#i was having a bit of a hard time with this one+mostly on figuring out the comp. i think the symmetry was a bit lazy but it looks fine

[artsangell]

YUCK!

"Yuck, now you got me blushin'

Cheeks so red when the blood starts rushing

Yuck, that boy's so mushy

Sending me flowers, I'm just tryna get lucky"

(Loosely inspired by yuck, by Charli xcx)

Includes: Friends w benefits, smut(mdni), fluff, pining,idiots in love, hint of angst, slight Dom Art if you squint.

You're not exactly sure how it all even started. The routine you guys set up feels so natural, it's almost as if you guys were always meant be attatched to one another. To make the other person feel wanted and needed. Art is lying next to you right now, fast asleep with his blond curls mashed up against his pillow. You watch him for a bit, I mean it's so fucking hard not to, he's just so pretty. You're both naked. Though he's entirely stolen the cover from you in his sleep (not that you mind much). You watch his chest rise and fall for a few more moments before you decide to get up.

You get dressed and clean your face up a bit, when you return to the room Art’s has an arm over his eyes. He grumbles at the light surrounding the room, shifting for a moment before he removes his arm from his eyes. Pretty blue eyes watching you he says,

“ you sure you don't wanna stay the night? My bed has enough room. Promise.” It’s a struggle not to laugh at how groggy he sounds, it's also a struggle when you think about how you wish you could hear it every morning. the look he's giving you makes something inside you stir. It makes the idea of laying back in bed with him incredibly tempting.

“Yeah? I'm not sure about all that Art.” A laugh escapes you as you speak. “You have a twin. you barely even fit in your bed.” A chuckle that makes your chest ache leaves him, he sighs and looks at you like you're something special. like you're made of gold.

“You sure you don't want me to walk you back to your dorm? It's getting kinda late.” That puts a smile on your face, you lean forward to pat his cheek in mock affection. He melts into your touch, your hand stays there as you speak to him.

“I'm a big girl, but thanks. sleep tight Arthur.” A giggle, a high sound that makes you cringe leaves you at the look on his face.

An annoyed groan leaves him, “nevermind leave. You're evil.” The way he says it is unconvincing, it makes you feel fuzzy all over.

“Oh wow you weren't joking”

“Shut up.” you grumble.

Mostly annoyed, but a bit embarrassed.

You had invited Art over to your dorm so he could help you study, but it feels like all the information is going in one ear and out the other.

“Sorry, it's just you're like the smartest person I know. How am I of all people doing better than you.”

A frown etches on your face, college has been a bit hard on you. There's so much to do and rarely enough time, and when you do have time you just can't seem to focus. It feels like everyone knows how to manage everything, but you just can't seem to grasp how to even do slightly better than average. You know it's not true. You know college is tough at first for everyone and blah blah blah, But it's hard to feel like everyone goes through what you're going through, when you're adjusting to it worse than any of your friends are.

It feels as if Art can read your mind or something. You almost immediately see a crease between his brows, a look he gives you when he feels bad for you. When he wants to make it all better.You hate how it makes you chest ache. “How about we make this into a game?” His voice is soft in a way that makes your insides twist.

“A game?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion, trying to figure out what exactly he's up to.

“Yeah, like if you get this next question right-” at that he slides a hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb on the expanse of your upper thigh. “I’ll help you out. Would you be okay with that?” He looks into your eyes as he asks, you can't help but stare at the bit of brown he has in the left one. So pretty. You blink and you know you've been caught when you see a hint of a lopsided grin on his face.

“Yeah- yeah, I'd be okay with that.” you hate how shaky your voice is, it's not like you at all, but he just has a quality that brings it out of you.

“Good.”Art gives you a soft smile and lightly pats your thigh and it makes you want to scream.

“Ok. So what's the difference between descriptive and inferential statistics?” A frown appears on your face, you can't remember the answer.

“Um.. I don't know?” Art pinches your thigh at that, not hard enough to hurt but to correct you. It makes you let out a Soft gasp, you can't help but be a little turned on by it.(he doesn't need to know that.)

“That's not an answer. You know this come on, stop second guessing yourself. This is a really easy question you're overthinking.”

You take a breath in and try to think about what you've gone over , “descriptive gives a summary of the dataset and inferential is based on making predictions from a random sample.”

Art grins at you and shakes your shoulders playfully. “Good job! You got it right!” You can't help the laugh that escapes you, he grabs your face and plants kisses All over it. The attention only making you laugh more. “Knew. you. could. do. it.” Each word punctuated by a kiss, this time on your lips.

“Thought you were gonna reward me” it's basically a whine, you run a hand through his hair like it’ll get him to touch you faster, it will.

“Patience.” he laughs and slides to his knees beside you, clearly not being very patient himself. Art turns you in your swivel chair in his direction, he slowly glides his hands from your thighs to your hips. Quickly the blond before you glides your shorts and panties down. with the help of you lifting your hips for him. Slow kisses are pressed against your thighs, he's holding your upper thigh so you can stay still for him. Art makes sure to take extra time kissing the inside of your thighs, knowing it'll be torture for you. He peppers kisses there until you start to squirm. Finally he licks a stripe along your slit, he moans into you. Like he gets off on the taste alone.

