#if you somehow manage to read through all of this then congrats

[avis-writeshq]

heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–” 

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch. 

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol. 

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

*** 

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins. 

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms. 

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it. 

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him. 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

[mikkomacko]

Can we pls get a blurb of Jack and Luke finding out the dog’s name is Moose?? I feel like you had an ask about this and how Jack would be baby about it. I feel like a lil blurb would be so funny

“Guys me and Nico got a baby!”

Jack and Luke freeze, pizza slices halfway to their mouths, dripping cheese and grease onto the stupidly thin paper plates.

“How’d he do that?”

You roll your eyes like it’s obvious, stabbing your fork into your Caesar salad and mixing the dressing around. “He bought him?”

Nico appears at the edge of the booth, four fountain sodas in hand that he starts distributing. Until he sees the way Luke and Jack are gaping at him. “What?”

“Dude,” Jack admonishes, “you can’t just buy babies.”

Nico sits down next to you, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“No,” you groan, dropping your fork onto your bowl and reaching for your phone. “not an actual baby you dingbats, it’s a dog.”

You hold your phone out to them, showing them the photo you took this morning of Nico and Moose. The puppy had clambered onto the bed this morning after you let him out to pee, excited and wound up after a night’s rest and the cold morning weather. Nico was still asleep, face half hidden by his pillow and Moose had draped himself over Nico naked shoulder, nipping and gnawing at his messy bed head until he woke up.

Somehow you managed to snap a photo of the two seconds Nico was laughing at Moose before he started grumbling and wrestling the poor thing into the pillows.

“Oh,” Jack and Luke breathe in unison, shoulders drooping in relief. “We really thought you’d somehow bought a child for her.”

“He is my child,” you scoff at Jack. “Look at how cute, he’s even got Nico’s eyes.”

Luke zeroes in on the screen, mouthing pursing in contemplation. “Huh, he kinda does,” he looks between Nico and the screen. “Congrats boss.”

“Thanks,” Nico deadpans.

Jack takes a bite of pizza, grease smearing on his lips. “So where is the little monster?”

“The baby is at mannerism school.” You say proudly, taking a bite of your food. Nico reaches around you for the red pepper flakes, dumping it onto his slice.

“He goes to school?”

Nico sets the shaker down. “I had him trained in Bern, but this is like basic dog lessons at a dog daycare.”

“We wanted him to get used to be around other dogs and stuff.” You add.

The two boys share a look. “His first day and you just dumped him at doggy daycare?”

“Don’t even start with that,” Nico groans, “please she’ll start crying again.”

Embarrassed, you avoided their gaze, not wanting to explain that you did in fact get teary saying bye to Moose this morning. You almost called Luke to cancel lunch but decided not to since you owe them for helping you move.

“Timo took him,” you explain, swiping through your phone again for the text your bestie had sent earlier. It’s a selfie of him and Moose in the car, the puppy sitting politely in the back seat with a pup cup in the cup holder and Timo holding up his own Starbucks drink.

You show them the text, smiling so wide it hurts your cheeks. “Aren’t they cute?”

The boys don’t answer you. “‘Uncle Timo and Moose’s day out’,” Luke reads, then his eyes are snapping to yours, wide and curious. “His name is Moose?”

“Yeah, doesn’t he look like a Moose?” You giggle, then frown. “Nico keeps calling Müsli but I don’t like that. Timo said it means little mouse.”

Nico snickers next to you and you elbow him, pouting as you put your phone away. Jack, glaring at his pizza takes a harsh drink of his soda.

“Who named him Moose?” Luke prods, leaning forward in his chair.

“Me,” you brag as Jack mutters, “Like Nico would ever pick that stupid name.”

“Hey!” Luke and you complain in unison.

“She likes the name, chill out.” Nico defends, nudging Jack’s leg with his foot. “What’s the matter with you?”

“That’s my name,” Luke explains much to your confusion. “When we were kids we all had nicknames. Quinn was Huggy, Jack was Rowdy-“

“Fitting,” you snort.

“-and I was Moose.”

The nicknames are cute, you think. You’ve never met Quinn but from what they’ve told you the nickname fits. It’s endearing to think of them as kids, actual kids, teasing and brainstorming these names.

“Awww that’s sweet,” you coo, “Moose and uncle Moose.”

“And Uncle Rowdy!” Jack complains.

“Can’t forget Rowdy,” Nico tsks, shaking his head at you. “If I’d have known Rowdy was on the table I would’ve picked that.”

Jack narrows his eyes. “Liar,” he hisses and your boyfriend chuckles.

“You didn’t know we’d have matching names?” Luke asks, sounding a little dejected at the idea that this wasn’t planned.

Guilty, you frown. “I’ve had Moose picked out for years,” his face falls “-but isn’t it better to think that the name Moose connected us before we knew each other? It’s like we were family this whole time.”

Satisfied with your answer, Luke nods and smiles, going back to his pizza. You look at Nico, widening your eyes in relief that you pulled that off. He laughs to himself.

Jack is still pouting and grumpy as he finishes his pizza, and then he glares at Luke when his younger brother orders and inhales two more slices and holds you all up.

“Hey,” you nudge Jack with your foot, waiting for him to look at you before nodding to the connected ice cream parlor. “Come with me?”

Nico lets you out of the booth, squeezing your hand just once before handing you his wallet. Then he’s sitting back down with Luke, watching with interest as the boy inhales his body weight in pizza and garlic fries.

You link your arm through Jack’s, leading him out of the pizza restaurant and in front of the case of ice cream.

You get a chocolate shake and Jack gets a double scoop of mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone, smiling in thanks when you request extra sprinkles on his.

“When I said that the name Moose made us family before we knew each other, I meant you too.” You say to him as you wait for your dessert.

Jack looks at you, expression indifferent but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s really listening. “You don’t have to baby me-“

“I’m not,” you interrupt, “but I mean I can’t help myself sometimes. You and Luke were like my babies, you guys were the first ones to accept me and welcome me out of all the boys.

“You especially.”

He shrugs, a blush creeping up his neck. “Really?”

You lay your head on his shoulder, squeezing his elbow. “Nico cares a lot about you, even though he likes to tease. So when you actually believed in me and liked me, it felt like I was doing the right thing. Like it was meant to be. I was fitting in with Nico’s family.”

“I like you better,” he says, and the server places your shake on the counter. Jack grabs it for you and you let him go.

“I like you better too,” you agree, sipping your shake. He gets handed his cone. “Well not more than Nico but pretty close.”

Jack shrugs but he’s laughing, that signature Hughes smirk on his face.

“So the next dog,” he says leading you back to Nico and Luke. “Rowdy or no?”

“Sure.”

[radio-writes]

It's about time for your blood to spill + you should sleep + we were soulmates

(Congrats on the 300 followers btw!)

Now, The Echoes Interlace

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Blood, physical injuries to reader, ambiguous major character death(s), angst

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, relationship can be read in any way

MDNI

"You always have looked so pretty in red, Al." You hummed as your combed your fingers through his soft hair. You pressed your fingers against his scalp, lightly massaging against his antlers.

The light static that varied in volume crackled. "Fuck you." Alastor managed to say as his head laid on your lap.

His smile was strained—present, of course, as it always was, but strained. The trail of blood from his mouth dripped from his chin, joining the warm pool under both your bodies.

"Rude." You scolded him. Your breath coming out in a hiss as Alastor dug his claws into an open wound on your leg. 

"Must you continue to hurt me? You're already dying." You glared down at him as you would at a misbehaving pet.

You leaned forward, easily removing his hand from your body without much of a struggle. He only had so much strength left after all. 

"Fuck you." Alastor repeated, static morphing his voice this time around.

"Yes, well, I get that you're mad, Al." You continued your casual tone. "But it was about time for your blood to spill, don't you think?"

You grunted as you leaned your back against the cold wall again, sighing as the tension on the wound across your stomach was lessened.

"F—"

"Fuck me, yes yes." You cut him off. "Save your strength or you'll die out faster."

Alastor didn't mean to listen to you, but he just felt far too tired to argue otherwise.

Your hand returned to his head, damp with sweat and blood, and yet somehow still so adorably fluffy. Leave it to this guy to still look so presentable even when dying a second time around.

Your fingers scratched at one of his tufts of hair, causing it to give a slight, involuntary twitch.

"So they are ears." Your voice was soft. "I always assumed but was never really sure, you know?"

Alastor didn't respond. His red eyes continued to glare at you.

He adjusted his hands to lay over his chest. A weak attempt to slow his loss of blood. He didn't even have enough energy to press on it anymore.

"Hey, Al." You wheezed, breath slightly knocked from you. You had adjusted the way you sat so the demon could lay more comfortably on your lap. "Do you remember how we first met?"

"You told me that cheesy pick up line. How'd it go again?" Your hand paused as you tried to remember. 

A rather dashing demon slid up to you at the bar; charming, sharp smile, on full display. You've seen all sorts of sinners by now, but none so happy while rotting in hell.

You expected him to sell you drugs, or quite bluntly tell you to sleep with him. What you got instead was a very corny: 

"You must be buried treasure, because I am absolutely digging you." You let out a tired laugh, hand continuing to pet Alastor once more.

The sound of static crackling again was the only response you got. You think it meant fuck you. 

"Well you must be treasure as well, Al. Because it seems I'll be burying you tonight." You met Alastor's harsh glare with a soft smile.

"What? That absolutely was funny, you can't deny it." You defended yourself.

Alastor didn't think him dying was funny at all, actually, but he didn't exactly have any energy left to say that.

His smile was a tight, close lipped one, but you see his lips try to curl just a tiny bit in what you assumed would have been a snarl. 

"You always thought I was hilarious." Your own hand moving over the gash on your neck as if it was a mild inconvenience. You titled your head as you looked down at the demon on your lap. "What changed?"

Alastor merely glared at you.

Your eyes traveled down his body, staying on the deep wound oozing across his chest.

"That's not fair, Al." You laughed tiredly, eyes staying on his bloodied torso. "I always thought you were incredibly handsome—sinfully so really. But your attempts at killing me never changed that."

"Fuck you." The static over his voice was gone now. His tone was as spiteful, angry, and condescending as always, but much, much weaker.

Your eyes drifted back to his face. His smile was still present, but his lovely red eyes seemed more unfocused than they were a second ago.

Your hand in his hair stopped their movements. For a moment, the world was still as you wondered if your company had already left.

But it was merely for a heart beat, as a ragged breath from his lips snapped time back into motion.

You pealed your fingers from his hair, bringing them down to softly rub your knuckles down his cheek. He doesn't so much as flinch, but, you knew he would have had he been able to.

"Hey, old pal." You cooed softly. "You should sleep, you look so very tired."

His fingers on his chest twitched once, but you didn't get much of a reply anymore after that.

You sighed heavily. Your hands rested on his face as you leaned your head against the wall behind you, face craned upwards to the red sky that covered all of Hell.

Your own eyes closed, realizing just how tired and weary you yourself were.

Still, you were never one to be silent around a friend—or foe. It had always been unclear to you when it came to Alastor.

"We were soulmates, wouldn't you say so, Al?" You continued softly. "But in a funnier way, I think, where we were always meant to destroy the other."

Alastor's skin felt as it always did beneath your fingers. The stench of blood heavy as it always was around him. You felt his familiar eerie presence by you, as you always did.

And yet, you were unsure if he actually was still there. You were quite conflicted about how you were supposed to feel about that, truth be told.

"Fuck you, old friend." You sighed, eyes remaining closed, smile tiredly stretching across your own lips.

[sophieinwonderland]

"They're Hellenists now?!"

I love the title here, and how this r/systemscringe member is freaked out that systems do, in fact, exist in all religions!

That's right! Nowhere is safe from us!

Yes dear, people do tend to talk differently in spaces where they can be anonymous and not have their lives and reputations be ruined due to rampant ableism. The fact that many systems would be afraid to say this aloud because of social consequences, including losing support from friends, family, and possibly even their employment is really not the slam dunk you think it is.

I don't know why I keep reading takes from these subreddits when they all make me lose braincells every time.

First, seeing yourselves as separate people is fine. Healthy multiplicity is a valid goal.

But even if it wasn't and you take the outdated view that you need to see yourselves as one person in order to heal, people do counterproductive things all the time.

"Real people wouldn't do this because it's counterproductive" is the biggest indicator that you have somehow managed to go through your whole life without ever interacting with even one single real person. Because if you ever had, you would know better!

I know it's hard for you people, but please at least try to use your brains for once!

It's only one alter who wants to practice, so it would feel dishonest to claim they themselves, as the alter writing that post, was a follower of Artemis. It's likely they have a different religion.

Again though, this is an anonymous account.

And more importantly, people with DID... and I know this is a shock to r/systemscringe... ARE HUMAN BEINGS!!!

