#i love sewing and love talking about it with others along with showing others how too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hxrukii · 2 months

Note

Heyy! Thanks for doing my request of Pinkie Pie! I loved it 😭 can i request another one? May i request Vil, Rook, Floyd, Azul and Lilia with a female Rarity reader? Again, thank you for the request 💞

❝I simply cannot let such a crime against fabulosity go uncorrected.❞

╭・๑ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︰ʚ Some of NRC student with a Rarity!Reader.‧₊˚✦

‧₊˚↷ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)┊❝ Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Lilia Vanrouge. ❞ ⸜⸜*

↷︰ʚ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ‧₊˚✦ Reader is female and is implied to be Yuu. Sorry if this took some time! There will be a part 2 of this because I made a mistake. Also I'm so sorry this took so long, Floyd and Azul's part troubled me so much, and it's probably shorter than the rest :')

╰・𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) ‧₊˚꒰ Spoiler for book 3. ɞ‧✦

Vil and Rarity!Reader will get along like two peas in a pod.

Vil absolutely loves talking about fashion with Rarity!Reader.

Would ask Rarity!Reader to make his clothes from time to time, and is very impressed with her talent and thinks that the clothes she makes are beautiful.

Thinks that Rarity!Reader's generosity is a great trait of hers but often reminds her to not be too generous, since most people at NRC could probably take advantage of that generosity.

Rarity!Reader helps Vil with giving advice to the rest of Pomefiore when he's to busy, Epel probably likes her very much since she's definitely less strict then Vil, and better at showing that she's doing this because she cares.

Since telekinesis isn't very known in Twisted Wonderland, most people don't know how to use it so Vil is very impressed by how Rarity!Reader is able to use sewing and cutting tools with ease through telekinesis.

Is also impressed by how Rairity!Reader is able to find gems very easily using her magic.

When Rarity!Reader gets carried away with other things instead of what she was working on, Vil is often the one to convince her to get back to work, to which she is grateful for.

Whenever Rarity!Reader gets stressed and starts eating buckets of ice cream, Vil usually gets her to take a break and eat healthier food while scolding her for eating to much ice cream and saying how it's not good for her health, Rarity!Reader knows he mean well though.

When Rarity!Reader mentioned that she used to work as a fashion designer back in her world, Vil proposed to help her start a business in Twisted Wonderland too, even proposed to help her promote her work.

Rarity!Reader is most likely to refuse saying that she wants to make a name for herself using her own hard work. And when she does, needless to say that Vil is very proud of her and will support her all the way.

"Darling? You need to take a break now, to much stress is not good for your health."

Rook would absolutely love Rarity!Reader.

The two of them would probably go on and on about everything that they find beautiful for hours on end. Vil will have to drag Rook away.

The two of them were probably talking about how inner beauty was just as important as what's on the outside.

When Rook learns that Rarity!Reader can also speak French? It's over, he's fallen in love all over again. Now most of your conversations will be in French, and the rest of NRC (- Vil probably) will be extremely confused on what the heck are those two saying.

When Rarity!Reader ask him to try on a clothing she made for him, he will be absolutely delighted and over the moon.

Rook probably feel in,ove with Rarity!Reader with how generous she is ngl. Will stop anyone who even tries to take advantage of her, not that Rarity!Reader can't defend herself since he once saw her punch someone in the face when they tried to hurt Grim, that's when he learned that Rarity!Reader was also skilled in martial art.

Probably admires Rarity!Reader's control on her magic a lot, often ask her questions on how telekinesis works and tips on how to be precise while using telekinesis.

When Rarity!Reader mentions that she used to be a fashion designer and used to have her own shop, Rook would probably be the first to encourage her to open a shop in Twisted Wonderland as well.

Rook is 100% Rarity!Reader's number one fan, there's no competition.

If Rarity!Reader were to consider the idea of opening a shop, Rook would probably convince Vil to help or something.

Whenever Rarity!Reader get stressed, Rook will be the first to know and the first to be there to calm her down.

"Ma chère! You look tout simplement magnifique today as well!"

Floyd is said to show some interest in fashion, in particular for shoes but still in fashion so he's most likely to talk about fashion with Rarity!Reader. When he's interested that is.

Sometimes even Rarity!Reader is shocked about how insightful Floyd can be about fashion when he wants too, sometimes even picking up things that catches her eyes and giving it to them.

Sometimes ask Rarity!Reader to design shoes (does Rarity even make shoes? I forgor) or clothes for him, will probably complain if she takes longer than she promised.

If Floyd ever were to let Rarity!Reader I to his and Floyd's shared room, I think that Rarity!Reader would have a stroke seeing how messy his room was.

Floyd would just half heartedly encourage Rarity!Reader while she's cleaning up his mess (she really is his cleaner-shrimp) until he is bored.

If Rarity!Reader were to open her clothing store in Twisted Wonderland, Floyd will basically become a bodyguard at this point, squeezing any rude customer till they can't breathe anymore. Who needs a bodyguards when you have Floyd as your s/o.

Depending on his mood, Floyd will either be willing and very very happy to be a model for Rarity!Reader clothes or straight up refuse. At least he's honest you know.

Now if Rarity!Reader were to get stressed, Floyd will have to ways to deal with it depending on his mood. If he's in a good mood then he'll probably just drag Rarity!Reader out to do something but if he's in a bad mood then he'll probably join Rarity!Reader in eating ice cream.

There's a great amount of chance that Floyd would ask Rarity!Reader if she can carry him using either her strength, since she is skilled in martial arts she must be able to carry some weight right? Or will just ask if she can carry him using telekinesis.

If Floyd is feeling a lil silly, he might as well try to eat one of Rarity!Reader's gems tbh.

"Shrimpy! Look at what I found! Wouldn't this look great on that new outfit you were working on?"

Azul thinks that Rarity!Reader would fit in perfectly in Octavinelle, after all, benevolence and generosity are the same right?

Whenever Mostro Lounge is having a special event, he would often invite Rarity!Reader and ask about her opinion on the decoration. He wants everything to be perfect after all.

If Azul found out about Rarity!Reader's magical abilities (telekinesis and finding gem) before his overblot, he will most definitely try to get them, with a contract of course. But I feel like Rarity is the type of person to have her lawyer on speed dial whenever there's a contract to sign so he'll probably fail. (How does she even have a lawyer in Twisted Wonderland when she's from another world? We will never know.)

If he found out after his overblot since he did say he would be be trying to change his ways of doing things, he will probably just ask Rarity!Reader for how her gem-finding ability works and how can she be so precise with telekinesis.

Will blackmail anyone who insults Rarity!Reader's work.

Will probably also be the one to suggest that Rarity!Reader should open her own clothing shop in Twisted Wonderland, doesn't having a inter-dimensional branch sounds amazing? What about the paperwork? Don't worry, Azul will take care of it. For a price of course :)

What would the price be you ask? Azul would probably just ask Rarity!Reader to promote Mostro Lounge or something. A fair deal wouldn't you say?

Would also offer to take care of any work contract and things like that for Rarity!Reader, he wouldn't want her to get taken advantage of after all.

Would be kind off embarrassed if Rarity!Reader proposed that Azul try on one of the clothing she made for him, would try to play it cool though. Rarity!Reader would probably see right through him, but wouldn't mention it.

"Dear, what do you think about this new decoration for the Mostro Lounge's next event? I think it's quite good no?"

Now Lilia is 700 years old and likes to travel all around the world, so even though telekinesis isn't usual in Twisted Wonderland, he's probably seen one person or two use it, so he sin's very shocked, but still impressed nonetheless by Rarity!Reader's magical ability.

Is also fairly impressed by Rarity!Reader's combat skills, has probably seen her punch Sebek in the face because he scared her or something. Wonders if she would be willing to train with both Sebek and Silver.

Lilia likes being cute so he would probably ask Rarity!Reader for fashion tips on how to look even cuter, not necessarily asking her to make him an outfit, just some tips.

Not that he would mind if she actually made him an outfit, on the contrary, he would be quite happy, showing it off without any hesitation when he can.

I don't think anybody at NRC would mess with Rarity!Reader since being close with Lilia means being close with other Diasomnia students, and well, most student from other dorms are scared of Diasomnia, especially Malleus.

I feel like Lilia also knows how to speak French so he and Rarity!Reader could also discuss about things in French together!

If Rarity!Reader wanted to start a business in Twisted Wonderland, Lilia could probably help with choosing a place, since he probably knows where fashion design will be extremely popular etc..

Lilia along with Silver and Sebek could probably help set up the place and carry more heavy things, even if Rarity!Reader could probably carry them with telekinesis. They just want to help!

Whenever Rarity!Reader get stressed, Lilia will help by distracting her with other things and get her to take a break. Once Rarity!Reader does calm down, Lilia will most definitely proceed with stealing the ice cream bucket she was eating and eating it himself. Might share if Rarity!Reader ask nicely.

"Hm? This would look cute on me you say? Kufufu, it's no surprise. After all, aren't adorable in anything I wear?"

꒰ ◁ ꒱┊❝Back to Vil, Rook, Floyd, Azul, Lilia's Masterlist❞

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Note

I love your writing! Can you please write a 2003!Leo X reader where Leo shows up at their apartment injured so they bandage him up and give him some comfort (by making him lay down and relax while they ride him)👀

Injured (Angst/Fluff) (18+)

2003!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Finally got around to write something!💚 I’ve been so busy, but I hope this was worth the wait💚 Btw, I’ve just started watching the Fallout series, so I had to stop myself from going to gorish.

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Description of wound, blood, mentioning of sewing a wound, masturbation?, stripping, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, implied orale - female receiving.

“What the hell happened?!”, you asked in a panic as you helped Leo in through your window, your body shaking at the sight of his hand, clutching his bleeding side, covering the palm of his hand in a deep red color.

“Foot ninjas”, your boyfriend muttered through gritted teeth, pain shooting across his face with every move, as you guided him towards the couch. “Wanted to get some night training in, but they surprised me. I was just lucky to be so close by”.

“Does anybody know that you’re out?”, you asked, your mind raising trying to remember everything that the turtles had taught you, in case something like this would happen. Granted, you had never thought it would happen…

“Yes”, Leo answered, his voice straining a bit, trying to cover the pain in his right side, while watching you hurry through your apartment, in order to find everything you needed. He knew very well that you were trying to keep him talking. Talking and awake. “I asked if they wanted to come along, but they said no. Probably a good thing”.

You almost fell down next to the couch, fumbling with the first aid kit in your hands, taking deep breaths in order to calm yourself. Just like Leo had taught you. And finally, you were able to open the first aid kit, feeling some form of calm wash over you, as you got to work on Leo’s wound.

You had never heard Leo make such sounds as the ones he did that night. He groaned in pain when you sewed his injury shut, his hands clutching on the couch pillows, his breathing heavy as he tried to calm himself. The pain a mutant was able to go through was still hard for you to wrap your head around. And for a moment you had to steady yourself, in order not to let your hands shake once again.

Once you had finally bandaged Leo’s wound, you helped him from your couch and into your bedroom, laying him down on your bed, so that he could relax, while you took on the task of cleaning your living room, from the red blood he had brought with him. You disinfected the hard surfaces, and took the fabric off of your couch, contemplating whether or not you should try to bleach it, or just get a whole new set. In the end, you decided to worry about it another day.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked as you reentered your bedroom, seeing Leo still laying on your bed.

“Better”, Leo smiled. “Can already feel it healing”.

“The perks of being a mutant”, you smiled, before taking a seat next to your boyfriend.

“I guess so”, Leo said, his hand instinctively finding yours, before interlocking your fingers.

You sat like this for a moment, smiling at each other, looking into each others’ eyes, before Leo's hands slowly came to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You instinctively knew what this gesture meant, and with a small chuckle, you leaned down, before pressing your lips to Leo’s in a soft and sweet kiss. Leo let out a small hum - a sound of joy and relaxation. Sure, his wound may have been taken care of, but that did not change his still somewhat alert stage. So to feel you like this against him, made him calm down. His breathing deeper and his touch heavier against your cheek. You had experienced Leo’s minor changes in actions before, knowing very well what effect you had on him. Therefore it did not surprise you when his small hum turned into a small churr, somewhere deep within his chest, the hand on your face getting a soft yet firm grip on the side of your face. It was almost instinctive. Sudden yet very slow. Leo was holding back, both because of his wound, but also because of you. He would never do anything without making sure that it was okay with you.

With another small chuckle, you leaned your head to the side, allowing you to deepen your kiss, Leo’s hand moving from your face to your hair, tangling his fingers with your locks. You felt Leo’s tongue glide across your lower lip, asking you for entrance, which you gladly accepted. Your tongues danced together in a sloppy dance, small sounds of joy and excitement escaping the two of you.

Leo placed his other hand on the mattress, leaning on it as he tried to sit up, your lips still on each other. But he did not get far before you pushed him back down on the bed, breaking your kiss as you did so. Leo looked up at you in slight confusion, only to be met by a mischievous smile by you.

“You’re injured”, you said, your hands finding the bottom of your shirt before pulling it off. “And it’s my job to take care of you”.

Catching on to what you meant, Leo let out a strangled noise, feeling the need behind his cloaca grow. With lustful eyes he watched as your hands moved to the zipper of your pants, before slowly taking them off. Had he not had a gash in his side, he would have jumped on you by now. Instead he settled for curling one arm up around his head, letting his other slowly run towards his cloaca as he watched you slide your pants down your legs.

