#ironically i play the black one more cause it has a better sound

[wigglys-dikrats]

this doesn’t relate to anything but i have both a white ukulele and a black ukulele and watching the witch in the web makes me feel a kind of way

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.

word count: 5.2k

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In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be. 

But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm. 

Not your warmth. 

So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more. 

The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes. 

Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath. 

You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive. 

Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release. 

You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts. 

Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . . 

No. 

No, no, no.

You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.

“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.” 

You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this. 

“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed. 

You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really. 

Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will. 

His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing. 

And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives. 

Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you. 

“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom. 

He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.

Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch. 

“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach. 

Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway. 

“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face. 

Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion. 

“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you. 

They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that? 

“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone. 

“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now. 

“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from. 

The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.

“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself. 

Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it? 

Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.

Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest. 

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’ 

He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away. 

He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch. 

“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth. 

“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak. 

“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips. 

And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer. 

You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence. 

He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . . 

And it was as black as his own.

The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say. 

The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here. 

The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom. 

A canary in a gilded cage. 

“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either. 

Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be. 

“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you. 

The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not. 

“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh. 

Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting. 

“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to. 

Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes. 

“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.” 

You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives. 

“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink. 

His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine. 

“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.

The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?

He looked as though he had won. 

It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right? 

Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices. 

“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom. 

He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts. 

“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you. 

He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins. 

The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.” 

Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat. 

“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough. 

“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him. 

Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .

Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now. 

“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying. 

He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient. 

“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in. 

You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . . 

So why did he look offended by your words? 

His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see. 

Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion. 

You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha. 

“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down. 

“Not yet.” You seethed. 

Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions. 

And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood. 

Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue. 

The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses. 

And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back. 

No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further. 

You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. 

You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead. 

You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him. 

And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat- 

“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been. 

Traitor. You were a traitor to your family. 

He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting. 

“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind. 

“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.” 

He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter- 

“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing. 

“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you. 

“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him. 

Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning. 

“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.” 

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

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[evagreen-stories]

The Forest Beauty | (Aemond x f!modern!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: time traveler decides to live her new life out in the kingswood, avoiding the new world she finds herself in until an encounter with a certain one-eyed prince changes her life.

Warnings: dark!themes, dark!aemond, obsessive!aemond, book!aemond, no intimacy (smut starts with part 2), intro and first part are kinda a slow burn to introduce the storyline & character

Non-Canon Storyline: 3 years post war – greens won, Aegon's only son was k*lled and only has two daughters remaining, he cannot produce more heirs, Helaena is alive but depressed,Aemond serves as prince regent ever since Aegon got injured during the war and is chronically sick and getting weaker, Aemond is to inherit the iron throne soon, Aemond k*lled Alys Rivers along with all other strongs, Aemond broke the betrothal to Floris Baratheon when he became Prince Regent and won the war (Also, I'm not a native english speaker, please be patient with me)

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< intro masterlist part 2 > (coming soon)

You wander around the woods, returning from another day of working in the city and coming closer and closer to your home when you start to feel uneasy, as if you’re not alone in the forest. You stop and listen, noticing the sound of footsteps close by. With careful steps you approach the sounds, noticing a head full of silvery hair between the trees and watching it carefully.

A man with an eyepatch, dressed in black leather clothes and carrying a long, sheathed sword on his hip. You monitor him carefully; his hands behind his back as he is gazing out into the treeline, he seems to be taking a stroll. But this deep within the forest?

You stalk him for a while, trailing his steps as you make sure to stay hidden. Too busy with staring at him you don't notice a branch on the ground, stepping on it and causing a loud *krack* sound.

The silver haired stranger turns around quickly, facing you and making eye contact. You know it's too late to hide now, as his lilac eye meets yours and a wicked smile forms on his lips

“Hello there, little one. Are you lost?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say, looking him up and down more closely now. He doesn’t look like someone that should be wandering this deep into the forest. You notice the tell-tale signs of a Targaryen. You’ve heard of them and noticed a few children with these features when you explored the street of silk once. But who exactly was this man standing in front of you right now?

His mouth twitches, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I am not lost, little lamb. Simply having a nice stroll to take my mind off the stress of ruling. May I ask who I have the pleasure of finding so deep in the woods?”

“No, you may not.” You answer, staying wary of the stranger. You’re starting to connect the emblems on his clothes and scabbard with the ones you’ve seen on royal guards patrolling the city before, this man must be one of the princes. “You should leave. These woods aren’t a place for a pretty prince like you.”

“My, my, my. So confrontational. Why the defensiveness, my beautiful little lamb? Are you hiding something?” He steps closer to you, his voice now has a hint of danger in it.

“No one wanders this part of the woods. You’re better suited closer to the city.” You say, trying to sound more polite than before, quickly understanding the prince might not appreciate the disrespect.

“Ah, yes, no one wanders this part of the woods. Well, that only makes me wonder how a pretty little lamb like you got herself as deep in here as I did. Unless, of course, you are not alone.” His eye leaves yours, scanning along the tree line before stepping closer once again.

“Relax, this is no ambush. Unless you keep on intruding on my space, then it just might.” You say sternly, hoping to play into his paranoia and get him to leave quickly.

“I do so wish I could believe you, little lamb.” His eye still scans over the tree line as his hand falls to the hilt of his sword. “How do you expect me to relax when a beautiful girl like you is all alone in the woods? You couldn’t have gotten this far without help.”

