#i wonder how many more of these i can stand to post when the current rewrite is so different

[rvnzr]

A10 - The Bike

Xyran Mal loved her bike. Xyran Mal also traveled on it often, running errands for her master, expanding to new cities for instruction or competition, and visiting spiritual, historical, or personal landmarks scattered through Lyrrhes. She had inherited it from a distant relative, and knew enough about it for basic repairs and upkeep, but this was a work of art crafted by the old masters, and she was a swordsman’s apprentice. So, when the central conductor burned out, she took it into a shop in the city she was in at the time, trusting the trained professionals to do their job well. She obviously misplaced that trust, because the motor had been rattling since she got back. She hadn’t really thought Jen would be able to do anything- his repairs were mediocre at best- but she also didn’t think she could make the journey to a better shop without causing more damage.

Much to her surprise, however, Jen had a new hire, a gorgeous, intense young woman who said she’d be able to fix it. She stood with an air of authority, a regal command. Her silver white hair was shaved on the sides, and woven into a thick braid down her back. Her work clothes were sturdy, but not dirty, and they hung better on her frame than they had any right to.

“The machinist who repaired your conductor was clearly very careless. They must have used magic to install or replace the piece. Your core is obviously magic sensitive, and the fringe magic from the installation caused a delicate misalignment within the inner mechanisms of the core.”

“But you can fix it?” Realizing she was still astride the bike, she hastily dismounted, smoothing the lines in her clothes best she could. Master would be appalled at her manners. Library duty for a week. 

“It is unlikely I can fix the core itself.”

“Then how can you fix it?” Their conversation was briefly interrupted by some clanging and crashing from inside the shop.

free first of the month first draft post up!

[partycatty]

how many donuts can you stack on it

i feel like ive got this down to a science.

warnings: describing fictional characters' peanits in length.

notes: this is what i come back with to post (1 donut = 1 inch)

[ masterlist ]

liu kang > he's got a bioweapon in motion and form, truly. it's so big and thick you might actually die if you try to take it all. 9 donuts. he'll let you do anything to it, silly or not, if it makes you crack a hungry grin like you did when you counted.

bi-han > idk i feel like its not that big, but it's got good thickness.... 4 and a half donuts. finds it stupid, won't agree to putting donuts on it at first, but gives in just so you'll stop. he's embarrassed.

kuai liang > husband length. humble but knows he can get the job done... thinks he could be bigger but you dont complain. 6 donuts. he's too kind and sweet to really have a problem with it.

johnny cage > he thought he'd be able to fit more donuts... not that the current amount is small. 7 and a half donuts. he might try and cram that second half in, but it falls off and splats on the ground.

kenshi takahashi > confident but quiet about it, the donuts don't stop stacking even when you think you couldn't fit another. 9 donuts. expected it, not surprised, but chuckles dryly at your little gasp.

kung lao > tried it on himself before you even got the chance to ask. 7 donuts after trying multiple times at home. lies and says it was nine donuts when he tried it at home...

raiden > nobody expects it from him, since it's not on the forefront of his mind like his bestie... 9 donuts. just thought everyone could fit that many no problem. you had to explain that he's massive.

rain > doesn't talk about it because there isn't really much to say... 5 donuts. (why doesn't he have a personality ever)

tomas vrbada > you just... kept going.... and before you knew it, 8 and a half donuts sat pretty hugging him as he smiles in delight. at first he didn't get your vision, but seeing the shock on your face was more than enough.

baraka > afraid of showing it, tarkat enhanced... all of his features. nearly a baker's dozen, 10 donuts fit with no problem. he growls to himself, adjusting his hips. maybe his condition had a perk.

geras > won't really get why you want donuts on it... but will entertain your ridiculousness. he stands stock still and firm when you put a whopping ten and a half donuts on him. he raises a brow, wondering what the point was.

syzoth > his tongue flicks in curiosity as you try to balance the donuts on both, squeezing a whopping 14 donuts combined! he grins in satisfaction, wondering how many donuts his true form could hold.

havik > it fell off. 0 donut.

shao > shitting your pants when you put the entire dozen onto it, and still have some wiggle room. shao remains unimpressed but silently pleased with his thickness and length as it balances the treats.

shang tsung > it's cute. 5 donuts was his max, but he seems smug about it. he knows you'll take him either way, and the thought makes him smirk.

reiko > 7 and a half donuts stops him short but he just laughs loudly with his hands on his hips. asks if you're impressed, and then offers for you to eat the donuts right off of him.

ermac > ....would ermac have millions of dicks? or just one in his physical manifestation? how many donuts is that...? you'll be there for a while.

[plutotheplum]

Socks and Kisses

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: a spontaneous shopping trip has leon re-evaluating his friendship with you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, spanking, oral sex, praise kink, fluff, friends/roommates to lovers, fantasizing

wc: 3.7k

also posted on ao3!

There’s a shriek leaving you when you trip over a bundle of shoes in the doorway. It nearly sends you hurtling towards the floor, but there’s an arm curling around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall. Leon.

You glare up at your roommate, shoving at his chest so it sends him stumbling.

“Seriously, Leon? How many times have I told you to put your shoes to the side of the doorway?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

He winces at your shrill voice, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was busy,” he says, his eyes pleading with you, “you know with�� with work.”

You’re shooting him an unimpressed look, pushing past him to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. It was your day to collect them anyways. Living with Leon had happened entirely by accident. One shittily written apartment listing later and the poor guy was standing outside your door, begging you to let him move in. It hadn’t been so bad. Leon had been nice, and you two had gotten along well, becoming friends even. The only thing you couldn’t stand was how messy the man was.

Empty boxes from delivered packages, stray parchment sheets from when he’d bake himself something and socks strewn haphazardly across the floor, much like his shoes. Leon had practically turned your apartment into a deathtrap. 

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer, not when he’s reaching for the pack of popsicles you’d bought. Leon lets out a low whine, like a kicked puppy, when you swat his hand away and shoot him an irritated glance. “I’m putting my foot down,” you tell him firmly, “no more unorganized socks, shoes or- or anything for that matter!”

Leon only tilts his head, blinking over at you. You glance towards the clock before your eyes are flitting back to meet his.

“Ikea,” you explain, “we’re going to Ikea to get you some organizers or whatever.” 

“ Now? ” Leon asks, raising his brows “but I was going to go to the gym with Chris and-” he’s shutting up when he sees your hardened glare.

Leon lets out an exasperated huff, and you’re smiling over at him, happy you’ve won this argument. Just to reward him, you’re digging out a popsicle from the pack and handing it to him. “So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath, freeing the popsicle from its wrapper. 

“I heard that,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

You both finish up your popsicles, and you’re tossing him his car keys while you pull your shoes on again. 

“Why do I have to drive?” he complains, leaning against the doorway.

“Because it’s your mess,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “and you’re paying as well.”

Leon lets out a scoff, “oh, fuck you.”

You smile back at him, patting him on the shoulder for some comfort. You manage to annoy him a little more during the drive to Ikea, and Leon’s contemplating whether he should just stuff your mouth with the rolled up catalog you’re currently holding

It’s when you both get to the kitchen area that Leon realizes something’s wrong. His eyes are watching the way you bend over the model kitchen counter, gaze trained on the way your skirt rides up slightly, exposing the backs of your thighs. He swallows harshly, wondering what it might be like to come up behind you, grab your hips and grind his cock against your ass. 

Your voice breaks him out of his dazed thoughts, your hand waving him over as you point to the price tag.

“Don’t you think this is a catch?” You ask him, head tilting back to meet his eyes.

“A catch?” He echoes, raising his brows, “it’s $2000 . Do you even have $2000?” 

You roll your eyes, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t be such a jerk, Leon. I think it’d look good in our apartment.”

There it is. Our apartment. The words are so comfortably domestic that it has Leon’s knuckles squeezing tight around the basket he’s holding. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t imagined you two dating. Especially after that time he’d come home drunk one night. You’d taken care of him so sweetly, despite all of your grumbles and chastisements, that Leon felt like he was falling in love.

That had only happened once though, and Leon wasn’t prepared to make a big deal about his feelings so he buried them deep down and carried on with his life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on his little crush any longer, brows furrowing when he feels the basket in his hand grow heavier. You’ve been milling about, dumping various little trays and organizational tidbits into the basket.

“At this point, I think you’re trying to max out my card,” he drawls, trailing after you.

“I’m helping you, Leon” you shoot back, bringing a candle up to your nose to smell its scent.

It’s not until you both get to the bedding area that Leon realizes he might actually be losing it. 

He’s sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, the basket settled on the floor with how heavy it’s become. 

You’re fluttering about, checking out the duvet covers and pillow cases. His eyes watch over you, letting you take a seat beside him on the bed when you find a duvet cover you like.

“Pretty, right?” You ask him, showing him the design.

“I guess,” he murmurs absentmindedly. 

He thinks you look prettier though. Besides, it’s not like he can tell you that he’s imagining taking you on this very bed. Your face pressed into the pillows, his cock stuffed into your pussy. You’d probably make cute noises too, clench around his cock while he thrusted into you. He’d let everyone watch, he thinks, make sure everyone knew that you were his. 

You’re snapping your fingers in his face, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring into his eyes “you keep getting distracted.”

“What?” Leon flushes, clearing his throat “yeah- yeah I’m fine… just had enough of you is all.”

You swat his shoulder and he rolls his eyes. Both of you manage to get to the checkout without any further bickering. Leon’s card doesn’t max out thankfully, but you wince when you see the total, ignoring Leon’s glower as he tears the receipt from the machine.

To make up for the spontaneous shopping spree, you buy him a soft serve and hand it to him with a smile. 

Leon takes it with a grumble, his eyes dropping to the way you lick at your soft serve. The icy treat smudges across your lips, and he’s reaching out before he can stop himself, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to clean the mess. 

“Think you might be the messy one,” he mutters gruffly, drawing his hand back. 

“Your socks alone have nearly crippled me” you reply, nibbling at the cone to try and quell the race of your heart at his unexpected action. 

Leon lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head. The drive home is quiet, the soft sounds of the radio filling up the car’s space.

You help Leon with the stuff you bought, leaving the goods in his room before letting out a satisfied nod.

“There. Now you don’t have an excuse for being messy. Better start cleaning up, Leon” you chirp, giving him a snarky smile before tugging his door shut.

You sigh happily, mind feeling at ease. You’re sure that your apartment won’t be so messy anymore. The sounds of Leon rummaging inside his room almost make you feel bad, but this had been going on for months and you were glad you had done something about it. 

Deciding to grab some food, you reach for the can of peaches on the kitchen counter. By some misfortune, your hand accidentally knocks the can, sending it rolling towards the edge. Letting out an irritated huff, you’re reaching across the counter to grab the can before it falls off. 

While this happens, you’re blissfully unaware of the fact that your skirt is riding up. Leon feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest at the sight when he had wandered out of his room to grab a garbage bag. 

He can see the swell of your ass, your cheeks peeking out from your panties as you’re bent over, grabbing the can of peaches. 

“Have you made it some sort of mission to bend over every kitchen counter you see?” he asks dryly, his arms crossing over his chest.

You squeak in surprise, body jolting. The can of peaches slips from your hand pitifully, landing on the floor with a loud thunk .

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” You whine, turning to give him a glare.

Leon doesn’t reply, coming to a stop in front of you. His blue eyes are dark, dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead.

“Um… Leon?” You wave your hand in front of his face. 

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he murmurs, his hand catching yours.

“Hm?” he squeezes your hand, his head lowering so he can stare right into his eyes, “bending over every kitchen counter so I can see your pretty ass?” 

You manage to gather your wits, letting out a loud scoff and push at his chest.

“You’re such a perv, Leon!” you accuse, narrowing your eyes and placing your hands on your hips. 

“I’m not a perv if you keep bending over like that!” he shoots back, his hands grabbing at your forearms to tug you towards him. 

You swallow harshly when his calloused hands drift past your wrists, finding your hands and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his body seeps into yours and your head is tilting, eyes finding his.

“We- we are not fucking,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Leon asks, his head lowering again. 

His body presses against yours, causing your breath to hitch. You’re biting your lip at the way it feels, the hard planes of his body molding against yours.

“One kiss,” he whispers, peering into your eyes, “please? Just one kiss and it’ll be over.”

You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you denied his request. Leon was stupidly handsome even if he was a little annoying at times, and you had maybe masturbated to the thought of your roommate before.

“Did you happen to forget that we’re roommates?” you raise your brows, trying to voice your concerns.

“Roommates kiss all the time,” he says, his nose nudging against yours gently, “now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

You don't know what sort of roommates he’s been hanging around, but you’re almost certain that roommates don’t kiss or do whatever the hell you two are doing right now. 

Leon doesn’t know what he’s doing either. That one shopping trip had seriously messed up his brain, but he was here now so there was no going back. Your lips look so pretty, your eyes all starry. He wants to kiss you senseless and bend you over that stupid kitchen counter while he fucks into you until you’re crying on his cock.

As if to encourage you a little more, he nudges his nose against yours again. You send him a glare, eyes slipping shut as you rock up on the tips of your toes and brush your lips against his. The kiss is fleeting, a mere touch of your lips against his, and it’s safe to say Leon is not impressed.

“There,” you say, trying to hide the smirk that spreads across your face, “you got a kiss. Now leave me alone.”

Leon lets out a low groan, his head falling against your shoulder, “you’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You hum, pushing at his chest, taking the opportunity to free yourself from the confines of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his hand snagging onto your shirt, “c’mere baby.”

His low voice has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, your eyes widening when his hands cup your cheeks and he presses his lips against yours.

It doesn’t take you long to respond, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. He groans into your mouth, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer. 

You’re both flush against each other and you let out an irritated noise when he shoves you up against the kitchen counter, feeling the solid surface dig into your back.

“Drove me crazy at that Ikea,” he whispers against your lips, his hands sneaking under your skirt to give your ass an appreciative grope, “thought about fucking you on one of those beds.”

The idea of it is so obscene and indecent that you find yourself moaning out loud.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Me fucking you in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine?” 

You’re nodding desperately at his filthy questions, trying to tug his shirt off so you can see his chest and abdomen. He obliges you, quickly shrugging off his shirt. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, eyes half-lidded. 

You can’t help the way your body leans forward, lips pressing soft kisses across his chest and his pecs. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head.

“Just kisses, huh?” he murmurs.

You nod, peering up at him “no fucking, remember?”

He hums, tilting your head so he can kiss you again. Leon kisses you over and over until you can’t breathe. You’re feeling so dazed that you don’t even notice he’s spinning you around, bending you over the kitchen counter. There’s a soft whine escaping you when he flips your skirt up, his hands squeezing at your ass before his fingers slip under your panties, tugging the fabric back and letting it snap back against you.

Your fingers are scrabbling at the counter top when you feel him drop to his knees, his lips pressing against the skin of your ass. He kisses your body so reverently, you think you might actually pass out.

“Wanna kiss your pussy too,” he mumbles, tugging your panties down. You shudder when you feel his breath hit your sensitive skin, hips swaying back to meet the kisses he places on your clit.

His tongue lolls out before long, lapping at your cunt, collecting the slick that drips from you. 

“That- that is not kissing,” you whimper out, head falling against the coolness of the counter.

“Sure it is,” he whispers, burying his face deeper into your pussy, “just dirty kisses, sweetheart.”

The way he eats you out is messy. Leon’s trying to shove his face deeper between your thighs, his lips suctioning around your pussy. You mewl when he draws back and spits on your cunt, his mouth latching on soon after. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold on, knees beginning to shake. Leon delivers a particularly toe-curling suck to your clit and you’re shuddering, letting out whines and whimpers when he lets out a low laugh, his tongue swiping over your cunt repeatedly.

“Leon- fuck! Leon, ‘m gonna-” you can barely speak properly. 

“Then come , baby,” he whispers, his tongue pressing into your fluttering hole.

You squeal at the unfamiliar sensation, knuckles turning white as you come on his tongue. He licks up your slick eagerly, his wet lips pressing soft kisses against the swell of your ass as you pant.

He stands up, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You press your back against his chest, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, his hands smoothing along your back to undo the clasp of your bra. 

Your arms lift and Leon helps you take off your shirt and bra, letting out a soft sigh as your head falls back against his shoulder. Leon’s hands are restless, reaching for your breasts. 

He hums at the sight of your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before letting go to squeeze your tits. 

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You mewl, cheeks flushing. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you so sweetly. Leon feels your body lurch forward, tits pressing against his palms. He laughs, giving another firm grope to your tits and finds your lips to give you another filthy kiss. While he kisses you, Leon grinds his hips against your ass, and you gasp into his mouth, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Think my cock wants to give your cute pussy some kisses too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your ear, “you up for it, baby?”

You could be a bobblehead with how fast your head is moving up and down. Leon grins against your ear, placing another kiss to your cheek before he’s bending you over the counter. The coolness of the counter startles you slightly, but Leon’s hand rubs up and down your back, warming your skin. 

Tits squished against the hard surface, your feet on the tips of your toes, pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal, Leon can hardly believe his fantasy has come to fruition. He wants to take a picture, keep it safe and jerk off to the sight of you when he’s alone. There’s no pictures taken though, instead Leon’s hand delivers a heavy slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You moan, back arching slightly as you try and chase the feeling. It hurts and you can feel the sting of his palm prickling across your skin, but you want him to spank you again so badly.

“L- Leon, want more,” you mumble, looking back at him.

Leon takes your request in stride, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. Your body slumps against the counter, soft noises escaping you as he rains slap after slap onto your reddening skin. 

“Shit, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands smoothing over the damage he’s done to your ass “so fuckin’ pretty.”

There’s a babbled noise escaping you. Mind feeling like mush, all you can think about is Leon. He smooths his hands over your sensitive skin a few more times, trying to soothe the pain before you feel him squeeze gently as he presses the head of his cock against your aching hole.

Leon pushes into your pussy with a groan, his hands squeezing at your hips. It almost feels like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck-” he hisses, drawing his hips back to thrust back into you again, “ fuck - you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Leon’s thrusts are beginning to pick up in speed and you’re whining, the force of his thrusts making your body rub against the kitchen counter.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you chant his name and his body is draping over yours, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and back, “feels so good,” you slur. 

His hips are rutting against your ass, cock stuffing you full. You’re moaning so loudly that Leon has to slip his hand over your mouth in an effort to quieten your noises. His balls are slapping against your clit and the combined stimulation is making your head spin.

Soon, his hand is leaving your mouth to grip your hips again. 

“Take my fucking cock,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. 

“It’s too much!” you wail, nails clawing at the counter to try and crawl away.

He growls, grip tightening as he keeps you in place, “don’t you dare run. Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“You’re insane,” you cry, but there’s a cockdrunk smile spreading across your face as he fucks into you. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear, “and it’s all for you, because- because I like you.” 

There’s a loud whine ripping out of you at that, wet heat clenching around him. No one’s confessed to you before, like ever . You suck in a sharp breath, trying to calm your heart and stop the excited flipping of your stomach that comes with his confession.

Leon moans when he feels the clench of your walls around his cock and he’s fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

“I like you,” he whispers again “like you so much, sweetheart. Always taking care of me, looking out for me, makes me feel special.” 

“Only do that ‘cause you’re an idiot, Leon” you mumble, swallowing back another moan that threatens to spill out. 

“But you do it anyway,” he murmurs, driving his cock into you.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as his fat tip grazes the spot deep inside of you. He grunts when he feels you getting tighter, feels you clenching hard around his cock.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, sucking little love bites onto your neck, “hm? Can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Wanna- wanna come at the same time,” you babble “right, Leon? Since- since you like me, we gotta come at the same time.”

He’s letting out a hoarse laugh, kissing your shoulder again, “yeah baby, I’m right there with you.”

All of a sudden, he’s burying himself to the hilt inside of you and your mouth drops open, a sharp noise leaving you as you both come. Your body is limp against the counter, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you pant. Leon kisses your neck, letting out a whine as his cum spurts into you. It’s warm and thick, filling you up so perfectly that it has a serene smile settling on your face.

He helps you onto your feet, his hands rubbing up and down your sides to soothe your shaky legs. You feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your head and you’re rocking up on the tips of your toes, returning a kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too, Leon” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. 

You can feel him smile against your lips and he’s kissing you back sweetly. Leon keeps you there for a while as you both kiss, his hands petting across your tired body.

He takes you to his room later, his hand encasing yours. The moment is almost perfect, if not for the sock on the floor that sends you careening into his desk. “Leon!” you grit out.

He only laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you up and tosses you onto his bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

[finelinefae]

Bestie I literally just read flower and I’m OBSESSED and I can imagine y/n trying to turn tattooh into a swiftie whilst he tries to explain the rap beef to y/n 😭

no bc this was such a good and unique idea i had to write a little something for it !!

wordcount: 1.3k

. . .

“Okay, so what was it again?” Y/N asked, a dip between her brows as she fastened the bow on a bouquet of flowers she was completing for a baby shower they had been invited to next weekend. 

“So Kendrick-”

“The guy who featured on Bad Blood?” Y/N double-checked. 

Harry chuckles, “I mean he’s also a Pulitzer Prize winner but that too.” She nods, waiting for him to continue, “So he featured on a song with a bunch of other artists basically taking aim at J Cole and Drake-”

“Oh I know him, he posted a picture of him and Taylor on his Instagram that one time two years ago,” Y/N says. 

Harry nods, desperate to finish explaining to her the current online events he had been obsessively keeping track of over the past twenty-four hours, “Right, right. So anyway,” Harry continued to explain the ongoing tension in the world of rap circling the internet with Y/N nodding a long, nothing but confusion on her face. 

Amongst many things, Y/N and Harry’s music tastes were polar opposites. Whilst Y/N loved pop - Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo - Harry tended to lean more towards alternate music, genres like rap and grunge or anything before the 2000’s. He loved rock bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. On their first New Year’s Eve together, they’d spent the entire night at a karaoke bar in the city, four Shania Twain sons deep by the time the clock hit midnight. 

Although they were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to their music tastes, they loved talking to each other about what they were listening to. They would share their weekly Spotify stats over dinner at the end of each week and make playlists for each other to listen to whenever they were taking the train somewhere. 

As Harry finished explaining, Y/N picked up the bouquet and carried it over to where he was sitting, placing it on the table in front of him. 