Once your pants were off, your hands slowly ran from your hips up to your chest, where you let your hands glide over your bra covered breasts. Catching Leo’s eyes as you did so, he let out another wounded sound, before slowly undoing himself from his cloaca, holding his erect member in his hand while he waited for you to continue your little show for him. And you did, undoing your bra before letting it fall to the floor, so that your hands could start massaging your chest. Leo chuckled with a small smile, his hand slowly beginning to work up and down his member.

“Beautiful”, he mumbled, his voice having gone deeper and slightly raspy, making your panties more wet than they already were. “Absolutely beautiful”.

You felt pride bobble within you. Leo’s words always seemed to have that kind of effect on you. Just like you could turn him on with his, so could he turn you on. And he knew it. He could smell it, your scent strong in the air, making him just a little light headed. And he loved it. He had always loved what the scent of your arousal was able to do to him.

Your hands went from your breasts and down to the hem of your underwear, taking a hold of them by hooking your thumbs, before slowly pulling them down your hips, all while maintaining your intense eye contact with Leo. This had Leo churring much louder, with his hand quickening its motion on his erect member. What eye contact couldn’t do to this man.

You let your panties fall to the floor before stepping out of them, making your way up on the bed, stradling Leo’s waist. Having retracted his hand from his member, in order to make room for you, Leo’s hands came to rest on your thighs, needling the flesh, before letting his right hand move upwards, with the intent of cupping your sex. However, you slapped his hand away with another mischievous smile.

“I just told you, I’m the one that’s going to take care of you”.

Leo relented, letting his hands run mindlessly up and down your thighs, watching as you took his throbbing member into your hand, letting your thumb run over the tip of his head, smearing his precum around.

Leo’s brow muscles frowned as he let out a shaky breath, watching your hand do slow tugs on him, before carefully lining him up with your entrance, teasing both you and him.

“(Y/N)...”, Leo let out in a low moan, his fingers holding on tight to your thighs.

You bit your lip with a smile, knowing exactly what it was that your boyfriend wanted, making sure that you were lined up, before slowly sliding down upon him. You let out a breathy moan as you felt his thickness stretch you out, the sound of Leo’s churring only becoming stronger and louder, his hands becoming restless on your thighs once more. If it wasn’t from the wound on his side, he would have thrusted up into you. He would have pulled you down, so that you would lay flat against his plastron, where he could allow himself to pound into you relentlessly. But he couldn’t, leaving his at the mercy of you to give him needed.

“Now, lay still”, you said, already breathless just from his size, before you slowly started to rise up his member, only to slide back down on it once more, making you both moan from the small wave of pleasure. You repeated the motion, slowly increasing your speed as you went.

“Shit, babe”, Leo groaned, watching as your chest began to bounce with your movements, one of his hands grabbing one with a squish. You in turn let out a louder moan, before angling your legs, allowing you to increase your speed even further, your skin slapping against his with every bounce, the head of his member hitting the spot of your insides with ease.

With the increase of your speed, Leo threw his head back with a moan, closing his eyes momentarily at the amazing feeling of your tight wet walls around him.

“Don’t stop, babe”, Leo moaned, his eyes still closed and his face showing the relaxation and pleasure he was feeling. “Please don’t stop, (Y/N)”.

His words spurred you on, your hands coming to rest on his chest, providing you more support with each move. One of Leo’s hands found yours on his chest, stroking it with his thumb, watching your form above him, the looks he was giving you sending shivers and tingles straight to your core.

It might have been Leo’s slightly weakened state, or the fact that you made him calm down after a period of intense emotions with adrenaline rushing, but to his surprise, Leo already found the pressure build up behind his cloaca, alerting him to the fact that he was getting close. And you knew Leo well enough to know that he was close as well. From the restlessness of his hands feeling up your body, the way that his legs were moving behind you, and how his hips fought to move with you, was letting you know how close he was getting to his high.

“Want to cum?”, you asked sweetly. Leo nodded, his hooded yet lustful eyes never leaving yours. It was strange yet incredibly erotic to see him like this. Normally he was full of energy, having to use his impressive self control to hold himself back from fucking your brains out. But right now it wasn’t an option. With Leo’s wound and his body relaxing after such a high state, he did not have energy to hold back or hold his hips still, nor did he have the energy to force you down on the mattress and plow into you. He was truly at your mercy.

“Yes”, Leo almost whimpered, his fingers lightly clawing at your hips. “Fuck, yes please. I want to cum”.

The sound of Leo begging was new to you. Usually he would be the one calling the shots in the bedroom, edging you over and over again, and making you beg before he would let your orgasm take over you. But now, as your normally dominant boyfriend was begging beneath you, you suddenly understood why he wanted you to do the same usually. It felt like a powerrush. It was almost too good not to enjoy. And had Leo not been injured, you might have done it. Toyed with it, and do the same to him like he usually did to you. But you decided against it, not wishing to accidentally make his injury worse. Tonight the goal was to make Leo relax, and provide him comfort.

You leaned your face down to Leo’s, where you gave him a quick kiss, before moving your lips to neck, passing by where his ears would have been, whispering to him in a sultry voice; “Then cum for me, babe”.

And Leo did, moving his head to the side, giving you space to work your lips over his neck, while he came inside of you, his hips buckling as much as his wound would allow him to, his churrs and moans filling the room, making the excitement in your core grow even stronger.

Once Leo was calming down from his high, you moved to get off of him and lay down on the bed, letting his member slip out of you. But before you could get up from your straddling position, Leo stopped you with his hands on your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, he asked with a slight mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’m going to lay down so we can cuddle”, you said. “Just like we always do when we’re done”.

“Nah, we’re not done”, Leo said, pulling your hips back to his.

“But Leo, your wound-”.

“My wound is on my side, not on my face”, your boyfriend said, catching you off guard, leaving you stunned for a moment. He smiled at you, enjoying the look on your face, tugging at your hips. “Now, move up, sweetheart. I can’t heal without eating”.

Who would have thought that even a wounded Leo, would find ways to make you beg all night long…

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Away P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Niece, Viserys Second daughter with Aemma) Rating - Sweet Word Count - 1735

Warning - Suicide Mentions

Part One

Using the secret tunnels to return Y/n to her chambers as if she never left, she tossed away the common clothes and put on her black silk nightie collapsing on her bed,

Daemon watched her change your clothes He could tell she was holding back tears. He felt bad for his sweetling. He knew she must be lonely at times, and he wasn't with her all the time. He decided not to leave just yet. Daemon approached and sat next to her on the bed. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he looked at her face. His face was soft and he looked genuinely concerned for her loneliness.

"you'll be leaving again soon, and I'll be alone again…"

Daemon saw her frown growing more upset and he decided to pull her closer to him. He held her for a moment, letting her get some comfort. His hand on her shoulder rubbed gently and he put his other hand on her back and held her close to him. "I know, I know. But I will always come back to you my sweetling. The first thing I do when I return to King's Landing, is rush straight to you. And the last thing I do before I leave is visit you again."

she nodded "But then you're gone. I see you off and then I'm alone, my sister doesn't visit, father never asks to see me, and I'm locked in here so much the handle has dust."

Daemon noticed how sad it was for her. ‘She had no one to really talk to or even just enjoy the time you spent with’ he thought. "Can you tell me something though, sweetling?"

"yes?"

"What do you always do when I'm gone? Are you always alone like this? No one to talk to?"

"always. I just read it. Sew. Sleep"

Daemon frowned as you said that. He felt guilty for being away so long. "You should have more people to spend your time with. What about the handmaidens? You don't get along with any of them?"

"they only come when I call for them, then they do what I ask and go. Most don't talk to me even when I try"

Daemon frowned as he heard her answer. He didn't even want to think about how lonely and depressing this experience was for her. "You haven't got a single friend, have you?"

"... No."

The news made him a bit disappointed. A lonely little princess with no friends and a sad life. Her only comfort in this world was her uncle. Daemon was feeling a little guilty for not being here and keeping a closer eye on her. "You can never truly be sad, though. Not when your dear old uncle is here for you. You can always tell me your problems and your sadness and I will be here to comfort you." He smiled at her softly but he could see she was still upset.

"but you're not here... You go off on an adventure to the Stepstones or off with the city watch or off at Dragonstone. I do love when you're here it's... The only time I ever smiled anymore"

That last sentence pained Daemon a lot more, hearing that the only times she smiled were the rare occasions he was around. He felt like he was abandoning a child for leaving her alone for so long. His expression showed his feelings for a split second before he hid it away and continued to comfort her. His voice was kind and compassionate. He spoke with a smile to conceal his guilt. "It's alright... I feel like the only time I feel happy is when I'm holding you. You are my source of happiness, my sweetling."

she nodded and she sat up a moment wiping her tears before she hugged him her arms around his shoulders, she sat in his lap, her head in his chest as she fought the urge to cry

Daemon put his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. He rubbed her hair and he looked down on her little face which was buried in his chest. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck and his hands were rubbing her back. Daemon felt his happiness come back as he embraced you like this.

After a bit, Daemon decided to speak "You know, you are so much smaller than me when you sit in my lap, my sweeting," He said trying to comfort and distract her,

she nodded "When are you leaving?"

Daemon's face slightly fell at the mention of him leaving. But he decided to not let that stop him from comforting her. Even if he was going to leave soon he would make every second count. "Soon, my sweetling. I'm not sure, it will be soon but I will come back. I always do. Even though I know it might leave you feeling sad, I will always return. I promise."

"you'll be gone days? Months? Longer?"

Daemon seemed troubled as he thought about how long he would be leaving for. It was possible it would be longer than the usual. And after what she said, he felt bad about it now as he thought about how lonely she would feel when abandoned for a long amount of time. He didn't know what to say now, and he could see that his answer was also painful to her. "I don't know... Most likely a few days or weeks... Maybe longer than that but I promise you with all my heart that I will return."

she nodded "... I can't promise I'll be here"

Daemon felt a stab in his heart when she said that. He stopped rubbing her back and he stared down at her. He looked at her face as she was trying to hold back her tears and he felt bad that she felt this sad. "Sweetling, you can never do that! I can't lose you, I just can't. Are you telling me the truth? You really plan to leave?"

"... I have thought of it. More than once" she said,

Daemon was shaken to the core by her words. The pain of losing her suddenly hit him and he felt the urge to cry. He held her close to him and spoke softly but urgently. "Sweetling, listen. Please take my words to heart. Never think that again. I would be devastated to lose you. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. Whatever it takes to keep you alive and healthy. I don't want you to ever think of doing that again, okay?"

she nodded clearly still sad,

Daemon was still worried even with her nod. ‘I couldn't let her do this ever. She means too much to me’ the thought. Daemon held her close to him, he didn't care whether she was crying or not, he would keep her close to him to comfort her. "I hope I haven't disappointed you too much with how I have been acting," Daemon said softly, letting her cry against his chest. All his worries and fears were flooding his body and he couldn't hide them. He didn't want to lose her, and he felt like a failure right now.

she shook her head, "Often it feels you're all I have anymore..."

Daemon heard your answer and he was surprised to hear that to be honest. He smiled slightly and he squeezed her tighter as he held her against him. "Then it's my duty to protect you, my sweetling. I will do anything in this life to protect you. From now on I will come to see you as often as I can. Will that make you happier?"

she nodded,

Daemon smiled softly but still looked concerned He still could feel the sadness in her but he decided to try and comfort her by holding her against him and playing with her hair. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt his happiness coming back. He didn't want this moment to end. "Will you promise me something?"

"yes, Daemon?"

"Will you promise me that every time I leave, whenever you have thoughts like those, you will tell me as soon as I return? I need to know if you ever intend to do that again, sweetling. Or If you really do feel alone while I am away."

"I Will I promise"

"Thank you, my sweetling. That is very important to me. And from now on I will try my best to come see you as often as I can. I promise you that. Just please, let me know how you feel and I will always be trying to make you as happy as I can while I am away, and if you really do start to think like that send a raven and I will rush back on craxaes just to see you. okay?"

she nodded and laid herself down on her pillow,

Daemon kept his hand gripped with her and he continued to smile at her he helped to tuck her into her bed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. He could feel the sadness that still lingered in her and he didn't want to go just yet. She was still in need of comfort and love. So he continued to sit there with her and play with her hair.

"May I ask you one more question, my sweetling?"

she nodded

"Are you happy right now, my sweetling?”

"very happy and very content but also sad because I know it will end eventually"

Daemon sighed a little bit when she told him how she felt, it was true and her feelings were valid."I will always come back. No matter what happens, I will come back. I promise you, I will never leave you and I will never be gone for more time than I have to,"

she nodded and slowly closed her eyes, after a while she began to drift off to sleep her grip on him became loose, he smiled and watched her sleep for a while But for some reason he felt a strong urge to stay now. He wanted to stay with her, no matter how long he would be away from her he wanted to spend these last few hours with her, "Daemon?" she spoke up,

"Yes, my sweetling? What is it?"

for a moment she doesn't speak she just looks at him taking in every element of him as if she's trying to ensure her memory of him before she rests a soft hand on his cheek stroking his face before she finally connects her lips with his…

#hotd daemon #daemon x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen x reader #daemontargaeryen #house targaryen #daemontargaryen #houseofthedragon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon daemon #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic #hotd

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ecogirl2759 · 11 months

Text

So, I decided to take a few photos of the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS series and compile a few of the findings I thought were funny.

I don't have everything fully translated yet, so there may be a few issues with my findings. If you find any mistakes or have anything to add, please lmk :) I'll also update this if I find things later.