“I have. You don’t think all that dirt and tools on me are for decoration, do you?” You say, gesturing to the axe tied to your belt, knifes dangling off the bag you carry that’s strung over your chest.

“And what exactly did I catch you doing all alone in the woods, little lamb?” His voice is firm now, eye narrowing as he takes a closer look at you, trying to judge you.

You remain quiet for a few moments before deciding to answer truthfully. “I live here.”

“You live here, little lamb?” His eye scans over you once more. “YOU live in the woods?” His voice is filled with equal measures of surprise and disbelief.

“I do.” You say affirmingly. “And I’m not fond of guests.”

“A woman alone in the wild? No man to protect her? No family?” His disbelief is evident in his voice and expression. “I cannot imagine how a beautiful woman like you has endured out here.”

Upset at his words, you feel anger starting to boil deep inside of you. Women in this time are still property to be owned, another reason why you decided to live out here, away from society. “Cut the feigned sympathy. I live just fine out here.”

“But is it really living, little lamb? Living in the wild? Surely a woman of your beauty must desire the comfort and luxuries of civilization. Do you feel no desire to start a family, to have someone care for you and protect you?” His tone seems kinder now, almost caring, although his disbelief is still clear and you cannot shake the feeling of danger coming from him.

Suspicious at his invasive nature you raise an eyebrow. “What is this? A tea party to exchange gossip?”

“Oh no, little lamb. You are a most fascinating creature and you have sparked my interest. I am merely trying to find out more about who you are.”

“I’m not interested in conversation-“

“Now, now, little lamb, we’ve come this far already. It wouldn’t be very polite to turn down a crown prince like this.” His eye narrows, an obvious predatory hint in his voice as his hand tightens on the hilt of his blade. “It’s appalling for a citizen to turn down their crown prince, my dear little lamb.”

You tighten your jaw, nervous at the sudden turn this situation has taken but unwilling to comply with his orders. “I am not a citizen of yours-“

“Everyone is a citizen of mine!” His words are soothing with anger as his patience has reached its limit and he pulls the blade from its sheath. “Now come closer little lamb. I’ll help you back to the city where you belong, where it’s safe.” He begins to stalk towards you, his dark gaze fixed upon you.

You take a few steps back before you turn around and start running, using the the fact you know these woods like no other to lure him away from where your home is before skillfully outmaneuvering him in the thick forest, hiding successfully in a small cave. The silver haired man tries to follow you, you can hear him yell profanities and curse words as he struggles to keep up with you, eventually getting caught up in the thicket and falling behind. "Damn you!" Aemond shouts as he breaks free of the branches and finds himself standing in a clearing with no sign of the little Lamb in sight. Where the hell did she go? Damn this forest. Damn her.

He inelegantly shoves his sword back into its casing, taking a last long look around the scenery before begrudgingly turning around to make his way back to the city.

The rest of his day is plagued by thoughts about her, remembering every single detail about his encounter with this strange, wild little Lamb. She lives in the woods all alone, with no one to care for her? Surely, he thinks to himself, no one would truly want to do that.

She did seem awfully skilled at maneuvering the trees and avoiding my chase. Could she truly be completely alone? He wonders, staring into the lit fireplace of his chambers, his finger mindlessly tapping along the rim of the almost drained cup in his hand. His interest in the little lamb was definitely piqued. He would venture out into the woods to find her again once his duties allowed him to.

time skip / two weeks have passed

Things went back to normal after the encounter with the stranger, you didn’t see him again, but you did make sure to be extra cautious about your surroundings at all times, avoiding all travelers for the time being.

You’re sitting on a boulder in the river, only your ankles in the water as you sharpen your axe using whet stones from the river while waiting for the fish you caught this morning to finish smoking. You’re deep in thoughts as when you notice an unusual rustling of leaves behind you and catch a glimpse of the familiar silver head through the trees.

Here we go again.

The silver haired man had been stalking the Kingswood once again as he had done for several days since he encountered the strange little Lamb the first time. Searching for any hints as to where she lived, so that he could go back and speak with her again.

His hope was running low when then he finally saw her again, sitting in the river, tending to her tools. His heart skipped multiple beats, he couldn’t quite explain why he felt like this.

Still, she is the only one this far into the woods. No one around to protect her, just like when he had met her last time. This woman was a mystery he was most eager to solve. He slowly and deliberately stalked over to her, taking great care to be as sneaky and quiet as possible.

Even though you had noticed him immediately you keep focusing on your tool, pretending you hadn't noticed him as he approaches, hiding behind the last tree that provides him with cover before he would have to step out into the open.

"What is it you want?" You ask after a while, your voice loud and clear while your eyes are still focused on the task at hand. His attempts to remain hidden are more amusing than anything else.

The man was startled but quickly covers his reaction with his typical demeanor, standing proud with his hands behind his back as he steps out of the tree line and approaches the mysterious beauty carefully, as if trying not to startle her. She had quite a sharp ear. Although, he should have known better. If this little lamb had survived by herself in the woods, hearing the noises of the trees and animals was a skill she must have honed greatly.

Once he’s only a few feet away he stops abruptly, contemplating his choice of words before he speaks in a friendly yet stern manner. "You are quite perceptive little Lamb."

He remains quiet for a while. You’re still focused on your tool, not looking up, as you probe him further. "Speak. I know you've been following me for a while."

