#fear quirk comic

[dgalerab]

local radio lore drop man has adhd, more at 2 am on his next broadcast

part 1

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please boo and throw tomatoes if you don't see another part within 2 business weeks

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

[harompe]

Okay no, I'm a millenial also and we need to take the L on this one. "Adulting" is a cringe term that serves no purpose. If you wanna say, doing chores/running errands/making phone calls/completing paperwork/whatever else it means to you, just say that! It's useless to have a term that is so all-encompassing and so vague, but it's also very embarrassing to act like doing work/completing tasks is a unique and insurmountable thing to you at your big age. We need to kill adulting fr, I'm with gen Z on this.

[luna-azzurra]

List of character flaws that could make a funny original character (OC) even more entertaining

Chronic clumsiness: Tripping, stumbling, and knocking things over with comedic regularity.

Absurdly bad luck: Experiencing a series of comically unfortunate events.

Exaggerated laziness: Finding increasingly creative ways to avoid doing any work.

Uncontrollable laughter: Breaking into fits of giggles at the most inappropriate moments.

Inability to keep a secret: Accidentally blurting out confidential information or gossip.

Extreme forgetfulness: Frequently losing belongings or forgetting important appointments.

Obsessive-compulsive quirks: Engaging in peculiar rituals or behaviors for no apparent reason.

Social awkwardness: Saying and doing the most cringeworthy things in social situations.

Over-the-top dramatics: Reacting melodramatically to even the smallest of inconveniences.

Excessive talkativeness: Rambling on endlessly without realizing they've lost their audience.

Compulsive lying: Fabricating outlandish stories to impress others or get out of trouble.

Food obsession: Constantly eating or talking about food, even in inappropriate contexts.

Nervous tics: Displaying quirky mannerisms or habits when feeling anxious.

Paranoid tendencies: Jumping to wild conclusions and imagining elaborate conspiracy theories.

Uncontrollable curiosity: Snooping around and getting into trouble due to a relentless need to know.

Over-the-top superstitions: Believing in absurd lucky charms or rituals.

Excessive hypochondria: Constantly diagnosing themselves with imaginary illnesses.

Silly phobias: Fearing utterly ridiculous things, like rubber ducks or clowns.

Inability to tell time: Consistently running late or showing up at bizarre hours.

Ridiculous fashion sense: Sporting outrageous outfits or hairstyles that defy all logic.

These flaws can turn your funny OC into a lovably eccentric character, bringing humor and charm to any story or situation they find themselves in.

[lechrts]

Die For You. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Friend!reader

Summary: When he’s the only one that’s allowed to pick on you. (And unfortunately someone else picks on you, and it backfires.)

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer/s: fluff… kinda… defensive!Lando 👅. A tad bit of body shaming i fear …

Vera’s Voice! hi Enya. For U. i hope i did this justice.

The bar was alive with laughter and music, and you were perched at the counter, sipping on your favorite fruity cocktail. As usual, Lando couldn’t resist making a comment the moment he saw you.

“Another one?” He said, sauntering up next to you with a smug grin. “What is that now? Your third? Fourth?“ He grinned with a small pause.

“Be careful. We can’t afford to have you tumbling like a drunk mess in the streets later.”

You glared at him, already irritated. “I can handle myself, and this is my second drink. Thank you very much.” A scoff and eye roll emitted from your body.

“Yeah, right,” He replied, his grin widening. “Say that again when you inevitably start slurring your words and crying about how much you hate tequila.”

“Ha. Funny.” You deadpanned.

“I’m serious,” He pressed, leaning on the counter with a quirked brow and stupid smile. “You’re a lightweight. One more of those, and you’re topless on a counter.”

You scoffed, taking another sip of your drink just to spite him. “And I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“Maybe so,” He fired back with a sheepish shrug. “But I’m just looking out for you,” Another wink.

Before you could respond, one of Lando’s mates—you couldn’t remember his name, they weren’t that close honestly—wandered over, clearly overhearing the exchange.

“Seriously,” He said, his eyes scanning the glass in your hand. “Another sugary monstrosity? You know that stuff makes you bloat, right?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You froze, the insult hanging in the air as your self-consciousness surged.

“And for the record,” He continued, smirking like he’d just delivered the joke of the century, “It’s not exactly flattering. Just saying.”

Lando’s head snapped toward him so fast it was almost comical. But there was nothing funny about the deadly look on his face.

“What’d you say?” Lando’s voice was low and ice-cold, a tone you’d never heard from him before as her quirked a brow with a repulsed look.

His friend blinked, caught off guard. “Just telling your friend here that she’s gonna get fat if she continues drinking all that—“

Lando cut him off with a light shove, almost like it was a warning for him to shut up

“Relax, mate. I was just jok—”

“Yeah? Well, it wasn’t funny,” He cut him off sharply, now stepping forward to put himself in front of you. “Who even says that? You think that’s funny?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” The guy stammered, clearly starting to regret opening his mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lando snapped. “You don’t talk to her like that. Ever. Got it?”

“Alright, chill, mate. I didn’t know she was off-limits or whatever.”

“Off-limits?” Lando repeated, his voice rising. “She’s not off-limits, she’s just better than your pathetic attempts at humor. So why don’t you piss off.”

The guy muttered something under his breath before walking away, leaving the two of you standing in tense silence.

“Lando…” You started, but he turned to face you before you could say more.

His expression softened as he ran a hand through his hair. “I hope you don’t believe a word he said.“

You swallowed hard, still feeling the sting of the comment but touched by Lando’s protectiveness. “Thanks for…that,” You said quietly.

“I mean it,” Lando said, stepping closer. “I know I’m a prick but it’s all in good fun.” A pause. “I also never make comments about your appearance.. considering you’re gorgeous…” He trailed off, his sly way of sneaking in a compliment making you slightly blush.

You huffed out a small laugh, your lips twitching into a faint smile. “I don’t know what’s more shocking: that you just defended me or that you actually said something nice for once.”

“Don’t get used to it,” He said, his usual smirk creeping back.

“Of course,” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “Who else will tell me I’m stupid every second they can?”

“Only me,” He added, his tone more serious. “No one else gets to. Not like that.”

You looked up at him, his sincerity catching you off guard. “Deal.”

And just like that, the teasing and bickering was back—but this time, you couldn’t help but feel a little safer, knowing Lando had your back.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[felinecyan]

Untouchable

[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When a classmate breaks a well-known rule within the dorm, you decide to take it upon yourself to “fix” the issue.

WC: 2863

Category: Mega Fluff, Kindhearted!Reader, Todoroki being an icon (like always 💅)

I don’t know about you guys, but writing for Bakugo is the single hardest thing I have ever done. He is SUCH a difficult character to get right 😭

I believe I did him justice, though 🙏🙏

『••✎••』

Kaminari had a death wish. That was the only logical explanation for why the electric blonde was currently in the common room with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, along with a bowl of ramen that just so happened to belong to one Katsuki Bakugo.

Food was the one thing the explosive hero didn't joke around with, and the rest of Class 1-A was painfully aware of that fact. It was like a rule that had been ingrained into everyone's minds after spending any amount of time around the temperamental blonde.

Do not, under any circumstances, mess with Bakugo's food. Ever.

So the moment you had walked out of the kitchen and saw the familiar spice-infused soup in Kaminari's hands, you knew there was about to be a disaster. And that disaster was going to happen at the cost of the boy's life.

You were about to warn Kaminari when a familiar voice stopped you, its monotone quality giving away that it belonged to the heterochromatic hero. "Don't."

Todoroki shook his head at your concerned expression, a sigh leaving his lips. "It's not worth the effort; he'll learn the hard way. I would suggest standing back unless you want to get hit."

As if on cue, the sound of a bowl shattering against the floor echoed through the common room, and you flinched as bits of ramen and broth splattered your pants and shoes. You could only imagine what kind of mess it would have made if you had been standing any closer.

At the same time, Jiro sighed, plugging her ears as she muttered, "So much for getting some peace and quiet today."

Kaminari stood a few feet away from the mess, his entire body trembling in fear. He was too scared to move, frozen to the spot. His golden eyes were glued to the blonde standing before him, a murderous aura surrounding the ash-blonde.

"Bakugo, look, I can explain—"

The blonde's crimson eyes flashed in anger, and his face contorted into a feral snarl as he cut the electric user off. You couldn't stop the flinch that shook your body at the tone. "You... you..."

"It's just one bowl of ramen, dude! I'm sure you could easily make another one!" Kaminari exclaimed, waving his hands in front of his chest frantically. "I mean, come on, I know you love spicy food, but surely you're not that much of a monster that you'd kill me over it! Especially with something so mild as that!"

The room went silent, and Kaminari's words echoed in everyone's ears, but it only took Todoroki’s comment for the tension to change from fearful to downright chaotic.

"That was his last packet."

It was almost comical how fast the blood drained from Kaminari's face and how fast it returned a second later. The electric blonde gulped, a nervous laugh escaping him.

"B-Bakugo, listen—"

He was cut off again, this time by an explosion, which had been aimed right at his face. Thankfully, Bakugo missed on purpose, but the sound had been enough to startle everyone.

"You're so dead, Spark Plug!"

And thus began the chase, with Kaminari being chased around the room by an enraged Bakugo. Kaminari's screams of terror and Bakugo's threats and explosions filled the air, and everyone watched on in amusement.

Well, everyone except for Iida. He was chasing Bakugo, trying to calm the blonde down and yelling at him for using his quirk indoors, but his efforts were fruitless.

"Stop running around the room! You're going to destroy the furniture and break something!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, DUNCE FACE! GET BACK HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!"

Typical afternoon in the U.A. dorms.

After what felt like forever, the chaos eventually died down, with Bakugo calming down enough to sit and stew in his anger and Kaminari passing out from his quirk short-circuiting. You helped Iida clean up the mess that had been left behind, and everyone else returned to their activities.

But you felt bad for Bakugo. Yes, the blonde was a little intense and downright mean sometimes, but you knew what it felt like to crave something you didn't have. Especially when you physically buy that ‘something.' So, you decided to go out and get the angry Pomeranian a replacement packet.