---IMPORTANT NOTE---

All of these drawings are NOT mine. Everything comes from the 4コマ KINGS series published by Spike Chunsoft. I'm simply photographing them and sharing them with others who may not have seen them before (since the series is out of circulation). If there is any issue with my post, please inform me so that I can take appropriate action.

All photos are below the break here :) (Warning, it's long lol) ((And there are a few minor spoilers))

(EDIT: As a side note, I've posted more pictures in an update. Idrk how this site works, so I'm letting people know here so you can find it if you want.)

Fun things that you can learn from the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS comics:

Hifumi has written, drawn, or thought of making content relating to Sayaka x Kiyoko, Aoi x Sakura (on two occasions), and Makoto x Byakuya

Toko thinks that… something… happened between Mondo and Kiyotaka in the sauna, wink wink.

Toko wrote some sort of fanfiction in relation to Byakuya, Chihiro and Mondo. Idk what it is, but the title is along the lines of "The Byakuya Family Household Sweep Away a Beautiful Girl". (Pretty sure it's a Mondo x Chihiro fic, but I could be wrong.)

^ pretty sure Syo is a heavy BL fan lol

Aoi's b00bs are so squishy, she can use them to launch herself off things.

Everyone really likes drawing pretty boy Byakuya. Like, he looks fabulous in some of these panels. Here is one of those pictures:

........Okay, fine, this is the right one:

Hifumi has drawn gender swaps of a few of the boys, being Makoto, Byakuya, Leon, Yasuhiro, Kiyotaka, and Mondo.

Leon really wants a harem lol

Kiyoko's secret picture (from the last trial in-game) was of Class 78 hosting a cat maid cafe

Yasuhiro's secret (the motive in Chapter 2) is that he's an idiot.

Mondo, Kiyotaka and Sayaka all get along really well! So do Mondo, Kiyotaka and Chihiro :)

Mondo knows how to sew!

Mondo doesn't wear eyeliner, he just has really long eye lashes.

Mondo's hair is fluffy and bouncy :)

Makoto thinks Mondo's hair looks like a corn chip. Aoi thinks it looks like a chocolate croissant :)

Chihiro once gave Mondo a game about dogs. He loved it lol

Chihiro and Mondo have actually trained together.

^ they actually make a great team :)

(I'm pretty sure that) Kiyotaka was found guilty in a trial relating to black underwear. Unclear if he was executed or not. (This point is subject to change once I fully translate the comic.)

Kiyotaka was brainwashed by the Mono-Rangers (parody on Power Rangers) in a different comic. He became Commander Ishimaru and enforced rules and dress code in a dictator-like fashion. (Full translation is still in the works.) This is what his outfit looked like:

Daiya dies in 4K

Komaru's here :D

Mukuro shows up a lot as herself! She's so cute lol

Kiyoko's kinda socially awkward lol, it's really cute.

Makoto has wanted to see up Kiyoko's skirt on multiple occasions.

Makoto has tried a couple of times to cheer Kiyotaka up. It does not work.

And now, here are some funny out-of-context panels to cap off this post! These were too hilarious not to include, I just couldn't make a bullet point out of them lol.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk :)

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nobody-nexus · 9 months

Text

Ragapom HCs I Have

(WARNING: There's a LOT of headcanons)

-Transfem Lesbian Pomni (Is On The Spectrum)

-Cisgender Bisexual Ragatha (Has ADHD)

-Pomni has a cat tail (This is to give other hcs context)

-Pomni loves hearing Ragatha play the cello

-Ragatha will always ask if it's okay if she can touch Pomni or not, but if they're in immediate danger there's no time to ask (she will ask if Pomni's okay and apologize AFTER the danger has passed)

-Pomni learned how to sew just to help out Ragatha (She's not great at it, but it's better than nothing)

-They both learned each other's favorite smells and they've asked for candles of that scent just to sit in their rooms and take it in

-Pomni's not the BIGGEST fan of her body but Ragatha makes sure she feels valid (if you misgender her, you die. There's no getting pass it)

-Ragatha hides her love of horses because she's embarrassed by it, but Pomni actually really like animals

-Pomni makes various animal noises when expressing emotions, mainly cat or even dog like noises- and Ragatha's memorized all of them

-Blanket cuddles ALL THE TIME- even if Pomni's okay with touch. Ragatha being one giant comforter for Pomni always makes her SO HAPPY

-Pomni has bells on her tail, which although was Caine's idea, it DID make it easier for Ragatha to know if Pomni's sneaking away for a late-night snack or not

-Pomni has a BIG love for dresses. Ragatha once made a dress for Pomni, who wears it every time they go on a date

-Jax was the first to find out about them dating by barging into their room while they were making out. Caine was the last to find out, but still thinks they're "gal pals"

-Whenever Ragatha's having a bad day, Pomni just likes to talk. Since she's not always up for physical comfort, she knows her voice soothes Ragatha

-Pomni swears a lot whilst Ragatha hardly does so

-Ragatha makes Pomni flustered CONSTANTLY, and she never even means to

-Pomni's stamina is nonexistent while Ragatha can run for hours without realizing it

-Ragatha can pick up Pomni like she's nothing

-Pomni is awful at coming up with cute nicknames for Ragatha, but Ragatha has a bunch. Her favorite one is 'sweetheart' for Pomni

-If the jester's feeling very protective, she'll bite Ragatha to show bite marks, showing that no one touches Ragatha but her (And the doll's beyond embarrassed about it)

-Pomni's flirting sucks, but Ragatha's reaction is THE most 30s thing you could imagine. Hands on sides of face, shaking her head a little, "Oh Pomni, QUIT IT! You're gonna make me blush!", blushing hard, giggling along the way

-If Pomni gets flustered enough, she gets a nosebleed like a cartoon character! Her blood is black in color

-Ragatha lets Pomni help in the kitchen by grabbing ingredients for her. That's about it

-Ragatha was shocked hearing Pomni talk in Spanish and Russian for the first times (AN: YES, I still think Pomni's Russian and Hispanic)

-When they kiss, it's VERY obvious. Ragatha wears red lipstick, and it gets all over Pomni's face, making her all red and flustered, but she loves it every time it happens

-No one has told Pomni her eyes turn into hearts when she's infatuated yet. Not even Jax (Mainly cause Ragatha won't ALLOW him to do so)

-Pomni thinks Ragatha looks hot holding knives.... Ragatha's a little bit of a klutz with knives in reality

-Unlike Ragatha, Pomni actually likes bugs. She usually handles centipedes if any are around

-Ragatha has a big sweet tooth which is why she bakes. Although it has lead to Ragatha accidentally getting high because Zooble made pot brownies... Multiple times

-Pomni is easy to anger whilst Ragatha has a long fuse, but can be easily bothered

-If Pomni gets too stressed out, her teeth get shark like. She can crush a damn BONE with them, and Ragatha helps out with those said bones (don't ask where she gets them from)

-Pomni likes playing horror games whilst Ragatha likes calmer games

-Ragatha loves FNaF and will ramble about it to Pomni

-Pomni likes to draw! Ragatha loves ALL the drawings she does

-They watch Disney movies in bed together :D

-Most of their dates get ruined because of Jax or Caine (Sometimes Bubble)

-Ragatha gets oddly competitive in multiplayer games, thus why they don't play many multiplayer games together

-Slow dancing is Ragatha's favorite romantic thing to do with Pomni

-They usually kiss when both are laying down because the height difference hurts Ragathas back hurt when they kiss whilst standing

-Pomni HATES being wet with her clothes on. Pomni has to be carried by the scruff of her outfit like a cat because she just COMPLETELY shuts down due to overstimulation of the wet clothes against her skin

-Ragatha hates her hands, but Pomni finds them interesting, and she likes to watch Ragatha use her hands for various things JUST to see how they work

-Caine almost gave them a child by overhearing something they said wrong, but thankfully the two were quick enough to stop him

WOW that's a LOT of hcs. And maybe I have more. Hope you like them!

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zyonsay · 9 months

Note

Hello! Could i ask for some super niche things about max's relationshoip w his bf? Thankl you so much :DD

Niche Relationship Hcs MV1

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: The title!

Reader: Male/Genderneutral

Warnings: None

Now playing: 'Salvatore' by Lana del Rey

AN: Hey anon! Sorry for taking so long to make this... I try to do request in order they were sent in and i got really busy in the last few weeks! I hope you like it nevertheless <3

Max’s schedule is annoyingly busy, he’d rather be with you than having to attend press conferences and PR related appointments. But, no matter how busy he gets, he will always leave you a small note on your bedside table or on the fridge door. ‘Hey baby! Hope you have a great day, can’t wait to see you in the evening!’, along with a scribbly smiley and a few hearts.

I’ve mentioned this in all the Hcs I’ve ever written about him, BUT: He’ll always be touching you in some way. They are light, innocent touches like a hand on your back while you’re walking through a crowded area or his head on your shoulder while you’re cooking him some soup while he’s sick.

THE shirt. On your very first date, Max had worn a light blue dress shirt, which accentuated the blue hues in his eyes perfectly. Sadly, at the end of the night he accidentally spilled red wine on it. The Bordeaux red liquid left terrible stains on the light fabric, the only thing he could do was throw it in the bin, but this was THE shirt he wore on his first date with you, he could never throw it away! This snowballed into a running joke and to this day, the shirt remains in a picture frame on the wall. Whenever you have guests over, they’ll ask about it and Max loves an excuse to talk about you guys’ first date.

The dutch definitely likes to spoil you, so loads of gifts come naturally when dating him. But it’s not in a show-off type of way, he doesn’t just randomly buy you a sports car or another 4’000-dollar Bengal cat. It’s smaller, more practical gifts. Your favorite perfume is empty? He picked up another bottle of it when he went grocery shopping. You lost your favorite pen? Not even a day after there’s a new pack of the same ones on your desk, doesn’t matter if you’ve already found the ‘lost’ pen, which actually just rolled under your bed. Max loves seeing that shy little grin on your face when you tell him that he didn’t need to buy it.

A sort of ritual you and Max began was playing Mario Kart. Yes, when you get bored you two play on the switch together, but it’s become a tradition to play it the night before the Quali race. It’s some good old lighthearted fun, to settle down and relax before the stressful weekend began.

Even if Max himself isn’t a great cook himself, he loves to create dishes with you. If you know a lot of things about cooking (or maybe you’re a chef), he’ll ask many questions and try to get better. Believe it or not, this man couldn’t cook an egg when you two first got together!

Max travels often, either for Races or different press conferences, there’s always something up. He likes travelling by plane, but usually he sleeps through the flight. But there’s a very specific reason for that! The dutch likes to sew, he used to watch his mother sew his karting suits together when he tore it. You on the other hand, struggled with it. You never knew how long the thread had to be, or which setting you needed to use on the sewing machine. But, Max gladly helped you and with your new set of skills you had sewn him a pillow, as a small gift. It was a tiny bit wonky, but it came from your heart and he appreciated that. Before every flight, especially when you can’t accompany him on it, he’ll spray a little bit of your perfume on the pillow. As soon as he rests his head against it while gazing at the clowds, he sinks in your sweet scent. He’ll fall asleep swiftly, with a gentle smile on his face.

#ZyonsRequests #male reader #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #male reader insert #max verstappen x male reader #reader insert #x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #gender neutral reader #x male reader #male!reader #male x male #gay

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simpingland · 1 year

Text

'Alone' together// Lucerys Velaryon x fem!reader.

Y/N Celtigar and Luke have been betrothed for years, but the reader is having a hard time finding true friendship on Dragonstone. Some tutoring makes Luke change his mind about his wife to be.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

No one could stand Jace when he was ahead in any of the classes you all shared with the Master. That's why you took every lesson so seriously, just so you could take him down a peg or two. And it could be fun most of the time, but in the long run, you and Jace never quite clicked, causing Rhaena and Luke to stay somewhat aloof from you, preferring the favour of the prince to the favour of a pupil like you.

When everyone heard the news about Lady Celtigar's death, you were only eight. Rhaenyra saw in you a child who longed for her mother as she had longed for her own, and made a pact with your father to take you into her care. He agreed, proposing a marriage in return. It was a good idea, Valyrian blood with Valyrian blood, extending and strengthening houses that moved across the Seven Kingdoms. Unfortunately, though you were the same age as Jace, Baela was also a close child and the idea of her being queen in the future protected Rhaenyra and Jace's reign...so you were promised to Luke.

It could have been worse, they could have promised you Joffrey...or worse...Jace! At least Lucerys, as you found out a few days later, turned out to be a good boy, if a little too childish for your taste. Growing up in Dragonstone had been quicker than anyone expected, but no less hard. The siblings were very close to each other, and they were also very close to their dragons. Rhaena was sweet and pleasant, but there was something about her company that made you feel as if she was there out of obligation. You never had the feeling that you belonged there.

Arguments between the four of you were very common, never worrisome as they were usually the typical ones caused by going on adventures together, by stealing things from each other... although if someone came out crying, it was usually you. You were a studious young woman, always alert and if Rhaenyra found out about all the shenanigans of the group, it was because you told her. They never listened when you justified yourself by saying that lying was not an option for you. At dinners together you were usually the one who was left out of the conversation, even if they were talking about you. If you were lucky and Luke got mad at Jace too, you had the young man sitting next to you as he prattled on about Arrax and how much he hated Jace that day. He never failed to make you laugh. Sadly, that didn't always happen, and it was more common for him to give you the same dirty looks as the rest when you didn't play along.