“I was simply fascinated with your lifestyle after our last encounter, that is all." He comes a few steps closer, enough to look at her properly, but not so close as to make himself a threat. "Why do you live out here, by yourself? Away from civilization and society?"

"Because I wish to do so." You say, now leaning forward to wash off the freshly sharpened axe in the river water.

"But is there no other reason little Lamb? You do not get... lonely? You do not yearn for society or friends? This forest is cold, dark, and dangerous." The mans voice seems filled with what seems like genuine concern for your welfare.

"The forests seem like that only to those who aren't welcome in them." You say, now looking up at him for the first time this conversation. "What do I get out of sharing my life story with you?"

Aemond's eyebrow quirked slightly at your words. Your words were not aggressive but they were not exactly kind or welcoming either. „You get to answer your crown prince a few questions that have been gnawing on his mind for a while. Who could say it wouldn’t be worth it?”

“I could say. The less people know about me, the better. Easier to stay hidden that way.”

Aemond stays silent after she says that, thinking over her words in his head. Stay hidden from what? From whom? What could make her feel that she must remain hidden... "Tell me, my little Lamb. Who are you hiding from?" Perhaps after finding out that one thing, he can put this obsession to rest.

"Men like you." You answer, now shifting your attention back to your tools, reaching back into the river to fetch out another whet stone to sharpen a big knife now.

"Men like me?" His eye narrows. " I am no threat to you. What could possibly have led you to believe that? You are alone so deep in the woods and I have not shown you any hostility... yet."

"No hostility?" You say laughing. "Chasing me with your sword was what then? A local friendship ritual I’m not familiar with?"

"Oh, I was simply trying to get you to stop and talk to me. That is all." He says, a small smile gracing his lips at her words. He found her laughter quite endearing.

“Didn’t work very well now, did it?”

"No I suppose not," His smile grows slightly, he finds this strange little Lamb's demeanor quite intriguing. He was never great at interacting with women, but this one seemed comfortable in his company, at least somewhat. Even if she was also incredibly untrusting and suspicious of him, or of men in general. He looks at her intently, savouring her smile as he knows his next words will wipe it right off her face again.

“I want to know more about you. I will not leave until you tell me more.” He says and as predicted, her cheeky smile gets replaced with a frown again.

“I told you, I won’t-“ he interrupts her quickly, almost pleading with her, “I know, I know. But I need to know. I cannot rest at night. I will not tell anyone about you. Whatever you tell me, it will not have any consequences, I swear it.”

You sigh deeply, pondering his words. You couldn’t care less for telling your story, the possibility of sharing too much lingering in the back of your mind. Then again, perhaps this is just what you needed. Sharing a bit of your true self with someone after having to carefully craft a fake persona and uphold it for the past two years. “Fine then. What is it you want to know?”

His eyes light up at that statement as he takes his time deciding which one of his many questions he should ask first. “Your accent, it seems out of place. Are you not from here?”

You immedily begin to regret your decision to talk to him, struggling to find a way to phrase the truth in a way it doesn’t sound too outlandish. “No, I am not. I come from a land far away, you wouldn’t know it.”

“Did you come alone?”

“Sort of. I came here with others but they… forgot me. Or maybe they are just unable to return. I wouldn’t know.”  You say, looking out into the flowing river as you remember.

“Forgot you? Why would your family just forget you?”

“They weren’t my family. They were… people I knew. We went here and they left, never to return, at least not until today. They probably told my family I died.” What had they told your family? You often wondered it. The changes of the seasons and moons made it easy for you to tell how much time had passed here, in this world. Did as much time pass back home? Was your family even informed of what truly happened or were they waiting back home for a sign of life that would never come, with no way of knowing your fate?

Aemond is quiet for a while, processing this information. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here two winters already, the coming one will be my third.”

“THAT long?” He blurts out, mind racing. “You have survived here alone all this time, out in this forest, with no family or friends? How?”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips, amused by his disbelief. “Yes, I have. I’m friendly with some of the farmers around here and some merchants. I was fortunate, really, that I was stranded here with a few tools and a bit of money.”

“That could not have been enough to make you survive here. The winters can be hard, as can be nature itself. I don’t know a single woman that would be able to survive like this even with all the tools in the world.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You shrug. This is your normal, all you knew for most of your life, you often forget just how unusual it really is. “I come from a family of farmers. We lived far out, away from civilization, and I learned a lot about nature that way. I am, or was, my parents only child. I spend many years of my childhood in the forest with my dad. He was an avid fisher and knew all the ways around the forest, while my mom taught me all about her knowledge of herbs. She was a healer of sorts.” 

Your smile returns as she recalls all her fond memories of home. Oh, how you wished you’d never left the farm. “They bred, trained, and sold horses too. I was strapped to a saddle on my own horse before I could even walk.”

His face shifts from one of shock to one of sympathy. He could tell by your words and the tone your voice takes that you missed home dearly. “And you have no way back?”

“No.” You state plainly. Do you? Truthfully, you do not know, but you surely hope you do.

“Why? If I give you coin for passage, can you go back home?”

“I’m afraid its not that easy.” You huff, struggling to make up an answer to this question. “Unless they come get me, I have no way back. I… I’m done talking about this.” You say, now shaking your head.

He wants to press further but understands he shouldn’t, not if he’d like to keep you talking. “Well then… What are you planning to do here then? You can’t just stay out here forever.”

“Why not?” You conter. “I’ve gotten comfortable out here. I know my way around the woods and can survive quite well out here. I’ve come to appreciate my little life out here quite a lot, actually.”