“Taste so fucking good” the vibration of his words compels you to put your hand on top of his head, he immeaditly takes your hand off the top of his head to link his fingers with yours. A few more damn near torturous licks and you can't take it anymore. you need more so you tell him so, just like he taught you to.

“Art, please. Go faster.” You're out of breath, it's clear you can barely get those words out.

Art looks up at you and grins, pulling away from your cunt to do so. “Aww she does have manners, who would've thought.” It's like a switch flips when he touches you,he can't help but tease you a bit. Before you can rebuttal he dives back into you, sucking your clit with dedication to make you cum all over him. Its like he fucking craves it, well you can tell he does by the bulge in his jeans.

You cry out at the sensation. “Fuck- thank you, thank you, thank you.” Art squeezes your hand, he continues sloppily fucking you with his tounge. Your hips are already shaking, everything combined with the way he messily kisses your cunt makes you buck your hips into his face. Moans from the both of are filling the air.

Art’s tongue is merciless and all you can do is moan and whine and take what he gives to you.

“Shit, Art. I'm close please” you sound so whiny, in a way that would embarrass you if were in your right mind.

Wordlessly art sucks your clit with vigor, he gives your hand another squeeze, as if to calm you. You start to spasm around his tongue, body tense, legs shaking.

“Fuck.” you're breath hitches as you cum all over his face, letting out one last loud moan.

Art sits up on his knees to kiss you, you can taste yourself on him.

“You're so perfect.”

those words make you feel things you don’t that you should be, they make you think about how he'd never want to be with you outside of just sex. Its purely biological, he can't fully mean it when he says shit like that.

You pull away from him, his eyes are half lidded and his mouth slightly agape. You Standup abruptly. His eyes follow you in confusion, he's not quite sure what just happend.

“I’m sorry you should probably leave, thanks for… this.” You chew the inside of your lip.

Your words are awkward as they escape you, he knows you're clearly upset by something.

Art gets a furrow between his brows again and you can't help but want to kiss it away.

“You okay? I didn't do anything wrong did I?”

You quickly shake your head, “no, that was perfect. this was perfect,I just need to go do something.” Clearly lying through your teeth but he doesn't push any further.

Wide concerned eyes stare up at you, Art stands from his position on his knees using the arms of the seat as leverage. He’s in front of you now, giving your shoulder a squeeze as he leaves the room with a soft ‘goodbye’.

Suddenly, you don't think you can handle it. Pretending that having sex with him doesn't change how you feel about him in any way. When it does,

you wish things could go back the way that they were before.

[humanelemental]

Ok but picture this, Agatha goes on a life death?changing field trip with Billy. Probably they find Tommy and Wanda, and Wanda restores Agatha’s body since she kind of saved both her kids.

Rio expects Agatha to run as soon as her feet physically hit solid ground again, but she just…doesn’t. Like Rio shows up and is all, “what’s it going to be? Where are you going to run this time coward???”

And Agatha just looks at her, looks around, looks at her and is like, “did I not tell you to fix my damn yard?”

Rio is stunned. Like of all the responses. And Agatha is being (mostly) serious. She clearly expects Death (capital D) to do her damn landscaping. And before Rio can figure out how to react, Agatha is like, “that includes my door and sink. Who tf throws the actual kitchen sink at someone. It’s supposed to be a figure of speech, you overgrown hipster!” And just throws her hands in the air and starts towards the house. Rio is so flabbergasted that she just leaves for a bit. But not before fixing the door. Every time she comes back she expects Agatha to be gone, but nope, there she is, inexplicably hanging out in New Jersey. Sometimes she’s teaching the boys. Sometimes she and Wanda are having philosophical arguments (aka she’s also teaching Wanda but neither is willing to admit it. Rio refuses to leave until Wanda does on those occasions.)

Occasionally she takes trips to other places for various reasons. She nails a note to the door specifically for Rio with detailed instructions for Señor Scratchy and a plea to leave her damn azaleas alone. (Rio does not, and Agatha often comes home to a well fed bunny and man-eating flowers. How one makes azaleas man-eating is anyone’s guess, but Agatha’s money is on semi-divine spite.) Every time she returns to find Rio sulking on the porch. Which is odd because sometimes she has to rush out of the house to get in position. Like Agatha has started to walk up her driveway and seen Rio fling herself out the door and onto the front steps to glare at her. (Señor is a very relaxing bunny and sometimes Rio loses track of time ok.) Neither of them discuss this beyond Agatha rolling her eyes and inviting her back in for a drink or dinner or what have you.

This continues for a truly obnoxious amount of time until Rio finally decides that Agatha is done hiding from her and decides to become the biggest nuisance in existence. Agatha is always annoyed but she never sends Rio away. The worst she does is bitch and moan, and occasionally throw something at her ex-maybe current-wife. If she’s doing something truly important, or, more often, if it looks like Rio is thinking a little too hard about murdering the twins, she’ll tell her to go play somewhere else for a bit. Rio always snarls and growls but she usually heads off for a couple of days. The problem is almost always that she’s either bored or stressed. She always finds herself back in Westview to annoy Agatha eventually. (Sometimes if she’s in a very good mood, Rio will help with the twins’ lessons. But don’t tell anyone.)