Rhaenyra already knew about this problem, and she tried to educate you on how being friends with your husband was always the best way to be married. The problem was that you didn't really know how to make friends...because no one understood how you loved them, everything you said or did ended up being used against you. And no matter how much you made up your mind that you shouldn't do anything, you couldn't help but stay at the table with Luke after he failed his geography lesson with the Maester. Jace had already left for his dragon with a victorious smile, and Rhaena accompanied him, the Maester would show her how to feed her little Morning.

Luke was more embarrassed than sad, you could see it in the way he looked down at you as you paced the table with the map.

"Don't you have one of your sewing classes or one of those lame things you like to do?" he asked.

"I don't like boring things...I just like to be quiet. It's different. And no, I can stay and help you."

"No need, thanks..." he tried to concentrate on the map.

"You should learn some trick to memorize the map...a song, a rhyme..."

"That's just stupid." He interrupted you and you instantly stopped wanting to help him. Something must have crossed your eyes because Luke felt bad right away. "Sorry...it's just...Jace will laugh at me if he sees me burst into song if someone asks me to point out the Isles of Tarth."

This made you laugh, and Luke smiled at your reaction. It wasn't very casual to see you laugh genuinely, it was always usually out of politeness or only brought on by the Maester, Rhaenyra, or some guard. Although, if he thought about it, Luke had seen you laugh at times when he had focused more on you than on the dinners.

"It's just a trick, you end up memorising it eventually. Besides, by the time you're Lord of Driftmark you'll have travelled more. It will be easier."

"How do you memorise it?"

"Oh..." you didn't expect that question. Perhaps because the answer was so personal. "I think about my family. Where my grandmothers were born...where my uncle died...where my grandfather won a battle...where my mother was a ward when she was my age..."

It seemed like a sad thing, but it wasn't really sad for you. The maps served you like a history book. You'd always had a head for remembering stories, and it was all because you felt too trapped there, too lonely. You enjoyed visits to the castle, something the others hated, for even the dullest Lord had an anecdote about someone in your family. However, if the Targaryen children wanted to know something about their family, all they had to do was open any history book.

"It's very nice, really, though I think I'd go mad if I used your method." Luke tried to lighten up a bit the turn the conversation seemed about to take.

"Right, I think the simplest thing to do is for us to decorate our own map." You suggested.

"I don't have enough inks to make a nice map."

"I do!"

Luke had to follow you at a quickened pace, even though he was even slightly taller than you, your enthusiasm to show him your full artistic arsenal outweighed physics. You let him into your rooms, where he hadn't been for many years, and he was surprised to see that it was more cluttered than he expected. There were piles of books in every nook and cranny, many open and with notes on their sides. You also had a small desk in front of your balcony. When he looked out, he noticed that you overlooked the beach. It made him tender to know that he could watch you study while he trained with Jace.

The afternoon flew by as Luke decorated a map with colours assigned to houses, animals and creatures. He made trees and mountains, and you taught him to draw castles for important towns. On a thinner piece of paper, you wrote the names of all those places and Luke tried to name the points you pointed out and then you checked it by putting the paper over it. And it didn't take him long to match what he said with what it really was. He was so happy that he even gave you a hug.

From that day on, geography lessons were much more fun for Luke, as he spent more time drawing than memorising, and he showed you all the things he was doing. Jace's concentration would be thrown off by your whispering and giggling. Sometimes you would show him the annotations and drawings you had on your map, and you would have fun imagining an tracing a dragon ride.

He started helping you in Valyrian, Luke's favourite subject. And at dinners he always sat next to you, apart from Rhaena and Jace. Luke always did the talking, for he always had more to tell than you, who spent the whole day engaged in something completely alternative to what the others were doing. Day by day, he would let you feel open enough to give him your opinion on the books you were reading or telling him some childhood stories.

One of the days when Jace and Luke were training, Luke remembered that afternoon, and your little desk overlooking the beach. He stopped to look for you with his eyes, and it took him a while to find your figure, but he did. He couldn't see you clearly, but he could make out that you were leaning on your balcony, concentrating on something, with a pen in your hand.

"It would be good if you were concentrating on something, Lucerys," the older scolded him.

"Sorry, you're right...I'm really getting better though." Luke smiled mischievously at her.

"Only in geography, I'm not going to applaud your need to draw trees in the woods." Jace landed a lazy first punch, pulling Luke's gaze away from yours.

"Hey! Easy!" Luke tried to hit him back, but clearly Jace was better than him.

"Oops, sorry...I didn't remember how much of a pussy you've become since you and Y/N are the best of friends."

It was silly, but the fight that was supposed to be a rehearsal turned into something all too real, and Jace and Luke were soon fighting without swords, using shoves and fists. From a blow that Jace threw disproportionately, Luke felt part of his lower lip split. At the sight of blood, both stopped instantly.

Of course they were brought before Rhaenyra by the guard who at the time was unable to stop them. And you, who could hear all the commotion, went down to check what was going on. Both were dishevelled but only Luke was bleeding.

"I want an explanation, right now!" Rhaenyra looked furious.

"Luke is being unbearable, mother." Jace gave her a terrible look.

"It's you who can't stand to be outdone. You're always the most important." Luke accepted the water-soaked handkerchief you gave him. He let out a small whimper as he felt the sting.

"Maybe it's because I'm the heir to the throne, my education is vital. And you only know how to giggle and be a shitty student."

You couldn't take it anymore, he always used that excuse, that he had to be the best to be a good king. Luke had already confessed to you over dinner that the love and admiration he had for Jace causes him a lot of anxiety, because he felt unfit to rule something as important as Driftmark.

"That doesn't give you any right to hit him..." everyone turned to look at you, and Jace was relieved to find himself back in the same situation where you were making a fool of yourself.

"You weren't there to see it, it would be nice if you stayed out of this for once."

"I didn't do anything wrong, don't talk to me like that." You were getting that high-pitched, agitated voice again that you get when you're feeling overly nervous. Luke could see it, his hand rested on your arm gently.

"It's your fault Luke's an twat now. All you know how to do is be a pain in the ass to everyone, and now you're filling my brother's head with your bullshit."

"What's wrong with you is that you're unbearable and jealous because Baela isn't here to tell you how well you're doing everything."

"And what's wrong with you is that you're such a pain in the ass that your father put you on the first boat that offered to take you off his sight."

"Jace!" Rhaenyra snapped at him. "I command you to stop talking like that. I remember teaching you some manners, didn't I?. Apologize. Right now."

Jace gave a sigh. And with a forced smile, he focused on them both.

"Luke, I'm really sorry I hurt you, maybe I went too far, considering you're also going to spend the rest of your life next to this absolute bore and insufferable woman. It's a big sacrifice on your part."

Jace gave Luke a friendly slap on his shoulder and turned away, forgiving himself. You, on the other hand, had already started to feel the tears forming at the thought of disappearing from your father's sight. It was too delicate of a subject, and you longed for him, Jace had struck another blow too hard.

"Apologize to Y/N, Jace." Luke's voice sounded serious, demanding. Jace turned away.

"By what right are you commanding me around now?"

"I'm your brother, and Y/N will be my wife, your sister-in-law, and we'll all be a family. Show her the respect she deserves, and ask for her forgiveness."

Jace was quiet for a second. Luke's hand moved to reach for your hand and squeezed it, it was cold, but at his touch, it began to warm.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." It was dry, and it was surely not for you, but for Luke. It was still humiliating, and of course, it was you who left that room crying.

You tried to hide your tears from Luke, who was asking you not to leave, but you couldn't even come up with an excuse, you just disappeared from there.

When you didn't show up for dinner, Luke couldn't eat a single bite. Rhaenyra watched as your empty seat provoked something in him that hadn't happened before, he became quiet. Jaxe was also quiet, stressed and recovering from the scold he received from his mother after all that scene. With a nod of his head, Luke had permission to get up and look for you. Your door was open, but inside your room you were hard to find. On the floor, your back against your bed, a candle illuminated one of your maps. You tried to wipe your face a little as Luke sat down next to you.

"You're missing your favourite dessert..." he tried to get a smile out of you, he couldn't. "I'm sure Jace regrets what he said, he didn't say a single word at dinner."

"He regrets a lot of things I'm sure, but never that he spoke ill of me." You told him without so much as a glance at him.

"That's not true. There may be friction, but we're all family."

"Yeah, but I'm not in it. All I try to do is to be fair, to do the right thing. Your mother is a future queen to me, I must always tell her the truth. And none of the three of you seem to understand the great danger you are in every day..."

"I do understand that you do it for us, but soon she will be like a mother to you too." Luke held your hand.

"I miss my family so much...All I really have from them is just memories I didn't even get to live, few years with my mother... I try to love in the present but then I'm faced with this ignorace against my person.Lucerys, every day I feel this sorrow, this silence...I feel so, so lonely."

Then he understood your great passion for maps. And he suddenly felt like a tremendous idiot. I could have been there for you much earlier. But he was convinced that it was a good time to start.

"I've had dreams too...well, they were really nightmares...about being heir to Driftmark and spending my whole life alone. Jace would be here, Mother at King's Landing, Rhaena married, and everyone else would be dead...and you would be left, as always, locked in your rooms, not wanting to talk to anyone."

At last you looked at him, he too had a sad expression. His lip was split at the bottom. His eyes connected with yours.

"I'm sorry you had that impression of me...you...I actually, genuinely like you. A lot."

You watched as Luke smiled mischievously, like his mother did.

"It'll be the only thing I beat Jace at..." he finally got a laugh out of you. "Maybe, we could feel 'alone' together."

"Sounds like a good idea..."

"And we can go to sleep together, but alone." He continued to joke.

"And have lonely blonde and brunette children..." you continued.

"And sail the ocean alone..."

And in unison you both said "but together!"

At the coincidence, you burst out laughing. And more you laughed when Luke got a stitch of pain in his lip from smiling. His little scream was too funny.

"Hey...don't be mean!" he scolded you with a totally fake frown.

"Oh, my prince, I'm sorry! That wound looks bad..."

"Well, the Maester says nothing that can't be fixed with a kiss on the wound in question."

"Haha! Now I really feel sorry for you if you need a kiss from the Maester..."

"I'm afraid you're out of luck, the sages say only kisses from beautiful, blonde women, lousy with Valyrian but great readers with a strangely amusing laugh."

In that light, Luke had made you happier than you had ever imagined. He might still be a little more childish than you'd like, but it was this that made you laugh during dinners and lessons. This dedication to your could be the beginning of a fun and pleasant future, much closer than your inner child had imagined when you read those love stories in your books.

It was you who reached first, and Luke was the first to close his eyes. A tender kiss on the lips, first on his bottom lip, soft and slow, trying not to hurt him. But above was his upper lip, intact, and there you gave him another kiss, more intense, but just as sweet. And Luke pressed his lips together as hard as he could, letting himself be carried away by your soft lips brushing his. When you broke apart, he saw you blush a little, but you immediately laughed at him, who was much more flushed than you were.

"Actually...if I'm going to be your wife, you didn't have to memorise all those places. I would know them for you." You told him as you walked on your way to the kitchen, ready to dine alone with the leftovers from dinner.

"Right..." Luke led the way, holding your hand. "Although then you would never have realised how much you really like me."

#lucerys velaryon #lucerys strong #prince lucerys #lucerys targaryen #luke velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x you #lucerys Velaryon x y/n #lucerys Velaryon fanfic #lucerys velaryon one shot #game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #elliot grihault

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mikuyuuss · 10 days

Text

This is for @loosesodamarble and other platonic! Giyuu Mitsuri enjoyers who don't mind a sprinkle of my oc! My modern au where Giyuu and Mitsuri became friends through my oc Akari!

As much as I enjoy the canon setting, I thought it'd be fun to imagine an au were they all got to live their best lives. I think Akari and Mitsuri would sooo thrive in a modern setting. Giyuu in canon is a very lonely character too, so in my au, he gets to experience having FRIENDS. :D

-I feel like Giyuu enjoys being around sunny and cheerful people like Rengoku, so it makes sense that he'd also enjoy Mitsuri's presence! But I think Giyuu wouldn't know how to approach them, which is how my oc Akari comes into the picture!

-Akari has a lot of things in common with Mitsuri, but she also sympathizes with Giyuu's tendency to isolate. Akari is close to both of them so Giyuu and Mitsuri also became friends through her!

-Mitsuri would cheer on Akari about her crush on Giyuu, and she would try to play matchmaking with them.

-Mitsuri would happily share Giyuu her advice on what gifts to give Akari (and she would not to subtly give him some love advice. XD)

-Eventually Giyukari and Obamitsu would go on double dates. I imagine Obanai gets comically annoyed by Giyukari interrupting his alone time with Mitsuri, and the latter being somewhat blissfully unaware. (I made this meme back when barbie hype was at its peak)

-It's funnier in my head imagining Mitsuri and Giyuu getting along just fine, while Akari and Obanai are trying their best to be civil XD

-Mitsuri and Akari are also third wheels to each other's respective relationships! Akari supports Obamitsu but she doesn't get along with Obanai, so she's mixed feelings about it. 🤣

-All three of them would also bond over their attachment towards Nezuko! (Akari and Nezuko both have a shared hobby of sewing) which is why I drew them all together here!

-Thanks to Akari and Mitsuri's hobby of serving looks XD Giyuu gets influenced a bit and starts expressing the inner flamboyant side of him that he doesn't get to show much! (by that he'd just like simple and relaxed clothing lol)

So uh yeah those are my headcanons for now, thanks for coming to my TED talk 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

#my post #my art #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny fanart #kimetsu fanart #kny oc #kimetsy no yaiba oc #demon slayer oc #giyuu tomioka #mitsuri kanroji #obamitsu #nezuko kamado

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ewesless · 2 months

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FURIOUS at the Misogynists and Lesbophobes in OM Fandom

A few recent confessions about Thirteen made me MATI so this is my rant.