“Is this really life or is this survival? What about finding a family of your own, what about children?”

You sigh deeply. “I may not have answers to all those questions yet, but I do now I’m content here for now. I have no duties here, no bills to worry about. I just need to figure out my next meal and get to enjoy nature the rest of the time with all the peace and quiet it offers me.”

The change of topic strikes a chord in you, one you didn’t realise was as sensitive as it seems to be. The prospect of having to live out the rest of your days in this time is one that seemed more and more realistic and the question of what you would actually do for the next twenty, forty, sixty years of your life was one burning in the back of your mind more and more frequently.

“I’m done talking for today. You may leave now.” You dismissed the prince, frustration growing inside you.

He is not happy about this, his expression shows this as much as the tone of his voice. “Leave? I just arrived. You can’t just send me away.”

“I do not wish to tell any more stories.” You state. Just as he begins to talk again you turn to face him quickly, looking at him for a few seconds before proposing a compromise. Maybe you just needed some time to gather your thoughts and calm the inner turmoil you can feel bubbling deep inside your chest right now. “How about this: If you can find me again, I will answer you more questions. Anything you want.”

His jaw clenches as he lets out a long sigh. This is not how he wanted this conversation to end but he could tell from her expression that she seemed exhausted and the prospect of getting to ask anything he wanted seemed tempting enough to agree. “Fine then. I will seek you out again soon, but I will not rest until I have all my answers. You must swear you will not avoid me again.”

“I swear it.” You answer, a reassuring smile on your lips. “Have a safe travel back, my prince.”

She had been speaking so freely all this time that hearing her address him properly caught him off guard for a moment. He stands still in place, watching her a bit longer, before begrudgingly turning around to leave after bidding a small goodbye.

As he walks away you turn around slightly, watching the swaying of his silver hair until it disappears completely between the trees. A long, deep sigh escapes your lips as you resume your tasks for the day, thinking about all the questions he asked and what you really wanted from your life now.

You were honest, you did love your life as it was now, but sometimes the solitude did get to you as well. A craving for the love and closeness your family had brought you. As much as you cursed the prince when you had first met him, maybe having his attention on you could be a good thing after all.

He thought his mind would be calmed after speaking to her but to his dismay, the opposite had happened. His head is filled with questions still and worse so, genuine worry about her wellbeing. Yes, his little lamb had survived well by herself, but the confirmation that she was truly alone out there was deeply unsettling to him. When he is laying in bed that night, he realised just how little he knew about her. He didn’t know where she lived – did she have a house or did she sleep under the stars? He had never even asked her name. What would it be? If she is from far away, it surely was exotic.

He keeps tossing and turning that night, the picture of her smiling face filling his mind, even more so when he closes his eye, as if he can see even clearer when the world isn’t distracting him. He tries to sleep but he swears he hears her laugh, still as clear and comforting as it had been when he heard it the first time. A sound so sweet it could lull him to sleep, if only there wasn’t the gaping emptiness next to him, reminding him of your absence, of the fact you’re all alone out there. If something happened to you tonight, would he ever find out? He could not bear the thought of it.

His night stays restless. He falls asleep again and again, dreaming vividly about the way your cheeks rounded when you smiled at him, about the freckles on your nose, the small dimples that appeared under your cheeks when you smiled and over your lips when you pursed your lips in dismay at another thing he said.

It was improper, he knew that much. For a prince, the heir to the throne, to be so enchanted by a forest dweller. Nevertheless, his heart skipped a beat every time he had laid his eyes on her. His mind went back to think about all your interactions at every chance it got, even in the midst of important meetings. He was a devoted and proper man; he knew better and yet, something about her felt so fundamentally right that a future without her seemed wrong.

When the first rays of sunshine broke though his windows he had made his decision. He would go to see her again and this time, he would not leave her behind. He could not. He will find her and bring her – well, where? Somewhere, anywhere he knows she is safe, where he knows he can find her whenever he wants to see her. He will figure it all out, he will find a way to make this work.

His feet soon carry him through the castle, unaware of where he is going until he finds himself in front of two wooden doors. The kings, his brothers, chambers.

Currently editing the next part, that one will be 18+! Second series about Aemond x reader coming soon as well (currently proof reading chapter one)!

[corrupted-nightshade]

List of things that point towards Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru being kissers of boys with connections to eachother

(If they did kiss though is another story)

Note: the list will be divided into different sections with space in between. So don't go speed scrolling through if you don't want spoilers. :"3

Some of these are less serious, but are still included because all the more content for these two sillies.

--- Last updated: April 26th, 2024 Note: Make sure to check the original post if viewing a reblog version in case Tumblr does not update things under the "read more" like it used to be able to.

Various

572. This number is used frequently as a ship number for the two as "GoGe" the ship name can also be produced as "GoNatsu". Go means 5 and the rest sound similar to 72. These numbers ironically show up accross the series a few times and also in official merch. (Some examples being a clock in season 2 episode 1 stopped at 5 hours 7 minutes 20 seconds or a Gojo teddy bear priced at ¥57,200)

JJK official fanbook

"Q: Please tell us his first impression when he first met Geto. A: Bangs."

"Q: He seems to be aware that he is handsome, but doesn't he want a lover? A: I can't imagine Gojo being faithful to a particular woman."