Even as he was speaking, Harry automatically reached out to slide an arm around her waist beneath her fuzzy, pink cardigan rubbing circles with his thumb over the exposed bit of skin on her hip. 

“That sounds… really complicated, H.” Y/N sighed, “I’d hate to get into an argument like that.”

Harry smiled at how adorable she looked with pouty lips and concern on her face, “Lucky for you flower, y’ much too difficult to get into any kind of argument with.” 

Harry and Y/N rarely had major arguments. Typically, their disagreements were over minor or unimportant matters, often ending with Harry showering her with kisses as an apology or Y/N clinging to him until he forgave her.

“And he wants Drake to die?” Y/N gasps, “That’s awful.”

Harry nods, watching her hands carefully move around the flowers in the bouquet to get them in the perfect place. “Hmm, ‘s not the nicest thing to say to a person,”

Y/N sighed, sitting on his thigh when her legs got too tired from standing. His lips puckered against the base of her exposed neck from where she had tied her curls up with a scrunchie. He inhaled the floral perfume he had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She was obsessed with it, dousing herself in it every morning and before she went to bed.

“Have you listened to Taylor’s new album by the way?” Y/N wondered, turning to hook her leg over his other thigh so she was straddling him. She was pressed between him and the worktop, her arms moving around his neck and fingers fiddling with the curly baby hairs by his neck. 

Harry winced, “Ummm…”

“Harry,” Y/N huffed, “You said you would listen to it so I could talk you through it track by track.” 

“I know! I’m getting to it, y’know I’ve jus’ been busy this week.” Harry stated, which was true. It had been the school holidays and a lot more customers had visited both their shops than usual. 

“The album came out weeks ago,” Y/N said, pushing herself off of him to start putting everything away for tomorrow. 

Before she could take one step, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, “I will, baby - promise, I’ll get to it and then y’ can talk for as long as y’ want all about it. Y’ can even put your pj’s on and show me y’ little dance y’ used to do when I heard y’ havin’ y’ little solo parties before we met,” He smirked against her neck. 

Y/N blushed, clearing her throat and moving away. Her eyes narrowed, “You better.” She walked back to the front desk, “And they weren’t solo parties! Marsh was there too,” She said, referring to her little cat. 

. . .

During her lunch break, Y/N reached for her bag to eat the pasta salad Harry had prepared for her that morning before they left for work. When she unzipped the bag, she found his Star Wars lunchbox inside instead of her own.

She slid off her seat and walked straight to his tattoo shop next door, knowing he had probably mixed up their lunches and ended up with her Cinnamoroll one.

She pushed the door open, expecting to hear the strums of an electric guitar or the low grovel of an indie rock band playing over the Bluetooth speakers. But instead, she was shocked to hear the voice of her favourite singer. 

Her heart soared even before she saw him as she walked past the front desk. "Hey Mike, what's with the music?" She asked as if she didn’t know already.

“Harry insisted he put it on this morning. You have to go in there and tell him it’s killing the vibe.” Mike grumbled, taking a puff of the vape in his hand. 

Y/N smiled, “I quite like it.”

“Of course you do,” He rolled his eyes. 

Y/N walked through to the back rooms where she heard the steady sounds of a tattoo gun. Her eyes found Harry, deeply focused on the design he was tattooing on someone’s wrist. 

Y/N stood to one side and waited patiently, “Okay that’s all done,” Harry clicked his tongue, pushing his chair away and wrapping up the tattoo for the customer. 

After the customer had left, she stepped into the room, “Hi Harry,” She beamed, floating over to him. He looked so cute and cuddly today, wearing a grey sweatshirt and black trousers with his usual Doc Martens and a navy-coloured beanie to cover his curls. 

A smile carved onto Harry’s face, “Hi flower,” He removed his gloves and met her halfway, pulling her into a hug and kissing her softly. 

“Missed you,” She murmured against his lips. 

“Miss you always, flower.” He brushed a loose curl behind her ear, “Thought I wasn’t meeting y’ ‘til later?”

“Oh,” She pulled out the lunchbox and handed it to him, “I think we got our lunches mixed up,” 

Harry furrowed his brows, grabbing the plastic bag with his lunch inside only to find her pink lunchbox instead. He chuckles, “Ah, must have been the early morning getting to me.”

“S okay,” Y/N grins, “I like your music choice by the way.”

Harry smirked, “Promised a girl something,”

“Oh really?” Y/N’s grin deepened, “Well I’m sure she’ll be very happy you kept your promise.”

“I’ve been thinking about her all morning, getting to hear her talk non-stop later about her favourite songs.” He says, her arms sliding up his torso to meet at the back of his back. 

She stood on her toes, his head dropping and their noses brushing together, “All morning?” 

“All the time,” He breathes, “Can’t seem to stop thinking about her since I met her.”

“Hmm, well she’s a very lucky girl.” Y/N murmurs.

His lips met hers, the low light above shining down on them as the Tortured Poets Department came to an end and ‘Lover’ played on shuffle over the speakers of his tattoo parlour. 

[maikissed]

Kylian Mbappé oneshot

this was supposed to be a part 2 for when was the time for Kylian Mbappe to explode but I lost the idea somewhere, so I'd say it's more of a standalone with a few hints here and there…yup warnings: smut

She was bored during the Olympics. The event was grand, beautiful and festive. So many people striding the streets, Paris was colourful and very much packed. She loved the stir, the energy, the hubbub. She was busy, there was so much work. But she was not exactly present here, checking socials in the meantime, her thoughts far and messy. His latest post popped out first thing as she opened Instagram and she sighed wondering why she started to feel something close to longing as she focused on her grumpy humour as of late. Her own desires unknown.

She wondered if there’ll be a chance to see him again, she enjoyed his presence, the sight of him, his eyes, however dangerous his gaze was endearing, she missed the way his enigmatic presence made her feel. She wondered if she might have grown some form of attachment, an infatuation even. He was electrifying, that she knew for sure. She enjoyed putting herself in front of the fire, maybe there was some masochism hiding behind it, but she was curious how fast would she burn.

And she in fact spotted him, a week later, during a fundraising gala, when she was convinced he was still enjoying his vacation - she came across some new photos posted by another media account. She was looking for her boss but she stopped in her tracks to observe him, as he was engaged in a friendly conversation with some men. Fingers nervously tapping on her little clutch bag, she was considering if she should wait for a proper moment to approach him. Many people started to gather around him, making her doubt if it was a good idea. Just as she was about to turn around to focus back on her job here, his eyes landed on her suddenly, he was saying something and there appeared a gentle smile on his lips as he recognized her. Because he did. She realised she was staring at him, he nodded gently her way, she send him a delicate smile and waved. He looked sharp, handsome, clad in very elegant black tuxedo, every element dark, even the shirt under the jacket, neatly fastened all the way up. Out of nowhere some more people blocked her sight then, so she composed herself and started to walk. In the opposite direction.

She was focused on the stage in front of her, she was counting the seats, analysing the tables and making sure no vires were peeking out from the carpet when a low voice behind her made her jump slightly.

“Bonsoir” there he was standing, his hands in the pocket of his pants, the material of his clothes looked expensive “You look beautiful”

She blinked at his compliment, fixing her posture, flashing him a warm smile.

“Thank you, you look handsome” a simple pleasantry, she felt nervous “Did u have a nice vacation?”

“It was alright” he shrugged not taking his eyes off of her. He was standing tall, but he seemed somehow weary “How was your vacation?”

“Busy” she nodded.

“I can see” he looked around “Where do you sit?”

“I’m staying here. Currently I’m making sure everything goes well with the plan. It’s about to start”

“Right. See you later, then, I hope”

She smiled back at him as he strode off to the centre of the room. That stupid pleased smile not seeming to leave her face.

The shoes were killing her, the dress suffocating her, the crowd turned more pressed and louder than from before the start of the event. She wondered where all these people came from so suddenly. The bathroom was a nice escape for some time, but she could not stay there forever. After freshening up a little she headed back, before her boss would chastise her for leaving her post. She had about a half an hour more to finish her duties. Just as she turned around the corner from the hall, she collided with something hard and swayed on her legs before she could process what has just happen. A huff leaving her mouth as she grabbed somebody’s arms, protecting herself from falling. There was an arm around her middle, keeping her steady.

“Now you’re falling into my arms, I see” she looked into Kylian’s eyes, a little breathless.

A small chuckle leaving her mouth as she still clung onto him, her eyes big and round, her heart beating faster, caused by the little accident.

“Technically I bumped onto you, I’m sorry”

“Don’t worry about it” he murmured and a second later she realised how close they were. She straightened up, her palms falling down his arms and she stepped away.

His hand placed on her back disappeared and she missed it already.

“Shouldn’t you be back there, with all these people so desperate for your attention?” she joked.

“They started to bore me, it’s tiring to keep up with their conversations. I was looking for a way out, and for you, to be honest”

Excitement rushed over her once again.

“Yes, it’s a little bit crowded now” she acknowledged.

“Should we sneak out?” he looked around them as if to check if someone might be lurking in the corner.

The question surprised her. She bit her lip considering what would happen if she left now, while her boss might in fact be looking for her. She had her phone, she would call her if she was needed. Maybe she’ll forget.

She didn’t suspect that they would end up in her apartment later that night. As they went out in the chilly night for a walk, she brought up the idea; she in fact lived nearby. It was an expensive area, so her apartment was a small studio in an old tenement.

“You well organised this place” his voice low, sounded much deeper in such noiseless surroundings “I like it” he took off his jacket to sit more comfortably on a little sofa in the middle of the living room.

There was ringing in her ears. She watched him a while, he seemed relaxed, no tension, no disguise. Calmness.

 “I had to separate a bit of space to arrange the bedroom. It’s minuscule, but it’s serving it’s purpose”

Looking for glasses she peeked his way to notice him unbuttoning the top of the black shirt he was wearing. The room was hot, she reminded herself that she has to open a window, but then the scent of his perfume hit her senses and she changed her mind quickly.

“Wine?” she asked innocently and he brought his eyes back to her.

“Sure”

She sat down on the other end of the sofa, very aware of his eyes following her movements. She wondered what kind of message was sent the moment she invited him to spend some time at her place. It was a friendly time. Or she thought so.

Her dress tightened as she sat down. She took a sip of her wine, slowly realising what kind of persona she was hosting at this hour at night. In her little apartment.

“It’s a nice place, how long do you live here?”

“Two years”

“Aren’t you tired of Paris already? Some say it gets suffocating after a while”

“It’s a wondrous city. Though it can get a bit lonely after some time” she shared, observing his curious gaze.

“Do you have someone?” his question was unexpected but voiced out in simple curiosity.

She smiled softly at him before brining her eyes down to her glass.

“No” she dragged “I don’t do dates” her comment made him laugh softly.

She frowned before her face broke into another smile.

“And you, Monsieur Mbappé? I can ask you the same”

“I don’t do dates” he smirked, a glint in his eyes.

She could smell another wave of his scent when he moved. She adored it, the heavy tones in his perfume were alluring.

“Oh, don’t you?” she jested “Smells like another lie”

“I’m too busy” he shrugged and it was her time to laugh.

“What about the sex?” she voiced it out loud. Yes. She was too nosy for her own good. And honestly, she loved to poke him places.

“I can ask you the same” he got back at her. She blinked, biting her lip timidly.

“I manage” she uttered bringing the glass back up to her lips.

“Oh, wow, sound exciting”

She sent him a chiding look, eyeing the amusement on his face as he examined her. She feared her lie was too much obvious. She was way too lonely, and her bed cold. And mostly because she was as well way too busy for any endeavours.

“As weird as this might sound, the sex can turn boring and predictable at some point. Or I don’t find it so compelling anymore. Or maybe I fail at choosing the partner” he stated confidently, she realised he opened up about a very intimate subject. But it stunned her.

“You’re twenty-six years old. Shouldn’t you enjoy it?” she questioned in surprise.

“It’s pleasant while it lasts, it’s a short moment, this quick shot of excitement but then it ends quickly and things turn uncomfortable”

She hummed in acknowledgement and he observed her lips flex into a smirk. She considered.

“Maybe you’re rushing it” she pointed.

“How so?”

“I’d say…” she started carefully, wondering how to chose her next words “Sex is the most intimate connection of the bodies, most importantly of the minds. It tastes the sweetest when you don’t reach for the grand part at once. You want to draw it out, build the tension, the want, by engaging all your senses with touch, caress, focus on the speeding heartbeats, deepening breathing, skin heating. It’s pleasant when the foreplay is longer than the act itself. But it’s not just about the foreplay being present, it’s about how you savour it, how you connect with the other person, how you see them experiencing it, how you build it all up. You delay the finale to the point of breakage, your limbs shaking, your head spinning. So when you reach it, the orgasm can be shattering. And the partner of your choosing have to awaken these kind of excitement for you, because if you consider it only a deed in order to reach your relief, it could turn predictable and uncomfortable, I think.”

Her eyes focused on the wall, her glass empty now. She risked to look his way and he seemed intrigued. His eyes dark, the room turned quiet.

“I don’t mean that you’re a bad lover” she stammered a little, bit embarrassed “It’s not like I know of it, it’s just…”

“Relax, I didn’t get it that way” he interrupted “It was captivating, you’re very passionate”

His presence here, in her little private setting and this conversation made her feel uneasy. She felt an urge to move closer to where he was seated. To whisper that she wants it all with him. Her breath stuck in her lungs when she realised, when he called her passionate. He was suffocating at this point, his big, manly figure on her little couch, his perfume. She knew how to make him feel it. And something in his face told her that he wanted her to.

She stood up reaching for the empty glasses with intention to fill it again. But he stopped her by grabbing her wrist. She knew this touch, yet this time it was gentler. His fingers glided down her skin to hold her own. He leaned back on the couch again, sitting like before, his posture relaxed, his eyes deep. She was burning.

“When was the last time you felt something like this?” he asked, she wanted to hear his deep voice closer to her ear.

She focused on the gentle touch, his fingers now playing softly with hers as he stared into her soul. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to speak out now, her voice locked out somewhere deep in her chest. She breathed through her lips slightly ajar.

“Right now” her voice much steadier than she thought.

His chest rose at her answer. He looked at their hands connected still.

“Show me, please”

Oh, God. She stood above him awkwardly for a moment after he let her hand fall back down. A gentle caress over her knuckles before he let go. Her knees weak as she took few steps back, her shaky fingers reaching the zipper of her dress. That was the moment, she was about to strip in front of him. She wanted to, badly. And the scene was powerful: him seated down, clad in finest clothes, his legs spread, his dangerous eyes drinking her in as she opened the back of her dress.

Her movements slow and delicate, her fingers keeping the straps of her dress for a moment before it fully slid down her body. His eyes followed it’s track, he didn’t move, she wasn’t able to read much from his face before his gaze met her own back again. In the first moment there was pure fascination and simple, almost childish like adoration in the glint in his eyes, but when he blinked it was all gone, and she could see his throat moving, ferocity in the darkness of his irises. He had all the power to break her, yet her purpose was to tame him.

She was bare, unveiled in front of him, only her most intimate place covered by a soft material of the thongs she was wearing.

“You are heavenly beautiful. How come you don’t already have all men howling at your feet?” his words surprised her, there was a bit of playfulness in his features, but honesty and admiration in his deep voice.

She chose to seduce him to the point of having him at her feet.

“Who are all these men compared to you?” she sang as she took little steps to where he was seated.

A cheeky smile broke on his face and she adored it.

“Are trying to play with my ego?” she was standing close, almost between his knees and he kept looking straight into her eyes.

“You don’t need me to, Kylian” she whispered “Everybody knows it for a fact” after these words she turned and carefully sat down to place herself between his legs, her back facing him.

She wanted to lead him, but as soon as his warm palms rested on her waist any words died in her throat and she sighed closing her eyes, delighted by the way the energy flew between them both. The touch was sweet. He leaned into her, his breath close to her ear and cheek. The material of his clothing soft, rousing with the contact of her bare skin. His hands glided lower, caressing her hips and then her thighs. She looked down and hummed at the sight of how big they were, she felt so small.

“You have pretty hands” she breathed, her eyes closing on it’s own as his palms slid up and then back down on the skin there, very slowly. She savoured the closeness of his body, his touch.

“Oh, you like them?” his breath hot on her skin, his words vibrating on the shell of her ear, she shivered “Where do you want me to put them?” said gentler, into her skin.

She leaned into him, relaxing limbs pressed into his torso.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

A whimper almost broke out of her, but she fought it, her eyes wide open and he moved his hands higher up her hips, resting them on her stomach.

“Yes” she answered, making sure to sound composed and confident, but her voice broke a little when his fingers moved up and gently stroked her nipples. She writhed against him. He was gentle, she was close to lose her mind. He knew what to do. He was doing it perfectly.

One of his hands moved up, roaming her throat and she placed her head back on his shoulder. She was floating in his embrace, his perfume intense, he indeed was her desires impersonated. It was turning her mad. She wanted all of him, badly.

“But we want to savour it, darling, don’t we?”

Long and tender fingers reached her jaw, moving higher, butterfly touches on her lips, she let him caress them before she timidly opened her mouth. He put his thumb in her mouth and her chest fell. Her breathing deepening, she sucked on his finger but he didn’t linger long, instead moved his hand back down, placing moistened digit on her nipple. Did the same thing with the other hand, his wet fingers playing so tauntingly softly with delicate buds. Her breathing sped up, he kept stimulating her, she was lightheaded. Her thighs closed on it’s own, her breathing was the most prominent sound in the room. Her spine bending, a mewl left her mouth as she could feel herself clenching around nothing.

“Ah, are you in need, love? Tell me” amusement in his voice, he enjoyed her struggling.

“Please” she whined weakly, opening her thighs to bring his attention there “Touch me”

His chest rumbled with a short laugh. Oh, he was a menace.

“You’re a sweet thing”

Using his hand he reached for her leg and hiked it up, wrapping it around his thigh. She anticipated. The first light touch of his fingers there made her wriggle into him. She could feel him, hard, pressed against her bum.

“So wet” in a low voice, her hand grasping the material of his pants, she was so patient, dying to keep up with it “You’re giving me everything I wanted and more”

She moaned, the sound much surer now, freed, with no intention to hide her arousal out of abashment. He was testing her, learning how to play her body, she was louder when he was gentler with her, delicate rubs against the material of her knickers. Her hand reached behind to hold on his neck. Her backside moving against him, he hummed, content with the friction there. His thumb hooked over the band of her thongs. She hoped.

“Kylian…” a soft whisper “Let me…”

“Should I?” few delicate pecks of his moist lips under her ear “Or should I… delay it?”

She cried out desperately in answer.

“How much can you take? The night’s still young, I should know before I make you take me in every possible way that comes to my mind till the very end of it” his fingers finally disappearing under the material, she gasped at the contact.

“Everything” she breathed “I’ll take everything”

“Now, you should be careful with such words” he pushed one finger inside her, swiftly, then another, she slumped onto him knowing that she’ll be finished in no time, he worked her up so well.

She no more had any kind of control over her own body. Just few quick pushes and she came on his fingers. Breathless, yet still wanton. Her legs were weak but she was brave, after few calm breaths she turned to face him. And she realised that she opened the darkest and the most dangerous doors he kept hidden and locked. She could see it in his eyes. Absolute elation, almost obsession. And she wanted to see it unleash. Wanted for him to let it all out free. She had a wild idea in her mind. 

She straddled him carefully, her hands wandering over his body, feeling his muscles, resting on his neck as she placed her lips near his ear.

“I mean it, you can take as much as you want, I’m yours for the night” she whispered, next bringing her face closer to his, thinking about kissing him right now “How do you want me, Kylian?” her voice even sweeter now as she looked into his eyes “Do you want me on my knees? Do you want me to put it in my mouth? I can go for hours”

There was a lazy smirk pulling at his cheeks. He seemed to not expect such words from her. But she wanted to keep going. She moved her hips forward to finally meet his, he grunted at the contact, she smiled in victory. He was so very ready. But they were playing their game now. He was good, she aimed to be even better.

“Or I can fuck you like this” and again, back and forth, dry humping him but slowly, dosing the sensations “Oh…I would love that. You don’t have to do anything. I can do everything for you, you deserve it” she purred, her lips so close to his, almost touching.

He chuckled and his eyes closed. She weakened him, he turned spellbound.

“Fucking hell” he murmured and she moved once more against him.

She wondered who will win this game at the very end, something was telling her it will most definitely be him, even if she had her sweet little moments right now.

He was trying to catch her lips but she shun away from him, testing him, tempting him, with a fierce smirk plastered on her face. A sharp spark in his eyes and she knew he had enough. He reached with his fingers and clasped them on her jaw, bringing her closer, a little roughness to it. But the kiss was gentle, delicate, so sweet she sighed into it. He grasped her hips and pressed her hard onto him, the kiss deepening, she moaned when their tongues met. He hummed and after few moments let go of her, sitting back comfortably, his hands spread on the back of the sofa, he was smiling at the sight of her flushed state.

“Go on then, baby. On your knees”

Her heart jumped in her chest at the sound of his deep voice. Excitement rushed all over her and she bit her lip when pictures of the pleasure she wanted to bring out of him run through her imagination. Her ears already full of the sound of him moaning her name. She slid to the floor, her shaky fingers reaching for the top of his pants, he observed her. When her fingers caught the zipper, one of his hands already rested on her nape and she knew he would not go easy on her. Her mouth watered at the thought of him using her, fucking her mouth, forcing her to choke on it to the point of tears running down her cheeks. She knew he would win, from the very start.

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do either 2003-2012 or bayverse headcanons or scenario with a crush reader that is emotionally a bit like Raphael? They are a bit more friendly than him and equally funny, kinda over independent on the “being taken care of” department, gets guilty and either lashes off or exclude themselves out of situations when they are anxious or feel overwhelmed by being “a problem”, doesn’t know how to lower their guard , neither believe they are worthy of someone’s heart, but deep inside they are affectionate and very loving (literally Raphael lol)

Hopefully this makes sense, if not (or if you don’t like the request) you can just ignore it

Thank you and have a good day / night

I will try my best anon! 🫡 Gonna do Bayverse because I feel like it would fit more for this scenario! (Also I fucking love the Bayverse turtles and I feel like I should start including them along with other turtle interpretations <3)

⚠️ Requests are closed, I am just putting out requests that I got before I closed them! Have 2 more to post out, posting another one today. Working on the other one currently as well. I will not do other requests until I’m off break, asks are still open though!