They are not a monolith, and even if some are reluctant to come out as having DID in public, it's pretty absurd to think they all will.

And it being a covert disorder doesn't mean that nobody with the disorder will ever talk about it. It means that it can be hard to detect given that amnesia can make switching hard to remember, and a lot of the experiences in it are internal. If someone with DID doesn't tell you, there's a good chance you wouldn't know. From the outside, they might just seem forgetful, and to change moods a lot.

The disorder being covert doesn't give you an excuse to fakeclaim anyone who talks about having it!

It's infuriating that r/systemscringe's standards for fakeclaiming is literally just... saying that you have a disorder...

And one final point is that for the people who are ashamed and won't talk about it, the reason for this is because of people like those on r/systemscringe who will treat them like they're either lying, crazy, OR BOTH! And the way to fight shame and normalize talking about DID and OSDD is to be brave, take risks, and talk about having them in places that aren't just about those disorders.

So congrats to that one user who went and spoke about their alters in the Hellenism subreddit. It's only a small step forward, but progress will be made by a million small steps like this one.

[httpiastri]

❣️ getting into your dream uni/school and pepe and paul if possible :>

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

pepe marti

pepe will have been talking about & manifesting this for ages. not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but inspires you to work hard to get into it – not because it will make him happy, but because it's your dream. do you get what i mean? he's extremely excited and supportive all the way, and when you tell him that you got in, it's like all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place.

pepe is the type to say "hey, let's go check out your soon-to-be uni" at 2am, out of nowhere, during summer break when you're moving in there in just a few months. and when you say "well, i've already been there", he answers "but have you seen it at night?"... and then he's the type to drive the 1.5 hour it takes to get to your dream uni, hold your hand while walking around the campus, flashlight pointed at the buildings and asking you where you'll have your classes and where you'll eat your lunch. and then he points at random benches telling you about the summer afternoons you'll spend sitting on them with your newly made besties, or nodding towards lecture halls and explaining what types of classes you'll have in them ("racing strategy 101" and "twitch streaming with your platonic boyfriend" being two of his favorite ones).

and somehow, he makes you even more excited to start uni than you already were.

(and then, he drives you the 1.5 hour home again in his car, smiling at the sight of you all curled up and asleep in the passenger's seat, the content look on your face making him so happy because you made it!)

paul aron

paul doesn't get overly excited with you too often, but when he does, you bet his smile won't ever fade. when you tell him the news as you're walking home from a date, trying to make it sound like no big deal, he stops in his tracks and just gapes at you. then, he stumbles over his words, before managing to get out a "are you for real?!". and when you nod at him, he wastes no time pulling you up into his arms, a loud cheer erupting from his chest as he squeezes you tight.

paul would be so proud of you that he doesn't even know what to do. he wants to share it on his instagram story, tell everyone he meets on the street, scream it at the top of his lungs from a mountain. he knows he isn't allowed to, unfortunately, so he settles for telling all of his family members. he gets very frustrated when ralf seemingly doesn't care more than just a "that's great, congrats", but he knows he can trust the female members of his family to give you the reactions you deserve. his mom and sister are both over the moon, hugging you and gushing over it all, and paul just watches like "🥰 exactly what you deserve".

i think paul also really wants to help you prepare as much as he can, like helping you read through the course catalog, going furniture shopping (if you're moving away for uni), buying stationery with you... i also think he would definitely buy random stationery in the places he races in, so one day he just goes "oh i got you this notebook in barcelona" or "look at this pizza pen i got in imola, it's going to be your lucky pen in uni"....

[hochsleep]

Chapter 1: Just survive somehow

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: profanity, typical TWD violence.

• Summary: You and your little sister Lottie have to escape from the walkers in the forest. You both almost become lunch for the living dead, but suddenly you are rescued by a stranger, and thanks to persuasion you manage to get to his camp in the quarry. But it seems that the relationship between you does not work out. You will have to find an approach to him, because otherwise you will not survive.

• Word count: 4k

• A/N: Well, I've written...something. I actually have no idea how I'm going to combine this fanfic and the Daryl Dixon x OC fanfic on ao3 (there's a link in the pinned post on my profile page if you're interested), but I'm going to try. Yeah, I literally wrote in an introductory post a couple weeks ago that I wouldn't be writing big works on Tumblr and where are we now? I haven't been very consistent in what I've said. Anyways, posting the first chapter now.

I know it might be a bit boring in the beginning now, I'm not a big fan of the first episodes or chapters in series and books myself, but you have to start somewhere. I'm still just getting into the subject of Y/N fanfics, so I'll be learning as I write the work. What I can say now.

Please correct me in the comments if you find mistakes! Of course, I double-check my work before publishing, but something could still slip through. Especially since you, as an English-speaking audience, will be more attentive to turns of speech, slang and so on. Let me remind you that English is not my native language and I use a translator (you can read more about it in the attached post in my profile). So feel free to make corrections, I am always open to help and constructive criticism!

Oh, and also, congrats to everyone on the release of TWD: Daryl Dixons season 2!

Enjoy reading!

Then.

"Come on, Lottie, hurry up!" - you shouted to your little ten-year-old sister, who ran after you between the trees in the forest.

“Y/N!” a little girl shouted, following you but lagging behind every now and then.

A few walkers was getting closer, and it was like Lottie could barely move her legs. She had to run faster. She should have saved herself. But could you blame a ten-year-old girl? She’d had to lose her family and friends in the last few days, and there were the living dead walking the earth. The world has changed at the snap of a finger. Lottie probably still hoped it was just a bad dream.

You too.

You had to watch your neighbor across the street, Mrs. Faulkner, pounce on your mother and start biting chunks of skin off her neck without much effort. That's hardly realistic. But that's life now. All those radio warnings about a virus spreading in Europe turned out to be true. That it was incurable. That the dead will rise up and walk the earth again. That their bite would kill you and make you come back to life after a while. It all seemed so distant and unrealistic that you, like most Americans, just changed the channel on the TV or radio when you heard the news of the virus again. After all, there's been a lot of crap and "incurable" diseases throughout human history. If a plague in the Middle Ages couldn't kill the entire world's population, why would some disease do it in 2010 when medicine is booming almost everywhere in the world? Bullshit.

Where are you now? Running with your little sister through the woods while at least four walking corpses are chasing you? This whole thing really does feel like a cheap horror movie. Or a scary dream. A scary dream in a cheap horror movie.

“Lottie! You can’t stop!” you screamed while your little sister looked back and slowed down at every opportunity.

You had a hard time running yourself. Not that you’ve been a fanatic about physical activity in all the years of your life. Yoga and Pilates were your max and only on feel-good days. But the adrenaline in your blood was doing its thing and it allowed you to run faster and longer. Which was not the case with your sister. The girl was tired and breathing hard. She kept looking back to see how close the walkers were to the two of you, even though you had forbidden her to look back.

“Y/N, they’re close! They’re going to catch up with us!” shouted Lottie panting.

You started frantically looking around for a place to take cover. Apparently Lottie wouldn’t be able to run for much longer. You were breathing hard, too, and your legs were sore from the exertion. You had to hide. But where the hell could you hide in the middle of the woods? In the long run, you could hide behind a large tree, but the walkers had already spotted you and were following you, so that option was no longer viable. Climb a tree? You could if you knew how to climb trees. But even so, how long can you and Lottie stay in a tree? You’d have to come down sooner or later, and walkers don’t feel tired or weak, so you couldn’t expect them to give up and fall asleep at some point. No, they’re going to wait until the food comes down from the tree. And again, you can’t climb trees. But Lottie can. What are the chances she’ll agree to climb a tree while you distract the walkers? What’s the chance you’ll survive? How’s she gonna get back down and survive in the woods alone? She’s barely ten years old, for goodness sake, and she didn’t get out into the wild until the last few days! You're all she's got. She's all you have. So it’s just the two of you hiding and surviving together.

“Come on, sweetie, just a little more!” you grabbed your sister’s hand and dragged her forward.

Now.

“Carl! That’s not fair!” shouted Lottie as the boy stuffed the last five hazelnuts into his mouth and grinned cockily.

“It’s all fair, whoever got there first takes it all,” Carl said with his mouth full.

“I’ve just turned my back and you’ve already eaten it all! We’re out of nuts!” frowned Lottie.

“Daryl will find more when he goes hunting,” Carl only shrugged innocently.

“Then you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Lottie snorted and got up from the plaid she and Carl were sitting on.

Lottie approached Carol and Sophia, who were ironing clothes. Sophia’s father was a cruel man as far as Lottie could tell. He had forbidden his daughter from playing with the other two children at camp simply because he had decided to. And now the creepy man sat on a folding chair with a bottle of beer in his hand and strictly made sure Sophia stayed close to her mother and helped her with her “women's responsibilities” as he called it. It sucked.

“Hi, Sophia,” Lottie smiled at the girl, “and Mrs. Pelletier,” she nodded to Carol.

“Hello, honey,” Carol smiled gently at the girl. Sophia looked at her father warily and not noticing the vehement objection on his face, she smiled and nodded to Lottie.

“Carl ate all the nuts, but I brought you what I managed to salvage,” Lottie pulled a few hazelnuts out of the pocket of her jean shorts and held them out to her friend.

“Thank you,” Sophia said quietly and quickly tucked the nuts into her pocket while her father turned away.

“When can you play with me and Carl? Maybe tonight?” asked Lottie hopefully.

“Maybe tomorrow?” answered Carol for Sophia when she saw her head lowered frustratedly. “I’ll talk to Daddy, honey,” said the woman to her daughter, stroking her back.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Lottie sighed and went on to find something else to do besides playing with Carl. She was still mad at him a little about the nuts.

You were on duty on the roof of Dale’s motorhome, a kindly older man who tried to change you every twenty minutes and told you to go get some rest. But the duty was actually a rest. You just sat on a folding chair on the roof of the car and watched the surroundings. Dale and Glenn were basically doing the same duties, only with a shotgun in hand. Just in case. You weren’t trusted with a shotgun. It didn’t make much sense since you couldn’t shoot. And you weren’t very good at close combat. So you just had to keep an eye on the area around the camp and warn them of possible danger. It’s no big deal. Except that the merciless Georgia sun was as hot as anywhere in Africa. It seemed that way to you, anyway. You were sweating in every part of your body, your hair sticking to the damp skin on your back, your clothes wet with sweat, and you were as tanned as if you’d gone to a tanning salon. The only thing that kept you warm was the powdered lemonade Dale had made, some old nature magazine from the glove compartment of Shane’s jeep, and the cowboy hat Andrea had lent you. Even though you've spent the last ten years of your life in Georgia, you've managed to hide from the heat until this day. Whether at home in your stepdad's garage under a fan while he blames his barely living car. Or at work in the supermarket by the house. There were old air conditioners that you thought were your age, but you didn't complain as long as they worked. Especially hot days you spent in a cozy old cafe from the 50's, where your mother worked as a waitress and let you lounge for hours in the coziest booth close to the fan. In general you had no need to sit under the sun in such hellish heat without a hint of shade. How could there be any shade on the roof of an old mobile home? You have to melt like a piece of butter on toast.

You heard someone climbing up the ladder to the roof. It definitely wasn't Dale, you'd have realized from his static grunts. It was Lottie. Her old pink cap appeared before you saw your sister.

“Hey,” you smiled at your little sister, “I thought you were hanging out with Carl and Sophia.”

“Carl’s a jerk today, and Sofia can’t play with us, her dad won’t let her,” the girl snorted and sat on your lap, because sitting on the sun-hot roof of the car wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Hey, I’d take a swear jar from you right now,” you tried to look at Lottie with a stern big sister look, but it never really worked. It looked ridiculous and hardly got any respect from the kid.

“Sorry,” the girl sighed, “but Carl is really behaving badly today. He ate the last of the nuts while I was distracted and didn’t even have a chance to protect them…”

“Are you really upset about the nuts?” you chuckled.

“No, more of an injustice…I was hoping we’d split the nuts fairly between the three of us, but Carl ruined it,” Lottie rested her head on your shoulder sitting on your lap.

It was so damn sweet. The way Lottie loves you. There’s often tension between sisters, but not in your family. Charlotte was born when you were 13 and that’s a really big difference, but you always wanted a brother or sister. And even though sometimes you had to miss seeing your friends to take care of Lottie when Mom and your stepfather, your little sister’s father, were working late, you still loved Charlotte with all your heart. Although it’s hard not to love her. She had a mild-mannered personality, rarely acted cranky, and sometimes acted like a little adult. At least you were a more rambunctious child at her age, according to your mother and other relatives. Only as you got older did you become a calm and peaceful person, and as a child you could afford to kick the asses of the boys who hurt you in junior high school. Charlotte, on the contrary, preferred to solve conflicts peacefully and disliked violence already at the age of ten. The age when children can be really violent, but your sister was not. Now, however, she seems to be really angry with Carl. But it’s probably because of all the stress you’ve both been under for the past three weeks. Everyone’s been on edge right now. That’s the way the world is now.