"Q: Is there anything you are particular about Geto's character design? A: Bangs"

One of Gojo's songs & one of Geto's songs given to them. "Shame on you" by "Avicii" (a break up song) for Gojo and "Come back Home" by "Two door cinema club" for Geto. Stated in volume 3 chapter 24.

The sheer amount of times Geto shows up in MMVs for Gojo and how they display the impact Geto had on Gojo (For example, the latest MMV for volume 26's release)

Their birthday's solar terms tying in with parts. (Geto being "Risshun" beginning of spring & Gojo being "Taisetsu" heavy snow.)

Rings for them that were released on August 8th, which is "Pairing day" in Japan

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Jujutsu Kaisen 0

Geto's kesa is specifically a Gojo kesa

Gojo stating in 0 that

"I've always believed... ...Love manifests the most distorted curses." / "This is my personal theory, but there's no curse more twisted than love."

Even after 10 years, Gojo recognized Geto's smell. (The mall scene after Yuta & Toge fought the curse)

Geto renaming someone to "Sato" because

"That's what I've decided, so Sato is better."

This sunset scene

Gojo's veil is black & Geto's veil is white. Gojo's veil causes darkness, Geto's does not. [Peep who reminded me]

The song "This is pure love" not only plays over Yuta & Rika vs Geto, but also plays over Geto & Gojo's conversation

The way that Geto looks at Gojo & says his name, and how Gojo looks at Geto & says his name

Geto's blushing face at Gojo that we were robbed of in the anime

Some of the lines from the JJK 0 light novel lines

"Yet Gojo's bandage-covered eyes kept watching, kept following the shape of Geto's soul."

"But to Gojo Satoru, he was —— '————, ————' '...ha.' When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing [...] words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before. 'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.' December 24, 2017. The curse called Geto had been well and truly exorcised."

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Season 1

JJK Juju stroll

"Q: What kind of person is your type?" Gojo: "[...]The one who seemed nice. With the notable bangs."

yes, i know who he stated but the way he answered was so half arsed as he struggled to come up with an answer as an example of his type. 💀

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Season 2

Again, the way they look at each other and say each other's names (There's another picture with Gojo looking at Geto, but I'm missing it right now)

THE HECKIN GOJO & GETO VALENTINES CAKE??

They literally even have a themed honeymoon place???

Geto makes sure Gojo has his favorite soda. :3

Part 1 / volume 8 - 9

The intro for season 2 part 1

"Even after I got to know the smell of you, different from mine"

"In such a color as if it were a silent love"

"I've got a curse word for you stuck in the back of my throat"

The outro for season 2 part 1:

"Even trivial conversations are fine Show me your blushing face once more"

"It only exists here I want to touch you"

The fish in the outro

The flowers in the intro & outro. [Peep who reminded me]

The purple ones (Located on table in the part where older Gojo is sitting in a chair by a window) are possibly Primula/Primrose flowers. They can represent young love, beauty, desire, desperate, and can be a symbol of spring and renewal/new beginnings. etc.

The yellow ones (Located in the part where Gojo & Geto are sitting together with their hands & cans of soda surrounded by the flowers) are possibly osmanthus flowers. They can represent love, passion, happiness, beauty, etc.

[See here , here, here , here , here , here ]

Geto not answering Tsukumo Yuki's question of what kind of woman is his type more than once

When Geto is asked by Haibara if he would like a sweet or savory souvenir, Geto says

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

Part 2 / volume 11

This whole image (Geto in the glasses on the left, and Kenjaku's silhouette on Gojo's face on the right)

Season 2 part 2's "Specialz" intro hidden meaning

Despite the following about Geto's state, Geto's body still instinctively reacted to stop Kenjaku from hurting Gojo.

"Q: Fake Geto's arm was moving during the Shibuya Incident, but how much of Geto's consciousness remains in the body? A: Not much. He was moving like how a dragonfly whose neck was torn off can move."

Fun fact: Some owls pair/bond for life (Whether the owl is supposed to be Geto's because Kenjaku is using Geto at the time or it's not Geto's animal because that is Kenjaku is up to you)

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Volume 26

The Camilla flowers with snow. Not only do they represent Gojo well with their meaning, including one meaning being unchanging/strong love alongside modest love / beauty for pink, but flowers are given to different dates. The birth flower of February is this flower, said to bloom on the 3rd of this month. Aka Geto's birthday.

Chapter 236

Gojo actively chose to fight on December 24th (a day considered romantic for Japan) which is now the day both Geto and him have died on. Even Kenjaku acknowledges the days significance with

"Ha ha! How romantic. Isn't it gross to make plans with each other on Christmas eve?"

These lines

Both Gojo & Geto's volumes' numbers can have bad meanings in Japan. 4 can mean death & 9 can mean to suffer/agony. (I put this under volume 26's section because of the spoiler)

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There's likely more, but this is what we could think of right now. XD If you have anything you want to add on, feel free to send it my way because the more help the better & easier this is. (^w^ ) Same for any corrections to the list (as it's just me writing up this post and I may make slip ups)

[nietr]

so i started the deus ex franchise and started with the very first deus ex game as i've heard so much about the lore and gameplay in general

some say its the absolute best pc game of all time, rivalling even FNV despite its many flaws. What it aims for it absolutley nails, its just the game engine choice for such intensely simulation focused gameplay but at the same time its what keeps the game fresh 24 years later....

and i mean, sure the game takes place 2050 something, cant remember the exact date, and the UN has nowhere near the power it does in the Deus Ex universe but I could see how it COULD get together to drive some kind of global coup...