Lean On Me

🐢💙❤️Bayverse TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 692

CW: Gender neutral reader, referred mainly as ‘you’, probably not on-point with what anon wants but I tried my best TvT, sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for anon 🙏, fluff!

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 You and Leo will probably bump heads quite a bit with this stubborn nature of ‘not needing help’. My dude will not stand for it, he will help and protect you, no if’s and’s or but’s. Anytime you try to exclude yourself, he’s joining you, doesn’t want you to feel alone ever.

💙 Anytime you lash out he just takes it. He literally fights with Raph all the time. Will let you cool down, give you much needed space, then ask you to meditate with him to help clear your mind of these negative emotions.

💙 Will sit down with you multiple times and have talks with you, each time finally getting closer and closer to how you feel. Has the patience of a god and will wait as long as he can, don’t test him he’ll wait as long as he can. When you finally open up about how you feel, he’s good at reassuring you that he’s doing this because he wants to and because he cares for you. Is sure to give you words of affirmation every day until you finally feel comfortable to bring your walls down with him. And trust me when I say he definitely mentally celebrates, many kisses were given the day you did.

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Raph gets it, he really does, you’re a little more friendlier than him, but when you lash out he sees himself in you. He goes to you a lot to help you talk, and sometimes in return he’ll talk to you too. Therapy for each other.

❤️ Probably the quickest of the brothers to work you through these issues. Again, he gets it because when he looks at you and how you act based on your emotions, he can only see himself, and he doesn’t want you to go through a lot of emotional pain he went through.

❤️ Big old cuddle bug with you, once both of your shells are broken through. Doesn’t really leave you alone often either so you don’t dwell on these negative thoughts and try to close yourself off again. Anxious thoughts can lead to overthinking and he knows that pretty well.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Donnie is a little awkward in the emotional department, (and I honestly say that for every Donnie, not always the best in the emotional-department), so he’s kinda having a hard time here. Doesn’t mean he isn’t trying though. He’s trying to give you the right words in order to help.

💜 But he does what he doesn’t usually do, listen. He’ll hear you out if you ever finally break down your walls, and he won’t interrupt because it’s important to him to know how you feel. He’ll work on solutions when you’re done.

💜 He really does care about you, but when it comes to being lashed out at or you trying to exclude yourself, it kinda catches him off guard. But he stays on it, he lives with Raph after all. Has pretty good patience with you and will keep that patience going for as long as he can push it. Overall, he does pretty well and has a lot of patience, and will put his gadgets to the side for you.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Mikey’s happy that you’re more on the friendlier side at the very least, but he kinda flinches back at the times you lash out. But no worries, he’s persistent. Surprisingly goes for advice from his brothers and his father and actually listens.

🧡 Will approach you with this newfound information and tries to be as reassuring as possible with you, though please do forgive him when he messes up, he’s trying so hard for you. :(

🧡 Always by your side a lot of the time and is always reassuring, he’s getting you to do stuff with him to keep your mind off the ‘what if-’ not here honey, not gonna happen. He’s a lot of fun and with him it kinda makes your negative emotions and thoughts melt away before you're smiling and laughing with him. The day you finally cuddle and kiss him, I think he actually kinda starts to tear up. He’s proud of you, truly, and he’s happy that his Angelcakes is comfortable enough with him.

[pennyblossom-meta]

Gale/Karlach banter

Similar to my previous post: Gale/Wyll banter.

Warning: VERY long post.

Because the dialogue lines are so many, I won't add screenshots in some sections.

I'll add more items from Gale's side either here on a separate post.

Update: added some more dialogue lines

Act 01

Gale intervenes on Karlach's behalf (currently impossible to trigger)

Gale: Easy, Wyll. She's no devil. There's no fight to be had here.

Recruiting Gale

Karlach: Well done getting the wizard on board. He can zap from afar while I smack up close. But if he tries to get me to read any tomes, I will scream. devnote: Context, Karlach does not like to read

Recruiting Karlach

Gale: An ally fresh from the Hells themselves. Our company grows stranger by the minute - and all the better for it.

If Wyll is the avatar

Gale: Hunting one devil, allying yourself with another. Our journey gets more curious by the second.

First night at camp

Karlach: Gale's pretty lost in his thoughts, isn't he. Poor guy. Roughing it like this can't be his style. devnote: Genuine empathy

—

Taking a walk through the forest

Gale: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit. devnote: Brisk, invigorated Karlach: I was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically. devnote: dreamily Gale: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles. Karlach: A girl could get used to this. devnote: relieved and happy

—

Blighted Village

Karlach: Looks like this town was ransacked - by soldiers, if my eyes don't deceive me. Gale: Quite cruelly, too. Karlach: Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here. Gale: If nothing else, I hope it was a mercifully short one.

—

At the Grymforge

Gale: The architects who built this must have been remarkable. A pity their vision didn't stand the test of time. devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place. devnote: Impressed with what she sees Gale: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you? Karlach: Hope keeps you going.

—

Underdark

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

—

Act 02

Plains, near the Temple of Lathlander (or is this in Act 01?)

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away. devnote: dreamily Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. Gale: No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway. devnote: Black humour/finding the bright side

—

Mountain Pass

Karlach: Man, adventuring is thirsty work. Gale: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale. Karlach: That sounds like heaven! Wait. Used to? Gale: Oh, yes - long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still - at least your thirst for knowledge is quenched. Karlach: Ugh. devnote: Groaning at Gale's cringe joke

—

On the road to the Shadow Cursed lands

Gale: Do you feel that? A darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave. devnote: Alert, sensing something Karlach: You'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right? Gale: Of course, but that doesn't make the shadows less dangerous. devnote: Reassuring Karlach, whiloe remaning concerned about the wider dangers Karlach: Joy. devnote: sarcasm

—

Shadow Cursed lands

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh - that's just how things are. Grim humour to it Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

—

Last Light Inn, Shrine to Selûne

Gale: A hidden shrine, dedicated to the Moon Maiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on. Karlach: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?

—

Tollhouse

Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe. devnote: Confident

—

Brewery

Karlach: Huh. A brewery. Why does Reithwin Ale ring a bell? Gale: It was known to be quite the tipple - a cask or two still exists, if you know the right alekeep... devnote: Enjoying being the expert on this. He definitely knows 'the right alekeep' Karlach: You must have good taste. Not me. Can't afford it. Gale: A common misconception. Even the simplest of flavours are elevated by the choice to appreciate them. Don't deny yourself such pleasures. devnote: Kind/encouraging

—

Moonrise approach

Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. devnote: Facing an obstancle with cheery determination Karlach: In that case, welcome home.

—

Moonrise Docks

Karlach: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right? Gale: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not. devnote: Yeahhh… no. Karlach: Phew. My mum always said the Chionthar was unlucky.

—

At the mind flayer colony, under Moonrise Towers

Gale: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place... devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess. Gale: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd have been quite happy without.

Act 03

Blushing Mermaid

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (first half) Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (second half)

—

Counting House

Gale: They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in. Karlach: Nor I. Never had more than a few coppers in the city, and any soul coins in Avernus went straight to Zariel. Gale: Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.

—

Sorcerous Sundries

Gale: Look around you. Indulge your curiosity. Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Where's the axes? devnote: looking for battle-axes to the dismay of bookworm Gale Gale: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield. They sell knowledge, ingenuity, the wisdom of mages past. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Sounds like more your thing than mine.

Romance

Breakups and relationship status

Karlach's side

Player breaks up with Karlach over Gale

Karlach: Fuck off if you're here to talk about Gale. I already know. devnote: Wounded/ sadPlayer was partnered with Karlach, but ended up choosing Gale. Karlach found out on her own and is now reacting. This shouldn't be a mega aggro 'fuck off,' more like a 'go away'. Karlach: Couldn't tell me to my face, huh? Had to wait 'til I just... just figured it out. devnote: sad/bitter

Karlach: Whoa. What? You... want to be with Gale...? devnote: Copping on that the player is here to breakup with her Karlach: Since when?! devnote: angry and hurt

Karlach: I should've known Gale would weave his spell on you. Who could resist? devnote: Bittersweet. Player is dumping her for Gale. She's sad but still on good terms and trying to keep things light. Karlach: I know I had... well. You know I liked you. Like you. But I want you to be with someone who can make you happy. If that's Gale, that's Gale. devnote: Heartbroken but mature. (...) Karlach: Hope you don't regret throwing over all this fire for all that hot air. One'll get you through winter, the other'll recite you a lot of codices. But hey. To each their own. devnote: Heavy on the subtext. She's putting a lighthearted/ sarcastic spin on the fact that the player just friendzoned her for gale.

Karlach: When Gale's on page one hundred thirty six of a supremely boring recitation, and you look over and there I am throwing a lasso around a giant centipede and riding it to Chult, I'll have my comeuppance. devnote: Still keeping it a bit light/teasing

Karlach: Gale climbed out of the Weave long enough to waggle his eyebrow in your direction, huh? devnote: Still a little light. She does like Gale, despite his high-falutin-ness, so she doesn't mean this to hurt him.

Player chooses Karlach over Gale

Karlach: I thought you and Gale were... I don't know. Karlach: Gale will be all right, right? Of course he will. He's Gale. If he can take a hit from Mystra, he can take it from you.

Gale is the player and is in a relationship with Karlach

Player: My future's no more certain than your own. But when I dare to imagine having one, it's always you I see beside me. Karlach: I'm seeing you at a desk. Pile of books up to the ceiling. And me barging in with a brace of rabbits for supper. Karlach: You start chopping carrots. I stoke the fire. And every night is the best night we've ever had.

Date with Karlach, Gale is the player character

Karlach: You know, it does. There's always a bit of a veil about you - I guess it's the magic, but there's something else, too. Something I want to discover first-hand.

Q: Tell me a secret

Player: I once claimed to have read all six volumes of 'Lichen and Its Curative Properties' to impress a comely botanist. Alas, a falsehood. Karlach: You mean you haven't read all six volumes?! Gale Dekarios, I'll never look at you the same. devnote: Teasing

Player: I'm afraid I'm doomed to repeat past mistakes, no matter how I try to avoid them. Karlach: I know what you mean. Changing is hard. Every time I think I've figured it out, boom, there I am again, behaving like some version of me that never learned a damn thing.

—

Gale's side

Gale: And what of Karlach? Her heart can surely break, though it burns.

Breaking up with Gale for Karlach

Gale: Karlach, yes? You burn for each other in more ways than one. Gale: I... I thought you would show me the respect of telling me first, but no matter. You can tell me now - who is it to be? Me, or her? Player: I'm sorry, Gale. I want to be with Karlach. Gale: Don't be - she has a good heart. Poor phrasing - she has a terrible heart. But she's surprisingly caring, considering it.

At the tiefling party

Gale: You might be in for an adventure with Karlach. More than you bargained for - with a bit of luck. Gale: Or perhaps more than you bargained for - full stop.

Talking about Tara

Gale: You remind me of her somewhat. You share her fierceness, and her passion.

Be my God, boat scene

Gale: I'll always have you, Karlach.

Act 01

Gale had first stage of romance/attraction with player - not yet anything official. Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you: devnote: Attempting nonchalance Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it? devnote: Attempting nonchalance Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals. Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.

Gale: You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality... devnote: Hint of flirtation, mostly just trying to be helpful Karlach: Ugh. Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what? Gale: Actually, I was thinking of poetry. Karlach: Oops, sorry. But... now that I think of it... is mage hand especially hard to learn?

—

Act 02

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. devnote: Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire. Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me? devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'

—

Act 03

Gale: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach? Karlach: I sure am. If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? devnote: With concern Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. devnote: Upbeat, things are looking up Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. devnote: Upbeat mood wavering - this is a bit embarassing Karlach: I can only imagine. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'

—

Karlach dies at the end of the game, Gale is the player character

Player: Karlach, please... I'm not ready to go on without you. devnote: Distraught, lover is dying.

variant 01: Karlach is dying, Gale is a friend

Gale: No, Karlach. Stay with me, please. We've shared too much to part like this.

—

Game finale (not epilogue)

Karlach is the player character

Gale gave the Crown to Mystra

Gale is in a romance with Karlach

Option 01

Gale: It's curious. After all the wonders and monstrosities we've witnessed, waking beside you seems more unreal than any of it. devnote: Wistful/peaceful - spent a romantic night with the person he loves Gale: I'd forgotten what it felt like, to greet a sunrise without fear of it being my last. devnote: Wistful/peaceful Gale: Oh, hells. I'm sorry. Barely awake a moment and I've already put my foot in it. devnote: Kicking himself, he's accidentally rubbed salt in his partner's very sore wound Player: Don't be. At least one of us will get the cure we were hoping for.

Option 02

Player: Don't be. It's not your fault. Gale: Come now - resignation doesn't suit you half as well as optimism. We'll find some other means of fixing up that infernal engine of yours. devnote: Caring/Encouraging

Option 03

Player: Knowing you, I'd expect nothing less. Gale: You always find a smile where others would soak in their sorrows. And I promise - you'll have reason to smile soon enough. Gale: When we get to Waterdeep, we'll search in my library. It's bound to contain the odd scroll on hellish thermodynamics. Or a spell that might diffuse the heat in such a way that - Gale: Ah. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you... that is, would you consider returning to Waterdeep with me? devnote: A bit nervous to ask - this is Karlach, after all Player: I can't. My only hope of survival is to return to Avernus - and I'm not going back. Gale: What, then? You intend to die here? Now? devnote: Refuses to believe it - essentially been told his partner is submitting to her illness

Option 04

Player: I'd love to, Gale, but I can't. My engine is done. Fully cooked. Gale: I - I don't believe it. I won't believe it. Gale: If you go were to return to the hells - temporarily - it would buy us some time. I could put something together, a means of keeping you stable at least. Please, let me try. devnote: Trying to convince her, scared by what she's saying (that she's ready to die) Player: And hand myself to Zariel on a platter? No thanks.

Option 05

Player: Say nothing. Concentrate. You feel like you might explode any second. Gale: I know that look. It's your heart isn't it? Not to worry - you have one of the finest wizards in the Realms at your fingertips.

Gale suggests going to Avernus with Karlach

Player: I'm not going back, Gale. I can't. Gale: What if... what if I went with you? devnote: Scared by his own suggestion

Option 01

Player: I couldn't let you do that. You deserve better. Gale: I deserve the chance to live my life with the raging inferno I love. If that means relocating to the hells, so be it. I've heard Avernus is quite lovely this time of year. Gale: Besides, it would be quite something to study infernal magic in its natural environs. I say 'natural' in the loosest sense, of course.

Option 02

Player: If you were with me, I might be able to handle it. Gale: There's nothing we can't handle - I promise you that. devnote: Essentially his partner just refused treatment for a terminal illness. He's putting a brave face on it so they can enjoy the time they have left. Gale: It's taken me long enough to find you. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go.

Option 03

Player: No, Gale. Neither of us is going to that pit. It all ends here. Now. I just want to see the sky one last time. Gale: If this is the end, then we face it together. That, at least, I can promise you. devnote: Heartbroken - his lover is dying next to him, thanking her for loving him

—

Gale is the player character

Karlach is a mind flayer

Gale goes back to Waterdeep

Player: I think this is where we part ways, Karlach. Karlach: I accept your assessment. You would have been an excellent helpmate in my exploration of what it is to live. But perhaps we are both of us too... changed. Karlach: Where will you go now? Player: Back to Waterdeep. I've a warm fire and a long-neglected reading list to get through.

—

Epilogue

Karlach is dead, was partnered with Gale. Karlach: I can see Gale? Withers: Indeed. His story has marched on since thy great victory - as inevitable as time itself. Let us observe.

Note: will do the rest in a separate post.

Misc banter

Gale: I think your new form rather suits you. It has a certain... cephalopodic charm to it. A tentacular tingle. devnote: Karlach will live! Yay! But she is a mind flayer

Gale: I can imagine no finer ceremorph for the job.

Gale is the player character, hasn't shared his backstory Player: I've a... condition I need to manage. I'd still be looking for a cure. Karlach: We have more in common than I knew. I won't pry for details. Right now, at least. devnote: Karlach wants the goss but won't pry

Gale is the player character, shared backstory Player: Wandering the wilds of Faerûn searching for a cure to the orb. If I lived that long... Karlach: Living a normal lifespan is so yesterday. Believe me.

—

Gale: Revenge is a dish best served hot, it seems. At least when you're in charge of the menu. devnote: Dark humour - your friend achieved her goal, but you know she'll not live long enough to celebrate

—

Gale: Ceremorphosis is Karlach's only chance of survival. It must be her. devnote: Impressed, finding this all very interesting

Gale: No sense dawdling. Karlach has precious little time left to her - we'd do better than to waste

Gale: I've not seen infernal flames like that in quite some time. Why go to Avernus, when you can bring Avernus to us? devnote: Curious/pondering - a rhetorical question, no response from player

—

Gale: I know well the pain of seeing your life's hourglass running empty, grasping at any means of slowing the grains as they slip inexorably through your fingers. devnote: Sincere, a note of pity - Gale once thought he was fated to die because of the orb, so her truly understands what she's going through Gale: Your fate may be ordained, but your actions are not. Make each breath count, and what time you have with us will never be wasted.

Gale: Karlach's fate may be ordained, but her actions are not. She will make each breath count - we can be sure of that devnote: Finding solace in the thought

—

Ilithid transformation

Player: It's okay, Gale. Karlach wants to transform. She'll do it, for herself and for us. Gale: Then I will hold my peace. But if the time comes when even her sacrifice is not enough, call on me, and I will be ready.

Gale thinks that becoming a mind flayer is his best chance at getting the Crown

Gale: I know Karlach has the best intentions, but her kind heart is not going to help me get that crown. Let me do this.

About Gale, Mystra, Elminster, etc

The dialogue lines for this section can be found in the file /Dialogs 2/Companions/Karlach_InParty_Nested_TopicalGreetings.html

—

Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing what Elminster said to Gale. Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: Hey! Maybe I'm invited too. I can be the muscle.

(variation)

Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing. So Mystra wants to talk, does she? Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: ...can I come?

—

Karlach learns about Mystra's message

Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all.

Player: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. devnote: Being cheeky

Player: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms.

—

Meeting Elminster Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad?

(variation, if the player is Gale)

Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad?

—

Gale is the Player, talks about Elminster's message from Mystra

Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Player: Yes it was. Good old Grandfather Dekarios, come to check in on his doting grandson. Karlach: Lovely! You should've introduced him around. Elders love me, and I love them. Player: I'm joking, Karlach. That was Elminster Aumar, the Sage of Shadowdale, one of the greatest wizards to ever live? Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: It relates to a 'condition' I have. I carry an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. It seems Mystra wants me to detonate that orb and destroy the 'Heart of the Absolute.'

Player: He brought instructions from Mystra. I'm to find the Heart of the Absolute, and destroy it by detonating the orb in my chest. Karlach: The orb in your chest? Shit - I knew something was going on with you, but I didn't know the particulars. Karlach: Well. Turns out we have more in common than I knew. Except I'm trying not to blow up, and you've been instructed to do just that.

Karlach: Wow. That's... that's big, Gale. This is Mystra we're talking about. Goddess of magic - and she's asking you to sacrifice yourself. Karlach: What are you thinking? devnote: As in, 'What are your thoughts about this serious revelation?' Player: This could be my chance at redemption. I have to at least consider dong what she asked. Karlach: Only you can decide if that's really true. If you owe her your life. As for me, I'm positive we can stop the Absolute without losing you, Gale. Karlach: Keep that in mind, all right?

Player: I'm not quite sure yet. It's a big decision. Karlach: No kidding. What could be bigger? Look, I know what it's like to house something dangerous inside you. But I don't know what it's like for someone else - someone I trust - to ask me to use it against myself. Karlach: If you need a friend, you know where to find me. Right here. Right now.

Player: Now that I'm over the shock, I'll probably ignore her request entirely. Karlach: I'm glad to hear you say that. It is shocking. Imagine asking someone to - to end themselves like that. Karlach: Nothing's ever simple anymore, is it? Whatever you decide, I've got your back. But I think we can defeat the Absolute without losing you, Gale.

Player: That remains to be seen. Karlach: Oh? What did he say? Player: I'd rather not talk about it right now. It's a lot to process. Karlach: All right, soldier. But look, if you're in a fix that can be solved by fire or fists, just point me in the right direction. I mean it.

Player: Elminster's no ordinary elder. He's the most renowned wizard in the realms. Karlach: Your grandfather is the most famous wizard in the realms? Karlach: I should've guessed. I mean, you're pretty powerful. Makes sense that it's in your blood. Player: No, Karlach - I was joking before. Elminster isn't my grandfather. But he did tell me something quite serious. Karlach: I'm listening. What did he say?

Karlach: Wonder if he's (Elminster) a wizard too. He's certainly got the beardliness for it

Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

—

Karlach: Wow. 'Chosen of Mystra.' I guess I should congratulate Gale. Right? devnote: Karlach is happy for Gale. Suspicious of Mystra but trying to be supportive. Karlach: I trust him to know what he's doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. I just hope he knows he doesn't need her favour to be fucking fantastic.

(variation, if partnered with Karlach)

Karlach: Wow, Gale. 'Chosen of Mystra.' Congratulations, I think? Karlach: I trust you to know what you're doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. Just know that even without her - even without any of the gods - you're still pretty fantastic. Karlach: 'Chosen of Karlach' has a ring to it, right?

—

Karlach: Whoa. I've seen a lot, but never been threatened by a god. Karlach: It sounded like Gale really meant it. He really wants to take control of the Karsite Weave. Karlach: He really wants to be a god. devnote: She's not bought in. She's assessing Gale here. Measuring him.

(variation)

Karlach: Interesting. devnote: Suspicious

If Gale is the player character

Karlach: Interesting. I'll keep that in mind. devnote: She's starting to lack trust in Gale here

—

Gale is noncommital about returning the crown

Karlach: Wow, Gale. So you spoke to Mystra, right? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But I think you were right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies. Karlach: Proud of you, though. It takes some man to hold his own in front of the divine.

