#funny doodles all around the picture

[sabletdragon]

This is me btw :3 if you even care... ↓

WOO finally a new reference sheet for me/Sable, all detailed n proportioned

Look a winged version ↓

Some extra details:

• Retractable claws that are 2 inches in length, they are very strong and can climb trees with them

• There's an organ called a flame pouch that's under the chin, it inflates- similar to a frog- with flammable gas. The gas is "exhaled" to blast fire

• The red pupils can change it's brightness, from soulless dark to glowing red. The brightness glows either because of flame use or intense emotion. The pupils dim if there's lack of emotion or extreme focus (on prey). The pupil brightness can also be changed manually.

• That skull was never there ever since birth.

• There's also the ability to manipulate their own shadow, which is the only ability from it's/my shadow/night dragon side

• Speaking of abilities, they are/I am fireproof. The fur coat and scales can't catch fire, extreme temperatures like lava is the exception.

The reason why the age is classified is because that is my age and it's personal info to me.

[humming-fly]

Who better to trust with a secret than a known liar?

anyways my apologies to b99 and happy countdown to the magolor bullying simulator release later this month! 

[storfulsten]

The way you draw bf is so cute and i love it, can i give him a lil kiss on the forehead

aw thanks, I'm glad you like the way I doodle him and such ha

as for the lil kiss on the forehead...

don't think whitty'd like that very much sorry lol

[dalvs-wife]

i have thoughts about dalv's parents if you even care............

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[russellsppttemplates]

Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹

And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!

Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?

Note: you and me both, anon!

"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.

"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.

"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.

"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.

"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.

.

"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.

"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.

"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.

.

"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.

"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.

"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.

After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.

"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.

Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰

Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!

Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!

Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!

Adam: look at our little girl 😍

"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.

"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[flwrkisses]

boyfriend! ni-ki.

HAPPY (late) RIKI DAAAAY!! wishing the happiest and sweetest birthday to our lovely riki. celebrating by writing all my lovely ni-ki stans a little headcannon. enjoy!

genre: fluff. established relationship. idol! x reader. headcannon.

warning: some mentions of arguments and skin ship like kissing and cuddling.

❀˖° heeseung jay jake sunghoon sunoo jungwon ni-ki ..

- you and riki had been introduced to eachother by mutual friends. he for some reason found himself always wanting to impress you each time he saw you. thats how he found out he liked you.

- the weird feeling he would get in his chest when he saw you was actually just the butterflies. even if he didn't want to admit it. so, one day after talking to jake for a really long time about his feelings he finally got the confidence to tell you how he felt.

- he honestly was ready for rejection so when you told him you were also interested in him, took him off guard. he probably would need a moment to register what exactly to do next. but from that day on you guys just assumed you were dating without any proper question. you both admitted feelings for each other.. so you guys just assumed thats how relationships start.

- the first date would probably be to a movie in the park or maybe a shopping run that turned into a cafe and boba date on accident.

- riki is usually very private about his relationships.. however, if someone gets on his nerves he plays the "at least im actually dating someone!" card to rub in their face that he managed to find someone who loves and cares about him.

- he's a mean boyfriend, meaning that he will tease you, poke fun at you and play pranks on you because thats how he shows his love. however, you must retaliate in return if not its not fun.

- sometimes when you're walking down the street while holding hands he purposefully trips you and chuckles when you stumble only for you to try and trip him back. this usually leads to you guys almost tackling eachother in the middle of the sidewalk.

- he also finds it funny when he holds his hand out against your head to stop you from getting closer to him. he's tall and has long arms so he thinks its funny but after a while he gives in and pulls you close.

- you know he loves to mess around and tease you however, no matter how much he playfully bullies you he's actually very protective of you. lots of his jokes come from a place of love. however, if someone else were to make fun of you the way he did he couldn't find it funny at all.

- despite how playful he is. he would die for your touch. he loves melting into your arms and holding you. believe it or not he's a lot clinger than you'd imagine.

- in private he's putty in your hands but around his hyungs or anyone else he tries to play it cool.

- he draws you things on any serface if you give him enough time and a writing utensil. they're usually cute drawings of a couple that he says are the two of you. he leaves these little doodles on your shopping lists, notebooks, sticky notes, white boards.

- when you visit him while he's at practice he gets so excited because he loves seeing you when he's in his element. he shows off just for you and asks you if you thought he looked cool while dancing.

- riki finds your height difference to be extremely cute. he loves pointing out how short you are compared to him. he loves feeling tall around you. please ask him to get things off the top shelf.

- he's going to ask to borrow your hair tie, and never give it back so he can wear it around his wrist or keep it on his nightstand as evidence he's with someone.

- something you noticed is that he'd "accidentally" leave his shirts or hoodies at your place in hopes that you'd wear it. and when you do he melts a little inside.

- when shopping he usually likes to take you with him so you can tell him what you think about clothes. he wont buy something you don't like. if you're not with him expect pictures of clothes on him or facetime calls for your opinion.

- riki loves hearing your voice so even when he's sleepy from a long day working, he'll call you just to hear you talk about your day. his deep raspy voice usually just humming along to your words to let you know he's listening.

- most times he ends up falling asleep with you on call, regardless of if it's a video chat or regular phone call. he feels comfortable enough to do that with you so it's sweet. plus he works so hard you can't possibly be upset.

- he gets a lot if his dating and relationship advice from jake because in his eyes he thinks he's the most romantic. so most big romantic gestures from riki is usually something jake told him to do for you.

- pda is a big no for him, maybe simple hand holding or a quick hug would be okay. but he gets way too shy to actually kiss you or be overly touchy with you in public.

-but, he does like to see you wearing his clothes or matching shoes with him. its a little cheesy but he can't get enough of it. it's a little nod that you belong to each other.

- on his phone your contact would be something like "my loser." or "nerd." something not too romantic incase someone takes his phone and makes fun of him for having such a lovey dovey name for you.

- his home screen is a picture of you though. you're not looking at the camera and it's kinda blurry but he knows it's you and he loves looking at the candid pictures he's taken of you. loves it so much that it makes one of them his hime screen.

- riki loves thrill especially thrill rides so even if you don't like them he would drag you to ride rollercoasters or fast rides with him.

- he does love to kiss you though. after the first kiss he was addicted and is always looking forward the next kiss. however he would die inside if anyone every caught you both kissing.

- arguments are something unavoidable. especially when riki can be a little bit of a hot-head about things and prideful. he kinda sucks at apologizing or talking things out so space from each other usually helps you both cool down.

- after a couple days you both realize how much you miss each other and end up forgetting why you were upset with each other in the first place.

- a fault in him is saying yes to anything you want to do or ask for. sometimes he doesn't realize what exactly he's agreeing to. this has gotten him into a lot of very interesting situations with you. like ending up in the salon next to you getting his nails and toes done, or taste testing weird herbal teas, or even getting his hair dyed to slightly match yours.

- after a long day, you both just melt into the sofa and scroll on your phones for hours. just watching tiktoks or something similar. occasionally reaching over to show each other something funny.

- if you're not doing your weekly tiktok scroll with him on the sofa, you're probably cuddling and watching an anime. you guys take turns picking which one to watch. its also a nice way to spend time together since he loves to order food and make a date night out of it.

- when going out with you to a place where theres music and dancing involved. regardless on if you can or can't dance he would pull you to dance floor to dance with him. a big smile on his face as he watches you move and enjoy yourself.

- he is so supportive of you no matter what. he would promote your projects you choose to do regardless of what it is. he always has your back, and encourages you to do what you love.

- just expect impromptu dance parties while listening to music. you guys could be chilling and having music in the background when he pulls you up and just playfully dances with you.

- when watching a romance movie and they do something cool, like kiss under stars, or set up a romantic camp site, or something of that nature he can't help but look at you and say "lets do that."

- he would never tell you, but praise goes such a long way with him. he wants to hear that he's doing well and that you're proud of him. so when you vocalize it he loves it.

- in the beginning of the relationship he says things like. "saying 'i love you' is so cheesy." only to be the one who says it over and over later in your relationship. when you wake up, when you part ways for the day, when you go to bed. all the time.