anyway what im getting at, long story short is that the game gets the beggining of the half century right, its just the figures are different groups then say, the UN. It's interesting seeing a game from 25 years ago focus so strongly on globalization, the driving forces and the outcome of a bunch of different groups with different ideas of utopian civs fighting, with in-group fighting on top of the fighting and just everything is pretty remarkably on point. its like those videos on how metal gear solid predicted the future in general, just a little better.

but anyway, the game is so good... im absolutely gripped and fully immersed in this world and this is a game from 25 fucking years ago.

rn im playing the revision mod tho, i just randomly chose one that looked good and didnt realize some of the problems with revision until it was too late but since this is my first exposure i have a different perspective and i think its an absolutely amazing reimaging.

its ironic, the first game i ever played on my first gaming PC that i had never played before when i built my first 1000+$ gaming PC around 2010 was fucking Black Mesa of all games cause i had never played Half Life and all i kept hearing was how it was the best game ever

now here i am, I done sold every part of my gaming PC for things i needed because im poor af now but i was gifted this barebones AIO desktop that can run games that arent too demanding on its onboard intel processor doing the same thing with Deus Ex since it seems in the PC Gaming community the absolute best PC games of all time go Half Life, FNV, Deus Ex and they're all contenders for no 1. all games i fucking love so much...

anyway im having such a hard time not spoiling the game on myself and its so hard because im becoming so immersed and want to know more and more and its like this time capsule of early 2000s conspiracy theory culture like things about the NSA people would say but sound crazy, ENDED UP BECOMING TRUE.

i mean, they fucking drop intel about the damn PRISM program, which im sure is defunct and re-bolstered under a different OP name.

[bumblebeescribbles]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

I was tagged by @thewritingautisticat!

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern

This will be a disorganized collection of both short stories, fan fic, and my current WIP. I don't have over 10 things, because I unfortunately lost most of them (': BUT I'll throw in everything that I have still!

Coaxing out those Painful Truths (family drama short story)

The blinking cursor taunts me. 

2. Unnamed gijinka Lorelocke for Pokemon Y

“I refuse to work with them, this has to be a mistake!”  The Surskit - what was his name again?  Dol?  Marrol?  It definitely had an “oul” sound in it - frowned, the black sclera of his eyes swallowing up the meager torch light.

3. Just You, Me, and this Heracross Between Us (a PMD fanfic)

For all their glamor and confidence, Olive finds working with rescue teams an annoyance. Especially when she’s waiting for them to get to the job briefing.  The mission she posted ages ago on the notice board.

4. stories upon stories upon stories upon memories (short story of an adventurer trying to retire)

There was only so much time I could spend solving an intricate and old puzzle to get into a dusty and cobweb covered library, to then be swarmed by a bunch of flesh eating spiders and be a meat shield once again, before realizing after that whole ordeal that in our battle the books destroyed in the battle were our only lead.

5. Strength and Other Disillusions (nuzlocke of Pokemon Black)

The sliver of moon claws against the dark black night sky.  Pinpricks of stars twinkle down on her.  Off in the distance, Venomoth wings slice through the thick summer air.  For the first time, Tess drowns in the silence.

6. Grave in the Woods (short story focusing on family dynamics)

Although this far into the woods, I was still reticent to consider forgiving Grandpa, even as we headed to visit his grave.

7. Juniper Wall (playthrough of Iron Valley)

After her attempts to be an adventurer, you would think her skills in preparing for weird weather would be better; especially after that one time Doppio malfunctioned and caused an ice storm to whirl out of their gears and cogs.

I seem to consistently start with either a character reflecting on their emotional state, but I'm definitely trying to lean more towards starting out with dialogue. Clearly 1/7 isn't the best rates but y'know

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Gentle tagging @twilabellas @rhyaxxyn @friendlyshaped @marigold-clouds @bard-coded <3 if I didn't tag you and you want play, go right ahead! :3c and absolutely no pressure to

[rebelquilled]

BROKEN COVENANT THOUGHTS/MUSINGS

general thoughts

neither neverghaasts or aspirants are defined by a species.  aspirants are merely those working to protect aspira while neverghaasts are cursed with needing to consume aspira in order to survive.

it seems neverghaasts generally come about to save lives - people who are on the verge of death are turned into neverghaasts by other neverghaasts.  which makes sense since neverghaasts want to prolong the one life they believe they have ( it sounds like they don’t believe in an afterlife, essentially, while those devoted to the aspirants believe in it and that aspira is the energy of moved on souls? ), so they bring others about by defying the death they don’t desire.

what exactly changes them that causes them to crave aspira?  whole thought i don’t really have lol.  wonder if this means that neverghaasts will not release an aspira upon death and therefore have no afterlife.

the neverghaasts all share the shattered/broken cathedral window tone.

aspirants don’t have quite as strict of a theme aside from blacks and golds.

neither side is portrayed particularly the good guys.  aspirants more so than neverghaasts, but nocturne and cho’gath’s descriptions, as well as riven’s, all suggest that their ways of handling things aren’t entirely in good faith... i guess they’re still the “good” guys in the end, but with their own shadows.

xayah and rakan specific

xayah’s cape looks more fabric-like.  i actually think it’s meant to reflect nocturne’s clothes and looks ( image below )?  something that isn’t as strongly reflected on miss fortune or cho’gath.