Of course, given the fact that being empathetic was a common occurrence for you, the explosive hero wasn't at all surprised to see you walking toward the doors of the dorms with nothing but your wallet and a smile.

And he was not pleased.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the blonde, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Honestly, you were still shocked that he was still in his uniform, given he usually changes the moment he walks through the dorms. Not to mention, he even started wearing it properly, which was a feat in itself.

"Umm..."

"If you're about to say the damn store, I'll blow your ass to the moon," he threatened, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips.

"I'm just going to get you some more packets, okay? It's not a big deal," you said, your eyes softening. "I don't like seeing people upset, especially not over things that can easily be solved."

"Like hell, I'm upset!" He snapped, but the lack of bite in his voice gave him away.

You raised an eyebrow but kept your mouth shut. After knowing Bakugo for as long as you have, you've learned that the best way to deal with him is to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself—at least, all thoughts and opinions about him.

"I'll be back in an hour, okay?" You said, offering him a kind smile. "Is there anything else you need?"

Something about the look in your eyes and the kindness in your voice was enough to make the blonde falter, his resolve slipping. He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face.

But, since he didn't respond, you figured that was all you were going to get from him. So, you turned back around and headed for the doors, intent on leaving.

You hadn't gotten very far, however, when the sound of the couch squeaking alerted you. You turned your head just in time to see Bakugo jump over the back of the sofa, his slacks making a thud sound as he landed, snatching his phone off the coffee table before he headed in your direction.

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath, causing you to tilt your head, but before you could say anything, your wrist was being grabbed, and the front door was opening.

"If we're gonna get the damn ramen, then I'm coming with. It's annoying when people come back with the wrong shit, so it's better to go myself."

"Oh," you hummed, not expecting him to follow you. You smiled up at him, and the scowl on his face deepened. "Well, alright, then. The more, the merrier."

Bakugo grunted in response, dropping his grip on your wrist so he could shove his hands into his pockets. "Just keep up, alright? I don't want to wait for your slow ass."

With that, the blonde walked out of the dorms, and you were quick to follow.

For those twenty minutes, you couldn’t help but be amazed at how quiet the walk to the store was. Normally, Bakugo was yelling at someone for one reason or another. Whether it was because they were stupid, slow, or a bunch of other reasons that seemed to only make sense in his head, he was never silent.

But, currently, it was different. Bakugo wasn't talking, or yelling, or grumbling, or doing any of the things he normally does. He wasn't even walking fast, keeping his pace slow just enough so you could keep up.

He didn’t have a scowl on his face, either. He wasn’t smiling, of course, which would actually terrify you if he was, but there also wasn’t a sign of irritation or anger on his face.

In fact, he was the most relaxed you had ever seen him, his muscles not as tense as usual, and his posture was straight, yet not rigid. And his crimson eyes seemed to have a hint of softness in them, something that you had never noticed before.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized that the two of you had arrived at the store until the ash-blonde had started walking through the automatic doors, not waiting for you to catch up.

Shaking your head, you hurried inside, quickly scanning the store for a sign that pointed to the aisle where the ramen packets were. Bakugo was a couple of feet ahead of you, with a look of indifference on his face as he followed the sign. However, he stopped once he reached the right aisle and turned around to look at you.

"Hurry it up, nerd," he growled, his impatience getting the better of him.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile on your face. "I'm going, I'm going."

Bakugo didn't say anything as he turned back around and started walking through the aisles, and you were hot on his heels. Believe it or not, you were on a side mission, determined to not just grab the ramen for him.

He got distracted, and the two of you weren't in a hurry, so you went around and grabbed a few things that you knew your classmates had mentioned wanting. If you were going to take the time to go to the store, you might as well make it count.

After a few minutes, you ran into Bakugo, who had his arms full of different flavors of the ramen brand he liked. He took one singular glance at the contents of your basket and rolled his eyes.

"The hell are you getting all that shit for? I ain’t helping you carry anything."

"Well," you huffed, a pout on your face. He seemed to realize you were about to give him an entire speech because he immediately let out the most dramatic groan you had ever heard from him and began walking away.

You didn't care, though, and continued speaking, following him around the store.

"Well, I was just going to get the ramen and be done with it, but then I ran into Mina, who told me she was craving some 'chocolatey goodness,' which are her words, not mine," you explained, pulling out the package of chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Anyway, so, then I ran into Kirishima, who was complaining that there were no manly snacks in the pantry, and the last of his protein bars were eaten the other day, ironically also by Kaminari," you added, showing him the small box of protein bars. "So, I figured I'd get him some more and make sure Kaminari has his own snacks."

Bakugo groaned once more, still refusing to look at you. And, again, you ignored him and kept speaking.

"Also, Sero wanted more chips, and Koda was asking for some extra treats for the animals," you continued, showing him the chips and animal treats. "I didn't run into Midoriya, but he’s been awfully kind with his notes, so I'm pretty sure he would appreciate some gummies and pocky."

"Alright, I get it," Bakugo grumbled, a grimace on his face.

"Mineta also asked if I could grab him a new bag of limes, but I figured, after that little stunt he pulled in the changing room, that he doesn't deserve to have his gross habits indulged." You scoffed, trying to make a dramatic gesture but failing, given the items in your arms.

Bakugo paused in the middle of the aisle, turning around to finally face you, his arms still full. "You done?"

"Hey, you asked." You shrugged, a smile on your face. "I wasn't finished, though. Jiro wants more popcorn, Ojiro needs some more protein powder, Hagakure needs—"

"Is any of that shit even for you?" He cut you off, narrowing his eyes at you.

You pursed your lips and tilted your head. "No. Why?"

"You came all this way, wasting money on everyone else's crap, and didn't even think about grabbing shit for yourself?" He asked, his eyes narrowing further. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Um, well, no?" You answered although it came out as more of a question. "It's not a big deal. I was already going here, anyway."

Bakugo clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He walked forward and, without a word, dropped his armful of ramen onto your own. "Hold these."

Before you could protest, the ash-blonde walked past you and disappeared from view. Confused, you spun around and tried to follow him, but the sudden weight in your arms made it hard to move.

"Bakugo, wait up! I can't move!"

"Then stop moving, idiot." His voice was muffled by the shelves, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was. But, as if he had a sixth sense for things like this, Bakugo returned to the aisle, his arms full of random snack foods and drinks.

"What are you—"

"Shut up and follow me," he said, not letting you finish your sentence. You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp glare from the blonde made you close it.

Bakugo led you through the aisles and dropped the items onto the conveyor belt, much to the surprise of the cashier. The young girl didn't dare comment on the large pile of utter junk food, however, and merely rang it all up, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Once the total came up, you pulled out your wallet to hand the girl the money, not wanting Bakugo to waste any of his own money on you, but the blonde snatched the bills from your fingers before you could pay.

"Hey, what—"

"I said, shut up." He clicked his tongue and turned away, his back facing you. You could hear the rustle of his pockets as he fished out his own wallet, and you were quick to shake your head.

"Bakugo, the whole point of me coming here was so I could pay. You were the one who got his last packet stolen, so I was supposed to be paying for the new one, and—"

"Do you ever shut the hell up?" Bakugo interrupted, his voice gruff. He didn't turn around to face you, but his tone was enough for you to shut up. "I don't give a shit about the money. It's my own damn fault for letting that dunce face near my food, anyway."

"But—"

"And it's not like I need the money," he added, pulling a couple of bills from his wallet and handing them to the cashier. "My parents are loaded. It's not a big deal."

Way to show off, Blasty.

But you knew better than to say that. Instead, you closed your mouth, your eyes softening. It didn't make sense to you, though, because not only was he buying his own replacement ramen, but he was also buying an abundance of junk food, which, while tasty, wasn't for him or you.

It's always about repaying the favor with him, but this was just... unnecessary.

"Thank you," you said instead, knowing that he would only get irritated if you kept protesting. "That was... unexpectedly nice of you."

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he grumbled, picking up a few of the bags. He handed them to you, and you struggled to balance the weight, but you didn't complain. "It was your fault for being too damn nice."

You blinked, not sure if you were supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult. Either way, you didn't say anything and merely nodded. Bakugo didn't spare you a second glance as he grabbed the rest of the bags and began walking toward the exit.

"You coming, or what?" He called out, not looking back at you.

A smile grew on your face, and despite him not even looking at you, something told you he could sense the happiness radiating from you. You hurried forward, struggling a bit to balance the bags in your arms and keep up with Mr. Grumps, but the smile didn't leave your face.

"So... does this mean we're friends now?"

"The hell? No!"

"I think we are, Blasty."

"Don't call me that." He narrowed his eyes at you, but you merely giggled.

"Would you rather it be Kacchan? Kaminari's been using that one a lot lately."

"Call me that, and I'll blast you into the fucking sun."

"Blasty it shall be, then."

Needless to say, the walk back to the dorms was the complete opposite of the walk to the store. But, just as the silence between the two of you was comfortable then, the bickering and teasing and overall playful nature of the conversation was comfortable now.

Bakugo would never admit it, and you knew better than to ask, but he didn't have a problem with the nickname or the new friendship that blossomed between the two of you.

And you didn't have a problem, either.

[lovebugism]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

[allmightluver]

@hhbluedynamite I’m going to make separate post here to address this. Tumblr mobile is a pain and I can’t add all picture examples I want to it here goes.

This has been a debate ever since My Hero came out,

“Why are All Mights eyes black?”

There’s been multiple explanations from how his borrowed quirk works to simply his own emaciated state. I’ve come up with my own theory. It’s said the eyes are the windows to the soul. I believe All Might’s eyes grow darker the more “weight” he carries.

For example,

When All Might was a kid, his eyes were normal. White. After losing his family, rendering him an orphan, white. Even after losing Nana, still he looked normal.

And after first releasing to the public.

This is because although he’d already been thru hell and back emotionally, he’s still normal. Even with his quirk.