Thirteen still does traps on MC, she is still a prankster and inventor, but she gets sidelined hella hard and is usually limited to one or two cameos with MC or a brief interaction with other characters. She's never going to be antagonistic to MC.

Girl is not their priority despite being a love interest. She gets shoved in the background or not sexualized even when male characters get a ton of stupid fanservice. I can only assume the artists and writers are walking on eggshells with her because of lesbophobes and misogynists or shallowly appealing to the "We're different! We don't sexualize women 😁"

She has feelings for MC the fastest because they get along and she's attracted to them. Their chemistry is explored quickly in Chats in OM, but I doubt most of you will reach those because of how late in the series the newbies appeared.

She asks them on dates and shows up "by coincidence" A LOT because she likes them and wants to spend time with ONLY THEM frequently. In events she only shows up for MC (or texts them) and then gets shoved out of the story entirely because OhHhHh she's sooooooo antisocial~ Despite initially being reluctant to game with MC, the bros and Mephisto she really enjoyed it and their company!

Thirteen likes MC's bedroom whereas Mephisto was unimpressed with MC's room and insulted it.

She didn't go googoo gaga for no reason about MC, MC's soul is beautiful and attracted her. She wants to have it "when you're done with it" instead of reaping it. How in the hell does that imply she doesn't want to let them go? JUST LIKE THE BROS AND SIDES.

ANOTHER THING. Thirteen doesn't like people dropping in at her house and doesn't invite them either. She invites MC in chats to see her and I wish that MC would visit her more.

THIRTEEN WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE SIDES AFFECTED BY MISSING MC. She loves them and misses them as well as let them close to her when already stated she's anti-social and aloof. She has a broken heart button on her RAD uniform that she sewed on herself along with the other heart buttons. It makes me wonder about her past and that she's opened herself up to MC and love even though her heart was/is broken.

And if MC isn't into things like cosmetics, shopping and other "girly" interests it's possibly to reject her/hanging out. She likes to treat them to coffee, desserts and shopping trips whereas multiple other characters use that as bribes or rewards or leeching off MC's wallet.

Mephistopheles has a low opinion of MC and Raphael is indifferent to them. Suddenly getting feelings in events makes no fucking sense.

Mephistopheles opens up to MC in the main story and contacted them to brag about his brother, but in his birthday call on year 2 he is suddenly into them and wants to get to know them???

Raphael isn't even friendly with MC in the story, the Raphael we met has been Michael in two out of three instances. He suddenly starts talking about "feeling something for MC" when he went up against Barbatos who was the hardest won Love Interest in the game.

Fuck off, seriously fuck off with the homophobia/misogyny. She is our love interest not yours and not a rival or antagonist.

Shipping Thirteen with any of the scrotes ROYALLY pisses me off because I HATE straight couples and M/F. I kept that to myself, for the most part, but if some of you are hating on shippers for shipping gay couples and exclusively want your scrotes to yourselves Thirteen fans can too. Stop shipping the one female option off in male relationships when it's literally just to get her away from your man. Making up a male MC or a political lesbian MC is BULLSHIT and looking for attention and asspats for being inclusive.

Po/rn is an inherently misogynistic and objectifying exploitation of women's bodies and sexuality and should not EVER be used to make sexy art of women in my opinion. One of the pics I hate most is her jerking off two faceless/mob characters in a subjugated pose. That was backhanded, hateful and degrading.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me thirteen #obey me 13 #vent

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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year

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Woman

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: all the phases of your relationship with Eddie. Based off of the song 'Woman' by Mumford and Sons.

warnings: reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. talks of bad upbringings, bad relationships, reader gets cheated on. swearing, fluff, angst, smut. 18+ MINORS DNI. if there are any grammar errors, no there's not :) the ending feels rushed so lets not talk about it.

a/n: hi guys i'm honey and this is the first time I've written something since I was 15. I'm not new to this fandom but this page is, so I hope to write more things over time. Please be kind to me or else I'll cry.

The golden rays of the sun filter in from the open window, cascading a pretty glow into the bedroom. A gentle breeze flits through the room, carrying the songs from the birds in the trees. Eddie’s not too sure what time it is, how long he’s been awake, or if he even fell asleep, all he knows is he’s been staring at you. He knows how creepy it might be to do so, he just can’t help it. How beautiful you look shimmering in the morning sunlight like some sort of religious being, a true picture of a goddess laid beside him - his own personal Aphrodite. He marvels at you like you’re a painting on the ceiling of the Sistine chapel. His eyes trace over your features, soaking them all up so he can remember you like this for the rest of his life. Everything about you is perfect, a statue carved from marble by Michelangelo himself.

He’s intoxicated by the scent of you, the vanilla soap you used the night before when you took a shower after work, filling his nose with every breath he takes. His fingertips slowly drag along your skin as he maps out the slope of your body. His touch is featherlight, too worried that his calloused fingerprints will ruin the softness of your skin. He always wonders how you manage to be so soft all year round, albeit knowing you always moisturize, he likes to think it’s all you and not some expensive ass lotion.

Your hair is a bit messy from being tossed and turned on all night, and yet it has never looked so perfect to him, he would never mention it to you knowing you’d scoff in disagreement. Every once and a while, your eyebrows pull together or your lips twitch. He likes to think you’re dreaming of him.

Eddie is one hundred percent sure that if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores falling from your lips anchoring him to the bed, he'd ascend into the clouds above. Eddie Munson is not a religious man, but he thanks whatever God is up above for sending an angel like you to him. He never understood the people who hand out pamphlets about religions, devoting their whole being for their God, but now he does because he’d do it for you. The poor son of a bitch would build churches and museums in your honor, scream from rooftops, move mountains, and ultimately sacrifice himself for you. Even if it’s sacrilegious to pray to a statue of you, he’d do it every day and night, asking for salvation. No, he wasn’t a religious person but for you, he would be.

From the time Eddie was born, the cards that were dealt to him were just unfair. His mom and dad never loved each other, always screaming and fighting every day creating a war zone instead of a household. After his mom left and his dad was shipped off to prison, his Uncle Wayne took him in. Although he and the older man loved one another, they never really said it, only ever showing it by doing little things for each other. Every father’s day he’d save up money from doing odd jobs around the trailer park to get Wayne a new mug. Wayne always picked up new patches for Eddie to sew on to his clothes or guitar strings anytime he had the extra cash. It was unspoken but they knew they loved one another like father and son.

When he got to high school, girls never looked his way and if they did they never wanted to keep him. Doing whatever they could for a deal on some bud and leaving. It became a routine for the metalhead, he’d get off, they’d get cheaper weed, and they’d go their separate ways. Eddie knew he was disposable and that was fine with him. Hell he was used to it by now, his parents didn’t want him, the girls at school and the hideout didn’t want him either, but he had Wayne and his friends. That's all he needed. Until he met you.

It was a shitty September day, the kind of shitty where it’s nothing but gray clouds and no hint of the sun. Leaves had started to die away, slowly falling one by one just to be picked up and whirled around by the wind. The chill of the air started to colder by the time Eddie had left work. If the weather wasn’t miserable enough, the customers he’d dealt with definitely were. One by one they crept into the shop, complaining about popped tires and arguing over wait times. Also, it didn't help that the garage was getting colder with the changing weather. No matter how many layers he wore, it never subdued the throbbing pains in his back and knees. Yeah he had a pretty shitty day but it wasn’t something a new book and a cold one would fix. When he approached the small bookstore on Main Street, he could feel the relief wash over him. Making his way over to the new release section, he picked up what he had been looking for.

He was busy reading the back cover of the book to notice you walking down the aisle. To be fair, you should have been paying more attention to where you were going, but the books in your hands had your attention, stopping you from seeing the cute man that you were close to coming in contact with. With a loud thud, your bodies collide causing you to drop the books you’d been holding. Eddie immediately bent down, picking up what had been dropped, too busy apologizing for being in the way to even see who he was speaking to. Then he heard your voice, so saccharine and smooth it knocked his breath from his chest. Finally moving his gaze to you, he was blinded by the light you had brought in. To this day he jokes about it, telling you how you’re the personification of the sun on a cloudy day. He’s sure he made a fool out of himself with the way he tripped over his words and blushed too hard any time you spoke. It didn’t matter though, because you’d giggle and he’d redden more and more. That day Eddie left the bookstore with his new book and your number clutched in his palm.

September 20th, 1987, that was your first date and that date would be seared into Eddie’s brain for the rest of his life. He called you earlier that week asking if you’d want to get coffee, and you were quick to agree. Never being on time for anything in life, Eddie made sure to arrive twenty minutes before you planned on meeting. To say he was nervous would be an overstatement, he was a god forsaken mess. Knees shaking with every passing second, palms sweating from pure anxiety. Ever the gentleman, he ordered you a coffee, something the barista had whipped up after he told them he didn’t know what you liked. Taking a seat near the window, he instantly regretted guessing your order. God what if she doesn’t like it? What even was it? Cinnamon, caramel, peanut? Oh Jesus, you were probably allergic to nuts. Good going Munson, you just killed your date, he thought to himself.

Before he could throw the drink away, the bell above the door chimed. When he looked up, he swore the gates of heaven opened up. The pretty white dress you wore swayed with the small breeze that followed behind you. You’d look heaven sent. When your eyes met his, you lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree, a big smile etched on your face to prove it. You were so pretty and it made his heart beat out of his chest. He’s sure he looked like a total goof, like a giant puppy excited to see their owner coming home. All the thoughts he had in his brain, the opening line he had thought up to say to you, had all been thrown out the window.

By the time you had made it to him, he had been standing up. Before you could reach for a hug or handshake, his arm shot out with the cup of coffee he had bought you, the same one he was about to throw away twenty seconds ago.

“I um, I got you a coffee.” His cheeks turned pink as he handed you the cup. Then all the thoughts of your possible nut allergy came back. “It’s cinnamon caramel peanut or something. If you don’t like it I can get you a new one.” You laughed and he didn’t care if it was at him or with him, because he would do anything to hear it again.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You smiled again. “It’s a cinnamon dolce latte, by the way.” He tilted his head in confusion, wondering how on earth you knew that. When you turned your cup to show the black sharpie, he dipped his head in pure embarrassment but then you giggled again and he didn’t feel as bad.

The two of you sat in the corner by the window for what felt like hours, talking about anything and everything. Eddie told you about his job at Frank’s garage, about his friends and uncle Wayne. The metalhead turned bashful when he mentioned his D&D group, but he was quickly relieved when you told him how cool you thought it was, always wanting to play yourself as a kid but your brother never wanted to teach you how. He told you about his sweetheart and his band, how he used to think he’d be a rockstar one day. With every little detail he told about himself, you looked at him with such adoration and it made his heart squeeze.

He sat and listened as you told your story about packing up your car and leaving your old life behind. You needed a new start you told him, one where you could truly be happy. Once you’d gotten here, you found a cozy little house on Biel Street. Apparently the man who sold it to you, is the nephew of the woman who runs the floral shop in town. Within a week you’d gotten the job. It was definitely a change up from your old life, switching out pencil skirts and kitten heels for your office job to jeans and sneakers for your new laid back one. City life was definitely different from the small town you’d chosen but it’s what you needed.

You’d recently ended a two year relationship with your shitty ex and even if it didn’t seem rational at the time, you quit your job and moved on. He didn’t push much on the topic of your ex and neither did you but you made sure to reassure him that you were over the whole situation. Eddie learned that you had a brother living in Chicago and your parents had long moved to Florida after they retired. The metal head made sure to make mental notes of every single thing you told him. How you won’t talk in the morning until you have a sip of coffee, how you like to annotate your books even if it’s frowned upon by others, and that you hope to get a cat one day.

He walked you to your car that night, even though it was twelve feet away from his own. The look in your eyes was the same way he felt, neither of you wanted to leave. Trying to drag out the minutes as long as you could, you leaned against your car door fiddling with the sleeves of your cream colored sweater.

“I had a really good time Eddie,” sincerity dripping from your words. You looked so stunning standing there, highlighted by the moon and glow of the street lights.

“I did too,” blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but would you like to go out again sometime?” He hoped you didn’t hear the nervousness in his words.

“Yeah,” you said sweetly, “I’d really like that.” You beamed up at him and he was a goner.

That night, you kissed him.

No drug could give him the same high the way your lips on his did. On the drive home, his cheeks ached from how much he grinned. When he got into bed that night, he stared up at the ceiling forcing his brain to play out the events over and over again.

“She kissed me.”

The heat coming from the Harrington’s fire pit wraps the backyard in a blanket of warmth, beating off the nipping bite of the mid October breeze. The sky above is clear of any clouds to hide the small twinkle of the stars, the moon hanging high above the backyard. The leaves fall from the trees in red, orange, and brown piles. You and Eddie had been seeing each other almost every other day since that first date. It had been a month to be exact, not like Eddie was counting the days or anything.

For the past couple of weeks, you had been the discussion of every conversation he had with his friends. They wanted to know when they’d get to meet you, if you guys were officially dating, what you were like. Honestly, he kicked himself the first time he brought you up because he knew there would be thousands of questions to follow. Eddie knew that it was because they cared for him, wanting to make sure that whoever he had been seeing had their seal of approval.

So when Steve mentioned having a bonfire last weekend, he knew it was a secret ploy to meet you. You talked about wanting to meet his friends, yet he was terrified at the idea of you meeting the gaggle of idiots. Dustin would probably bring up some embarrassing memories, like how he shot coke out of his nose at lunch that one time. It made his head spin with every embarrassing thing that he’s ever done in his life, all the things that would pop in his head at random times that made him full body cringe.