- riki would also have a polaroid of you on the back of his clear phone case because he thinks it's cute. and regardless of how old the photo is he wont change it.

- overall, riki's a sweet but, mischievous type boyfriend. he lives and breathes for you and wont let you forget it with how much he playfully annoys you. there is nothing he wont do to make you happy or to hear your laugh that he loves so much.

©flwrkisses ; please do not copy, translate, repost and/or reuse my work without my permission. (2023)

masterlist. — requests are open!

[gi4hao]

☆ dino x gn!reader — domestic fluff!

☆ from repairing a sink to love confessions on the kitchen floor

9pm is right around the corner, and you know for a fact that your boyfriend is far from being done with repairing the leak under your kitchen sink. but of course he won’t accept defeat, which is why you resorted to having dinner on the floor, sat next to him to keep him company.

“you really should go lie down on the couch” chan tells you from beneath the sink, his voice muffled and punctuated by the clinks of his tools. “this isn’t good for your back.”

he’s not wrong, this position is definitely not the comfiest even though you managed to rest against a piece of furniture. but the view isn’t so bad here, you think to yourself, contently watching his arms flex as he twists and tightens metal pieces here and there.

“but if i leave who’s going to feed you those baby tomatoes?” you ask, looking at the half-eaten bowl in front of you.

putting his tools down, he emerges from under the sink with a contented sigh, stretching his limbs as he sits upright. “you’re such a simp” he chuckles, yet still gladly opens his mouth for you to throw yet another tomato inside.

with an exaggerated scoff, you put a hand over your heart in mock offense: “excuse me? says the biggest simp ever?”

the thing is, you don’t even mind being called a simp; you’re lucid enough to know that it’s only the truth. similarly, chan doesn’t mind it either, but it’s just so much more entertaining to deny and act like it offends him.

“if there’s a simp in this room it’s definitely you. and allow me to tell you why…” you tell him as he returns to the small confined space below your countertop.

you don’t even have to make an effort to gather your thoughts, countless examples just flow naturally into your brain: “first of all, you always carry me on your back when we’re walking back home from a party. you kiss me goodbye every morning even when i’m still asleep. you have a picture of me in your wallet, i’m your phone and ipad wallpaper. also, you keep a secret box on your side of the closet where you put all the receipts from our dates…”

a few seconds of silence follow your words.

when you lean to your side to finally catch a glimpse of your quiet boyfriend, it turns out he’s looking right back at you, a surprised expression painted on his face: “i didn’t know you knew about the box.”

suddenly, he gets the funny sensation that you’re definitely going to win this round.

“i know many things” you affirm, a satisfied smile on your lips as you keep going: “i know that you always keep one of my doodles in your phone case. i know that you bought duplicates of my skincare products to keep in your car as an emergency kit. and i also may or may not have heard you talk to seungkwan about me…”

this time, it’s a loud bang that comes to punctuate your sentence. but before you can even start to worry, chan yells a reassuring “i’m okay!” before getting out of there once again, “just dropped my tool, that’s all. but now let’s circle back to what you just said…”

with a chuckle, you notice a slight embarrassment spreading on his face, his cheeks turning a familiar shade of pink.

your relationship has never been a secret, so it wasn’t a surprise to know that he likely spoke about you to the other members. however, you hadn’t truly considered the nature of those conversations until a few months ago, when you had sort of eavesdropped on a discussion.

“don’t be embarrassed” you reassure him, a playful spark in your eyes: “it was nice to hear you describe us as a “perfect match” and feeling like “a married couple already, but in the best possible way”.

at this point, his surrender is palpable. “okay, you win. maybe i am a simp,” he concedes, a mixture of defeat and self-consciousness coloring his voice. his shoulders sag slightly, but his gaze is still full of affection. “i can’t deny it anymore. just like i can’t deny that I’m not a handyman. i actually have no idea if I’m fixing this thing or just making it worse.”

“i think it’s time to leave the plumbing to the experts,” you tease, taking the screwdriver out of his hands, “let’s bail on this floor and go cuddle on the couch; i’ll order some proper food.”

with just those words, he flashes you a bright smile, one that you know so well you could sketch it from memory. as he rises to his feet, he looks at you earnestly: “i meant what i said to seungkwan, you know,” he confesses, his voice softer than usual.

you take a brief moment to let his words and his sincerity sink in: “i know, baby,” you reply, your own voice matching his softness as you grab his hand to get up. “and that’s exactly how i feel too.”

his smile grows even bigger, relieved to see that you not only understand the depth of his love for you, but reflect it back to him as well. it’s all he’s ever hoped for, really — to find someone he could trust implicitly, someone he could pour all his love into, knowing it would be returned with the same intensity.

“we really are made for each other,” he states, giving you a proud nod as he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist.

“yeah, look at us. in love, both clueless about fixing that sink. perfect match.”

with a heartfelt laugh, chan gently rests his hand on your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss; the kind that lingers for a few more seconds than what you expected. just enough time for the both of you to think about how lucky you are to have found each other in this lifetime.

requests are open!

[citricacidprince]

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer, plucking out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König of the Icks (the rage post)

This is the post where I actually got mad at König. I can't stand people like this, but I also love them. If nothing else, life's always interesting when they're around, right?

Art from This Post

König rarely laughs. When he does laugh, it's usually quiet, subtle. If you didn't know he was laughing, you'd probably think he was crying because he just shakes his shoulders and makes soft chuffing noises

It's a bit eerie

However, when König loses control of his laughter, he sounds like a whole damn pigsty

He's snorting, squealing and honking as he tilts his head back with laughter. He laughs so hard he cries

This would be cute if it weren't almost always at the expense of somebody else.

Horangi had the misfortune of hearing it when König tipped all his belongings upside down and then taped and/or glued them to the ceiling. This included Horangi's bed and sheets.

Hutch nearly threw out a computer mouse until he found a piece of tape covering the bottom.

Roze swears she heard König laughing when she found her entire locker filled to the brim with tiny rubber ducks

The rubber ducks became a huge problem with soldiers trading them like contraband and hiding them in weird places around the base

This concluded with snipers using them for firing practise and laughing when they squealed when they were shot, making it to easy to find their hiding spots

Unfortunately for Stilleto, she heard König's laugh when she walked through a line of tape over a door and got it tangled in her hair. She figured out which recruits did it and had them running laps. When they were done, one of them admitted it was Cnl. Leichenberg who set them up and she was furious

See, König loves to set other people up to do his dirty work

He'll gladly set up soldiers to piss other people off so he can watch the fireworks fly

He'll purposefully hold off on doling out a punishment if he thinks it'll be funny to watch shit go south first

He's well known on base as a through and through sadist who relishes in schadenfreude

Hell, he's the one to teach everyone what that word meant

He's the literal dictionary definition of the word

Now, the problem is that König isn't just a kinky sadist (he is, but that's a different post)

König loves to torment anyone he loves. And of course, that includes you

König won't put things on the top shelf, he'll put them on top of the cabinet so you'll have to ask for his help because not even the stool will help you reach that high

He'll doodle over any picture you have of him to 'hide his identity'

He just likes messing with you

He torments his children with wicked pranks and gaslights them terribly

When his toddler offers him a bite of their animal cracker he eats the whole thing and laughs at them

He will absolutely label three objects 1, 2, and 4 so you'll go searching for #3

He will sit on you when he gets mad at you, or when you get mad at him because, well, this is the two of you (and he will do this to you and laugh):

His worst sin was childproofing the house without your knowledge. Ever had a fully childproofed house? If you're not the one installing it, it's an ugly thing to find

He will shift furniture just a little bit to the right or left to screw with you if you finish off his breakfast meals and don't replace them immediately

König takes delight in leaving you cryptid notes (you've learned to ignore the ominous threats because they always turn out to be something completely innocuous)

König is a nightmare of a man to live with. Is it fun? Sure! Is he a menace? Absolutely. He's got a penchant for mischief, and he's used to getting away with it because he's either got the reputation of a battle-hardened colonel that demands respect when he steps into a room, or the soft-spoken gentleman that would never raise his voice against a civilian. This just means he has the perfect fallback for whenever somebody accuses him of being a miscreant. In truth, he's most likely behind it, but the true extent of how many thing's he's behind is terrifying. This man fucks with people as a hobby.