Then, after he’d been in the game a while, they suddenly darkened.

Why?

Because by that time, the full gravity of his position, his responsibility and the realization he was essentially alone in that place, had fully sunk in.

Because he was so over powered above everyone else, everyone including the heroes left him to take care of almost everything they felt was too hard. And because he’s a selfless person at heart without a care to his own safety, he willingly allowed it to happen without asking for help. He didn’t want to risk losing anyone else. Which is also why he didn’t take on any sidekicks.

Until Nighteye.

Vigilantes showed us Toshinori when he wasn’t being All Might. And his eyes turn back into white in his more relaxed form, albeit with tired lines beneath them. However this is when he had Nighteye to count on. And Nighteye can see the future, so perhaps he would be safe, right? Well we know what happened there.

After he and Nighteye break up go their separate ways, we never see Toshinori with white eyes again. (Unless I’m forgetting so please tell me if I am). Now he’s injured, only a handful of people to trust, and none can truly understand what he’s going through. At this time he truly is alone, and the one thing that gives him joy is slowly but surely being fizzled out within him.

All Might’s eyes continued to remain black for years. Even after giving his quirk to Izuku. He still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders because he feared for Izuku’s safety. Blamed himself for every scar and Injury the boy suffered thru. Even though he was retired, nothing had changed. In fact it was worse now, because he could do nothing to help anymore.

And then he gains support items to face AFO for the last time. He’s a distraction, a willing sacrifice to slow the monster down, and he couldn’t be happier. We see the whites of his for the first time. All through the fight we see them, shaded albeit, but they’re there.

When he speaks to Nighteye asking if this isn’t the place he was meant to die, Nighteye confirms that it is. The fact that he’s still alive makes him raise the question, why is he still here then? I’m the mentor, Izuku is a ready and worthy apprentice. He doesn’t need me anymore. I’m supposed to be dead by now. His eyes seem darker here, as if the weight and his own depression have increased again. Perhaps begrudgingly accepting his fate.

But then here after Nighteye tells him he reads too many comic books, and that there’s no way he would go out that way, we get a closer look. Although his eyes are still shrouded in black because of his emaciated state. His eyes themselves are clearer, brighter. Even if Nighteye is only in his head, his words are still bringing him hope deep down.

While being tended to medically, his eyes are dark again, though I believe this is mainly due to him barely being alive and conscious at this point. And they’re still white, more than we’re used to seeing.

Finally after the war while they’re recovering, his eyes remain white, though they’re still shaded. The weight is still present. His work isn’t done yet. Izuku is losing his quirk, and he still feels like a failure in some sense because of that. Also because he and Bakugo almost died. And because of everyone who did die in the war all because he failed to stop AFO after three tries.

People who weren’t qualified to be heroes were even involved in this battle. And he thinks it unfair to hold such high standards when there are people who can still help, even if not at the extreme levels of the top heroes. He and Deku are proof of that!

In the last chapter several years later, we finally see Old Man Might! And his eyes-they’re so bright. ❤️

Of course they’ll always have a little shadow to them because of his sunken in appearance, but the tired lines under his eyes are gone. There’s not the black bags from pushing himself too hard, just the normal wrinkles that come with age.

This is Toshinori that’s been missing for decades. The man whose impossible weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders. He knows he can finally relax, he doesn’t have to be on alert or on call anymore. The world is safe without him.

He even found a way for Izuku to keep up his hero work with a suit similar to his own during the war (though most definitely suped up).

Finally, he can be at peace. His body, soul, and mind can finally begin to heal. He can work through all of the trauma he’s been stuffing down all of his life.

Finally, he can live.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

vi ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Secret Door

Series mlist 

Tags — short boring filler chapter, mention of hangover, murder jokes (reader isn’t joking I fear)

Words — 0.5k

You awoke the next morning with an intense pounding in your head and the immense confusion of how you ended up in your own bed. Your memory from the night before was rather hazy, just the purple of the lights and the blur of red that was Yuji and… Megumi. Megumi and his lingering presence, Megumi and every memory you had with him. Megumi who recognized you, whose words caught in his throat upon seeing your face. Whether that was a good or bad thing, you weren’t attentive enough to tell. 

You sat up with a disgruntled groan, the blanket that had been embracing you piling up in your lap with a soft noise. The sunlight was seeping in through the cracks in the blinds, the little amount of light all too much for your strained eyes. 

“Finally awake?” came a voice across the room, one that was all too familiar and all too condescending. Maki sat at the bottom of her bed, eyeing you through the shining lenses of her glasses. 

You grumbled, letting a tired yawn leave your cracked lips. “Sadly,” you said, pulling your knees up to your chest. You leaned your head down on them, messy tufts of hair falling all around. 

She let out a half amused hum, a breath leaving her lips. “Megumi brought you home,” she said simply, her voice carrying that tone of indifference that it always did. It was a little scary, honestly. Your head shot up, and you barely even cared to wince at the way the painful throb intensified at the motion. Your eyes were wide, comically so. “He did?”

She nodded, giving a short nod in the direction of your bedside table. “Yeah. I’d check your phone if I were you.” 

… that stupid fuck. You were going to kill Toge. Maybe panda after, too. 

Later that afternoon, you sat curled up on your bed, the same as you’d been earlier in the day except you lacked the frustrating pain in your head as well as the nausea resting in your gut. You glanced up from your phone to look at the girl sitting opposite to you in your dorm. You were a little nervous, both to ask and to actually act on the results of said question. It was better her than Yuji, though. 

“Maki?” you asked, voice still hoarse from sleep. “Hm?” She hummed, glancing up at you. 

“What’s Fushiguro’s number?” She paused, quirking a brow at you. Maki wasn’t necessarily one to tease, but the way she was looking at you got pretty close. 

You rolled your eyes, tossing a pillow sitting at your side across the room, at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I want to say thanks for getting me home last night.” 

She let out an amused huff, but nodded nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll send it to you.”

Taglist !¡ —

@meowymeowbreow @1l-ynn @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @missunrise @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @qingpunk @azharyy

chapter 6 and they’ve met once… they’re actually gonna start interacting trust I think… toge went offline for two hours after reader texted him. Everyone was scared she actually killed him megumi lied in bed all day thinking about her he want that cookie so bad

[cera-writes]

I’ve been on a recent X-men evolution obsession and like-

Headcannons for X-men Evolution!Kurt Wagner x Gn!reader that’s human and knows he’s a superhero but doesn’t really care? Like they’re just confused on how nobody else realizes Kurt and his friends are the x-men- (Like they don’t where no masks no nothin😭)

A/N: Riiiiight? LOL. Yeah, I can think of quite a few!

X-Men Evolution! Kurt Wagner x GN!Reader (Superhero Obliviousness)

Headcanons:

You first met Kurt at Bayville High, drawn to his quiet demeanor and dry wit. You never saw his demonic tail or sulfur scent as anything but...quirks.

One random afternoon, you saw a news report about a giant Sentinel robot attacking the city. Guess who was teleporting around it with a blue furry friend? You just stared, then shrugged and went back to your homework.

You become Kurt's confidante. He vents about the X-Men's crazy missions, frustrated that no one seems to recognize them. You listen patiently, offering support, but mostly confusion.

Phrases you use a lot:

"Wait, wasn't that... wasn't that you on TV fighting a giant metal thing?" (Kurt: 👁️👄👁️)

"So, like, why doesn't anyone else see you guys teleporting around in broad daylight?" (Kurt: 🙃)

"You're telling me the whole school doesn't know you have a tail? Have you considered... brighter clothes?" (Kurt: 😐)

You become the X-Men's unofficial "civilian consultant." You help them strategize normal people things, like disguises (which they desperately need) and blending in.

Kurt finds your obliviousness endearing. You're the one constant who sees him for who he is, not a demon or a superhero, just Kurt.

You do get worried when they leave for missions. Kurt, bless his furry heart, tries to downplay the danger, but you see the fear in his eyes.

Eventually, you confront Professor X. It's a polite but firm conversation about the utter lack of secrecy. Professor X is surprised, then impressed by your deduction skills. Maybe you could be a strategist someday? (You politely decline.)

Dating life:

Public dates are a nightmare. You constantly have to steer conversations away from the giant robots Kurt keeps "accidentally" bumping into.

Movie nights become a game of "spot the X-Men cameo." Bonus points if you can guess their power being used.

Cuddling sessions often involve Kurt teleporting in exhausted from a mission, tail twitching nervously. You just hold him close, whispering reassurances.

You're the ultimate hype person for the X-Men, even if no one else knows it. You're secretly keeping a scrapbook of their "heroic deeds" (news clippings with doodles and witty captions. You've even sketched their faces and made silly comics about them).

Overall, your relationship with Kurt is a hilarious mix of obliviousness and deep affection. You may not understand the superhero life, but you'll always be there for Kurt.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Ok I have a request that’s been brewing in my brain, what if Daryl and reader were out on a run and reader finds a mixtape in the car and plays it, and one of the songs is Creep by Radiohead and she starts singing along and he’s never heard her sing before and he’s like totally enamored by it. But when he starts to listen to the lyrics it maybe hits too close to home and he starts to get insecure and think he’s not good enough for her and he’s kinda standoffish for a bit and when he finally tells her what’s wrong she shows him how much he means to her and how special he is to her AHHHH

Ps ur writing is amazing I love it sm 🫶🫶

Creep

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Anxious!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Allusions to sex.

A/N: I cannot tell you how much I LOVE this request, thank you Anon! I'm sorry its taken me a while I have been ill as hell, but I'm hoping to get a few bits uploaded today when my heating kicks in and my fingers start moving again!

-

The dashboard is dusty. The kind of dust that seeps up your nose and makes you smell damp. The car is cramped and the road is bumpy as all hell, but he’s content, almost peaceful as she smiles over at him. He quirks a corner of his mouth upwards in response, knowing he’ll get lost in her smile if he lets himself, and the last thing he wants to do is crash the car when its so full of wares.