The minute he brought it up to you though, you jumped up and down excited that you’d finally get to meet them. He knew he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you had that look of giddiness. Eyes big with elation, infectious smile, clapping your hands together, kind of excitement. God, he could never say no to you.

Now you’re here and you can’t be any happier. Eddie stands across from you, separated by the dancing flames of the fire. He’s standing with a beer in his hand, the story that Robin and Steve are telling becomes background noise. He’s honed in on you, on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. Max and El are talking to you about something he can’t hear, whatever it is you’re drinking it right up. Butterflies dance in his stomach at the sight of you. You’re enjoying the people that Eddie enjoys, and it fills him with so much pride. His favorite people are getting along, all in the same space. If his nine year old self could see this backyard right now, he’d be blown away. Everyone here cares for him, and he cares for them, something that he never thought he would have.

“It’s kind of creepy to stare ya know,” Steve’s voice cuts through Eddie’s internal monologue. The long haired man takes a swig of his beer trying to pretend like he didn’t just get caught like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about man,” he mutters out. Avoiding any eye contact with the people in front of him, taking interest in the sight of his scuffed up reeboks.

“Oh man, Munson’s got it bad,” Robin butts in. Heat from embarrassment creeps up Eddie’s face. He hopes no one notices, ready to blame it on the warmth of the fire beside them.

“Guys stop it,” Nancy chimes in, “I think it’s sweet.” The brunette sends him a small smile. The metal head sends her one back in a small thank you.

“Never thought I’d see Eddie Munson have heart eyes over a girl,” Robin mumbles over her red solo cup. Dustin nods in agreement.

“Yeah it’s kind of gross, to be honest.”

“Shut it, Henderson,” Eddie hissed, “besides, there’s nothing wrong with having heart eyes for my girl.”

He looks over the group and he’s met with silence and wide eyed stares. Raising an eyebrow, he turns to see what’s caused everyone to suddenly shut the hell up. When he turns his body, he goes rigid with the sight of you. When did you get over here, you were just talking to the girls on the side of the fire. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He just called you his girl and you weren’t even boyfriend/girlfriend yet, at least you never officially talked about it. He can’t read you and it’s scaring the ever living shit out of him.

After what feels like an eternity, he sees it. The way your eyes glitter, how you're biting on your lower lip fighting off the impending grin that’s due to break out on your face. Your arms wrap around his body, and you snuggle into him. His heart starts to beat again, this time it feels like it’s beating too fast.

It doesn’t take long for the group to move on to another conversation, slowly forgetting the awkward pause that just happened. Eddie’s mind races, scrambling to find the words to say. It doesn’t matter because you’re speaking before he can.

“I like that,” your voice is soft when you say it, yet he can still hear it. He glances down at you and you’re already craning your neck to meet his brown eyes.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” He’s surprised how cool he’s being for someone who just embarrassed himself in front of a whole group of people.

“Being your girl.”

After making it official, Eddie pondered the thought of you meeting Wayne. He knew it needed to happen, he just didn’t know how to go about it. This was all new to Eddie, he never had a girlfriend so he never had to worry about this kind of thing. So for the past week he practiced how to go about asking you, reassuring you it was okay to say no if you thought it was too much too soon. He had the perfect plan, he’d ask you when you were having movie night at your place, casually bring it up over dinner, and go from there. It was a good plan, but Eddie is an idiot and he can’t help but fumble when he’s around you. His palms were sweating and his knee bounced at an obnoxious rate, if you noticed you never mentioned it. He doesn’t even realize he said anything until your chewing stopped, going completely wide-eyed. The first thing he thinks of doing is running, bolting for your front door leaving you in the dust, but then you kiss him. All the anxiety leaves his body the minute it happens.

At first he thought it would be simple, invite his uncle over next weekend and order take out for the three of you. Then you scoffed, telling him you would die before you would have his uncle eating take out when you had a perfectly good stove. That whole week, you’d call him after work asking what his uncle liked and disliked, if he had any allergies or personal preferences. Out of the pair of you, you were more enthusiastic about the whole thing, and it made his worry subside. However, your enthusiasm slowly became overthinking every small detail.

Music blasted on your radio, loud enough he could hear from behind your front door. When you failed to answer the knocking after a minute or two, he let himself in. That’s when he found you standing on tiptoes, feather duster in hand, reaching for the picture frames on the mantle hanging above your tv. Your hair was pulled up into a bun, frizzy and damp from sweat. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up to your elbows and one of the legs of your sweatpants had been awkwardly pulled up higher on your calf than the other. Your usually clean apartment looked even more sterile now, walls looked brighter, and the air smelled even more clean than before. When you had called him earlier to ask if he was still staying the night, you mentioned that you had taken the day off to have a personal day. He thought maybe you’d relax or go shopping, he did not imagine you taking the day off to sit and clean every square inch of your house.

Leaning on the door frame, he took this time to quietly admire you. The way you sang the words of whatever Madonna song was playing, how your hips swing to the music, how you wipe your brow every once and a while when a sweat bead drips down. He can’t help but feel giddy when he watches you, heart growing bigger and bigger, like the grinch, with every second that passes. He wants to pinch himself sometimes because he is so lucky that he has you. You’re so fucking beautiful and you chose him, even though you could have anyone you wanted, you still chose him.

You jump almost ten feet in the air like some cartoon the minute you notice his presence. It makes him laugh and you clutch your heart trying to catch your breath.

“Babe, what the hell? You gave me a heart attack,” you walk over to your stereo, turning it down to an acceptable level. You set your duster down on your coffee table and make your way over to him. Rolling down your sleeves and trying to push down all the frizziness of your hair, he takes notice that you're shy, like he’s not supposed to see you like this.

“Sorry baby, I knocked but you had that god awful music playing,” there’s no real malice behind his statement. He makes his way over to you, making sure to take his shoes off first. He pulls you into a hug, relishing the way his face fits in your neck. “Hi baby,” his voice vibrates off of your skin. You're the first to pull away and he misses your warmth.

“As much as I want to hug you, I’m a disgusting mess,” you complain.

“Ex-cuuuse me, ma’am, but you are no such thing,” he gasps, placing a palm over his heart acting as if you wounded him. His little act pulls a snort from you and it makes him beam.

“What’s all this anyway,” he questions, “Don’t tell me you did all this work when you took the day off.”

You shrug your shoulders, trying your hardest not to look too bashful, “I wanted to clean for Sunday. Ya know, make a good first impression on your uncle.” His chest swells with pride at the thought of you doing all this just because you’re meeting his uncle.

“My sweet girl,” he coos, “You didn’t have to do all this. Your house is already spotless as it is.” Your face rests in his palms, your shoulders dropping with ease at the action.

“I just want it to be perfect,” you whisper and he melts. If he was being honest, he could cry over the whole thing. No one, especially a girl, has ever done something so thoughtful for him. The last time a girl has ever done anything relatively nice for him, was in sixth grade when Stacey Leannski gave him a pencil when he forgot his.

He grins, shaking his wild curls, “Babe, I can assure you that Wayne is going to love you, washed walls or not. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to curl up on that lovely couch of yours and watch Grease for the millionth time,” He jokes, you roll your eyes swatting at him. You agree, but only after you take a quick shower to rid yourself of the sweat and grime of the day. He accepts, telling you he’d order pizza while he waits.

Now showered and pizza devoured, the empty box sitting on your table to prove it, you two sit in the glow of the television in front of you. You’re sitting side by side, head resting on his shoulder, your attention on the movie. He feels overwhelmed by you, you're taking over all of his senses and he’s not sure how to handle it. The scent of whatever you used in the shower floods his nose, the heat of your body burning into his side, the softness of your bare legs on his, it’s all too much and he feels like he’s going to explode.

Eddie isn’t a virgin, far from it, so he knows what it’s like to burn with that desire, leaving your house after heavy makeout sessions, foot to the floorboard racing to get home to take care of the situation in his pants. Albeit not having sex yet, which he was one hundred percent fine with, he definitely felt aroused by you. Christ, you were the face of all his fantasies when he was in the comfort of his own home, hands down his pants, your name falling from his lips in quiet chants. This wasn’t that feeling at all, this was something completely different and it terrifies him.

He’s shaken from his train of thoughts when he notices the weight of your head on his shoulder is gone. He turns his attention to you, you’re all bright smiles watching Frankie Avalon serenade Frenchie. His eyes fall to your lips as you mouth the words, plump and pretty enough for him to kiss you. The illumination from the tv falls around in a halo like way, hair still damp from your shower, your shirt two sizes too big, you look ethereal like this. For a second the world goes quiet, time seems to pause, it feels like it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters to him at this very moment. That familiar ache returns, this time it’s stronger. The beat of his heart is erratic, the sound muffled in his ears like there's big clumps of cotton in them. His breath hitches, and his eyes bug out with realization. This isn’t an overwhelming feeling of arousal, oh no, that’s not what this is.

This feeling is you, picking and carving away at his heart, hollowing out a spot for yourself. This is you pouring yourself into his veins, circulating yourself through his bloodstream. This is you squeezing the air out of his lungs, sucking it right out of him for yourself. This feeling is you branding yourself on his soul, leaving your mark on him for the rest of his natural born life.

That night, he didn't get any sleep. He’s too busy with the feeling of your body pressed to him, the warmth of you seeping into his skin. Even with the heaviness of his eyes he can’t seem to shut off his mind, too busy thinking about how in love he is with you. He’s not sure when he’ll tell you this, but he hopes when he does, you feel the same way.

Eddie was going to jump into the nearest traffic if he had to spend one more second in the grocery store. The lights were starting to get too bright, the music a little too loud, and he swears it wasn’t as packed in the store when you got here - which was like an hour ago, but who’s counting. He wanted to say something, he really did, but when he gazes over at you he can’t bring himself to burst your bubble. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth while you hold two different cans of vegetables in your hand, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two labels. You looked so adorable standing there, it almost makes him forget about wasting his whole Sunday morning there. Almost.

“Baby,” he coos, “Just pick one, yeah? I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Ringed hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him as he rests his head on top of your own. You sigh, pulling your body away from his, too soon for his liking.

“I know you said your uncle doesn’t like green beans but I’ve never made a stew with peas before. I mean I know you can use both, I just, I don’t know,” you ramble, pouting your bottom lip out and it takes everything in not to kiss you stupid.

“Wayne is a grown man, he can pick around them,” Eddie reassures you. He spots the look of hesitation on your face. Before you can argue your next point to him, he wraps his arms around your waist once again. “I promise you, he will love it no matter what. Now stop worrying that pretty little head of yours and let's get a show on the road, I have a hot date to get to,” He bops your nose and you blush. “There she is,” he says, “There’s my girl.”

“Okay but,” you put more emphasis on the last word, “If he hates it, I’m blaming you,” You playfully scowl at him. Placing the can into the cart, Eddie grins at you in victory, “That’s okay babe, I can handle the old man for ya.” You roll your eyes at him and he pretends like he doesn’t see the small crack of a smile growing on your face.

Eddie was right, like he knew he would be, Wayne loved your cooking and even better, he loved you. Wasn’t so shocking to be honest, you’re a wonderful person and everyone you meet instantly falls in love with you because of it.

The air of the night is a lot cooler than before, the sky much darker now that the sun had been replaced with the moon. The store bag filled with leftovers you packed for Wayne, rustled in the wind. The two men make their way to the truck, even though Wayne told his nephew multiple times he did not need to be walked out, the younger man ignored him and followed him out anyway. Not much is said between the two, Eddie overthinking what he would say to Wayne. Obviously he knew he needed to thank him, not only for coming, but for not embarrassing him.

“I just wanted to uh, thank you. Ya know, for coming over and stuff. Really ‘ppreciate it.” He fidgets with his rings. Eddie’s not sure why he’s so awkward saying a simple thank you, this was the man who raised him for heaven’s sake.

“ ‘re welcome kid,” Wayne gruffs out. Reaching for the handle on his truck, he places the bag of food on the bench inside. There’s another small pause as he reaches into the pocket of his old scuffed up carhartt jacket, pulling out his pack of reds.

“You love ‘er don’t cha?” He lights the cigarette that sits between his lips, taking a long drag and letting out a small cloud of smoke. The question makes Eddie’s eye’s bulge out of his head. He’s a blubbering mess, tripping over his own words not knowing what to say. His cheeks burn harder when his uncle chuckles.

“I taught ya well son,” Wayne slapped his hand on his shoulder, “treat her right, ya hear? She’s too good of a girl, don’t wanna see you breakin’ her heart.” Eddie nodded dumbly to Wayne's words.

While Eddie makes his way back into your home, he mulls over what the hell just happened, he just got the shovel talk from his own uncle. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you. You’re standing at the sink, that adorable little dress you wear moving with you has you sway back and forth, humming a tune. His uncle's words ring out in his head. There was no way he would ever break your heart, he knows he never could.

The colder weather of winter makes its way across Hawkins, leaving trails of snow in its path. As cold seeps into your home, so does Eddie’s things. His shampoo bottles, deodorant, some of his clothes residing in the space in your drawers and closet that you’d left for him. He hadn’t officially moved in, it just seemed easier if he left some clothes over when he’d stay the night.

Your limbs tangle beneath the fortress of blankets that lay on top of you. Hushed voices and quiet laughter fill the room, like two small children sharing secrets at a sleepover. Eddie savors the feeling of your fingertips tracing lines onto his skin.