“I’ll find you some new nuts in the woods,” you said, stroking your sister’s soft hair.

“You’re afraid to go into the woods,” sighed Lottie.

“I’ll ask Glenn or Amy to come with me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask Daryl? “Lottie looked at you in anticipation.

Oh, that’s right. Daryl. Well, that was a bit of a problem.

Then.

You tugged at Lottie’s arm, who was stumbling at almost every step. The walkers were coming faster and faster. Your courage and confidence were running away from you just as fast. But you did not let go of your sister’s hand and kept moving forward.

“Y/N!” the little girl’s shrill cry echoed throughout the forest.

You turned around and saw one of the walkers grab the hood of Lottie’s sweatshirt. A tall man with a rotten open wound near his collarbone, with gray cadaverous skin, white eyes, and rotten teeth and nails. Death itself came closer than ever to you and your sister. And you had no idea what to do.

“No! Let her go!” you screamed in panic at the walker as if he could understand you.

“Y/N!” large tears flowed down the little girl’s cheeks.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the worst. You knew it would happen sooner or later. From the moment your neighbor ate your mother. From the moment your stepfather John set himself up to feed the walkers two days ago so you and Lottie could escape. Since the world died. You knew you were going to die, too. And your ten-year-old sister, who didn’t have time to live. It has to happen, whether you’re ready or not. But you are ready. Death has taken over the world now, and who are you to fight it? You just hoped that you and Lottie wouldn’t have to suffer and…

With a dull thud, the arrow pierced the forehead of the walker that had grabbed Lottie and he finally fell to the ground dead. Lottie threw herself into your arms without thinking, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist and sobbing into your chest. You looked around in incomprehension until you saw a man with a crossbow. He put down the remaining three walkers with the remaining arrows. Clearly and without missing. Like he’d done it every day before the outbreak.

Man paused, looking at you and Lottie sobbing in your arms, and then without a word walked over to the corpses to pull his arrows from their skulls. Right now, however, you didn’t have the strength to say a few words. You didn’t have the strength to say a barely audible “thank you” for saving your life. The man looked at you, chewing his lower lip and without saying anything, lowered his head and walked away as if nothing had happened now. It would have been nice to stop him. But you were still standing still.

Now.

Daryl was sitting on a log outside his and Merle’s tent on the outskirts of the rest of the camp. He was cleaning squirrel blood off his arrows and hunting knife. Well, thanks to him, the camp wasn’t starving. Lottie and Sophia didn’t like eating something cute like squirrels, but there’s no choice. And while you weren’t thrilled about it either, better squirrels than the inedible berries you and Lottie had been poisoned with before you got to camp at the quarry. It was… unpleasant. You almost silently approached his “Dixon den,” as Shane called the tent of the brothers who preferred to stay away from the main group. But for an experienced hunter and tracker like Daryl, it wasn't hard to hear the branches crunching under your feet. Of course he noticed. Daryl turned toward you, where you froze for a moment between the bushes and snorted.

“What do you want, girl?” he asked, staring again at the dirty arrow in his hand..

“Hey,” you smiled shyly and moved a little closer, not noticing the vehement protest on his part. “Am I interrupting you?”

“If I tell you what you’re doing, will you leave?” Daryl didn’t look away from his work, still not looking at you.

“I don’t know…I guess?” you shrugged uncertainly. You didn’t want to annoy him, but you had promised something to your little sister. And yourself too.

“So what do you want? A chat? That’s not for me,” Daryl shook his head.

“I wanted to ask you for help to be honest,” you pursed your lips as you always did when you felt uncomfortable.

“Try it,?” Daryl finally lifted the piercing gaze of his gray-blue eyes to you and you felt even more uncomfortable.

“Take me with you on your next hunt,” you blurted out, deciding it wasn’t worth beating around the bush. Not with Daryl Dixon.

“No,” he answered immediately and went back to cleaning his weapon.

“Daryl, please,” you insisted. Not that you expected him to answer any differently. “I need to learn at least the basics of wilderness survival. You probably remember the state you found me and Lottie in in the woods…I can’t let that happen again.”

“Why? You’ve warmed up to a camp with people who can handle weapons. Just stay close to them,” Daryl snorted.

“I’m not stupid, Daryl, I realize this isn’t forever and sooner or later we’re all going to have to separate. When that happens, there’s no one to protect Lottie but me,” you sounded more determined than usual. Of course, it took a few days to pull myself together. “So I’m asking you to help me. Teach me how to track prey and how to tell poisonous plants from edible ones. Please.”

“Look, you’re sure of yourself, huh? Coming in here and making demands like I owe you,” Daryl was starting to get annoyed, it was obvious. He didn’t like the way you were being pushy, asking him for something like you had a right.

“I’m not making demands, I’m asking for help,” your confidence began to wane after his words. Daryl didn’t know you well. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have had the nerve to call you cocky. Or just at least a little bit of confidence.

“I’ve already helped you out on my own head…I won’t do it again, you’re not a goddamn charity case here,” Daryl chuckled.

“Okay, then what do you want in return?” you asked firmly.

The question wasn’t about your curiosity about wildlife, your life and your little sister’s life depended on you. Your only family. This is not a case where you can afford to back down and give up.

“As if you have anything to offer,” snorted Daryl dismissively.

"What would you want?" you asked, hugging yourself tighter around your shoulders in a protective gesture.

Daryl's right. What the hell could you offer him? In this current world, money has no value. Not that you had a lot of it, but it was the first thing you thought of out of habit. Then what? Daryl is an excellent hunter who has all the necessary survival skills and is good with a gun. That's why you asked him for help and not anyone else. Shane could teach you how to shoot, which would undoubtedly be very useful in the current circumstances, but it's not enough to survive in the woods without a group. Not without someone like Daryl, who is as well adapted to life in the wilderness as you could tell from a week of knowing him.

Back to the question, what could you offer him? What would Daryl Dixon want?

"I want you to talk less and get back on your own," Daryl squinted looking at you for a few seconds and then lowered his head again. The conversation wasn't going well.

"Why did you save me and my sister in the forest? Why did you bring me here? We might live a little longer being in a group, but when this is all over, we're both going to be eaten, so why did you have to build up to this moment?"

Daryl was silent. Like that day a week ago before he brought you to camp. Really, why did he do that? He felt sorry for Lottie. A dirty little girl, messed up to death. You didn't look like you really tried to save her during the walker attack and Daryl wondered why. How scared were you? Didn't believe in your own strength? Did you want to die? He didn't know. But he knew for sure he wasn't going to let a child be eaten alive by a rotting reanimated corpse. Not in this world. Would Daryl have helped you if you were alone in the woods? He wasn't sure. You seemed resigned to your situation and didn't try to escape, so why would he rescue you?

He already did anyway. And dragged you both to the camp. And then that same night he had a fight with Shane, who wasn't sure about the idea of leaving you here. And he got a good laugh from Merle, who thought he was being too kind to someone in the Dixon family. But you don't need to know that. You're lucky it was Daryl and not Merle who came across you in the woods. You'd be wandering around the woods now, rotting from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to eat anything alive. Just like your sister.

"Your sister needed a place and I helped you, that's the whole story," Daryl only nodded his shoulder.

"Why?" you persisted.

"Damn it, girl, what are you babbling about! I helped you, who cares why?" Daryl frowned and abruptly stood up from his seat in a flash of anger.

"I just..." you cringed at his loud tone and backed away slightly.

"Stop bugging me with this, okay? I saved you and your little girl, that's it! That's all you're gonna get from me, you understand? I don't want to teach you anything, I don't need you, save yourself!" Daryl waved his hand, yelling at you and you didn't even realize why you pissed him off so easily.

You looked at him frowning in incomprehension. Why the hell is he yelling at you for no good reason? And looking so angry, like you'd done something terrible to him. You didn't understand Daryl Dixon and his mood swings. That's why you tried to stay away from him, especially the first couple days. You were grateful to him for saving you, but he didn't seem like someone you'd easily connect with. And Daryl had just proven that to you again. You only came to him with the request because no one else could handle it but him. But apparently he's really not interested in this at all. You didn't want to and couldn't force him. You just hoped that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as rude and aloof as he seemed at first glance. After all, he wouldn't have saved you if he was the way he showed himself to others. You'd just have to find a way to approach him and then maybe something would work. But now you weren't so sure.

"Well?! Don't look at me like that, get out of here!" he shouted one last time, turning away from you.

You snorted disappointedly, and after staring at his back for a few seconds, you turned around and hurried back to camp. You were mad at Daryl, that was for sure. Just like Lottie was mad at Carl, but you had a better reason than a handful of nuts. And you might have wanted to yell back at him, but not that it made sense. You'd learned to control your negative emotions a long time ago, and you weren't about to let years of self-discipline go down the drain because of Daryl Dixon. That's on him. Maybe you'll try again later when you've both cooled down, but definitely not in the next few days.

Daryl was difficult, but you have to find an approach to him. Not for your own sake. Certainly not for him. For Lottie. For the chance to prolong her life as long as you could.

Then.

“Hey!” you followed the stranger after a few moments of daze.

You almost lost sight of him, but he wasn’t trying to be quiet, and you could still hear the sound of his footsteps on the leaves on the ground. So as soon as your body began to obey you again, you followed him, holding Lottie’s hand tightly in yours. The man didn’t stop no matter how many times you called out to him. How rude. But in the present world, one didn’t think much of it. And you didn’t know him, but he wasn’t exactly friendly before the end of the world. And yet, you stopped the man from grabbing his wrist when you caught up with him. He turned around and looked at you with a frown, immediately pulling his hand from your barely perceptible grip with force. You seemed to have hit something wrong.

“Thank you,” was the first thing you said when he finally paid attention to you.

“Forget it,” wheezed the man with the familiar Southern accent you never got in the ten years you’d lived in Georgia.

“What’s your name?” you persisted.

“Go where you’re going,” the man snorted and turned away again to walk away.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” you said before he could get a few steps away from you and Lottie, “I…I mean we have nowhere else to go.”

The man stopped for a moment without turning around, as if thinking about something.

“Do you live somewhere? Somewhere with people? You’re the first person I’ve seen in a week…I mean of living people,” you stared at his back without stopping to speak.

Hope flared in you. If there are still people alive, then you and Lottie have a chance.

But the man didn’t answer, only turned to glance at you. Your tangled hair, tied back in a low ponytail, your dirty knit sweatshirt over your once-white T-shirt, your mid-thigh jean shorts that were also dirty and torn on the side of your left leg, your broken knees with blood on them, your worn and dirty yellow sneakers. He looked at the little girl next to you. She had big eyes like yours. And while yours looked at him with weariness and a mute request you still hadn’t spoken aloud, hers were full of fear. Her long hair, braided into two pigtails, was also disheveled, and twigs and dry leaves were sticking out of it from the fact that she had been on the ground under the walker that had tried to eat her. Her denim overalls were stained with the rotting blood of the living dead, and the hood of the sweatshirt she wore over the rest of her clothes was now torn off. There was only one rubber boot on the girl’s feet, the other having come off in the process of escaping from the walkers. The man thought it must be very uncomfortable to run around in rubber boots. The girl held your hand and appeared behind your back, gingerly looking at her savior.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” said Lottie quietly, pressing her cheek against your hand.

Y/N. The man mistook you for this girl’s mom. A very young mom. But it seems that wasn’t the case. Although the two of you had enough outward similarities to think you were related to each other.

“Do you have a place to stay? Please…we’ve been walking through the woods for three days without food or water,” you asked quietly.

The man looked at you with a piercing stare and was still silent. But he didn’t stay silent for long.

“Please,” Lottie said even more quietly, looking out at him from behind you. And then he gave up.

How could he refuse to help a little hungry girl in one rubber boot.

“Follow me,” he said, looking into your eyes for a second, and then turned and walked on, expecting the two of you to follow him.

Of course you both did. Now the hope in your heart is much brighter.

[rins1cle]

Random Poseidon headcannons I thought about while re-watching Poseidon's and Sasaki's fight.

(Editor note: This is mixed crack, platonically and romantically ���)

- He would probably eat a mannequin than show emotion tbh

- Probably smells like pool chlorine and fish shit

- Dude would have the nastiest breath known to the solar system like think of Shrek when he farts in the water. I feel bad for humanity fighters ngl.

- His hair probably smells like a dead bay.

- Man would give you a 'fuck you' note and call it a confession

- Beware of kissing this man, he probably would bite your lips off mid make-out.