It’s not new, not really, their….relationship. It’s the culmination of the electricity that’s been thrumming underneath the surface for a while. So it’s not new, not really, but it is tentative. Everything with Daryl is tentative except killing walkers and hunting; there’s a sick sense of irony that it took the world ending for him to be confident in something. He’s not confident when it comes to her, even now. Even now she’s sitting there holding his hand as he drives back to Alexandria. He could have initiated the hand holding, probably, maybe, she’d like that, but the fear that he’s going to be rejected for trying is always overwhelming.

This run was simple, thank god, neither of them are bruised and battered though Daryl did smack the side of his head rather painfully against a door trying to block a walker. They’re taking three boxes of canned goods, some jumpers for the colder weather and a large handful or seven of treats back to Alexandria. He feels good. Better than he has in a long time; he can almost forget that his shoulder hurts every morning and his brother is dead and the dead are, you know, eating people.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, fighting the quirk of his lip that tries to sneak up on him again and failing miserably. She clocks it anyway, picking his hand up to her lips to press a kiss to it before dropping it out of reach in a way that’s so very her. She’s careful with him, never overstepping the boundaries she guesses he has because he hasn’t actually told her, but she offers affection like most people offer hellos. She never pulls away without reassurance.

“Can I see what’s on this?” her voice breaks him out of his thoughts, holding up a crappy mix-tape she’d found atop one of the boxes. She doesn’t even know if it will work, but she’s trying to be appreciative of the small mercies that come with this impossible life and by a stroke of luck they’re driving a car old enough to still have a damn tape slot. She doesn’t expect words to accompany his nod.

And suddenly she’s blaring out the words to a song he vaguely remembers from before, dancing in her seat whilst she lowers her voice for comic effect.

She can sing, he knows she can so she’s doing this for his benefit, to make him laugh. He’s heard her voice in the shower, echoing through their new home, melodic and soft and beautiful. His whole body is warm, bursting at the seams with affection, with the knowledge that she thinks of him even in the tiny moments; that even when she’s doing something she’ll enjoy she’s still trying to entertain him.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

Maybe it’s the words that set his brain off. Maybe its that the dust reminds him of a home that had never been a home. He thinks back to all the times he’s watched her from a distance, the times he was too afraid to talk to her but wanted to keep her safe, following her from behind like a fucking stalker. He flinches as the memories of the kids in the playground flood him, the ones who’d called him weird and creepy, the voice of his father saying nobody would ever love him, the southern twang of his brother saying the same, ‘nobody is ever gonna love ya except me, baby brother’. But she does, doesn’t she? Or at least something close, she’d made that clear.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

Hadn’t she made that clear? Hadn’t she kissed him of her own volition? Had he stayed too close until she had no other choice? Had he made his feelings too obvious? Had he been weird and creepy? Had he forced his affection on her until she’d just given in? Maybe people in his previous life had been right about him.

He pulls through the gates on autopilot, doesn’t even remember who was on guard duty but someone had to have let them in. He unloads the car, mind simultaneously numb and in overdrive, hands the boxes to…someone and slams the door shut hard enough he makes himself flinch.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Her soft voice barely registers through the muddled thoughts, she sounds far away and out of reach.

“Nothin’”

He shakes off the warm fingers against his arm, turns to trudge back to their shared house, ignoring the way her footsteps follow in time with his, trying to ignore that he knows she’s got shorter legs than he does and he knows she’s trying to catch up.

“You’re a terrible liar”

“I ain’t”

“Daryl-“

“I can’t do this” he pauses, doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he scuffs his toe against the asphalt. He hasn’t thought far enough ahead to realise she has to follow him home as she lives there, he just needs to flee “Us” he clarifies as if she hadn’t worked it out already.

“You were fine five minutes ago, I don’t-”

“I ain’t good at this shit. I dun’ want it” he lies through his teeth.  He’s never wanted anything more in his life.

Her footsteps don’t resume as his do, and he takes her not following as acceptance, as proof his brain is right, as confirmation she never wanted him in the first place. Kicking off his boots as he seeks sanctuary inside their home he leaves the front door open for her. He’s never been inconsiderate on purpose.

Body freezing momentarily when he finally hears the front door click shut, he breaths a small sigh of relief that she’s home before guilt gnaws at him. Chewing his fingernails, he half expects her to come to his room, but he hears her upstairs closing the door to hers before the boiler kicks in to tell him she’s taking a shower. His head throbs at him, but the painkillers are in the bathroom upstairs and he avoids taking them unless he really has to.

It’s a testament to how fucking awkward he is that he hides in his basement bedroom until the sun has set, as if he hasn’t wanted a cigarette for the past two hours. Carol won’t let him smoke in the house, a rule implemented months ago, before she’d left for her own smaller house. He’s yet to break it out of respect and if he’s honest, fear. If anyone could sense something wrong from buildings away it would be Carol, and he doesn’t trust his partner housemate not to tell Carol just for a laugh. Daryl both loves and hates how close the two women are, by which he means that it’s lovely until he is the target of their anger or humour and then it is significantly less so.

“Thought you might want some company” her voice startles him out of his thoughts as she sits gracefully next to him on the front step of the porch.

“Don’t need ya pity”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not pitying you” She tries to keep the anger out of her tone. She doesn’t know what’s going on but if she’s confident about one thing its that Daryl wants her and she’s not about to let him sabotage his own happiness by being hard on himself “How’s the head?”

“Sore”

She shakes the small bottle of aspirin at him, pulled from the pocket of her pyjama pants.

“Take a painkiller”

“Better spent on someone else”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mo’ important people ‘ere than me, I ain’t ever been worth nothin’”

“Daryl-“

“Nah, I ain’t, I weren’t worth shit before, didn’t even have a fuckin’ job, ain’t worth shit now”

“Don’t do that, don’t act like you’re not important, just fucking don’t”

There’s such fierce disappointment under the ire in her tone that it stops him for a beat. He raises his gaze from the smooth wooden steps to look at her face, takes her in properly since he’d walked off earlier in the day. He catches the worry in her eyes, the wobble in her bottom lip she’s trying to bite away, chewing nervously.

“Why? I dun’ deserve ya, dun’ deserve any of this” voice cracking, splintering at the edges around the emotions he’s so used to burying. He can’t bury them when she’s looking at him like this.

“I’d die for you and you don’t even think you matter” she laughs sadly, but its wet, squishy, it doesn’t sit right on her face through the water that’s leaving her eyes. He wonders if she’s aware of the magnitude of what she just said, but she isn’t done, doesn’t show a sign that he can interrupt to point it out “What did I do wrong? How have I failed to show you that? I don’t understand”

Daryl has spent his whole life thinking he is in the way, that he’s a burden no matter how much he tries to prove his worth. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, but here she is crying at the thought of losing him, taking his ridiculous issues as a way she’s failed and he can’t have it, he just can’t. He reaches over, linking his fingers with hers, looking down to watch the way her thumb rubs over his fingers.

“Did I push this on ya?”

“Daryl no”

“What if I didn’t give ya a choice?”

“Daryl, look at me” she waits patiently until he turns his head to her “I chose this, I chose you” she keeps her hand in his as she eases up off the porch steps, tugging his hand until he complies, stubbing out his cigarette on the way up “Come inside”

She looks the door behind them, dims the lights before letting her hand drop and standing facing him in the middle of the room. He stands stock still, lost and confused as she strips her clothes off, purposeful but not rushed. He feels the heat that floods his cheeks.

Finally, when she’s completely naked she locks her eyes on his

“This scar, the one on my side? When I was seven I fell out of a tree, had a stick go right through, it was gross. This one on my shoulder? Argued back once with the wrong man, put me through a door. This one? See it? Put my arm through a window three sheets to the wind on bad tequila, think I wanted to end it all”

He swallows hard, never having had the stories behind the scars he’s seen. They’ve been intimate, a handful of times since this thing started, but she’s hidden almost as much as he has so this bravery is new. Astonishing.

“Do you see me, Daryl?”

“Yea-“ the crackle in his own voice cuts him off.

“Look at me and tell me I don’t look like I have a choice right now. Tell me you made me do this”

“I can’t”

He doesn’t realise he’s stopped closer until her fingers are toying with the collar of his button down.

“Please take it off”

He wants to protest, shifting on his feet in discomfort but the look on her face is so fucking soft, so open and vulnerable as she stands bare in front of him and he tries to keep his eyes on her face. He’d never deny her anything, so he undoes the buttons with shaking fingers. Hers follow, easing the shirt off his shoulders.

He shudders as she traces her fingers over the scars that litter his torso, reaching forward to place his hands around her waist, grounding and solid. Her skin is warm under his touch.

“I wish you could see yourself how I do”

“What d’ya see?” He whispers, kneading the flesh under his palms absentmindedly. He’ll deny himself the pleasure of his base urges as he’s done throughout the years, but even he’s not strong enough not to trail his hands up and down her skin, knuckles grazing the underside of her breasts with each upward stroke.

“Strong, kind, decent. You’re beautiful, Daryl Dixon”

He sucks in a sharp breath as she continues.

“Blue eyes, the way they look at me" she didn't need to look up to his gaze to know it was there, but she does anyway, sees the admiration, the pleading that's always behind his eyes "Look at your hands on me” she lays her hands over his, marvels at how much space they take up on her ribcage “Big, warm hands, safest hands I’ve ever known”

He clenches his eyes shut, shaking his head in disagreement, opening them again when he feels her palm against the stubble on his cheek.

“They’re safe, Daryl, I don’t know what’s happening in here right now” she taps his forehead with a finger “But I see you. Let me love you”

“Ya love me?”

“Yes” makes sure she looks at him when she says it, simply and firmly, no room for argument “Eyes wide open, knowing who you are, knowing what you’ve done, seeing you. Yes. I love you. Let me show you”

[birdsandbeetlesandmoths]

The Sonic Movie Franchise and The Found Family Trope

A personal request by my dear moot and friend @writer--in--theory, which I am entirely happy to deliver on.

Feel free to point out inconsistencies or anything you think I can improve on in my analysis.

