediately. Not only did he have to work with Clarisse, but he also had to figure out how to work with Chloé, who had just told him to shut the fuck up not two seconds ago, the first words she had ever spoken to him. He glanced back at Clarisse, who was standing beside Chloé. Neither of them looked very happy about the group assignment.

Percy glanced over at the peofessor’s desk, contemplating whether he should try and get a different group. He decided against it, figuring he’d had enough embarrassment for one day. Signing as he realized he’d have to face Chloé eventually, he walked over to where the girls were standing, ready to face the music. He’d fought monsters and faced imminent doom before, and somehow this felt exactly the same.

“I’m not doing all of the work,” Chloé crossed her arms.

“What makes you think you’d be doing all the work?!” Clarisse asked defensively.

“Because I’m in a group with you!”

“Hey…” Percy waved awkwardly, trying to break the ice, which seemed to also somehow be scalding hot.

“Oh, yeah. You’re in this group too,” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Percy retaliated childishly.

“Okay. We need to come up with a topic,” Chloé reminded them. “Which one should our presentation be about?”

“What are the options?” Percy asked, watching as she just let out a long sigh.

The next hour of class went by as slowly as possible. By the end of it, Clarisse had stormed out of the classroom, and Percy and Chloé were left sitting together exhaustedly. Chloé sighed as she got up, heading out of the building as Percy followed her.

“Sorry about Clarisse,” he offered sympathetically. “She drives everyone who has to deal with her insane.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” Chloé nodded.

*****

Percy felt odd, and completely out of place the entire time he sat in class discussing the project with Chloé. Every time she spoke to him, he felt more stupid. He knew nothing about what he wanted to do for the project, and he was even less prepared to answer these questions when asked by Chloé Jardine. And of course, Clarisse also being a part of the group didn’t help.

But Percy figured it was almost worth it, getting to work on the project with Chloé, with her cool hair, tattoos and piercings, and blue eyes, the same icy blue eyes that mesmerized him when he spoke to her. Percy had to clear his throat and check his breath twice before smiling at her as she turned, just having ordered a coffee from the kiosk nearby.

“Hey,” Percy wheezed, realizing how eager he sounded stalk to her, cursing himself silently.

“Hi,” Chloé said with slight surprise, sipping the warm coffee.

She looked at him expectantly, wondering what it was he could’ve possibly had to say to her. Chloé had already done a brief mental scan of Percy; she knew that he was the Greek son of Poseidon, by his shaggy black hair and sea green eyes.

She knew from the perpetual dopey expression on his face that he was attracted to her in some way. She’d seen the way he looked at her and assumed that it was mostly more sexual than emotional, based on the way his eyes lingered on her skin and the way he was constantly averting his eyes from her chest.

“See you,” Chloé smiled, politely excusing herself as she walked away.

“Fuck,” Percy muttered under his breath as he watched her walk away.

He sighed in defeat as he watched Chloé walk away from him, thinking of a hundred things in that moment he wished he’d said to her.

“It’ll never happen, you know.”

Percy whipped around quickly, alarmed as he turned around in the direction of the voice he’d heard. Naturally, the disapproving voice had belonged to Annabeth, his sharp-witted child of Athena ex-girlfriend.

“What?” Percy questioned defensively.

“You and Chloé,” she responded promptly.

Percy crossed his arms. “What makes you think—”

“That you’re infatuated with her?” she asked him. “I know you, Jackson.”

“I’m not infatuated with Chloé,” Percy rolled his eyes at her.

“Well. Infatuated or not, her ex-boyfriend is Sean Morley. The son of Apollo?” Annabeth Chase smirked. “With the blond hair, and the shoulders?”

“Why are you so invested?” he ignored her, questioning her skeptically.

Annabeth smiled, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “Because. It’s fun watching you refuse to learn,” she said as her demeanor softened.

Annabeth walked off and disappeared, leaving Percy to do a lot of thinking.

-

Chapter Two

[abbyslev]

𝑩𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺- 𝑱𝑱𝑲

A/N: HEY BABIES i’ve been working on this lmao i’m currently in my jjk obsession era i fear 😋 I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS THIS HAHA I HAD SM FUN WRITING IT!! ESP GOJOS LMAOO lmk if you guys want PARENT GOJO HCS BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY CUTE IDEAS LMAOO

WARNINGS: not proofread i fear 💔

yuuji bsfs hcs here!

YUUTA

prepare yourself 

he’s very shy at first, never had friends really so when he saw how cool you were he was very shy to talk to you

ofc you initiated conversation !! 

he noticed how maki was very close to you, yet you were less tense and way nicer 

you showed him around and he noticed everyone knew you which kind of intimidated him 

he started opening up about his interest and you two traded numbers after a while 

after a month or so you two started hanging outside of class and training 

late night dinners!! 

you randomly buy each other stuff from the convenience store !! 

gojo started sending him on missions with you and you had so much patience with him

you were very sweet and walked him through everything 

of course in the middle of a battle he’d stay and watch over you, yet watching intently to make sure nothing went wrong 

late night calls 

always always always helping him study!! 

you could tell maki was holding back a crush and yuuta DEFINITELY had a crush on her 

you were trying to get them to date 

he holds your bags when you guys shop!! 

training together, he asks you don’t hold back on him 

sharing food. you put on his plate whatever you don’t like and he will gladly eat it up!! 

you like to mess with his hair a lot, especially since it’s already pretty ruffled 

once he opened up to you completely, you know when he’s upset 

you know how to comfort him best 

showing up at his door with takeout late at night (you had to beg gojo to get it for you) 

staying in his dorm while y’all eat and play street fighter 

you teach him more about your power and your energy, to which he looks more into !! 

takes interest in your interest, you do the same !!

matching outfits on non-school days on accident

panda laughs at you both btw 

you guys are inseparable basically, if one’s not there, neither will the other!! 

MEGUMI

a lot of people think megumi is this cold, hard kid with no emotion 

WRONG 

you grew up with him, basically being raised by gojo too

he took a liking more to you than gojo i fear 

as kids, you two would fall asleep against each other while his divine dogs protected you both 

gojo ofc had to have a photoshoot 

megumi genuinely respects you as a sorcerer, seeing the endless nights you’d spend in your room training 

he claims he uses full force on you when you two train, but he’s obviously lying 

meg can be a picky eater sometimes, so he puts it on your plate 

he appreciates when you slide your soup to him without a word though 

he likes his space, and he greatly appreciates that you know that!! 

sometimes he wants to sit with you in silence, and sometimes he wants to be alone, and somehow you can read his mood perfectly 

he will tease you sometimes when you guys are alone

if you’re sitting on his bedroom floor, he will ruffle your hair or even crack some jokes 

he actually does play some video games, whichever ones you get him as presents 

he’s not on his phone much, but he does text you back fairly quickly 

doesn’t like you going on missions alone, and if you do, he may send a divine dog with you sometimes 

genuinely doesn’t understand how you can stand gojo sometimes 

which by the way, he uses to make you two match as kids 

gojo literally tried to put meg in a dress and got kicked in the face 

how do you get kicked by a seven year old? don’t ask 

very very supportive, but also very honest 

you call him before you go on dates and ask his opinions on your outfits 

“isn’t that a bit much skin? what if she’s like…i don’t know…not into that? Is that how it works?” poor him he doesn’t know 

if he finds a cute girl and he tells you about it, YOU WILL TALK TO HER ABOUT HIM 

he gets all shyyyyy 

meg still gets shy telling you things 

pretty much trusts you though

“lemme see em hehehe” as he gets his divine dogs out for you so you can play fetch w them :((

his doggies also comfort you a lot so since he’s not very emotionally available he’ll let you vent while petting the dogs

only lets you call him megs. one time panda tried it and got the death stare from megumi 

“why can only they call you megs” “cause i’m his favorite :D”

doesn’t let anyone be mean to you, HE WON'T BE ACCEPTING THAT BEHAVIOR 

pls take care of bb megs HES THE BEST OK 

TOGE

it was kind of a rough start

you didn’t understand his cursed speech and you definitely got stressed with “bonito flakes” and “kelp” 

you would ask him things but you couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t reply 

shorty after you met panda and maki and they explained 

which right after, that night you bought a notebook so you could communicate 

toge thought this was the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for him 

you guys ended up trading numbers and stayed up LATE sending each other videos and gushing about video games 

toge actually is pretty interesting, he hates not being able to talk about stuff with you

you finally got around to understanding his language !! 