“Did I ever tell you the full story of why I moved?” You keep your attention to the tattoo that sits on his chest. He answers with a shake of his head, muttering no. Eddie knew the story you told him was a half assed attempt at pushing the subject away and he was never going to push you for the real reason, knowing one day you would do it when you were comfortable enough.

You take a deep breath, readying yourself for what is to come. “Well, as you know I have an older brother. My parents, they were really big with supporting him, ya know? Like they were always going to his baseball games, pouring all the attention on him.” You force yourself not to meet Eddie’s gaze, opting to trace random things on his exposed chest.

“He’s the golden child, the apple of their eyes, and then there’s me. I wasn’t anything special, just kinda there. Anyway, they were never really worried about me because as they said, I always had the option of marrying rich,” a dry laugh escapes your throat, “While my brother, he had something going for him. He was a star baseball player, and they knew he’d make it big. But then he got injured and couldn’t play anymore.”

“When my brother decided to work for an engineering company in Chicago, my parents felt like there was nothing left for them to do, so they retired and packed their shit. They just left me there, and it hurt for a while, I mean I was out of school by that point but still. The idea of them not wanting to stay for me, that shit fucked with me.”

Before he knows it, the light blue pillow case that sits under your head is now stained dark blue with your tears. Eddie’s seen you cry before, just last week you cried while watching The Breakfast Club, but this was not the same thing. Fat, heavy tear drops, rolling down your face, snot leaking from your nose, kind of crying. The sight itself makes his own chest constrict and all he wants to do is wrap you up in the biggest hug.

“I ended up getting a really good job at this company in the city. I was so proud of myself too, I was making a lot of money, and I had my own place. I ended up meeting Paul, my ex, at the bar one night. He was charming, handsome, and dressed well, so I thought he was safe. It was good for a while, really it was but looking back it was so bad, Eds. Like you wouldn’t believe the shit I put up with, but yeah I found out he was using some of the money I had hidden to buy his girlfriend gifts. That was only part of it but that was the straw that broke the camel's back, I guess. Anyway, I found out when I found him fucking her in his bed and the next day, I packed my shit and left. God, I guess you do end up like your parents after all, huh?”

When your eyes meet, the flood you had been holding back finally breaks. Without a second thought, he’s holding onto you as you sob into his neck. You never told him the full story on Paul, but what you did tell him, he wanted to find the guy and beat the piss out of him. The idea of someone, let alone your own parents treating you the way they did breaks his heart. He wishes he could take the pain away from you, he’d carry the weight of it on his own back if he had to.

Eddie’s not sure what to say or if you even want him to say anything, so he doesn’t. His hand pets the top of your head, soothing you, like a mother does to her baby. A flashback pops into his own head, him as a child in his bed, crying because his parents fought again. The memory of his mom coming in and rocking him, the way he’s doing now, easing his tears with a slow song. So he does the same for you.

Slowly, the vice grip you had on him eases up, and your sobs reduce to small hiccups. He doesn’t stop until he hears your breath even out. When he’s sure you're sleeping, he takes a second to appreciate you, for bearing your soul to him, removing the barriers that blocked him out. He vows to himself that night, that he will protect you from anything and everything for as long as you both live.

The glow of the Christmas tree lights reflect off of the living room window. Outside, small flurries rain down, coating the ground in layers of white. The scent of hot chocolate and cinnamon fill the small living room. It looked like an elf had thrown up everything jolly in your home, littering every square inch in something holiday themed.

Eddie wasn’t a big holiday kind of guy, never really having a reason to go all out for them when it was just him and Wayne. He thought you were going to have an aneurysm when he told you, with the way your face twisted up. You were quick to tell him that you’d be more than happy to have him over to celebrate, have his uncle join in the morning, and then meet up at Steve’s to have dinner with the group. Eddie wasn’t too thrilled on the idea, not because he didn’t want to spend it with you, but because he knew he wouldn’t be able to afford a bunch of gifts. Albeit you reassured him that you didn’t want anything, he couldn’t help but feel like you were lying to make him feel better. It wasn’t until he realized that you were not doing this just for him but you were doing it for both of the lost childhood you had, he agreed.

The two of you sit across from each other by the tree. Small boxes and bags hid underneath the fake branches, sitting pretty in the light of the colorful bulbs that hang. The uneasy feeling settles in his stomach when he looks at them. The amount of gifts that sit with your name doesn’t hold a candle to all the things that sit underneath for him. It was decided that you’d pick gifts out for each other and open them at the same time. Doubt fills his brain, but it’s quickly shut off when he sees you with the box he placed in your hands. You shake the small box back and forth, tongue poking out in concentration trying to figure out what could be underneath the paper.

Over the next few minutes boxes and bags are passed back and forth, paper ripped to shreds, and piled of gifts surround the both of you.

Beside you sit your pile of opened presents. The Cure’s ‘Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me’ album, a pack of colorful fuzzy socks, your favorite candy, a new mug with a black cat painted on it, Fannie Flags novel ‘Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe’, along with highlighters and new pens for annotating.

Eddie’s pile isn’t as neat as yours, all haphazardly thrown next to him with care. A pack of new socks because he never seems to have one's without holes, a pair of new work boots, a new Metallica band shirt, a sketchbook and pencils for his D&D doodles, a bottle of Calvin Klein’s ‘Obsession for Men’, Anthrax ‘Among the Living’ album, and a pack of guitar picks.

“These are perfect, thank you baby.” A dimpled smile appears on Eddie’s cheeks. Leaning over to reach you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You’re welcome. I love everything you got me. I promise not to finish my book too fast.” You joke. There’s a sense of pride written on your face. He’s not sure why he was so nervous for this, when he’d get to see you like this, truly like a kid on Christmas morning.

He can’t relish in the feeling too long, when he sees you grabbing a hidden present from under the tree. You hand him the small box, the red ribbon mocking him from where it sits in his hands.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me anything else, I thought we said-” before he can finish, you tut his response away, waving your hands for him to stop. “Shush, it’s nothing big I promise. Now open it.” He can’t refuse when you look at him like that, cheshire grin shining brightly at him.

He pulls the ribbon off, letting it slowly fall to the floor. Opening the box, he’s met with a golden shine. A key sitting in a bed of tissue paper, confusion is written on his face when he pulls it from its place, the box falling to the floor with a small thump. When he looks up at you, the once confident look you had is now replaced with a meek expression.

“I just thought, ya know since you’re here all the time it’d make sense for you to have your own. I just want you to have it in case I’m not here or something.” Your statement trails off. Before you know it, he’s tackling you in a hug. Wet sloppy kisses are placed on your face and you swat at him, giggling telling him to stop.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me, you know that?” He’s hovering over you. You beam up at him, wrapping your finger around one of his curls.

“You say that, but you still haven’t gotten your last gift.” You tease and he sits up, letting you up from your position on the floor.

Standing up, you hold your hand out to him. As you pull him along to your room, his heart is in his throat. He burns with embarrassment, feeling like an asshole because you’ve gone above and beyond for him and he has nothing for you in return. When you make it to your room, you gently push him on the edge of your bed, making him sit down. You nudge your way in between his legs, craning your neck down to meet his eyes. Before he knows it, the giant sleep shirt you were wearing is now on the floor, leaving you in the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

You stand there, red lace hugging your body, every curve he’s dreamed of seeing, are now in arms reach. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, drool falling from his mouth, Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. You were such a sight to see, standing there, shy as can be, looking like a wet dream.

“You can touch me, Eds.” It takes him a minute to realize what you just said to him. He slowly lets his hand reach out from you, tracing the intricate detailing the lingerie that sits on your body.

Standing to full height, he kisses you, so soft and slow. When you reach your hand down to brush over the front of his groin, it picks up a notch. Gnashing teeth and tongue, he feels like a feral animal and if he doesn’t do something soon, he’s going to bust in his pants like a teenager. He takes his time laying you down on the bed, too scared that you might break if he goes any faster. The clothes he wears are starting to become too suffocating, constricting his every movement. His clothes are off in a flash, sitting next to yours on the hardwood floor.

Eddie thinks he’s lost his goddamn mind, he must be having a realistic wet dream or something, because there is no way on earth this is happening. He’s waited for this moment for the past two months, imagining every single detail, but nothing would prepare him for the real thing. He’s hovering above, looking down at his perfect girl, wrapped in the prettiest dainty ribbon of sorts. Eyes going crazy trying to get every single detail memorized, scars, birthmarks, dimples - he wants to learn it by heart.

“ You‘re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” He doesn’t just say it because you’re half naked underneath him. He says it because you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. No playboy model, no random hook up, no groupie could hold a candle to the beauty you have.

“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” You look up at him through your lashes, puffy red lips stretched into that Colgate smile he loves so much.

He wants to hold those words with him for the rest of his life, lock them away for safekeeping. You have no idea what you do to him, how much you mean to him. You’ve dug your way into his life, flipping it completely upside down, and unlocking a side to him he never knew he had.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, sweetheart.” It’s out there, piercing the air like bullets from a starting pistol. Eddie’s the most vulnerable he’s ever been, giving you his heart on a silver platter. You’ve got him in the palm of your hand, able to crush his soul at any moment.

Reaching your hand up, you cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. He’s bracing himself for rejection, ready to tuck tail and run, but it never comes.

“Good, because I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson.” His eyes search your face, waiting to hear you tell him it was all a joke. He doesn’t, instead he sees you, just as vulnerable as him. Just two scared people of being hurt, letting their guard down, opening up themselves in the most raw way.

“You’ll still love me in the morning?”

“Always.”

For the first time in his life, he makes love - hands cradled together, foreheads touching, sweet nothings being shared. He doesn’t even notice when he starts crying, not until you wipe away the tears staining his cheek. He would be embarrassed but this is you, the girl who’s stolen his heart and invaded his whole life. When it’s over, you hold him, whispering sweet praises to the metal head.

When the morning light peaks through your curtains, you’re still there, holding onto him like you did when you fell asleep. You didn’t leave, didn’t regret the words that were shared between the two of you. Your promise rings in his head - always.

The bitter cold of March couldn’t beat the icy atmosphere in the car. No matter how many times Eddie called your name you refused to answer, turning your body more and more towards the window. Eddie knew something happened, he just didn’t know what. The night started off fine, meeting with friends to get food and drinks, big laughs and stories passed back and forth at the table. At some point something happened and you weren’t laughing anymore. Your big smile and bright eyes are replaced with a look he’s never seen before. He tried to get you to talk, begging you to just say something, only to be met with a scoff and crossed arms.

Pulling up to your house, you didn’t even wait for him to shut off the car to exit the car, slamming the door hard enough to make Eddie flinch in his seat. He wanted to puke, he hated this, he hated that he didn’t know what was making you so angry and he hated that he didn’t know how to fix it. Releasing a big puff of air, he follows you inside where he’s met with more slamming doors.

He doesn’t want to bombard you, so he decides to wait in the kitchen, where he starts to pace back and forth. He feels like he’s eight years old again after the first time he’d ever gotten in trouble at school, sitting outside the principal’s office in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, watching the clock go by as he waits to be called back. Although he’d get used to the feeling over time, he would never forget that first time, the way it felt when his stomach knotted up, shaky hands and trembling legs.

He hears the familiar click of the bathroom door open and he freezes, your figure ascends down the hallway, shuffling your feet along the wooden floors. Your hair you spent hours on styling to perfection is now thrown into a bun, your mascara now leaving black streaks on your face from crying, the outfit you took forever to pick out is now replaced with a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt.

Eddie watches as you reach for a glass from your cabinet, filling it with water from your faucet. At that moment he thinks it’s better if he keeps distance by staying in his corner of the kitchen, not wanting to approach you and scare you off. Screaming and yelling, that’s what he’s used to, standing in the middle of the battle front, dodging bullets left and right. Hurtful words being spat, so sharp and full of toxins, ready to leave scars after all the dust settles.

Silence, that was the real killer. It was the calm before the storm, the thickness in the air that made it harder and harder to breathe. It’d sneak up behind you, wrapping its hands around your throat, and slowly squeezing the oxygen out of your lungs. It was the uneasy feeling you get right before you head into the woods at night. It was able to sweep the rug out from under you, pulling you further and further into the darkness to no point of return.

He wants to say the right thing to you, he wants to mend the damage that’s been done, wrap you up in bandages and make it all better. He wants to pull you into shelter from the storm going on inside your brain, to hold on to you for dear life so that you don’t get sucked up in the twister of your thoughts. It’s written all over your face, the hurt, the anger, it’s all there for him to read - like a clue being left behind for him to find. There’s a war starting up inside of you, he can see the smoke signals from here, calling out for help. He wants to break in and stop it from happening, but he can’t - the brick wall that he worked endlessly at to break, is now back up again. This time it’s harder to tear down.

Although he’s never been the first in the firing line, Eddie’s armed and ready for the first hit. It feels like one of those western movies his uncle Wayne used to watch - two cowboys, guns drawn, ready to fire any second. The biggest showdown known to man is happening right here, in the small yellow kitchen of your home. There would be no shoot out this time, no knife-like words to leave damage, no wounds to heal. This time, you’re the first to put your gun down, wave your white flag in surrender.

You don’t tell him you hate him, you don’t tell him to get out and to never come back, you simply hug him. It throws him for a loop, the ticking time bomb that stood before him, defusing itself right before his very eyes. The rain that clouded over him is now washed out by the chirps of the birds, sun pushing its way to be seen once again. There is no fight to be won anymore, there is no mass destruction left in the wake of battle, left to be cleaned for another day.