Alright, so, the Found Family trope. Extremely popular and very well done, along with one of the tropes I find the most fulfilling to write in to fanfiction.

As I, and I believe most people in fandom, consider the Sonic movies to be an AU, I’m not going to be comparing specific relationships or characterization to any other games or media, other than that the familial aspect is more apparent in these films than in most games, and I haven’t read enough of the comics, either Archie or IDW to develop opinions as to those.

The Sonic movies do a fascinating job at truly displaying and fleshing out that found family trope that is more of a notion or behavioral quirk between characters in most games. They aren’t given as much concrete development in games as the movies have allowed, since the Sonic games focused more on the gameplay aspect rather than a more slice-of-life/slower storyline (a story that takes its time to create relationships between characters) that found families are most often found in.

I'm going to go by specific character relationships, and connect them as needed.

Sonic's Characterization

The first Sonic movie begins with Sonic losing his only parental figure, an extremely traumatic event that leaves a hole in him for the rest of the series and leaves him to fend for himself during his most formative years. He grows up alone, but retains the sassy, care-free demeanor.

I believe the reason he's still so outwardly unaffected by that trauma is that he coped for much of the unseen years between Longclaw's death and formally meeting the Wachowskis through exploring the world. He finds a home in Green Hill because he sees a home in the Wachowskis. We know that he had already been "spying" on them for a while and hanging around their house without them knowing. And he feels that longing for a home, a family, for what he had with Longclaw, and he wants that back.

But he is still aware of what he is, of how they might see him, as only an alien. And that is what keeps him away, that fear of the possibility and being rejected again, being alone again. So he's content with just viewing their life, imagining himself with Tom and Maddie.

I think that's one of my favorite parts of Movie!Sonic. Despite many of his characterizations by the fandom is as an emotionally unavailable character, Movie!Sonic is emotionally intelligent, whether already or as a result of having to grow up too soon. To take care of himself early on, and as much as he may boast or pride that he is totally fine having fun and running around the world, he is, in the end, running to escape the possibility of standing still and realizing that he is still incredibly lonely. While he may not explicitly say it, much of that initial montage in his cave and at Tom and Maddie's movie night, from the outside always looking in, he is aware of what he feels. However, that fear keeps him away.

It pushes him to the baseball diamond, and him running to escape the emotions, the memories, and his imagination, creates that very first outburst of incredible energy and power that alerts the real danger (GUN).

It's only the possibility of being found out by an unknown danger, being attacked and forced out of his cave, out of his home yet again, that forces him to finally act. Not quite meet the Wachowskis yet, as that isn't his intention.

But he does knowingly go to the only other place he feels safe at. The Wachowski's home.

He realizes that he needs to run to escape this danger, doing what Longclaw's last words bade him do before she sacrificed herself for him, but is found by Tom (and promptly shot with a tranquilizer, but, y'know, it starts rocky sometimes!!).

As for the Wachowski's, as original characters we have nothing to expect of them. But they are immediately charming and unique and, while understandably wary of Sonic at first, immediately realize the danger he's in and want to help him.

Sonic and Tom Wachowski

An obvious father-son relationship within the overarching found family (which will eventually include Tails and Knuckles, but I'll get to them later). However, Tom's interactions with Sonic are written in a way that feels incredibly sincere and I think their believability together made my skepticism for humans being related to Sonic (as a character and as a story) disappear.

Tom is obviously skeptical as well at first, especially after finding out that Sonic had just been spying on them for years. But when he learns of Sonic’s past and how he’s been alone for all of the years after that, he understands. He wants to protect Sonic from whoever is hunting him, from experiencing that loneliness again, and after getting to know that little blue blur, is willing to do anything to make sure that Sonic is safe, that he has a home.

And Sonic is bracing for the inevitable rejection again, after he chooses to stay in Green Hill and not escape to a new world, near the end of the movie.

But they surprise him by showing him that they want him to stay, setting up a whole room for him, and allowing him to be a kid!! He doesn’t have to be alone anymore, because he has a family who wants to take care of him, who cares about him and would literally throw the rest of their life to the side to care for this little hedgehog who crashed into their life one day.

There isn’t enough content between Maddie and Sonic only for me to give her a section as well, but she definitely feels the same. The protectiveness she feels is just as strong.

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles

Sonic and Tails

Now, for the even better found family relationship. Sorry, as much as I love Tom and Sonic, these two will forever be my heart.

Tails, in the movie, is also coming from another planet, bullied and ostracized from his village most of his life for the mutation causing his double tails. He hears news of a blue speedster and, beginning to practically idolize him, uses his capability with technology to track Sonic down. While it’s barely explained why Tails is looking for Sonic in the first place, he is clearly expecting for something to happen to Sonic, saying that he hopes he “isn’t too late.” What exactly, he’s worried about, isn’t explained either, and he and Sonic are pulled into the race to find the Master Emerald against Robotnik and Knuckles.

Tails is, thankfully, not characterized as naive or too young to be responsible, which I am glad for, as I was initially worried that they’d infantilize him as a result of him just being a younger kid. He wants to prove himself, rather, and shows his skills through his gadgetry and eagerness to help Sonic, and his initial adoration and interest in Sonic changes into something more brotherly. Tails was inspired by Sonic and saw someone who was clearly different, other. Just like him. And he thought that if Sonic could be great, then maybe he could too, and his otherness didn’t have to stop him.

My favorite scene for this is when they’re in the inn in Siberia, and both of them are finally able to see a more relaxed, actual child-like version of the other.

Sonic is told that he’s Tails’ first real friend, the first person to truly care about him, and to not judge him for his appearance or his interest in tech. And Tails is surprised by this fact, not sure at first if Sonic is being genuine, but once realizing that he is, hugs Sonic and reveals the parts of himself, the feelings and his past, that he hid and felt shame for for so long.

Sonic and Knuckles

Sonic and Knuckles have a classic rivals to friends relationship and it was probably one of my favorite parts of the movie besides Sonic and Tails being absolutely adorable.

Knuckles is another character who is alone, the last of his kind, a race of fierce warriors and protectors, who value loyalty, strength, and honor above all. He’s seemingly destined for a solitary life, much like Sonic assumed himself to be, from the beginning of the movie, and his lack of knowledge of the world he is adjusting to allows him to be taken advantage of by Robotnik so easily.

(Christ, loneliness and loss is a really reoccurring theme, and I haven’t even gotten to Shadow yet)

Knuckles is only able to truly interact with and talk with Sonic after he is betrayed by Robotnik, breaking one of his key values and shattering his worldview and who he believed was the right side. However, he fully expects Sonic to leave him behind as well after the temple battle, the flood overtaking him. But Sonic, seeing only someone who was taken advantage of and who also lost everything he loved, chooses to save him, nearly sacrificing himself in the process. Knuckles also saves Sonic as well, after realizing that Sonic didn’t swim to the surface with him.

Sonic chooses to deliberately ignore that Knuckles was apart of the tribe that killed Longclaw, letting it bring them together in grief instead of driving them apart, and doesn’t care that Knuckles has been attacking him since they met, as Sonic understands why and forgives him for that. Knuckles doesn’t understand, at first, why Sonic saved him in the first place, but when Sonic explains his hero concept and that he needs to take responsibility for others and couldn’t just let Knuckles die, Knuckles sees who Sonic is.

And a mutual respect is gained.

Knuckles, while he is incredibly blunt, deliberate, and honest, understands this. He sees a pure will that he admires in Sonic.

Altogether . .

The third movie only strengthens their bond, as both Tails and Knuckles have been accepted into the family, as the Wachowski’s are happy to adopt another couple of super powered alien kids.

Tails and Knuckles, while still sidelined due to Shadow’s storyline, are key factors in how their team functions and they work the best together. This is a result of the familial relationship formed in the time between movies 2 and 3, as they, during that time, are able to live together and learn from each other.

While they do have a 3rd act separation that I was worried about, it’s established that it’s only allowed through the trust formed between Sonic and Knuckles. Which they handled perfectly, as it wasn’t out of character and wasn’t even malicious, it was a result of the trust between all three of them. They all suffered when Tom was critically injured, they all watched the ambulance drive off with the same, devastated look. They had become so close over these few months together.

Their relationship becomes the most adorable and genuine of sibling relationships, as they are all able to bond over discovering the world, learning and playing and being allowed to be kids. I know I emphasized this before but I will do it again: What makes this found family so incredibly strong is that all of them are able to learn from each other, to build and grow alongside each other and they have all greatly affected each other’s lives in ways that changed them for the better.

Their shared experiences of otherness, of loss, of grief, brought them together into warmer emotions of family, of friendship, of trust.

That is the basis of a found family. People brought together through mutual respect, understanding, and love.

Outside of Sonic-related relationships . . .

Shadow and Maria

Shadow crashed into Earth from a meteorite and supposedly spent the first moments of his life on Earth in a lab, in a tube, isolated but for scientists who would stare and write and run tests and treat him as, honestly, less than a being with a conscience.

The time before Maria was probably extremely lonely, despite him being surrounded by people, setting a precedent that Shadow would assume that humans wouldn’t want anything to do with him, didn’t care about him aside for his powers.

But when he meets Maria, she immediately interacts with him, smiles and mocks him playfully, not for the purpose of analyzing him, but just because he was another kid in the lab, and she wanted to be friends out of pure interest for who Shadow was, not his alien blood.

The montages of their time together in the lab, spent having fun running around the halls, Maria introducing Shadow to dancing and music and sweets and movies and everything he would never have gotten to experience if not for her, only reinforce their close bond, the family he found with her. She was the only one who could understand him in the lab, probably in his whole life, as we have no clue what happened before he crashed to Earth.

The rooftop scene is my personal favorite, as Shadow feels comfortable, safe enough, to confide in Maria about his self-consciousness, his fear that his power will make him only terrifying, only a monster.

Maria comforts him, telling him that he can choose who he wants to be for himself, that he’ll know who he wants to be in his heart. She teaches him that his purpose and life doesn’t have to be dictated by what he possesses or what he appears to be, as his actions and decisions are what truly matter.