that made everything much easier 

one time you were cold and he wrapped his scarf around you </33

don’t let his lack of speaking abilities fool you, this man WILL BE YOUR WINGMAN

you see a cute girl across the street, he’s chasing them down 

you two are an unbeatable duo, which is why you complete harder missions together 

training is ok, he can’t really use his voice so it’s just you two wrestling 

on missions you keep throat medicine on you for him

you help him study a lot, he’s actually very smart 

study sessions usually end up with you two on his bed, junk food everywhere and controllers in your hands,  hushed arguments between the two

you usually buy his lunch and bring it to him, but if y’all are out together, he pays for everything like the gentleman he is 

your biggest supporter!! if you fail at a move or can’t perfect something, he text you words of encouragement 

pls protect toge he deserves the world 

GOJO

dear god hold on 

how you survived high school gojo is beyond anyone’s comprehension 

you basically rasied meg too 

he’s tall… HE WILL USE THAT TO HIS ADVANTAGE 

hiding things from you all the time

if you are texting your situationship or something gojo WILL take your phone and read everything outloud 

if you fall on your ass or something embarrassing happens, instead of helping you he will record to humiliate you in front of his kids 

which btw they are your kids too !!

esp megs, you raised him and (though he’ll never admit it) he sees you as a mom

you submit to nobara’s shopping addiction i fear 

you’ll be in the middle of a lesson and HERE COMES GOJO BARGING IN 

the students stare at him in fear as he lift up one side of his blindfold to show you a funny video he found 

also don’t worry about having to pay for anything, he’s got it covered 

you try and deny him but he’s like “we all know you need it” annoying ass 

you also swear to never take him to family gatherings again 

but you do every single time 

the one time you took him your cousins fawned over him and your aunties asked if that was your husband and you had to explain he was your best friend 

gojo waved at your cousins and even fucking posed ???? 

you yelled at him on the way home but all he did was smile 

you used to tuck in megumi in bed and gojo would be like “don’t let the curses bite” and you would stare him down

gojo sends you on wild missions, yet still makes sure they’re safe enough for you 

he takes a liking to yuuji, meg, and nobara so he sends you to watch over them 

he knows your parental instincts are STRONG so he knows you will protect the kids with your life

one time megumi was being very open and honest with you about a problem and gojo interrupted you guys 

megumi never talked about his emotions again i fear 

if you ever get seriously injured he will joke around and take you to Shoko, but he’s really worried and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you

keeps you out of his battles, and will even fight yours

see a girl you like? he’s on his way to let her know and maybe even get her number for you! 

will literally bring you food at two in the morning 

it's just who he is 

knows he seriously fucked up when you pull his hair, lift his blindfold up and see your face like “>:(”

you usually call him saturo so when you say “gojo SATURO!” he knows he fucked up

he loves his kids…yet he leaves them with you and now you have to deal with their bickering 

on your off days he loves to take you to shopping and out to eat! it’s his favorite

“max out my card” as an apology but all you want is a real explanation to why he blew up your room and why his kids were laughing 

you flick his forehead a lot 

you and utahime gang up on him a lot i fear 

though she’s very serious and you just like to tag along 

he buys you cool little trinkets 

“what’s this?” “a special something” and its literally just a snow globe 

not very emotionally available either so he just jokes around and tries his best to help you 

you understand he can get upset and refuse to show it, so you just sit beside him and draw shapes on his knees until he says something 

his phone is full of you throwing fits and angry photos 

occasionally cute ones of you guys together 

he sends you thousands of photos of either him, scenery, his kids or strangers 

you do the same obviously 

one time you and shoko hung out and sent gojo a pic and he screenshotted shokos smeared lipstick and sent it with a “??”

you post him on your insta and all ur friends slide up asking for his @ 

yes his ego gets bigger 

your favorite thing to do is grab the back of his head and yank off his blindfold and curse at him 

use to shove megumi in your arms and scream into his hands 

“HE WONT EAT THE FUCKING VEGGIES PLEASE JUST HELP”

megumi gladly ate the veggies you fed him 

rivalry fr

“EW PUT SHOES ON” as he wiggles his bare feet in your face

will teleport to your room randomly 

you also steal his glasses randomly 

he KNOWSSSS when theres a woman in room

will start spam texting you for details 

he is part of the sassy man apocalypse i fear 

you and shoko shoo him away for some “girl time” and he goes “i AM one of the girls” with a little sassy eye roll

i could write about this man forever LMAOO

fav

NANAMI

its not a spoken title but trust everyone knows your nanamis best friend 

i mean why else would he allow you in his office just so you can gossip ?? 

gojo complains about being mistreated 

whenever he buys books he buys two, one for you one for him 

buys you lunch! 

since he does love food, friday and saturday night dinners are a must 

you guys like to try different foods from different countries! 

every once in a while he will drink wine with you 

you guys are pretty much a deadly duo 

will give you flowers! it’s sweet

he’s not big on social media but he will go on there to like your newest post 

gojo complains again i fear 

you planned a super big vacation for you both for his birthday and even got some days off for him

that was the only vacation he’s ever been on, and he couldn’t thank you enough

though you wanted to pay, he ended up paying for everything you wanted at the trip

you spent so much money on reservations and plane tickets, he was worried 

he refuses to let you pay for anything! 

he’s not a pro at dates, but he will help you plan out a date 

also buys you a new outfit and helps you get ready 

“Did you get her flowers? should we get her anything else, or is this fine?” 

biggest supporter, but also does not enable bad actions like fear 

“well you’re not my dad” “fine then, go and get butthurt” 

he’s very sarcastic and straightforward with you, you love it 

he’s very organized about his outfits, so you’ll mess with him by saying his shirt is untucked or something 

when he carries you on his back because you’re super drunk you’ll be like “you loveeeee mee” 

“you keep telling yourself that.” but he indeed loves you so much 

opens doors for you, car doors, keeps hygiene products for you in his car, never lets you pay, always has a jacket ready for you, carries your bags, gets you dinner, this man is THE gentleman 

“NNAAAAAAANAMIIIII” “oh god, what now?”

you bust into his office anytime 

you guys like reading the morning paper and sharing your thoughts on it 

you got eachother thin little matching bracelets 

he does wear his :(( all the time :(( he never takes it off :(( 

CUTE CUTE CUTE YOU GUYS ARE BESTIES 

tags: @saenora

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot Pt 2

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 4,760

It’s Snoggletog and you’re very, very tired. You’re definitely weird about it. So is Hiccup, but, as you’ve figured, he’s always a little weird.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse

<Previous - Next>

There were a lot of things they didn’t teach you on-screen- a lot of things you had to learn the hard way on Berk.

As it went, the warriors who were deemed the most respectable on the island lived up by the Chief’s -the ones who belonged to the families of the highest repute, who did the best in battle, who were good at keeping vows, who did the best posturing and bartering and who kept to themselves- keep ‘em close and all that.

 That’s what you heard, anyway- it was awfully convenient. All the Dragon Riders lived up by the forge. You weren’t sure why that surprised you, but eventually it kind of made sense. The Riders were the main characters, after all- the cool kids and whatnot. It annoyed you a little bit, though.

Choking down a yawn, you glanced off to the side at a carved extrusion, a norse knot embedded into its face. It  ended just as it ran into what you could only call a large porch rail with an odd-looking ball at the helm of it, a rotund mouth carved into it and two obtuse eyes mounted along one side. 

There was a chip in the wood, a long gash where part of the grain had fallen off, exposing older also-wood. You wondered how long it would take for something to crawl in it- if the burning and treating had sealed it down to the middle or if it would rot, if they would get it fixed before the next big storm, if it even mattered. 

You resisted the urge to shake out your shoulders.

You didn’t spend too much time up there, but, well, today you’d been caught. You wished you hadn’t been, but you had. By one Mrs. Thorston, in fact. 

You hadn’t all asked why she’d needed you specifically to do it, much too tired to care for anything but the call of your bed, all hay and dead grass and sometimes bug, but the busybody had carried on anyways, more than willing to go on- on and on in a way your hazy mind could hardly keep track of. It was almost unbearable. 

Though you did give in and you sighed.

First, to tend to, there was the Jorgenson clan, The Ingermans, and the Hoffersons- Of course, most important of all was the Chief, saddled with his poor runt of a sun, who was too much of a waste to keep from shirking his most important responsibilities -the ones involving caring for his father, of course- and chasing after dragons, another job of his which he’d been lacking at,and boy, what an oxymoron that was. 