Eventually they settle into what everyone else can tell is a relationship, but which they both firmly deny is anything more than a convent arrangement. They make this everyone’s problem, in true agathario fashion, but no one seems to really mind.

Idk, just something I have rattling around in my head.

[blueberri-blu]

Learning You...

Donnie ♡

[Bayverse] Slowly getting to know Donnie ♡

Leo ♡⁠˖ Mikey ♡⁠˖ Raph ♡⁠˖

Getting to now the turtles! A little Mini-Series!

Meeting Him:

Honestly? You probably met him through April or his brothers...

April decided to bring you over to the lair, after months of her dodging you wanting to meet her friends

So, as you walk into the lair, you meet Mikey first, ever excited for new friends

Then Leo comes to greet you like a "proper guest" (as leo puts it)

And lastly Raph just seems to stare at you a bit and give a grunt

Later, 1 of 2 things happens

Either Leo or April's drags Donnie out to greet you

Or your curious ass goes to see what's going on in the strange lab room

Once you see him, he greets you quickly and goes back to what he was doing in his lab

You follow him and start to ask questions about his many inventions

This won his heart (whether he knew it or not)

Befriending Him:

At first, it's hesitant questions, long awkward silences, and clammy hands

But after awhile he gets used to your presence

Your questions often help him, letting him see a new perspective

He appreciates any of your input, but not without a little bit of sass

That little turn around he does (in the gif), you can't tell me he isn't sassy

You two will get into little sass battles, one comeback after another

This helps you two get closer

You mostly spend time in his lab, with the occasional accompanying him for new materials or things he needs

You bring him food and water, setting alarms for him to remember to eat and drink

Spinning in your office chair, you give him insane scenarios for him to entertain you with the logistics of it all

"Hey Donnie, what if I wanted a fire proof phone?"

"well you'd need to find a thin enough material that doesn't melt under high heats, a material such as steal, however you'd need to figure out how to combat the heaviness..."

And that's when he start getting comfortable ranting to you

He'll go on hour long rants about many things, allowing you to interrupt him to ask questions about what things mean and such

Donnie loves when you ask him these questions, he feels like, even though you don't understand him completely, you still try hard to take interest in him

First Date!

You probably have to ask him out,

You guys develop a situation ship sort of thing

And although he wants more, he doesn't want to ruin what you have

You end up asking Donnie "What are we"

And that's when poor Donnie's brain is racing a mile a minute

He starts stammering and doesn't know how to proceed, but eventually sighs and tells you how he feels

He's ecstatic when you tell him you feel the same!

Donnie stresses so much on dates ideas

Eventually, he decides he wants to take you out of the lair for once

You share your favorite foods with each other, both sickeningly sweet feeding eachother

He takes you for a ride in the shellraiser

You eventually get to a large field of pretty grass, noticing it's very far from the city

You give him a questioning look, but he just responds with "I wanted to make sure you knew this was special to me" while giving you a shy smile

You have a little picnic with Donnie, far from the city

He wanted you two to have a special moment without the bustling of the city or his brothers

Although you're both nervous, soon you start talking about anything that comes to mind

Soon Donnie starts to feed you, like the sickeningly sweet romantic he is

You're both giggling and talking in hushed voices

You end up cuddling and whispering sweet nothing's in each other's ears

Dating!

With Donnie you are never missing anything

He tries his best to make your life easier

You're clumsy and your phone keeps falling? He makes a practically indestructible phone case in your favorite color (he secretly hopes it's purple)

Your toast never comes out quite how you like it? He makes a toaster that makes your toast exactly how you like it (and maybe even a coffee maker that makes it ready to drink)

Donnie sometimes struggles with giving you the time outside the lab you (let's be honest, him too) need.

Sometimes you struggle to get him out of his lab, but with a little convincing (and kicked puppy eyes) he'll usually cave for awhile.

Usually taking you to go see museums at night "It's better without the crowd!"

And on your anniversaries, he takes you back to your first date

He can get a bit insecure about whether he's doing it right, all he has to base off of are movies and TV shows

It'll take a bit for him to touch you, but once you put his hand on your back/thigh/waist

He'll take it as a go ahead (always looks at you for approval tho)

Whenever he hugs or kisses you, you can feel just how much he loves you

He looks at you and slowly closes the distance

Donnie will sometimes ask you questions about your previous relationships, how they ended, and why

He just wants to prevent the same mistakes from happening, he really loves you, and wants you two to last for eternity <3

I was able to finish it @novaleedartis !! Hope you enjoy it ^^

Please let me know how I can improve or if I have any spelling errors please! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[succubish666]

My Soul’s Tie to Lucifer

Two years ago, if you had told me that I would’ve had a recording of someone possessed by Satan himself assisting me in gaining knowledge about my soul, I would’ve said you were crazy. Nevertheless, here I am at arguably one of the most interesting parts of my spiritual journey yet.

