#i dunno if i should tag anything else here. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

Text

safe like a pinky promise

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is protection'

rated m | 2,744 words | cw: alcohol, steve is drunk, minor violence (mostly just the threat of violence) | tags: protective eddie munson, protective steve harrington, post breakup, getting back together, exes to lovers

####################################

In hindsight, Steve should’ve been smarter about coming to this bar alone.

He’d only ever been there with Eddie and his friends, and while they weren’t the most popular, people knew not to mess with them or anyone with them. Without their protection, without Eddie’s protection, Steve was kind of asking for trouble.

Especially when he showed up already drunk, causing a scene at the bar in the middle of Corroded Coffin’s set.

He’d been having fun, or trying to, at his house with Robin. But when her parents called and insisted she come home, she left him with a buzz and a loneliness he couldn’t do anything else with.

He missed Eddie. He’d fucked up so bad and now he had to miss Eddie forever. Or maybe not forever. Maybe if he just showed up to support him like he used to, maybe if he bought him a drink and asked to talk, maybe if he kissed him in the bathroom and asked him to come home with him…

The bar was packed, way busier than it ever had been before. Most of the crowd was younger, but definitely older than Eddie and the band. He could see some older guys in the back corner and the regulars at the bar.

The room was spinning as he tried to get eyes on Eddie. He just needed to see Eddie.

Eddie was on stage, the poor lighting doing a shitty job of making him look like the star he was. Steve would need to talk to the owner about that soon. His boy should shine.

Well, he wasn’t really his boy anymore, or ever. That was the problem.

Steve had run. Despite Eddie always insisting that he was a runner, Steve had been the one to book it the moment Eddie wanted things to be more serious.

Even Robin told him it didn’t make sense. Steve was the commitment type, craved permanence from someone in a way that most people their age didn’t even think about.

The moment Eddie offered that to him, he left.

He regretted it every moment since.

Eddie’s voice filled the bar, the drums and guitar of his bandmates loud enough to make the walls shake. It was all Steve could focus on.

He didn’t know how people were having regular conversations right now.

“‘Scuse me!” Steve yelled to the bartender, who was pouring a beer from the tap. “Did you guys not know they were playin’ t’night?”

He could kind of register that he was slurring his words a bit, but couldn’t do anything about it. He hadn’t been drunk in a long time, he forgot the way his head buzzed when he was.

“They play every Tuesday night, son. Why?” The bartender handed the beer

Steve wasn’t usually an asshole, not anymore. If he was, it was unintentional.

But this was about to be very intentional.

“So you just expect them to sing on a dark stage?” He managed to not slur too much that time, wanted to express how serious it was that Eddie wasn’t getting the right treatment. “How’s he sposed to be a rockstar?”

The bartender crossed his arms, unamused at Steve’s questioning.

Steve didn’t care. Eddie deserved better than a half-assed attempt at a bar.

“He’s so good! And you don’t let him be.” Steve wasn’t sure if that made sense, but the bartender seemed to get it.

“Listen, kid. I dunno who served you before you got here, but you’re not gonna cause a scene, alright? Just go get some fresh air and wait for your friend.”

“He should have better lights!”

A man at the bar stood up and took a step towards Steve. “Hey, you heard Ernie. Go get some fresh air before you do somethin’ stupid.”

Steve should probably listen. Robin would tell him to listen.

The bar was suddenly very quiet, the music on stage paused and voices of people nearby so quiet Steve couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Why was he even mad?

He looked over to see Eddie on stage, looking around the room with his eyes squinting.

Right, the lights.

“He’s gonna be famous someday and it won’t be because you helped. Maybe you should buy a-” Steve felt his stomach turn. Shit. “A um.”

The man across from him mistook his stumbling over words and fists as a threat, and before Steve knew it, he was pushed against the wall by the bar.

“You listen here, kid. Don’t know why you showed up already so drunk, but you best leave before this turns into a serious problem. Ernie does these boys a favor lettin’ them play for tips at all. Start causin’ a scene, they won’t be able to come back, ya understand?”

The hand balling up his shirt was large, and the man’s face was red with anger.

Steve never backed down from a fight though.

“If nobody stands up for them, they’ll just keep playin’ for free. This place doesn’t even get people like this unless they’re playing.”

Just as Steve closed his eyes and expected a fist to the face, he was released and fell down against the wall. He looked up to see Eddie, guitar slung over his back, talking to the man who was holding him against the wall.

He couldn’t really hear what they were saying, too distracted by the way Eddie’s curls framed his face. They were always perfectly messy, falling in a way that would probably look terrible on someone else. But it was Eddie, and everything looked good on Eddie.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice brought him back to earth and he suddenly realized the entire band was standing behind Eddie, and all eyes were on them.

“They don’t even know you’re a rockstar, Eds,” Steve whined. “I tried to tell ‘em and they thought I was gonna be a problem.”

Eddie waved the guys away, handing his guitar to Gareth before leaning down to help Steve to his feet. “C’mon. You’re drunk as shit.”

Steve couldn’t really argue with that, and arguing would maybe make Eddie take his hands off of him, so fuck that. Eddie’s hands belonged on him. 2+2 was four and Eddie’s hands should be on Steve.

“Eddie, they don’t even turn the lights on!” Steve fell against his chest, mumbling into his shoulder. “No lights!”

Steve breathed in Eddie’s scent, sweat and body wash mixed up just right to drive Steve crazy.

But Eddie didn’t do it to drive Steve crazy, not anymore. Not since-

“Did you drive here?” Eddie asked, luckily keeping his arm wrapped around Steve as he guided him out the front door.

“No. Walked.” For some reason, he felt chastised, like maybe Eddie was disappointed in him, but he didn’t know what for. Maybe drinking? But Eddie liked to let loose sometimes too. It wouldn’t be fair of him to judge Steve for finally letting go a little.

“You walked? From where?”

“My house.”

“Steve, that’s three miles away.”

“Is it?”

Eddie pulled him to the back of his van, leaning him against the back doors and taking a long look at him.

“Does Robin know you walked here?”

“She isn’t in charge of me, I don’t have to ask for fuckin’ permission-“

“Get in the van.” Eddie tugged him to the passenger door, opening it for him and waiting for Steve to get in. “Do you need help?”

“No. I can do it.”

Which was a lie, and they both knew it, but Steve was not about to admit out loud how little control he had over his own limbs.

It became clear the moment he tried to step up into the van and his foot missed making contact by a solid six inches. He would’ve fallen flat on his face if not for Eddie’s strong arms wrapping around him and lifting him into the passenger seat.

Eddie closed the door and got into the driver’s seat, not even turning the radio on as they drove. They were heading in the direction of the trailer park, not Steve’s house, and Steve tried not to feel smug about it.

“Why did you come tonight?” Eddie finally asked, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. “Why are you drunk? And why did I have to rescue you from getting another concussion?”

“I just miss you.”

It was simple. That’s what it all boiled down to.

Steve missed Eddie, missed being able to just show up for him when he wanted, missed playing with his hair when he was asleep because that was the only time he sat still enough for him to do it. He missed the way he kissed the freckle closest to his ear when he was trying to calm him down after a nightmare. He missed making him laugh.

“Steve, you-” Eddie sighed and turned the radio on. “You can sleep it off and I’ll bring you home in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep it off. I don’t want you to ignore me.” Steve crossed his arms, protecting himself from whatever words Eddie would throw at his chest. “I want you to miss me too.”

The turn into the trailer park was silent as Steve’s words surrounded them.

When the van was in park in front of Eddie’s trailer, he turned to Steve.

“I do miss you. I miss us.” Eddie wouldn’t look at him, but Steve could tell he was trying not to cry. “But I can’t talk to you about it until you’ve slept this off, okay? Whatever you’re feeling now might be gone in the morning.”

The adrenaline wearing off was enough for Steve to feel pretty sober, but he could still see double and the van felt like it was still moving under him, so he knew he was too drunk to have the conversation now.

“But in the mornin’?” Steve’s head felt heavy.

He was reaching his least favorite part of being drunk, the exhaustion phase, where every movement felt like it was in slow motion but the world around him was speeding by and his body felt numb. He closed his eyes as he waited for Eddie’s response.

His eyes shot open when he felt Eddie’s finger brush against his pinky.

“In the morning, we’ll talk. Pinky promise,” his pinky wrapped around Steve’s, squeezed, and didn’t let go.

Steve looked down at their joined pinkies, thought about how something so small made him feel so safe, and nodded once.

Eddie helped him inside, one arm around his waist and humming a song Steve vaguely recognized as they walked down the hall to Eddie's room.

“Couch?” Steve asked.

“Don’t want Wayne to wake you up when he gets home.”

Steve was helped out of his shoes and jeans and tucked in on his side of the bed.

He curled up under the blanket, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s shampoo on the pillow.

He drifted off to the warmth coming from Eddie’s side of the bed and the sound of Eddie humming that familiar song.

******

“...need ya to be careful, Ed. He really did a number on ya last time.”

Steve blinked his eyes open as he processed Wayne’s voice on the other side of the door, a voice he hadn’t heard in months. A voice that used to be warm and comforting for Steve from a person who placed his trust in Steve to not hurt his nephew.

“I think I did a number on him, too.”

Steve’s head was pounding, but not in the way of his usual migraines. He hadn’t been hungover in a long time, but he was quickly reminded of why he hadn’t bothered to drink in so long.

“I’m headin’ to bed. Be good to each other.”

Steve heard Wayne’s bedroom door close and Eddie’s door open. He didn’t pretend to be asleep, even though it would have given him at least another few minutes of soaking in this feeling of being Eddie’s before things turned sour. He looked at Eddie, who stood at the edge of his bed, his fingers curling around a loose thread of his blanket.

He was nervous.

He hadn’t been nervous when Steve broke his heart, he’d just been angry.