She was so sure of how the burden of his son must have weighed heavily down on his father’s already bulky soul, talk of which bringing an odd blotchy puce blush to her thin face, talk of it had tired you out quite easily. If she didn’t take too kindly to you bringing up her husband- well.  

Snotlout was off and the twins were terrible, so they couldn’t do it- and by twins, she meant her daughter. Her son was missing, but he was too much of a gem for the work, anyways, and, of course, since you were there, that must have meant you were free and therefore had freely volunteered, because there were tasks that need doing doing, of course- so, of course, without the time to get a word in edgewise, she’d wrangled you into bringing water -pail by pail- to all of the clan homes, so that they could all have the luxury of hot water for laundering and bathing that night. 

That was a very long-winded way of saying that you’d just been made to bring up said water for said Chief. And his kid. Who was absent.

“What’re you here for?” The Chief asked gruffly, looking very intimidating and large. Very large- and huge.

You still hadn’t figured out how to say his name in Old Norse. Everyone else just said ‘Chief.’ It must have been a respect thing-  Still, you’d asked around and had been left with no real answers, just scandal, all upturned noses and confused, disturbed scowls, slightly turned shoulders and some distance. Which... Well, you couldn’t bring yourself to be hurt by it all, especially not in a place as crowded as Berk.

In the end, you’d decided you’d just wait for someone else to say it first.

“Water,” With shaky, sore arms, you held out a bucket. It was a flimsy one, especially heavy to you, who was a normal person with a normal amount of muscle mass, unlike everyone on this cold, godforsaken island.

You waited a very, very long moment, your arms still straining, soreness traveling up to your shoulders, pulling at your muscles and back, fingers reddening as gravity worked to cut off your circulation as if you’d just finished a trip to the grocer’s, the feeling worse than any plastic bag could ever be.

After the Chief failed to react, you slowly let your arms drop.

Your bucket swang back, the water inside arcing and sloshing, yanking against your very worn arm socket.

You pursing your lips and pointed backwards, your thumb half over your shoulder, aimed towards where you knew was the basin, the one you’d lugged up the hill, which you knew was theirs, pressing a thick indent into the grass by their house pathway because Mrs. Thorston had pointed it out with no small amount of fanfare.

You were supposed to bring it in but you’d left it there, mostly because you weren’t sure if the guy was home and you’d gotten quite the cold feet after poking around the front yard for a bit.

“That was, ah…” said the Chief, who seemed very gruff and confused and rightly so, “Very nice of you.”

You wondered if it was normal for him to be so hesitant and gruff, brows crinkled, eyes slightly bagged, old enough for all his frowns and furrows to be written in lines. If so, It seemed his interpersonal communication skills might have been somewhat lacking. If not, well, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel slighted at all- You didn’t want to be here, either.

Really, you just wanted this whole thing done and over with- you hoped the Chief did too. It hadn’t been much of a task before, but now, well, it took you a great deal to keep all your complaints bottled up inside.  Still, if you spoke, you’d have to say it all at once- you couldn’t bear to wait another moment, not so much because you were restless, moreso because you were sure you’d fall flat to the ground right then and there.

You paused for a moment longer, thinking. Mrs. Thorston- you were sure she’d given you something else, packed you full of words to carry alongside water, and yet you couldn’t quite remember which ones. Surely not all of them? Not the things she’d said about Hiccup, definitely- but then, maybe the ones about her son? Or- no, not her husband, but maybe the Chief?

Words, words- How much to say, how little to give? If giving some was bad, then giving ‘most’ must have been better. It was a dilemma that exhausted you even further. 

“Mrs. Thorston said to tell you she sent me-...” You grumbled. Much too stirred to do much thinking or stopping, you festered something breathy in your chest, rearing, your tongue leashed only just barely by the thought of conscience; a fraying, snapping thread.  “-And that she’s free at sundown, something about her husband being out, which I thought was weird-”

“Alright-” The Chief said, still looking quite grumpy. 

You continued speaking, letting, the words come to you, speaking with more just-rightness than- well, “-She wanted me to put in a good word and I’ve not been paid at all, she just talks too much to get anything else in edgewise and I just got cold feet trying to say no. Honestly, I don’t know, I’m tired and just kind of want to go now.” 

Then you turned around. As you spun, your bucket swung, and you could feel it, though you lived it more through your arm and the shift of your spine a lot more than you felt it in hand. It was almost vertigo- you dropped it quite roughly, easily, the bottom of it landing without clatter onto the surface of one large, wooden step.

You paused.

Like something slowly, slimily creeping up from your belly to your spine, you thought.

You were forgetting something- but no, you’d said all the appropriate words- and then some of your own.

For the moment, you decided to just wait, hands going from the red lines in your palms back to the face of the colossal, wide man way up high in front, seeing-not-seeing. It would come to you.

You waited a moment longer, staring and blinking. Why were you even up here at all? There was a reason, of course.

…

…Ah. You’d lost track of it before, the slightly pointy end of it barely even tapping at your leg past cloth, but-

“Wait!” You declared, turning back, feet shuffling.

The boss was halfway lumbered back into his home, his door nearly half-closed. 

He looked back down at you with a look, something exhaustive- a very strong ‘what now?’ 

“This is for your son,” You held out a crummily wrapped paper package with one arm, which was considerably less shaky now, considering the fact that this parcel was a great deal lighter, “It’s thanks for helping me out earlier, I think. Also, could you ask him to stop staring? And blowing things up. It’s getting kind of creepy. Goodbye.” 

You forced a large, strained smile. There were a handful of expressions that cycled across his face before he’d thought to respond, though now that you’d completed most of all your important tasks, you found you weren’t in the right mind to decipher them.

“...Goodbye.” The Chief said. You took that as permission to leave, arms swinging. Your legs were stiff as they walked, moving as fast as you could force them while keeping an even walking pace.

You left the bucket there.

You needed to get yourself something new- a coat, maybe, or some boots, so you didn’t have to deal with the feeling of cold ice-slush, seeping through your trousers and assaulting your now numb, ice-cold ankles.

Slogging through the snow was annoying, especially when you were living in an era pre-snowpants. Someone was going to have to salt the paths or something because this was getting ridiculous.

Where they were most frequented, in the worst parts, it was all nasty, brown and grainy, full of sheep dirt and human food-garbage- or, at least what you hoped was just human food-garbage. 

You were out of it now, the snow below your feet mostly powdered, untouched and downy and yet you could see the evidence of your previous forway staining your knees. 

You stamped your way down the path, arms full of loose, half-trailing cloth, all beiges, neutral greens and other dull colors, soles occasionally beating against slippery stone surfaces and gravel.

Nearing the end of one hut, where there was enough room to make a path, around the corner, you spied something- green eyes, dusty brown hair, a full, furry coat, a head of yellow-blonde straw hair, two magnificently polished, spiked shoulder pads and- it was Astrid, her back to you, angled just so that you could see the wide slab tray full of Yaknog she carried with both hands.

You grimaced as she turned, moving so you stayed out of her view as if you were attempting to dodge the odd gaze of a vicious dinosaur -a tyrannosaurus rex or a pterodactyl, maybe, green leather and- well, a lot of dragon things- and ran off before anyone but Hiccup could see you.

He had been ready to unload for a while, you were sure.

“I just…”  You watched as a head of dirt-brown hair buried itself into dusty, freckled hands, words spilling out of a mouth that was just out of view, worse than a wooden dam that had just been split down the side. “Toothless hasn’t-…I’m a little worried.”

It had come practically out of nowhere- you’d only just asked how he’d been, though that had been preceded by a good amount of lonesome moping on his part- he hadn’t seen you yet, then, but... With his bagged eyes and frazzled mop, you couldn’t ever be made upset by his… upset.

He looked like he was stressed… To the extreme.

You shrugged ungainly, shoulders bobbing, carving a groove of wet, snowy dirt into the ground with the scuffed toe of your boot as you turned and walked absentmindedly around the side of Hiccup.

You craned your head to a degree that felt nearly unnatural as you looked back, “I dunno, do they usually do this? I mean, I don’t remember seeing a lot of them last Snoggletog, but also I haven’t… been here that long.”

You were kind of confused- or, well, you had been last winter. You had seen a few of them buzzing around but you’d chopped that up to a fault of your own memory and not- well, whatever this was. 

After some minor deliberating, you figured the Red Death probably wouldn’t have been as much of a tyrant if it didn’t make them work through the holiday, if it -she- was considered a tyrant, that was- you weren’t an expert on the draconic mind. And boy, that must have been a bummer- birth and no child leave.