That even when a star has long since faded, their light still shines.

This barely concealed metaphor for the effect your life can have on the people you know is beautifully poetic, and reminds Shadow, near the end, of what his true goal should’ve been.

That Maria would have never wanted him to hurt others, to destroy the world, in order to avenge her. Because she loved the world. And Shadow would never want to destroy what she loved.

They make me hurt in the best way. Maria’s line about a star’s light still shining even after it’s long since faded breaks me every time.

Agent Stone and Ivo Robotnik

I know that this isn’t necessarily found family in the familial sense, but if you don’t ship them or believe them to be romantic, don’t worry, this further analysis is purely from a non-shipping perspective.

While the power dynamic is clearly tilted towards Ivo, and I think this acknowledgement of the relationship is very one-sided in the way that Stone is very aware of how he feels towards Ivo, with his devotion and willingness to do whatever it takes for Ivo, while Ivo does not outwardly admit how attached he’d become to his agent, his presence and intelligence, and that he appreciates and needs Stone’s company. Ivo has never spoken his feelings aloud while Stone has practically worn them on his sleeve.

My point is that the third movie, in terms of Ivo’s plot, outlines the choice between blood relations and your chosen family.

Ivo has a chosen family, which consists of only Stone. He’s never had a true family before, no blood relatives, no parents to speak of, and when he discovers Gerald, who may be the first blood family he’s ever had, he begins to value blood over chosen, leaving Stone to pursue a life with his grandpappy over him.

However, when it’s revealed that Gerald never cared about Ivo in the first place, only needing him to be able to achieve his goal of destroying the world in order to avenge Maria, even going far enough to say that Ivo could never be Maria. Could never be what Maria was to Gerald. Ivo realizes the mistake he’s made.

Ivo has his hero moment, to attempt to redirect the Eclipse Cannon’s impending explosion, that “if he can’t rule the world, he might as well save it.” He is still, as much as he may say he hates it, affected by his humanity.

And when giving his final livestream, he finally speaks aloud the feelings, the effect Stone has had on him, in his own words that he knew Stone would know the true, sincere meaning of. That he truly did value him and care about him (“I love the way you make them”), which wasn’t even just about the work Stone did for him, but also what Stone brought to his life, that consolation and trust.

Ivo said that Stone was the only person in his life he could trust. That he was the only person who truly cared about him. As tragic as that sentiment is, he’s right. Stone loved Ivo unconditionally, and Ivo didn’t realize this, didn’t realize that he also cared for Stone, until it was too late for him, but not too late for him to make sure that Stone lived.

——————————————————————————

All in all, the Found Family dynamic, in all of its forms, from parental to siblings to a weird boss-employee relationship, is practically perfect.

These relationships are well-built, developed by shared experiences that characters bond and heal over, mutual respect for each other, a strong trust, and an unconditional love between them.

Oh, the unconditional love is the most important part. Because that is what brings so many people into the found family trope.

Those who are experienced with not getting that constant trust and unbreakable bond from blood, seek that love from others. Build their own family. And the families crafted in these films are beautiful.

[todayisafridaynight]

I feel like it would be fun to see Leo's actor in Mole Song Final play Ryuji... that's the only person that comes to mind 😭😭

BUT YEAH 4 was the first mainline entry with (proper) faceclaims! I would kill to see faceclaims get to play their characters. Because they actually aren't mocapped by them, just voiced and scanned in--the acting is all done by RGGS' mocap actors. If you're mentally ill enough you'll start to notice acting decisions that differ from what the actual actor would've gone for; Arakawa doesn't cry the way Nakai does, for example. NGL the animations get kind of uncanny at times if you're too mentally ill so I would not recommend paying quite that much attention lol

I was trying not to think about it though because even if we By Some Miracle got to "season 7" (8 if they do 0) it's entirely possible Nakai and/or Tsutsumi won't be acting anymore by then 😭😭😭😭😭Tsutsumi wants to start directing by the time he's 60... That's chiefly why I kinda wanted it to be an adaptation of 7 before we knew any of the specifics... But Oh Well, it is what it is

ANYWAYS. Very excited for stream tomorrow and best of luck getting stuff done for today :D

YEAH LIKE UNDOUBTEDLY he gave such big ryuji vibes and had an epic presence..... if i allowed myself to dream just this once he would be a real good contender for ryuji......

ohhh yeah nonono ive definitely noticed DONT WORRY. whenever i draw or write fics, i always try to imagine the actual character first to see if the expression or dialogue fits them and if it's believable. having dove more into tsutsumi and nakai movies and shows, the difference is REALLY apparent to me (in that vein tho, it's easy for me to see them as individual characters as opposed to actors playing characters, so it's a little bit of a win for me somehow lmao)

YEAH NOOO THATS DEF A VERY LIKELY POSSIBILITY SHOULD THE SERIES SOMEHOW GET TO THAT POINT IN THE GAMES. again i doubt we'll actually get that far, but in the rare event that we do i hope nakai and tsutsumi do whatever makes them happy (and id def be into seein a movie directed by tsutsumi) (❁´◡`❁)

I REMEMEBR THATLKVJELK WHICH ONE OF YOU FIENDS SENT ME THAT FANCAST SITE IN THE FIRST PLACE ☠️☠️☠️☠️

[pink-a-link]

Just a thought. but Goldie and Freddy’s hat symbolism has to be my favorite little analysis quirk thing ever (as of recent). I was looking at how these brothers reflect each other in the way they mope about and slope their shoulders when they feel ashamed or guilty, and it’s such a great parallel with their ear movements signifying distress especially.

I mean, just look- they emulate each other so well >:U

But I was thinking about how Freddy was shown to be nice in recent comics, old ones too (because come on, the fandom demonized him way too much and he’s not as mean as he seems—except for when it comes to Goldie—just very grumpy at times!). And just him comforting his friends, and being there for them, more than just a leader or dictator like he’s made himself to be, which is enabled by the company too. I loved how he brought himself down to their level in this scene.

Not physically, because he’s already there lol, but emotionally, and almost mentally. From his ears in the panel before we know he’s nervous, but most importantly he takes his hat off. The hat that illustrates his status as their leader, and also how he dictates over them. Like it’s an added pedestal to his stance. It demands authority when reminders are needed, and he takes it off for his friends, his bandmates.

BUT WHEN GOLDIE APPEARS!!!!

Freddy puts his hat back on, like he’s demanding authority and respect (or rather fear in Goldie’s case) once again. He hasn’t taken his hat off for Goldie in years. And I just love that. Like a lot.

Bonus points for when Goldie’s hat is removed and now he’s vulnerable again. (They barely take their hats off because they’re always in their roles/positions)

[stevie-petey]

hear me out, imagine if steve wasn't that much of a loser with girls. A blur where a girl kinda flirts with him at his job and bug would be like "i don't care...👀"

OH DELICIOUS REQUEST ANON

enjoy <3

"i gotta say, i love a man in uniform."

you drop the comic youd been reading onto the booth youre sitting at and watch the girl standing in front of steve, doing a horrible job of flirting with him. shes blonde, small and dainty looking, and you quirk your head as you watch her grab for steves arm.

steve, meanwhile, stares at her with wide and terrified eyes. "oh, uh. thanks, i guess? but what are you doing?"

"admiring the man in uniform," the girl giggles, now encasing her hand around steves upper bicep. she lets out a dramatic and far too fake gasp and giggles once more. "and hes a strong man at that."

"i mean, ive been working out." steve responds, his voice squeaky and uncertain as his heart drops. he knows hes said the wrong thing.

you narrow your eyes at his response.

the blonde girl leans across the counter, making sure to lean her chest close to steves face, and the poor boy is doing everything he can to keep his eyes focused on her face.

he can practically feel your eyes burning into the back of the girls head. he knows youre watching them and that he has maybe five seconds before you set fire to his car. steve clears his throat and tries to escape. "hey, uh. robin?"

his coworker opens the sliding windows and almost chokes on her spit when she sees the blonde girls boobs so close to steves face. "oh my god."

"yeah," he clears his throat again and motions over to the blonde. "robin, would you mind assisting this, uh. lovely customer while i go make sure the girl of my dreams doesnt murder me?"

"im not the girl of your dreams?" the blonde girl suddenly pulls away from steve with a sneer on her face.

"far from it, dude." robin snorts at her, now joining steve at the cash register. she takes a peek at where youre sitting and notices that youve been watching them the entire time, your expression stony and unamused. with a wince, robin pats steves back. "good luck, man."

"im so dead," steve drops his head in shame as he starts to walk over to you. he sees the annoyance on your face and you watch him approach with your arms crossed. he feels like hes walking towards a death sentence. when steve sits down at your booth, you lean back against your seat and stare at him. "have i ever told you how beautiful you are?"

"no."

"well, i should!" steves voice is higher than usual and he feels like hes about to die.

seeing that hes sufficiently terrified, you roll your sleeves up and bring steves hand to your upper arm, where your scar from almost two years ago resides. "feel that?"

steve stutters over his words. "you-uh. your scar? or, shit. no, your skin is so smooth? like, insanely smooth. smoothest skin ive ever had the honor of feeling-"

"no, silly," you look up at steve and bat your eyes at him. when his breath hitches and he risks a look at your lips, you smile. "i mean, ive been working out. cant you tell?"

steve practically tears himself away from you and you cant help but laugh at his misery. "you heard that?"

"oh yeah. real smooth, by the way." you roll your sleeves back down. "like my skin, apparently."

"im sorry, angel. she was scaring me and my brain short circuited." steve drops his head onto your shoulder, mourning his stupidity.

you bring a hand up to his hair and begin to play with it as you console him. you know he hadnt meant any harm, that he truly had responded to the blonde girl out of genuine stupidity and fear, which is only further proven by the way he melts against your body and wraps an arm around you. steve isnt even your boyfriend and yet here he is, soaking up your forgiveness as if his life depends on it.

the blonde girl looks over at the two of you and gives you a dirty look, which you smile at. you raise a hand and wave at her, smug, and she rolls her eyes and stomps away.

robin, meanwhile, gives you a thumbs up and shouts from across the room, "crisis averted, then?"