He hadn’t been nervous when they first kissed, he’d just been ready.

But he was nervous now and Steve knew that meant he needed to lead.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was rough, more than just the usual morning rasp from disuse. “Can we talk in bed?”

They were known to have nightly talks facing each other in bed, sometimes still sweaty and breathless from sending each other over the edge, the honesty easier when the outside world felt far away.

Eddie must have recognized Steve’s intentions as he got under the blanket, facing him in bed with a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey,” Steve said again, barely more than a whisper.

“Hi.”

“Sorry about last night.” Eddie shrugged, but Steve pushed on. “I shouldn’t have gone to the bar at all. But I definitely shouldn’t have caused problems when I got there. I’m sorry I made a scene.”

“It’s alright, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand was inching closer to Steve’s between them. “Why were you drunk?”

“Robin and I were hanging out and she kept trying to bring up how I haven’t tried going out at all since-” Steve breathed out. “Since I ruined everything with you. And she said if I wasn’t gonna make it right with you, I should at least try to find someone who might make me happy. And I didn’t know who would! It was you for so long and you’re the only person who could make me that happy. So when she left I went from drinking a couple beers to drinking a few shots of the whiskey my dad didn’t take with him. And then I just…missed you.”

Eddie’s hand finally found Steve’s, his fingers curling against the back of his hand.

“I always miss you, but it was worse when I was alone and drinking. I was drunk enough to think walking to the bar was a good idea, which it clearly wasn’t-”

“I dunno about that. You’re in my bed again and that’s not all bad,” Eddie interrupted, a small smile threatening to break out into a much bigger one. “We aren’t doing anything else, but can I kiss you, Stevie?”

“Please,” Steve breathed out.

It had been four months, two weeks, and one day since the last time Eddie kissed Steve.

But this kiss felt like no time had passed at all, like they’d pick up exactly where they left off before Steve ruined it.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Eddie said against his lips, opening his eyes to see what was going on. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m just sorry that I let myself ruin what we had.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Eddie cupped his face in his hands, forcing eye contact. “You did screw up. I can’t lie and say you didn’t. You had every chance to talk me through what was going on in your head and work it out in any other way, but you didn’t. That hurt me, but it also hurt you. And I should’ve tried to talk after. I shut you out and didn’t leave much room for you to make it right. That part is on me.”

“It wasn’t up to you to-”

“No, it was up to us and we’re young and stupid and have no idea what we’re doing so of course we’re gonna fuck up. We can love each other and still be stupid sometimes. But maybe next time we won’t forget that we love each other, huh?” Eddie kissed the tip of Steve’s nose. “Do you still have those thoughts?”

“Which ones?”

“The ones telling you that you can’t have someone who makes you feel safe.”

Steve looked at the only person on earth besides Robin who ever made him feel truly loved and protected.

He thought about how his last words to Eddie before last night had been spewed in anger, but were born of pain and mistrust in his own ability to be loved. He thought about how Robin told him the only way to be loved was to just let it happen, even when it was scary.

“I do still have them, yeah.” Steve leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips, soft and slow. “But you’ll protect me, right?”

“Every day, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #cw: alcohol #post breakup #getting back together

273 notes · View notes

rocknrollsalad · 14 days ago

Text

rating: t cw: implied car wreck, traffic, smoking tags: pining idiots, pre-steddie, mentioned Buckingham, word count: 928

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "traffic"

“Remember when you had the hots for Tiffani?” Eddie asked, his feet kicked up on the dashboard as he relaxed into the corner of the seat.

“Why is she the one everyone holds against me?”

“Because she made you a doll…of yourself.”

“So? You made a little guy that was me, hand-painted and everything,” Steve shook his head and grabbed the cigarettes.

Eddie knew he was pushing the guy’s buttons and should probably tread lightly but it was so fun and almost too easy. Plus, there wasn’t anything else to do. All they had for entertainment beyond riling up Steve was watching the daylight slowly disappear. Even the radio couldn't save them as they conserved gas.

He watched the cigarette find its home between Steve’s lips and fought every urge to hold his lighter out, lit and desperate for the closeness it’d require. Instead, Steve stared off into the horizon and waited for the lighter in the van to warm up.

“That’s different. First of all," Eddie started, finger to the sky. "You asked me to make that. I didn’t do it for fun and I never sneakily cut your hair to use for realism.”

“Neither did Tiffani.”

“You sure about that, I swear we all saw a little bald patch for a while.”

“You could, ya know, you could walk to Indianapolis. I think you’d probably beat me there,” Steve huffed.

It was so perfectly Steve that it made Eddie want to scream. He was literally pushing Eddie away but wrapping it up with a neat little bow. Get the hell out of the car but also then you wouldn’t be stuck in this god-awful traffic. I'm helping you more than I'm helping me.

He’d probably give Eddie his coat, a couple of quarters to call anyone should he need to, and a snack before literally kicking him out.

Of course, that was all if it wasn’t such a hollow threat. Eddie had more than learned that in all their time together. Something he hadn’t expected to say but here he was spending a lot of his free time with The Steve Harrington. Perhaps the weirdest thing to come from this whole monsters and alternate dimensions thing was learning what made the guy tick.

“God and miss hanging out with you? I love being trapped in my van and snapped at because you can’t control the weather.”

“We don’t know that the weather did this,” Steve finally lit his cigarette and cracked the window. Eddie tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away. It was some kink Eddie didn’t know he’d had until Steve.

“Either directly or indirectly, it did. So who are you kissing at midnight?”

“Is that why you were asking about Tiffani?” Steve said, passing over the cigarette just like Eddie knew he would. It was why he didn’t light his own, he wanted to share with Steve.

“You think Robin and Chris invited her to their place for the party? Robin likes to make you squirm but that feels too much for even her.”

“Nah because then she’d had to admit she was flirting with her too,” Steve laughed, holding his hand out for the cigarette.

They were losing the last bits of daylight and Eddie started to feel a little anxious. They’d been there for far too long and they had a limited break in the weather. The longer they sat here the worse it was going to be when they finally got moving. Hanging out with Steve was starting to rub off on Eddie. He was thinking practically. It was awful.

A few brake lights ahead of them lit up and gave Eddie a bit of hope. He shook his head and said “Gross” to what Steve had said.

“So who are you kissing at midnight then? You’re not going to be doing any better than I am,” Steve poked. Eddie deserved this for getting him worked up but he didn’t enjoy it.

“I dunno, maybe our odds are about the same,” he said, feeling just a little brave as he refused to make eye contact. Even as he felt the cigarette offered again.

All of this was ramping up to something but Steve wasn’t following the script. He was on edge and quicker to fight than normal. Something Eddie usually loved and even now was enjoying a bit but that’s because it was better than thinking too hard about asking the man to be his New Year’s kiss.

To confess he’d been harboring a crush so big it was impacting everyone around them seemed the perfect road trip confession. Eddie was even blessed with traffic. Which did little more than give him more time not to pull the trigger. It shouldn't be this hard, yet Eddie stayed silent.

He sucked in a breath and tried to stop thinking about it. The more he tried to set up the perfect conversation, the harder it seemed to be.

And as mentally planned, the van filled with whoops and cheers, only they weren't for Eddie’s confession. It was joy punctuated by Steve slamming the gear shift into drive. “We’re moving!” He said, shaking the wheel. With one last drag from the cigarette, he passed it off to Eddie. “Come on, I don’t think we’ll even be late.”

“Great,” Eddie sighed and watched the moment slowly creep by like the discarded McDonalds bag he’d been staring at for the past hour. He’d missed his chance and there was no way the universe was going to hand him another. Not like that.

#steddie #written for: steddie holiday drabbles 2024

62 notes · View notes

thosegayoldmen · 1 month ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @loki-is-my-kink-awakening and @impulsemuppet!!

🚨 THIS IS A TWO-PARTER!! 🚨

Have a BEEG snippet from me and @ghoulehhh just cause we feel nice! This is part 1! Here's the second part 😉

Loki’s face settles into a calm mask, the small, smug smile resting on his lips radiating a sense of ease - even if he can feel his bones shaking with excitement…and maybe fear. That feeling only intensifies as he sets foot in the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a chilling finality once he’s cleared the threshold. Striding towards the table with confidence, he slides into the empty seat opposite the prisoner and drops his folder down. The grizzled Variant sitting there only reacts once the chair scrapes the floor and the folder hits the table. He’s still slouching in his own chair, hands remaining in his lap - but at least there’s an air of recognition amidst his general state of malaise, something that could vaguely pass for rapt attention. Loki flips open to the top page as he settles in, deciding the timestick he’s brought should stay in his lap - well out of the other man’s reach. Instead of sprawling out like he would normally, he keeps his legs firmly tucked in towards his side. He can’t place why he feels the need to exercise such caution, but something inside prods him to do so. Better safe than sorry. “So…M-KI211 is it?” he starts, keeping things casual and his tone light. His attention is on the stack of papers, pretending like he isn’t the least bit interested in anything else. “...Or do you have a less formal name I can call you?” “That’s what they’re callin’ me?” the gray-haired man replies after a few moments, his voice dull and even. There’s a shallow sigh, a look of disappointment crossing his features. And then he’s mumbling: “Dunno what I expected. Sounds kinda boring.” Hearing Mobius’ voice come out of the stranger’s mouth is jarring to say the least. It’s the same, unmistakably so, but it sounds so dead compared to the original. Loki resists the urge to frown, thoughts already racing through his head about who this particular Variant could be, what could have possibly happened to him to make him already so different to the Mobius he knows. Not-Mobius lifts his cuffed hands just so he can scratch at a little itch on his cheek, the pad of his blackened thumb rubbing close to the fissure that’s running straight down from his hairline. Loki’s eyes follow him as he moves, watching those charred fingers linger on vivid blue lines before he lets them drop back down into his lap with a clink of the metal cuffs. Overall, he looks tired and thoroughly battered, like he might fall apart right here, skin worn and bruised and sickly-looking - and yet Loki can still feel a power radiating from him. He glances a bit further up, making eye contact with those faintly glowing blue irises and regretting it immediately. It’s familiar, that something - almost intoxicatingly so. The Variant’s lip curls into a slightly more pronounced smile - an amused one - and Loki quickly looks away, back down at the document. “Well, it’s one of the names here,” he comments, flipping through a few pages of the document, most of which have heavy edits and large sections completely crossed out, all with different variant numbers attached. He’s not really reading much of anything, eyes skimming the text instead. “Though you’re quite right - it is rather boring.” He straightens in his chair, looking back up from the document with an apathetic nod of his head. “What would you expect me to call you?”