You sighed, arms tensing as a chill threatened to run down the small of your back. 

“Maybe, I mean-  I would be worried too.” You look down at your basket’s wicker borders, all knotted hay and cradled cloth, blinking with the deep desire to be left alone. You half-wondered why trouble always found you when you were doing laundry, “But also, they’re probably off having babies or something.”

“Having babies…?” You looked up just in time to catch the words as they left his mouth, brows furrowed oddly. 

You hoped you hadn’t been too on-the-nose, which was, well, a dying hope; “I mean, yeah. I guess. What else?”

It was as if attempting to breathe while coughing. You felt both an intense pressure in your sternum and an exhale of something that was probably both a yell and a wheeze, though you couldn’t hear it any more than you could feel the stringing of your vocal chords, the tail-end of some force leaving your chest like the exorcism of a demon or some full gust of air.

You felt a stiff, torso covering pain against your chest, which had been paired with quite the vertigo unlike any other you’d felt. It grew as you’d finally been able to draw in breath, feeling the sharp dipping of dull points against your stomach, the lack of land below your feet, feeling deeply the urge to writhe and kick and shout and yet your limbs, stuck immobile, stayed, your bones stuck frozen not unlike the thick feel of intensely vibrating metal, a thick mallet on a human-sized gong

Where had you been?

You remembered the wood of the ramps beneath your feet, the shifting of your weight as you leaned back slightly, mindlessly, cautiously walking, soles occasionally stuttering against slick wood, weary incase you once again fell on your aching ass. The sound of the sea rushing, crackling ice, frigid salt, a cold-burnt nose- You must have been by the stables, then.

Now, you weren’t sure what you were seeing, white mixing with it all. Your vision was both shocked to focused, in fine detail and blurred just the same.

There was something else, the feel of quickly shed dew, roughly pressed into fur, what should have been soft in texture tearing against your skin at the speeds you were going, made all the worse by the frigid chill. There was something beneath the fur, increasingly damp, something solid, flexing, slightly warm. 

You weren’t sure if that was the result of hypothermia setting in, not after so many hours out and about in the morning, rapid gales ripping the heat from your body, making your back feel as if you had just fallen into some violently-jagged-iced waters.

Perhaps in protest, something sharp and knocked into you with startled violence. You tried to resist the nearly impossible urge to struggle and wriggle and fight back- and failed dearly. Like a paper pressed to the flat of a palm, the only thing keeping you anchored to the face of the rock was the force of the wind- it was both an intense force and a finicky one. 

As the wind blasted past your ears, rendering your drums obscenely sore, you had to wonder- was this something that had happened in the show? The movies? Or not at all?

If it was, well, it had probably been too much to hope for that it would have been more comfortable… and that you wouldn’t have been involved. 

You groaned as deep as you could, back rolling over stone. 

It was uneven, something that you registered should be not so nice against the back of your skull, uneven as it was, but the tiredness buzzing against your bottommost lids, the growing fade in the corner of your consciousness- it all made it feel everso tempting.

There were no blankets here, and so you felt a measure too out in the open, bare despite your heavy layering. Still, especially with the light blocked from your eyes past the heavy feel of the meat of your arm, draped over your forehead, it was almost pleasant.

The last few hours had amounted to what was probably the worst ride of your life, spent tangled up in Meatlug’s paws, Hiccup’s leg wedged against your gut the whole time, the two of you shouting directions at each other as you tried to simultaneously hold on and figure out some bare semblance of comfort.

The landing hadn’t been too nice, either, Meatlug figuring to just drop the two of you against hard rock, leaving you unbelievably close to the edge of the cliffs. Also unbelievably close to tumbling to your death in the ocean. At least it was over now.

Unfortunately, there was no way for you to have known that, on Berk, at that exact moment in time, a very large, very meaty Gronkle would burst past, a very skinny, very scrawny Viking on its head, you stolen away with him, swept away to the dragon breeding grounds, shouting and screaming for your life.

“...You were right.” You heard Hiccup say quite openly as you shifted your shoulders, which did little more than adjust the fabric draped over your shoulders, though that was all you needed. 

Hiccup had already gotten to his feet, it seemed, and, by the sounds of it, had begun looking awed-ly around him at all the dragons and their nests, the crowing and churr-ing and caw-ing white noise to your tired ears.

 You turned over onto your side, hoping maybe to catch a few extra minutes of sleep.

The air felt thick and the corners of your eyes were blurry as if you’d just been drawn into-... something.

Hiccup gave you what you could only call a smile as he tried and failed to look… Normal? His brows were oddly cinched, lips pulled back in the most awkward way, teeth bared oddly. 

His elbow rested against the edge of a heavily singed, nearly completely burnt-to-black fence post. Some part of it must have been burning still, small tufts of smoke rising and mixing with the wind just behind his elbow, small bits of wood coming off in flakes and chunks along the side. His pupils were twitching back and forth as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to pay attention to you or figure out what was going on with his elbow, whose sleeve was beginning to darken oddly.

You blinked tiredly, feeling quite limp as you stood watching with loose arms.

You were nearly certain you’d collapsed and were having some sort of fever dream. Quite honestly, you weren’t sure what was real or not anymore. With Snoggletog just around the bend, you’d been pulled left and right, putting things up, herding, mending, working overtime. 

His face dropped and he startled, frantically patting at his sleeves, stumbling backwards until he fell back over the still swaying tail of his dragon, who was still quite violently trying to kill another- it was nearly murder, the way he glared, clearly off kilter, throat undulating and flashing oddly through skin as he shot plasma at the larger beast. It was like watching a drunk try to shoot a duck. 

You shuffled slightly, boots feeling stiff in the snow.

Everything behind him was a little bit on fire. It was  a bit… You rubbed your eyes, with the edge of your sleeve, grasping it in your fist as you brought it up to your face. 

It was as if the dragon raids had returned, except… in the day, and it was merely only two causing most of the ruckus.

“Thanks.” You said, with a slight rasp to your voice, feeling quite confused. 

“Happy to help.” Hiccup gave you a shaky thumbs up from where he lay on the ground before grunting pitifully as Toothless, in his distraction, sat down heavily on his chest.

You tapped your fingers, tracing them against a smooth and slightly pointed shining purple and dotted magenta, hard keratin feeling both dry and dusty.

Below you, the sounds of hundreds of baby dragons crowed and cooed and cawed, jumping and fumbling around the deck of an old wrecked ship, held up by the ends of many topes grasped by a whole entourage of Berk’s dragons.

You pursed your lips together as you resisted the urge to whistle- it’d be quite difficult at this height with the wind forcing back your words and blowning your breath back at you.

The dragon you were riding, a self-important purple Nightmare, flew closely to Hiccup on Hookfang, slowly bobbing up and down through the sky with the beast of its wings, giving way to a feeling similar to that of a carousel, the way it felt to sit mounted on plastic saddle, swaying with the rhythmic bobbing of machinery, colorful lights and jaunty mechanical music.

You also fought the urge to shift, to adjust yourself and risk unbalance- with the way the scale was rubbing against your thicks, you were sure you were starting to get saddle rash, even though you two were going saddleless.

“How come your pen’s empty?” You shouted quite suddenly, sound patchy under gale and air. Immediately after, you regretted your decision. 

You were sure Hiccup probably hadn’t even heard you, but the situation was becoming quite awkward and you found it hard to resist. You needed no extra help to make it that way- that was to say, it was still kind of tense between the two of you. 

After some odd dream or a memory with Hiccup in it, you weren’t quite sure, you’d woke up to quite a similar reality. You were sure he’d assumed you were dead, with the way he’d been shaking your shoulder- and at the moment, you’d rather be, if you were going to be frank. 

You were still quite embarrassed.

Hiccup also hadn’t found Toothless yet, which was a bummer. He’d probably show up later.

“What?” Hiccup shouted back. This was so awkward. You could have been sleeping by now if you hadn’t been dragon kidnapped. Or was it dragon-napped? You weren’t a dragon, but you ‘d been kidnapped by one, though the word didn’t really have the same feel to it, saying it all out loud.

“Yeah, you have that pen near your house?” You tried again, ”I don’t know, I always see it empty. I kind of always keep expecting something to be in there and I don’t know why.”

 You almost regretted not sitting behind Hiccup. He’d offered, earlier, except he’d seemed pretty nervous about it, which made you uncomfortable.

Proceeding a heart grumble, your dragon began to jostle slightly, drifting a tad closer to Hiccup and Hookfang.

Your stomach swooped lightly as it did.