Konig Dump

Konig Headcanons

[koolades-world]

Hey there! I'd Like to request something. So like, MC is an Artist (Style doesn't matter they just have to draw humanoid things) and then they draw the brothers+dateables in their style, what would the reaction be?

hello! sure thing :)

I myself am admittedly not a very good artist, which is my my preferred art form is writing. the only time I draw is usually during gartic phone games with friends, and thanks to my franticness under a time limit it's always very chaotic. but at this point I've just embraced it and it's always funny

enjoy!

Artist Mc

Lucifer

you draw him while he's seated at the dinner table on a saturday morning while he's reading the newspaper and enjoying a coffee

not that you didn't intend to show him, but suddenly he was leaning over your shoulder, staring, and it caught you off guard

as you scramble to explain, he just smiles and sits back down in his chair and goes back to what he was doing to keep being you model

once you're done, he asks if he can at least have a copy to keep, which in itself is a huge compliment, but it's so he can think of you every time he looks at it 🥺

Mammon

during class, he happened to look super cute as always while looking wistfully out a nearby window a few rows in front of you and the lesson was getting boring anyways. next to your notes, you begin to doodle him, using highlighters for color

you forget it's there and lend him that very notebook since he had tuned out that same lesson

once he opens it, he seems himself and doesn't know how to react. he's a babbling, red mess

once he regains motor functions, he shakily declares that it's very becoming of the Great Mammon and that you did a great job. success!

Levi

the two of you are hanging out in his room. he's playing a ruri game and you're lounging behind him, sketching on a bean bag

you're not drawing anything in particular and were searching for an idea when suddenly, the idea found you

levi wasn't paying attention to you, so you could easily look at him and ruri, and sketch them side by side in matching outfits

once he stops for a moment to get a snack, you happily show him the drawing and he does the demon equivalent of blue screening. give him a minute to reboot then try again haha

Satan

when you decided to draw him, the two of you were seating together, with you in his lap while he read a book so he saw the drawing from it's first line to it's last

made positive comments about it the entire time, like about how you captured the green of his eyes perfectly, or telling you his hair looked better in the picture than it did in real life

at some point, he stopped pretending to read the book and sat watching you with his chin on your shoulder

he added cute little notes around it once you were done with little hearts around them

Asmo

he's asked you to draw him jokingly a few times, but never expected you to actually do it the next time he asked

when you tell him if he wants, he can pick something else to wear, he almost strips down so you can draw him nude but you stop him as soon as he started to take his shirt off

he scurried away and was back quickly in a new outfit, and posed how he would for a picture

talks to you basically the entire time you draw, and once you're done, he squeezes you into a tight hug and asks if he can post it on his Devilgram

Beel

after joining him enough times for Fangol practice, you knew it well enough to begin making sketches of him as he practiced

drawing him in action was a little challenging since he never held still, but you were determined

you drew a few since his practice went on longer that day, and got to proudly show him the results

he was equally as proud of you since he thought you did a great job. he asks if he can have one, and if you give it to him, you'll find it hanging up next to his bed next to all his Fangol trophies <3

Belphie

he's an easy model to draw thanks to his lethargy, so you often find yourself sketching him

something about his peaceful nature and natural frosted tips was just so drawable, so you had at least a few pages full of him napping in various positions with different blankets

one time, he wakes up while you're next to him drawing, and is a little shocked in a good way. he didn't know you viewed him that highly

he's still half asleep, so he just compliments your artwork and moves to lay his head on your lap, then falls back asleep, ensuring you're the flustered one now

[onepiecestarry]

BNHA/MHA Fluff HC

Fluff headcanons:

In order: Bakugo, Denki, Jiro, Kirishima, Mindoriya, Mina, Momo, Ochaco, Sero, Shoji, Todoroki, Tokoyami, Tsu

Bakugo: 

Bakugo would love to torture you with horror movies because it was funny to see your reactions, but mostly because he loved you jumping into his arms at the sight of something scary. He would gently wrap his arm around you while you hid under the blanket, of course while laughing at you. 

He is fiercely defensive of you, even if it's hard for him to admit to other people that you both are dating. If he even hears a whisper of slander towards you, he challenges whoever said it even if they are a pro. (Making work studies extremely difficult with him)

You love to steal his shirts and sweatshirts, he claims it's annoying and you need to go to your own closet. But what he doesn’t tell you is how he loves seeing you walk around with it on. Letting everyone know you're his without having to tell them.

Denki:

Denki can be dumb, extremely dumb, but he tries his hardest for you. He would try to cook dinner for you, only for it to end up burnt and inedible. This would put both of you into a giggle fit until you eventually just order pizza. 

You and Denki are the worst combo in the dorms because all you both do is prank people or accept dares. You are the other half of his brain but unfortunately, that means you both only have half of one. 

Denki and your relationship would feel so natural that you both and everyone else would feel like you have dated for your entire lives. 

Every time you left your phone alone with him he would take hundreds of photos on your phone, and then he would charge it for you.

Jiro:

Jiro would obviously write songs for you and playfully show you them. You both would make silly wallpapers for each other's phones. (Think like the lipstick heart pictures). She would brag about you to anyone around willing to listen. 

Some nights you both would sit and make bracelets for each other while listening to music and talking. 

Jiro would let you do her makeup or draw on her whenever you wanted, she loved looking at her arm and seeing all your doodles. 

Kirishima: 

Kirishima would show you off to anyone and everyone, when you first got together everyone immediately knew because he couldn’t keep his hands off you. If it was an arm around you or holding your hand, he would constantly be touching you in some way. 

You both would play video games against each other for hours, he would let you win just to see you smile.

Every few weeks or so Kirishima’s hair would grow out so you would sit and redye it for him. Eventually, he convinced you to do a streak of red in your hair to match. Now you both have red hair, he loves seeing that streak, reminding him of how much he loves you.

Midoriya:

Midoriya and you would study together constantly, him oblivious to your moves on him. Eventually, you got fed up and just told him and he was shocked and blinked at you for a few seconds before freaking out. Shortly after his freak-out, you both started dating. 

You would mostly have study dates and sit next to each other enjoying each other's presence. 

When you got bored you would braid his hair and play with it. It would relax him so much he would often fall asleep while you did it. 

He would buy you little gifts of things that reminded him of you and leave them with little notes in your room. 

Mina: 

Mina was your best friend before you started dating, so you two were as close as can be. You both would spend your nights watching trashy shows and making fun of the characters. Or you would play card games together. Mina loves to paint your nails knowing you show them off to everyone. 

Whenever she had a show (for dance) you would make a big sign and stand right in front so she could always see you cheering her on. 

Some days you both would try to bake something and often it would end up poorly, but you both always had fun. Flour on your faces, giggling on the kitchen counter. You both understood each other more than anyone else.

Momo: 

Momo would always bring you tea at night, no matter what you both were doing. She would show up at the library with a thermos if she had to. 

You would always find new tea for her to try and gift her a little note with it. She often would pack lunches for you, with cute little animal cutouts, or heart-shaped vegetables. 

You both would read books and annotate them for each other and then switch to read the other’s. It would result in a lot of inside jokes and memories.

Ochaco: 

Ochaco would draw little doodles in class and pass them to you for you to add to them. She would buy you matching keychains for your backpacks. 

You often ended up sharing clothes since you were the same size. She loves to steal your hoodies and sweaters. 

Each morning she does your hair for the day, if it's a braid, or straightening it. She loves to play with your hair. 

She took up knitting to knit you blankets knowing you love blankets to cuddle up in. It took her a while but eventually, she started making very nice blankets for you both to snuggle in. 

Sero: 

You and Sero are total goofs around each other, never able to stop laughing at each other. 