- Let's be real if you some how managed to get him to simp for you, good luck congrats you managed to read through the impossible quiz that his his courting scheme🤩.

- Dude would give you gifts at the most random occurrence and or advice like the most out of pocket advice (less on the gifts for platonically).

- If you somehow managed to be besties with this man he would defo let you ramble about random shit.

- I feel like he's the type to buy a shit ton of aquatic plushies and memorize them all by name.

- Y'all would study together (aka Poseidon just berating you for not knowing smth).

- You could off handedly mention smth about what you like or a hyper fixation, expect smth related to that to be at your door with in an hour. He would deny buying it even up on his deathbed.

Øff topic but like I just realized Poseidon gives like the upmost toxic tsundere known to exist bro.

- he hate sit when you eat fish or any seafood infront of him and will sulk for the next century about it.

- Is the type to react like "FUCKFUCKCUKCUCJSHITHSIT-" when he realizes he's in love with someone.

- Would send you a facebook 'Good Morning' image.

- If you compliment anything about him, expect it to amplified by 100x the next time you see him.

- If your getting something from a cabinet or smth similar, he would do the thing where he covers part of the cabinet with his hand to save your head from impact. The moment you ask him about it he would just olay it off as gentlemanliness. (this man has no gentlemanliness bffr). Would laugh at anyone else if they hit their head on smth and call them pathetic.

- Coffee addict and workaholic.

- If you ever wanted this man to hang out with you, you would need to physically drag him out of his office.

- I have a gut feeling he has like either a 12+ step skincare routine or he used a 13 in 2 and calls it a day 💀.

- Imo, this man is a 9/10 for looks but a 2.5/for personality, dude has the same amount of personality as my right big toe.

- Big family man.

- He would totally buy you expensive jewelry no matter what you say about the price.

-Would break your wrist if you try to pay for the bill.

- Is embarrassed about his partheon.

Alr my brain has no more juice-

[katsu28]

Hey, Kait, congrats on 1K!! You deserve it so much!!! Can I have a 🍭 from prompt list 6, #23 "the stoic one - somehow managing to evoke a laughing fit in the baby" with Topper Thornton, please? Thank you so much in advance!!!

thank you love, i appreciate you so much!! so sorry this took so long but i hope you enjoyy <3

dad!topper thornton x reader, 1k, parental guilt (not sure if that needs a warning but just in case lol)

There weren’t very many times when Topper felt like a complete failure as a father. And even that wasn’t much, considering he’d only been a father for a little over six months, but he’d never felt as inadequate as he did right now. Gracie had been screaming, crying, bawling her eyes out for the past hour, and despite trying anything and everything he knew how to do, he couldn’t get her to stop. 

He’d never been so happy to hear the front door open in his life, because it meant you were home from the grocery store and could finally help him out of the rut he’d dug himself into. 

You appeared in the doorway seconds later, his beautiful, gorgeous savior and resident Gracie whisperer. “Oh boy,” You chuckled sympathetically, setting the bags of groceries down on the far end of the counter before coming to kiss Topper’s cheek. “Someone’s having a rough time right now, aren’t they?” Topper knew you were talking about Gracie, but he couldn’t help but feel that your words also applied to him. 

“She won’t stop crying, sweetheart, I don’t know what to do anymore,” He said miserably, dragging a heavy hand down his face. He felt guilty even though he knew he didn’t have to be, because you always took the challenges of parenthood in stride, never once complaining or expressing frustration when things took a turn. And here he was, not even able to get his baby girl to stop crying.

Your lips pressed into a thoughtful line, and you squeezed his bicep reassuringly before letting your feet take you to one of the kitchen drawers, which you rummaged around in for a few seconds before procuring something you kept hidden behind your back so Topper couldn’t see it. 

The object you presented to Gracie was something he never would’ve expected. A spoon. A small, white, seemingly normal plastic spoon. Topper’s eyebrows furrowed, but Gracie halted in her hiccuped sobbing instantly, reaching out for the spoon eagerly with the beginnings of a two-toothed smile on her face. You tapped it against her nose one time, then once on each cheek, and she burst into laughter, high pitched, gurgly baby giggles echoing through the room. 

“Hi, my Gracie girl,” You cooed, bumping the spoon against her hands, her feet, her knees, all while she shook with laughter. “You’re a giggly little thing now, aren’t you? Yeah, you’re feeling better, huh?” Gracie gurgled in response, grabbing for the spoon with a renewed sense of purpose, seeming like she’d already forgotten that she’d just been bawling her eyes out mere seconds ago. 

“I rocked you, I showed you around the house, I sang to you, I let you chew on my fingers and pull at my hair and snot all over my shirt, and you’re mesmerized by a spoon?” Topper asked, gawking at Gracie incredulously.

Not understanding a word he said, she only continued to laugh and squeal with each light tap of the spoon on her body, wiggling around in her baby seat on the counter excitedly. Those laughs got even louder, squeals even more gleeful when she managed to grab the spoon out of your hand, waving it around without aim and grinning profusely the whole time. 

You clocked in on the defeated look on his face when you glanced over at him, pressing a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head before padding back over to slide your arms around his waist. 

“Hey, I know that look,” You hummed, smoothing your thumb over the crease between his eyebrows. It disappeared at your touch, but Topper still felt disheartened. What kind of father was he if a spoon could console her, but he couldn’t?

As if you’d read his mind, you brushed the hair that had fallen over his eyes away from his face, bringing your hand around to cup his jaw, and looking him right in the eyes. “You’re a good dad, Top. A great one. Don’t let this make you think anything otherwise.” Topper’s shoulder sagged, head dropping into the crook of your neck defeatedly as his palms splayed over the small of your back. “Gracie loves you, honey, you know she does. She’s just…adjusting. Y’know, teething, growing. Discovering she has feet. Baby stuff.” 

“I know. I know that, but I just—I can’t help but feel that I’m doing everything wrong.” 

“You’re not.” You replied firmly, pressing your forehead against his. He tried for a weak smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. “I mean it. You’re not doing anything wrong, okay? Being a parent is hard, but you’re doing your best and that’s all that matters.” 

“How do you always know what to say to me?” Topper sighed, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. You merely hummed in response, opting to kiss him back instead of using actual words. 

“Da-da.” 

Topper’s head whipped towards Gracie, then back to you, then back to her, eyes wide in disbelief. 

“Did she just—” 

“I think she just said—” 

“Da-da!” There it was again, clear as day, accompanied by another giggle and wave of the spoon. 

“Is that—did she just say her first word?” He breathed, brows furrowing. 

You smiled warmly at him, internally thanking your daughter for choosing the exact right moment to lift her dad’s spirits. “I think she did.”  

Topper hurried over to the counter, scooping Gracie out of her seat and cradling her in his arms carefully, all while peppering kisses all over her face as he brought her back over to you. She laughed joyously, burrowing in closer against Topper’s chest as close as possible. 

“First word at six months, that’s my smart girl!” He cheered, smiling so big his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Oh man, I gotta go tell Kelce! I bet his kid can’t even sit up yet!” 

“Topper,” You chided, aiming a pointed look at him. "it’s not a competition.” 

“No, I know, sweetheart, I was just joking.” Topper sighed good-naturedly, looping one arm around your waist to bring you in closer to him and Gracie. “But if it was, Gracie would totally be winning.”

[corroded-hellfire]

So I loved your “Love Comes Walking In” fic. I read it every day! For your celebration, I was wondering if you could do like them planning a road trip, but it's all chaotic. Maybe there are elements of angst, but then it ends with fluff? I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, lol

I love your work, and I can't wait to see your future projects! Congrats on 2k followers 💕

Honestly, when I wrote the first part to this, I wasn’t sure if they were going to get together or not. So thank you for requesting this and giving me a chance to figure them out! And thank you to @munson-blurbs for all of your help 💚

In the same universe as Love Comes Walking In

Words: 6.8k

The long-awaited day had finally come and was now coming to an end. It had been a long day. Waking up at the crack of dawn just to get to school early – without forgetting your cap and gown – just to practice walking down the aisle of meticulously placed folding chairs on the football field. Of course there were some stupid people in your graduating class, but you weren’t sure they needed to actually practice their walking to a seat. 

Then the ceremony itself seemed to take forever. Outside in the hot June sunlight, sitting in a sea of students in green robes and probably not one of them paying attention to Principal Higgins drone on. Some of the students probably didn’t even listen when Nancy Wheeler went up to speak as valedictorian, but you did. And you knew all of your friends were paying attention to her as well. Her speech was eloquent, kind, and above all, full of optimism. Nancy tended to be a glass half full kind of girl and she’d even managed to rub some of that off on you. 

Robin is one of the first to walk across the stage and get her diploma. Jonathan was not too far behind her. Then the list grew boring, people you’ve known for years but never really cared that you wouldn’t see again. Jason, Chrissy, Vickie. Although you did get along well with Vickie and if she and Robin were headed in the direction you thought they were, you probably would be seeing more of the redhead. 

Then came the name of your favorite person. Someone who has waited longer than anyone else here for this moment to finally arrive. You see him sitting in the row ahead of you, unruly hair somehow tucked into the green cap. Right before his name was about to be called, he turned his head and smiled at you. He shot you a wink and it felt like it suddenly got twenty degrees warmer outside. 

“Edward Munson.”

There were cheers from the stands: hellfire buddies and Wayne. And probably your parents.  There were cheers from the students: hellfire buddies, some other friends, and you. The three-time senior bounded up on the stage and when you saw him shake Principal Higgin’s hand instead of flipping him the bird, you looked into the stands and saw Mike and Lucas exchanging money, having bet on if their Dungeon Master would actually go through with his threat or not. 

You were so caught up in watching the proud beam on his face as he took his diploma and headed back to his seat, that you almost missed your own name. Luckily, you’re snapped back to attention and stood from your seat and made your way to the stage. There were cheers for you as well. The same group from the stands, probably Steve too, and the same group among the students as well. But there was one exceptionally loud cheer that you heard above all the other noise. 

Eddie.

His vociferous shouts had you grinning from ear to ear as you accepted your diploma and headed back to your chair. Eddie caught your eye on the way and gave you another wink. It’s a good thing you weren’t wearing heels, or you definitely would have stumbled on the artificial grass. 

Things with Eddie were good. Ever since the night of prom – real prom and your own special prom – you and Eddie have been closer than ever. As touchy feely as Eddie was before, it seems to have kicked up a few notches. His hands are always on you, or his arms are always draped over you. And though things have been headed in a positive direction, it still hasn’t gone as far as you want it to. There have been no admissions of feelings, no kisses. But it seems like the two of you flirt with each other more and more every day. 

Even now, at the graduation party you’re attending at the Wheeler’s, his arm has been around the back of your chair the entire time. The sun is setting now and most everyone finished their food that Ted Wheeler barbequed on the grill. 

“You guys leaving tomorrow?” Robin asks and takes a sip of her soda.

“Bright and early,” you confirm. 

“Now, where are you going?” Steve asks. He leans in on the table, forearms bearing the weight. 

“Not sure,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Plan is to drive east until we hit the ocean. After that? Who knows.”

“In the bucket of bolts?” Robin asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“Good thing I’ll have a mechanic with me,” you say, nodding your head at Eddie. 

“How long will you be gone?” Nancy asks.

“Depends where we go,” Eddie says. “We’re planning on two to four weeks, though.”

“You’re going to come back either married or hating each other,” Vickie says. 

“Could be both,” Steve says. “My parents are both.”

“And on that happy note,” Eddie says. “I should get going. Gotta finish packing and get some sleep. Am I dropping you off?”

“Yes, please,” you say. 

Hugs are given and goodbyes are said before you and Eddie head out to his van so he can take you home. 

The first thought that runs through your head when your alarm wakes you up is I am not in school anymore, why the hell am I getting up this early? But then you remember why, and it gives you the boost of energy you need to get out of bed. Weeks out on the road alone with Eddie? The perfect way to kick off the summer, in your opinion. 

You had packed your bag the night before so all you had to do now was throw on some clothes, put your hair up in a messy bun, and kiss your parents goodbye before bounding down the driveway to Eddie’s van. He throws the back door open, and your stomach does a somersault as you see the thin air mattress that the two of you will be sharing for the foreseeable future. Both of you had reasoned was there was no reason to spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars staying at motels or hotels on your trip when there was more than enough room for both of you to sleep in the back of the van. You definitely had an ulterior motive though, becoming giddy just at the thought of laying pressed up against Eddie every night. 

Eddie tosses your bag in the back with his before helping you up into the passenger’s seat like the gentleman he is. The two of you had been looking forward to this trip for weeks, and in the meantime, Eddie had been making mixtapes of what he deemed the best road trip music. Whether or not you agree is still up for debate. 