 Maybe it was being considerate- or maybe it was because of the close quarters, the way he had to squeeze between the others to keep ahold of his portion of the boat- it didn’t do much to change your trajectory, anyhow. 

You might have been slightly guilty in that you had positioned your dragon quite the ways away from Hiccup on purpose, your spoken word an accidental given permission to take the room you’d so eagerly sacrificed in the name of sanctity. 

“Oh, Right,” He sighed in a fake way with his mouth closed, looking in the opposite direction, “It’s more of an honor thing, I think. We were always too high up to have any sheep or anything -the higher they are, the easier they’re… Stolen, but- it just felt right to have it, since my Dad’s, uh, Chief.”

He coughed that last bit oddly.

“Huh,” You leaned against your dragon's neck, propping your head up with one elbow as you struggled not to nod off mid-air, “Have you ever thought of starting a garden or something? The space is open now. It would be nice.”

“Uh,  I dunno. Maybe.” He said. You pinched yourself as you two settled back into awkward silence, your shoulders threatening to bob. It wouldn't due to fall off, especially not at this height.

You guessed he hadn’t had the time, or Stoick had forgotten to give it to him earlier, which was a bummer. You’d spent a lot of time on it. Or you hadn’t. You were too tired to think.

“Hiccup,” Stoick scolded gently- or as gently as he could, with a voice as rough as his. He was more urging if not a tad gruff, loud enough to be easily heard over the sound of manly Viking chatter and holiday merry.

He towered above his son, though not in a way that was menacing, the lines of his face not so hard in that moment. The warm feel of lantern and torch light was soft against his skin, the gentle feel of cool shadow rounding his edges. 

“You made this for me?” Hiccup asked, some freckles becoming quite invisible against the growing blotchiness in his face, embarrassed red patches bleeding over skin as he pulled open the little brown paper package, prodding at it with slightly boxy, freckled fingers.

It wasn’t that bad, was it? You let your head fall to the side slightly, still feeling quite drowsy. …Whatever.

You’d made quite the effort, carving out a small box with clumsy fingers and a dull knife.  Inside, you’d included a very sketchy portrait of Hiccup. Portraiture was a big deal here- you’d figured it a little while ago. You were quite proud of your work, and perhaps a tad cocky- you knew it was much better than Bucket's, even if it was a tad cartoony. 

You might have even been brash enough to call it the best, though to be quite frank, the Vikings here weren’t at all artistically talented, so it wasn’t too hard of a position to achieve.

“T-thanks?” Hiccup managed to cough out, stumbling forward by one squeaky foot, shoulders jerking as he received a very hearty, congratulatory slap on the back. 

“Ough,” You grunted as he dropped backwards, landing roughly along the side of a thin bench, one of the many lining the long dining tables in the Great Hall. 

 “Yeah…” You said after a long moment of shuffling and clumsy maneuvering so that your arms lay on top of the nearest table’s surface, dropping your head, “No problem.”

 You turned your head, doing a sort of pathetic roll off the side of the table, laying flat against the bench.

Your cheek pressed deeply against the crux of your elbow, face aimed towards the dark underbelly of shadow under the wooden tabletop, in a way that allowed you to hear the shuffling of the boots of the people around you quite intensely, though your ears were most definitely deaf to that and the loud yelling and cheering of your peers.

You were dead set on taking your very well earned, very long, very nice nap.

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Relatively Speaking, This Will Probably Be Fine (ch 10)

Fandom: Girl Genius Rating: T Summary: Everyone knows Agatha Sannikova can't be a Heterodyne, even if she did arrive mysteriously one night to live with Lady Teodora and Lord Saturnus. She's got those headaches, and she's not too bright - she's not even a Spark! She does get along quite well with Lord Saturnus, which is a bit odd, but she's had a very good affect on his health. Lady Teodora doesn't like the kind of, er, "life lessons" he's tried to teach her, but Agatha hasn't set anyone on fire or unleashed any terrifying monstrosities on the town.

...what do you mean, tempting fate?

[last chapter was incorrectly labeled as chapter 10, my bad]

<Last Chapter | Chapter One | Next Chapter > AO3 Link

It was the sort of spring day that promised a perfect summer: the air was thick with the scent of flowers and growing things, the sun shone down hard but the breeze was cool enough to soften it. Whether or not that promise would be fulfilled, at that moment, it was perfect.

Cafes and eateries all over Mechanicsburg had set tables and chairs out in the sunshine, often clogging up the roads to do it, and all were doing a bustling trade. Mechanicsburg took brunch very seriously, and tables were packed with friends and partners chattering over boar bacon and bottomless Mechanicsburg Slings (‘because that’s what you’ll end up in if you drink too many’).

There was only one table in the entire square that bore a single occupant. The table was scattered with several plates and pots of tea, indicating the occupant had been there for quite some time. Hanging from the chair was a canvas bag stuffed with books. The occupant herself was visible only as a cowlick of blonde hair poking out from behind a hardcover copy of The Heterodyne Boys and the See-Saw of Destiny and a pair of legs kicking absentmindedly back and forth under the table.

A shadow fell over her. Slowly, Agatha looked up.

And up.

And up.

Agatha wobbled in her seat, nearly tipping over, and still she could not clearly see the face of the monster looming over her. The creature took a few polite steps back.

He was huge, so big Agatha barely came up to his second knees. Bull’s horns curved from the sides of his head, and four eyes gazed down at Agatha in polite curiosity. A hat was balanced between his horns; he removed it and bowed slightly.

“I do beg your pardon,” he said, his voice a basso profundo rumble Agatha could feel as much as hear. “But you are Miss Agatha Sannikova?”

“Yes,” Agatha said. “That’s me.”

She tried hard not to sound wary, as it would be quite impolite. During her time in Mechanicsburg, Agatha had gotten used to seeing monsters walking around in the open, but it was hard not to be intimidated by the really strange ones. But Lord Saturnus talked so insistantly about how important that was—Mechanicsburg was a haven for monsters, and they should be treated like everyone else—so she did her best.

“I am Guildmaster Jorbelox, of the Guild of Monsters.” He put his hat back on his head and touched the thick chain that hung on his shoulders. The links were the shape of skulls, interspursed with round red gems. In the middle hung a large medallion, emblazoned with a clawed hand reaching up towards a crescent moon. Around the edges it said Guildmaster of Monsters.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Agatha set her book aside and held out her hand, politely.

Jorbelox stared at the hand for a moment, and then—hesitantly—reached out with two fingers (which still swamped Agatha’s hand) and shook it very carefully before releasing it again.

“I wished to inquire after the health of Lord Saturnus. I hear it is improving.”

“Yes!” Agatha said, beaming. “He’s talking again and everything!”

“How wonderful!” Jorbelox said. “Perhaps I shall attempt a visit.”

Agatha hid a grimace.

“Um...you might try a letter instead,” she said.

Jorbelox nodded, apparently unsurprised.

“And the Lady Teodora is also well, I trust?”

“She’s up at the hospital for a checkup. I get to wait here and read my books if I promise not to go anywhere.”

A waiter materialized by the table.

“Guildmaster Jorbelox, will you be joining us today?”

“I would not wish to further interrupt,” Jorbelox said, but he said it in that way people did when they wanted to say yes, but weren’t sure if you wanted them to say yes.

“I don’t mind. I’m pretty sick of this one, to be honest,” Agatha admitted, gesturing at the book on the table. “It’s not very good.”

Jorbelox chuckled.

“Then it would be a pleasure.”

He removed the colorful cushion from the chair and set the chair aside, placed the cushion on the ground, and sat down. Agatha discovered he actually had three sets of knees, which allowed him to fold his legs up quite neatly, leaving him only slightly too high up for the table.

The waiter disappeared momentarily, and returned with a fresh pot of tea.

“I’ve never heard of a guild for monsters before,” Agatha said, carefully pouring tea for both herself and Jorbelox. She tried not to be openly fascinated by how delicately he picked up the teacup with his claws.

“I believe we are the only one in existence,” Jorbelox said. “Mechanicsburg is quite unique in its treatment of the…shall we say, less normal inhabitants of Europa.”

“I meant I didn’t know there was one here,” Agatha admitted. “Do you have a guildhall?”

“Oh yes. If you look at the top of that building, the one with the red shutters, you can just see the capstone figure that sits on the guildhall roof.”

Agatha squinted and yes, she could just about see a winged statue holding a large bowl over its head in both hands.

“It must be a very impressive building,” she said. Jorbelox smiled.

“I like to think so.”