Tagging mostly so people can see, since I'm late YET AGAIN 😅

@elodiah @lokimobius @natendo-art @kcscribbler @kusakichan15

@mythical-magik @devilbearingtrouble @mirilyawrites @scifikimmi @silentxsymphony

@ilaytrapsfortroubadours @boredintjqueen @rin-love-is-green @stillwanderingflame @andthekitchensinkao3

@insert-witty-user-name-here @blackbirdofasgard @dreamycloud @distracteddream @mobius-m-mobius

@mobiusismycomfortcharacter @dilfmobius @adorbspotat

#WIP #WIP Wednesday #WIP Game #Lokius #Loki x Mobius #Mobius x Loki #Loki #Mobius #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mobius m mobius #Loki Series #Fanfic #Fic #Writing #My Writing #Mr Tesseract #Your Paradox Is Blue

53 notes · View notes

wing-ed-thing · 1 year ago

Text

Smoker Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns

𓆃 For how tight-laced and no nonsense he can be, Smoker isn't a terrible partner in the slightest. While he brings some of his stern nature into a relationship, you'll find that he's extremely loyal and surprisingly soft and attentive.

𓆃 Putting it plainly, when it comes to relationships, Smoker has been there and done that. He knows the role he's meant to play in your chosen dynamic. And that being said, he knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waste any time playing games.

𓆃 While early inklings of catching feelings might throw him off a bit (especially if you've been close friends or colleagues), there's little else that keeps him from being direct and politely asking you out forthright.

𓆃 Smoker is rather untraditionally orthodox in the sense that he prefers the traditional song and dance of taking you to dinner, but bringing flowers didn't even cross his mind. He'll hold the door, but couldn't give a damn about which side of the road you walk on. And if you ask if he intends to split your bill he'll look at you like you're crazy.

𓆃 And there's almost no way to predict Smoker's picking and choosing in terms of his relationship expectations, which mostly comes from him thinking things and then not telling you because he thought them so you must automatically know.

𓆃 You'll find that you often have to roll with random things popping up in your mutual schedule at the last minute because how could Smoker not tell you he's been dispatched for the next two weeks?

𓆃 And his reaction is always the same. He'll crinkle his forehead and squint his eyes while the words "I thought I told you 'bout that" pass around his cigar.

𓆃 Smoker often sails for a period of time and then comes back home to where he's stationed. You can almost always count of this revolving schedule, although if yours is remotely similar, it's rare that your schedules line up.

𓆃 Whenever he travels, Smoker always brings back a little gift from whatever island he's just been to, and you've even found that you can request just about whatever your heart desires and Smoker will find a way to get it.

𓆃 Although, he doesn't understand a thing about trends, so requesting a popular item will be met with a grumpy, begrudging attitude.

𓆃 "Why do you want a stupid little trinket? You're not gonna ask for, ah, I dunno jewelry or somethin'?" "I'm not buyin' you a Soul King vinyl. You know that guy's a wanted criminal right?"

𓆃 For all his complaining, Smoker will come home with a necklace and the vinyl (he sent one of his men to buy one incognito).

𓆃 And he complains a lot and you'll find that he can have quite the attitude. After the third time you've mentioned how much you want take-away Smoker is going to put his jacket on and get it, but he's going to be mumbling and grumbling the whole time.

𓆃 That goes for just about anything you want on a whim. Whether you want something sweet in the middle of the night or you walked past something really nice at the market and now you're lamenting over whether you should have bought it.

𓆃 And every time Smoker is getting out of bed to get you ice cream or turning you both around so you— or more likely he— can buy you that item you were so infatuated with.

𓆃 But for every ounce of attitude he gives, it's within reason and expectation that you give it right back to him. Smoker will never say he likes when you're a bit sassy, but he's very clearly amused by banter.

𓆃 Landing a clever clap-back on him simply makes him smile. The smile is usually accompanied by an eyeroll and the shake of his head, but you can tell he loves when you get a little feisty.

𓆃 In the same vein, Smoker easily gets suckered by a bit of pouting here and there because for being rigid and grumpy, he would do anything short of breaking the law for you.

𓆃 If you're someone looking for something serious and long-term, look no further because Smoker is on board with settling down. Once you're in a relationship, there's very little that would keep him from being anything but dedicated to you.

𓆃 Oh, except piracy.

𓆃 Yeah, piracy would likely get in the way of that.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#smoker x reader #one piece x reader #smoker #one piece smoker #vice admiral smoker x reader #captain smoker x reader #x reader #reader insert #smoker headcanons #smoker headcanon #one piece reader insert #x you #white chase smoker x reader #white chase smoker #op x reader #op headcanons #op headcanon #op smoker

250 notes · View notes

uncleasad · 8 months ago

Text

Get To Know Tag

It was @evilpenguinrika, in April, with a tag 🗡️

Last Song: “Richard Cory�� (YouTube: live version someone showed me the other day [that whole appearance is great!] / Song.link: original album version) [I’ve written about the song before here.]

Favourite Colour: Blue

Currently Watching: About the only thing left I’m still watching is Ghosts 😳

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy: Uh…anything but spicy? Dunno. Iced tea should be sweet, and, well, sweets, but I don’t know that I have food that’s sweet? And I’ve never understood what savory entailed… 😳

Relationship Status: This one instantly took me all the way back to Week 1 of Beginning Arabic and Maha in the Red Book (#this is the way my mind works 😂)—except I am not forlorn about my single status.

Current Obsession: The scent of honeysuckle filling the “spring” air?

Last Thing You Googled: Googled proper, no clue. Last search was trying to find a link for Maha above…without luck.

Tagging: Since @persevereforahappyending tagged me in the other one, I’m returning the favor here 😂 And other regular appearances on my dashboard, @anakinftpadme @whyislenaluthorsohot And to quote EvilPenguinRika when tagging me, “Feel free to do this if you wanna :'D And whoever else who sees this and wants to do it too, go for it!”

#tag meme #about the author of this blog #this is the way my mind works

66 notes · View notes

afterdarkprincess · 8 months ago

Text

I love you (it’s ruining my life)

Pairing: Sami/Jey Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,372 Summary: Sami and Jey realize they're in the same hotel and meet up.

Third and final part to the i love you (it's ruining my life) series!

fic inspo started with @motherknuckers forever grateful for this idea 🥰

tag squad: @feelschicken @harmshake @elementaldoughnut12 @southerngirl41 @imabillyami and @jeysbvck

AO3 Link

Part One - am i allowed to cry?

Part Two- fuck it if i can't have him

---

Sami feels himself go still in the bed.

It’s gotta be Jey texting him. The Jey who he just used in his dirty fantasies to get off in a fit of desperation.

Dare he look?

He didn’t respond to Jey’s first text, as touched as he’d been by the gesture he really didn’t know what to say. He’d resigned himself to maybe just giving the message a like in the morning, but now…

He really should flip the phone over, close his eyes and go to sleep. His alarm will go off sooner rather than later, and Kevin is unbearable whenever he tries to sleep in. He’s already pushing it with the late hour.

But his curious hopeful heart can’t resist.

Juicy Uce 3:04am- “You still up? Can’t sleep.”

Sami rubs a hand over his eyes. He’s gotta be seeing things, there’s just no way- except somehow when he opens his eyes the message is still there.

His heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest. This makes no sense,

His feet hit the floor, fingers tightly clenched around his phone as he makes his way back to the bathroom, shutting the door to block out the mocking noise of Kevin’s snores.

He takes a moment to splash some water on his face, trying to calm his heart rate.

Sami taps his fingers against the countertops anxiously, staring at Jey’s contact open on his screen. How on earth is he supposed to respond to that? What does he say? “Yeah I’m up plagued by thoughts of you?”

He sighs out a heavy breath, scratching the back oh his neck. If he’s gonna risk talking to Jey like this he might as well break all the floodgates.

He presses the call button with his thumb.

——

Jey tilts his phone to see the screen, and he’s surprised to see an incoming call rather than a text reply.

His palms start to sweat. He’s alone in the room, he has no real reason not to answer the call.

Fuck it, why not?

He accepts the call and hits the speaker button, letting the phone rest against his chest, cool glass against warm skin.

The call connects, and for a moment there’s just silence. Jey begins to suspect that maybe Sami dialed him by accident. Maybe he rolled over onto his phone or something, this was such a bad idea…

But then.

“Jey? Um, you there?”

Sami sounds unsure and nervous, but just hearing his voice puts Jey’s mind at ease.

“Yeah!” He catches himself, too eager, too energetic for the late hour. He clears his throat. “Yeah, M’here.”

Sami sighs on the other end of the line and he tries not to read into that too much. “Good, good.” He pauses again. “So…what’s up?” His tone sounds cheerful but Jey’s not buying it.

“Dunno, Sami. You called me.” He can’t help but smirk at the ceiling when Sami makes a noise in protest.

“Yeah but- you texted me!! You said you couldn’t sleep!”

Jey laughs, probably louder than he should in the quiet of the room. “M’just fuckin’ wit you, Uce. Chill out.”