With no set destination in mind, Eddie pulls onto the highway that’s headed east and the van drives towards the rising sun. 

“Is there a particular beach you wanted to go to?” Eddie asks once you’ve been driving for a few hours.

“As long as I can see the Atlantic Ocean, I don’t care,” you say. Neither of you has ever seen the ocean before, so going to a beach was the main thing you wanted to accomplish on this trip. Well, the main thing you and Eddie had discussed, anyway. You were hoping to finally figure out if Eddie actually had feelings for you or not. If being crammed together in the same van for almost a month together didn’t get you some answers, you doubt you’d ever get them. 

“What do you want for lunch?” Eddie asks.

“You hungry already? It’s just after noon.” “Hey, I am a growing boy, thank you very much.”

You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re almost twenty-one, Eddie, don’t you think you’ve stopped growing yet?”

Before the question even finished coming out of your mouth, before you saw his eyebrow quirk and the mischievous smirk grow on his face, you knew the dirty joke was coming. 

“What can I say? I’m a grower, not a show-er.”

In the past, you would’ve just laughed or groaned at one of his many jokes about his anatomy. But now that you’ve been flirting more and more with one another, you feel emboldened to make a joke in return. 

“That’s what all guys with small dicks say.”

Eddie almost swerves the van off the road, jaw dropping open in surprise. “I’m gonna make you fucking walk!”

“Alright,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “This was fun. See ya later.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and Eddie makes a complete one-eighty.

“No!” he whines. He reaches over for you and secures his fingers around your wrist. “Don’t leave me! I swear, I shall make it up to you somehow. Let me prove myself.”

Keeping a faux haughty attitude, you re-buckle your seatbelt and yank your wrist from Eddie’s grip, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How will thee prove thyself?”

“I will slay any dragon we come upon this journey.”

“So, if we go in the ocean and there’s a shark…”

“That is not a dragon.”

You huff out a laugh as you lounge as far back in the seat as you can. When you close your eyes, Eddie reaches over and smacks your thigh a couple of times.

“Ow?”

“Wake up, I’m still hungry. What do you want?”

Eddie’s in a considerably better mood once he’s got a burger and some curly fries in him. You’d stopped somewhere in Ohio at a little burger shack right off the interstate. There was a nice breeze coming off the nearby lake, so you decided to enjoy the fresh outdoor air and eat at a picnic table. It beat the stale, smokey, boyish odor in the van. As gross as it was, you’d come to like the smell because it reminds you of Eddie. But it’s also nice to give your lungs a rest. 

Both of you feel a little stiff as you get back in the van, muscles tight from sitting so long on the drive. Eddie begrudgingly lets you pick the next cassette to pop in and you came prepared for this exact scenario. Just behind your seat is your purse, and you scramble your arm back to get it. The sound of plastic cases clicking together fills the van as you plop the bag down in your lap. Rifling through your collection of tapes, you think how Eddie would feel about each of them. This early you feel you should still be somewhat nice to him with your choice of music. Because if you pop in Madonna now there’s nowhere to go but down if he pisses you off later. 

Selecting the perfect one, you snap open the case and pull the cassette out. Eddie cranes his neck to try and see what you’re putting in, but you remind him to keep his eyes on the road. Making sure to put the correct side up, you slip the cassette into the player. A crash of glass sounds from the speakers before the opening notes.

Friday night I crashed your party

Saturday I said, "I'm sorry"

Sunday came and trashed me out again

“Okay,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Could’ve been a lot worse. I can deal with Billy Joel.” 

Giving him a triumphant smile, you begin to sing along and dance the best you can in the confines of the seat and seatbelt. 

I was only having fun

Wasn't hurting anyone

And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change

Eddie’s thumbs are tapping the beat along the steering wheel, smiling over at you every once and a while as you bop around to the song. 

People had tried to warn you that a road trip sounds fun in theory, but sitting in the car for hours could make you go crazy. And maybe it’s only the first day, but you’re enjoying this time with Eddie. Time to sing along to the music together, time to talk about the stupidest shit that nobody would understand but the two of you. 

“Oh, shit. Look!” Eddie says as a Billy Joel tune fades out.

“What?” you ask, looking out the front windshield, trying to figure out what’s got him so excited. 

“That sign said Kecksburg,” Eddie says, like this should mean something to you. 

“What’s a Kecksburg?” you ask.

“Seriously? What kind of nerd are you?” Eddie asks as he checks his mirrors to move over to the right lane. “Kecksburg, Pennsylvania. In 1965 there were reports of a UFO and then the army came and took something away.”

You look at him incredulously. This he could remember. But when you were tutoring him for Mrs. O’Donnell’s class, he couldn’t even remember the right decade the revolutionary war happened in? 

“How did you finally pass history?” you ask him.

“Hey,” he pouts. “If there were aliens on the Mayflower, I would’ve listened.”

“I assume we’re going to this Kerkburg?” you ask as Eddie takes the exit off of I-70. 

“Kecksburg,” he corrects you. “And yes!” 

“Tell me the name of the first secretary of treasury in the US and I won’t complain at all at this UFO thing,” you say. You raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. 

Eddie chews on his bottom lip as he maneuvers the van around the world’s slowest Chevy Impala in front of you. When you come to a red light, he starts to drum his fingers on the steering wheel as he thinks, the beat sounding rather close to It's Still Rock and Roll to Me by Billy Joel.

“Wait, shit, I know this!” A grin splits Eddie’s face and the sight makes your tummy go all fuzzy like you inhaled a few chutes of champagne. “Alexander Hamilton!”

You nod your head, impressed by his correct response. Eddie wasn’t stupid – something you have to remind him of often – he just didn’t care enough to memorize some things.

“I have to concede,” you say. “I am impressed, Mr. Munson. Usually no one knows that dude; I think he’s getting lost in history.” 

“Wanna know how I know?” Eddie’s smirking now.

“Of course.”

“He’s on the ten-dollar bill,” Eddie says. “Most common bill I get at deals.”

The giggle that escapes you didn’t even give you a chance to hold it inside. 

“You just stare at money, huh?” you ask. 

“Best thing to look at besides girls and the D&D board.” Eddie’s van puffs out a loud and dark plume of smoke, which would make you concerned if you didn’t see it happen on an almost daily basis.

“I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve stared at any of those things,” you say. 

“Okay, boys in your case,” Eddie says.

“Do I stare at them often?” you ask with a laugh.

“You stare at me,” Eddie says, a self-satisfied smirk creeping onto his handsome features.

“You probably had another pretzel in your hair or something.” The excuse is the flimsiest, and you know that, but your heating cheeks had you scrambling for something to say.

“Eh, I stare at you too,” Eddie says with a shrug. It seems like the most casual thing in the world to him; to just come out and say he looks at you a lot. 

That’s the end of the conversation though, because Eddie parks the van in front of a sign that advertises a tourist trap appealing to those interested in aliens. And your crush certainly fits the bill.

Keeping true to your word, you don’t complain the entire time you’re there. You listen to story after story about that December night in 1965 when the UFO was spotted. You learn it looked like an acorn with some hieroglyphics at the bottom of it. But mostly you watch Eddie. He’s transfixed by the stories, staring wide eyed, taking in every detail the volunteers give him. The wonder in his eyes gives you a glimpse of what he must’ve been like as a child. Innocent, pure, curious. 

It’s dark out when you’ve finished touring the small part of town dedicated to the unexplained phenomenon. Eddie’s giddy as you walk back to the van, hands in his pockets and a pep in his step as he goes to open the passenger door for you.

“Wasn’t that cool?” Eddie asks as he jams his key into the ignition.

“Yeah,” you say, not entirely lying. Some of it was pretty cool. “You believe it?”

“Hell yes,” Eddie says as he pulls out of the parking spot. “I think it’s pretty narcissistic to think we’re the only beings who exist.”

He pulls back onto I-70 and says to look out for places to grab dinner. A few miles down the road you see a billboard for a diner, so Eddie takes that exit. Neither of you are sure what you want to order, so you end up ordering three different appetizers and sharing them along with milkshakes: vanilla for you, chocolate for Eddie.

It’s a cute little diner. The 50’a theme is bright and shiny and the waitstaff have been nice. The sky-blue walls and the cold, vibrant red booths are enough to keep you from the sleepy feeling you’ve been fighting since you arrived. 

“Wanna call it quits for the night?” Eddie asks, munching on a fry. “Find the next rest stop and park there?”

“Uh huh.” You’re cut off by your own yawn and you rub at your tired eyes.

The next rest stop is seventeen miles away and as soon as Eddie finds a spot to park for the night, you’re both out of the cab and stretching out your sore limbs. You grab his and your toiletry bags, tossing his to him as you walk towards the building. He goes into the men’s room and you into the women’s. It’s weird brushing your teeth in a public restroom, but it’s life on the road. 

Once you’re both done and ready for bed, you feel the butterflies waking up. This is the part you’ve been looking forward to the most. Screw the beach, you want to lay with Eddie. You get back to the van and Eddie holds open the back door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says with a dramatic bow.

“Make sure to keep an eye out for dragons,” you say as he closes the door behind you, giving you privacy to change into your pajamas. You switch roles and wait patiently outside while Eddie undresses. When he’s finished, you’re stuck to your spot on the asphalt as you see him wearing only a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms, hung low on his hips. It’s not like you’ve never seen him shirtless before; of course you have. But that doesn’t make it any less breathtaking to see. Plus, you get to curl up to him like that. You’re pretty sure winning the lottery wouldn’t even make you this excited. 

Eddie offers his hand to you and helps you back in. He closes and locks the door and the two of you are immersed in darkness. Eddie flicks on a flashlight so the two of you are able to get situated on the air mattress. Your bags are stuffed around the small available space in the back, and you pull a blanket out of yours. Eddie came prepared with the pillows, so it was only fair you brought the covers. 

Scooting yourself so you’re closer to Eddie, you drape the fuzzy blue blanket on the top of you both. Eddie lays back against his pillow and you follow his lead. Shoulder pressed to shoulder, you can feel his body heat through the thin material of your oversized t-shirt. 

“Want me to turn the light out?” Eddie asks. 

“Yes, please.”

You’re both plunged back into the blackness, eyes trying to adjust as you search for each other’s faces, only inches apart. Eddie’s hand sets out to find yours and when he links your fingers together you feel like you’re going to pop out of your skin with so much giddiness being pumped into your system. 

Eddie turns on his side and you copy his actions, coming face to face with him. Part of you hates that it’s dark because you can’t see all the adorably sexy freckles that dust over his nose and up to the apple of his cheeks. But part of you is happy for the darkness because it’s harder for Eddie to tell you’re blushing as he stares into your eyes.

“You comfortable?” he asks.

“Very.”

“Too warm? Too cold?”

“Just right. Just call me Goldilocks,” you say.

He chuckles and presses his nose up against yours. It feels so natural, even though you’re pretty sure your faces have never been this close before. 

“Sleepy?” Eddie asks.

“Just a little. Was a good day, though.”

Eddie hums in reply, his eyes drifting closed. Using a boldness that you didn’t know was inside of you, you lean forward and tuck your head under Eddie’s chin. By the way his muscles move against your head you can tell he’s smiling. That makes you smile in return, but you feel even more of a thrill when he wraps his arms around you, holding you against his bare chest. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbles above you, already sounding half asleep.

“Goodnight, Eddie.” 

Waking up in Eddie’s arms is instantly your favorite thing in the world. Forget music and kittens and books. Starting the day with your head on Eddie’s naked chest, arms wrapped around one another? Nothing could possibly beat that. 

You’re awake before him so you just stay where you are, ear pressed right over his heart so you can hear every pump of the ventricle. It’s a comfortable temperature in the van, and Eddie’s warm skin against you has you curling into him.

As you lay there with him, your eyes slipping closed as you trace a finger over his ribs, Eddie’s stomach makes a loud grumble. You’re unable to contain your giggles as the sound echoes through your head where it rests on his body. The shaking of your shoulders as you laugh wakes Eddie up, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. 

“Wha’s so funny?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Yeah. Why’s that funny?” 

You turn your head so your chin is resting gently on his sternum, looking up into his dark sleepy eyes. His hair is all mussed and the cuteness of it makes your heart swell.

“Your tummy’s rumbling,” you say. “S’pretty loud.”

Another growl booms through his abdomen and you can’t help but giggle again, your head falling forward to bury in his chest. Eddie splays one of his big hands over the top of your head and lifts it up. 

“I gotta pee, too,” he says. “So, get your ass off me.”

Instead of doing as he says, you do exactly what he would do to you if the situation was reversed. You push yourself up, swing one leg over his body, and sit on his lower abdomen, putting pressure on his bladder. There’s a brush of something hard against your ass but you do both of you a favor by ignoring it. 