“But why are you all the way out here in the hospital district? All the other guilds are in the Court of Gears.”

Jorbelox hesitated, and covered it by taking a sip of his tea.

“The Court of Gears is where most of Mechanicsburg’s manufacturing is done, and most of the guilds are related to industry—the carpenters, the bricklayers, the merchants. We are not a profession—we simply are.”

“So what made you decide to put it near the hospital?”

“Ah, well. It is not so much that we built the guildhall near the hospital as the hospital was built near the guildhall. Do they not teach Mechanicsburg history in school?”

“They do, but it’s mostly the old stuff.”

“A pity,” Jorbelox mused. “Before Master William built the hospital, this was, er...Well, it wasn’t officially the monster district, but most of us lived here. You may notice some of the buildings have unusual proportions.”

“Oh, I wondered why that house had such skinny doorways!” Agatha exclaimed, brightly. Jorbelox smiled.

“The one three stories tall with only two floors? That would be Mr Amigara’s residence. You may have seen him around--very tall, very thin, rather…” He paused, searching for a word.

“Squiggly?” Agatha suggested, and Jorbelox smiled.

“Rather squiggly in the bones; yes, that’s him. Not much for conversation, I’ll grant you, but a marvelous chimney sweep. Very good at navigating tight spaces.”

“So why did they pick here to put the—”

“Agatha.”

Ms Teodora’s expression was placid, but the corners of her mouth and eyes were very tight, and her eyes were fixed on Jorbelox.

“Lady Teodora,” Jorbelox said, tipping his hat to her. His mouth had also gone tight. “Good day to you. I had just stopped to inquire after Lord Saturnus’ health, and Miss Sannikova was kind enough to invite me to sit with her.”

“How nice,” Teodora said, with a stiff smile. “Agatha, get your books. It’s time to go home.” Teodora drew out her coin purse.

“Oh, please,” Jorbelox said. “Do allow me.”

“No,” Teodora said, sharply. Then she smiled, almost painfully, and said in a very polite voice “Thank you, but that really won’t be necessary.”

“I see,” Jorbelox said. His voice was also very polite. He tipped his hat again. “Do give my best to Lord Saturnus.” In a more genuine voice, he said “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Sannikova.”

Agatha, very aware that something was going on that she couldn’t follow, smiled all the more cheerfully to balance out the strangeness.

“It was nice to meet you, too,” she said, pulling her bag over her shoulder. “Maybe I can come see your guildhall someday.”

“I would be honored to give you the grand tour.”

“Agatha.” Teodora put a hand on Agatha’s shoulder and began to steer her away without another word.

Agatha, feeling contrary and not knowing why, looked back over her shoulder and waved.

“Goodbye!”

Teodora’s grip tightened on her shoulder, and she began to walk faster.

By some unspoken agreement, the argument waited until they were back inside the house, out of earshot of the nosier Mechanicsburg citizens.

“Agatha—”

“What was that all about?” Agatha demanded, fists on hips.

“You shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“I was just making polite conversation,” Agatha said. “I wanted to know about the guild. You were mean to him!”

“I was not mean.”

“Well you weren’t very polite.”

“Monsters are dangerous,” Teodora said.

“All people are potentially dangerous, that’s why you’re not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“All people aren’t twelve feet tall with claws.”

“We were in the middle of the square in broad daylight, it’s not like he could eat me.”

“Agatha.”

“You’re always saying it’s important to be kind to other people! He’s a citizen of Mechanicsburg, just like anybody else,” Agatha said stubbornly. “Lord Saturnus says most of them got chased away just for existing.”

Teodora sighed.

“I told you you shouldn’t listen to everything Saturnus Heterodyne tells you. You shouldn’t listen to anything he tells you.”

“Is that why you don’t like that guy? Because he’s friends with Lord Saturnus?”

“He’s a monster.”

“Guildmaster Jorbelox or Lord Saturnus?”

Teodora’s eyes narrowed and her lips pressed tightly together, but she did not answer. Agatha felt compelled to press on, even though she could already tell this was going to be one of those arguments where neither side would be willing to change. She’d had just as many with Teodora as Lord Saturnus.

They were all three very stubborn people.

“Lots of people in this town have done bad things,” Agatha said. “You only ever get like this about the ones that don’t look human.”

Teodora’s smile was wry to the point of bitterness.

“Because you don’t try to make friends with the human ones. Why do you think we go to the bakery on Bonemeal Road, when there’s one just a few streets away? Why do you think there are some places I let you go alone, but not others? There are many monsters in this town. I do my best to keep you from all of them.”

Agatha was quiet. She knew in her heart her grandmother was right, but it rankled her for reasons she could not explain.

“It only seems like I judge them all because so many of them have done terrible things. I would have been perfectly fine with you having tea with Doctor Hembelbrogg, but if you knew half of what I know about the Guildmaster—”

“They won’t hurt me! They never did bad stuff to the people they live with.”

“That is not my concern. My concern is they are violent, dangerous people who thought nothing of hurting others for glory and fun. I know well enough none of them could stop the Heterodynes, and I am willing to...forgive those who benefited from inaction. But the ones who joined in? I do not want you to associate with those kinds of people.”

“You let me associate with Lord Saturnus,” Agatha pointed out.

“Because Saturnus is blatantly evil. Unapologetically so. You can see him coming from miles away – and if he has one virtue, it is that he admits to what he is. He makes up no excuses; he does not try to convince anyone that what he did was not wrong.

“But most people will come up with excuses; they will lie to themselves and to you, and they can be very good at it. Good enough that they can convince others. Do you remember what I told you about hurting people who hurt you, and how easy it is to let that become an excuse?”

“Hurting people for fun is a universally immoral act,” Agatha said, irritably, confounded that she was having to make this argument to both of them. “No one and nothing in the world can convince me otherwise.”

Teodora stared at her, then rubbed her face with her hand.

“But you already have been,” she said, tiredly. “You think ‘but they don’t do it anymore’ excuses what they’ve done.”

“I don’t think it excuses it!” Agatha insisted. “And I don’t excuse it, I know they were wrong to do it, but I...I don’t…I don’t...”

Agatha struggled to put her feelings into words. Teodora was right, but in her heart, there was no judgement. She could find it in herself to condemn them.

“You don’t care,” Teodora finished for her, not unkindly.

“I do!” Agatha said. “It’s just...cognitive dissonance!”

Teodora looked startled, then amused.

“Yes,” she said. “There is a lot of that here. You may not have been born here, but you certainly...fit in quite well.”

This was said with some strange mixture of emotion, fond but sad.

“Is that...bad?”

The smile grew fonder and sadder, and Teodora reached out to cup her cheek.

“No, of course not,” Teodora said. “I meant you belong here. That is not a bad thing – I simply worry about the influence it has on you.”

Agatha wrapped her arms around Teodora’s waist and hugged her as tightly as she could. “You influence me, too,” she said. “I do listen to you. I just sometimes choose not to internalize your worldview without question.”

Teodora laughed, and it sounded genuine enough to dissuade any of Agatha’s lingering worries.

“That’s what I get for raising you to think for yourself,” Teodora said, with deep amusement, and kissed the top of Agatha’s head. Agatha stepped back and looked up at her, and was reassured that the amusement was in her eyes, too.

“If I promise not to be morally corrupted, can I go see the guildhouse?”

“Next weekend, perhaps. Tonight is a school night, and you have homework.”

Agatha flopped her head back and groaned as she slouched towards the stairs. Morality could be argued, but homework remained frustratingly irrefutable proof of objective reality.

[i-starcreamed]

Oh headcanon requests open YAAAAAYY!!! Ok I'm still wondering about swerve with an absolute badass fuckin cybertronian soldier, with a fearful reputation that commands respect. Idk how they meet or anything but I imagine it evolves into

YAY SWERVE!!

MTMTE Swerve x Cybertronian!Reader

I highly believe that you somewhat met like Cyclonus and Tailgate (similar dynamics i think)

You were standing there, your shadow looming over him as he went on and on. Other bots thought about how you were about to snap at him or something, everyone was very much aware of your reputation.

But no, instead, you told him to go on and occasionally add in your own bit into the conversation

To this day you still loom over him, looking like an absolute beast that’s ready to attack. But actually? You’re lovingly gazing at your littol conjunx

I like to think Swerve’s ecstatic to have a S/O that can protect him, be intimidating as hell, and both cool and kind to him

There are times where his processor can get the best of him, he thinks to himself why would you pick him out of every other bot on the ship? There are mechs bigger, stronger, cooler, and more of a soldier like you! So, why him?