This past weekend, the lovely @varusha-asmoday allowed me to question Satan about my soul’s past life and connection to Lord Lucifer. Varusha’s partner allows themself to be possessed by Satan during their rituals. Satan speaks through them and Varusha records it. Here are some highlights of what I transcribed of Satan speaking about me as well as my thoughts on it:

This was somehow his first impression: “It seems like she's a little pet to him” Whoa, okay, oh my… So, those visuals I got of Lucifer holding a leash connected to a collar around my neck that made me super flustered were real? Alright then 🥴

“Lucifer is rather endeared by her.” Aww. “He's very protective of her. Very very protective of her, shoving me out of the way. No, I'm just here to help on her behalf! Prove it? I don’t have any proof.” Shoutout to Varusha for providing proof here so Lucifer would give Satan more info. It’s absolutely heartwarming to me how protective Lucifer is of me. Also, hearing Satan’s dynamic with Lucifer was interesting.

“What's appearing to me is Lucifer holding this one like a child in the nature of the infernal realm in Hell before life, before she was alive. She had a tragic past in quite the distant past. I think around the time when Christianity was meeting the place of Ireland.” This was around 400 AD. I don’t think time in Hell works the same way it does here, but if it does, then I’d have spent around 1600 years there with Lucifer. It would certainly explain why I’m a demonkin.

“A woman in white, very young, weeping. And Lucifer letting her pass over and then keeping her around. And then afterwards being endeared so much that he chose her uniquely for the mission that he sent her on. Specifically because of the nature of their intimate relationship, which is mostly love and cherishment, that kind of thing.” Oh my gods. Lucifer helping me reach the afterlife and then liking me so much he took me in. 🥹

“There was a father figure and a young woman crying. The father was evil and Lucifer took the place of that fatherly role. Became the protective force that she needed. Whether that was in this life or the last, it's hard to tell. He just says it's an imprint present on his soul… As an imprint, it needed to happen again.” Wasn’t expecting to get called out for my Daddy issues. I certainly wouldn’t call my current human father “evil”, but I will say Lucifer has done for me emotionally in the year and a half since I knew he was around than my father has done in 22 years.

“Lucifer truly sees her as a daughterlike figure, very proud of her. Very protective of her. He really sees himself as that role for her. And he did incarnate her, making him the father of her.” Considering our romantic intimacy, I certainly wasn’t expecting this perspective. But I asked Lucifer about it and I think he said something like “demons don’t see the same things taboo as humans do.” Meaning, it’s normal for them to be intimate with their own children. I think him having a caretaker role with me is really sweet. I have a little bit of a tendency to age regress, so I’d love for him to take care of me. It’s awesome to have confirmation that Lucifer cares so deeply for me. Now I just wanna curl up on Lucifer’s lap while he pets my horns and strokes my hair…

Big thank you to everyone involved in getting me this info!

[acacia-shade]

I will preface this with the fact that some of us like to call ourselves median, while some do not care to do so. I figure this is still a helpful perspective nevertheless. Best of luck in figuring things out.

answers below the cut

(I've turned the questions green because something about this was getting hard to read for me sorry)

Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened? We discovered that we're a system in kind of an odd way that we don't really talk about but it wasn't a big moment, it was a long and slow progression. we've always talked to each other, and we've always switched, we just didn't see those things as anything notable or understand quite what was going on, it's just how 'I' was. Of course we didn't notice those things as much before either. Even when we discovered plurality, we didn't consider that it could apply to us for a long time, it seemed far too big and obvious. Over time we learnt more, started to see people who seemed a bit like us, than people who seemed a little more like us, and eventually we looked back and realised that at some point along the way we'd started understanding ourselves as plural too.

For those of you with no headspace or very limited internal interaction, what is that like for you? We don't really have a headspace but we interact just fine. I actually don't know how to describe us talking to each other. its like. our conversations are thoughts back and forth mostly or out loud words and thoughts but the most of the 'thoughts' have a specific feel or ...sound? to them that i don't know how to describe. How did you discover your system and how do you communicate (if at all)? Do you experience uncontrolled inner voices, like a lot of multiple systems do, or something else (internal/"ghost" emotions, visual projections, random thoughts popping up)? We often talk in words but we can also understand the greater meaning or intention behind them even if alone they might be kind of incoherent sometimes. we also can talk in just emotions and we have some parts who more commonly only communicate in vague feelings. as for visual projections we also get those, not like hallucinations of any kind, just visual thoughts and such. random thoughts we actually don't really get for all that those are pretty common to my knowledge. actually i am being reminded that that does happen on occasion but mostly we just get random parts just commenting on stuff or suggesting things without having called for them or anything, like just then when someone reminded me of a time or two we have gotten random thoughts.

Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"? No. Due to how we switch though I suppose we could view it that way. When we switch it feels like we've 'become the next fronter' and we're not wildly different so it wouldn't be hard to see things in the way mentioned in the question but it doesn't help us to view things that way so we don't.

Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. We often don't often recognise switches unless we're looking for them. There are a couple indicators that sometimes appear for us though, if we've been in a room or doing something for a while only to feel like we've just got there we've probably switched, if what we're doing suddenly feels boring or unpleasant when it didn't before we've probably switched, if the boring or unpleasant thing we're doing seems interesting now we've probably switched, if our sense of self seems different somehow than it was before we've probably switched. I think you get the gist, if our opinion on something or view of the world or ourself feels different to 'before' we've probably switched at some point since then. Are they subtle? Our switches tend to be pretty subtle, mind you sometimes our body language or voice does change somewhat notably (mostly we mask without really realising though). Can you switch intentionally or is it random? We can't switch intentionally for the most part, a few of us do have front triggers that we know of and sometimes we might use those, but mostly it's just whoever is out. We do have some luck with calling parts into cocon though.

How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique? Barring one of us who is notably different, already had a pretty strong sense of identity and also never fronts (he's in cocon a lot), we've mostly just worked ourselves out by living. I know that I like minecraft and the sims because I'm the one who most often reaches for them, we know that another part likes organising because it makes them happy when they do, theres a lot of stuff like that. For other stuff sometimes we can just ask if the part we want to ask is around or they can be drawn into cocon. A lot of the time though we don't know, we just have to work it out over time. Sometimes we just know there is a part that has a trait even if we know nothing else about them too, like I know that there is at least one of us who sometimes fronts who hates the music we have on our phone, even though I don't know almost anything else about them.

Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious? Yes, but we still do that. A lot of us tend to talk to ourselves, our brain, and our body without intending for anyone in our system to hear or respond, it's just how a lot of us think. We did however talk to each other a lot before we realised we were a system too. Sometimes we interpreted it as imaginary friends, sometimes as just talking to ourself, sometimes as something else.

Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality? i don't remember at all, probably because we normally don't care about aesthetics for most things (and we've known we're a system for a good while now so any memory of that has long since faded). i've seen this sort of thing mentioned by other systems several times though.

Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? we don't really bother with consciousness labels so i don't have any answer to that question. Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting? we're not really conscious when we're not near the front. we do have folks sit in cocon for a chat and such sometimes, and obviously they're aware of things when that's going on and the fronter can interact with them when that's happening but if not, they aren't aware of stuff. i will note here that we don't have a 'headspace' in terms of 'a place folks go when they're not fronting' only a 'headspace' in terms of a visualisation tool sort of thing that folks around the front might use if they want. (Basically just a place to imagine ourselves into if we so desire for some reason.)

feel free to ask us questions about this or anything else, i find answering this kind of stuff fun.

Hiiii, plural community! Questions for median systems, while I explore the possibility of being one myself, answer as many as you like:

What made you start questioning whether you were a system or not? And what brought you to discovering and adopting the "median" label?

Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened?

For neurodivergent medians, how did you differentiate your systemhood from the rest of your neurodivergencies? (Ex: the difference between autistic masking and subtle/fluid switches, identity issues from personality disorder vs genuine facets, etc)

For those of you with no headspace or very limited internal interaction, what is that like for you? How did you discover your system and how do you communicate (if at all)? Do you experience uncontrolled inner voices, like a lot of multiple systems do, or something else (internal/"ghost" emotions, visual projections, random thoughts popping up)?

Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"?

Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. Are they subtle? Can you switch intentionally or is it random?

How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique?

Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious?

For those of you who are stoners, how does weed affect you and potential switches? Does it make switching/recognizing a switch easier?

Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality?

Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting?

⚠️ NO SYSCOURSE ON THIS POST ⚠️

I do not want to engage in syscourse, do not attempt to start any with me. I simply want to hear about others experiences and hope to learn something about myself in the process. If you want drama, go elsewhere.

[dinoserious]

invertober day 29, bold jumping spider! real darlings

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Dawn

I am back because i got home from work and I got no chill! :D @spotaus

First one Prev drabble Next one

Okay. So why this one? Because i realised it was a while since i wrote a drabble from Horror's point of view and that is criminal and it is a great excuse for me to showcase some stuff from the quiet and very observing sockets of Horror! (also gives me an excuse to not think about the drabble order i got now and that thought i messed it up a bit which I need to think of a solution for)

Ready? Let's go!

*------------------------*

Horror makes sure to carefully close the door to the greenhouse. It is still early but he is used to those.

He enjoys the cool fresh air as he walks towards the house, small basket filled with fresh monster food. Horror is happy he got permission from Crop to harvest the plants in there for their meals.

He quietly opens the door and listens for a moment. He saw Cross leave the farm a little while ago to do his own morning workouts and by the sounds of it the other three are still asleep.

Which is good because he needs his own sleep. Horror knows very well that Dust is the one to wake up with Nightmare if something bothers him in his sleep.

He found the two of them awake and reading a book one too many times for Horror to believe they just had an allnighter.

Horror likes being up early. Maybe strange for him but he got used to it in his old universe. The best time to check his traps and search for food had been in the very early morning, or very late night depending on how you look at it, as most people would be asleep.

It is a leftover habit and he just kept going with it when he joined Nightmare's gang.