“Oh,” Sami giggles, and the sound warms Jey’s heart. “Oh okay. So… can’t sleep huh?”

“Yeah- I don’t know, tried to work out to get tired but no dice.”

There’s another pause before Sami finally responds. “Jey- hm. I mean, you know I’m always here for you but uh… why did you text me tonight? I sorta thought that you hated me now.”

He flinches, his chest aching at Sami’s words. It’s his own fault, he’s given Sami no indication to think anything else of him as of late.

“Just been thinkin’ bout you a lot tonight. I-“ He swallows thickly. “I’m sorry for how things went down between us. How things gotta be now.”

—

Sami’s gut reaction is to protest, to argue that Jey does have a choice, that their path is not set in stone.

But it feels like a moot point now. He’s said it before, and surely he’ll say it again. And really is that what he wants right now? To fight? It’s not what Jey needs to hear either.

“I’m sorry too. I know… I know this isn’t easy for you.” He bites at his lip. “Been thinking ‘bout you too.” It comes out rushed and half mumbled. Might be a blessing, maybe Jey didn’t hear him.

“What was that last part, Sami?”

Of course he won’t let him off the hook that easy.

“I uh- you’ve been on my mind tonight, that’s all.” He can feel the blush blooming across his face. Jey certainly doesn’t need to know exactly what he was thinking about.

There’s a tiny noise on the other end of the line that was so quiet he almost thinks he imagined it. Then Jey coughs.

“So uh- listen, this might sound crazy, but we both up right? What hotel you in, uce? Maybe we can get some waffles or sumthin?”

Sami’s heart feels like it can’t possibly beat any faster. “Drury Inn, off the highway.” He responds in one breath.

“Shut up,” He hears a smile in Jey’s voice, familiar and dear. “Me too- you alone?”

He shakes his head as if Jey can see him. “Nah, surprised you can’t hear Kev’s snores honestly.”

Jey laughs, “Wanna get outta there? We can talk in my room.”

“Gimme the room number- I’ll be right there.”

Jey paces the floor in his room after the line goes dead. He’d given Sami his room number. Sami was coming to his hotel room. Alone. In the middle of the night. This was such a bad idea.

The late hour was making him think stupid thoughts, that had to be it. Because the way Sami had sounded when he said he’d been thinking about Jey- well he dared to hope for a moment.

Two soft knocks come from the door, and Jey pauses, pinches his nose and takes one big breath to steady himself.

He crosses the room in a few strides, opening the door. He’s here. he’s here.

Solid and real in front of him stands Sami Zayn. He’s swimming in a hoodie, and Jey prays that it’s not Kevin’s.

His face is an unreadable mystery, his smile not quite reaching his eyes in the carefree manner he’s used to seeing, but it’s better than the pained looks of anguish that Jey’s become unfortunately accustomed to over the last month.

He’ll take what he can get.

“Ey man, c’mon in.”

Sami nods and enters the room. The door shuts behind them and the sound causes Jey to wince.

It’s a double room, Sami sits on the undisturbed bed precariously and Jey mirrors the action.

They don’t say anything for a moment, but Jey can’t take his eyes off him and Sami’s eyes stare back just as intensely.

“Fuck this,” Jey stands suddenly and gets into Sami’s space.

Sami stands, and he can’t stand the face he’s making, like he’s prepared for a fight.

“Jey-“

He doesn’t get out another word, Jey’s hands are on either side of his face, careful, so careful not to hurt, just to hold.

Jey doesn’t think, doesn’t allow the doubts and the everything to cloud what he’s feeling right now. And all he wants to do is kiss this silly man in front of him.

So he does.

The short walk from Sami and Kevin’s room to Jey’s gave Sami just enough to begin panicking.

There was a sick feeling, guilt from earlier bubbling up in his stomach and washing over him like waves.

He stared at the door for longer than he should have. He tries to find his bravery again. Jey wouldn’t have invited him over if he didn’t want to see him. Though Jey also didn’t know all the dirty things that Sami things about, maybe he would reconsider if-

Sami banishes the thought with a quick slap to his forehead, girds his loins and knocks on the door.

A moment goes by, then he hears Jey’s footfalls from within before the door swings open.

Hearing Jey over the phone had been one thing- now being in his presence, seeing him like this in the flesh? Sami fights to smile, keeping his mouth shut for fear of what might come tumbling out of his mouth if he actually starts talking.

The light is low in the room, he shuffles to the free bed opposite the one where Jey had clearly been trying to sleep- this was such a bad idea. This was such a bad idea.

Jey sits across from him, and just looks. Just looks at Sami, staring with those beautiful doe eyes that have plagued Sami’s dreams and waking thoughts for months. He can’t fathom what is face is doing, he fights for neutrality but, but then Jey is standing- god his lovesick guilt is all over his face, isn’t it? Jey’s disgusted with him, ready to throw him right back out into the hallway with a new set of bruises for his troubles. Sami stands, breathing Jey’s name, a half-hearted plea for what he doesn’t even know.

But Jey does something he would have never expected.

His hands find both sides of Sami’s face, softly cradling him in their warmth. He’s so close suddenly, face only inches away from Sami’s own, and he can smell the sweet coconut scent of Jey’s body oil.

And then…

Jey is kissing him.

All of the noise in Sami’s head goes completely silent. He can’t think, can’t move, can’t breathe because Jey is kissing him and it’s everything he’s imagined but better because he’s real and solid and here.

By the time Sami processes what has just happened, Jey is backing away with panic in his eyes- why is he moving away?

“Jey, wait- please!” He’s across the room, as far as he can physically get, pacing and avoiding Sami’s eyes.

But Sami won’t let it end like this, no when he’s so close to getting what he wants. He’s become an expert at understanding the enigma that is Jey Uso over the last few years, knows how to read his body language that is just as complex as any of the other languages Sami knows.

And he can speak it back.

Sami launches himself across the room, catching Jey off guard, crowding into his space, pushing him against the wall.

“Please don’t run from me again,” he barely gets out before smashing their lips together.

Jey melts underneath him, all the tension bleeding out of his body before he starts kissing back ferociously.

They kiss like they fight, a messy violent dance, semi-choreographed with some slight improvisation along the way. Their noses knock together, their teeth clash. It’s visceral and it’s perfect.

“I’m sorry-“ He gasps for breath between bouts. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond at first- it was like I was dreaming all over again.”

Jey laughs hot breath into Sami’s mouth. “Oh so you been dreamin’ ‘bout me huh?”

Sami laughs a little maniacally, grabbing Jey’s curls and biting at Jey’s lower lip. “Oh you have no idea.”

Jey’s hips jump against his- too much, not enough. “You know this- uh, ah- this ain’t what I had in mind, invitin’ you over.” He kisses Sami again anyway. “Wanted to talk-“

Sami wraps his arms around Jey’s waist, pulling him back towards the bed keeping him close, afraid to let more than a few inches come between them now.

He turns them around before they reach the bed, letting Jey fall back into the rumpled blankets before climbing over him, breathing hard as he catches his breath.

He sees the evidence that Jey is just as affected by their actions as he is, his dick throbbing painfully in his briefs.

“Okay- we could uh- talk now, or uh-“

Jey cuts him off with a kiss before grinning. “Later, Sami. Tryin’ to kill me here?”

Relief floods through him and he drops his weight to cover Jey completely with his body and connect their lips once more.

Jey’s mind can’t quite keep up with everything that’s happened, but he’s certainly not going to question anything.

Sami had led him to the bed, now held himself up overtop of Jey, bracketing him on all sides, and Jey can barely think beyond the throb of his dick in his sweats.

Sami looks nervous again- the way he did when Jey let him into his room, that faraway haunted look that he hates to see mar Sami’s features. He promises that they’ll take later, and that’s enough for Sami to smile again

Jey kisses him, with more depth and fervor than before, his lips parting to let his tongue dart out to taste Sami’s lips.

He runs his tongue over the bitten rough texture like a balm, like maybe he could cure Sami of the habit with his touch alone. A foolish thought. Sami lets him in, breath mixing between their mouths until they breathe and move as one.

His dick becomes impossible to ignore, spurred on just by the friction against Sami’s thigh.

Jey comes up for air with a plea, “Clothes- Sami, please.” In any other context he would be embarrassed by the tone in his voice, but he doesn’t have a spare fuck to give right now.

Sami moves, pulling him up by the arm. Jey yanks his own shirt over his head and yeets it in the general direction of his bag. He smiles like a shark and grabs Sami’s shirt by the collar and tears it from his body.

“Hooollly shit,” Sami says, but Jey’s eyes are glued to the rise and fall of his chest and the blush that covers his exposed chest. He’s seen Sami shirtless a million times, but never like this, never where he could touch. He puts his hand on Sami’s pec, letting his fingers brush through the soft hair before his thumb brushes against a puffy pink nipple. He rubs a slow circle and listens in fascination as Sami’s breathy moans get higher in pitch.

Jey thinks he could stay just like this for hours, but his dick throbs for attention and there are so many other things he wants to learn.

He lets up on his assault to Sami’s left nipple, and shoves his shorts down to free his erection at last, and Sami’s eyes go wide.

“Jey- are you, we don’t have to do anything like that tonight- I want you to be sure…”

He fights the desire to rolls his eyes. “I look unsure to you, Sami?”

Sami laughs, full and warm, letting his forehead fall to rest against Jey’s. “Guess you got a point there- I’m just, I’m so happy.”

The smile on his face is irresistible, and Jey has no choice but to kiss him again, running a thumb over Sami’s cheek.

When he has the ginger good and distracted, Jey darts his hand down to divest Sami of his shorts too.

“We even now,” Jey grins.

Sami giggles- somehow now being here with Jey, naked as the day they were born, he feels light and free. Like all his worries are miles away where they cannot touch him.

“Jey, kiss me please.” He breathes, and his request is fulfilled when he gets an armful of Samoan lips-first invading his space.