Each night you would always end up either in his bed or yours, it wasn’t often you slept alone. You would wake up completely wrapped by him. 

He would make tiktok edits of you and then show you super excitedly to see your reaction. 

He loves when you wear lipstick because he always makes you kiss his cheek so he can walk around with a lipstick mark on his face. 

He often would give you his hoodies to wear, encouraging you to wear his clothes.

Shoji: 

He would learn how to do your hair for you, whether it's dying it or braiding, he learned it all so he could spend that time with you. 

You would love to cuddle with him since he could wrap all of his arms around you, and you would just be absorbed in his warmth. 

You often repair his shirts, since it is hard for him to find ones that fit properly, so you love to sew up any tears for him. 

Whenever he sees you’re sad he always makes your favorite food and bakes your favorite dessert. 

Honestly just total princess treatment.

Todoroki: 

Todoroki isn’t very good at showing emotions so he would show his love in other ways. He always leaves a glass of water by your bed in case you wake up thirsty. 

He studies with you before every test, and you both help each other in places you’re lacking. 

You love to take him to the mall and dress him up in different ways, he usually acts clueless but secretly loves the attention to detail you give him. 

During winter you are usually freezing, so he has you cuddle his left side so he can gently warm you up. 

One year for Christmas he didn’t know what to get you, so he bought matching sweaters and shirts for you both. You now make him wear them every week. 

Tokoyami:

Tokoyami loves to watch you draw, you usually end up throwing away your silly doodles, but he always finds them and puts them up by his desk. Whenever he misses you he just looks through all the drawings he watched you make. 

You also love to put cutesy Sanrio stickers all over him, you think it's funny seeing such a gloomy person covered in pink and glitter. 

Tokoyami enjoys being with you no matter what you both are doing. 

Tsu: 

She takes you to the local botanical garden to look at all the plants and bugs. You usually end up in the butterfly garden with her for hours. 

You both decided to start a garden together and spend a lot of your free time together caring for it. 

During the summer, you and Tsu go to the local river to swim or kayak or really do any water sports. You both love to be in the water and often go swimming together. 

During the school year, Tsu knows you always need a snack between classes so she keeps one on her to give you when you get hungry. And it somehow always ends up being your favorite.

[mrshesh]

hi! do you have any general hcs for the cod:ghosts boys?

general headcanons - call of duty: ghost's

overview: general headcanons of the call of duty: ghost's boys!

pairing: none!

genre: fluff, pure tomfoolery

a/n: hi anon! i'm thrilled i finally got a request for these boys. i love them so much, it's getting a bit unhealthy. you're truly the best for requesting them! i hope you love it!

x logan walker

He sucks at puzzles. He’s smart and tactical, but puzzles are on another level of difficulty for him. 

He likes doodling a lot. If he has a pen and a surface to draw on, he will sketch a small smiley or a caterpillar. It has become such a habit that he doesn’t even think about it when he does it. It got so bad that once, Keegan called him out on it mid-doodle, leaving Logan embarrassed for a week. 

He loves the ocean, but beaches annoy him. He hates sand. (I firmly believe his hate for them is from Hesh throwing sand in his face as children.)

He has a picture of him and Hesh as kids in his wallet. He feels calmer when he looks at it, getting into the habit of peeking at it when stressed. 

He’s an avid Deftones enjoyer. He loves Beware and Diamond Eyes. 

He likes caramel-scented things, but he doesn’t like the taste of it. 

He has some insane dirt on Elias, and, of course, Hesh knows all of it. 

For some odd reason, he’s phenomenal at parallel parking. 

x david "hesh" walker

He loves movies. He can watch any genre! Horror? Great! Action? Love. Romance? Cute! Comedy? Perfect! He loves it all. Shows, however? Nope. 

He takes pride in his nails being clipped and filed at all times. He was a nailbiter in his teens, so he cares about his nails more than he should today. 

He can’t cook to save his life. 

Eminem is his go-to artist. He loves and respects many artists, but Eminem will always be at the top of his list. He loves Stan. 

He’s respectful in general.

He’s extremely secure and confident, yet he’s still pretty nervous when he talks to girls. 

He loves long car rides. Driving around in his car while listening to his favorite songs brings out a unique joy in him. 

He, unlike Logan, loves beaches! (He wasn’t the one who got sand thrown on him, so he’s thriving.) 

He hates coriander. 

x elias "scarecrow" walker

Unlike his son, Elias is great at puzzles! He’s disappointed Logan didn’t inherit that quality. He mourns it every day. 

He loves pickles. (Same.)

He manipulated himself into liking beer many years ago. 

People call him DILF all the time. It has happened too many times to count. He finds it funny, while Hesh and Logan are horrified every time. 

He doesn’t know how to put on chapstick. He puts it between his lips and swipes it back and forth, not on his lips. 

He got so much action when he was a teenager/young adult. He tells Logan and Hesh to “live a little” so they can experience that life, too. 

He doesn’t listen to music often, but when he does, he listens to either Korn or Chris Isaak. 

He adores Riley, sometimes stealing him from Hesh without warning. 

x keegan russ

He secretly enjoys ASMR. It helps him unwind and de-stress, but not sleep, surprisingly.

He’s excellent at the game Mafia. 

He has made way too many people giggle excitedly because of his voice. He finds it amusing but disturbing at the same time. He knows it’s attractive, but that many people? He has even made Elias giggle like a schoolgirl because of his vocal folds. 

Keegan strikes me as a Slipknot fan. He finds Killpop and Vermillion to be sexy. 

He loves grocery shopping. 

He talks to himself a lot. He’s antisocial and quiet around others, but when Keegan’s alone, he keeps having full-on conversations with himself. Merrick caught him doing it once - he never brought it up again. 

He enjoys lasagna a bit too much. 

He had a motorcycle phase as a young adult. It got so bad he learned how to do a wheelie on them, but his love for them has died down in the many years he’s been alive. 

He thinks wine is gross. 

x thomas merrick

He cannot stand bananas. Everything about them makes him gag. 

He gets such a rise out of being a bitch. He’s already annoying by default but strives to be even more insufferable for the fuck of it.

He, Alex, and Keegan smoke while being sentimental together at least once a month. (It’s always with Keegan and Alex - Elias, David, and Logan get left out.) 

He listens to underground metal like Sold Soul, and he thinks it makes him superior to everyone else. (And he gatekeeps it.)

He’s immune to pretty much all physical pain except for waxing. It’s enough to make him cry. 

He loved trains as a child.

His comfort song is Toxicity by System Of A Down. 

His appetite is insane. This man can eat a horse and still be hungry by the end of it. 

His calves are huge for some reason. 

[sweet-villain]

A Heart Dared To Be Broken~ Eddie Munson

Summary : You were just a bet to Eddie.

Angst

You leaned against the plaster wall of the school hallway, fingers tracing the fading band posters. Laughter rippled from the courtyard, but the words that pierced through sent a chill racing down your spine.

“Eddie’s just doing it for the bet, man.” Mike’s voice carried over the swelling noise.

Lucas chuckled, mocking disbelief. “No way. He wouldn’t—”

“Definitely would,” Mike interrupted. “Harrington dared him. Said he couldn’t score a date with you.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting.

“What if he actually likes her?” Lucas asked, concern knitting his brow.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mike replied. “It’s all for the glory of Harrington’s stupid dare. Can you see him getting serious?”

Your heartbeat quickened as their words spun around you. They didn’t know you listened; they thought their secrets were safe.

“No way,” Lucas muttered. “She’s… different.”

“Different?” Mike scoffed. “Eddie just wants to prove he can. It’s a game.”

Footsteps approached, laughter fading as they stepped away. You stepped back, breath caught in your throat.

Betrayed. The weight of their words stung sharper than any teen drama. Eddie leaned against the nearby locker, a grin plastered on his face, unaware of the storm swirling inside you.

" Good Morning, sweetheart" Eddie greets you. In that moment, his smile felt like a slice of sunshine, warm yet blinding. You forced an uneasy grin in return.

“Hey,” you managed, adjusting your grip on the strap of your backpack.

“Ready for the big history test?”