"i didnt die!" steve shouts back, face still buried in your neck.

"not yet, at least."

steve sighs. "yeah, tomorrow i'll probably say something worse."

"oh, you definitely will, honey."

[loveelle]

Last Night

Jim Halpert x Reader

A/N: Well, took me a bit longer than I thought it would but here it is! The fic yall voted on the last few weeks! Not entirely sure how I feel about it, bit back and forth for me, changed quite a few ideas from when I first decided I was going to write based on this song, but yeah! Let me know what you think!

This fic is based on the song Last Night (Beer Fear) by Lucy Spraggan so I suggest giving it a listen to!

WC: 4.2K

Master

A/N2: When you see “---” that means a time skip forward or backward depending on where you are in the fic, hopefully that makes sense!

---

Your head hurt.

Oh god, did your head hurt.

You hated being hungover. Last time you were hungover this bad, it was the night before your college graduation and you promised yourself the next day that you would never drink that much again. Obviously, last night you decided to break that promise.

Your situation only proved worse when the alarm next to the bed went off, signaling it was 8 am. You slap your hand against the table, looking for your phone, but instead you’re met with a bedside clock, finally stopping its ear torturing sound. You barely have time to sigh in relief before you struggle to take in your surroundings. Your head was still pounding and your eyes refused to open all the way but one thing was certain.

This was not your room.

This was not your house.

You woke up in someone else’s house.

First things first, check for your clothes. With a simple glance down, your heart sinks. Gone was your Halloween costume from the last night and in its place was a T-shirt that wasn’t yours and by the looks of it on you, belong to a man, as well as a pair of shorts also not belonging to you.

“Shiiiiiit.” You whisper to yourself only seconds before a knock comes at the door. You jump in place, clutching the blanket close to your body and ignoring the urge to throw up everything you ate yesterday. The door opens much too slowly for your liking before a very, very familiar head of shaggy brown hair appears and every muscle in your body relaxes.

Jim smiles sheepishly when he sees you in his bed. Your hair was a mess and you were wearing one of his old shirts from college. There was a ghost of your smile when you realize it was just Jim coming in that made him smile wide himself.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” He chuckles, handing you a glass of water and an aspirin. You don’t say anything as you take the pill and glass from him, gulping it down as fast as you can. “How do you feel?”

“I can taste colors.” You grumble, putting the glass next to Jim’s alarm clock. Jim laughs. He was unsure what exactly to say, although you were in the same position. You glance around the room, silently taking it all in and waiting for the pounding right behind your eyes to stop. “It’s Saturday, why is your alarm going off?” You finally say, meeting Jim’s eyes with a squint.

Jim’s brows raise comically as he nods. “I like to wake up at the same time.” He shrugs.

You shake your head. “You’re supposed to sleep in on the weekends.” Jim exhales a quietier laugh and you watch him rock on his heels, unable to look you in the eye anymore. You clear your throat, clutching the blanket a little tighter. “Uh, Jim?” He hums, leaning on the wall behind him. “Last night, did we… um…” you weren’t really sure you wanted to finish that sentence, but luckily you didn’t have to. Jim was quick to shake his head and you let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god.” He quirks a brow and your eyes widen. “I didn’t mean like… just that, you know, I was drunk and you were drunk… and we’re coworkers… and friends?”

“It’s alright.” Jim’s posture relaxes and you feel your cheeks heat up a little at the prospect.

“Not that it would be a bad thing.” You quickly say before you can stop yourself, hating the fact your hangover hadn’t stopped you or said something less painfully stupid.

“I know.” You nod your head at Jim’s words, leaning back on his pillow and closing your eyes. Then it struck you; it wasn’t the words Jim said, but how he said them. It was almost like he knew what exactly you were talking about. Almost like he could read your mind, Jim chuckles. “You really don’t remember much of the party last night, do you?”

You shake your head, your breath stuck in your throat. “Was it bad?”

Jim tilts his head, thinking about yesterday before a smile crosses his face.

---

Last Night…

Jim walks into the office 15 minutes after the office’s costume party was supposed to start. He will never understand why Michael decided on a costume party at the beginning of April, but here he was. There was bad music playing from the office that Jim could hear the moment he stepped out of the elevator, widening his eyes momentarily before adjusting the taped black circles on his torso and pulling the door open.

“Jimbo!” Michael calls out before the door even closed behind Jim. Jim breathes out a laugh, putting his hands in his pockets. “Welcome to the party!”

“Hey Mike.” Michael throws his arm over Jim’s shoulders, struggling a bit with the height of his employee.

Michael leads Jim throughout the office, where he sees his coworkers in all in different costumes with drinks in their hands. Michael finally lets Jim go with a pat and push on the shoulder as Jim snags a drink on his way out of the conference room. He runs into Kelly and Ryan, Kelly sporting a costume that Jim didn’t realize was supposed to be Taylor Swift, and Ryan as a police officer. He was just about to answer Kelly’s question of how he was doing before he spots you, Phyllis, and Pam talking in the kitchen. He smiles to himself before heading your way, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye.

Pam catches your smile growing at the sight of Jim as she nudges your arm. “Will you just tell him you like him already.” She whispers to you despite the glass door separating the two of you. You smack her arm gently, sipping from the red cup in your hand.

“No.”

“Come on, Y/N! Tonight’s the night!” Pam keeps pushing, raising her brows at you multiple times.

Your mouth drops open from her antics. “Pamela Beasley, how drunk are you?” She rolls her eyes at you. “Phyllis, can you tell Pam to lay off?”

“Oh no, Y/N. I’m on her side. I mean, if I never made the first move on Bob, we wouldn’t be married.” She says before grabbing an extra drink and leaving you and Pam, heading towards the Annex where she knows her husband currently is waiting for her.

You tilt your head in defeat, unsure what you expected from seeking Phyllis’ help.

“Tell him.” Pam says seconds before Jim opens the door. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but take another large sip of your drink, knowing if you were going to have any chance of telling Jim you’re desperately in love with him, alcohol would be your best friend.

Pam not-so-sneakily steps away from you as Jim comes in front of you, matching your smile. You look him up and down before adjusting the black dot on Jim’s chest that had started to fall down. “Three-hole punch Jim? Bringing back a classic?”

“Oh absolutely, I put a lot of work in this costume,” Jim hides his smile behind his cup as he takes a drink. He looks you up and down as well, only he takes a bit longer as his brows draw together. “And you are…?”

You chuckle, looking down at the white shirt and pants and black shawl you were wearing. “I’m a penguin.”

A cute penguin, Jim says to himself and before he has the chance to compliment your costume in a way less exposing of his feelings, Michael comes tripping into the kitchen, holding a drink in his hand.

“Jiiiiim! Y/NNNNN!” He says, pointing at the two of you. You and Jim stare at him, neither of you saying anything as Michael pants heavily, his face red from the no doubt numerous drinks he’s already had. He just smiles, looking between you both before he turns around to leave and you can faintly hear the sound of him calling out Ryan’s name as the door closes.

Jim and you fall into a fit of laughter, unsure what exactly to do about your drunk boss. “Why did he get so much alcohol?” Jim asks, shaking his head.

You shrug and finish off the last bit in your cup. “I have no idea, but I am certainly not complaining.” You step to the right of Jim, filling up your cup with the bottles Michael put in the kitchen earlier. “Can we even have this much in the office?” You ask and take a long sip.

Jim watches you carefully as you toss your head back, effectively finishing off the drink you just poured before he gulped. “I uh… I don’t know.” He quiets for a second as you fill up your cup again. “Sure you don’t want to slow down there?” He chuckles, although he is a bit worried for you.

You shake your head and smile. “Nope.” You pop the ‘p’. “It’s a party, Jim. And I’m gonna enjoy it.” You stick your cup in the air and Jim cheers against your cup, both of you taking a sip and your eyes widen after yours, starting to feel a bit of a buzz.

“Alright, but I’m not helping with you if you’re hungover tomorrow.” He says as the two of you walk out of the kitchen, joining the rest of the party in the conference room.

---

“That doesn’t sound too bad, I remember most of that and even what Pam, Phyllis and I were talking about.” You can’t imagine the story of last night will remain as boring as those first 15 minutes Jim had described. As long as you didn’t drink that much more after those three drinks.

“What were you guys talking about?”

Uh.

“Nothing?”

Jim chuckles, moving to finally sit down on the bed next to you, causing you to scootch over as he sits on top of the blankets, giving you all the space that you need in your hungover bliss.

“I take it forgot about your ‘bracelets’, then?” Jim smirks, unable to meet your eyes. Your stomach falls greatly, a small vague memory coming back to you as Jim continues his story.

---

Jim loses sight of you for a bit as he is pulled into a drinking game with Kevin and Meredith, narrowly beating Kevin but loosing to Meredith in a landslide. He glances around the conference room and into the bullpen but he doesn’t see you. Most of his coworkers were drunk, but he sees Angela in the corner, sipping on a lemonade in a black cat costume.

“Angela.” He calls out, making her sigh. “You’re not drinking?”

“I don’t drink at work.” She says, despite the fact she’s not currently working. Jim nods, taking another look around from the new spot in the room. “Besides, someone has to make sure no one does something stupid like drive.” Jim nods again, glad despite Angela’s resistance to the party, she is watching her coworkers. Angela stops watching her coworkers actions with disgust and looks up with Jim before sighing even louder. “She’s in the annex.”

Jim’s head snaps her way so fast that he almost spills his drink. “What?”

“Y/N. She’s in the annex with Ryan.” Jim knows he’s blushing at how obvious he was searching for you, but thanks her nonetheless. “Whatever.” She says and walks away to another corner, continuing to sip on her lemonade.