“You bitch,” Eddie groans, making you laugh. He wraps an arm around your waist and flips the two of you so that you’re pinned beneath him on the air mattress. This way, you feel that something hard against your leg, and your attention is divided between that and the fact that Eddie’s face is only inches above yours. There’s a fluttering in your own stomach as Eddie’s eyes dip down to your lips before looking back to your eyes. 

“D-Don’t you have to pee?” you ask. Eddie keeps staring at you for a moment before his eyes break away and he nods.

“You’re lucky,” he says in a mock threatening tone, and he climbs off of your body.

While Eddie takes his clothes into the rest stop bathroom to get ready for the day, you change in the back of the van, your heart racing at the memory of how close the two of you were. Mind wandering, you think about the hardness pressed up against you, how you could have easily reached down and –

“Decent in there?” Eddie calls, banging on the back door of the van.

“Uh, yeah,” you call back. The door opens on squeaky hinges as you shove your pajamas back into your bag, clearing your throat and trying to shake the memory from the front of your mind.

“You gotta go?” Eddie asks as he packs his own things up.

“Nope.”

“You sure?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “I don’t want to stop in a little while because you have to pee.”

“Please,” you say with a scoff. “I’m not a child.”

Eddie rolls his eyes endearingly at you as he hops out of the back of the van, offering a hand to help you out as well. “Alright, let’s go. We’re heading to a gas station ‘cause I need to fill up. And grab a breakfast burrito.”

“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll go in and grab them while you pump the gas,” you say as you get into the passenger’s seat. 

“Deal.”

The breakfast burritos are surprisingly good as you travel further East down the interstate. There’s not a whole lot of traffic this morning, which is good since Eddie is only driving with one hand, eating his food with the other. Some cheese drips onto his shirt, but that’s not surprising. 

About two and a half hours into the drive – and a whole Metallica cassette later – you start to squirm in your seat and Eddie glances at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Christ, you have to pee, don’t you?” he asks.

“Okay, it’s been like three hours!” you say, making Eddie roll his eyes.

“There’s a rest stop in twenty-six miles,” Eddie says, nodding to a sign you’re passing. “Can you wait that long?”

“Yeah, Dad,” you huff. 

“Don’t try and get sexy with me,” Eddie says, making you laugh. You shoot your arm out and smack him on the arm.

“Don’t make me laugh or I won’t make it!”

“I swear to God, I will pull over and make you go in the trees,” Eddie says.

“I can hold it!”

“You better.”

The van doesn’t even come to a complete stop and you’re unbuckling your seatbelt, moving to unlock the door. You can hear Eddie chuckling under his breath as you both get out, and you look back over your shoulder as you speed walk towards the bathrooms to see Eddie pulling a cigarette out of his pack and taking the pause in the drive to stretch his legs out. 

Of course, the bathroom was out of paper towels so you’re wiping your hands on your shorts as you head back out to the van. Your sneakers skid to a stop once you reach the sidewalk, though. Eddie’s leaning against the van, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. There’s a girl standing in front of him, blonde wavy hair hanging over her petite shoulders, a pretty blue sundress blowing in the slight breeze. She’s giggling and reaches up to touch Eddie’s arm. Despite it being around ninety degrees outside, the blood in your veins turns to ice. Every moment between you and Eddie since prom suddenly seems meaningless. All the feelings you thought he might’ve had for you shrivel up and die in the heat of the June afternoon. It feels worse than heartbreak, it feels hollow, as if there’s no longer a heart in your chest to break. 

Watching as Eddie ducks his head and looks up at the cute girl through his dark eyelashes, it’s a struggle to keep the breakfast burrito down. You realize you’re frozen to your spot, people darting around you as they try to get to the bathrooms or vending machines in the small rest area. Unwillingly, you take a few steps closer to the van, determined to walk around the other side of it so you don’t have to be spotted. As you get closer, you notice the girl’s large blue eyes and you can’t help but draw a comparison to the sweet cheerleader you used to be painfully jealous of. 

“I’ve never been to Indiana,” the girl is saying in her syrupy sweet voice as you make your way between the van and the black Honda next to it. 

“It’s nothing special,” you hear Eddie say. “This is my first time in Pennsylvania, but I have to say I’m really enjoying it so far.”

The temptation to keep walking past the van and straight into the woods beyond is strong. That way you don’t have to get into the van with Eddie after this disgustingly painful exchange you’re hearing. 

“Are you staying here long?” the girl asks.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Eddie says. “But plans can change.”

That’s your breaking point. You yank open the passenger side door and climb inside, making sure to slam it behind you as hard as you physically can. The reverberation causes Eddie to stumble forward a few steps, his arms flailing as he tries not to fall flat on his face. What a pity that would be, you think to yourself. He turns his head over his shoulder towards you but you’re not looking in his direction to see if he’s glaring or looking at you in confusion. Doesn’t matter. The voices are only a rumble from where you’re sitting but you assume they’re saying goodbye since Eddie opens his door and climbs inside.

“What was that?” Eddie asks. “Forget your own strength, She-Hulk?”

“Sure,” you grumble as you buckle your seatbelt. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you before he puts the van in reverse and pulls it out of the parking spot. As he drives away, you catch a glimpse of the girl he was flirting with watching the van and you fight the strong urge to give her the middle finger. Instead, you cross your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Something happen in the bathroom?” Eddie asks as he pulls back onto the highway. 

“No,” you say, staring out the passenger window.

He’s silent for a few minutes before trying again. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to guess?”

There’s no point in fuming in silence. You’re going to be stuck with one another for a few weeks so what good would it do to hold the anger inside?

Licking over your lips, you turn to face him and let your hands fall back into your lap with a loud slap of skin hitting skin. “You were flirting.”

Eddie’s eyes dart to you before focusing back on the road. A confused expression comes to his face and for some reason, you want to smack it off him. 

“And?” he asks. 

Fury bubbles up in you so high that you’re surprised flames aren’t shooting out of your mouth like the wyvern tattooed on Eddie’s tricep. 

“And? And? Are you fucking serious, Eddie?”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says, voice lifting to reach your volume. “What’s your problem?”

“Just can’t help yourself, huh? Can’t let a pretty girl walk by without saying hi, right?” The response you’re hoping for is that you’re a pretty girl, but of course, that thought doesn’t go through his head. 

“Okay, she came up to me,” Eddie says. “But that’s beside the fucking point. Why am I not allowed to flirt? We’re not dating. You can flirt with whoever the hell you want, too!”

“Yeah, Eddie,” you say with a scoff. “I was really going to chat up the seventy-year-old who smelled like gasoline and beef jerky that was eyeing me on my way back from the bathroom.” 

Eddie’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and his rings digging harshly into his skin. “Why are you so fucking pissed off, huh? You’re acting like you’re my girlfriend.”

The tears that fill your eyes feel like a betrayal of your own body. You’re thankful Eddie can’t look at you fully as the water keeps building, the dam of your bottom lids barely enough to keep it back. 

“And that would be such a tragedy, right?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and Eddie turns his neck to quickly look at you, shifting in his seat as he looks back to the road. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, a touch of panic in his voice.

“Oh, calm the fuck down,” you tell him as you rise from your seat and push yourself into the back of the van. You curl up against the back of the passenger’s seat, tucking your legs up to your chest and resting your forehead on your knees. Here, the tears can leak out and you can still keep a shred of dignity. You tuck your arms around your legs tightly in your best attempt to keep your shoulders from shaking as the tears come heavier and harder. 

Eddie remains silent from the front seat, and you wouldn’t even care if he turned around and brought the van back to Hawkins. The road bumps along under the tires and you’re jostled as you let the pain drip down your face. Did Eddie really think it would be so bad if you were his girlfriend? Was all the flirting and amped-up touching all in your mind these last few weeks?

You stay back there, the both of you silent, for two hours. Eddie turned on the radio at one point, and the staticky stations coming in and out were the only sounds in the hollow van rumbling along the interstate. When you start to shift from side to side in your spot behind the seat, you assume Eddie has pulled off the highway and is now taking smaller roads. The van eventually comes to a halt and your body jerks up against the passenger seat at your back. 

Eddie kills the ignition and hops out of the van. Your head perks up and you crane your neck to try and see where he’s going, but he’s moved out of sight. The back doors swing open, making you jump and twist your head, squinting at the bright light that’s streaming in. Eddie standing there, framed by the doors of the van before he hops in and crawls his way over to sit across from you. He gently reaches over and rests a hand on your knee. 

“Come on,” he says in a soft voice. “Talk to me.”

Avoiding his eyes, you shrug your shoulders. He sighs when you remain silent. 

“Sweetheart, please talk to me.” Eddie’s almost pleading as he tilts his head to the side. When you shake your head, he scoots until he’s sitting next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I’m not going away. I’ll keep being an annoying thorn in your side.”

“So, like always?” you mumble under your breath, making Eddie huff a laugh. 

“Alright, come on,” Eddie says, shaking your shoulders gently. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

Releasing the tension of the last few hours in a sigh, you lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder and squeeze your eyes closed. Though the tension is released from your muscles, a thick ball of anxiety settles in your stomach. There’s no avoiding it anymore. It’s time to come fully clean about everything. Your feelings, your jealousy, all of it. But before you do, the question that’s been burning a hole in your tongue comes out.

“Have things been different between us since prom?”

Eddie’s arm tenses around your shoulder and you brace for the worst. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“I just feel like something changed since we had our own prom. Am I wrong?”

“No,” Eddie says with a sigh, and the sigh makes your stomach drop to the floor of the van. “I wasn’t sure if you felt it, too, though.”

You pick your head up from Eddie’s shoulder, whipping it to the side to look at him. “What? Why not?”

Eddie shrugs and takes his arm from around your shoulders, resting both of his hands in his lap. “I don’t know. I guess that you didn’t act any different towards me, so I thought it was all in my head.”

“Eddie,” you say with a frown. “I didn’t act any different because nothing about the way I felt changed.” Eddie nods and you realize he thinks you mean that you didn’t acquire feelings for him. “No, no, Eddie. I mean nothing changed because I…because I already felt that way about you.”

His head snaps up to look at you, a crease line between his brows. “What way?”

The heat of the summer day has nothing to do with the flush that comes over your body, settling primarily in your face.

“That I, um, well, that I lo–.”

“I love you, too.” 

Shock was not something you were accustomed to feeling, but it’s the only word you can put to the feeling that runs through your veins. Your wide eyes are staring deep into Eddie’s brown ones, the pair of you staring at one another as you sit in the warming back of the van. 

“You what?” Your voice sounds small, even to your ears. 

“That’s what you were going to say, right?” Eddie asks. “I mean, saying I have a crush on you seems too weak for what I feel, so I know it’s love. E-Even if that’s not what you were going to say…”

“No, it is!” you hurry to assure him. “I love you. I love you so much.”

The grin on Eddie’s face makes you feel like all the fighting and all the times your heart ached over him were worth it. His face lights up and without a doubt, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

“I love you, too,” he says again. Your heart rate ticks up when Eddie’s eyes dip down to your lips, and just as he’s about to lean in, a flapping at the opening of the van scares you, making you grip Eddie’s shirt.

A seagull landed right on the bumper, tilting its head as it looks at you and Eddie huddled up together. It’s only when you take in the bird before you that you hear the cries of other seagulls and the crashing of waves on the shore. Inhaling, the scent of saltwater greets your nose, and your mouth curves into a smile.

“We’re at the beach?” you ask.

“We are,” Eddie confirms with a smile. “Would you like to get out and see the ocean for the first time?” He scoots towards the back doors, the seagull flying off when he gets too close for comfort, then holds his hand out for you. Once he’s helped you out, Eddie still doesn’t let go of your hand. He laces his fingers with yours as you walk around the van, the large blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean coming into view. 

It’s breathtaking. It didn’t seem logical that there was something this big in the world. Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you against his side as you both stare in awe. The afternoon sun was overhead, casting the shadows of your two bodies on the sand just feet away from you, at the edge of the parking lot. 

“Wanna go put our feet in?” Eddie asks and you immediately nod in agreement. Both of you kick off your socks and shoes, throwing them in the back of the van before Eddie closes the doors. The sand is hot between your toes, which has you hopping down towards the water, Eddie laughing alongside you as he does the same. The sharp contrast of the hot sand to the cold ocean water makes you let out a squeal and grab onto Eddie’s arm. He grins and steadies you in his grip.

“Well, we did it,” he says. “We’ve been in the ocean.” 

“Alright, back to Hawkins,” you say.

“Yep,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “That’s all we wanted.”