He can feel the shaking of your body, vibrating with the cries you muffle in his shirt. The situation might be over, but you are still wounded from before, begging for some kind of mercy.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how to fix it.” He can smell the hair spray that sits on your hair, from where his nose rests. His big hand soothing you, rubbing over the cotton shirt that drapes your back. He means the words he says to you, he wants you to let him in again.

Your answer is hard to understand, obscured by the fabric of his shirt where you’ve shoved your face to hide.

“Sweetheart, you gotta speak up so I can hear you,” He coos at you. His sweet tone coaxes you out from your hiding spot. Pulling your face from the comfort of his chest, you peer up at him.

“Please don’t leave me.” It sounds so dejecting when it falls from your lips, like you're begging him with everything in you. It breaks his heart to see you like this.

There’s some parts of your brain that Eddie hasn’t explored yet. The darkest corners of your mind, so dark you’d need a flashlight, decorated in dust and cobwebs. All the secrets you’ve yet to reveal to him, filed away, locked behind a door - the key thrown somewhere for him to find. Eddie knows there’s parts of you that you don’t want him to see, too scared he’d criticize you the way people before him did. That was the thing though, he never would, no matter how scary or fucked up you thought you were.

“Honey, I’m not going to leave you, okay? S’just - I need you to tell me what’s going on, tell me what happened.” He’s pleading with you, trying to pull it out of you. Whether it gets him any further or not, it doesn’t matter, he just wants you to see he’s trying, trying for you.

“Will you still love me in the morning?” You’re retreating, going back behind that big brick wall. As much as Eddie wants to scream and shout for you to stop hiding, he knows that the storm within is at bay, at least for now. So he lets you retreat, lets you rest knowing he’ll be back hammering, no matter how long it takes.

“Always,” It’s hushed, quiet like the small flurries that fall outside of the window. Plump lips meeting the top of your head. Eddie knows he’s not getting any more out of you, both too winded and tired from the events tonight.

Cracks and fractures left behind from the people before him, it’s going to take time, he reminds himself. So many times you had told him it was best if he runs away, there’s too much damage and he deserves someone better. He thinks you’re wrong, you are someone better, you just can’t see it. You don’t see what he sees, the girl he fell in love with, he wishes you could because you’re the best thing that’s ever graced this fucked up planet. He’d plant you in front of the world’s biggest mirror if he had to, but he knows that you’d still only see half of what he does. So for now, he’ll keep reminding you until he’s blue in the face. Always.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader

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rhysdarbinizedarby · 11 months

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Our Flag Means Death Costume Designer Breaks Down Season 2's Punk-Pirate Looks

Gypsy Taylor explains the surprising historical details that influenced the 'rule-bending' comedy's costumes

Rhys Darby, Our Flag Means Death (Nicola Dove/Max)

[Warning: The following contains spoilers for the Season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death.]

Packing a ton of plot twists and emotional upheaval into a tightly paced eight episodes, Our Flag Means Death just concluded its tumultuous second season. Season 2 ends on a heartwarming note, with Ed "Blackbeard" Teach (Taika Waititi) and Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) settling down to open an inn together. This gives fans a satisfying happily-ever-after if the show ends here — although showrunner David Jenkins intentionally left things open for a potential third and final season, teasing a team-up between Stede, Blackbeard, and pirate queen Zheng Yi Sao (Ruibo Qian).

Along the way, Our Flag Means Death continued to deliver its unique brand of historical storytelling, offering a chaotic mash-up of 18th century sources and modern themes. Working in tandem with theatrical visual effects and a soundtrack featuring Kate Bush and Nina Simone, costumes play a key role.

To cap off the season, TV Guide spoke with costume designer Gypsy Taylor. Among other topics, we discussed Stede and Blackbeard's evolving wardrobe, the historical research behind characters like Zheng Yi Sao, and Taylor's favorite unsung costuming details among the supporting cast.

This season there's a lot of journey to the costumes. Characters are experimenting with self-expression. I'd like to talk first about Stede, who starts as a caricature of a foppish aristocrat, but looks a lot more practical this season. What was the vision for that look?

Gypsy Taylor: The story is that he's lost everything. Blackbeard's gone on a heartbroken rampage and he's destroyed everything that looks like Stede on the ship — which would include that wonderful wardrobe. You know, like how you'd throw your boyfriend's clothes in a box out the window.

Stede was on his boat heading to the island at the end of Season 1, just wearing this one outfit. We see him in a filthy version, he's been living in it for two or three months. Rhys [Darby] was a little bit disappointed because he was like, "Do I get to wear any rings?" And I was like, "No! You've lost them all!" Then as the season starts to go on, he starts stealing some other pirate clothes and he starts to get really sexy and come into his own gorgeous pirate self.

And he gets that cursed suit.

Taylor: The cursed suit was so much fun! That's the first time in months that he's seen something beautiful like what he used to own. It's on this Spanish ship, so we went with a dandy matador look. Rhys put the calico version of that on in the fitting room and instantly embodied this character. He was flicking the tails and spinning around and he stood up straighter and his butt clenched… It was magic to watch.

I love that dandy side of him. There's a lot going on in terms of gender presentation with the main guys. They're both trying to escape toxic masculinity, but Stede's also chasing this idea of being a badass, and then Ed is doing the opposite because he abandons his leathers. I'd love to hear your thoughts on that, and how Ed is for half the season wearing things like sackcloth and linen.

Taylor: The leather is very constraining, and it's very much his persona of Blackbeard. To lose all of that means he's lost his toughness, and that exterior that's sort of like armor. So we went straight for the opposite end and just put him in a rice sack that he'd made into a jumpsuit. The idea behind it was that Wee John had sewn it because he'd started to learn to sew and knit — the concept being that there [were] rice sacks below the decks, which was very common in pirate ships.

Once Buttons turns into a seagull, his clothes were left behind on the ship. So Blackbeard takes those linen clothes, and he's like, "This feels right, this is kind of light."

I don't know if you're able to speculate about Season 3, but given the symbolism of Ed's leathers, do you think we've seen the end of that outfit, or is it going to stick around?

Taylor: I can't say anything to Season 3, but I do know that in the finale the leathers magically come back. I had a conversation with [showrunner] David Jenkins because he says, "Well, we have to end the show with him wearing his Blackbeard leathers, that's what we all know of him." And I was like, "How the hell has he gotten them?" You know he's thrown them off the boat, into the ocean, never to be seen again. And David just turned to me and went, "He's Blackbeard, he can do anything." I thought that was pretty funny.

Taika Waititi, Our Flag Means Death (Nicola Dove/Max)

That's exactly the kind of fairy-tale logic the show thrives on.

Taylor: We often refer to it as Looney Tunes. It's not exactly historically correct. Funny sh-- happens and we all sort of took on that Looney Tunes theory of like, episodes change and something appears and then it doesn't.

The good thing with costume and pirates is that the way they get their outfits is they just steal them. So whatever we came up with, I was like, "Oh well, they run into a French ship and they've stolen a great leather jacket." Costume elements could appear based on that rule that pirates steal anything.

I'd love to hear a bit about the crew's looks. The show does a really good job of illustrating their personalities, but this season a lot of them also have this makeover where they start out wearing Blackbeard's goth/punk outfits, then change into something more comfortable.

Taylor: Characters like Izzy and Fang were already established in the Blackbeard gang, so we didn't change them too much. With Fang I added extra sperm whale teeth and extra studs. I got rid of his shirt and we covered him in tattoos. Time had passed and he'd evolved a bit. Izzy was very classic, so we didn't need to change him at all. He was pretty adamant not to be evolved as the other guys had been.

Frenchie and Jim, which are the biggest transformations we see, they've spent months at sea with Blackbeard, who is a tyrant. He's made them wear head-to-toe black, and they've had to piece together outfits from around the ship. So Jim is covered in all these ropes to make them look tougher, and their belt is a giant fish hook. Frenchie's an artist, and he's stolen a beautiful leather jacket — he's brought the little flag element into the back of his jacket with some embellishment. Then Archie just looks like she's picked out of a crowd of pirates from the Republic of Pirates.

As far as the other characters go, we continued on from Season 1 and just kept their same outfits, but three months later. They were stuck on an island, so I gave Wee John a little necklace that he'd tied out of old rings that he'd found. And we gave Olu some shells and pieces that they could've crafted on the island.

Once we see them all go to Zheng's ship, I wanted to keep elements of the Zheng uniform. So you see with Black Pete, he kept the shirt but ripped off the sleeves and got some new pants, and Roach kept the pants. It starts to become like a mesh of all the little adventures that they've gone through, or the trauma that they've gone through.

Our Flag Means Death (Nicola Dove/Max)

I love the contrast you mentioned between Izzy and the others. All the other characters are having fun experimenting with their looks, and Izzy is so static. Do you think he's more sure of his identity?

Taylor: Definitely sure of his identity, you nailed it there. He's also very sentimental, like he's got his mother's ring around his little scarf. You know his glove on his hand, he wanted to keep it on that hand and I was like, "Shall we add some studs to it?" And he was like, "No no, keep it as it is." He's just very much about routine and rules and sentimentality.

Even for Calypso's party, I was like, "How far do we wanna go?" Everybody's dressing up and covering themselves in flowers. Once we learned that he was singing La Vie En Rose I was like, "I think we should keep it classic." Just put a little rose here, and Wee John's done your makeup, and you'll look classic and beautiful.

This show has a really fun relationship with historical accuracy. I was interested to read that you do a lot of historical research, maybe more than other members of the creative team. How do you decide which characters should look more historical and which ones are more anachronistic?

Taylor: I always started with the historical first. I actually didn't know much about Captain Zheng, so I got really into the history of pirates. I would always start there, with that 18th century historical moodboard of the paintings that were done of them, or the etchings. Then I'd add our rule-bending concept, which was to make everything a bit more rock 'n' roll and a bit more streets of New York in the '80s.

I was able to push completely out of the historical, and put things like safety pins and screen-printing and bleach. You know, zips and studs, and all these things that are very 20th century costume elements, but on an 18th century silhouette.

Is Zheng based on a specific 18th century outfit?

Taylor: There's one really specific [etching], she's wearing those Chinese pants. I looked at a lot of 18th century Chinese work uniforms as well, I looked at one from a collection from a museum. We copied that exact neckline of an 18th century Chinese smock. The same with the shoes. I looked at some workers' shoes from the 18th century, and they had those kind of black ballet flats with a woven bottom and little white socks.

I was using beautiful Chinese silks and Japanese embroidery techniques that were used in the 18th century, and sort of mish-mashing it all together because she would travel the Silk Road through Egypt and Morocco, and collect all these fabrics.

Same with Anne Bonny. Again, there's some etchings of the real Anne Bonny — quite a famous one with her gun and her pants. I was like, "Oh yeah, I wanna start there and then I wanna sex her up a lot," because her and her girlfriend have a really great S&M relationship, really sadistic. I wanted to bring that fetish element into her. That's where the corset came from. We based that on an 18th century corset, but made it leather because it was more pirate-y.

The twist on her was that David Jenkins came to me and said, "This episode is basically Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" And I was like, "Great, I love that movie!" So I went home and watched that movie, and noticed that Elizabeth Taylor has this beautiful necklace and this patterned blouse. I was like, "Let's recreate this pattern on Elizabeth Taylor's blouse," which is set in the early 1960s. So we recreated it and then made an 18th century blouse.

Driver Minnie and Rachel House Our Flag Means Death (Nicola Dove/Max)

I feel like this season the villains are the most historically accurate. There's this contrast: Ned Low and Prince Ricky have a formal look, like with the British naval uniforms, and then the good guys have this anarchic vibe.

Taylor: Yeah, I never really wanted to mess with the uniforms. That was actually a really fun one to get historically correct. We had the proper frock coats and the heavy wools, and the heavy brocade. Ned Low and Ricky were very much straight out of an 18th century historical book. But then with Ricky, I gave him the one black lace Madonna-meets-Michael Jackson glove, just to mess with it a little bit.

With Ned Low, once we had his beautiful Paganini-inspired 18th century suit on, David Jenkins was like, "I just picture him being silver." We painted his suit silver, and then art department and props came up with a silver violin, and makeup put these silver teeth in. So he's instantly turned into a rock star.

Finally, are there any little details that you'd like to highlight for viewers?

Taylor: One of the background characters that I love the most is one of these pirates when Stede is the maitre d' at Spanish Jackie's. His first encounter with a customer is this horrible swearing pirate. I'd been listening to a pirate podcast that morning on the way to work, and I was learning all about how many rats were on board. I was like, "I reckon that pirate should just have a whole jacket made out of rats." That's what you'd do with all the dead rats, right? You'd have a little fur bolero.

I asked one of my team members to make me like a hundred little fur rats. She'd hand-sewn all the tails and little feet and ears. Then we built this vest and they covered it in blood and dirt, and made it all like wet rats that had been living at sea for a hundred years.

That's the kind of thing you might see a fan wearing at a convention, a really specific background character.

Taylor: God, I hope so. You'd have to get in real close to see there's actually little tails all over the whole thing.

I'm trying to think of another really sweet thing. That whole Silk Road thing was really interesting to me. I found this museum piece of a necklace that was all these little leather satchels that collected little pieces along their travels. We started making this beautiful piece, and we ended up giving it to Auntie. It's these little trinkets from Japan and Egypt and Morocco; she wears all her souvenirs around her neck close to her heart. There's a lot of little things like that where we go into great detail and I give a little backstory, but maybe no one will ever notice. Or they might! You never know!

Our Flag Means Death Season 2 is now streaming on Max.

Source: TV Guide

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