They fall backwards, tumbling into the sheets. Jey’s lips brush against his, sweet, addictive, each kiss leaving him craving another, wanting more.

He licks into Jey’s mouth, savoring the taste of him.

Sami does his best to catalogue each sensation, committing all of this to memory. Each sensation, the way Jey smells and tastes, the soft feel of his skin.

He detaches from Jey’s mouth with some difficulties and moves to kiss him anywhere he can reach, licking under the line of Jey’s beard before moving to his neck. He nips lightly at Jey’s earlobe, just next to the gold hoop he wears.

Jey lets out a broken moan and it’s music to his ears. “Let me hear you make that sound again.” He sucks the earring and the sensitive lobe into his mouth, feasting on the noises it brings out of his lover.

Their dicks slide together, slick with precum, and Sami can’t help but lean into the sensation. He holds onto Jey, tightly gripping a thigh and shoulder as he rocks their erections together, starting a steady pace that feels like heaven.

“Jey- fuck, feels so good, you feel so good-“

Sami’s silenced by Jey’s mouth on his, delving in as they grind against each other.

One of Jey’s hands snakes down to wrap around both of their lengths, holding them together in his wide grip and adding to the friction.

“Gettin’ close, Sami.” Jey breathes into the small space between their lips.

Sami fights for each delicious breath. “Ah, me too. Wanna feel you.” He joins his hand with Jey’s, spurring them both towards the edge.

He can feel Jey’s muscles tighten, feels how he’s effecting this man that he’s longed for, ached for for so long. It’s enough to swell the hot pit of desire and send him shattering in release.

Jey groans beautifully and his cum joins the mess on their hands.

Before he can really think about it, Sami pulls their hands to his mouth, letting his mouth wrap around Jey’s fingers, lapping up their combined release.

Jey’s lips part, staring at him in wonder. “Fuckin’ hell, Sami- you tryin’ to kill me?”

Sami licks at his lips after he deems their hands clean, and can’t help but giggle, sending Jey into a fit of laughter with him.

They collapse into the bed, Jey’s arms wrapping around Sami as he takes the position of little spoon.

Jey buries his nose into Sami’s disheveled curls and lets out a long sigh.

Sami threads their fingers together and kisses the back of Jey’s palm.

“I can’t stay here tonight.”

Jey sighs again. “I know.”

“And I can’t just abandon course now, as much as I want to. Can’t exactly come back to the Bloodline- and Kevin…”

Behind him, he can feel Jey tense up. “What’s that fool got to do wit’ it?

Sami turns over to look him in the face. “Jey- you know it’s not like that with him. But he is my friend and I’m sure he won’t be thrilled, but that’s beside the point. Jey- we’ll have to fight each other. And I don’t know how often we’ll even get to see each other.”

“So?”

“So I’m saying this will be difficult as long as you remain with the Bloodline. Jey, you know how I feel about it-“

Jey lays his hand gently against Sami’s face. “i know, Sami. I know.” He shakes his head as he speaks. “It ain’t easy to leave your own family neither, but-“

“But?”

“I’m willin’ to try. You been right, ‘bout a lot of things. Can’t stand the way Big Uce been acting lately. And Solo been damn near brainwashed, does whatever Roman says.” Those big eyes stare into Sami with full force as Jey takes Sami’s hand again, returning the gesture by kissing their combined palms. “N’ I wanna try this with you.”

Sami’s chest feels ready to burst. “Really? It’ll be really hard, we’ll have to keep things secret for now, until you’re ready to leave- are you sure?”

Jey nods, “It’ll be worth it. We gon’ figure it out.”

He feels his eyes getting heavy, it has to be close to morning at this point, and he really needs to get back to his room before Kevin wakes from his beauty sleep.

“We will,” He murmurs, letting his forehead rest against Jey’s again. “I should go.”

Jey steals a quick kiss.

��Jey,”

Then another.

Sami giggles. “Jey!”

Another.

“C’mon, not fair.”

“Wut?” Jey’s grinning like a mad man between pecks.

“You’re killing me here, Uce.” Sami pushes at his shoulder playfully.

Jey ducks in for one more but he makes a face. “Ugh no, you can’t call me Uce no more bruh.”

Sami can’t stop laughing. “No Uce, but bruh is okay?”

“Yeah bruh,” Jey’s smile is just infectious, but Sami rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I’ve changed my mind- you’re weird actually.” Sami pulls a frowning face, but he can barely keep the act together.

“Really?” Jey’s head tilts and he looks like a puppy and Sami can’t handle it.

“No,” He can’t help but kiss him again, and Jey wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him in again. for a longer kiss. “No, Jey! I have to go, for real.”

Sami breaks them apart, soft smile never leaving his face as he extricates himself from the bed. He looks around for his shirt as Jey just watches him from the bed. He’d burn the whole world down to keep this expression on Jey’s face, but.

“Are you sure?” He pauses with his shirt in hand. “Are you sure about this? I mean you know I want you to get away from Roman, but you don’t- I mean am I worth all this?” Sami worries at the skin of his thumb.

Jey frowns, sitting up to take Sami’s hand in his again. “Yeah, Sami. You are, for real.”

Sami feels the tension bleed out of his shoulders. He has no other option than to trust Jey, and for better or worse, he trusts Jey implicitly.

The expression on Jey’s face changes, and he looks down at their connected hands.

“I’m in this Sami- I’m tired of lyin’ to myself all the time, pretendin’ none of this matters. I been thinkin’ bout it a lot actually- and I’m serious about this, ‘bout me and you.” He still doesn’t look back at Sami’s eyes. “Are you?”

Sami takes Jey’s chin in his hand, tilts his face so Jey has no choice but to meet his gaze. “I am, Jey. It scares me how much sometimes.” He drops a kiss to the worry lines on Jey’s forehead.

Jey nods, “Okay- yeah, good. You still got my number right?”

Sami tugging his shirt on and shoving his feet into his shoes, nods. “Yeah, I’ll get in touch whenever I can get away from Kevin. Maybe I can talk it out with him in time, get him to understand. He can be a pain in the ass, but he means well.”

“Whatever you say,” Jey makes a face. “But Jim just as bad, and Solo been watchin’ me like a hawk since I been back.”

He nods, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “We’ll figure it out- we will.” He takes another step toward the door, and Jey gets up suddenly.

“Wait, Sami-“

“Jey-“ His hands are on Sami’s face again, and he crushes their lips together.

“I love you,” Jey’s eyes are wide, staring at Sami as he tries to process the words that he said. “Not like my brothers, not anymore, hell maybe even not back then. You ain’t gotta say it back, I just…”

It feels unreal, like the mirages that plagued him earlier, but Jey is real, solid beside him. Being vulnerable in ways Sami couldn’t have imagined.

He rubs his thumb against the soft skin of Jey’s cheek, uses the momentum to card his fingers through Jey’s hair soothingly.

“Jey, I’ve loved you for… I don’t even know how long at this point. I couldn’t stay in the Bloodline, I wasn’t strong enough to endure what Roman put us through, not like you. But you were the reason I stayed as long as I did. It broke me to leave you there alone, if my hand hadn’t been forced…”

Jey brushes their lips again. “No use thinkin’ bout it now.”

Sami nods. “But if you’re worried I’m not in this as much as you, you couldn’t be further from the truth. I love you Jey, so much that it’s kind of ruining my life.” He laughs in spite of himself.

“Well at least we on the same page with that,” Jey smiles and Sami can’t help but feel hope. That maybe somehow all of this will end up okay.

He kisses Jey one more time. “I really do need to go,” He checks his phone in his pocket, it’s nearly 4:30 in the morning. “I’m gonna hate myself in a few hours.”

“Me too,” Sami sighs. “Plus I gotta go deal with Kevin’s snoring.”

Jey raises one eyebrow. “You sure you ain’t wanna stay here?”

“I don’t know what would be worse, the snores or an interrogation if I’m not in bed when he gets up.”

“Fair- he can be uhh… loud.”

Can’t argue with that. He nods, “Yeah, that he can. Okay,” Just one more kiss can’t hurt. “I’m gonna go now.” One more brush of lips.

Jey steps forward toward the door, giving Sami no choice but to walk backward as they exchange short pecks. “Gotta get my hit here, Sami.”

Sami grabs the handle of the door, and gives Jey his best “serious” face. “Goodnight, love.”

Jey smiles a big cheesy grin. “Night, Sami.”

The door shuts, leaving him with the image of Jey’s toothy grin to warm him all the way back to his room.

—

Jey stares at the closed door for a long moment after it closes behind Sami. He sighs, just trying to process everything.

It’s late, and he really will hate himself when he has to get back up in less than 2 hours. He heads back towards the bed, turning out the lights before crashing back onto the bed.

He catches a faint whiff of Sami’s scent still on the sheets and fights a wave of sadness that threatens to wash over him. Sami loves him, they’re going to make this work. He has to be okay with missing him.

Jey checks his instagram reflexively, swiping through stories then his feed. The clock mocks him and his barely open eyes, and he’s just about ready to put his phone down and go to bed.

h. uce 4:35am- ily, go to bed lol

He tap backs the heart emoji, and puts his phone on the bedside, and lets himself drift off to sleep.

----

Hope you enjoyed!!! I really enjoyed writing this series 🥰

#samijey #jeysami #jey uso x sami zayn #wwe fanfiction #sami zayn #jey uso

29 notes · View notes

disappointedcreeper · 1 year ago

Text

pfp by @achillez-on-pawz

DO NOT SEND US ASKS ABOUT YOUR FUNDRAISER, IF YOU WANT US TO REBLOG YOUR FUNDRAISER POST TAG US IN IT, OTHERWISE WE WILL IGNORE IT

Welcome to our blog! Dunno how to transition into it so I'll put our intros below. (BTW we haven't figured out many defining traits to differentiate each other yet)

Blue (the one writing this :3) they/them, the host (meaning I'll be fronting most of the time)

Moss: She/her, ace lesbian, she likes saying hi. (Hehe can't wait for them to see this >:3 -blue) (lol -moss)

Leaf: they/them, introject of a Undertale/Deltarune oc that is basically the player with more backstory and whatnot (more of a character than some external force, and eventually gets a body of their own) I REALLY miss the people I knew...