because xayah and rakan originally held no allegiance, their present looks are most likely not what they actually looked like.  xayah’s feathers actually don’t really go with her outfit, which is unusual for her skins...  they’re more teal-like.  rakan changed, so his feathers and such reflect his allegiance more...  but xayah’s just making a false pledge.  so while her feathers have taken on the golden decor, the feathers themselves haven’t changed color?  but intriguing that her cape has.

i wonder if, because of her outfit reflection, she tries to do her spy work by working more closely to nocturne.  miss fortune is too out in the open - the face of the congregation, it says.  xayah doesn’t want that attention, doesn’t want to get pulled into this.  she’s just playing along to accomplish her spy work, pay the debt she carries for rakan, and hopefully find a way to change him back.  and nocturne is most likely her best chance.

when she reports to vlad, i bet he uses that control over rakan’s life against her quite harshly.  xayah may not be physically tortured, but she’s being psychologically tortured and controlled... she’s away from rakan, living a life she doesn’t want, unable to fight for herself... i bet she’s internally suffering a lot in this world.

the red on her gauntlet ( see the splash art ) seems to suggest she carries a piece of rakan with her.  but what exactly is that piece... some of his aspira?  simply some of his magic?  she probably has to tell the other aspirants it’s a piece of the neverghaast who killed someone close to her... but ironically it’s actually from the one close to her.

i bet she was completely orphaned in this verse... but maybe a neverghaast killed her father while her mother died due to events of the aspirants’ causing... hence why she takes neither side in the war.  hard to believe in the afterlife, hard to believe either side is better...  she turned to thievery and met rakan somewhere on the way where they became a duo?  up in the air, rough thought.

[spoke-n-languish]

I am not a saint, but neither am I a sinner… and forever, I am not “sandy-claws”: trying to hide a mess, “a sent’mental-in clown”: entertainment for anyone’s 3-ring circus, “insanity clause”: my delusions of squalor are not drafted to get out of Dodge without due diligence shown, “Mz/s.δeηπ¿¢‘°?c”: I’m≠1d2-faced grinchmas(gnome)past shelf-life~O4gettin’cookies/toys&4givin’gourmilk…

Please, understand that although I have a gift for self-depravating sarcasm which tends to (+/-) both humbly lower my perceived appearance from that of an egotistical ass-hat to a more awkwardly-comfortable level which allows ruffled feathers to calm down and eventrally umbrellas me from being pecked to death under a sky-blacking cloud-swarm of incoming lit-pitched forks hurled by an angry mob of intellectual superiors, missile weapons lobbed by winged assailants above &… as well similarly from primary sapiens holdin’ home turf advantage here; and (-/+) in pendular-fashion underplays with my authoritative respect or aura of brilliance earned from whatever podium I’d just stepped to in addressing prior to deliverance (a hard lessen for one to understand perhaps in sacrifice albeit necessary for me indubitably).

Just as pretty as the above clearly is, to clarify, it doesn’t really say anything that hasn’t been said. My desire to find and hold positive in balance is not an “act” I am “playing at”. In correction, I have tried to explain that I am not doing anything wrong - if it helps, alright as I haven’t been well… fairly assessed. Roughly drafted is better than a premature out/¿Ꮴ?. Just chalk it up to showing incremental work progression towards making things better all-around.

The varied difficult faculty of communicating honestly with enrapt audience as a group sequestered individually (yet each alone having limited aperture in contrast by comparison for awareness of mutual shades in spectra, respectfully) to convey a final solution for an unsolvable problem with no requisite constant yet provided all known variables aren’t given from such an immutable stance permitted, in my mind isn’t as easy as it sounds. Perhaps as way of illumination I may describe things in biological terms.

Natural balance is always the outcome of any artificial adjustment in an ecosystem. This is an unerring fact. If any species is added, removed or reintroduced its niche within the environment creates ripples much as a stone thrown into a lake. The ripples eventually fade and the lake always returns to its natural placid state: that is natural balance. On a larger scale, human artifice has affected by cause of much bigger ripples to effectively and irrevocably change and even destroy entire ecosystems… temporarily. As once the machinations of mankind cease “rippling ” the scales back & forth, nature will evolve and once again find its level. The guiding principle in ecology is much like in medicine: first do no harm. I can’t say I know much about what is involved in technological or financial industries, but in biological ethics, Life is important (it’s right there in the title!). So, whether creating ripples or waves, it is important to understand the other organisms sharing your pond before cannon-balling directly for center mass. In all ways this immutable natural law is universally parallel to the philosophical social construct known as Karma: not the biblically subjective ‘Karma’ which seeks an “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” brand of justice/revenge which does adequately create a deterrent against crime but also, in the words of M.L. King Jr., “leaves everyone blind”. Ironically, ‘True “Blind” Justice’ (judgement without bias) tempers the thirst for vengeance (the need to set wrong to right and make things fair) with the understanding compassion of balance… which has the spirit of Karma, just applied subjectively.

[tollingbells77]

Part two!

Gaseous Gabriel is incredibly sweet. She seeks attention a lot like the other tabbies, and loves to be held against my chest. She will also sleep on me a lot, but her new favorite spot is the tallest post on the cat tree by the southwest window. She gets into the least amount of scuffles, but her and Marble have developed a sort of rivalry and will roll around at least once a day. Gabby is a chill kind of cat, but she can be sheepish compared to the other kittens. She's started this habit of suckling a certain blanket spread out on the bed, and once she starts most of the others follow (mostly the black cats and Mast). She's not all sugar, though, as she has a play mode where her eyes will go damn near shark like, rounding out to look entirely black. When she's like this, she's vicious and persistent with play and hunting behavior, to the point that even Mast will try to get away from her. A princess who rules her roost with a soft meow and a iron paw.