Karlach: Wow. So Gale really talked to Mystra, huh? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But he's right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies.

—

Gale is blessed by Mystra Karlach: You're glowing, Gale. Mystra must be very pleased with you indeed. Don't forget us little people when you're the Chosen of the God of Magic, hm?

Karlach: Gale looks chuffed as cheese. Mystra must be very pleased with him. Let's hope she's got his best interests in mind.

—

Gale agrees to return the Crown to Mystra

Karlach: Wow. Gale is the 'Chosen of Mystra'. Congrats to him, I think? Karlach: Hope he knows what he's doing. We haven't fared very well with other Chosens so far.

—

Gale uses Shadow Weave

Karlach: Hope you know what you're doing, Gale. I'm no paladin for Mystra, but she probably has good reasons for forbidding Shadow Weave.

Karlach: Gale's walking a thin line. Let's hope he doesn't fall headfirst over it - again.

—

Orin kidnaps Gale Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back. devnote: Seething

—

Gale is resurrected Karlach: This fella Gale has as many lives as a cat. Handy guy to have around, huh?

—

Karlach: You all right, Gale? Looking a little shadowy about the gills.

(variation)

Karlach: Is Gale all right? He's looking a little shadowy about the gills.

—

Items and Netherese orb comments

Karlach: Wide berth, buddy. I have some good equipment I don't want you swallowing.

Karlach: The people you meet, I swear... devnote: A little bemused

Karlach: Much as I commiserate with your, you know, thingie. devnote: 'tough ticks' is a karlachism

Karlach: I like Gale, but I'm keeping all my good gear well out of sight. Karlach: Everything fancy he touches meets a grisly end. Karlach: I commiserate with his situation, though. It's tough ticks housing something you can't control.

Gale is the player character

Karlach: Hey now, what happened to that fancy bit of gear? Player: It's a long story involving the Weave, an ancient tome, and a failed attempt to please Mystra, goddess of magic. Karlach: Hm. And now you have to consume gear Karlach really wants because... Player: Because I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city. Karlach: Well, shit. And I thought I had it bad. Karlach: That's a tough hand, Gale. But I'm glad you told me. A chest-bomb shared is a chest-bomb halved, or whatever. Karlach: If I spot anything that'll help, I'll hand it right over, pal. We're in this together.

Player: Because if I didn't, I'd be dangerous to all of us. Karlach: Are we talking some kind of were-wizard situation here, or...? Player: I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city.

Player: Just because. Karlach: Wizards and their secrets. Buddy, I could ruin that mind of yours with the stories I could tell. Nothing you say could scare me. When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen.

Player: I had to consume it. Sorry if that scuppered any plans you had for it. Karlach: I'd mind less if I knew the full story. Never seen a fellow suck the magic-marrow out of an item before.

[moonshine-009]

This fandom though smh all the people wanting to stick up and support Ryan while being an anti Eddie this or a pro Eddie that, but hate getting called out for being a hypocrite... I'm tired of seeing them "separate the actor from the character," when they're more than willing to bash every other transphobic, racist, sexist, homophobic, ageist, misogynistic, ableist, fascist, anti vax, etc, remark or topic, but still have positive post about Ryan Guzman. They aren't "protecting their peace." That's not how it works. They're choosing to ignore what he's doing because it'll disrupt their fantasy of the show. Seriously, why are they posting about current anti transphobic topics and then the next post it's "Ryan's dumb mustache 😍🥵🫠" as if he didn't just get exposed AGAIN for having transphobic ties this past week????

They don't want to hear that Ryan is the problem. Everybody, fan or anti, still calls out Lou, and everytime they admit and drill that he is at fault, but Ryan ALWAYS gets a pass, and we should move on because he gave a disingenuous apology all the non bpocs accepted on our behave or it was "so long ago???" Make that make sense... Also, no one wants to bring up anything else he's done either! But even so they're not advocating for anything in the fandom with only "Lou is racist," when they won't even accept that what Ryan did wasn't just as bad, it was worse than what Lou did, they both were wrong but let's be real Ryan has more to make up for than Lou but yet Lou isn't unforgivable???

How can people still say, "It's his upbringing, and he was taught that way" only for Ryan? They really want to compare Ryan and Lou's family situations? Seriously? Which one of them is estranged from their abusive bigot father, and which one is still surrounded by his ignorant friends/family who he proudly stuck up and admitted were all racist like him? (Also, which one of them did people have to fake and edit hate material because there wasn't anything new? 👀)

And they need to stop saying everyone who calls out Ryan is racist. I'm very familiar with all the excuses he made, and just as I've said to my White/Latinx family and friends, all of what was said IS absolutely racist. He doesn't get a pass because of where he lived, and everyone around him said it, and the more they deny it, the worse it is. Everyone who accepted his apology should understand he was willingly stating his ignorance.

These stans though... They're just as phony wanting to play both sides and have no consequences. They can't stand by what they're voicing. Saying "anti *** BUT I don't tolerate any hate towards (actor)" when that actor is still problematic as of today...

Nearly everyone has said/done something awful in the past, but there's only a few that still are choosing to continue that behavior. Many of the 9-1-1/LS cast/crew/company "should've been canceled" for things they've done. Most acknowledged their wrongs, sincerely apologized, stopped and grew up and changed their views and redeemed themselves. That's the difference. Ryan is still the same Ryan. Fans forgave after one forced apology, and now they ignore that he's still actively messed up because what he's attractive or he's a part of their favorite ship or his hate doesn't personally affect them???

*But yes, let's only call out Lou's issues and keep posting about how wonderful Ryan is and talk about wanting to bring back Ronda, Cocoa, Edy, Rockmond, etc. back because they were also soooo unproblematic* 🙃

Yes, call it as we see it, Lou did some messed up shit. But for them to say Lou is worse for 10+ year old post, but stay quite when Ryan continuously talks/posts/likes disgusting views to this very day 😒 That's the thing, Lou's past caught up with him, his PAST. Ryan gets exposed every week because he's still updating his accounts with that stuff.

(and you don't have to post/reply to this if it might get backlash but 👏🏾 big sigh)

me being a white person I don't get to say if I expect Ryan's "apology " or not. Some other white people in the fandom on Twitter really had the audacity to say why people still hating on Ryan and he apparently has changed?!! It's not our place to say !!

And saying he has changed after what he is sharing on Instagram is honestly really laughable.

And they also say Oliver would hate Lou for things he was posting a decade ago this is why he doesn't want to work with him. So they basically saying that he is totally fine working with Ryan ???

When a ship is more important than having morals.

They always protect Oliver and Ryan and don't call them out.

It just makes me so mad seeing Ryan posting all that shit. And people posting him all over Instagram even the cast is hanging out with him.

People are so comfortable being openly transphobic and homophobic, racists these days without any consequences.

They said when the actress who plays Marisol was posting that transphobic shit, why would they want a cast member in a show with LGBTQIA+ storylines. These same people are really quiet right now about Ryan.

So they totally fine with what he shares on Instagram? ???

[kedreeva]

Hi! I have a small farm but your posts have made me consider adding some peafowl. I've had guineafowl and chickens but god would i love peafowl. I also saw your posts with your hand raised peahen in the house, and I was wondering if she's actually litter trained? I have some bottle babies but have transferred them all out to typical barn/pasture existence, but if I could litter train a peafowl for (partial) indoor existence that would be glorious

As I have said many many times before and will likely say many many times again, you do not want a permanent house peafowl, I promise you. Bug was indoors with me because a) I have over a decade of experience with these birds, b) I did a sex linked breeding so I KNEW that she was a girl from the second she hatched c) I didn't particularly want to hand raise her, but I also wanted sleep and the birds are brooded in the house and she would not stop screaming d) I knew I was going to be home full time basically 24/7 to raise her without having to leave her on her own for long stretches while I was at work and e) I raised her with the full intention of putting her out when she was old enough to hold her own with the big birds- and that's where she currently lives, outside where she belongs.

They cannot be house/litter trained, the most you can do is diaper them, and they're not big enough for that for a few months and wearing one is always a risk- if they catch a toe from a poorly-fitted or poorly-applied diaper, they are strong enough to break their own legs and/or break their necks/wings struggling to get out.

Unlike standard breed chickens and farm waterfowl, peafowl can fly, like Actually Fly, and they can do so from about day 3 of life. You don't want a 10lb bird throwing itself around your house, because they're not passerines, they can't grasp things with their feet so they will just knock everything you love over in an attempt to find flat ground to stand on wherever they want to be. And they WILL throw temper tantrums when they're not getting their way- when you aren't sharing food, when you aren't going to bed at 6pm in the winter, when you aren't performing their daily schedule right, etc. They're just smart enough to be assholes, and big enough that that's a problem.

On top of that, males that are hand raised become exceedingly aggressive at maturity, to the point where many have been put down because they will relentless hunt and attack humans in their territory, and they have nasty spurs on their legs, and the ability to fly and to jump at least 6 feet up and hardly use their wings, which means they CAN jump and spur you in the face- and unlike chickens, they know where your face is, and will go for it. I've seen several folks with injuries from aggressive boys where the person narrowly escaped losing an eye. I, myself, was clawed over one eye once just from a bird that was eluding capture, and I'm well aware how much more badly that could have gone if she'd meant it rather than just trying to get away from being caught. The hens are (usually, although I've seen an exception) not aggressive, but unless you have the ability to socialize a hand raised hen with other birds, they have a hugely difficult time adapting to living in a flock, and I've heard many others refuse to breed with the males of their own kind. If they can't adapt to socializing with other birds, they can stress hugely when left alone or with other birds, and this can make them prone to illness.

The photos are cute, but this is a 110% "please do not attempt this at home" kind of deal. I've been caring for/learning about peafowl and their care in some way for 20 years and breeding them for the last 15 or so and I can say with my whole chest that you don't need any complications when getting into peafowl. There are already a million things that can go wrong just trying to raise a peafowl in a normal way, people kill the babies so often that a) reputable breeders often refuse to sell before 3 months old so they are well started and hardy and b) at least one Large Scale breeder I know of sells multi-pack day old chicks (the "discards" from his experimental pens) for super cheap because he fully expects them to die so he doesn't have to worry about competition on rare color breeding and can still make a buck.

If you want peafowl, and you have the space and the ability to pen one properly, and access to proper food and vet care, and you've done research on care and behavior, then absolutely go for it, they make great farm animals and they're really easy to befriend as subadults and even as adults and some birds are even super chill and will come right up and say hi (like Eris, whom I took home from another breeder because I visited and she just walked up and started inspecting me for treats like a chicken). But they do not make great indoor pets, even partially as adults.

[void-ink-studios]

Wrath of the Wishmaster

You asked, you shall receive.

Thanks for helping me clear my writer's block. I might write more scenes that happened prior to this, but enjoy what's here for now! Might post to AO3 later, who knows?

Enjoy babes!

Word count: 2,500

There were many things Scarab did not understand about the Wishmaster, Prismo.  Many… Many things.

Why did an all powerful being decide to spend its eternity making pickles and writing fan fiction of the universes he observed?  Why, of all things to add to the featureless Time Cube, was there a hot tub?

And why, above all, did he tolerate all of Scarab's... strangeness?

Because no one liked bugs.

That was the lesson Scarab had learned in his eons of existence.

No one liked bugs.  At least, not the kind of bug he was.

Of course, people like butterflies.  They liked to watch the pretty and dainty little things as they flutter along.  But only from a distance.  People still recoiled if they got a good look at their face.  Or anything that reminded them that they’re bugs, and not just living little splashes of color.

And Scarab was no butterfly.

He was a beetle.  Was?  Is?  He wasn’t sure anymore.  So much of himself had changed since he first emerged from his burrow.

And yet, there was Prismo, calling his little chirps and trills "cute." Encouraging him to find places in the Time Room to burrow and hide and crawl.

There was Prismo, who didn't recoil at the site of his real face. Who saw his strange mouth and eyes and decided to kiss it all over, rather than hide it behind his mask again.

So no, he did not understand many of how Prismo operated. But Scarab was not about to complain. He felt more alive in his own shell than he has in eons. He kept his mask off more often than on these days. His hidden arms had seen more exercise than ever before. He was starting to remember the strange language of chirps and trills and buzzes from his old home.

Of course, there were still bad days. Days where he had to sit still and stare at something stationary just to remember what direction was up. Days where he crawled away into one of his hidden nooks to tremble out of sight.

He had been reluctant to let Prismo in on those days, at first. He held up walls and scooted away and flinched enough to get the Wishmaster to back off for quite a while.

But, as he came back into contact with himself, and as Prismo called him beautiful and quirky, rather than disgusting and unsettling, the walls came down.

He wasn't ready to tell him what happened to his antenna and wings. But, Prismo was at least there to turn the screen wall to something calming. Or to rub his aching back and shoulders on days where he could do little else but shake.

It was... nice. He hesitated to call it wonderful, but it really was. Much better than a bug deserved, but he was not about to remind Prismo of that.

No, he had Orbo to do that for him.

He knew he had grown far too comfortable with Prismo when he heard the orb roll into the Time Room, loudly calling for his buddy the Wishmaster. Who was not currently there, but instead tending to his pickles for the moment. He trusted Scarab to watch the main room for any wishers, which he had been doing diligently from his perch on the ceiling.

Scarab froze, stuck to the ceiling like he was pinned there.

Maybe if I don't move, he won't notice I'm here.

It was a nice thought. But when had the universe been nice to him before?

"Uhm... Scarab? Mate? Whatcha doing up there? I thought we cleared up a while back that that creeped people out."

Scarab stayed silent as he crawled back down the wall. He ignored the way Orbo visibly shivered at his method of locomotion, standing at attention once his feet touched the floor.

He unconsciously made a nervous, light buzzing sound, his mouth parts clicking together as the orb stared at him like a disection project.

"So, what's all this then? You think just because Prismo's not here, you can do whatever you want? I thought we talked about this forever ago, Scrabs. You might be just a bug, but you got raised to the pantheon. You gotta act like it."

Orbo rolled to look around the Time Room. Scarab reached gingerly for the remote, trying to alert Prismo to their visitor.

"Seriously, I still feel bad enough for Prismo to get stuck looking at you when you were at your best. If he's stuck with you, it's the least you could do to not creep the guy out. That's not how you show appreciation, Scrabs."

Scarab tried to tune it out. He wasn't creepy, not to Prismo, Prismo called him beautiful, insect traits and all. Orbo swung around to look at him, now noticing his face.

"Where's your mask, man? No one wants to see the horror show your kind calls a mouth. It's bad enough when we have to watch you eat, you can at least put the rest of it away."

Scarab felt small. Tiny. Just like he did when he first met Orbo, who took one look at him, and decided he wasn't meant for the glittery Judgement Hall. He barely even noticed when he shuffled the plates back over his face.

"Much better. So, where's Prismo then? Not like I came all this way to talk to you, right?"

Orbo laughed. Scarab didn't. He just kept his eyes trained to the floor, still quietly chirping to steady his nerves. His world started to feel tilted. What he wouldn't do for his cane right now.

"Cut it with the noise, mate. It's like you've forgotten you're a god or something. You want to go back to the dirt? Is that it? I can talk to Boss for you, if that's what you want."

"...No. That won't be necessary."

"That's what I thought. Now, where in Glob's name- Oh, Prismo! Buddy, there you are!"

Scarab didn't look up to acknowledge the Wishmaster's presence. He felt so tiny. Just like a gross little bug pinned to the wall.

"...What are you doing here, Orbo?"

That made Scarab look up. Prismo's tone. All the warmth had been sucked out of his voice. There was an edge to it. One that the beetle had never heard before, not even during the whole Fionna and Cake disaster.

"Aw, mate, can't I just come check on my good buddy? It's been ages since your last party, man. Us at the office are just itching to groove again. We'd love to see you!"

Prismo's expression was unreadable. Scarab wasn't used to not being able to read the Wishmaster, he was usually an open book. The blue eye shifted between Orbo and Scarab subtly.

"Just haven't been in the partying mood, Orbo. I've been having some friends over for board games, I guess, but I'm not planning on a party any time soon."

The star core seemed to catch Prismo's shifting glance, turning his attention back to Scarab. The beetle stood ramrod straight. Partially to not draw attention to himself and partially to prevent his body from shaking on uncertain legs.

"Oh. Prismo, buddy, why didn't you say anything sooner?" Orbo rolled back over to Scarab, smirking.

"Say what sooner?"

"That this dude was killing the vibe in here! I mean, I totally get it, I wouldn't want a party either if that was lurking in my place somewhere."

Prismo's expression hardened.

"Scarab's not 'killing the vibe' Orbo. He's been nice to have around, he plays board games with me, Cos, and Death."

Orbo rolled his eyes.

"Prismo, you're cool. You don't have to keep it quiet for his sake. Just say the word and I'll find something else to do with him. It's not the first time he failed to learn a lesson."

"I'm not keeping anything quiet. I like having him around. He's actually pretty cool when he's got the space outside of work, and you're being, like, really uncool, Orbo."

Scarab was stunned. He'd been the only one to ever really talk back to Orbo. He'd never expect someone to do it on his behalf.

"What? Me, uncool? Pris, c'mon, mate. You're allowed to say he's creepy, we all know it. He's a bug. You know, those little creepy crawlies? I thought I trained most of the creepy stuff out of him by now. I know you're everybody's buddy, but you really need to make sure the lesson stays in his head if you don't want him weirding you out. Like, I came in here and he was on the ceiling! Looked like a ghost or something. And without his mask! I thought I made it clear his face is a horror show. Thank Glob I got him to put it back on before you had to see it, bud. It's a real doozy, I'll tell ya."

The beetle wasn't looking at Orbo anymore. No, he was watching the growing horror on Prismo's face. Horror not directed at him for once.

"Dude, Scarab's not that bad. A bit uptight when he's stressed, but still a pretty cool dude. Why should he have to hide so much? This is the Time Room, you're supposed to relax in here."

"Oh, Prismo, you sweet dream child. Scarab's not cool. He's not like us, you know?"

"Like us?"

"Buddy, you're the dream of one of the greatest living wizards in the multiverse! I'm the core of a collapsed magic star! That's where gods like us are supposed to come from! Scarab though? He's just a bug. A creepy crawly cockroach that somehow made it up from the dirt he's meant for."

"Didn't he manage to take down a galactic level threat that you couldn't catch?"

"He got lucky." Orbo looked annoyed. That usually ended well for no one. "Knew I should've finished his punishment before he came here..."

"I thought this was his punishment."

"Oh, no, I'm talking about his punishment for trying to start a revolt. Went over my head to the Boss! All over that nonsense with that unauthorized universe of yours. I was gonna take his legs. Maybe should've pulled out his other arms as well. I still can, if you wanted me to, mate."

The silence in the Time Room was deafening. Scarab has seen a lot of expressions on the Wishmaster's face. Contentment, sadness, boredom, amusement, joy, frustration, all of it.

But he had never seen rage. Not until now, anyway.

"What?"

Orbo seemed to completely miss the change in atmosphere, as he carried on just as before. "Oh yeah, it seems to be the only way he actually learns. Thought the antenna would be enough, but nooo, Mr. Buggy Bigshot still thought himself better. I really thought the thing with the wings would've gotten through to him, but I guess not."

The lights in the Time Room went out. Not even the stars from the void outside shed much light into the cube. Scarab never thought he'd miss the sickeningly bright yellow of the Time Cube, but he's permanently paint his shell its color if it would turn the lights back on.

"You. Did. WHAT?"

There was a guttural hiss coming from where Prismo once was. Blue what replaced by a bright purplish pink, staring down at Orbo and Scarab. A friendly smile was replaced with jagged teeth. Fingers replaced with claws. And a growl rumbled through the cube.

Scarab didn't think. Just acted. He opened himself a passage into the lower levels of the Time Room, scurrying in as fast as his legs could carry him. He could faintly hear Orbo yelling after him, but he ignored it completely. The adrenaline let him ignore the pain, ignore the feeling of constantly tipping over. All his instincts told him was run and hide.

He crammed himself into one of his many makeshift burrows, backing as far into the hole as possible.

Prismo was angry, he knew that much. Anger meant pain. Anger meant he'd lose another piece of himself. What would it be this time, he wondered.

It didn't matter he knew Prismo would never hurt him. It didn't matter he knew he probably couldn't be hurt like that while in this form. All he knew was to curl up and hide.

And so he did.

He shook, in fear and pain, and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. But he didn't dare come out of his cubby.

So he waited.

He didn't know how long it was until he felt the familiar tingle of light against his back. He flinched, a frightened trill falling unwillingly from his throat.

"...Scarab? Sweetheart, are you there?"

...At least he sounded like Prismo again...

"...Yes... Yes, I'm here."

"Good, good. I... I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I don't like what I am when I'm like that but... What Orbo was saying... Your wings..."

Scarab felt his elytra twitch under Prismo's touch. The ragged scraps of wings shivered as well, as the beetle sighed out a soft little chirp.

"...It is the way of things, Prismo... Orbo is not the only one with thoughts like that. It's what I've been taught for eons. No one likes bugs, after all."

There was a long silence after that. Prismo was looking at him with a sad calmness. He reached his other arm into the hole, petting a hand over the parts of his face he could reach under the mask. The bug shivered pitifully into the touch, trying and failing to resist the urge to lean into it.

"...You deserve better, Scrabby."

That's what did it. That's what broke the dam.

Scarab wept into Prismo's hand, shaking hard enough to make his carapace rattle.

"Shh... It's okay, honey... Can you come out here?"

It was slow. Almost painfully so. But he managed to peek his head out of his hiding spot. The Wishmaster gave him a kind smile, if not a sad one.

"Can you let me see you, beautiful?"

Scarab hesitated. Orbo's words echoed in his head, loudly, cruelly.

"...I'm not pleasant to look at, Prismo... Much less beautiful..."

"Nope. Not true, Scrabby. C'mon. Let me see that pretty face of yours."

"Prismo..."

"Please, Scarab?"

The beetle sighed. His face plates shivered again, tucking behind his head. His eyes stared, wide and wet at the Wishmaster. A soft kiss was planted on his forehead.

"There we go. Much better."

Scarab refused to start bawling again. Instead, he climbed the rest of the way out of his burrow to curl against Prismo's chest.