Sylvie: they/she, sylveon, sometimes Eevee (struggles with words while Eevee) Has a wordmoji blog, with requests here

Feel free to call either of us disappointedcreeper (or some shortened variation ex: DC, creeper, etc.) We do prefer if you refer to us using out individual names (dw tho we won't be mad/upset, or I wouldn't have put this here)

Our alterhuman identities

This was WOEFULLY outdated, gonna put info in our individual intros later

DNI

homophobes, transphobes, TERFs, anti-alterhuman, etc.

NSFW blogs

don't talk to us r ask us about syscorse please. We don't want to be involved, and don't owe anyone any knowledge about our origin (if we even knew.) We don't care about origins (if that wasn't alr obvious) and if you are gonna be rude about it please just save both us and you some time and block us.

anything else should be fine as long as you aren't just here to be mean

Tags we use

#blue yaps - when blue is posting

#moss chirps - #moss yaps - when moss is posting

#❤️ - #points and hearts come out - #leaf ACTs - for when leaf is posting (used in different circumstances) (mostly when I feell like it)

#sylvie posting - Sylvie posting idk what else to say

#growls - vent posts

#reblogs - self explanatory

#average music fox - posts about our music

#asks - generally what we tag asks with (unless we forget)

#our art - art we made (our older stuff is tagged #my art)

#shadows over aethia - posts relating to the game were gonna make

will add more as we start using them

#pinned post

62 notes · View notes

thereal-brockthrockmorton · 7 months ago

Text

WELCOME DANCERS!

I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN SIT ON MY PHONE ALL DAY AND TALK TO LITTLE STRANGERS! THIS SHOULD BE FUN!

(ooc under cut)

Hi! Charles here! I know what you're thinking... woah! another ask blog?! you're doing too much, brah! And to that I say. Yes! I am doing to much! But I love Brock and im having fun! Plus, I also maybe hope to spread my Discocube propaganda, but who's to say! Mwehehehe.....

ANYWHOOZLES!

Here's the run down of the blog. Things to ask. things not to ask. you know how it goes.

RULES!:

No NSFW. I'm a minor. Don't be flickin weird bro.

Don't spam my inbox. I'm not gonna answer shit like "hi" and "how are you", that's boring. Gimme juicy stuff.

I'll try to do drawn responses for some, but as to not burn myself out so fast, I'll also just have in character text sent.

I'm cool with RP interactions! 100%! However, the way I hc Brock may not be how you expect it to be, so my responses may not be what you want.

Please please please please PLEASE just always keep in mind that I AM A REAL PERSON. And anything hurtful or weird will not be tolerated. I have the right to delete asks from anyone.

COOL THINGS TO ASK!:

"What's your opinion on [character]?"

Questions pertaining to his hobbies

His past (its angsty, ye be warned)

General compliments

Roleplays!

ABOUT BROCK:

This is Brock. Hi. He's a retired model, millionaire, and what I mean by "somewhat immortal" is that he still ages and will die of old age, but he cannot be killed by other means. If he does "die" he'll just wake up the next day, and won't even remember what happened. Thus, meaning he has no idea he can't die. It's some weird curse pertaining to the elevator.

Brock is VERY. Loud, so all of his responses will be SENT IN CAPS. ALL CAPS. LIKE THIS. HE WILL NEVER TYPE IN LOWERCASE, BECAUSE HE PHYSICALLY CANNOT TURN HIS VOICE DOWN.

Annnnnnd um. Yeah. He has like an angsty background or whatever I guess I dunno.

Anyway, that's all you get to know. Anything else you wanna know, you'll just have to send an ask :)

BTW!!! THIS BLOG IS IN RELATION TO

@geometricgiovanni

@fourcornereddylan

so expect interaction with them lolsies

Yep!!! That's abt it!!! Enjoy i guess! I'm really excited I love Brock sosososo much... giggles so joyously....

Oh yeah, tagging system:

brock answers : he answers an ask

brock rambles : misc posts not from an ask

brock ooc : when its an ooc post

#brock answers #brock rambles #brock ooc #brock throckmorton #brock regretevator #regretevator #art #regretevator fanart #rp blog #regretevator rp #ask blog

39 notes · View notes

vodika-vibes · 10 months ago

Text

**Chapter 1**

Summary: When Commander Wolffe is forced into early retirement after losing an eye in a terrorist attack, he thinks his life is over. However, when his twin brother volunteers him to help a younger cousin adjust to life outside the military, he doesn’t fight as much as he normally would have. Still when his younger cousins, Rex and Gregor, told him that they signed up to play security for Doctors Without Borders, he genuinely thought that it was going to be the easiest job he’s ever had. Right up until the plane falls out of the sky and they end up stranded on an island that doesn’t follow any of the rules as he knows them.

Characters: Commander Wolffe, Captain Rex, Captain Gregor, F!Reader character called Bumblebee or Bee in story

Genre: Adventure, Supernatural, some romance (because I'm me)

Word Count: 2394

Warnings: None, so far

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I wasn't going to start this story until I finished my event stuff, but apparently I had an idea and needed to get it down.

This is the worst.

The absolute worst.

He should be home, in the barracks, looking after his brothers in the 104th. He should be standing next to his general as they prepare for the next push against the Seppies.

But no. He’s here, miles away from where he should be, waiting for the tiny plane to finish getting loaded for the last stretch of his, and his cousins, journey.

Wolffe can’t even bring himself to enjoy the scenery, why bother, it’s not like he’s going to be here long anyway. He leans against the back of the bench that he’s sitting on, his gaze flickering around the airstrip until he spies Rex and Gregor, talking with a pair of women near the building.

Good. So long as they’re not getting in trouble.

Not that he really expected them to. But as the oldest, he can’t help but look out for them.

Especially Gregor.

His cousin had healed very nicely from the injury that nearly killed him. He’s still himself, the TBI doing very little to change his personality, but his memory is still spotty.

It’s one of the biggest reasons that he didn’t fight quite as hard as he normally would have when Fox volunteered him for the position. Besides, Doctors Without Borders is a respectable organization.

He could do worse.

Sure that his cousins are safe and aren’t wandering off to get mugged by someone who hates tourists, Wolffe casts his gaze back to the plane. And slowly his eyebrows raise when one of the doors open and a young woman hops out of the cockpit.

She looks familiar.

She looks very familiar.

He knows that jacket. He damn well better, he was the one who bought it in the first place.

He pushes to his feet and approaches the plane, and…there, on the side of her neck, a bumblebee tattoo with a honeycomb behind it.

A grin crosses his face without his permission, “Well now, look who it is. Lieutenant Bumblebee, in the flesh.”

She turns, and a wide grin crosses her face, “Wolffe? What brings you to my corner of paradise?” She walks over to him and bumps her fist against his, “I thought ‘vacations are beneath you’.” She mocks.

“Yeah, yeah. They are. I got a job with Doctors Without Borders, with some of my cousins.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, “I heard that you were living in the lap of luxury, though. White sandy beaches and fruity little drinks with umbrellas-”

She laughs, “Does this look like retirement to you, Wolfy-boy?”

“Dunno, you always loved to fly more than anything else.” He folds his arms over his chest, “Seeing you with a plane doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Wolffe pauses, “You know, I did hear a rumor-”

Her smile becomes slightly strained, “That I was Dishonorably Discharged and slapped with a court martial? Cause that’s not a rumor.”

“Shit, really?” She doesn’t respond and Wolffe rolls his eyes, “Come on, Bee. It’s me. What happened?”

“Gross Insubordination.” She says with a sigh, “Look, after I was transferred from Koon, I was given to Krell.”

Wolffe inhales sharply.

“Yeah.” Her laugh is slightly bitter, understandably bitter, “Well, I took issue with how he treated the men under his command and I didn’t hesitate to tell him so. So I was grounded and slapped with a court martial. And by the time Krell was removed and arrested for abusing the men under his command, everything had taken a life of its own, so I just took the Dishonorable Discharge.”

“You could have fought it.”

“Could have.” Bee agrees, “Just…the way that some of the people I’ve known for years looked at me.” She sighs and pushes her hand through her hair, “There was no point. Luckily, Plo put in a good word for me here.”

“Good thing the General likes you.”

“Tell me about it. I could do far, far worse than being a pilot for an organization as well respected as this one.” She shrugs and glances at her clipboard, “Not to mention, they’re pretty good about making sure that my prosthetics are up to par-”

“Prosthetics? What prosthetics?” Wolffe asks, his gaze snapping down her body, “Since when do you need prosthetics?”

Bee arches a delicate brow and lifts the leg of her long pants, revealing a matte gray prosthetic leg. “Parting gift from Krell.” She pauses, “Or, well, that’s my guess. I was officially injured in combat. But I’m almost positive that there weren’t any seppies on that planet-”

She pauses and takes a deep breath, dropping the leg of her pants and gestures vaguely with her clipboard, as if to say well, what can you do.

As if Wolffe needed another reason to hate Krell. Life in prison is too good for him.

“Sorry, I didn’t know. No one told me.��

“Yeah, well. It’s not as if I had very many friends left behind after the Court Martial.” She shrugs, “Anyway, what happened to your eye?”

“That blunt, huh?”

“That blunt.”

“Seppies.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Wolffe releases a humorless laugh, “Seems like it.” He leans against a crate, “Officially, I was medically discharged. Technically, I’m on medical leave for the next six months.”

“General Koon favors you.”