Eddie crossed his arms, feigning a relaxed posture, but the playful glint in his eyes hinted at mischief. “You mean the one where I’m gonna ace it and you’re gonna...”

Your laugh cut him off, more strainedthan amused. His eyes sparkled with a challenge, but a tightness coiled in your stomach.

“...struggle?” he finished, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

" You're so funny" you roll your eyes into your locker looking for books. You rummaged through your locker, the metal cool against your fingers. Textbooks jostled, their spines creaking, almost mocking your growing anxiety.

“Seriously, you’re not gonna study?” Eddie nudged your shoulder, laughter dancing in eyes.

" I have more important things to do" he stopped laughing. The weight of his gaze deepened, framing your unease in the air between you. You diverted your attention to the array of books, willing your heart to steady.

" Like what? Draw in your sketchbook? " Eddie tilted his head, an eyebrow arched in mock disbelief. 

“Just trying to find my study materials,” you replied, attempting nonchalance. You could almost hear the sarcasm in your own voice. Pain bloomed in your chest while Eddie observed you, amusement flickering as you struggled to maintain composure. 

“Right, your study materials.” He leaned in closer, his presence both electric and unsettling. “You mean the scribbles or the doodles of creatures that don't exist?”

Your determination to remain casual wavered. The pictures flashed in your mind, sketches of monsters that seemed more real than ever since you first picked up the pencil. 

“Creatures can exist,” you retorted, diverting your eyes back to the locker. “You just have to look closely.”

Eddie pushed off the locker, leaning back as if he intended to take the conversation in a new direction. “Alright, Picasso.” He smirked. “So if if I slide you a piece of paper, you’ll draw my portrait?” 

“Only if you promise to stop calling me Picasso,” you shot back, crossing your arms. Your heart raced, but you felt the urge to keep the banter alive.

For a moment forgetting you are just a bet to him. “Deal,” Eddie said, chuckling as he pushed a stray curl back from his forehead. “I’ll even throw in a classic Munson smile for your masterpiece.”

Inside your mind you were plotting your revenge on him. He wasn't about to make you a fool. Not anymore. 

The bell rang, a shrill cry echoing through the corridor. Students drifted past, laughter intertwining with chatter, but the noise felt distant. Your focus narrowed on Eddie’s grin, a mask painted over a reality you could no longer ignore.

“Guess we should get to class,” you said, forcing a lightness into your voice while the weight of his betrayal pressed down on you.

You slammed your locker making Eddie jump a bit hearing the slam. Eddie blinked, clearly startled by the sudden noise. A mix of confusion and concern flashed across his face, but the usual grin still lingered at the corners of his mouth.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, backing off with raised hands as if trying to placate a wild animal. “Didn’t mean to disturb the masterpiece over here.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t just making fun of me,” you snapped back, but even you could hear the edge of humor in your voice. 

Eddie feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? I would never,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But if it makes you feel better, I could always pose like a stick figured warrior instead. Less pressure, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, edging toward a smile.

His playful banter hung in the air, an invisible thread connecting you, but the realization hardened the smile on your lips. Just a bet. Just a game. 

Eddie starts talking about his campagin last night but all you could think about is getting revenge on him. “You should’ve seen it,” Eddie continued, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Crawling through the yards, battling against the undead—Lucas got all dramatic about losing his sword, though it was just a stick he found in the woods. I swear, the guy needs a lesson in imagination,” Eddie chuckled, his animated gestures drawing you in despite your frustration. 

“Right, because sticks are the key to a successful campaign ” you replied, your voice laced with dry humor. 

Eddie threw his head back, laughter erupting from his lips. “Absolutely! You’d be surprised at the power of a well-placed stick.” He gestured grandly, illustrating the absurdity with wild swings of his arms, the laughter in his tone like a melody coaxing you to forget the turmoil churning within. 

You matched his enthusiasm with a tight smile, fighting to mask the bitterness. “If only

if only everything else were just as simple,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

Eddie’s laughter faltered, and he turned to you, genuine curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”The curiosity in his gaze pulled at any lingering threads of resentment, but you steeled yourself. "Nothing," you replied. You hated that your voice trembled, that you felt so vulnerable standing in front of him as he blinked, searching for something deeper behind your facade. 

“C’mon,” he pressed, his tone softening. “You can’t just drop a line like that and leave me hanging.” 

You took a breath, willing the flicker of unease to settle. Eddie’s concern felt like a chain wrapping tighter around you, holding you in place. 

“What do you want me to say?” Your voice barely held up in the chaos. 

Eddie studied you, his brow furrowing, genuine concern brewing behind his playful exterior. “Just be real for a second. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, caught between the urge to spill everything and the instinct to guard your heart.

You took a deep breathe, rolling your eyes as you kept to yourself heading into the classroom, with a confused Eddie behind falling in step. Inside the classroom, desks sprawled before you like a battlefield. Your mind swirled with chaos, fogging your thoughts while sunlight streamed through the dusty windows.

Eddie plopped onto his seat beside yours, the weight of his presence both familiar and hurtful. 

He leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, arms draping over the backrest. “So, what’s the plan? Are we gonna sit here in silence, or do I need to start cracking more jokes until you crack a smile?” 

You stared at the desk in deep thought not daring to look at him. You thought you meant something to him but he only wanted to please Harrington winning the stupid bet. You pressed your palms flat against the cool surface of the desk, grounding yourself in the midst of the storm swirling inside you. 

“Why do you care?” The words slipped out, sharper than intended.

Eddie turned to you, eyebrows raisedin surprise. “Why wouldn’t I care?”

You broke eye contact, your fingers picking nervously at the edge of your notebook. “You know,” you replied, each word heavy with unspoken tension, “people don’t usually care about stories that aren’t theirs. You just want the thrill, the chase. A bet.”

His expression shifted, confusion sweeping across his features like a shadow. “That’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back, finally meeting his gaze

with a fire igniting in your chest. You leaned closer, the distance between you and Eddie shrinking but the gulf of understanding growing wider.

“C’mon, you think I’m some trophy for you to snag just because Steve put up a dare ?” The words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Eddie's mouth opened, then closed, like a fish out of water, searching for air, for a response. His eyes flickered with

" You think I didn't notice? You think I'm some stupid girl? You don't look at me the way you look at Chrissy over there." Eddie's face fell, disappointment etching its lines deeper. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” Your voice broke slightly, turning your vulnerability into a question loaded with disbelief. “Why play me for a dare? You don't even know me!”

“Hey, that’s not fair.” Eddie leaned closer, the intensity in his gaze pinning you like a fluttering moth against the wall. “You think I don’t know you? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and I like you. You’re not just some dare to me.” His sincerity cut through the fog of disbelief that loomed over you.

“Weeks,” you repeated, scoffing. “A couple of jokey lunches and borrowed mixtapes don ’t mean anything when it’s built on a foundation of deceit.”

Eddie flinched, the wind knocked from his sails as your words landed hard between you.

" I mean look at this way, you just wanted to prove Harrington wrong. That's it." Eddie recoiled slightly as if you’d thrown an invisible dart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” His voice wavered, disbelief lacing his words. “You think it’s just about proving some point to Steve?”

“Your always trying to pick a fight or banter with him. You never considered someone else's feelings" Eddie’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your accusation visibly sinking in. “Seriously? You really think I’m the type to just chase a dare?” 

" You can tell Harrington you got me fooled, what a win for Eddie Munson" you clapped, rolling your eyes. His expression darkened, eyes narrowing like a storm brewing on the horizon. “You think I want to just be some mindless pawn in this stupid game? That’s not me!”

“Maybe not,” you shot back, your voice steadying with the anger spilling over. “But it sure looks like it when you let him call the shots.”

Eddie leaned forward, determination igniting his gaze. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture.”

" Oh? Poor Eddie Munson can't get his dick hard then, is that it?" His expression twisted, surprise morphing into something sharper. 

“Wow,” he said, voice low and steady. “That’s a new low, even for you.” Anger tinged his words, but confusion lingered beneath, like a storm.