"You don't have to worry about Orbo anymore, by the way. He won't be coming back. Not for a few eons, at least."

Scarab didn't choose to question it. Not right now at least. Instead, he closed his eyes as Prismo's hand pet gently over his aching back, the beetle unconsciously opening up the elytra. The dream's hands were always careful when working around his sorry wings. They made the ache go away.

Scarab began chirping. Softly, at first. But it slowly grew, morphing into a simple, but filling cricket song. He heard Prismo softly join in with a light humming.

He might've been just a bug.

But it turns out at least one person likes bugs after all.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

The War Council Analysis/Thoughts

So I need to talk more in depth about the war council scene in Dune Part 2 because that scene is just incredible and has many interesting details and layers to it. I said in a different post that what makes it so interesting is the scene has a different feel depending on which character's pov you look at it from. Each of the characters gathered there have different desires and motivations and each want Paul to be a specific thing/person/being and this scene is very much shown less through Paul and his motivations and more through the emotions of the other characters gathered there. The main characters it focuses on are Stilgar, Jessica, Gurney and Chani. So in this post I do want to talk about each of those characters and their emotions and wants throughout this scene. But first I want to talk about Paul himself and how he plays this moment because I think there are some really interesting details there.

Before Paul arrives at the council there is a relatively calm atmosphere, everyone is crouched down and are praying, its very much has the vibe of a church or other religious gathering. However the moment Paul shows up in the room the energy shifts. People start looking around at him and some start rising up to their feet to get a better look at him, there is a mumbling that spreads through the crowd. They know who he is and there is this sense of awe and excitement that he is finally here, that they can finally see him. When he reaches the circle one of tribe leaders catches his attention and addresses him as Mahdi showing that they do recognise him as the messiah. However despite this what is interesting is at this point they are still standing by their cultural beliefs and explain that if he wants to talk he has to take Stilgar's spot by killing him. Even though this is the messiah their culture is still currently taking precedence.

Paul however ignores this and refuses to follow their custom, instead shouting that he is pointing the way and marching to the middle of the circle. The energy in the room shifts again to one of anger, even Stilgar is shocked at Paul's statement. You can feel this anger flood through the crowd as they raise to their feet pulling out their crysknife's as Paul gives out this challenge, stating no one in the room could stand against him, in this moment Paul comes across as powerful and arrogant even, he's confident in his challenge. I always found this moment interesting because despite the fact that the people gathered there are the religious fanatics who have been waiting centuries for the messiah to come, the ones who believe that Paul is that messiah, they still react in anger to Paul disrespecting their ways. I see it as the fremen's last stand against an outsider's control and suppression, their last moment of defence for their ways and beliefs, its the final moment where they are still true to themselves. But its a battle they are about to lose.

One really interesting moment is after making this challenge he sets his eyes on one fremen in particular and then he lowers himself into a crouch. I found this to be an interesting move because you would think when he is surrounded by a very angry crowd of people who all have their weapons drawn you would want to make yourself seem as big and as powerful as possible, to stand tall and imposing. But Paul lowers himself, and the movement is eery and seems threatening despite it arguably being a more vulnerable position. I kept wondering to myself why this move unsettled me, why it seemed so threatening. Then I realised its because it reminded me of a predator, like a lion or tiger, lowering themselves into the grass getting ready to pounce on its victim. As he speaks to this one fremen he keeps his voice low, he moves towards him with slow, deliberate movements, again like a predator stalking towards it's prey. He tells the man the very thoughts he knows he is thinking and its no wonder its so unsettling to this stranger. Then Paul goes for the kill with one final word, Dune. The target falls to his knees, exclaiming Lisan al Gaib. Then Paul's energy explodes again, once again he is speaking in a loud, bold and powerful voice, as he turns to his next target, he rushes forward, formidable and commanding and that man falls under his power too, until the whole room is on their knees and under Paul's control. This moment is both terrifying and thrilling at the same time, you can't help but get swept up in it yourself and you can't tear your eyes away, I just love the shifts in Paul's demeanour, in the way he uses his voice, his very movements to win the fremen over, its truly terrifying.

When he puts the Ducal ring back on and announces that he is the voice from the outer world, that he will lead them to paradise, he fills his voice with passion, once again he is speaking in a powerful and loud voice, one that is filled with promise, one that stirs up the fremen's own passion and excitement. Again you can feel this energy just spread through the crowd and building into this crescendo where everyone is rushing to their feet and exalting Paul, they are now completely faithful to him, will do anything for him, even abandon their own way of life and the cultural practises that five minutes earlier they were prepared to fight for.

Stilgar

So lets talk about Stilgar next. Throughout the film it is made very clear that Stilgar is not only a true believer in the prophecy but that he believes that Paul is the Lisan al gaib. His religious beliefs are clearly very important to him. We often see him praying and talking about the prophecy and in the first half of the film it is played off for laughs, it all seems a bit silly and we often have other characters doubting him when he says Paul is the one and even mocking him for seeing these 'signs'. However when we get to this part of the film, his blind faith and obsession with the prophecy and Paul, becomes less funny and more horrifying to watch. At the start of the scene Stilgar is sat in his place within the circle as a leader of his tribe. Upon Paul's arrival Stilgar is more than willing to sacrifice his life so that Paul can take his spot. This is such a chilling moment because it shows just how lost to this prophecy Stilgar truly is, he is willingly to die so that he can give Paul a voice, because he believes that what Paul has to say is more important than his life. He even pulls his own crysknife out ready.

However as I said above Paul has no intention of taking Stilgar's life, stating that he won't deprive himself of the best of them right before a battle. Stilgar is very shocked when Paul defies their ways to speak anyway. Honestly it makes sense why he would be shocked if you think about his dynamic with Paul before this moment. Stilgar has played the role of Paul's teacher and guide, he tells him how to navigate the desert, he teaches him to ride a sandworm. He explains the ways of the Fremen and Paul has always listened and done as Stilgar has told him. So in this moment Stilgar is explaining to Paul, as he always has, the ways of the fremen, he must be a leader to speak, he must take Stilgar's spot, in this moment he thinks Paul will react the same way he has in the past, by paying attention to and following Stilgar's guidance. But Paul doesn't, he reverses their roles in this moment, now Paul is the one pointing the way and Stilgar must be the one to follow.

I mentioned above that each character had their own desires and motivations and each had an image of who they wanted Paul to be. For Stilgar he is very much motivated by the prophecy and he wants Paul to be the Lisan al Gaib, he's waited his whole life for the messiah to come. Throughout Paul's speech you can see Stilgar become more and more enraptured with Paul, he looks at him with a look of awe and reverence with each word he speaks. Until you have that moment when he asks Paul what he foresees for them and Paul answers a green paradise you can see the look of exhilaration cross his face as he sinks to his knees. Can you imagine being Stilgar in this moment, after dedicating your life to this religion, to this prophecy, after being mocked and ridiculed for this belief, you're messiah is finally here. From the moment they met in Dune part 1, Stilgar says he recognises Paul as the Lisan al Gaib, despite protests from even Paul himself, Stilgar persevered in his belief that Paul was the one and in this moment he is getting confirmation. For Stilgar this isn't just a moment of triumph, its a moment of validation and you can see how much that means to him.

Gurney

When it comes to Gurney it is made very clear right at the start of the scene what his desires and motivations are. When Chani tells him that this is none of his business he tells her that Rabban killed his family and left him scarred, so this was all his business. It's clear that what Gurney wants is revenge. Gurney is someone who was incredibly loyal and dedicated to the House Atreides, when he believed they were all massacred by the Harkonnens the only thing he had left was revenge, he even tells us when he's first reunited with Paul that he stayed on Arrakis with the sole purpose of getting that revenge.

When it comes to the prophecy, to Lisan al Gaib and this green paradise that the fremen believe Paul will lead them too, Gurney has no stakes in it, he doesn't care about it, it literally means nothing to him. What does mean something to him is House Atreides. When he believed they were all gone I think Gurney felt very lost, like he had no purpose anymore, his purpose was to serve and protect his duke and family and I think part of him felt like he failed in that. He has been filled with anger and revenge ever since. But learning that Paul was alive and reuniting with him gave Gurney something else, it gave him hope. Hope that House Atreides will be restored. Only he quickly realises that Paul has no interest in reviving the House Atreides, that he has built a life for himself with the fremen which is very frustrating for Gurney who I think was expecting Paul to want revenge and the restoration of the Atreides, like he does.

So the person Gurney wants Paul to be is the duke, you see this look of pure emotion in Gurney's eyes when Paul pulls out the Ducal ring. His lip trembles and he lets out this breathy laugh of relief, he looks like he is trying to hold back tears he is so overcome. I think for Gurney seeing Paul embrace his role as an Atreides, as the Duke of Arrakis, feels like he's getting his family and his purpose back. When the fremen raise to their feet and chant Lisan al Gaib, Gurney rises too, but he's not chanting, he raises his chin in triumph and looks at Paul with pride, because Gurney like Stilgar, is also getting everything he has hoped for, he's got his duke back, his chance at revenge back.

Jessica

Ok so what does Jessica want? Well that's easy, the same thing she wanted in part 1, for Paul to be the Kwisatz Haderach. What's interesting about Jessica's motivations is that they're kind of a combination of both Stilgar's and Gurney's desires but with a bit of her own mixed in. Like Stilgar she wants Paul to take on the role of Lisan al Gaib, to becomes this prophet and leader to the fremen fundamentalists. But like Gurney she also wants him to embrace his title of Duke and carry on his father's legacy as heir to House Atreides. Which is why you see her get this look of satisfaction on her face when Paul announces that he is Duke of Arakkis. I think this also plays into the fact that she defied the Bene Gesserit to have a boy because she wanted to give the Duke she loved an heir as well as wanting to be the one to bring forth the Kwisatz Haderach, so for her this is the moment she is seeing that act of rebellion pay off. Another aspect of her motivation is that she wants Paul to be safe, I think in her mind the only way to achieve that is by making him the most powerful being in the universe. I mean after all if Paul can see multiple futures and can foresee dangers before they come for him, if he has an army of millions of religious fanatics who will throw down their lives for him because they believe he is their messiah, if he holds titles and positions of power, then who could possibly ever stand against him. Jessica put alot of work, did a lot of plotting and scheming in order to reach this moment, to gain the support of the fremen to Paul's cause, to convince Paul himself to drink the water of life and become the Kwisatz Haderach, so for her this is the moment she sees all that work come to fruition, its a moment of triumph, its her pay off.

Chani

Poor Chani. For all the others this moment was one of validation or triumph, but for Chani it was the moment she lost everything. I think there is this underlying sadness to the scene because, as I said before, everyone has an idea of who Paul should be, prophet, duke, kwizatz haderach, but its all about who he can be for them. Chani was the only one who was fighting for Paul, for him to stay who he truly was, who he had chosen to be. She's the only left fighting for her people, for their culture and way of life, but being the only one still fighting means she doesn't have a chance, there are too many external forces acting against her.

From the very start of the scene Chani is being pushed and pulled about by others. She rushes to Stilgar and tries to talk sense into him, and not only does Stilgar ignore her, but the other leader tells her she cannot speak, the other fremen come to take her away from the circle. When she tries to speak up again, speaking to the crowd at large, Gurney intervenes pulling her to the ground next to him and telling her she'll get in trouble, cutting her off in the process. When the fremen get angry at Paul and she stands to go and intervene, Gurney stops her again, when everyone bows to Paul, again Gurney pulls her to her knees so that she too is bowing. All of this shows just how helpless she really is, she can scream and shout and fight but each time she is silenced.

As Paul declares himself the Lisan al Gaib you can see Chani's heart break, she shakes her head in disbelief because she cannot fathom why Paul is taking this course of action, after everything he promised her, after all the times he said he wasn't the prophet, that he didn't want power, or to lead her people, he's going back on all of it. She's watching the man she loves exert power and control over her people and she is powerless to stop it from happening, she feels helpless and confused and betrayed. When everyone jumps to their feet in celebration she stays on her knees, showing just how broken she is by Paul, how devastated but also how she refuses to see him as the mahdi, to celebrate and worship him like the rest of her people. I said in another post that this moment is a great contrast and compliment to the last scene where everyone bows and she stays on her feet out of defiance. But I think another interesting detail about this moment is that Chani is very much Paul's soul, his love, she represents who he is at heart, in this moment though not only is he cut off from her sight, but he won't be able to see her either. This crowd of worshippers becomes a literal and figurative barrier between them.

Anyway to wrap this up, I do think this moment is one of the best in the film, its just filled with so much tension and so many different dynamics between each of the characters. In some ways its a moment of triumph and victory for our characters but for other characters its a moment of heartbreak and betrayal. In the middle of it all you have Paul who has lost himself, he's no longer a person but a figure, something to worship and be in awe of. The last person who really sees him as Paul, the man, he loses in this moment and that just makes it a tragedy.

[neowinestainedress]

between us — jn.s (preview n visuals)

pairing: husband!johnny suh x wife!oc x fem!reader | professor!johnny x lawyer!oc summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore. genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30) warnings: in the full fic | READ HERE

THE CHARACTERS

the suhs

the reader

PREVIEW

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning while running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

if you want to be added to the taglist comment under this post! general taglist: @froggyforyoongi ; @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Knight!Ellie x Princess!Reader

Drabbles and imagines through a headcanon format

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

TLOU Masterlist

Ellie Williams dating playlist made by yours truly (Modern)

Enjoy this official playlist as a sneak peek of a fanfic I'm currently working on (This post was highly inspired by it)

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: Thinking about Knight!Ellie x Princess!Reader because I just love this trope so much. It's literally a fave of mine along with grumpy x sunshine ("I hate everyone but you") and enemies to lovers. This'll be constantly edited because it isn't proofread and more ideas will come to me soon.

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC?, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me.

Tiny sidenote: Implied chubby reader???

♡ Knight!Ellie who literally was just stuttering and speechless when she first saw and met you. Your parents kept you face hidden from the public, of course that being done maids who are not one of your personal maids gossip about how you are more likely to be ugly, must be why your parents kept you.

Of course rumours spread like wildfire in the castle and the maiden who said such things lost her job and Ellie being a new knight, she's heard of said rumors but she didn't care nonetheless because she was getting paid worth at least two chests filled with gold coins to protect you.

♡ Knight!Ellie who became attached to you because you're so beautiful, how could she not? Although there were downsides to this, Ellie realized that the first time your parents had you meet a suitor.

♡ Knight!Ellie who had to stand there and watch on the side as you danced with a suitor, his hands on your body in such a way that made you so uncomfortable. Ellie watched as your face contorted a bit wondering what kind of a daft oblivious idiot won't notice it.

She saw the way you squinted your eyes in pain everytime when the suitor hastily steps on your foot. The little whimper that came out of your mouth because of how much weight the suitor stepped on you with, he didn't even apologize, not after he did it every 3 minutes.

♡ Knight!Ellie who was incredibly livid, the fact that he didn't take you into consideration, so mad that she was clenching her fists that she swore it would bleed if she doesn't cut her finger nails regularly. (We all know why she does)

♡ Knight!Ellie who always pays attention even when you think she's not, whenever you sneak out into town even when she's surveillancing around for anything that might cause you danger she'd know when a puddle is there and would either lay her coat down so you can step on it and continue walking or carry you and put you down when you passed the puddle.

♡ Knight!Ellie who saw how you interacted with the town's folk despite how none of them knew who you truly are. How the kids adored you, giving you wild flowers they've picked. The kids noticed how you took one of those flowers and poked it through her hair in between her ear, the look Ellie gave you of pure love being overlooked by the oblivious darling that you are.

A little girl called her out on it saying that she doesn't blame Ellie, only a fool would be stupid enough not to love you. Said little girl was told by Ellie to keep the secret of the little crush and you turn back to both of them with a confused look as to what they're talking about but the little girl just giggles and Ellie shrugs and smiles innocently at you.

♡ Knight!Ellie who finds so many different ways to touch you and any excuse to do so. She'd help you up a carriage by holding your hand even though she knows you can get up by yourself. She'd have her hand on the small of your back, the other on your hand again whenever guiding you to a rocky or unstable platform.

♡ Knight!Ellie who faced a lot of criticism for being female and has been through a lot during her training because other knights treated her differently but now that she's with you, she think it's worth it and is most certainly cocky to her colleagues about it and shoving it into their mean faces.

♡ Knight!Ellie who would rather die than face her own blade towards you in any way possible, she'd even go as far as you beg you if you accidentally point her sword/dagger towards yourself asking you "Princess please, don't ever do that again".

♡ Knight!Ellie who pleasures you in the way others have failed, she makes you feel loved, protected and cared for. She never half-asses anything that has to do with you because no matter what, she knows you deserve only the best.

♡ Knight!Ellie who worships the ground you walk on, every single thing that you do makes her fall in love with you even more. She'd defend your honor as if her life depended on it.

♡ Knight!Ellie who is always at your beck and call, even if you don't even ask her to help you with anything. Something as simple as helping you dress and being able to kiss skin on your shoulder in which she revealed by moving your chamise and putting it back in place when she's done. Most definitely loves helping you with your clothing, so much so that she goes down on her knees just to help you slip on you shoes.

♡ Knight!Ellie who smokes but when you caught her, she promised you she would quit and she did. But relentlessly teased you saying you just wanted to keep her alive longer for yourself, not that it isn't true but you'd never tell her that right?

♡ Knight!Ellie noticing the little things about you, how strands of your hair make their way in front of your face and how you huff in annoyance because it disrupts you of whatever you are doing so you blow it back. She finds herself tucking the strand behind your ear for you.

♡ Knight!Ellie who loves it when you read to her, how you so comfortably ask a commoner like her to be in your bed chambers and to make her lay in your bed as you read to her.

Her heart beats faster, her breath hitches the moment you thank her for providing you protection, safety and care. The young knight butting in saying that you deserve nothing less, looking up at you with those beautiful sage green eyes of hers.

♡ Knight!Ellie caring more about your well being than her own, constantly forgetting to eat meals, losing sleep and not giving herself enough time to heal when injured so you just had to sit her down. You took care of her, fed her and changed her bandages when you was too stubborn to do so, to say that Ellie knew in that moment, she just couldn't help herself. That was the first time she kissed you.

♡ Knight!Ellie who can't get enough of your kisses, your soft lips hitting her chapped ones, giving it warmth and life. She pull you in, arms wrapped around your body and hands rested on you back. You cupped her face continuing to share your warmth with her. That cemented it for Ellie, she just had to have you no matter how guilty and selfish she felt about it.

♡ Knight!Ellie who lays awake at night dreaming what it would be like if she was able to express her love for you in public, let the world know that you belong to each other.

♡ Knight!Ellie who used to use sweet nicknames as a tease and now using it as a term of endearment putting the word "my" before each one whenever in the privacy of four walls.

♡ Knight!Ellie who makes anytime with you feel domestic, just makes her want to take you with her and run away to a small cottage near a field where you two could happily live the life of a married couple, maybe even adopt a child.

♡ Should I do Knight!Abby x Princess!Reader or Knight!Abby x Maiden!Reader next? Both? Honestly I need more Abby content. (Maiden = Commoner)

[unalloyed-thoughts]

Miquella and Saint Trina: Talking about sleep and duality in Elden Ring.

The lands between is filled with quaint and unique characters, from the giant skeletons to the wraith calling revenants, Many of these characters have little lore to go off of which makes them very compelling to players who can only wonder what their stories are. Out of all of this characters, St. Trina stands out to me, for being a character thats tied to one of the big names in the setting yet so little is known about them. In this post i hope to touch on what i think of this character and the themes that surrounds them.

St. Trina is probably the most enigmatic and intriguing part of Miquella's story line, Described as a misteryous figure that appears in people's dreams, little to nothing is known about them in the current version of the game. Indeed, Trina harbors quite a lot of cut content which we will tackle later. But anyway if one thing is clear about their character is the following: Miquella is St. Trina. The game doesnt explicitly tell you but it drops little hints to help you reach that conclusion throughout the game. the first and most obvious is the lilies, Miquella has lilies tied to his name, and so does st trina, both of this lilies look almost completely identical and its no mere coincidence.

Another connection is the fact that Trina lilies are included in the drop pool of cleanrot knights, warriors that served under Malenia, and by extension, Miquella. After all it makes sense, Trina lilies are an item that dulls the senses, helping you sleep, and Scarlet rot is described as giving its victim terrible nightmares. Yet another connection comes in the form of a Fevor cookbook, Fevor was an individual who was completely obsessed with trina, it is said that he sought her out through his dreams. This cookbook is given to you by gideon after locating Mohgwyn palace, the place Miquella is located, but not only that, This cookbook gives you the recipe to craft the bewitching branch, an item made by Miquella.

Finally, Trina's torch is located in snowfield, an area tied to Miquella. Also, the albinauric archers located there drop trina arrows as part of their loot pool.

So with all that said its pretty clear that Trina and Miquella are the same individual, but in what way? Duality and the capacity to represent multiple aspects is a common theme in elden ring, We see many characters that have some form of alter ego or some deep connection to another character. Empyreans in particular, as stated by miyazaki in one of his interviews, Have the capacity to embody multiple aspects, this is seen most vividly in Marika, who shares her body with Radagon.

So there is a precedent for two completely different characters sharing the same body. So its not strange to see that the most common theory regarding Trina and Miquella is that they are different characters that share a body, after all Miquella's parents are Marika and Radagon, people who share this duality, it would only make sense for the son to share that same atribute with his parents when when we know he is also another character, in the form of Trina, that plus the meaning behind Trina's name, meaning "Triple", additionally it can also mean "pure". So Trina could easily fit as a third character existing in the sphere of the cursed empyrean twins, being the female counterpart to Miquella, much like Radagon is the male counterpart to Marika

Yet i also want to open another possibility, one of Miquella being trina in the most literal way, as in, Trina is nothing more than an alter ego that Miquella used while moonlighting through the lands between in peoples dreams. We see many different characters adopt alter ego's to carry out some duty before being revealed to be someone else, the earliest example is how Ranni introduces herself as Renna until we meet her and she reveals that she is in fact the lunar princess Ranni. Another early example is how morgott disguises himself as Margit, assuming the guise of the fell omen to protect leyndell and slay countless heroes during the shattering.