“Don’t I know it.” Wolffe’s gaze drags across the crates of medical supplies and other supplies, “So, who all are you transporting.”

“Well, according to my manifest-” Bee flips to a back page, “You, Rex and Gregor-” She pauses, “Is blondie over there, Rex? Shit, last time I saw him he was still in high school.”

Wolffe grins, “He’s a Captain now.”

“Ugh, I feel old.”

“You feel old? How do you think I feel?”

Bee laughs, “That’s what you get for being one of the oldest.” She glances back at her manifest, “Anyway, I’m also transporting a new nurse, her name is Raya Valencia. And a mechanic on loan from the GAR, Maty Wilson. Also, someone from the local government forced his way onto the manifest.”

“Mm, politics.”

“There’s no escaping it, I’m afraid.” Bee sets her manifest aside, “Anyway, someone will have to sit in the cockpit with me with the new addition.”

“Is that an offer, Bee?”

“What, you want a handwritten invitation?”

Wolffe laughs, “Hardly. I’ll be more than happy to sit up front with you. Maker knows we clearly have some catching up to do, LT.”

Bee grins at him, “Hardly my fault you went and got promoted to Commander and stopped associating with us minions.”

“Hey, I’ve always had a soft spot for you minion-y types.”

“Yeah, yeah,” There’s a laugh in her voice, “Beat it, Wolfy-boy. I have work to do. We’ll be lifting off in thirty.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” He tosses his bag over his shoulder and meanders on over to his cousins, as Bee turns to shout at a worker in a language he kind of recognizes.

It’s damned good to see her. Though it is a shame to hear about what happened to her.

“Making friends, Wolffe?” Rex asks with an arched brow.

“Chatting with an old friend,” Wolffe replies, “One that you know. You’ve met Bee before.”

Rex blinks, twice, and then his head snaps towards the plane, “Wait Bee? That Bee? The one we met at your graduation?”

“The one and the same.”

Rex stares in her direction, “Small world-”

“Tell me about it.”

“What happened between you two anyway?” Gregor asks, “If I remember correctly, you two were a thing-”

“Drop it.” Wolffe frowns at them, and then he sighs, “We were never a thing. I chickened out before I could ask her. And then I was promoted and it wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

“Well, she’s not in the military anymore-” Rex prods with a grin.

“Drop. It.”

“Okay, okay.” Rex holds his hands up, “Sorry. There’s no need to get snippy.”

Wolffe opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when Bee jogs over, “Alright Boys, and Girls and both and neither,” She says as she claps her hands, “The Airstrip is needed for an emergency medevac so we’re hauling out of here early. Get your stuff on board and make sure everything is secured.”

“Copy that, LT.” Rex says with a cheerful salute.

“Don’t you sass me, Rexy. I remember you as a pimply high schooler.”

“Yes, but I outgrew that. See, pimple free.” His grin widens, “You, however, are still short.”

“Get!” Bee shouts as she points at the plane, and Rex, laughing, hurries past her. And then she turns her glare on Wolffe, “How is he just as obnoxious now as he was when he was a kid?”

“It’s just his personality. Sorry, Bee.”

Bee scowls at him and then hurries off to go and find the politician, probably.

Wolffe shakes his head and joins his cousins at the plane, where he promptly smacks Rex across the back of the head, “You piss her off and I’m the one who pays for it, how’s that fair?”

Rex, for his part, doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. Which only serves to make Wolffe more annoyed with him. Still, he’s mature enough to let the situation settle as everyone climbs on the plane.

Wolffe stows his bag under some netting, and then climbs into the co-pilot’s seat, while making sure that everyone else is strapped in properly. He’s not so worried about Rex or Gregor, but the two civvies might need some help.

And then Bee is back, with an older man in tow. He’s wearing a nice suit, nicer than anything Wolffe has seen anyone wearing since he arrived here, and he’s holding a cloth over his mouth and nose.

“My dear,” The old man says in a raspy smoker’s voice, and Wolffe doesn’t even have to look at Bee to know that she rolled her eyes at the diminutive pet name, “Surely there’s someplace…private for me to sit?”

“Nope.” Bee replies, “Small transport vessel. No private rooms.” She points to an empty seat across from Gregor, next to the door, “Sit there.”

“Well, I suppose the door is the best seat.” He muses as he sits down and only fastens the belt around his waist.

“You need to fasten the-” Gregor starts.

“Young man, I know what I’m doing.” The older man interrupts with a sniff.

Bee rolls her eyes again and lightly claps Gregor on the shoulder, “Don’t worry about it.” She moves through the aisle, taking a moment to make sure that everything is secured, and then she moves into the cockpit and pulls the door shut behind her.

She tosses Wolffe a lopsided grin, and offers him the spare headset, “I know you don’t fly much anymore, Commander, but surely you can co-pilot for one flight?”

Wolffe chuckles and takes the headset, pulling it on, “Well, I suppose I’d better.” He leans back in his seat and he watches as she effortlessly goes through the pre-flight check.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the plane is in the air, and pulling away from the airfield. And Bee activates her radio, “Alright everyone, as of now, our flight will take three hours, we’re taking a circuitous route to avoid a storm-”

She’s interrupted when the radio from the back crackles to life, “Absolutely not! I refuse to spend more time in this tin can than I have to. Take a shorter route or I’ll have your job!”

Bee glances at Wolffe, and then sighs, “As you wish. Then our flight will take an hour.” She cuts the radio, and glances at Wolffe, “This is going to go horribly.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky?” Wolffe offers.

Bee just sighs, and turns her gaze out the front window, “We won’t.”

Wolffe wakes with a pained groan. His head is throbbing.

Actually, his everything is throbbing. Including his eyelashes.

His eyes crack open and the sun, high overhead, nearly blinds him.

Wait. Sun?

Wolffe opens his eyes properly. The top of the plane is gone. He’s still strapped to his seat, luckily, and he still seems to be in the cockpit, but the roof is gone.

“Bee?” He, painfully, turns his head to the side, looking towards the pilot’s seat. Bee is still strapped in her seat, her head lolled to her chest, blood dripping from a wound on her temple. “Bee!”

She groans at his voice, “Stop yelling,” Bee’s eyes crack open and she groans, “Ow…”

“What happened?” Wolffe asks, “Do you remember?”

“I was ordered to take a shortcut, and then-”

The storm.

The clouds came from nowhere. One moment there were clear skies, and then it was like flying through a hurricane. Wolffe had been forced to actually co-pilot to help Bee keep the plane under control.

“-the door ripped off,” Wolffe remembers, vague memories of the various consoles flaring to life in front of him as the side door opened.

“Which would have caused a pressure imbalance,” Bee agrees, as she unfastens her harness and falls out of her seat, “Which would lead to-” She gestures to where the roof used to be. “You okay?”

“I think my everything is bruised.” Wolffe says as he pulls his own harness off and reaches for the door separating the cockpit from the rest of the plane.

“Better bruised than dead,” Bee replies logically as she adds her weight to the door. Together, they push the door open.

Rex and Gregor are unconscious, but clearly alive. As are the two civvies, Raya and Maty. The politician is missing.

“We’re missing one,” Wolffe notes as he checks over his cousins.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll find him.” Bee says, “he wasn’t wearing his harness.”

Wolffe glances at the ripped seat belt and silently concedes that she’s probably right. “We need to get them off the plane.”

“Yeah. Let’s make a path first, make sure we’re not bringing them into something more dangerous.” Bee says. “We have plenty of equipment, at least.” She adds with a wry smile.

“Small blessings.” Wolffe agrees, “Come on, Bee. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

He walks over to where the door used to be, and he hops out, with Bee hot on his heels. With luck, they’ll find someplace safe nearby.

With luck, they’ll only be here for a couple of days.

Wolffe isn’t going to hold his breath, though. He’s never been very lucky.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #commander wolffe #captain rex #captain gregor #the wolf's pack

36 notes · View notes

honing-skills-for-the-end · 10 months ago

Text

[daily click reminder]

Hello and welcome to my Choir!

I have many names but you may call me Hope, (they/them), I am interested in a bunch of things, usually on the creative side.

Some media I'm interested in :) ↧

Arcana Twilight ✨

Twisted Wonderland 🪄

Undertale/Deltarune ❤️

Lego Monkie Kid 🐒

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss 😈

YTTD 🧣

Mononoke 2007

Epic: The Musical is making me want to go back to my animatic era.

I am currently working on a Arcana Twilight fanfic and Beneath the Brine!

I do art! Fanart and maybe I'll post more original art one day. Please feel free to request some doodles from me! Often I draw only doodles and rarely full on illustration. Have some examples!

Yep. I might touch this up over the months/years.

No NSFW allowed here. I'm a minor.

And I've decided to create some tags for mwah self, for organization purposes:

#TheInevitableArts #TheInevitableReblogs #TheInevitableAsks #the inevitable words

I'm not changing the tags to fit in the the new theme I'm too lazy for that.

Down here I'll list more stuff I've seen and liked, haven't really peeked at the fandoms the much tho-

ORV, Saiki K, Mob Psycho 100, the Hoyoverse, Bendy, FNAF, Hollow knight, Sky: children of the light. Ayakashi: RR —I should install it again- god why was HE my favorite???— Obey me —but I just played the game for the sake of pretty cards, dunno much about basically anything else— Alien stage, Hunter X Hunter, the Magnus archives. The Garden of Banban. Chainsaw man. Gravity Falls. More to be added.

#blog intro #traditional art #art #artwork #artists on tumblr #arcana twilight #arcana twilight sirius #twisted wonderland #undertale #deltarune #lmk #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #yttd #didgital art #the inevitable words #theinevitablereblogs #theinevitableasks #theinevitablearts

50 notes · View notes

dragonsdendoodles · 8 months ago

Note

Dunno if this has been mentioned, but can we talk about (in A Map of Days) Enoch teasing Horace about gaining weight when he complains about the sodium content in pizza?? 😭

So that scene is... weird. To me. Because that part specifically I don't particularly know how to feel about, but the scene itself is my favorite scene in the whole series.