" Cry me a river, Munson" Eddie's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with defiance. He exhaled slowly, controlling the fire flickering within. “You’re really painting me with a broad brush here, aren’t you? You don’t even know what I’m capable of.”

“Clearly not much,” you shot back, frustration bubbling over as the hum of classroom chatter faded into the background.

" You're not scary, Eddie. I don't care what your capable of, clearly you can't even get a date" Eddie’s nostrils flared, and the color drained from his face. His frustration morphed into hurt, but underneath the rawness simmered a fierce resolve. “Really? That’s how you see me?”

" Pathetic" Eddie’s eyes narrowed, a mix of hurt and simmering anger flickering within. You felt the air grow heavy, your words echoing like a bell tolling in an empty hall. 

“Pathetic?” His voice dropped an octave, his gaze sharpening like a blade. “You think you can just throw that around without consequences? I’m not some chump you can tear into just for kicks.”

" Oh look, Eddie Munson knows how to talk and use words" Eddie’s expression hardened, discomfort shifting into something more dangerous. “You’re right. I’m not just going to sit here and let you dismiss everything we’ve built. You think I’m trying to play you? I've seen the real you.”

That was a mistake, you're nothing but an asshole that doesn't even know what real feelings are to a woman. You're an idiot Eddie." Eddie inhaled sharply, the wind knocked out of his sails. The laughter from the hallway faded, leaving the classroom swathed in a heavy silence that rippled with tension. 

“Wow.” A rough laugh escaped his lips, but it held a pitiless edge. “So this is what it’s come to, huh? Just lobbing accusations because you found out I’m only a player in someone else’s game?”

" You keep trying to please the wrong people. Tell Harrington I said hello" You turned away, the words a shield against the crack in your resolve. As you gathered your things, a heavy silence bore down on you, thick as fog. Eddie’s presence lingered, a fierce energy that both annoyed and electrified.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, furious at yourself for breaking under the weight of it all. Folding your arms over the books, you turned your back to him, determined to block out his gaze.

" Dustin was right, I should of never agreed to whatever this was. You broke my heart, congrats. You graduated from Heart Break school..." Eddie’s silence hit like a loaded gun, the air crackling with tension. The chatter from the classroom faded into a muffled hum, isolating the two of you in a bubble thick with unspoken words and heavy breaths. 

Wait,” Eddie said, his voice a low growl cutting through your storm of emotions. You didn’t turn around; fear of his gaze held you captive.

“Just… Let me,” he continued, desperation seeping into his tone.

You remained facing the window, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Outside, laughter danced through the mid-afternoon sun, a world away from the whirlwind inside you.

“Please,” he urged, voice softer, almost trembling. “Just listen to me for a second.”

You remained still, heart pounding. The aching silence stretched between you, a taut rope ready to snap.

“Please, just hear me out,” he pressed, the desperation threading through his voice like crackling electricity. You remained muted, feeling the weight of his gaze boring into your back.

It was wrong for me to listen to Harrington and take the bet, but I couldn't be around you becasue you make me nervous" He says.You turned, slowly. The intensity in his eyes surged with a mix of vulnerability and something deeply raw. 

“Make you nervous?” The disbelief dripped from your voice, thick as molasses. “So you thought a dare was the way to handle that? A bet on my feelings? You weren’t even trying to get to know me, just trying to entertain Steve.” 

Eddie’s jaw clenched, the frustration simmering just below the surface. “You have to understand, it ...was stupid. I’ll admit it. But I had my reasons.” His voice dropped, the bravado slipping away like sand through fingers.

You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, defensive, pushing back the urge to listen—a part of you still wanted to believe in his sincerity, in the sparks that had shot through your shared moments. 

“What reason could possibly justify treating someone's feelings like a game?” You shot back, your voice laced with disbelief.

Eddie hesitated, searching or words amidst the chaos in his mind. “I thought… maybe if I could make Steve eat his words, it’d all be worth it.” He took a deep breath, frustration and regret mingling in his gaze. “You were just too good at making me feel something more than I deserved".

Eddie’s confession hung suspended between you like the hum of electricity before a storm, sparking an array of emotions within. 

“More than you deserved?” You stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really how you see yourself as?” 

Eddie flinched, unsure how to respond. The weight of your gaze bore down on him, and for a moment, silence enveloped you both like an electric shroud. 

“Yes.” His voice trembled, revealing a raw honesty that caught you off-guard. “I thought proving myself to Steve would somehow change that.” 

Eddie’s vulnerability flickered like a candle flame caught in a draft, wobbling between hope and despair.

" Harrington is something else, he will know what's coming. I'll give him a piece of mind" Eddie held your gaze, and the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes transformed into a spark of curiosity. “You think he’ll care?” 

" Not with my foot up his ass, he will be throwing up my shoe laces" Eddie's laugh, unexpectedly rich, broke through the tension. “Now that’s a visual I needed today,” he said, shaking his head, the pain easing momentarily. 

“Glad to entertain,” you shrugged, the ghost of a smile.

" I know where he lives and I know where he works, piece of cake" Eddie’s eyes lit up, a mischievous spark igniting within. “Now that’s the spirit! Maybe we should form a revenge committee or something.” The playful glint shifted the mood slightly, but shadows still clung to the edges.

" You're not off the hook Munson" “Not off the hook?” Eddie’s voice turned more serious, beneath the cocky grin. “You really think I don’t know I messed up here?” He leaned forward on his desk, intensity sharpening his gaze.

" You don't, Eddie. You really hurt me and right now I don't think it's best if we hanged out anymore." Eddie recoiled, as if you’d struck him. The playfulness vanished from his eyes, replaced by a raw vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “You can’t be serious. We had something real, didn’t we?”

" I was stupid to fall in love with you" The words hung between you, heavy with truth. Eddie's face paled, the spark of mischief fading, leaving the raw ache of reality in its wake. 

“Love?” he stammered, voice strained as though processing an overwhelming blow.

" It doesn't matter anymore" He stared at you, bewilderment etching deep lines across his forehead. “It matters to me. Everything with you has meant something deeper than just a dare.” 

" It really hurts. I fell with your brown eyes, the way you laughed, the way your dimples popped out. The way you said my name. The way your arms would feel around me. The way you held my hand and walked me to class. The way you played with my hair and shared lunch with. The way you explained your campaigns to me, the way you let me come to band practice. Eddie you've made me a fool." 

Eddie’s expression shifted, raw pain surfacing behind the layers of bravado. “I never wanted to make you feel like that,” he whispered, as if the weight of your words pressed down on his chest. “I swear.”

" And worst of all, I waited for you until you were ready to kiss me. You told me you needed time and I gave you it but now, you made me into a bet for your own joy" Eddie’s face turned impassive, as if your words carved him into stone. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I never wanted it to come to this—”

“You should have thought of that before playing games with my heart ” you shot back, the heat of your frustration hurling every syllable like a well-aimed arrow. “Words don’t mean anything when they’re just a cover for a stupid dare.” 

He stood up from his seat, stepping closer as his hand reached out to grab your shirt pulling you closer. His grip was firm, but his eyes held an urgency, a request for understanding that tangled with your own hurt. 

" I think... I love you too" His words hung in the air between you like a delicate thread, wavering in the tension of the moment. You searched his gaze, uncertainty swirling within you, battling against the urge to believe him.

“Don’t,” you said, voice low, you don't get to use those words like they are air you breathe." Eddie flinched, the gravity of your words landing like a strike. He stepped back, hands falling to his sides, frustration flickering across his features. “What do you want from me?” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.

" I want you to go fuck up Harrington first and then get it through your thick skull how you hurt me, how of an idiot you really are..." “Fine,” Eddie relented, the fire simmering behind his eyes, transformed into determination. “I’ll take down Harrington. But don't think that’s going to fix what’s between us.” 

“Nothing will fix this,” you replied sharply. " I'm really special, in my own way and you've lost that." Eddie studied you, frustration etching lines across his forehead. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”

The air felt electric, charged with anger and hurt, a volatile concoction swirling around you. You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over with each heated heartbeat. 