A wave rushes the shore, water breaking against your shins, making you giggle. Droplets splash up, coldness dotting the bottoms of your thighs and Eddie’s shorts. The warmth of Eddie’s fingers grips your chin and turns your head to face him. You look up at him questioningly right before he leans in and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle, sweet, and not even the cold water of the ocean can quell the heat that burns through your body. A giddy giggle escapes you when you part, Eddie giving you an adoring smile.

“I could stay here forever,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” you ask. “I could stay here until it’s time for bed. Cause then I get to cuddle up next to you.”

Eddie lets out an overdramatic yawn, making you laugh.

“You know,” he says. “I think I’m getting pretty sleepy myself.”

Another wave rolls in, crashing hard against your legs and splashing you both all the way up to your faces, cold droplets pelting you.

“Well, that woke me up.”

[mondaymelon]

congrats on 500 followers melon!!! since you're technically supposed to be celebrating, i won't request anything unhinged (yay!!!)

could i request a vanilla-scented, blue & white envelope, jealousy, and⚡, sincerely kazuha?

thank you so much in advance, almighty and omnipotent melon, my favourite xiao simp in the entire world <3

i...i got carried away writing this. enjoy the extra length, rei!! love you ♡ enjoy ✩ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

To the beloved one who reads this,

How do you fare? The wind tells me such things, but the tongue of the breeze is one that takes decades to master.

...Hm, alright. I'll stop now. I'm sure you're already wondering what this is all about. Haha, you didn't expect me to write you a letter, did you? Or perhaps you did. You know me well, perhaps too well.

As for why I'm writing this... I can't say it's my first time doing such an act, but it's certainly filled with anticipation all the same. Yes, I do have your number, but I wouldn't want to bother you with such selfish frivolities, would I? That's why I came up with a solution, this letter, the one you're holding in your very hands and reading with your very eyes. That way, once you're free, you can read the words I'd like to speak.

Now then... ah, how should I begin this? I've explained my reasons... so I suppose I should begin to elaborate further.

...Although, that's quite the... awkward topic to delve into. It's rather selfish of me to wish to say these things to you... however, I feel like it's been a while since we've been able to, well, hang out. Just the two of us. There's always someone there, bothering every moment we have, disturbing the connections between us... ah, I've said too much.

Point is... is... is it okay to be selfish, just this once? As much as it shames me to say, or rather, write these words to you, I really detest it when they dare trample upon our precious time together. These moments are for us, and for us only, and for them to foolishly... ahem.

I suppose one could say that I'm jealous.

I, the always calm and collected Kazuha. It's strange how things somehow play out, isn't it? But then again, we've known each other for a long time, well enough to begin to show our true colors, so perhaps, in a way, this could've been expected.

I am certainly not proud of what I have said today... however, they leapt out of my hands and onto the paper. These words are true to my heart, and ones that I've wished to say.

Apologies for any disruptions I may have caused you. If you'd like, you can choose to ignore this letter. I understand.

That said, if you choose to consider... me... then, should we discuss times where we'd be able to meet up? I heard there was a new coffee shop that opened near downtown, perhaps we could meet up there? I've got quite the number of tales to share with you... best be prepared.

Then, I will await a response, if you will.

Thank you, and my apologies.

Sincerely,

Kazuha

(a/n) ohhh thank you dearest rei for sparing me from your unhinged wagner thirst i praise thee rei i praise thee

ANYWAYS I FINALLY GOT A REQUEST DONE!! i have ignored my duties for too long but i promise i'll try to get through every single event request !

find the event here! <- (finished)

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #157

1. Hello, first of all thank you for all your hard work 🫶 really appreciate! I'm looking for a fic i read about a year ago: unfortunately i can't remember much, so i apologise if it's a vague description. I also think i might be mixing some facts with this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39533883 so i’m sorry if i’m making it hard to find. Trigger warning from here on (depression, su! c!de): the fic was set in the crowley's flat and the characters were canon (im pretty sure it was set a short time after S1's canon events, but somehow C still had holy water). Crowley had just suffered some sort of physical and emotional trauma (r@pe? sorry, i can't quite remember) and couldn't trust neither Aziraphale nor himself. He fell in a state of depression and couldn't see any other way out but use the holy water in his safe. (Spoilers) | remember a scene where he weakly walked to the safe and wrote a note, then tried to reach the thermos but was stopped last second by Aziraphale. Thank you in advance🫶; and if you manage to find it, congrats😅 - anon

2. Helloo I hope it's not too hard to find but I lost a fic on ao3 a bit ago I didn't finish reading and was hoping someone recognise it, it starts off with post apoca-nope Crowley being confronted by demons in his flat who tell him to stay away from aziraphale and summon a screen through which to view him. buuut since there was no audio they all missed a conversation between aziraphale and god in which god gives him a golden string (I think) and explains that metatron has been giving orders independently from god, then asks aziraphale to go to heaven and stirr up trouble. And that's when I accidentally closed the Tumblr app and lost it :( - anon

3. so theres this fic i was reading where its post canon but basically crozira gets locked up in heaven and crowley does his snake thing and releases them both (was in the beginning ish) but thats all i remember 😭😭 im sorry if this is too much to ask for, thank you in advance!!! - @stars-v3ria

4. Hello! I hope y'all are doing all right in what I imagine is a swamp of new asks from season 2's approach. (Writing this in the final few weeks til release.) I'm writing in search of a lost fic--I've scrounged through the Aziraphale's True Form tag but come up empty. It was T, M, or E rated, and more or less a true form sex fic, but may or may not have included genital sex. The part I remember (which I think was the focus of the story, it being a oneshot) was framed as a divinity/grace kink scene in which Aziraphale revealed his true form to Crowley. It was overwhelming to him (verging on pain iirc), but also very beautiful, intense, and possibly sensual or sexual. The part I really remember, though, came at the end-- Crowley, crying, used their safeword, which was "Amen." And after that I think it was more on the tender side. Would you happen to have encountered such a story? Thank you very much for your time, and potentially that of your followers-- I very much appreciate all the work you do for the fandom. <3 P.S. In case this reaches the author, and you with to remain anonymous, please know that the fic really stuck with me and I was merely searching for it in hopes of leaving a comment to that effect. &lt;3 - @elderly-worm

5. Hello! I was recently told about the (cursed) movie script and was told that there is a fanfiction of Book and Show Crowley saving movie Aziraphale from movie Crowley. The person said they're sure they read it on ao3 but cannot find it now and I'm extremely curious. Any help would be very appreciated and thank you so much for the library you're doing here, helped me to find a lot of gems. - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[alovesreading]

hello, i hope you’re doing as well as we all can be. i just wanted to let you know that constant repeat literally changed my life. around a year and half (?) ago i was getting really depressed, anxious, and generally unhappy with…pretty much everything that wasn’t related to alex turner in some way. i have autism and his work (+ miles’s) is my special interest, so i know i’ll reliably be able to cheer myself up just a little if i’m doing anything involving them. one night at 4am, i was trying to find literally anything to keep me occupied so i wouldn’t spiral again. i somehow managed to come across cr. i’m not kidding when i say i read everything that was up (something around 12-14 chapters iirc?) before 6am. it became the reason i woke up every day, i just had to find out what ella and alex were up to and if they’d ever figure out how chronically in love they were. i won tickets to one of the am concerts in my area shortly after that and i reread my favorite chapters to celebrate. i watched all your life updates and chapter updates and i’ve been keeping tabs on you since. i gained more reasons to wake up (ie getting engaged) but i always come back to cr. 💚💚 much love to you.

(ps, sorry for any typos or silly formatting, it’s currently 4am for me. i just wanted to send good things your way with the way things have been)

Anon, this is probably the most special ask I have ever gotten. Nearly brought me to tears.

Constant Repeat was born out of a fight against the claws of depression while stuck working on the road for almost a year. Being in the truck month after month was draining, and the only thing keeping me sane was plotting silly fics on my laptop.

One of those fics ended up being Constant Repeat. I wrote so damn much in such little time, and I thought it would be so stupid to post it but with some encouragement, I gave in.

Never in a million years did I think any of my little made up stories would make an impact on anyone, at least not beyond entertaining people for a bit.

So reading this has just made my heart grow about three sizes in my chest. I’m so proud of you anon, for how far you’ve come and all that you’ve accomplished so far. I’m sending you a billion hugs and all the love in the world. And a massive congrats to you on your engagement!!!! 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you for your support, for being here, and coming back despite the lack of new content. I hope with all my heart to be able to put out something new for Ella and Alex’s story very soon.

Know that when next chapter comes, it’ll be dedicated to you.

Again, thank you for this. Wishing I could hug you through the screen, but I hope you feel the ghost hug while reading this 🤍🤍🤍

[subzeroparade]

I finished!!! With DLC and everything, now I’m a squid baby hanging out with the Doll for the rest of eternity. Super excited that my self-imposed ban on lore videos and fics are lifted, and now I can read!

Not to diss Elden Ring, gods know I love the Lands Between, but Bloodborne’s story just hits different. With ER it feels like it’s all a giant family squabble, but in Bloodborne it’s the collective human hubris that fucked everything up. The Great Ones in BB seem to be way more sympathetic and often victims of men’s actions, where in ER the Outer Gods appear to be more malevolent. Idk, it’s almost like Marika and the Greater Will is a success story of how to commune with the Great Ones properly and establish a mutually beneficial world order compared to whatever they were trying to do in BB. From a “all soulsborne games are connected” perspective it’s pretty neat.

With that said, I’m dying to know your takes on the lore. I’ve always felt in the beginning (the beginning of the game as well, to a certain extend) everything was your normal level of Victorian horror——vampires, werewolves, hunters, scholars that seek higher knowledge, but all under control and supernatural events were few and far between, known only to certain individuals. It’s only until the event of the Fishing Hamlet and the establishment of the Healing Church, or even after the schism of the Choir and the Mensis, that things went publicly tits up. Are you in favor of the events of the game happened in literally one night, or that Yharnam is stuck in a limbo? How long do you think has passed since the heyday of Byrgenworth and the event of the game (I want to say 30ish years based on Willem’s age and since he’s the only one alive from that time it’s a good time indicator. But then again is he actually alive? Extending his existence through unnatural means sounds like something he’d totally do)? Did our action really change anything? Did killing Rom allow the Mensis Ritual to succeed by weakening the veil and beckoning the Red Moon, or they were going to succeed/already did anyway and we were just breaking the illusions that everything is “normal”? Since the Healing Church is a new power (although how they managed to build so many grand architectures in such short amount of time is beyond me, the magic in this world is not known for its construction powers lol), who ruled Yharnam before them in your headcanon? I read theories that the Vilebloods were the ruling class before the Healing Church and they themselves have Pthumerian ties, which is interesting and adds another layer to the conflict between the Healing Church and Cainhurst. But I don’t know how plausible that theory is.

So sorry for my rambling, I just have so many thoughts in my head and excited to share them with you before I do the same in your comment section 😭 Anyway, since AO3 is back up it’s great time to start diving into BB fics!

Wow this sure is An Ask :’)

First of all, congrats on becoming A Squid! Enjoy godhood. 

The rest of this under the cut for length.

BB and ER are certainly vastly different in their storytelling. I remain a big fan of how the spectrum of ER’s themes run from Greek tragedy to medieval succession struggles. Personally, I find the familial plot points of it to be the most interesting - as well as the vast passage of time and sense of decay and mythology imbued in the world. Admittedly I don’t care as much for shipping in ER - outside of writing Godwyn/Fortissax, obvs - because the legacy and mythos parts of it seem so incredibly rich by comparison (hence why I don’t write BB characters as being related, as many people seem to - I burnt out on family drama themes writing for ER).  

BB, by contrast, is somehow very immediate in its history, in its active crisis, and it feels very grounded in humanity in a way that ER does not. In ER I feel constantly reminded that we are a shitty little lowly Tarnished and cannot pretend to understand the millennia that have past - even since the Shattering - or the scraps we’re now sniffing at in the wake of all that. But humans in BB feel close enough to the gods that they’re compelled to reach for them - scholars, clergymen, institutions, etc - only to realise the gods are crueler and more incomprehensible than even those of ER, while the consequences of their actions are significantly and viscerally more personal. ER has gods as a product of divinity and mythmaking, and BB has them, in a weird sense, as a facet of the Promethean impulse gone horribly wrong. If you really want to know my take on some of these specific questions, I’ve answered similar ones under the ask tag - but am occasionally cagey about some of these, because I use them for plot points in future fics. I’d rather a reader go in not being too familiar with my speculation, and that my conjecture is a means to an end (storytelling) rather than just info-dumping of “here’s what I think happened” - but that’s just my personal inclination. (Which is not to say I don’t appreciate other people’s elaborate lore speculation because I do, and there are some great and heavily-researched headcanons that I don’t always share but love to rotisserie in my head.)