When Jim realizes Angela said you were alone with Ryan, he was quick to make his way out of the bullpen, hearing your laugh before he was even in the annex. When he does walk in, he’s greeted with you and Ryan a bit too close for his liking. “What’s going on?” He calls out and Ryan jumps back, one of his hands coming up to scratch the back of his neck and the other picking up his cup of beer on the table.

“Hey man,” Ryan says before downing his drink. Jim gives him a look of distrust before focusing on you.

“Jim!” Your eyes light up as you turn around to see who was there and right away Jim knows you’ve had quite a few more drinks or shots in his absence. The second thing he notices is the metal circling around your right wrist. You hold up the wrist to show him with a smile. “Do you like my bracelet?” the loose cuff almost smacks you in the face but you don’t react. Your smile, however, does fall the moment you get a good look at the costume piece. “Oh, wait…” you say to yourself. “They’re handcuffs.” You stare at the piece for a moment before smiling again. “I took them from the police.”

“You took them from the police?” Jim finally manages to say, wanting to make sure he doesn’t have to murder Ryan.

“She did.” Ryan is quick to nod. Jim still isn’t quick sure he believe him but once he’s focused on you again, you’ve got the bracelet off your wrist and chucking it at the temps head. Jim has to hold back a laugh as it knocks the hat off Ryan’s head, and smacks him in the face.

---

You’re quiet, burrowing your face in Jim’s pillow in embarrassment. “Oh my god.” You finally say.

Jim clears his throat. “You don’t uh, happen to remember exactly what was happening there, did you?”

Much to his relief you nod and say, “Yeah, I took his cuffs because I wanted to prove I could do a magic trick.”

“Can you do magic tricks?”

“I’ve never done a magic trick in my life.” You shake your head and pull the pillow away just in time for Jim and you to both start laughing again, although your embarrassment was reaching new levels of insane. “Please tell me that was all I did and I went home right after that.” Jim stays silent, but he looks right into your eyes, causing your heart to skip and your stomach to flip. “Please tell me I didn’t embarrass myself more.”

---

“Okay, I am taking you home.” Jim says and takes you by the hand, gently leading you out of the annex and through the kitchen. By the time you both enter the bullpen, Jim hears you gasp and he stops instinctively, thinking you might be hurt or sick or something.

You were staring at your intertwined hands with your mouth agape. Jim lets go of your hand slowly, but your expression doesn’t change. Instead, you make a sound that Jim can only describe as a squeal. The rest of the party around you falls quiet, all looking towards you and Jim.

Jim looks at them all and by the time he looks back at you, you were several feet shorter as you were on one knee.

---

“There is no way that happened.” You interrupt Jim, shaking your head once again and gripping the pillow tight.

Jim can only laugh hard, clutching his stomach from under the blanket, where he had moved during the course of the story. “You got on one knee.”

“There’s no way.”

“You asked me to marry you.”

“I asked you to marry me?” You are beyond embarrassed at this point. You are flustered and irritated and you want to go back in time to when you thought you could drink whatever you wanted at an office party. You went from simply embarrassing yourself to possibly outing your stupid little crush on your coworker. You want to leave, you want to hope this was all a dream and you were going to wake up in your own bed, but you have to know one thing first. “…Was there more?”

Jim is quiet for only a minute and you know instantly that last night wasn’t over yet.

---

“Marry me.” Your words were a bit slurred and quiet, but Jim definitely heard them and most likely your entire office did as well.

His heart is racing and his head is pounding and he doesn’t know exactly what to do, but before he can think, his drunk brain was already pulling you off the floor. “What’s that, Y/N? You want me to get you home? Now? Well, if you say so!” Before any of his coworkers could say anything, Jim is leading you out the front door of the office and calling for a cab on the way down the elevator.

You are leaning against him the entire way down and he can’t resist enjoying the feeling of you practically hugging him as he wraps his arms around you, keeping you together as you wait patiently for the taxi.

When it’s finally here, you are practically asleep in Jim’s arms, mumbling something about not drinking so much next time and for the first time all night, Jim thinks you might actually be okay. That is until you start crying in the taxi over the ending of some movie you had watched the day prior that Jim really can’t understand the name of. The taxi pulls up to Jim’s apartment and he struggles to get you through the door and up the stairs, cursing the elevator for being broken.

You’re finally in Jim’s bed and Jim lets out a sigh of relief, happy that you were safe and taken care of. He drapes your shawl over his desk chair and takes one last look at you before he starts to turn off the light. Just as the light turns off, a loud thud comes from the other side of the room and he flips the switch back on to see you face down on the floor.

He frowns before gently helping you up and making sure you’re okay once more. He was about to get you back in bed before you were suddenly more alert, scaring him a bit.

“I’m hot!” you yell out and he jumps back, colliding his back against the wall from being startled. He isn’t sure how exactly to help you before you pull your shirt over your head, quickly leaving you in your bra and giving Jim no time to divert his eyes. Just as you did with your shirt, your pants were on the floor and Jim is standing in front of you, looking up at the ceiling and covering his eyes with his hands.

“And now you’re naked.” Jim mutters mostly to himself because he can’t believe that you’re here, in his room, standing in front of him, in only your bra and matching underwear which he only got a glimpse of before coming to his senses and covering his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do next. He knows you’re not going to put your clothes back on and he doesn’t really want to remove his hand and help you and violate your privacy in the process. There’s only one thing he thinks of that might just work.

Blindly, Jim heads over to his dresser, finally removing his hand to search through his clothes. “Here,” he says, turning blindly once more. “You can wear these.” He holds the t-shirt and shorts out to you and his arm remains out stretched for a bit before you slowly take the clothes from him. When the sound of you changing stops, Jim lowers his hand.

The shirt was baggy on you and the shorts were a bit longer than shorts should have been, but Jim thought you looked great in them because they were his. You were wearing his clothes.

He must have been staring for a bit too long because you reach up and gently poke his cheek, breaking the moment between you both. Jim is hopeful in your state that you don’t realize how red his cheeks were when you poked them. “Alright, lets get you to bed.” You nod, finally working with Jim to get you under his covers and snuggled in his pillows. He has to stop himself from reacting the way he did with his clothes once again. When your breathing slowed down, Jim finally steps away, and just like earlier, he turns off the light, thanking everything possible that there was no thud this time.

He was just about to close the door before hearing you say, “I want your babies, Jim” and he freezes in his tracks.

---

For the first time all morning, you don’t say anything when Jim stops talking, you can only sit there with your head buried in the pillow, silently praying that the bed would simply open up and take you whole. Jim has no idea what is running through your head at the moment, he can only assume a whole lot of embarrassment, but if he was truthful, he isn’t sure you really needed to be embarrassed. He actually enjoyed taking care of you last night. And he has definitely been enjoying this morning as well.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Jim tries to reassure you but you can only groan into the pillow, a sound that Jim thinks slowly is turning into a laugh.

“I am never drinking again.” You say to him.

“I promise, it wasn’t that bad.” Jim pulls the pillow from your face, unable to hold back the smile on his lips when he sees you.

You sigh, staring into his comforting eyes before rolling your eyes. “Yeah, says you. You’re not the one who completely embarrassed herself in front of her coworkers and her cru- and her friend.” Just like that, you’ve embarrassed yourself even further. Hopefully, Jim didn’t catch onto the slip of your tongue, but you know you don’t have good enough luck for that. The two of you are quiet for a moment. You’ve refused to look at Jim since your slip up, settling for keeping your eyes closed, which is honestly helping with your hangover headache, and Jim just looking at you. “It least there are no photos on Facebook of me doing the robot this time.” You joke, hoping to help the situation a bit better.

All your comment does is elicit a “What?” from Jim, followed by chuckles as he promises himself to find those photos later.

The two of you were quiet once again, sitting in comfort as you think over the events of last night. You can hear your heartbeat echoing in your ears and your headache is a second thought to the fact that Jim and you were in his bed together and just talking. In all your years of pining after your coworker, you’ve never in this position before, so close together, your bodies were only separated by the fear of wanting more.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper to Jim and his smile softens his face.

“I always will.” He assures you and your lips tug upwards. “Besides, like you said last night, you need me.”

Your lips instantly tug downwards. “No, I didn’t.” You would’ve remembered that part of the story.

Jim can only laugh, scootching closer to you in the bed on accident with the action. “I didn’t tell you about the cab ride?”

“That I was crying over a movie?”

“And?”

“… and that I said that I need you?”

“And?

“And? What else did I say?”

“Besides that you need me?”

“Never said that.”

Jim smirks. He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t say that you rambled off almost a hundred reasons why you were in love in him.

He doesn’t say that it took everything in him to just say you were drunk and didn’t mean any of it.

He doesn’t say that despite feeling drunk himself, he sobered up real fast when he heard those three simple words tumble out of your mouth the first time. And the second time. And the third, fourth, fifth, even what seemed like the 99th time. He just wishes he could hear them again, when the words were said by a sober you.

“Come on, tell me!” You interrupt his thoughts, pushing on his shoulder gently. “What did I say? It can’t be worse than anything else I said to you last night, and I still blame it entirely on the alcohol.” Your hand lingers on his arm, slowly falling closer to the bed where his own hand was laying. Jim can’t look anywhere but your face, but your eyes were studying the way his fingers were slowly covering across your own, something Jim wasn’t even aware he was doing. “Jim?”

He clear his throat, breaking out of the moment between the two of you, but he doesn’t release the hold on your hand, instead he shifts his hand so your fingers intertwine together. “Nothing.” Jim lies, hating the whisper in his voice.

You don’t believe him, but the way he’s looking at you makes you not question him further. Maybe you didn’t need to know everything about last night. Maybe it was all worth it to lead you and Jim to this moment, the two of you growing closer and closer in his bed until his arm is wrapping around your waist and Jim and your breathing has slowed to a sleeping rhythm.

Maybe this time it was better that you didn’t wake up in the morning and be in your own house.

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I am slowly moving out of using taglists because it is very tedious and I don't like them, so if you would like to know when I post new fics (if I post new fics) try to follow the account @updates-from-elle if you can, it might not work because I haven’t tried it or played with the settings and everything, so stay tuned!