So we can see that all these characters carry on the theme of adopting multiple personalities and alter ego's to achieve a certain objective, of course these two characters carry out a certain naming scheme that Trina doesnt share, Margit is alot closer to Morgott than Trina is to Miquella name-wise. Yet there is a character whose alter ego has a completely different name, this one being Maliketh.

The first time we encounter Maliketh its through his alter ego, Gurranq, the beast clergy man, who seems to command different individuals to hunt out deathroot and deliver it to him so he can consume it. It isnt until the very end of the game that we learn that Gurranq is in fact Maliketh the black blade, Marika's shadowbound beast. So again, we see someone using a different identity to work on achieving a certain objective. So i think that this could be the case with trina, merely being a second identity used by Miquella to seek out something in the world of dreams, be it aiding those in despair or hunting for secrets. Another piece of evidence that may favour Trina being simply an alter ego is St Trina's sword, which says the following:

St. Trina is an enigmatic figure. Some say she is a comely young girl, others are sure he is a boy. The only certainty is that their appearance was as sudden as their disappearance.

I feel like a lot of people gloss over the Sword description, but i think its pretty important, even tho Fevor's cookbook describes Trina as female, the sword throws us a curve ball and explains how there isnt even a consensous on what this mysterious figure's gender is, only that they are a child (Much like we allready know Miquella is an eternal child) and that they dissappeared rather suddenly much like Miquella has also vanished (this could have happened at multiple times: when miquella encased himself in the cocoon, when he got captured by mohg or when he went into the lands of shadow). Their gender being unknown makes sense, Miquella is a young child with long flowing hair, he is naturally androgynous, so when witnessing his figure in your slumber, it would make sense that you wouldnt be able to tell exactly what or who you are looking at. Also the hilt of the sword depicts trina themselves, a figure with long flowing hair and long robes, much like how Miquella is depicted in statues in the game.

Another thing to consider is what i was saying before about the dual nature empyreans posess, one defining feature about them is how they are at odds with the other aspect they represent: -Ranni is at odds with her empyrean flesh and the fate forced upon her -Malenia is at odds with her rot and battles it throughout her life -Marika is at odds with Radagon, who whishes to perpetuate the golden order while Marika whishes to shatter it. Miquella seems to be the exception to the norm as Trina's and his motivations seem to overlap, particularly in cut content, Trina was much more linked to bringing peace and slumber to those afflicted with frenzy (particularly the merchant's, who would tell you in their cut content, which has been documented and can be found on youtube, that the song they play was once sung to them by Trina) and as we know, the only thing that can supress the flame of frenzy if inherited by the player is Miquella's needle.

In general sleep is shown to be Frenzy's opposite yet at the same time they share something in common.

If frenzy is the violent expression of despair and wish to turn that into a destructive force to bring an end to the world so despair no longer exists, sleep is a way of escaping the despair of the world, avoiding it by hiding in the world of dreams, where there is only peace. Of course not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the world of dreams, as sleep is described as addictive and all ecompassing, compared to a quagmire, it traps you, making you wish you never woke up, after all why would you? its safe in the realm of slumber.

I think the fact that Dreambrew, a drink made by Rhico, a cut NPC, using gathered dream mist is an alcoholic beverage is particularly telling of this. Much like real alcohol, its addictive and it makes you feel good, to the point that you begin to rely on it.

Reeling Rhico is also a particularly interesting cut npc, this charismatic fellow presents himself as a priest of Trina, promising to prepare dreambrew for us if we gather dream mist for him using Trina's orb. This draft of Trina's story forcused more on followers of trina indulging in people's secrets through slumber, which fits Miquella's character, who is described as an intellectual sort, seeking out new knowledge at every turn. Rhico has some pretty neat lines, like this one: "Drink is a wonderful teacher. Imbibe and you will understand; this world's delights, and its futility." More of what i was talking about earlier, through drinking dreambrew and engaging in sleep people feel tired of the real world and seek the quietud of slumber. If we progress Rhico's questline it bring us in the end to Miquella's cocoon, where Rhico reveals that he has been in fact looking for Miquella all this time, and drops us his famous monologue:

"Finally, I have found it!

St. Trina's, no, Lord Miquella's cadaver.

I have partaken of untold secrets.

Such that I might aid you, O Lord.

So please, I hope you can welcome your humble servant Rhico,

Into your dream, the world of your heart.

Indeed, I beg you grant my wish

That when you transcend from empyrean to god, allow me a place by your side." What i find interesting here (besides the entire text, gosh i wish Rhico was still in the game) is how he first talks about Trina but then corrects himself and adresses his master as Miquella, thats who he truly served in the end. he has been indulging in secrets all this time, probably how he found out Trina was Miquella. Trina was just that, a simple alter ego, Miquella was just playing an act in the end. Of course ill say this is all cut content, and could be completely different from the finished product. I just thought it was worth mentioning. So anyway thats about it for now, kind of a messy post. These are just my thoughts and they could be proven wrong by the upcoming dlc. We know that there are gonna be new sleep spells and the trailer showed a very clearly trina coded area with new trina lilies and even a boss of its own, so we are getting some definitive answers and im really looking forward to them!

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 4)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 13.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, brief mention of suicide, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok this one...took a while. And after 3 rewrites and me coming to a 3 am epiphany that I'm a better writer than I give myself credit for, here we are. Shout out to @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @br0ck-eddie @big-ope-vibes and I'm sure a lot of other people for getting me through this. My computer is currently running like a potato and doesn't want me to add more to this text post.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"What do you guys think he's doing?"

"He seems pretty focused. New lyrics?"

"Nah, he has to be planning something really messed up for Friday's session."

"Or, instead of lurking around and gossiping like old biddies," Steve raised his voice to add to the commentary. He glanced up from his notebook and passed an expectant look at the rest of Corroded Coffin as they hovered a few feet away, lunches in hand, hesitant to join him at the lunch table. "You could just ask. Now are you guys gonna just stand there looking like nerf herders or are you gonna sit?"

The boys immediately jumped and shuffled to the table to take their seats.

"Uh, so...Eddie," Jeff began hesitantly as worked on the latch of his lunchbox. "What, uh, are you writing?"

"Miller wants an essay about the Constitution," Steve explained and scratched his forehead with the worn-down eraser of his pencil.

"Oh shit, and it's due today?" Dave went wide-eyed.

"Nah, not til next week," Steve shrugged, and then looked up to see the dumbstruck expressions on Eddie's friends' faces. "What?"

"You're...doing homework that's due next week?" Gareth laughed. "Who are you and what've you done with Eddie?" The other boys chuckled and Steve couldn't help but crack a secret smile.

If they only knew.

It was another hour, another day, another week in the body of Eddie Munson.

For the most part it had been bearable, and Steve wondered if it was actually getting easier or he was just getting used to it. He really hadn't realized how many plates Eddie kept spinning though, and when he initially questioned how Eddie continued to fail senior year...well he quickly changed his tune.

On top of the Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin gigs and practices, and the endless parties that he seemed to be invited to deal at, he seemed to take care of everyone.

He made sure the kids and the guys were all protected from bullies, which meant Steve had to perpetuate the whole Satanic facade--he was getting pretty good at the devil horns and tongue. The money he made dealing immediately got split between various stashes around the trailer, then his and Wayne's wallets, which made Steve extremely guilty about the allowance his mother bribed him with gave him. And if that wasn't enough, Eddie was the one who shopped and made meals for Wayne and, surprisingly, Reefer Rick.

Steve had only seen Rick a handful of times over the years before Eddie had taken over as the designated dealer at all the high school and college parties. More recently, Rick would only make a trip into Hawkins to stop by the VFW and then swing by Family Video. He never questioned why...and he almost felt ashamed that he never did before now.

He got too hung up on rumors and jokes. About Rick. And about Eddie.

Steve had promised to play the part though, and he did...but it was really starting to wear him out.

Still...Steve figured that he would make the slightest bit of an effort on Eddie's school work. For all the glory days of high school that Steve had...he was getting pretty sick of Hawkins High. At the very least, he could help Eddie get out of here. And at the most, if he was stuck in Eddie's body forever...well, he didn't want to be a 50-year old high school senior.

Jeff and the guys had mocked Eddie's speech about flipping Higgins off during graduation...and damn if Steve wasn't going to make that happen, come hell or high water.

The younger boys finally took their seats at the table, Dustin practically bursting with frantic energy, as usual, and Mike extra glum.

"What's got you down Wheeler?" Steve asked, throwing a pretzel at Mike's head. "I know it's only Monday but..."

"Someone's keeping my birthday present a secret," Mike groused and Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Here we go. He's been complaining about it all day," he explained. "Lucas and I literally can't have a minute alone to discuss it."

"You know I hate secrets."

"And he tried to bribe Will."

The two of them squabbled back and forth and Steve grinned fondly.

He might've loathed the homework but he was glad he got to see the kids more. More still, he was...almost grateful that Eddie had been there to guide them through the minefield of the first few months of freshman year, since he couldn't.

"Alright, that's it. Shut up!" Steve finally shouted. "You're just gonna have to have a little patience, Wheeler. Just cuz your mommy still says you're special, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna let you walk all over them."

The guys all snickered and made quiet jabs and kissy noises at him, calling him Mama's Boy and the like, as Mike turned red.

"Shut up I don't--hey, how did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes. Steve's eyebrows jumped in challenge and Mike backed down with a sigh. "Whatever. Fuck you guys...anyway, Eddie, my sister wants to talk to you," he announced in a bored tone.

Now that piqued Steve's interest; he sat up straight and glanced around the cafeteria for her.

As though he didn't know exactly where she and Jonathan Byers sat.

He felt his heart speed up when he met her eyes and she waved him over.

Steve had done his best over the last year-and-a-half to get over Nancy. He'd gone to prom solo, asked new girls out left and right...shit he'd even tried to get her back once or twice. Or at least get her to dump Jonathan. He wasn't entirely proud of it but...Robin had really been the one to set him straight.

He'd faced a lot of bitter realizations but he thought he'd been through the thick of it. Seeing Nancy in passing now and again at school though...well it wasn't doing anything to help that.

And now Nancy wanted to talk to Eddie? Why? They didn't have any classes together--she had practically all Advanced Placement classes and Eddie obviously didn't. Aside from his association with Mike, Nancy steered clear of Eddie.

As Steve got to his feet--ignoring Dustin's cry of "hey can you meet me in the library after school"--a laughable thought struck Steve.

First you had confessed your crush on Eddie. What if Nancy was next in line?

He faltered in his step as he made his way across the cafeteria.

Maybe it wasn't so laughable after all.

Since you had made that little confession to "Eddie," Steve had gotten half-the-idea in his head that...well Eddie wasn't that bad of a guy, what if he could find Eddie a girlfriend or something? He'd tried to ask out a few of the cheerleaders who had approached him about dealing at a party but was promptly laughed at.

And he wasn't gonna even bring up that one girl who was lingering in the theater department last Friday after school, as he went to set up for Hellfire with the kids. He was lucky she didn't just die of fright as he said hi.

What if the answer was Nancy all along?

It almost made him feel a little sick.

Except...

She liked...weird guys like Jonathan...and Eddie was certainly a weird kind of guy. And one of the things Nancy had liked about Steve had been his cool personality. Sure Eddie was sort of a loser...but she was popular now thanks to Steve...what if she liked the cool, bad boy and was getting bored of Jonathan.

As he continued on his journey he mentally calculated the distance between Will and Nancy. Their table was pretty packed--filled with their friends from Newspaper--and there was more distance between them than there had been between him and Nancy right before they broke up.

"Hey, uh, Byers, Wheeler," he greeted awkwardly and crossed his arms over his chest and devoted his attention to Nancy. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah can we..." she got to her feet and motioned toward the door.

Steve's heart pounded in his ears as he followed.

"Listen, Miss O'Donnell was a little worried about your grade and she asked if I could maybe...tutor you," Nancy explained, then paused pensively. "Actually, I asked her for a letter of recommendation for one of my applications and she said she would if I tutored you ahead of the midterm. Sorry. I-I do think she's really concerned about your progress though."

"I think the more accurate statement is that she doesn't wanna see my ugly mug in her class again next year," he joked and she gave him a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile.

"I didn't want to agree if you weren't open to it," Nancy sighed. "But I really need that letter. You'd...you'd really be my hero if you did this."

Steve stared at her for a moment, his thoughts racing at all the possibilities.

It didn't really sound like she was tempted to leave Jonathan in the first place but...that didn't mean he couldn't turn on the old Harrington charm. She had fallen for it once...maybe she enjoyed the charm just in a different package. And yeah, he had you waiting for him if he ever made it back to his body. But...if he didn't...

"Listen, I want out of here as much as the next person," Steve finally replied. "So, uh, I'm game if you are."

"Great!" Nancy placed a hand on his shoulder excitedly and Steve could practically feel the warmth of it despite the layers of denim and leather. "Uh...I have some free time after school today?"

Steve vaguely remembered Dustin wanting to meet him...he was sure it had something to do with the spell and he certainly didn't want Nancy to find out about that.

"I, uh, have a Hellfire thing," he lied. "How about Wednesday? I always study better with a few snacks. We can meet at Benny's? 5 o'clock?"

Nancy nodded and confirmed the time and place. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, then went back into the cafeteria.

It took a second, but Steve suddenly felt like all the wind was knocked out of him.

"Eddie" had a study date with Nancy on Wednesday.

He had a date with Nancy.

Eddie was halfway through his shift before anything exciting happened.

Sorry, halfway through Steve's shift.

He really wasn't trying to be bitter but...

Eddie had spiraled for a few days after the unfortunate mishap while he was trying to...relieve himself. Sure, it started with "Steve's" relationship with you, but it was almost like Pandora's box; once the box was opened, everything flooded out. He couldn't sleep without thinking of it, and every waking moment, he was consumed by the blaring differences in their lives.

He wasn't himself and it was driving him crazy. Making him sick.

The smell of the laundry detergent Mary Harrington used, the taste of the tap water in their hose, the softness of Steve's bed.

He'd tried to get comfortable in someone else's skin but the truth was that he wasn't going to fit in it, even if he wanted to.

However, in order to get back to his own life, he needed to keep playing the part of King Steve Harrington, keep stuffing himself into a place that didn't fit. Ignore the stifling tightness, the bulges, and the stretching at the seams of his very being.

That didn't mean he had to give up everything that made him Eddie.

He'd had a day off last Tuesday, and he'd just...spent it trying to reconnect with himself.

He'd stopped by Rick's for weed--and also to check on him, even though Rick wouldn't realize he was Eddie--drove up to Fort Wayne to get high and walk through the conservatory, buy some concert tees at the second hand shop.

By the time he arrived at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin's gig, he felt almost whole. And then he had one of the best performances of his life.

Only to realize that he couldn’t fully enjoy it.

Which led him to skip out on Benny’s with the guys after the set, because as much as he wanted to see you, he knew he couldn’t stand to witness the way you would be indifferent to “Eddie” only to dote on “Steve.”

This was so fucked up. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

It was as he had that very thought that his beloved van pulled up right outside the store and “Eddie” and the kids piled out, looking frantic and excited.

Dustin caught Eddie’s attention and quickly waved to get him to come outside.

“I thought you were the babysitter Harrington,” Keith sniffed judgmentally from the front of the shop where he was stocking a display. “What’s Munson doing here with your kids?”

“He got custody in the divorce,” Eddie snarled and vaulted over the counter. “I’m taking my lunch.”

“Wh-hey?!” Keith stuttered as Eddie strutted out the door purposefully. “You forgot to clock out!”

Steve and the kids were all talking over one another excitedly by the time he reached the group.

“They wouldn’t tell me shit until we got here,” Steve grinned. “But apparently they figured out how to fix this.”

“What?!” Eddie’s eyes went wide, the prospect of being back in his own body too monumental to not be excited. “That’s great!”

“We’ve translated the passage!” Dustin announced.

“We?” Lucas asked skeptically.

“Lucas translated the passage,” Dustin amended.

Before Eddie knew it, he and Steve were sitting in the back of the van as Dustin, Lucas, and Will went back and forth over their findings.

He felt like he was in an episode of Columbo for a minute. The kids being detectives who solved a great mystery and were reliving their investigation step-by-step. Lucas did most of the Latin translation, but part of it fell on Will’s shoulders. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Latin they learned in class but some obscure dialect.

“Which, uh, I coincidentally have a book about because I have actually been coming up with that one-off campaign for Mike’s birthday,” Will confessed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he turned red. The other boys whooped and patted him on the back and Eddie couldn’t help but feel proud of him too.

Eddie always said these kids were the future of Hellfire, but truly he couldn't see them having a better DM than Will Byers.

"Anyway," Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "This is what we ended up with." He pulled a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from its place within his backpack and handed it to Eddie.

The page was covered in crossed out words and different scribbles in each of the boys' incredibly distinct handwriting.

"Jeez, you couldn't have at least rewritten it on a fresh piece of paper?" Steve asked critically. Dustin simply rolled his eyes and grumbled something along the lines of "next time you're cursed, you're on your own" as Eddie and Steve leaned together to read the translation.

A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another's eyes. If what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.

Eddie felt his throat tighten as the guilt washed over him.

Sure, he had accepted that the fault lay entirely with him--he already vowed not to use any occult books for future campaigns again--but seeing it there on paper just solidified it.

A prize reflected in another's eyes. You. But you weren't some prize to be won. Sure he...he wanted you to be his but you weren't some object. And to think of you that way...well...he knew enough about magic to know that it didn't happen by accident. He had to believe that you were a prize, at least a little bit, to make something like this happen.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.

This wasn't what he wanted at all.

"Alright, so what does it mean?" Steve questioned.

"It means you two are jealous of each other," Lucas explained.

Both Steve and Eddie stiffened.

"What?" they exclaimed in tandem. They looked at each other and Eddie laughed while Steve simply looked horrified.

"What do you mean, jealous of each other?" Eddie scoffed.

"Oh, come on Munson," Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're jealous of me, this entire predicament we're in is because of you and because--."

"No, no," Eddie held out a hand to stop him from continuing. "Shut up. I'm jealous, alright? Jealous that you seem to get everything handed to you. Anything you want? It's yours. Is that what you wanna hear Stevie?

"But," Eddie paused and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you jealous of me?"

"W-what?" Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm not--"

"Why did you say that Sinclair?" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at Lucas. "Why did you say that we were jealous of each other?"

"Uhhh..." Lucas squirmed a little under the intense scrutiny of the older boys. "W-well...it's about the way the sentences were structured. I'm not...I'm not an expert or anything but it's referring to you in plural. If what you, vōs, seek is what you lack. Not you, tu."

Eddie then turned back to Steve and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?" Eddie asked expectantly.

Steve was still for a moment before he began fidgeting. He fumbled over his words--a bunch of well-you-sees and you-don't-understands--as he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Eddie watched, almost sympathetically knowing how hard it was for him getting used to Steve's unfamiliar body, as Steve faltered with his longer mane.

"It's...I...it doesn't matter!" Steve finally shouted. He jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips; he began pacing back and forth, one arm occasionally flailing as he gesticulated. "It doesn't matter why I'm jealous of Eddie? So what? We need to figure out how we can fix this.

"Selfless love? For what? For each other?" Steve blew a raspberry childishly. "Fat fucking chance. There has to be another way. I don't care what we need to do. I just want to change back."

"Change back from what?" a light, raspy voice sounded from over their shoulders.

The entire group stiffened and turned toward the voice and, lo and behold, there stood Robin. Shuffling her feet back and forth restlessly, frozen in place as she tugged her family video vest from her backpack. The moment everyone's eyes were on her, she grinned bashfully and waved at them all.

"Well, shit," Steve cursed in the most Eddie-like fashion.

If it had been up to Steve, Robin would never have found out about the whole...switching bodies...curse...spell...thing...

But when did something he wanted ever be taken into account by the universe, huh?

As soon as the group had realized Robin was there, all of the deflection and anger drained from Steve's body. He felt guilty for another one of his friends getting dragged into this mess. Because as much as he was happy to let Eddie take the fall, the fact of the matter was that Steve was just as jealous of Eddie.

As much as Eddie had admitted to being of him.

Steve had wanted to give her an explanation right then and there, and he would have if Keith hadn't chosen that moment to be his usual effervescent self.

"I'm closing the arcade tonight," he opened the door and glared across the parking lot at "Steve" and Robin. "So you need to clock in Buckley, and if your friends are still here by the time I take my break later, your hours are getting cut."

If there was one thing Steve had to choose that he didn't miss about his own life, it would be his boss.

So Steve brought the kids home and then returned to the Family Video parking lot to endure panic-inducing silence as he waited for Eddie and Robin to close the store. He could have listened to one of Eddie's endless tapes or smoked--Eddie's body was constantly craving one thing or another: cigarettes, sugary or salty snacks--to kill the time. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was a literal out-of-body experience. He watched himself and Robin talk and laugh as they went back and forth, helping customers and cleaning up once the store was empty. He knew his friend, knew that she was stronger and smarter than other people gave her credit for.

But this? This made him feel dizzy sometimes if he thought about it too hard.

He hoped they wouldn't get too far, so he could at least...have a decent conversation with her for the first time in a few weeks. Short of seeing her in passing at school...well...he hadn't gone this long without talking to Robin since they became friends.

And he really needed his best friend right now.

Eventually the lights in the businesses of the strip mall began to click off, one by one, and Steve practically held his breath until Family Video's lights finally shut and Eddie and Robin exited the building.

Eddie slapped a hand on Robin's shoulder and said something that made her roll her eyes before he got into Steve's car and drove away.

Robin made a beeline for the van and silently hopped into the passenger's side. Steve's hands--Eddie's hands--gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that he could feel the rings cutting into the creases of his fingers.

The atmosphere in the van was heavy as he sat under Robin’s scrutinizing gaze.

"I knew something was up," Robin finally announced as she slammed the door closed. Steve looked at her as though she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean ‘you knew?’” Steve asked incredulously.

She sighed and began counting on her fingers.

“You’ve been a real grouch when you’ve picked me up from class lately and I know you’re a morning person. Which sucks, by the way. You asked if I wanted to skip home room and get McDonald’s breakfast with you, you hate McMuffins—”

She went on and on, and Steve melted. Yeah, he could admit they had their squabbles and they didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, no one really understood them like they did each other.

And it felt really good to be understood as Steve Harrington right now.