He puts the food away in all the right places and goes about getting the ingredients for todays breakfast. He notices the fresh milk and eggs and the choice is obvious. Some pancakes would be great.

He starts preparing the ingredients as he takes the time to measure it all. The milk makes him chuckle.

Watching Cross realises there was a cow had been funny. Finding Cross in a tree shaking with a cow under it had been hilarious. Crop ahd been apologetic as he explained that his cow, Betty (Killer had mutters "of course it is claled betty") was aparently mischievious.

Horror had his doubts but Cross swore that the cow would know when he left the farmhouse. That the cow would stand at the edge of her field and stare at him.

Cross did not go to the east side of the farm anymore. aparently that was Betty's territory in his mind.

Nightmare liked petting Betty however so you have your ups and downs.

Horror mixes the ingredients slowly but surely. Thinking about Nightmare, "Shouldn't you still be in bed?"

silence before a soft mutter "Not tired anymore."

Horror chuckles as he shoots Nightmare a look. He looks fully awake and adorable in his new wool sweater. Horror grins "God powers?"

Nightmare shrugs "I mean probably. I never needed sleep before. that is still new." They hadn't really noticed anything that could be connected to Nightmare's godhood at the moment. Maybe it had gone domant, at least that was Cross's guess. Dust just thinks Nightmare's magic is now focussed on healing instead of weird god shenenigans.

Speaking of healing! Horror gives him a stern look "bandages?"

Nightmare rolls his eye lights but mutters his answer "All still in place and good. Killer replaced them after the bath last night,"

Horror nods. With that secured he relaxes abit "Want to help?"

Nightmare is already by his side and stands on his tiptoes. Horror chuckles as he gives him a look "Need a chair?" he would offer a stepstool but the chair is more stable for him.

Nightmare looks at the counter annoyed before nodding his agreement. Horror grabs a chair and puts it near the counter. Nightmare climbs it easily.

Horror really wants to pick him up but they do have the rule that inside Nightmare should walk around himself to carefully train his spine. It is still much to early to already start carrying him. Horror knows that if any of them start they won't stop.

Nightmare reaches for the ingredients, some fruits for inside the pancakes, before pausing and staring at his sweater.

Nightmare has been very careful with his new gifted clothes. Horror himself is also very careful with the set of clothes Dust got him.

Horror frowns at the food he is making. He really hopes he can quickly find soemthing to do here to earn money. At the moment only Dust has something and it is starting to show, even Killer seems to be getting annoyed with himself over it.

Until now Horror and Cross helped around on Crop's farm. Which he was happy to do as it only seemed fair as a way to repay Crop for letting them stay. Horror has also been learning the basics about farming, farmland and farmwork from Crop. It is still a lot and not everything sticks in his skull, probably falling out of that hole. But he is getting better at it. He hopes with this Crop can maybe get the news out that both of them are more than willing to help around with heavy duty work and get a bit of cash flow.

Killer... Killer has a very specific set of skills. Sadly not specifically useful on a farm. Even if he is great with the animals and can herd pretty much anything, which is very useful but well. Most people won't let you near their animals unless they trust you and Killer is Killer.

Horror just feels bad that Dust is pretty much still Ngihtmare's main caretaker, got the rough end with the backstory they settled on, and has to deal with work to get cash. Only to spend all of it on them all.

Horror can see it is starting to wear him down. He just hopes they can figure out how to balance everything better.

It is another reason he loves these mornings. Because morning time means Dust, and Killer, both sleep in and Horror gets time to supervise their babybones. Horror adores the time wiht Nightmare. Especially when alone because then others don't watch them nervously the whole time.

It is exhausting to be seen as something dangerous even if he knows it is true. It is why they mean so much to him, they never treated him like that. None of them did.

A glance confirms that Nightmare has carefuly rolled up the sleeves and is taking extra care with cutting the fruits, using one of the duller knives which won't be able to cut bone. Horror turns back to getting everything else ready. He has to concentrate to push his intent into the food. He wants them to enjoy and like it. Feel the things he can't say to them.

Horror knows what he wants and feels but also knows none of them are ready to hear it. Horror has known that from the moment he realised what he felt was. The curse of being the only emotional stable one.

He still remembers all the way back near the start of them meeting and chuckles to himself. they did not get along at all.

Nightmare immediantly looks up "What is funny?" he looks adorably confused.

Horror thinks for a moment "Remember when you brought me in?"

Nightmare blinks before giving a slow nod "Yeah... I had hoped you would calm Killer and Dust."

Horror chuckles "Can't believe you thought i could do that."

Ngihtmare shrugs as he finishes up his task and just sits normally on the chair "I mean... It worked." his hands find the glass of juise Horror got him.

Horror pauses for a moment before nodding. Nightmare is kinda right with that one. It hadn't worked right away but he made it work. Mostly because he had had a lot of motivation.

Nightmare, still a fully active god at that point, had offered him that he would slowly but surely fix the food problem in his universe in trade for his service, something about it being too severe for him to be able to instantly fix but if Horror worked for him he would work on it. Horror had figured Nightmare had known about his little weird immortality situation with his own universe's core and accepted.