As for what I can answer - 

Are you in favor of the events of the game happened in literally one night, or that Yharnam is stuck in a limbo? 

Semi-answered this in a previous ask here but since cosmic what-the-fuckery is pretty abundant otherwise, I like parts of lorecrafting to be pretty grounded in opposition to that - so I do believe Yharnam folk experience multiple nights of the Hunt, a rhythm of descent into madness influenced by the moon and the slow dissolution of the Church. I think dawn comes for them, but they know the next night will be worse, each new moon another instance of the city unravelling around them.  

How long do you think has passed since the heyday of Byrgenworth and the event of the game? 

Touched on this a bit here. This is based on the pacing I establish in my own writing, but I give the events between the Hamlet and the PC Hunter’s arrival about 50 years, give or take. 

But then again is he [Willem] actually alive? 

I think about catatonic rocking chair Willem like a potted plant on a windowsill. Decorative. 

Did killing Rom allow the Mensis Ritual to succeed by weakening the veil and beckoning the Red Moon, or they were going to succeed/already did anyway and we were just breaking the illusions that everything is “normal”?

Hammering this out for an upcoming fic, because I haven’t entirely made up my mind - also about whether the Moon creates the Dream before Mensis usurps Mergo’s Nightmare, or vice versa - or whether the two happen around the same time, and what their separate or overlapping goals are. I do think Mensis has different goals than the Church, to a certain point. I’ve had some pretty interesting discussions with mutuals about this (and feel free to share thoughts if you have). 

Since the Healing Church is a new power (although how they managed to build so many grand architectures in such short amount of time is beyond me, the magic in this world is not known for its construction powers lol), who ruled Yharnam before them in your headcanon? 

I tackle this with worldbuilding in The Feast We Were Promised, if you’re inclined to read it. Tldr: nothing exists in a vacuum, certainly not in a society with the kind of complexity demonstrable in Bloodborne, so obviously there was both a system of belief and system of government before the Healing Church politicked and/or strong-armed its way into power. 

As for cathedrals (and this is where being a historian by profession is pretty useful in worldbuilding): you could built pretty remarkable structures with pretty efficient timing, especially in the late 19th century. To use a nearby example of my own, Sacré-Coeur basilica at Montmartre took about 60 years from scratch in the latter half of the 19thc (as in there was nothing there before, no minor structure) and that’s considered long - it probably would’ve taken less time without the multiple wars and upheaval over that timespan. Likewise, a structure like Notre-Dame (the Paris one, not the Montreal one) underwent extensive restorations and additions in the 19th century, especially under Viollet-le-Duc (whose students would go on to do the same thing to gothic cathedrals elsewhere in France), but the baseline of the structure was already there - which is what I propose in the case of Yharnam: that much of the city’s civil and religious urban structure was already present (perhaps in the form of Pthumerian ruins in some cases). As in most European cities, buildings sometimes date from the Roman Empire and are gradually embellished, redone, or expanded upon over the course of the following centuries/millennia when funds are plenty and the ruling class is willing. If you think about what Haussmann did to Paris in less than twenty years, I imagine that to be the kind of equivalent of how the Church “cleans” up Yharnam and modernises it. But it’s my own preferred headcanon to imagine Yharnam was a little underwhelming before the Church’s public works; it could’ve also already been a splendid, thriving city.  (I did some work on Viollet-le-Duc's gargoyles like a decade ago, I highly encourage checking out his early drafts of them, they are remarkable images).

I read theories that the Vilebloods were the ruling class before the Healing Church and they themselves have Pthumerian ties, which is interesting and adds another layer to the conflict between the Healing Church and Cainhurst.

I touch on this in Feast a bit as well, but I think it’s really open to interpretation and you can make all kinds of convincing and interesting arguments about Cainhurst’s Pthumerian legacy. Again, on a grounded level beyond cosmic fuckery, I imagine Cainhurst and Yharnam’s larger territories have a centuries-old conflict a la English vs the French type of situation, and every skirmish and hostility arises out of this longstanding hostility and struggle over land and resources. I do think Cainhurst is tied to Pthumeru, though, via actual legacy, in a way Yharnam is not; and so I think Cainhurst would have claim to the labyrinths and the Healing Blood in a way that would threaten the Church’s supremacy in Yharnam and have ultimately kicked off hostilities, etc etc, until you get to the Cainhurst Massacre. 

All that to say enjoy your squidhood and any BB fics you read :)

[tunabesimpin]

Omg omg omg omg hi. HELLO HELLO, I BECAME A RECENT FAN OF YOUR BLOG. I really like your art style(especially the lipstick one) LOLOL and your ocs are really adorbs. TUNA & FLOYD = forever. And congrats on your milestonnnesssss!!! You deserve it 💪

I've been shying about the idea of sending you a art request (The sea-side party one) , cause like what if I mess up on it and stuff BUT I've finally gathered enough courage to send you it. ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Please don't force yourself to do this particular request if you're not feeling like it btw!

Soooooo................... MY SECRET IS THAT I STILL DONT KNOW HOW TO SWIM :( I'm too scared of the deep waters 😬 so I'd probably just be sitting on my butt while drinking my coca cola! I would be wearing an extra large white T-shirt with blue swimming trunks and some sunglasses 😎 cause I look like a total boss with them on! My favorite color is Periwinkleeeee!!

I would be drinking my coca cola then suddenly, I would probably be flapping in the air trying to pull away from Floyd's strong grasp, HE WAS GOING TO THROW ME INTO THE OCEAN??!!

"Wait a damn second! Floyd LEECH, im bein serious! Don't betray me like this!!"

"Fugu-chan can't just sit around doin' nothing at a party as fun as this! >;D"

And then Jade would come up from the ocean and promise to catch me, obviously I wouldn't trust his cunning dumb ahh!

"Floyd is correct, please loosen up and have fun, Prefect-san."

"NOOOOO, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SWIM YOU ROCKHEADS."

"In that case, I promise I will catch you. Oh, and wouldn't you want your sunglasses back? They happened to fall while you were flailing around. :)"

"....... SOMEONE HELP A PERSON OUT! ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ"

Hehe... I'm so bad at drawing that I just used picrew to give you a more accurate picture of my oc...

Her name is Jessica, nicknamed Fugu-Chan by Floyd! Shes a very energetic individual... (No worries about the ooc-ness, I would still love the effort and your generosity for doing this request.. JUST LIKE CROWLEY BUT BETTER!!)

YOUR SO COOL FOR DOING THIS BTTTWW ♥️♥️♥️♥️💩💩💩💪💪💪

--- Despite all of Jessicas plans of staying on the shore and pleas to the leech twins, she somehow still ended up being dragged into the ocean.

"Ahaha~! Don't worry Jade is in there somewhere~" Floyd proudly remarked as he carried Jessica over his shoulder. The water was no longer shallow enough to see the bottom, no less see any sign of Jade nearby. Jessica clenched onto Floyd's back as she yelled "No way! No way! He's not even close! Just bring me back to shore!!!" Floyd rolled his eyes, letting Jessica's words roll through one ear and out the other. He finally stopped in his tracks and pulled Jessica forward enough to be face to face.

Floyd gave a pout and frowned "You really want to go back to the shore?" Despite Floyd's puppy-like face, Jessica was firm "YES." A sinister smile got rid of any sort of faux innocence the eel had tried to show "Too bad~" Without warning, Floyd chucked Jessica into the air towards the sea. She screeched with all her might as she braced herself for the water.

"My my, have you no trust in me at all?" Barely a toe in the water, Jessica peaked an eye open to see Jade somehow managed to catch her. Jade shed crocodile tears "I must say it's heartbreaking you belived we would abandon you here." Jessica blinked, still processing all that happened. At the sound of Floyd's maniacal laughter she finally came back to reality "You two!!! I'm going to barbeque you i swear! Don't you dare drop me!" ---

>V< Thank you for the kind words aaa you're submission was wonderful I appreciate your understanding sm!!! The way you wrote too was so fun to read I just had to play off of it too!!! >O< <3 Thank you for participating in the event I hope you enjoy!!! ^^

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hiii congrats on 1.5k! ♡♡♡

I'm requesting for an option one:

✨so to participate for this one, all you have to do is give me a character from a fandom and why you picked them, and any information about yourself you want to give me, and i’ll write you a blurb and tell you why i think your chosen character would like you.✨

And I'm choosing James Potter simply bc his characterization on both fanon and canon is interesting in general. I love his sunshine personality, the sheer arrogantconfident attitude and the love and adoration he has for his friends (the man became an animagus for his bsf and died for his wife and child ffs),, and honestly the description "it was james who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it" that sold it to me. I also kinda have a thing for cute confident guys in glasses and messy curls maybe but let's ignore that

About me,, so I consider myself a stem girly (studied bio and I'm working in a lab atm), I'm sorta a black cat person, an introvert, and I have this tendency of keeping to myself most times, I'm consider the weird, chubby, quiet art kid bc i love arts (like doodling and sketching) and I also like singing along to songs when I'm working on things,,, I had like a phase where I kept changing hair colors monthly and my current style is a bit modernized vintage 70s outfits and casual corporate wear bc sometimes I like exuding the energy of a strong independent woman who can do great things bc I consider myself as one!!

I think that's all for me,, thanks so much and congrats again!! ♡

hi!

thanks for participating :)

(first of all, that’s one of my favorite quotes from atyd omg)

i think james would be drawn to you just because you’re a lot different than he is. he’d find you fascinating, and he’d make it a point to get to know you. he’s a very social and easygoing person, and i don’t think he does very well on his own. one of his main love languages is definitely quality time. but while i think he’s a social person, i do think he also gets a little burnt out. everyone relies on him to be the positive one, and it would be hard on him always being that person for everyone else when no one would be it for him. with you, he’d never feel like he had to put on a front. you’d be easy to calmly talk to and open up to, and he wouldn’t feel like he needed to entertain you or keep the conversation going. you’d be content to have a quiet day with him if he wanted one, and he would never say no to getting to spend time with you.

he would find your interest in art really endearing. whether that be in the way you expressed yourself through clothes, the songs he’d catch you singing to yourself, or your sketches you’d show him. james is a very talented person, but i don’t think he’s a very artistic person. so he’d think it was really cool that you were, and he’d always be up for hearing about it. he’d also think your interest in science is cool. he’s smart in a certain sense and gets passable grades, but being a top performing student isn’t really that high on his list of priorities. your education being important to you would show him that you’re really driven and hardworking, and he’d be really proud of all the effort you put into things.

—

he’d also definitely pick you as his partner in potions because of your skill in the lab.

he’d watch over your shoulder as you mixed ingredients into the cauldron, slightly bewildered at how nonchalantly you were reading through your textbook and brewing the potion with ease. every once in a while you’d look up and ask him to help you, or you’d explain what you were doing as you worked.

sirius would gripe from the adjacent table where he was sitting on his stool, in a temporary timeout from remus because he’d somehow already managed to fuck up their potion.

“it’s no fair! how come you get the good partner and im stuck with moony? he won’t even let me touch the cauldron.”

you’d chuckle, continuing to read through the instructions. “i wouldn’t either. i’m barely letting james help.”

“hey!” james would say, feigning offense as he threw an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll have you know i’m very helpful. one of us has to carry the ingredients all the way over from the shelf and back. what would my mum say if i let you do all the heavy lifting?”

“yes, how very chivalrous of you,” you’d tease, leaning into his side.

he’s grin down at you, passing you another jar of ingredients as he read the textbook over your shoulder. “i know. that’s just the kind of guy i am. i’m all about teamwork, love. a joint effort and all that.”

“sure you are, potter.”

you’d playfully roll your eyes, taking the jar from his hand. he’d continue watching in silence as you worked, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—

thanks again for participating! sorry this is a little short, i hope you enjoyed it :)

[kalee60]

Hey kel,

just wanted to show you my gratitude cause you're like one of the few folks in the fandom whose rec lists I follow diligently. Love your stucky fic recs <3 <3 <3

Well life happened - graduated colz, interned, managed to snag my first paying job..... so basically don't have as much as time as I used to. Hence why your fic recs are a godsend. I get to have my fill of quality stucky fics and discover newer authors that I somehow forgot to see in my perusal.

Why hi, hello nonnie 👋

Ahh - I feel like I should do my own fic rec list at some point, but there are sooo many good ones out there with writers I've never read and exceptional people spending time to compile these lists! So I pass on the ones that have some amazing fics I've never read before!

Honestly it's the main way I discover fics, I find I too don't have the time to just look through ao3 these days...

But yay! That's a HUGE congrats to you - finishing college, interning (so stressful) and then an actual real live paying job - massive milestones and also commiserations because... Yeah, unfortunately fandom and some of the real fun things are hard to squeeze in...

So good luck with it all - and I'll keep trying to do my part 😉