"--and then you're always complaining when your mom doesn't cut the crusts off your sandwiches and lately you've just been eating them. Also I mentioned something about Vickie the other day and you just ignored it, so I figured that you were just annoyed with me."

She heaved a little bit at the end, having said the last bit in one go without stopping for air. Steve reached across the console and flicked her ear, causing her to slap at his hand.

"Ow, butthead! What was that for?" she exclaimed.

"Are you fucking kidding me Rob?" Steve burst out laughing and Robin chuckled along with him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How was I supposed to know you switched bodies?" she slouched into her seat. "Here I was thinking that you just didn't wanna be friends with me anymore. Which, you have to admit, is a more likely explanation."

Steve was about to protest but he stopped mid-word and frowned.

"You know what? You're right."

"I know," she grinned smugly. "Now what have you been up to and how much help do you need with this whole 'switching back' thing? Because Eddie isn't that great at being Steve, which means you must really suck at being Eddie."

They went back and forth as Steve put the van into drive and regaled Robin with stories and mishaps in the short time he'd spent as Eddie Munson, and she laughed at his stupidity.

After he left Family Video, Eddie found himself driving aimlessly through the streets of Hawkins. He thought a weight would have lifted off his shoulders after he explained everything to Robin, but everything was...almost a little worse now.

She'd had questions, like any normal person would. Actually, a normal person would have just had them committed. Robin was special though; her own brand of freak. And she was quick to adapt.

Eventually though...the topic turned to you.

When was Eddie gonna tell you what happened? Did you already know? You deserved to know before you fell too hard for Steve; otherwise, you'd be heartbroken if you ever found out that he was actually Eddie.

Of course, that only fed into all of Eddie's insecurities and self-hatred. All of the doubts he had spent days trying to stuff into the furthest corner of his mind returned with a vengeance.

You wouldn't feel the same thing about him if he was actually Eddie Munson.

Robin didn't know exactly what her words had done to him; she was fully oblivious to his real feelings for you. So he'd done his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and resolved to treat himself to a drive around with the windows rolled down and headband to Metallica as he smoked.

But then Robin opened her big mouth as they locked up for the night and it sent him into another spiral.

"You know...with a little more time, I would have probably figured it out," she chuckled. "You're not as good at being Steve as you think."

At first he wondered if that meant you might figure it out with a little more time. You were sharp, especially when it came to other people; what if one day he did something so inexplicably Eddie that you simply refused to believe he was Steve anymore. Sure, you probably wouldn't be able to guess that he actually was Eddie but...he wouldn't be the Steve you liked anymore.

If he did tell you the truth, would you break up with him? Would you hate him? He'd gotten close many times...but it was just so...ridiculous.

But then Eddie realized that he had been banking on the fact that he was doing all sorts of lovely things with you, had such a deep connection with you--he thought so, at least--and that Steve himself could never live up to it if they switched back.

What if he had you wrong all along? And it wasn't the deep connection that you both built? But just...the fact that he was Steve? You really hadn't had many .boyfriends during school, when you hung around with Mickey's sister. Or any, actually. What if you had a crush on Steve all that time and now...

Eddie felt sick.

Sicker than he was the other night. Sicker than he felt after a bad high. All he wanted was to go back home; not the empty Harrington house, but home. Back to the trailer and his stupid bed and to Wayne, who would give him a stiff hug once he saw Eddie was feeling so down.

But he couldn't.

So he went to the place that felt the next closest to home as he could get right now.

To Benny's.

Benny's had always felt like home to him. When his mom was still alive, waiting tables. She'd pick him up from school and sometimes bring him to work with her. He'd sit at a table in the very, very corner scribbling in his notebook or reading; she'd always scold him to do his homework but Benny would bring him a milkshake and tell Eddie that if he never finished school Eddie didn't need to either.

And to you.

You'd become more home than he ever realized before. Faced with the thought of losing you, he knew he would get over the pain if he absolutely had to. He could move on. But something would always be missing. If none of this had ever happened, the home that you were to him would have stayed cherry pie slices on Tuesday nights and the scribbles in his old notebooks.

But now he knew the taste of your kiss and the weight of your hand in his. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to know.

Eddie didn't hesitate as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was out of the car and headed into the diner as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.

It was almost closing time, so the diner was pretty quiet save for a family finishing up a late supper and Chief Hopper who sat at the counter with a slice of apple pie, chatting with Benny through the serving hatch. You were hunched at a table--the very same table his mom would sit him at--rolling silverware; your eyes darted around the diner every so often to make sure your customers were taken care of, and they immediately sparkled when they landed on him.

The motivation he had to make it into the diner was immediately replaced by those stupid nerves.

"Hey honey," Eddie greeted nervously once you crossed the diner and stood before him. The courage momentarily gone, especially as you made it to the door to greet him. "Uh...table for one?"

"We're about to close," you frowned and glanced over your shoulder. "Uh, but I can ask Benny if--"

"Wait, no," Eddie stopped you before you could go anywhere. "I was just kidding. I really wanted...to see you. I missed you."

"Oh! I missed you too," you grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed. "It looks like you came here straight from work. Everything ok Steve?

His ears started ringing; there it was again.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

The name he had gotten so used to and so sick of. The person he had gotten so sick of being.

"What do you like about me?" he sought suddenly, desperately. "Like...really, why did you agree to go out with me when you could have...dated any other guy?"

Your eyes went wide and you began squirming nervously. He couldn't quite place it but there was something there...something that made him even more nervous.

"Uh, hey Ben, can I take a quick 5?" you asked over your shoulder and Benny poked his head through the window. He narrowed his eyes at "Steve" momentarily but nodded.

"No funny business kid," Benny warned. "She's the best I've got."

You pulled Eddie out the door and to the side of the building, where you took your breaks. Where he had danced with you last week.

"So?" he began impatiently. "Why do you like me?"

"Where is this coming from?" you questioned quickly. "Did...I don't know...did Eddie say something to you?"

"Eddie?" Had you...told him something? Something that would upset "Steve?" What would you tell him? And why hadn't Steve mentioned anything about you talking to him.

Eddie tried to rationalize it. You saw him as a friend, and Steve knew you thought Eddie was a friend. Steve still saw you as his own girlfriend. Maybe you were trying to...Maybe you...Maybe he...

Fuck it was really confusing if he really thought about it. He just needed a straight fucking answer. Otherwise he was gonna go crazy.

"No," Eddie shook his head. He would have to go out on a limb here. "No Eddie didn't say anything but I...I don't know. We've been going out for a little while I guess...even when I first asked you out, I never asked why you said yes. And I just...don't know why you would even want to go out with me."

Your eyes got sad, and took a breath, almost relieved, as your fidgeting stopped.

"I mean, I guess...I've had crushes and stuff before," you began.

Crushes? Oh god, what if you were about to confess you had a crush on Steve. Steve...well he understood, Steve was handsome...not his type...it would hurt but he understood.

"N-no one ever...ever really wanted to ask me out for more than...than a party or something," you chuckled. "I mean they did but...high school right? Everyone kind of sucked. You kinda sucked too Steve.

"And I really wasn't...ok it's funny because I was actually planning to break things off with you." You chuckled and Eddie perked up a little. "You were kind of...self centered, and you...you kept...I don't know. I know you had that breakup with Nancy, so I didn't want to be mean, but you just kept bringing her up!

"But then you...you really surprised me. I told you...you're not...not anything I expected. You don't even seem like you were when you first asked me out. You're...caring and you listen. You're funny, and you like classic horror movies? And then you--"

You went on and on, eyes getting brighter with each word. Eddie felt lighter. Everything you said that you liked about him, well they were all about Eddie. Not Steve.

He was...he was getting in his head for nothing. That's all it was. It was just...nerves and...and...he had nothing to worry about. He could have you, when all was said and done. Hell, he could probably tell you right now once you were finished; tell you the truth about the spell, tell you that he was Eddie, tell you that he...liked you and that you were the thing that kept him going all this time.

You'd probably be...confused. But you knew him. You knew Eddie. It would all make sense in the end. And hopefully, you wouldn't turn him away.

In that moment, however, seeing that pride and confidence take over you as you listed all the reasons you liked him--the way you were so sure of your feelings--made Eddie's own confidence falter. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that telling the truth felt freeing. To you, you were just confessing how much you liked "Steve," and while all of the things you just said made him...so incredibly happy...he couldn't help but wonder...

What if you were angry that he kept this secret from you? What if you...hated him for lying?

Robin said it herself, you deserved to know the truth, before you fell too hard. He should have told you immediately. He shouldn't have acted in his own interest. You were...you deserved so much better.

The doubt you just helped brush away began festering inside of him again.

You deserved to know the truth, but he couldn't hurt you more now. And as much as he wanted you to...to love him, to love Eddie Munson he knew that you would feel too betrayed to ever trust him again if he told you.

"--and it kind of helps that you're really cute too." You finally finished with the brightest, most tender smile he ever saw. "Sorry I guess that's just the long winded way of me saying...I really like you Steve."

And as Eddie ignored the twist in his gut at Steve's name--as he kissed you--he decided that he simply couldn't tell you the truth. Ever.

Eddie felt bad just leaving after he barged into Benny's like that, and to be completely honest, even though the guilt was eating at him he didn't want to leave your side. He convinced you to go out with him for a late night snack and then he followed you home where he gave you another sweet kiss on your front porch.

"You're spoiling me," you giggled as you fiddled with your keys.

"You deserve a lot more than I can give you, Honey," he told you truthfully. "So much better than someone like me."

"Impossible."

It was close to midnight when he pulled into the Harrington's driveway, and Eddie cursed when he noticed the two expensive cars parked beside each other and the lights on in the house.

He hadn't had the misfortune of encountering both of Steve's parents at the same time yet. His dad was usually at work and mom usually just...gone, so the few times he did see them...they were just on their own and he could dodge any questions or conversations.

"Whatever you do, just don't talk to them," Steve had told him. And Eddie had kept up that end of the deal so far. He couldn't be so sure now. He would just have to try his best to get up the stairs and into bed before they noticed their "son" was home.

Eddie turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, entered the house and closed the door behind him without more than a click. He avoided dropping his keys in the little dish on the table in the hall--

There was chatter coming from the living room, quiet laughter. That was odd. From what Steve made it sound like, his parents always fought.

--but he couldn't avoid running into the table itself. The table wobbled and the other keys in the dish clattered and caused a commotion. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Steven?" Mary's voice sounded frantic and alarmed.

Shit.

"Yeah mom, it's me." Eddie winced and tried to steady the table.

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, it's already so late." She was immediately in the hall, eyes darting around, arms crossed over her chest. Her makeup was smeared and hair disheveled. Even her clothes looked in disarray.

Gross. Eddie didn't want to think about the Harringtons fucking on the couch he took a nap on the other day.

"Worked late," Eddie answered dismissively, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. "Just like dad does."

Eddie tried to take a step around her--if they knew he was home, he might as well grab some water or a pop before he went up to bed. Maybe a beer if he had to think of Steve's parents like that. Mary immediately stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

"I was worried," she stated blankly, eyes dead on him now.

"Clearly not, if you thought I wasn't coming home," Eddie snarked, annoyed now that she was making this difficult for him. Here was the bitchy PTA mom Mary Harrington he knew and loved. "I just want to get a snack and go to bed."

"It's late, just go to bed Steven."

"No, I--"

"Now is that really any way to talk to your mother?" a deep voice sounded from behind Mary.

Eddie rolled his eyes, now ready for a fight with Big Papa Harrington--

The thing about the Harringtons was that they looked like something out of a Sears Catalog. Tom was tall with salt-and-pepper hair that coiffed perfectly on his head, bright blue eyes, and a firm, trustworthy voice that always meant business. Mary was a petite brunette with warm hazel eyes, impeccable taste in clothing, and a sweet voice that went shrill when she was upset. And Steve was a good mix of the two; the perfect poster boy for their coveted suburban life.

--only to freeze in surprise when an older man with blond hair stepped out of the living room. His necktie was in his hand, lipstick was smeared across his mouth, and he was shrugging on his suit jacket. The flag pin on his lapel glinted in the hall light, like the unspoken warning in his eyes.

Eddie's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

Steve asked him not to talk to either of his parents very much, to keep their interactions with him short. How he got bitter at even the mention of his parents. The lunches, the calendar, the laundry. The allowance money that she gave him, even though practically everyone knew Steve had been cut off from his dad's wallet. Eddie thought that the allowance money was the secret they were keeping from Tom.

"You can't be mad at me forever, Steve," she had told him the other day.

"It's good to see you again, Steven," he smiled his election-winning smile and put a protective hand on Mary's shoulder. "We were just discussing how the historical society is contributing to the--"

"Larry was just leaving," Mary announced and glared up at Mayor Kline. The Mayor nodded and patted his hand on her shoulder once again before he slunk between them and out the door, Eddie's eyes following him until he was gone.

For all the gruff manner about him, Eddie's uncle Wayne was a bit of a gossip monger. Always had been. He got most of his gossip from the ladies around the trailer park that would offer a cup of coffee in exchange for some handyman repair work that they couldn't do themselves. So Eddie had become quite adept in Hawkins gossip. Rumor around town was that Tom was the one cheating. It was why Mary had the nicest car and the most expensive jewelry. It was why she went on all of his business trips and was treated to lavish weekend getaways.

No one expected that...

"You're cheating on dad," Eddie practically spat at Mary. She heaved a heavy, tired sigh and rolled her eyes a little bit.

"Yes Steven," she agreed. "We've been through this all before. I'm ruining the family, your father is going to be heartbroken, but I don't think I see him here." She waved her arms out and looked around.

"It's past midnight and he's still at the office crunching the numbers," Mary continued. "There are things you just don't understand and you won't until you're grown up and married. But seeing how late you're coming home. Working late. Just like dad.

"So I don't want to hear it from you. I already made you a deal. You got your allowance back. I get to keep my secrets."

She waved her hands dismissively then turned back into the living room, leaving Eddie behind in the hall to process the entire conversation.

He went through the motions as he trudged up the stairs and got ready for bed. As he went to brush his teeth...he stared at his reflection. At Steve's reflection. Stared into tired eyes with purple circles underneath them and a gauntness that hadn't been there earlier.

On top of all the other shit he was feeling...this especially was heavy, and sickening.

Not because Eddie was fond of Mary or Tom or douchebag Mayor Kline.

Not because he was under some illusion that marriages were supposed to be perfect and families were happy.

Not even at his own partial triumph that the perfect Harringtons were truly about as far from perfect as one could get.

But at the realization Steve had to live with the truth that could break up his family.

Steve's visit had you practically floating through the next few days. It was unexpected and so...perfect.

You had gone a few days without seeing him. Not that...you were trying to be clingy or anything. But for the past two weeks he had been consistent in his attention and affection for you...and for it to suddenly stop the day after you tore up your diary and resolved to get over Eddie?

After you told Eddie about your crush in the first place?

It had you in a panic. And, of course, instead of try to communicate and reach out at all, you internalized it and catastrophized.

What if Eddie told Steve? What if Steve hated you now? What if that's why he hadn't called? Or come in with the rest of the guys after their next show?

You thought it all came crashing down when Steve had stopped by and asked you why you went out with him. You thought he was trying to get the truth out of you and for a moment...it felt like the worst thing in the world.

Losing Steve felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

But when he asked again, seeming so lost and insecure. God, it just cut you, because...how could he not see how great he was? Why did he doubt that you liked him?

You relived it after you got home that night. Went over every moment, tried to make sense of it all. Tried to pinpoint anything you had done. And really the only thing you could think of was telling Eddie about your crush.

But...the good definitely outweighed the bad. Your little self-pity and worry over Steve's abandonment of you had vanished and...even now, you were still giggling over him. Over the happiness you felt that you liked him so much, that he liked you back. Liked you enough to worry that you might not like him.

You had to admit that it all felt silly. All of the back-and-forthing, all the doubt. But silliness was good, and it just made the days pass by swiftly. Benny had kept grumbling good-naturedly at your bright smile. He teased you and asked if you needed a quick 5 minute break later and if Steve would be waiting outside for you after close.

Hell, even Lynn's bitterness wouldn't ruin your good mood.

"Alright, Sunshine," she groused at the start of the early dinner rush, just as you came back from your break. "Better hike up that skirt a few inches. Your boyfriend's here, so you gotta look extra cute if you want a good tip. God knows your serving isn't good enough for it."

You felt yourself getting hot from embarrassment; not for Lynn's rude comments but because she said boyfriend, the fact that he was so recognizable now.

God, if Steve was here, Benny would never let you hear the end of it. But how did she know? Steve had work on Wednesdays...

You subconsciously touched your hair and adjusted your uniform before stepping into the dining room. Your eyes swept over the tables, looking for his familiar fluffy head of hair...only to come across another incredibly familiar head.

Your boyfriend. Lynn thought Eddie was your boyfriend.

Eddie's long, curly mane took flight as his head was thrown back, his laughter lost over the din of chattering customers. For a second you assumed he would be there with Jeff or Gareth--hell, he might even be there with Mickey catching up--until you saw the ultra-styled brunette perm that bounced with every motion.

In that moment, you either turned to stone, or you fell into a deep, dark abyss. It was hard to tell. It could have been both. Or neither. But something happened to you and you ceased to exist as you did just seconds before. Benny's little bell in the service hatch sounded flat and distant. The grumpy old man demanding coffee simply melted into the floor. Lynn became a blur in your peripheral vision and phased between tables like a phantom.

And Eddie and Nancy remained in perfect, painful focus.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

The bell in the window dinged twice and Benny shouted something to Lynn, effectively breaking you from your trance. You wiped your now-clammy hands on your apron and quickly approached the table.

"Hey, how's it going today? Can I get you guys something to drink?" You forced a polite smile onto your face and glanced between them.

This was the closest you'd been to Nancy...possibly ever; she was a year younger than you and aside from your interactions with Steve now, you really never had any business hanging near him when you were still at Hawkins High. She was really pretty. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was cute, and her voice was sweet and soft as she asked for coffee, please. Some dark part of you that made you hate yourself though that she was everything you weren't, and you couldn't blame it because Eddie was looking at her like she hung the stars.

"Eddie, are you gonna order?" Nancy's eyebrows jumped expectantly. "It's busy, I'm sure she has other people to help."

"Oh he's a regular he gets--" you started to defend him but Eddie cut you off.

"Just ice water." He didn't even look at you. "Thanks honey."

Your throat got tight and you shot them both a tight smile with a quick "be right back."

How did she do it? How was she...how did she get everyone? She had a boyfriend right? Unless they broke up. But still...she had Steve hung up on her for God-knows-how-long, and now Eddie was like a lovesick puppy.

Your mind raced as you retreated back to the kitchen and went through the motions of your job. Lynn was terrible about starting a fresh pot and you were relieved that you'd have an extra minute of respite to think before you did something stupid like spill hot coffee in Eddie's lap.

What were they doing here? Was this a date? You thought...you saw textbooks on the table. Were they just doing homework or...did they have class together? You'd offered a study session with Eddie once. Not a date. And it was in the library and not Benny's. Fuck. Was it a date? Fuck. And he never looked at anyone like that, let alone you.

Your movements were jerky and full of emotion. Coffee grounds spattered as you scooped them into the brewer, you slammed Eddie's water glass onto the counter, and by the time you were halfway bent inside the ice maker, taking out your frustrations on frozen water, Benny had enough.

"You need a different weapon to stab that ice kid?" Benny chuckled. You stood straight and faced him with, what you were sure was, a pathetic expression.

"I'm sorry Ben I--"

"You just came back from break," he stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's got you all worked up already? Someone out there harassing you? Need me to kick 'em out?"

"I mean, unless you wanna fire me," you replied tiredly, knowing you were more frustrated with yourself than with Eddie or Nancy.

"Ah," he nodded sagely. "I got it. Yeah, I go 8 rounds with myself sometimes too. Wanna talk?"

Did you want to talk to your boss about silly boy trouble? Trouble that you were trying to work through yourself? Because you were supposed to be getting over your crush on Eddie. You were with Steve...and you just needed to remind yourself of that.

Every time you walked out there and saw them talking. If their heads got too close as he whispered something to her over their homework. On the off chance you looked outside and saw them kissing in the parking lot after they left.

You thought...distance from Eddie would work. But you were friends with practically the same people and he always came into Benny's.

Maybe the answer wasn't trying to push Eddie away? Maybe it was just to get closer to Steve?

You ignored the roiling in your stomach and sighed. Either way this wasn't something Benny could help you with.

"Thanks Ben," you responded weakly. "But it's just...I think I have to work it out myself."

Before Eddie knew it, it was Friday and time for Hellfire.

It was weird now, having Robin know the truth about him and Steve. She was having a hard time adjusting to calling him Steve, knowing he was Eddie. Despite the fact that she had been calling him Steve the whole time.

"I'm just going to call you both Dingus," she reasoned. "That way there's no chance of messing it up."

She actually...had been pretty handy the past few days, trying to find the way for the two of them to switch back. She had checked out a bunch of books from the Hawkins Public Library and brought them to Family Video for them to scour through, had apparently taken to sitting with the Hellfire Club at lunch to prevent Steve from making a fool of himself--fat chance--and grilled both Steve and Eddie on every aspect of one another's lives that might be relevant to their switch. More importantly, the switch back.

"What is selfless love? Is it supposed to be...you doing a selfless act for one another? Because I saw this one test Steve took for you last week. He got a B! And you know he's purposefully having tutoring sessions for you? Must suck for him; he aced O'Donnell's class last year."

She had even been a listening ear after Eddie had found out about Steve's mom, and didn't know the best way to get around to talking to him about it.

It had to be eating Steve up inside...hell, Eddie didn't even like the Harringtons and he felt guilty for not telling Tom that his wife was ruining their family and hurting their son by bribing him to keep it all a secret.

Fuck. Were...were he and Steve friends now?

Eddie normally would have shivered at the thought but...actually it was kind of wholesome...to think that King Steve would slum it with the freaks.

But the line would be drawn if he ever had to admit that Steve was a nice guy. Even if it was the only thing that he had to do to get back into his own body...yeah wasn't happening. Guess he would be Steve Harrington forever.

He was currently waiting at the side entrance to the High School for Steve and the others to get back from picking up snacks for their session.