Turns out he just wanted him to fix whatever had been going on with Killer and Dust. Because they would fight. Constantly. And those two got very close to killing each other a few times.

Horror had eventually managed to somehow form a connection and bond with Killer. It had been rather easy and Horror was able to become friends with him over coworkers. Eventually find him not just annoying but funny. And later think fondly of his antics.

Dust took longer. Which had been a combination of Dust just being an introvert and not looking for connections or at least not in the way that made that clear to Horror. And well Horror heard bits and pieces of what Dust had done and had honestly been disgusted with the idea that Dust just murdered his whole universe and his own brother. Just to fight one human? Just to end a timeloop?

It was well after he managed to get them to stop, or at least contain the damage of, their fighting. Well after he started working for Nightmare more permanently that Horror realised how the multiverse worked.

And how fucking unfair it was.

Because aparently? stupid fate or some shit? That decided how your universe worked. His would always have ended up with a famine and starvation. Killer would always lose control and be controlled, abused and used by the human. Cross would always be the end of his universe. Dust... Dust would always have to kill his universe. No matter what he tried or solution he tried.

It wasn't until later Horror learned that Dust had tried everything. Multiple times. That Dust had learned to play multiple musical instruments in the time of resets. That he had learned to cook, and tinker. He master chemistry. Everything in the hopes it could give him a solution.

But the fates had already decided his ending, much like for all of them there was only one ending possible for them. And in the end locked him in a dead AU make by his own hands when no other options was left. Just like all of them had been.

Horror has to admit it took him a long time to get Dust to admit those things to him. Msotly because Horror had been standoffish before and that he accidentally gave Killer advice to treat Dust like one of the many stray cats he interact with.

He hadn't specifically said that. horror had just told Killer that maybe Dust would like Killer more, or at all, if Killer learned to respect his boundaries. Horror had mentioned how Killer could learn each cat's limits so why not Dust?

Worst part was that it actually worked.

Horror rubs his face "I give him cat advice." his voice sounds pained. Dust had been so mad at them both.

Nightmare nods "I remember. Dust left for three weeks." he snorts "which really is very catlike..." more thoughtful "And then you two got mad at me for not telling you where he went." He blinks and shrugs as he drinks from his orange juice.

Horror ignores the cat comment as he looks at Nightmare "Why didn't you tell us?" Dust had actually been recruited to help Nightmare with the balance. Something Horror only started to do after helping Killer and Dust be less homicidal.

Nightmare blinks at him wiht those wide sockets "I didn't want to force any of you... If you wanted to leave..." he speaks softer and softer "I wasn't going to stop you if you wanted to leave... if you didn't want to stay..."

Horror frowns and picks Nightmare up. He embraces him and hums "I am sorry we left..."

Nightmare shrugs as he pushes clsoer to him "You came back..."

hah... yeah they did. Much like Dust did all that time ago. He was gone for a few weeks before returning after killing Ink bringing back one of his fucking sketchbooks as proof. Obviously killing Ink does little in the long run but it was quite the powermove. Dust had glared at them daring to say anything. Killer of course had muttered something about Dust bringing back a kill much like a cat.

Horror is still not sure how he managed to stop Dust from Killing Killer that day.

Horror puts Nightmare at the table and gets a small yogurt and fruit snack ready for him. Just so he can eat a tiny bit. See how his magic will handle food today. Nightmare starts eating it when offered and that is a good sign. Means his magic is actually sending out the signal that it needs food today.

Horror goes back to flipping pancakes. Horror tries to stay in the here and now but his injury makes his mind likely to wander. and with already having been thinking about them.

He still remembers one of the early missions, after Horror learned about fates cruel games. Dust had still acted the same but Horror had tried to be more friendly. He had been close to giving up on it as clearly it wasn't working as Dust was still standoffish. Only for Dust to pull him out of the way of an attack from Ink, getting hit instead.

Later Horror had demanded why he did that and Dust had just shrugged. He hadn't had an answer for him. It confused Horror to no end. Horror was immortal because of that fact that his magic had been used in the core and bonded to that. Meaning as long as the core in his universe was fine he would return to life.

The gang had known this and Horror knew that Dust knew this. And yet. Dust had heard all of that and looked at the large monster Horror had become saw soemthing worth protecting. Something that needed protection.

Horror thinks he fell a little bit in love that day.

Much like how one day Horror just realised he couldn't stand the idea of not being near Killer or never seeing him again. That even if Killer could be annoying that he didn't wish him any pain or harm.

How it warmed his soul that Killer, and Cross later, would hide behidn him. Seeing him as someone safe that would protect them. See him as someone trustworthy.

Cross, so eager to please and desperate for affection and affirmation. but once he relaxed so smart and funny. Loyal and always ready to help...

But now is not the time to try and see what any of them thought or felt. They are dealing wiht a lot at the moment and they need to concentrate with trying to make staying here work.

The front door opens and Cross walks in quietly. He sneaks a glance at them and smiles when Horror catching him looking. Cross waves to Nightmare "Hey guys. All good?"