It’s a simple question for you to answer actually, you picked him because well, he’s Swerve! You felt you were instantly charmed by his mannerisms and wit, the way he worked so swiftly at serving drinks, and his genuine grins that were contagious as hell. Plus, it was nice having a break from other mechs you fought alongside with, it was nice just being someone other than a soldier.

Your relationship would be secure and filled with plenty of reassurance. As soon as he starts to doubt himself, he suddenly pushes those thoughts back when you send a look that could kill to anyone that dares shut him up or interrupt him.

And yeah, your dynamic totally matches the image above. Hype him up when he’s about to make some announcement? Obviously. You’re the first one to laugh at his jokes too

When bots that usually frequent at “Visages” start to come to Swerve’s instead, he had no idea why but happily took it as a win (you did not threaten to blow up the place, no way)

You guys are also very much this:

[artycomicfangirl]

Do you have some headcanons of Daisy's and Luigi's love languages they display in the relationship?

Oh man, you know what? You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for an ask like this since…well, Ever! I LOVE these kind of things! I had to do a quick research to brush up on what Love Languages are again. So I took inspiration from some templates I found online. Sprinkled in with a little bit of the Movie-Verse Headcanons.

I guess this is a potential Part 1 of Luaisy headcanons? All because I’m unfortunately not able to list them all as of now!

But, Here we go! Hope you enjoy. Sorry if this ends up being a super long one though, haha.

- Acts of Service -

💚 Luigi would be more than happy and willing to tend to any Plumbing relate problems Daisy has. This is one of the only few times where even if he doesn’t even know the full situation of the problem, he never says no to her needing help, and dives head first without hesitation…

• Even if it means literally diving into that now rising flooding castle basement of hers, just to locate and fix that pesky broken pipe system!

🌼 💚 Cooking for each other. Unlike when I think Peach lovingly does most, if not all of the cooking for Mario. Cooking seems to become a thing divided equally between Luigi and Daisy.

• Luigi is known to be the best at Dinners. Some of his experience gained from helping his Mama back in Brooklyn growing up. And helping Mario cook too. One of his favorite meals he always loves to share with Daisy on occasion, is his mother’s classic Pasta recipes!

🌼 Plumbing can be real exhausting work sometimes! So Daisy is usually the one to fix up some either some real ice-cool drinks to personably bring to him in sweltering heat. Or Make him some hot cocoa or coffee for the really cold days. She’ll even bring some snacks, or even lunch if it’s almost time for a break.

🌼 Whenever she can be there, Daisy would always sit around and keep Luigi company while he worked. Also for the fact so she can pass him tools that he might need during work. Or even better, hold the fort as best as she can to prevent little mishaps that may occur. Need someone to hit a pipe to get it working? Need an extra set of strength to turn that creaky faucet? Trust Daisy to help out too!

- Physical Touch -

💚 Luigi is so, so, SO gentle with Daisy. Not in a way where he believes that she is perceived to be ‘Delicate’. He has faith that she can handle herself of course! But that’s just simply in his nature with everyone else too. Very little to no aggressive or intimidating body language. And with her? It’s just extra sweet.

• He knows she’s strong. But he can’t help but be the one to look out for her and be worried for her sometimes. When he sees her all scuffed up from fights, he offers to bring her water, ointment, bandages, whatever she requests. At first he allows her to try and heal herself. But If Daisy needs more help, he would step in to help tend to her wounds as much as possible.

💚 Luigi was is the most nervous and hesitant in initiating any form of touch at first. He didn’t want to make the wrong moves or anything! But upon the first hug and some vocal encouragement, it was a sign for him that he is on the right track.

He slowly gets more confident in holding hands with her, having an arm around her waist (Although, he can’t help but melt a little at the fact that he could be THIS close to someone he loves!)

💚 Kisses on his nose get’s him all smiley right away! Daisy ends up doing these out of surprise, and it just gets him so much. Kiss him on the cheek? Instantly giddy. She kisses him on the lips? Immediate knockout. He’s giving the Heart-eyes vibe. This is Something he shares in common with his bro too!

💚 When Luigi sees Daisy on the verge of lashing out at someone. He’s the first to quietly take her hand in his to gently squeeze it. This either gets her to look at him, which he gives a nod and look of reassurance for her to think things through. Or it’s almost like an instant touch that needs no words nor looks. But it has an instant affect on her. She rarely gets directly angry at him ever. How can she be mad at someone just so sweet to her? She knows he genuinely wants to help her.

• Sometimes he chooses to gently rub her hands instead. Also an equally effective calming effect.

💚 If Daisy ever feels down or at her worst, he more than welcomes her with open arms, and does not ever judge her for crying (something she rarely ever shows in public. Always putting a strong face.) It matters very little to him in the moment that his hat or clothes would be tear-soaked.

💚 Speaking on the note of a Sad Daisy. There are a few trigger moments which if you end up hurting Daisy, can make this sweet and timid Greed Plumber, decide that enough is enough. There is a reason why his Trope is known as a ‘Cowardly Lion’!

💚 He will try to place himself in front of her always. Whether it is him jumping in front of her to take whatever brunt of force was directed at her without thinking. Or steeling himself up to give stare down (albeit with quaking knees) in front of his enemy.

He starts of with a slight quiver in his voice. But if you continue to mock him or her a second time, the shakiness in his tone fades. Becoming a bit more determined. A quiet strength. At that point, he will not allow you to push him around and insult Daisy like that. Even if he might get knocked around a bit, he keeps getting back up, just to stand up for her.

💚 He’ll even try to use his hat at some points if he needs to cover her face more for protection.

💚 For some reason I feel like instead of usually carrying a Princess Bridal-style like Mario does. Luigi tends to carry Daisy on his back more. This often leads to escaping from some very comical situations!

🌼 Daisy is DEFINITELY the one who is not shy in expressing her affections naturally. But also really straightforward in her actions.

🌼 Ever experienced one of those surprise Run-at-top-speed Jump hugs? That’s Daisy for you! She often forgets to tone herself down sometimes.

🌼 Pulling him by the suspenders of his overalls gently just to kiss him.

🌼 She’s the one ending up carrying him like a bride instead HA

🌼 Like Luigi, Daisy is always one to step in front of her beloved to shield them from any potential danger. She is usually the one to Yank him out of the way with top speed (Apologizing immediately to him afterwards!) and pull him close to her body to try and cover and protect him as much as possible.

🌼 You would not be able to live it down if Daisy sees you harming or insulting Luigi. She is super quick on to you, ready to throw hands (And weapons, if in a fight)

🌼 She and Mario share the same kind of sentiments when it comes to standing up for Luigi.

“Say that again about my Boyfriend…And you’re gonna regret it!”

- Words of Affirmation -

🌼 Daisy is the one with the vast supply of pet names and complements!

🌼 The Iconic “Hey Sweetie!”

🌼 Buttercup, Honey-Bee, Weegie, Squeegie ect

🌼 If you don’t stop her, she may resort to floral Puns!

🌼 When it comes to support, she is like a really passionate cheerleader. You would definitely see her yelling her heart out at the sidelines of any event/competition/Kart race

🌼 When she writes notes or letters, Daisy tends to be the one who draws little doodles at the end of each letter, or just as little decorations here and there. Mario may or may not have accidentally revealed that he had caught Luigi chuckling at a letter he received from Daisy. Only to be told by his younger Bro that he found her drawings adorable and it made him smile. So she’s been doing that ever since!

💚 Luigi is a bit more reserved with this type of thing. But in fact, he is secretly the more poetic one! Surprisingly The type who’s words of love end up being a natural Cupid’s arrow.

💚 I see ‘Desert Flower’ as a popular head canon compliment he might say, and I also agree with that!

💚 Why do I feel like he would totally be the one to call her “My Dynamite Gal”??? When he’s mustered up so much confidence??

• Because Luigi is known to be more shy and timid, he does have more struggles with confidence in some parts. Leading to this possible little interaction:

—————————————————

💚 “ Face it…How can I even do this? I’m such a loser! I mean, look! I literally got a huge L on my head!”

🌼 “…Does It really have to mean Loser?”

💚 “H-huh? I-I…well what else can it be?”

🌼 “Well…put it this way. You’re kinda like a Clover!”

💚 “A…Clover?”

🌼 “Yeah! You ward off evil. You’re green all over. So How about…Lucky?”