"Seriously, Eddie?" You spat, a tremor weaving through your voice. "You still don’t get it? You’ve reduced me to some forgotten whim in your tangled game, and I refuse to let you rewrite my story for your own amusement.”

Eddie’s expression shifted, hurt mingling with anger. “You’re acting like I haven’t tried to show you who I am,” he said, voice rising slightly. “The stupid bet was just a misstep—a foolish attempt to prove a point...” He paused, words tumbling from his mouth like dominoes teetering on the edge. “But I wanted to be more than that. I liked the way you saw me.”

No you liked the attention I gave you" Eddie’s brow furrowed, shadows flickering across his face. “You think that’s all this is? It’s more than just a game for me.” 

“Then why the bet?” You crossed your arms, every word hardening even further into indifference. The classroom buzzed with life around you, students oblivious to the storm brewing in this corner. 

“I don’t know!” Eddie exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It was stupid. I thought it would be easy, a way to impress Steve and prove a point. But then… you came along, and it all became so much more complicated.” 

“Complicated?” You scoffed, feeling the anger bubbling inside. “You turned my life into a circus act while smiling like a clown. I’m not this easy prize you showcase to win over your friends.”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and desperation. “I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this,” he said, voice lowering, almost cracking. “You’re not just some prize. I never wanted to treat you like one.”

“Then why do it?” The words slipped past your lips, tinged with an urgency that resonated like a drumbeat in the charged silence. You felt the world around you blur into the background, focusing only on him—the boy with wild hair and a leather jacket, standing in stark contrast to the orderly classroom with its rows of desks and bulletin boards cluttered with reminders of school spirit.

His eyes, once playful and bold, now faltered under the weight of your gaze. “Because I hought I could impress him.” Eddie’s voice cracked like brittle glass, revealing the vulnerability beneath his bravado. “I thought it would be funny. It was all a mistake, and then—” 

“Then what?” You pressed, clenching your fists to keep from shaking. The edge in your voice sliced through the tension, a sharp demand for clarity.

“Then I realized,” he began, voice unsteady, “that I liked you. It was never just about the bet. I thought I could have fun, but it spiraled into something real. I didn’t want to hurt you—”

“Then I started to like you.” Crumbling under the weight of his admission, Eddie’s gaze fell, the bravado of moments.

" I thought you loved me?" you asked " Or was that a joke?"Eddie's mouth parted, surprise wiping the smirk from his lips. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, grappling with the weight of your question. “It’s not a joke,” he said, voice strained. “I really do"

" Then why play Harrington's game? To look cool?" Eddie’s brow furrowed, emotions swirling in his dark eyes like a brewing storm. “You think I wanted to? It just… happened. I got caught up in this web of trying to impress him, while something real started stirring between us.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his admission heavy in the space between you.

" But yet you're not doing anything to show me. Show me you love me." Eddie’s breath caught, caught in the swell of your words. “What more can I do? You think I don’t want to show you? I’ve been juggling everything—trying to prove myself to Steve, trying not to ruin this with you." He ran a hand through his hair, fingers trembling slightly as if trying to grasp the right words.

“Then stop trying to impress him,” you shot back, frustration surging within you. “Start caring about what’s right in front of you. Me.”

You stumbled through the classroom door before Eddie could reach for you, pushing past a group of students gathered by the lockers, oblivious to the storm brewing behind your eyes. You spotted Harrington leaning against his car, the sun glinting off his sunglasses like an unspoken challenge. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Steve called out, pushing himself off the car and approaching, his casual smile fading into confusion as he caught sight of your expression. 

A sharp crack echoed in the air, drowning out the laughter surrounding you. Steve stumbled back, hands shooting up to clutch his now-bloodied nose. Eyes wide, he blinked in stunned disbelief.

“What the hell was that for?” he shouted. " You've made a bet on me, with Munson!" Steve cradled his nose, confusion morphing into realization as he wiped away the blood. “Whoa, what—” His wide eyes darted between you and where Eddie hovered near the entrance, uncertainty shadowing his face. “You can’t just go around treating people like pawns in your little games, Harrington!” Your voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

Steve straightened, wincing as he wiped blood onto his sleeve. “What are you talking about?”

" You know exactly what you little shit!" Steve stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not escalate things here.”

“Not escalate?” You glared at him, fingers clenching into fists. “You orchestrated the whole thing! Shall I tell Nancy? Does she know? " “Hey, come on!” Steve protested, the confusion in his eyes shifting to defensiveness. “It was just a stupid bet! I didn't mean for it to blow up like this.” 

“Stupid bet? You’ve turned my feelings into a joke!” You retorted, the fire in your veins boiling over. Steve raised his hands defensively, taken aback. 

“Okay, okay, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun, alright? I didn’t think it would actually go this far.” 

Rage surged through you, hot and unyielding. “Fun? You think making someone a trophy is fun? You turned me into a punchline.”

As you were about to swing again, Eddie grabs you and turns you around to face him as he stares into your eyes. Eddie’s grip on your arms felt grounding, a stark contrast to the swirling chaos inside. His eyes locked onto yours, raw with a mix of determination and something deeper. 

“Let me handle this,” he said, voice low and steady, yet somehow soothing amidst the whirlwind. 

“Eddie, no,” you protested, pulling your gaze away. The electricity in his eyes sparked a flicker of hope, but the anger roiling within you demanded attention. 

“Just… trust me ,” he urged, his voice steady as it wrapped around you like a protective shield. The intensity in his gaze pulled at the fraying edges of your resolve, urging you to let go of the anger, if only for a moment.

This time Eddie pushes Steve against his car, seething with anger.Eddie’s hands gripped Steve’s jacket, slamming him against the cold metal of the car. Steve’s eyes widened, the breath knocked from his lungs. “You ever think about how your little pranks can ruin someone’s life?” Eddie demanded, his breath hitching with the weight of pent-up fury.

“Eddie, chill!” Steve gasped, hands bracing against the car as he struggled to find his balance. Panic stirred in his eyes, disbelief mixing with realization as he stammered, “Look, man, it was supposed to be harmless! I didn't know she’d get all worked up over it.”

Eddie's grip tightened, his expression a tempest of anger and hurt. “Harmless? You think making her the butt of your joke is harmless?” he snarled, his voice low and fierce, each word slicing through the simmering tension. 

Steve stumbled over his words, desperation lacing his tone. “I didn’t think—”

" what's going on here? " Robin asks as she walks up to the car. The words hung in the air, a sudden distraction that sliced through the tension. Robin's presence arrived like a breath of fresh air, abrupt and disarming. She tilted her head, arms crossed, a look of bewilderment clouding her face.

" Why is his nose bleeding? Eddie what did you do?" She continued to ask. Eddie released Steve, who slid down the car with a gasp, cradling his nose as he winced. “It’s not what you think, Robin,” Eddie shot back, frustration lacing his voice. He turned to you, eyes still burning with a mix of anger and desperation. You could feel the weight of Robin’s gaze on you, a careful observer caught in the aftermath of something chaotic and unfiltered. 

“Okay, so what’s happening? Because I just saw a punch thrown and now I’m confused.” Robin stepped closer, concern etching into her features as she glanced between you, Eddie, and a dazed Harrington, who was struggling to regain his composure.

Eddie turned to Robin, catching his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Your pal Harrington here decided to treat my girlfriend like a bet,” he said, venom thickening the final word.

“Steve made a bet,”

Robin blinked slowly, her confusion deepening as she processed the accusation. “A bet? On what?” 

Eddie turned his intensity on Steve, the fury still crackling in the air. “On her! He thought I wouldn’t be able to snag a date with her. Said it was a challenge.”

Robin’s mouth hung open, disbelief morphing into a frown. “A date? Are you serious? You're such a dingus!!” She shifted her gaze to Steve.

Steve winced, the gravity of her words sinking in like lead. “It was just a dumb dare, Robin. I thought it’d be funny!” He looked around, desperation spilling from his eyes.

“Funny?” Robin’s voice cut through the air, disbelief etched across her features. “You think betting on someone’s emotions is funny? You were supposed to be better than this, Harrington!”