Talk of whatever the fuck was going on in this bit below the cut. Trigger warnings in the tags. (This one is long. There's a TLDR at the bottom.)

This is also a pretty tricky subject, so if I say something stupid, please please please correct me.

Before anything else: a very common interpretation of this scene is that it's hinting at Horace having an eating disorder. I am not here to tell you that interpretation is invalid, because it's not. It was not my interpretation, but it makes complete sense to me. I am not the right person to talk about that interpretation because while I do experience body dysmorphia and dysphoria, I have never had an eating disorder. So I'm not gonna do that.

My personal interpretation of this scene was that Horace is a picky eater and also has body issues and/or body dysmorphia, because those are both things I can relate to. That has always been my interpretation, and after several rereads that's what makes the most sense to me personally. I could be wrong. This is entirely my own interpretation and opinion.

Completely literally, this is what the full conversation tells the reader, before it's brought around to Millard being sent out for the second half of what we want to joke about:

Claire likes pizza.

Horace does not. He picks at it, commenting on the sodium content.

Enoch jokes that Horace doesn't want to get fat and laughs at the mental image.

Horace corrects him, claiming it's more about his clothes, then insults what Enoch's wearing, comparing his clothes to flour sacks.

Enoch specifies where he got his clothes in an effort to dispute Horace's point.

Claire further specifies Enoch's clothes came from a corpse.

Enoch makes a joke about getting clothes at funeral parlors.

Horace loses his appetite at Enoch's comment.

Miss Peregrine scolds Horace for not finishing his food. Horace reluctantly complies.

Horace expresses jealousy over Millard's peculiarity, stating that he could gain as much weight as he wanted without anyone noticing.

Millard clarifies that he's actually decently skinny.

The conversation moves on to Millard's lack of clothes.

If we go over it point by point and dig a little more into it, we get a few more details, which I think are relevant for the most part, so that's what I'm gonna do.

Claire likes pizza. Not particularly important to the scene other than starting it, but a cute detail nonetheless. We love cute details about Claire.

Horace does not. He picks at it, commenting on the sodium content. Horace does not like pizza and Horace does not like olives. (Agreed on the pizza point, but I will gladly take those olives if you don't want them, Horace.) The big thing here is that "There's more sodium in this than in the whole Dead Sea" comment, which isn't a concern someone his age should be having.

Enoch jokes that Horace doesn't want to get fat and laughs at the mental image. The problem child of the scene, because that's a really mean joke to make about someone, Enoch. Thus far the sodium comment makes it debatable how affected Horace would be about it, but still, not cool, man.

Horace corrects him, claiming it's more about his clothes, then insults what Enoch's wearing, comparing his clothes to flour sacks. This is the interesting part to me, because in seemingly trying to return Enoch's rude joke, Horace somewhat confirms that Enoch hit close enough to home to get under his skin. The specific line in question is, "That I'll bloat. My clothes are tailored just so, unlike the flour sacks you wear," which brings up another thing--these books have a habit of finding ways to call Enoch fat. Occasionally it'll be through deliberately calling something about him pudgy, and more often than not it's through stereotyping (you have twelve important characters and you picked the one established fat kid to be the one constantly talking about and stealing food? Really? Olive or Horace would've worked just as well, but whatever,) but this is one of the only times it comes from another character's mouth. This isn't just a comment, this is deflection. Horace is hurt by Enoch's comment, so he takes the first opportunity he gets to turn it back on him. This is deliberate. (We'll touch on this and the last point again later.)

Enoch specifies where he got his clothes in an effort to dispute Horace's point. He's focusing on the "flour sack" comment, not the implications of it or anything else about what Horace just said. It's just Enoch being Enoch and responding to Horace taking his bait. It reminds me of the scene in MPHFPC where Horace and Enoch suggest gross things for dinner to tease Olive and Claire. (Which I can confirm was them, but that's a different post.)

Claire further specifies Enoch's clothes came from a corpse. Again not super relevant, but not uncommon, fun fact. During the French Revolution when someone died they would immediately start taking the clothes off of them because I mean they're dead, they don't need it anymore. Just something I think is cool.

Enoch makes a joke about getting clothes at funeral parlors. Back to my MPHFPC point, Enoch has been established to be willing to say things just to freak people out. Just because Horace did it with him does not make him immune to it.

Horace loses his appetite at Enoch's comment. Reasonable reaction. I don't want to hear about leaking corpses when I'm already being forced to eat something I don't particularly enjoy. Like pizza.

Miss Peregrine scolds Horace for not finishing his food. Horace reluctantly complies. Classic parent move. It does suggest that the previous conversation isn't very concerning to her, because if it was she'd have said something during it, and she isn't someone who would hear that about one of her kids and just not care if it was something bad. Personally this lowers my concern level a bit, but I also like Miss Peregrine a lot more than other people I've talked to about this, so take that with what you will.

Horace expresses jealousy over Millard's peculiarity, stating that he could gain as much weight as he wanted without anyone noticing. The other concerning comment Horace makes. It all but confirms he is struggling with body image issues of some kind, though we don't know how severe they are. It confirms that Horace's reply to Enoch wasn't just about his clothes, and that if Enoch didn't hit the nail on the head he came pretty close.

Millard clarifies that he's actually decently skinny. This is something we kind of already knew, it just clarifies Millard's body type a bit more. In MPHFPC when he faints Enoch says it's because he "ain't as fit as he pretends to be," so now we have a little bit of detail on that. Regardless, I don't think it particularly helped the situation, but that's unfortunately a theme for Millard in this book.

The conversation moves on to Millard's lack of clothes.

Essentially, the big things we learn from this conversation are that Horace is insecure about his body and that he will tolerate Enoch poking fun at him about it.

The whole conversation, at least Enoch and Horace's contributions to it, revolve around their insecurities or lack thereof. Horace all but confirms he has body issues, and Enoch could honestly go either way: he doesn't react at all to Horace's jab back at him, he only focuses on the insult about his clothes. Enoch could not care how his body looks at all, or he could have avoided responding because Horace's comment had the same effect that his had. We can't tell from that alone, but I'm leaning towards the first option, because in the same book Horace comments on Olive eating a lot and Enoch jokes about her gaining weight as well. (Olive doesn't respond, Olive doesn't care.) His comment to Olive is more lighthearted than this, which I don't think it would be if it were also an insecurity of his.

The reason my feelings are conflicted about this scene is the way Horace and Enoch talk during it. This is played as a joke, it's very obviously meant to be comedic banter between two characters who are known to take shots at each other for the sake of comedy. That's all well and good, but this scene also proves that Enoch touched a decently sensitive nerve here, and Horace doesn't respond particularly uncomfortably. Yes, he deflects, but it reads as if they can only have this conversation because of how comfortable they are with each other. Horace avoids situations that make him uncomfortable, so if he was hurt too badly by Enoch joking about his body issues he'd have shut the conversation down instead of biting back. Enoch is also established in nearly all of the books to care very deeply about his loopmates and their feelings--if he genuinely hurt Horace, he'd have stopped completely, as shown with Bronwyn about Victor in MPHFPC. They've also known each other for what is implied to be nearly if not the whole time the initial Cairnholm loop was open, after seventy years being as close as they are shown to be they would know each others' insecurities. Enoch's significantly more likely to test Horace's limits, but he's absolutely smart enough to know what buttons he can and cannot push: look at the fight he has with Jacob at the end of AMOD. He cuts pretty deep at the end there, but had he not known (or cared) about Jacob's issues with Abe, he'd have said a lot more than, "You're not Abe, so stop trying to be," and he'd have said it a lot sooner.

It's a conversation that flows somewhat naturally and is portrayed a lot lighter than most people would take it, and arguably lighter than it probably should be. The way it reads to me is similar to how my boyfriend and I would talk and joke about our own insecurities, which leads me to believe they can only do this because they know they both know the boundaries. No boundaries appear to have been crossed here from both of their reactions, and this scene is all but forgotten when it's over. If anything this solidifies to me that the narrative wants us to interpret them as very close if not best friends, because a conversation like this wouldn't have happened otherwise. Horace doesn't let random people bully him. He threatened to bite someone, remember. He threatened to hit Jacob once too.

Personally, their exchange is far from a normal conversation, but I think that's the point. Narratively speaking, Enoch and Horace's friendship is fucking weird--you tell me why the nervous yet arrogant neat freak spends most of his time with the jerkwad who probably doesn't shower unless he's forced to and frequently bullies him. Their entire dynamic revolves around lovingly picking on your best friend. The whole point of this conversation is to strengthen that idea in the reader's mind, that they're close enough to be able to take these shots at each other without worrying they're going to hurt the other. Yes, Horace is implied to have gotten hurt, but at most it's only slightly. He doesn't react too much to it other than making a couple of concerning comments about his own image, which are pretty much immediately moved on from because at the end of the day it's really not all that important.

TLDR: It's a weird conversation about a touchy subject that is promptly forgotten about afterwards, which implies neither Horace nor Enoch think it's too big of a deal. Ultimately, it doesn't matter to anything other than giving us insight into Horace's character and Enoch and Horace's weird-ass friendship. It's not a comfortable conversation for anyone except them, and I'm pretty sure that's the whole point. The whole scene overall is still my favorite in the series, because I think it sets up what AMOD's going to be pretty nicely and my juvenile sense of humor means Enoch's singular allotted dick joke was a lot funnier than it probably should've been to me. (Sorry, Millard.)

#tw: brief discussion of eating disorders #tw: body shaming (thank you horace you're very nice to your best friend)#cw: discussion of body image insecurities #mphfpc #enoch o'connor #horace somnusson

23 notes · View notes