—————————————————

- Quality Time -

💚 Luigi ends up loving taking strolls around the castle with Daisy. Whether it is in the Palace Gardens, or by lakes and rivers. Even Flower fields, where he’ll even attentively listen to her pointing out the new things.

💚 Luigi May end up getting challenged when he goes out on hiking trips with Daisy. The first few trips, he ends up faltering behind a little (He has bad knees everyone!), But Daisy would often slow her pace down a little so he can keep up. She doesn’t mind one bit. But overtime, he pushes to improve himself, in which he now is actually able to keep up by her side. She’s extremely proud of him

💚🌼 The Camping trips together are always fun though! Well, excluding some Minor scares and freak outs from the local wildlife at night. Luigi Teaching Daisy the classic treat of making a S’more. While Daisy would do something shared from her own land sometimes!

🌼 Daisy loves whenever she and Luigi get to go on one of their ‘Sports dates’, and is usually the one initiating these meetups (Knows all the good places!) while Luigi throws in suggestions. Usually consisting of Golfing especially. She is more knowledgeable in the technique, which she ends up teaching Luigi what she already knows. She likes to jokingly say that he’s “Learning from the best!”

🌼 If they end up moving in together and sharing the same bed, Daisy would be the type to wake up a bit earlier than Luigi does. Then goes back again to get some extra sleep hours. She has this little habit where she can’t help but give a little kiss on his cheek by then. If he continues to sleep, she lets him be. But if he ends up wanting to be woken up by this, she starts to go in for more kisses. Some of them are quick ticklish to him!

All until she’s gazing back at sleepy half-open eyes, A lopsided smile, and a very happy green Plumber who’s morning has just been made even better!

💚 On Luigi’s part, he’s the one who sleeps the last. Letting Daisy sleep first before him, as he sometimes has a bit of work he needs to attend to. Or just simply reading a few pages of his favourite book beside her.

• When he notices a lock of her hair astray on her face, he ends up brushing it aside for her. In that moment, he seriously cannot believe that this beautiful fiery woman is his beloved, and is right next to him.

- Receiving Gifts -

💚 It is a popular head canon going around that Daisy is very into gardening. So, Luigi would even go out of his way to brush up on said topics about Gardening and nature just for Daisy. Same thing that he would do when it comes to her other interests, just so he knows what to get her!

💚 He has really great callback memory, in which he is able to remember most of the conversations he would have with Daisy when she talks about various plants. Including seeds and flora she wishes she could obtain to grow in her castle Garden. So! Every often, he would visit the local markets or shops in the town, where he would check up all the latest imports/exports to see if he can find some uncommon, or even rare seeds for him to collect for her. If it’s something from Brooklyn, he most likely tries to buy seeds of flowers for her smaller pot plants!

If he goes on adventures with Mario, he does something similar where he collects various trinkets or souvenirs for him to take home for her, or send to her by mail.

🌼 Daisy is definitely more extravagant, and a bit more ‘flashy’ when it comes to gift giving. She does not do this to show off. She 100% fully believes that her believed deserves the best he can get…Even if it ends up giving him the biggest of blushes. And just so happens she can’t stop gushing about it either in her own way!

🌼 Actually at first, she might have been giving him ‘Weird’ gifts for the first few times when they became a couple. They’re not offensive gifts! But they were a result of her having misunderstood some of his hobbies and likes at the beginning. But never in bad faith, as she genuinely tried to guess what would make Luigi happy. But luckily with help from Peach and Mario, she got good results. And long the way, she started getting better at gift-giving.

🌼 I mean, have you seen that Golden statue of her and Luigi in her own Mario Kart Course? If she was the one who commissioned that, she would totally go THAT far.

🌼 She would go on a secret calling spree, prepare a huge birthday with all of his favorite foods, invite literally all of his friends and family as a complete surprise. Making the Green man crying out of happiness.

🌼 Well, not exactly a traditional kind of gift. But just for him, Daisy would end up wearing cute dresses or other outfits. Something he likes. But that’s because we all can’t deny, Daisy is still Daisy. She still loves to tease Luigi one way or another.

Green Bro may have been staring a little too long, as the Princess walks by in a tank-top and shorts combo!

[putschki1969]

2024/07/30 Blog post by Wakana 明日締め切りです！！〜夏の強めの目覚ましビーム〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

The Deadline Is Tomorrow!! ~Powerful Summer Wake-up Beam~

These days, it's hot every day… 😇How is everyone doing? During the summer, I run the air conditioner in my living room 24 hours a day. When I go to bed, I open the bedroom door a little to let the cool air from the living room flow into the bedroom…The gap in my door is perfectly in line with a small vertical window on the east side of my living room. Every morning without fail at around 5 o'clock, the strong morning sun hits my eyes like a laser beam. (I took this photo while half asleep) It's a very intense way to wake me up. This morning, I was woken up by the beam as usual.

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

Of course I'll go back to sleep. 😪💤I've been thinking about putting up some kind of blind on this small window, but every year, the summer ends without me putting anything on it 😂

Now, everyone!! The deadline for this month's podcast submissions for the episode on August 10th is tomorrow! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

The talk topics arte:

What kind of pillow do you use?

Anything you want to ask me♪

Please tell me about your pillow situation at home! Which kind do you find comfortable to sleep on? Do you even use a pillow? Or maybe you have a bunch of pillows? Or you could share a particular way of sleeping on a hot humid night! I'm just very curious about everyone's pillows! 😄And of course you can ask me anything you want once again so please don't hesitate to send your questions＼(^o^)／I'm waiting! ! ! ･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+

Click here to submit a message! ↓↓↓ https://wakana-fc.jp/answers/botanical_oshaberi_12/new

Everyone, please take care of your health and don't push yourself too hard! The other day I felt a bit squeamish when I was drying my hair with a hair dryer 😱 I think it was probably because it was too hot 😓Even though I was in a cool room with a fan on and keeping hydrated🥺 Your head can get overheated easily even if you are being careful🥺Don't forget to take precautions against heatstroke even when you're at home!

Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/08/01 Instagram post by Wakana

Last month, I went to "Ghibli Park and Ghibli Exhibition" in Tokyo‼️(^o^) It was so much fun~😍 This has made me want to go to Ghibli Park even more ✨I'll definitely go someday…😳✨There were so many great photo spots, I had so much fun taking a ton of picutres😂Today I'll focus on the Totoro section💕 I was happy to see Totoro and the Cat Bus welcoming me at the entrance♡ The inside of the the Cat Bus was so fluffy🥰 They also had Satsuki and Mei's father's study room in display. I love the wobbly pillars😂

I got a Totoro and a little Totoro as souvenir☺️💓 I have a lot of other photos so I'll post them later~🌻(Source)

2024/08/04 Instagram post by Wakana

"Ghibli Park and Ghibli Exhibition" Photos Part 2!! 🥳🎉 Today's post is dedicated to Princess Mononoke 🐾 Here I am at the photo spot where you can ride on Yakul and Yamainu on a merry-go-round 📸They were both so cute and beautifully decorated…😍💕I brought along my San keychain, so I showed it to Yakul 🤗 (Yakul didn't seem particularly interested though) (Source)

2024/08/07 Instagram post by Wakana

"Ghibli Park and Ghibli Exhibition" Photos Part 3!!🥳🎉 Today is dedicated to Spirited Away 🐲🍙 I got to take some photos with No-Face😍💕 I was nervous…😳💓No-Face was pretty tall😳 It was bigger than I imagined and I thought "Wow"😳

I also visited Yubaba's room🤗I had a big smile on my face while imagining Yubaba saying to me, "From now on, your name is Waka! Okay, Waka!"😂I wasn't intimidated at all😂

Tomorrow I'll post a little summary of my adventures at "Ghibli Park and Ghibli Exhibition"!!🧚✨ (Source)

2024/08/08 Instagram post by Wakana

I'm worried about everyone in Kyushu after the earthquake that occurred this evening. I hear that there might be a wave of aftershocks and other earthquakes but I hope that the damage will not be too great. The expected epicenter area also includes the Kanto region so I will do my best to be prepared. Please be careful, everyone.

Yesterday I mentioned that I would upload a little summary of my Ghibli adventure so here it is☺️ These are the last photos from my visit to"Ghibli Park and Ghibli Exhibition"🥳🎉I was able to look at various exhibits but now, more than ever, I want to go to Ghibli Park soon🥺 That really sums up my feelings…!!🥺💓 It's like a dream to be able to actually experience those amazing stories in the real world✨I vowed to myself that I will definitely go to the park someday soon🧚Until then, I will continue to dream about that day! 😻🔥(Source)