“That’s enough!” Eddie barked, his hands slamming against the car, fists trembling at his sides. “You need to understand that this isn’t just a game. You don’t treat people as pawns in some ridiculous contest. You never know how it can affect them!”

Robin stepped forward , her jaw set with determination. “This isn’t just about jokes or bets, Steve. You’ve crossed a line. You have to take responsibility for your actions.” She shot a glare at him, her frustration palpable even in the shifting tension.

" I'm sorry" Steve says to you. " I was an idiot" He adds. “An idiot?” Your voice sharpens, the hurt leaking through your words. “You think that covers it?”

Steve fidgets with the collar of his shirt, avoiding your gaze. “I didn ’t mean for it to come out like that. It was just some stupid bet.”

“Stupid bet?” you shot back, eyebrows raised. “You treat people like that for fun?”

“Come on, it wasn’t supposed to be serious. We were just messing around,” Steve stammered, glancing toward the ground.

You think this is funny? You played with my feelings like they were a game, Steve.” 

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the school parking lot. The fading light wrapped around you like a cold shroud.

“Listen,” he began, " how about free movies for a year?"Your laugh burst out, sharp and humorless. “Movies? You think I’m going to be swayed by popcorn and a flick?” 

" How about driving you to school every morning?" Eddie cuts Steve off, " No your not!"You turned your head, the noise drawing your attention.

How about you let me drive your car whenerver I want? How about you let me put a bet on you and see how you feel?" Steve looks in horror at you. “Do you even hear yourself right now?” Your voice drips with disbelief. 

“Look, I get it. I messed up,” he stammered, hands raised in a half-hearted defense. 

“ Or should I send Hargrove on you?" you asked.Steve’s eyes darted around, scanning for an escape. “Okay, that’s low. You know Hargrove...”

" I'm still here" Eddie says. Eddie leaned against the rusted side of Steve's car, tossing a crumpled soda can into the nearby wastebasket. “And I’d love to hear more about this bet.”

Steve groans, " how about you do the same thing to Nancy as Eddie did to me? Then you'll feel how I feel? Hmm?" you asked. " How about I call Nancy instead?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, you mean turn our sweet little Steve into the town’s biggest villain? I’d love front-row."

“Please don’t,” Steve whispered, his face flushing crimson.

Eddie chuckled, running a hand through his dark curls. “Relax, Harrington. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation of being the good guy."

Steve shot Eddie a glare, frustration radiating off him like heat from a fire. “It’s not a joke, Munson. You don’t get it.”

" Look I'm so sorry for making the bet with Eddie. It won't happen again" Steve says to you. You crossed your arms, the bite of his apology doing little to thaw the ice between you. “It’s too late for regrets, Steve. You can’t just wipe this away with an 'I’m sorry' and expect it to all be fine."

Your hand reaches for his keys. " You should walk home, I'll drive Robin home" you smirked. Steve’s eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “Wait, what? You can’t just—”

“Watch me.” You turned your back on him, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders as you approached Robin.

Eddie is laughing as Steve glares while Robin high fives you. “Now that’s what I call a comeback,” Robin said, her grin wide as she fell in step beside you. 

You slid into the driver’s seat, your hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white. Robin hopped in, a bounce inher step as she settled into the passenger seat. “You know he’s going to sweat bullets all the way home, right?” 

“Good,” you replied, tapping the ignition.

"He's walking for the rest of the week" you tell her. Robin leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “You know this whole thing will blow over, right? You’re not really going to drive him crazy forever?” 

" Let see him use those legs first" you pulled down the window shoutign at Steve, " Is that even walking?" Steve stood there, mouth agape, hands thrown up in surrender. 

“Real mature!” he shouted, embarrassment deepening the blush on his cheeks. “You can’t just act like this forever!” 

" This is my game now, Harrington" Eddie is laughing clutching his stomach. " You're not off the hook, Munson." “Let’s not start acting like I’m the villain here,” Eddie shot back, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

" you look like your pissing your pants, Harrington!" you shouted as you pass him driving his car. “Very funny!” Steve called after you, hands balled into fists at his sides. 

You rode the car in step with Steve, smirking. " move those legs, or are you too slow now a days? Is being the babysitter gettign to you?" Steve tossed his hands up in frustration, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You think this is just a joke, don’t you?” His voice strained against the surge of humiliation.

" your fly is undone anyways" you laughed. Steve's cheeks flared crimson, hands darting to his zipper. “You’re unbelievable!” 

Eddie is driving behind the car, laughing watching it unfolds. 

" You need another leg, Harrington" you laughed watching as he stomped home. Steve growled ready to bang on his own car when you drove further making him chase the car. You pressed the accelerator, the tires screeching against the pavement as the distance between you and Steve widened. 

Behind you, Eddie’s laughter echoed, the sound infectious. 

“Look at him!” Eddie pointed, his voice rising above the roar. " Good luck getting home, Harrington!"

Steve flipped him off.

[ficretus]

*Salem's castle some time after Vacuo*

Jaune: So... are we gonna talk about it?

Cinder: There is nothing to talk about Arc. It is a simple plan: Your gaggle of friends will get you back in exchange for location of the last Relic.

Jaune: I meant other things, like your mental breakdown during our last fight or how you're conveniently dodging questions about what drove you to do these things.

Cinder: I do not remember asking for a psychiatrist. You are surrounded by Salem's extensive book collection, do not bother me, read a book or something *throws a dozen of books at his feet*

Jaune: Violet Swirlsword, Selected works. *flips few pages* What even is this, some kind of play but it's all written in gibberish.

Cinder: It is not some gibberish Arc, It is Old Valean. Many of the finest works of Remnant's literature were written in it, including the play you are currently reading.

Jaune: That's great and all, but I'd prefer one in current Valean language, thank you very much.

Cinder: Is it really my fault your education system has failed you? Or I suppose in your case, you failed your education system. I really do not care, look at the pretty pictures in books or something, do not bother me. *murmurs* Now, where did I put it?

Jaune: Sigh... this one looks newer. What is this title? Property of C.F?

Cinder: I would prefer if you stopped reading aloud. *murmurs* It was somewhere around here I swear.

Jaune: *flips few pages* *snickering*

Cinder: *turns around* Are you trying to invent new ways of annoying me? Come on, spill it out, what is so funny? Share it with class.

Jaune: *clear throat* Dear Diary, I dreamt about him last night. He was so dreamy, way his eyes sparkled...

Cinder: Wait a minute...

Jaune: He was the one on the floor, yet I felt completely disarmed and powerless to resist his charm.

Cinder: *rushes towards Jaune* No no no no no no!

Jaune: I saw him in the hallway this morning, it was so embarrassing. Not only because I met him in person, because I didn't even know his name. I sent Emerald to find it out with an excuse of it being for the sake of our mission. My Prince's name is...

Cinder: *snatches the diary, red in face* Isn't your whole deal that you have seven sisters?! I'd expect at least you to respect woman's privacy!

Jaune: Come on, you have to admit that was funny. So... who is the dastardly prince who stole the heart of fair maiden of fall?

Cinder: N-none of you business!

*page falls out of diary with doodle Miss Cinder Arc*

Jaune and Cinder: AW COME ON!

*next few hours have been awkward in Salem's castle*

[gurugirl]

The Ex | ex!harry

Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3435

Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst

You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.

You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.

Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.

“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.

You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…

“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.

“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”

You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.

You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.

You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.

You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.

You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.

harry + ginny = really good stuff

It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.

Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”

“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.

You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.

Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.

After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He’d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.

The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.

More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.

And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.

Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.

You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.

The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.

You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.

“Hi, Sunshine.”

You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.

You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”

You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.

He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”

You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.

“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.

When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”

His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.

“Where is Ginny?”

Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”

You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.

You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”

You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.

“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.

You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”

“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”

You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.

“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.

“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.

“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.

“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.

“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.

You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.

And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”

You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.

The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.

“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.

You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.

Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”

“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”

You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.

“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”

You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”

He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.

“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”

As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.

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