He actually managed to piece together a semi-decent looking outfit. The last few gigs at the Hideout and Hellfire meetings, he had shown up in Steve's signature polo-and-jeans look. But after digging in a box labeled "donate" at the back of Steve's closet, Eddie found what he was pretty sure was Steve's halloween costume a few years back.

A black t-shirt and some...dark grey blazer that Eddie spent his lunch break adding safety pins too--more punk rock than metal but it would do. Pop those on with some black jeans that he also zhuzh'd up...aka cut holes in...perfect Hellfire look.

He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb at least. Maybe he could ask Steve to bring him an extra shirt next week.

Eddie's van swerved into the parking lot and as soon as it stopped, the back doors swung open and Gareth jumped out with a whoop.

"Harrington, are you ready for carnage tonight?" he shouted at "Steve" and hauled a case of Mountain Dew over his head. The rest of the Hellfire club filtered out and greeted Eddie before helping unload their purchases.

Steve finally joined them and clapped Eddie on the back.

"Glad you could make it, Harrington," Steve winked and looked down at Eddie's clothes. "Slumming it again? What are you wearing?"

"I don't know, Munson," Eddie ran his hands down the front of the blazer. "Just something from the back of the closet."

"The safety pins are pretty cool," Dustin commented with a wink as he and Mike headed in.

Once the guys were inside, Steve hissed in Eddie's ear.

"What did you do to my jacket?"

"Dude you need to stop trusting your mom to buy your clothes," Eddie laughed. "I'm gonna go cross-eyed with all of the stripes."

"You're one to talk," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder your knees aren't permanently frostbitten. All of your jeans have rips in them."

Eddie shook his head. Asshole.

"Heard you're getting help in O'Donnells," Eddie remarked.

"News travels pretty fast," Steve kicked his feet, spraying the guys with gravel. "Which of you idiots blabbed. Gare?"

"Yeah he's been making kissy faces," Dave coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean...yeah he's been getting special tutoring sessions."

Kissy faces?

"From Nancy Wheeler!"

Wheeler?

"Mike doesn't know his ass from his elbow but even he knows you're crushing on his sister," Gareth teased, earning a high five from the others.

"Lay off," Steve preened in front of the others. "We've only had two study dates."

"Two days in a row!" Jeff protested. "That's your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend...yet."

Eddie felt dizzy; what was even happening. Steve was...Steve was dating you, why the hell was he talking about Nancy like...like he was gonna ask her out. Why was he trying to get him to date Nancy?

He grabbed Steve's arm as the other guys headed in.

"Are you...kidding me Harrington?" Eddie hissed. "I don't need a girlfriend, I just need to be back in my body. Jesus H. Christ."

"You don't...listen Eddie, you don't understand," Steve sighed.

"I think I do, you're obsessed with Nancy and you know she isn't gonna get back with you as yourself so you're trying to get her back as me." Eddie punctuated his words by jamming his finger into Steve's chest.

"She likes bad boys," Steve explained with a shrug. Eddie scoffed.

"Jonathan Byers isn't a bad boy. I'm not a bad boy. You're gonna make me look like an even bigger laughing stock than I already am."

"Well it's a good thing that I'm still you then, you get to enjoy life on top," Steve held out his arms. "It's a win-win. I get Nancy, you get not to be an absolute loser."

"Well what about your girlfriend?" Eddie asked. "You asked me to keep her warm. She's a good one. Don't scare her away."

"You can break up with her if that's your problem," Steve said dismissively. Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. "What? Isn't that it? You're tired of going on lame dates? Listen, we're no closer to switching back than we have been. Why can't you just...accept the inevitable."

"So you just...give up?" Eddie asked. "Because...I dunno, it just sounded like you want to be stuck as me for the rest of time as long as you can be delusional about Nancy."

Eddie realized that he was being thebiggest hypocrite right now.

He just didn't care.

Every day he made himself sick with worry that you were going to find out and hate him. Guilted himself over the fact that he had to lie and deceive you. Every day simply got harder, and as much as he reveled in your affections...he knew it wasn't right.

Eddie had gotten them both into this mess because he couldn't build up the courage to own up to his feelings for you...and now Steve was doing the same thing. Who's to say that if Steve--if "Eddie"--had a chance with Nancy, they might never be able to undo this spell at all.

"I'm not giving up, I'm just..." Steve ran a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be easier this way?"

There was a second of silence as Eddie connected the dots.

Maybe he wasn't the only one to blame here either. They were both jealous of each other. Eddie jealous because Steve was dating you. But Steve was jealous...because Eddie lived a supposed carefree life. Right? Wasn't that what Steve had said? And...and did Eddie not just find out how un-carefree Steve's life was?

"I get it now," Eddie muttered. "It isn't...it isn't just about Nancy. It's all of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you're me...then you don't need to worry about keeping mommy and daddy's marriage happy," Eddie explained. "You don't need to...work with Keith. You don't have to worry about living up to expectations when there are none."

"You talked to my mom?" Steve narrowed his eyes, his tone full of betrayal. "What the hell man?"

"I didn't but thanks for the warning man," Eddie scoffed. "Walked in on her and the mayor practically hanging off one another. Ah look at you, see? You look sick to your stomach. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But I bet it's felt good the last few weeks, not having to think about whether or not your dad is gonna find out. That your perfect life is gonna be ruined."

"My life isn't perfect!" Steve exclaimed.

"Neither is mine! If you didn't notice, it's as far from perfect as you can get. Maybe you've just been oblivious to it so far. A few weeks is nothing compared to 20 years man.

"What's gonna happen when the state pen calls on my birthday because dear old dad wants to chat. Or..or when you go to Rick's house to restock your supply and he's having a really bad day. You know how many times I've talked him out of just...ending it? It used to be easier when my mom was around but...guess what Steve? She's dead too.

"My life isn't easy," Eddie concluded. "Isn't perfect. So don't act like everything's easier just cuz you want to get in Nancy Wheeler's pants."

"You don't fucking know what you're talking about," Steve rumbled. "Nancy...shit she's the only person who I've ever loved. Who has ever loved me. Maybe my parents did a long time ago when I was still young enough to be my dad's little buddy and my mom's dress up doll. But not anymore. But Nancy? Nancy got me. She understood me like no one else did."

"What about your friends? What about Robin?"

"What other friends do I have besides Robin?" Steve asked. "They're all gone. They left. Even before graduation."

"And that's what you want now? You want Nancy and my friends too? To help fill your lonely little life?"

"My life is lonely? Please. You're playing a make believe game and wannabe rockstar twice a week with a bunch of kids. All your real friends left you behind too. And I might not know what my future holds but at least I have a future Munson," Steve huffed. "If this spell bullshit hadn't have happened, it isn't hard to guess where you would end up. Still living in that trailer park 20 years from now, fixing toilets, and fucking your fist because who would ever wanna be with someone like you? Who could ever love yo--"

Steve couldn't finish that sentence because Eddie's fist was rocketing into his face. The force of the punch made him fall to the ground.

Eddie felt empowered, filled with righteous anger and self hatred.

There was nothing worse than being faced with the hopelessness of his life, the pointlessness of his future...until those facts came from his own mouth.

"You're on your own Harrington," Eddie shouted as he turned on his heel and walked back to the BMW, not stopping for a second to look back, even as Steve called after him. "You wanna fix my life? You wanna be Eddie Munson? Be Eddie Munson. You don't need my help. Good fucking luck."

“Well here we are, Honey,” Steve announced as he pulled up to the curb in front of your house. “End of the Line. Home Sweet Home.”

It was the perfect date. Again.

Let the record show that Steve was the best at planning dates.

Honestly sometimes...it just seemed too good to be true.

There had been the night when he stopped by Benny's right before closing, and you had that chat outside. Even though you had an early class the next morning, he lured you out to the line of fast food places near the highway on an impromptu date and created ungodly mash ups with different sandwiches.

Or Thursday, he asked if you wanted to have a movie night and you suggested your place since Starcourt was always so packed. He had brought a ton of treats and extra supplies to build a blanket fort in your living room. He stole a few kisses when your hands met in the popcorn bowl. And you had gotten caught making out in the fort by your mom.

Then today--a Saturday of all days--he'd surprised you.

You’d walked outside, running late for your shift, only to find him parked at the curb, leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face. Told you that he had begged Benny to give you the day off to take you for a surprise.

"I have the day off from Family Video," he explained. "Figured I could use a little day out. Thought I could convince you to tag along."

As if a Saturday off wasn't surprising enough in and of itself.

It was honestly like something out of a John Hughes movie.

He had driven you into Indianapolis to go to some outdoor flea market. Played whatever music you wanted on the drive there and back. Got you all the roasted pecans and sweet confections from the vendors at the edge of the market had to offer. Made you fall for him more and more as he talked shop, laughed, and bartered for vintage records and cool sunglasses and a handful of pinback buttons.

"'Get Stoned?'" You laughed and picked out one rather large button.

"Like the Rolling Stones."

"I get it," you laughed. "Just didn't think you were into them enough to get a button."

"Oh...they're the Stones," Steve shrugged. "But, uh, figured...Eddie might be into it."

You really tried not to wince at the mention of Eddie’s name. You smiled and nodded but it just had you thinking back to Eddie and Nancy at Benny's. You knew you had to stop thinking about it...especially in comparison with Steve, and it was getting increasingly more difficult when Steve was the one who brought him up in the first place. Hell, when you stopped at a little drive-in outside of Marion for dinner, Steve even ordered, what you recognized as, Eddie's usual from Benny's.

It honestly threw you for a loop and made you feel a little crazy.

Just weeks ago you would have thought…well you wouldn’t have considered them similar at all.

And now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

You had spilled your heart out to Steve the other night, told him all the things that you liked about him. And it wasn't until you got home from work after seeing Eddie and Nancy together that you realized...a lot of the things you liked about Steve were also things you liked about Eddie.

Sure, Eddie and Steve were hanging out more after all, so they had to have something in common. Maybe hanging around each other brought out the best in one another. The glimpse of Steve you got after that third date…that genuine sweetness…was now only amplified by Eddie’s genuine personality.

Then you had Eddie…his seemingly endless confidence was more of a defense mechanism. Behind closed doors or with your heads leant together over homework he was more vulnerable. Sweeter. But now the confidence had almost made way for cockiness and indifference...which you really had never associated with Eddie before.

So the way he smile and looked at Nancy, the softness he freely gave--

The way you always wanted him to look and smile at you. The way that still devastated you not to be on the receiving end of.

—you rarely saw him show that soft side of himself so freely.

Even if Nancy had a boyfriend…well, it was a hurtful sight to witness and you truly hoped Eddie wouldn’t be hurt if she turned him down.

Huh. Eddie pining after Nancy and Steve being…just a sweetheart. A sweetheart you were falling for. It’s almost like they traded places or something.

You pondered the thought for a second and couldn’t help but laugh at how silly it all was.

“What’s got you laughing?” Steve’s voice broke through your fantastical thoughts and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I’m just…just happy.”

Steve smiled that million dollar smile of his--bright and sparkling--and tucked his head into his shoulder a little before glancing back at you.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Cuz you had a good time?”

“Well yeah, I always have a good time with you.” You shuffled in your seat a little, tugged at the seatbelt and scuffed your feet against the floor mat. “You, uh...you wanna come in?"

"Uh, is your mom home?" He chuckled nervously. "I don't want a repeat of last time."

No. That was mortifying.

"She's actually out with some coworkers. They got some big contract. Some international account blah," you waved your hand dismissively. "Kinda boring but she doesn't get to go out too much. I dunno.

"But uh...if you did want to come in...we could avoid a play by play. If you catch my drift?" You raised your eyebrows seductively and you thought you made the right reference--he was a sports guy after all. But he just looked like a deer in the headlights.

That was just the natural progression of dating right?

You kiss a little or a lot...and then you make out on your couch...and then...so why did he look shocked. You didn't wanna push him...but he was also Steve Harrington. You honestly thought he would have made a move by now.

Some wicked voice in the back of your head piped up.

Maybe the problem wasn't Steve; maybe you were the problem...

"It's ok if you don't want to," you backtracked, suddenly self-conscious. "Because I know you...you probably work tomorrow or something."

"No!" he shouted, the volume of it a little shocking thanks to the close proximity in the car. "Yes that's...no I...we can go in."

You held back a sigh of relief and smiled shakily.

The walk inside was unremarkable, but every second that passed was filled with more anticipation than the one before. Steve teased you for fumbling with your keys, enough that you dropped them, and he gave your butt a little pat. You grabbed him around the middle and waddled him back from your mother's steam-cleaned carpets so he could kick off his shoes, all the while running your hands over his toned chest. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, like a good hostess would, and he simply quirked a brow and said there was only one thing that could quench his thirst.

But before long it was all just a vague blur because he pushed you up against the wall in the front room and eagerly fused his lips to yours.

Steve was always a little noisy, always humming, but his noises became needier the longer you went. His hands gripped your waist and he thumbed the softness there consistently, as though he needed to prove to himself that you were truly safe within his grasp.

He swallowed the giggles that softly escaped you when his fingers found just the right spot.

"Ticklish?" he broke away and pulled just far enough back to grin through those kiss-swollen lips. You whined impatiently in response. "I think I found my lady's weakness...it's ok. Your secret is safe with me."

A voice echoed in your head, soft and sweet. My lady. Gravelly with sleep in the morning before class, accompanied by a bow, as you passed by Hellfire Club on the way to homeroom

No, no, no. Not again. You were here with Steve. Steve. Not Eddie.

"Mmmh, and what about you?" you muttered petulantly, pushing the thought away. He surged forward for another peck but you kept your hand firm on his chest to hold him back. "Isn't it fair I learn your weakness too?"

"I've gotta have some secrets don't I?" He pulled one of your hands away and pressed feather light kisses to each of your fingers, then the back of your hand.

An image was summoned in your mind's eye, the feeling of lips on your hand as you practiced some sort of Shakespearean reenactment for English class.

Eddie needed to get out of your head. Out of your heart.

You batted Steve's hand away, grabbed his face and mashed your lips to his urgently.

There was a build of anticipation; it was frenzied but it didn't feel rushed. Now that you two had a moment alone--truly alone to explore one another without a nosy neighbor or a potentially wandering police officer or a well-intended parent--it was clear that you both wanted this and wanted to savor every minute of it. Memorize every dip, every curve, every plane. Paint the taste of one another on the canvas of each other's tongues.

He tasted like...

Cherry Pie and Cigarettes and Juicy Fruit Gum.

But he didn't chew Juicy fruit. But he did. But he didn't. Steve didn't. Eddie did.

Steve chewed Big Red. He told you so on your first date when you asked for a stick after the bitter taste of coffee lingered in your mouth.

"I only chew Big Red, is that ok?"

But he had chewed gum in the car after you left the diner. He had his pie, he smoked really quick--a habit you vaguely remembered him saying he was quitting--and he had offered you a piece of Juicy Fruit as he turned the key in the ignition.

You compared Eddie and Steve in the car before, chalked it up to them being friends. But now here he was again and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to fall for Steve in peace. And you were, you really were, but you were also getting sick of Eddie popping up at the most inopportune times.

You pushed Steve away from you and panted heavily.

"You wanna go to my room?" you asked abruptly. Your eyebrows shot upwards expectantly as Steve stared at you with big, dumb eyes and a shocked expression.

"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "Uh, yeah...yes."

Eddie didn’t know how to feel being in your room.

On the one hand…he doubted whether he should really be here. This was everything he had just condemned Steve for. On the other…it really had been the perfect day with you. You quieted the doubt in his mind. All of Steve’s cutting words about…being alone and never knowing love…they didn’t matter when you held his hand and looked him in the eyes and kissed him.

All of the sweet things you said to him the other night flooded his mind and made him feel like he was underwater. Submerged in your love.

If he closed his eyes and imagined the world was perfect, it did feel like love. He could convince himself that you loved him too. 

The minute your bedroom door was closed behind him, you had grabbed Eddie and pushed him onto your bed. The plush comforter cushioned his fall and your pillows had all bounced around him and he chuckled.

He craned his neck to get a look around your room—white walls decorated with some posters and cutouts from magazines here and there, a small desk, a bookshelf that was so full it was more book than shelf. He’d learned so much about you the past few weeks, more than he had over the past few years of knowing you, but this…aside from the fact that you had crawled onto his lap and we’re nipping at his neck…this was the most intimate he would ever get to know you. Not your body. But your soul, your mind, your light.

If this was his last glimpse of you he ever got in his life, he would die happily. He didn’t need to pretend things were perfect to acknowledge that he was in love with you. It was a fact of his existence at this point. And he needed to show you.

“H-honey?” He asked softly. “Stop.”

“You don’t like this?” You laved at the point where his jaw met his neck before sucking a bruising kiss there. His nerves were alight at the sensation and blood rushed south.

“Where did you learn to do that? Hmm?” He asked teasingly as his hand gripped your waist. You pulled back and grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Oh? You’ve got secrets? Well I’ve got a secret too.”

Something akin to worry flashed behind your eyes and he reached up to caress the side of your face.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s not bad. Let me show you.”

Eddie pulled your mouth back to his and you fell into him, obviously enjoying the soft attentions of his kiss. From there he eased you onto your back, happy to hover over you and press his body into yours. He grinned as you made a needy little noise.

More? He could give you more; he was planning on it. More importantly, you were eager to have him take.

You were soft and pliant against him, malleable, as his mouth traveled from yours, down your neck, and further down still. His hands antecedent of his descent, they prepared you for what was to come, gave you every opportunity to push him away, though you never would. He grasped your wrists and pressed them to the soft mattress above your head, rucked up your shirt so he could attend to your breasts.

Fingers deftly peeled away the cups of your bra and as he suckled and venerated, he found that the little strumming motion he liked to do when he played with himself was also one that made you whine deliciously;  calloused pads oscillating over supple fullness and hardened peaks.

Eddie abandoned his paltry devotions to continue onwards. He knelt back and quickly began removing your skirt and underwear, cute little things that would serve no purpose if you were to let him proceed.

“Is this ok Honey? You can tell me to stop,” he assured you. You bit your lip and your bliss-filled face became bashful, but you shook your head anyway. “No? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” you replied breathily. “Please.”

“I won’t. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise.”

He ushered you to scoot further up the bed so your head could be cradled by the plush pillows. He couldn’t resist dropping another kiss or two to your lips, to sooth the sting that your teeth were inflicting. Your little needy noises were cute, but you were holding back and he simply couldn’t let that happen. 

“I want to hear you,” he muttered, running his thumb over your lips. “It’s just us. No one will hear. I need to know if I’m doing something you don’t like. Or something you really like. Then I know to do it again next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah…this isn’t some quick romp at a party or outside a concert, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips for emphasis. “And again.” Another kiss to your breast. “And again.” One last kiss against your stomach before he settled himself in the cradle of your thighs, hissing the slightest bit as his hips came in contact with your mattress.

He was throbbing, aching for his own pleasure, eager for a release that he’d been ignoring and denying himself. He shifted and found a little friction, the mattress and his jeans doing just enough to sate him while he took care of another hunger.

Never let it be said that Eddie hadn’t met a pussy that he didn’t think was pretty but you—open for him and wanting--were gorgeous. Tempting. Eddie clicked his tongue as he finally got a good look at you, fluttering with want, dripping with ambrosia.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?” He admonished with a smirk, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he settled your leg over his shoulder, nestling in for an extended, more comfortable time. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long.”

“I didn’t…I…” Your excuse was cut off by your combined moans as he latched onto you, immediately finding the swollen button at the top of your sex. He laved back and forth, teasing you until you whined. The taste of you, the smell of you—the earthy sweetness that bloomed on his tongue and settled at the base of his throat—caused his hips to jerk against the bed and he pulled back a little, eager but ready to let you feel good for as long as he could. He rotated his attention between your clit and your lips and your neglected little hole, kissed and nuzzled and lapped up whatever slick you gifted him. 

Eddie moved his hand from where it was caressing your thigh so he could ramp up the fun. You jumped as he caressed your lips, played with the spit and slick.

“Do you touch yourself honey?” You covered your face. “Didn’t I just tell you that I wanted to hear you? So tell me, do you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” you threw your hands down and grasped the plush comforter.

“Do you think of me?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Do you want more?” He blew a soft breath across your thigh and you shivered.

“P-please, more.”

Eddie slid his fingers over you, watched as you shuddered and twitched, basked in your wanton little noises. With his other hand, he shifted slightly and undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, pushing them down just so, so he could rock against the bed, seeking more physical relief. He dove back in with kisses and licks and nips, getting adventurous as he slid a finger into you. You stiffened up for just a moment before he took you to higher heights. 

"Uuhnnnhhh, yes," you moaned breathily. Beautifully. "Right there. Yes!"

The tightness was luxurious and his head spun, imagining what the rest of the night might bring. He could feel you panting, getting closer and closer to your peak. He would get you there. Gladly. Again and again. Over and over until you couldn’t take any more.

“Please!”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Please I’ve—“

“You wanna cum sweetheart.” He grinned against you. “I’ll get you there but you have to beg. Come on.”

"P-please S-Steve!"

Eddie froze.

His ears started ringing. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. It all came flooding back, the realization, the hatred, the resentment. The want to be with you and the fact that he couldn't.

"W-what's wrong?!" you stammered and pushed yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of him. "What happened?"

Eddie couldn't answer. He could barely look at you.

He pushed your leg off his shoulder, and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror beside the bed—

The freckled skin, the fluffy hair, the rumpled polo, the hazel eyes staring back at him smugly.

--he couldn't even look at himself.

“Please, talk to me. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"I just...I..." he choked at the sound of his voice. But not his voice.

He shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He ran a hand over his face and ignored the questions that came out of you. He quickly yanked up his jeans and barely fastened them. He ignored the belt.

He quickly turned on his heel and ran out of your room. He jammed his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the jacket he had hung on the coat hook by the door to get his keys. 

Not his keys. 

Steve’s keys. Steve’s car, Steve’s body, Steve’s life, Steve’s love.

Not his.

He let the jacket fall to the floor, abandoned, as he quickly made his escape.

All the while you called and ran after him.

"Steve?! Wait! Steve!!"

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Freaky Friday Chapter 5 will be uploaded by Sunday, May 21st at 7pm CST.