Horror nods "Nightmare helped." he flips another pancake as Nightmare drinks his juice with a smug little smile.

Cross grins "Good to hear. I will quickly get cleaned up and help. Dust and Killer?"

Nightmare hums "Still asleep." and he sips his juice again.

Cross nods "Good to know. be back in a bit" and he goes towards the bathroom. The pipes groan softly as Cross no doubt turns on the shower.

Horror finishes the last pancake and gets to wrok on getting the drinks and coffee ready.

Another day for them to figure out how this will work. Horror is just happy they are all here, everything else can wait as long as they stick together.

*-------------------------*

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[ereborne]

Top 7 Comfort Films

Tagged by @piratefalls Hi Kelly!!!!! I also watch the same movies on rotation lol

The Three Musketeers (1993)

The Swan Princess

The Blues Brothers

Hansel and Gretel, Witch Hunters

The Martian

Charlie's Angels (2019)

Logan Lucky

Tagging: @goingsparebutwithprecision, @acountrygirlsfun, @tulmultuous, @zahnie, @ialpiriel, @alwaysboth

[zecoritheweirdone]

been thinking 'bout mystery skulls animated recently!!! so, i decided to try my hand at drawing a mr. lewis pepper for the first time!

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Sif Odile duo looping au again and I wanna be able to plot everything out more coherently but act 5 eternally looms overhead and boy I do not wanna look up

[poptartmochi]

very lalalala day... I must savor it before I go to the trenches tomorrow

[waywardsalt]

fuck it, unedited snippet from an early early post-ph scene i decided to write one night

[thethingything]

the sun's started rising around the same time it does in late spring so now I've got that weird nostalgia for when I first showed up in the system and I'm also stuck thinking about when Lucy was like "September is the March of the year" because while that's kind of a ridiculous quote, I do get what they meant with it

[absolutely-esme]

Amity Park is different

Amity Park has a local superhero.

He's great. He works hard to protect his town. That said, Amity's local hero is a teenager. The people he relies on to help and support him are teenagers. The town's superhero defense is a handful of kids figuring things out on their own.

They do good, but sometimes the people of Amity have to be prepared to lend a hand or hold their own for a bit. That's just how life is under these conditions. Communities come together and support each other. It's fine. People adapt. Life goes on. They're really doing quite well.

A class from Amity Park visits a museum in Gotham on a field trip. They get caught in an unfortunately timed Scarecrow attack.

Scarecrow should have known better than to activate the fight or flight responses of a group of Amity Parkers.

The gas canister drops and discharges. The field trip group explodes into action.

A pair of Football players quickly overturns a table and use it as a shield as they charge the goons with the most firepower. Cheerleaders toss each other into the air for aerial attacks. Nerds turn objects from a nearby Janitor closet into a surprisingly effective trebuchet with astounding speed. One girl utilizes impressive martial arts skills.

A boy with Black hair and blue eyes flits about the battlefield pilfering and disassembling weapons with a shocking degree of efficiency as a Goth girl follows him around and bludgeon anyone who attempts to make a grab for him with a stand that had been holding up a rope barrier, and a boy in a beret lays down cover fire by launching pencils out of a makeshift bow formed from a binder and rubber bands with a startling degree of accuracy.

The teacher flits around pulling kids out of the path of attacks they hadn't seen, stowing any injured behind cover, and giving foes solid thwack on the noggin when the opportunity arises. He actually ends up knocking out Scarecrow himself.

The statement "We're not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with us," is repeated several times by different people.

When the Bats or police arrive, they have to carefully pull the feildtrip group off of the unfortunate rogues.

It takes a while to get the antidotes administered, but they do eventually manage. The class remains in defensive formation the whole time.

When the kids finally calm down enough to give statements, they mostly just say that Scarecrow gets what he gets for deliberately activating Amity Parkers' fight or flight responses. After the antidotes take effect, the class seems unfazed and goes about their business as soon as the authorities allow.

Some other visitors to the museum upload videos of the event online with titles like "the one class that was prepared for a field trip to Gotham" and "What kind of place is Amity Park, and why haven't I heard of it before?"

It doesn't take long for people to edit the videos to set the fight to music. Popular song choices include Ballroom Blitz, Bring 'em Out by Hawk Nelson, and the "we like to party" song from the six flags commercial.

Now the Bats are investigating Amity Park (and why they haven't heard of it before).

[rinneverse]

pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,

i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3

cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not

𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.

𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.

𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.

𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).

𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.

𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?

𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[lovebugism]

how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy

a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 

Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 

Speaking of sweet…

His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.

Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.

He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.

“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.

Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”

“Did you sleep good?” 

“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”

“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”

Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”

Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”

“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”

He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”

“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”

“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.

“Get out of the kitchen!”

“What’d I do?”

“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”

“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”

You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.

The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”

Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”

Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”

“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”

“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.

“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”

Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.

“You’re welcome…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.

“It’s different!”

The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.

“That’s not true!”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”

“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.

“Eddie,” you scold quietly.

The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.

“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”

Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 

“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”

“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”

You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.

The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.

“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.

You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”

“Eddie.”