Lucifer Plasma is a fairly independent cat, able to keep to herself better than her brother Michael can manage. She will play with the others and follow their lead around the room, but she seems more reserved and quiet compared to the others. She also has a bit of a mothering streak, as she will groom everyone else and tolerates the others laying on her. Her and Michael sometimes orbit one another, a bit of a holdover from when he was much tinier than the others and she would mind him. He protects her now from the other more rambunctious kittens, and I think she appreciates it. She seems to dislike wrestling her siblings the most, and prefers to chase after toys in short bursts, then dismantling her prey- she's broken the most toys, lol. She has a hard time asking for attention like her siblings do, so I've been putting in more effort to just give her some attention when with the kittens. She seems to appreciate the effort a lot, and has been actually asking for attention now.

And now, Marble Bloodleaf. She's the cutest for sure, the one I have the most pictures of, and the one I'm proudest of. I love them all, of course, but Marble had a really hard transition from being a feral kitten to a domesticated one. She was incredibly afraid and didn't even eat until a few days into being in the house. She would hide all the time, and cry loudly for her mother before going silent when hearing humans again. The best way to find her during these phases was playing crying kitten sounds, which would cause her to come running in desperation to find her litter mates.

After transitioning the kittens from their play pen to the guest bedroom, she would hide under the bed and sleep there, in her own little safe spot. She didn't like being picked up, didn't want to be petted and was pushed around by the much bigger kittens all the time.

With time though, she's become a fierce little warrior, hence her getting a Warrior cat last name. She learned how to fight back against her bigger siblings, and is the best strategist among the kittens in regards to fighting- to the point that there was a rash of eye injuries due to her figuring out how to kick the others juuuust right. She is bold, often at the front of the pack now, and she strides around confidently now, not at all like the meek ball of fluff running for cover that let herself be scooped up by a random human. She will let you know when she doesn't like something, and she does not let any of her siblings push her around anymore. She loves eating, and is the most food motivated cat I've ever seen- she even grabs used Churu wrappers from my pockets and figured out how to open drawers to get at the treats inside. And, sweetest of all, she has come to really love me despite me not being her birth mom. She seeks out pets and attention now, and I can guarantee that if I'm on their bed, she will be somewhere near me if not on me. Sometimes she loves a bit too much, though, as she's left the most scratch marks on me. We're working on the claw control, lol.

I adore my furry little monsters, and becoming a cat mom like this has really changed a lot for me. They motivate me, make me work past my anxieties, and their love has really helped me when I haven't felt stable. It's been hard, hard work caring for them but they're all so, so worth it. I would t trade it for the world.

It's been a while since I've made a proper update on my brat children, more under the cut:

Michael Plasma is a VERY big strong boy now. He is no longer a runt in ANY capacity and he regularly keeps up and wins against his bigger brother, Liquid Mastema. He's pretty adventurous and brave, but he still occasionally loses it (as most cats do). He loves running around the room and playing with toys and his siblings, having grown out of his grumpy-to-not-be-an-only-child phase, but we've tried taking him outside on a lead and he HATES the outdoors. Firmly a inside cat. His favorite toys are the crinkly lizards and the springs, which he carries to a spot to gnaw on. His socks are incredibly wonky and he might end up with some white spots in his coat, as random white hairs keep happening.

Liquid Mastema doesn't quite live up to his name, because he is a BIG, chunky lad who is going to be a huge cat. He already was the biggest when we found him, and even though the others are catching up the females are never going to be as big as he is. He's not stupid but he can be oblivious sometimes- he has a understanding of the world and then the understanding falls apart(stepping through a piece of weakened cardboard, for instance) and he looks at me with confusion, before continuing on without a care. While he is rough with his siblings, he's become really gentle with humans and loves giving leg hugs and sitting on your leg for attention. He starts purring as soon as he's given any sort of attention, even something as simple as me brushing his side as I move past him. He's also the most afraid of strangers, and will hide the longest when we introduce new people. His favorite toys are tiny red fuzzy balls he ripped off some rattle toys, and he carries them around and drops them in my lap so I'll throw them. Has to be the red ones though, he doesn't like the other ones.

Solid Remiel is very much the twin of her brother Mast, in that they tended to be the chaos causers. He's relaxed a bit but she's still going at 900%, always ready to attack a new toy (moms hair tie or cellphone strap), or run around the room, or slam into and attack her siblings. She's also his twin in that she adores attention from humans, but she's has the ability to stop herself from fighting with the other kittens, unlike Mast. She's going to be a terror to every bug and pest that passes our threshold, as it's very clear that she was born to hunt and she's already killed the most bugs that have gotten into their room. She likes to shoot past me when I open the door in the morning, but she willingly lets me pick her up and take her back so she can get breakfast. She's usually the first to try things, and is incredibly spirited, shaking off stuff that scares the others quickly. She likes any toy she can cart off, but doesn't seem to have a distinct favorite, and relishes in stealing her brothers favorites from them.

[denays-xo]

Trying To Get Back Together | Bokuto x Reader

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

Author's Note: aaaaaaa here's the part 2! I haven't posted anything in so long and I really missed this. I hope you like bokuto's version of this series!

Note that words that have * in them will be defined at the bottom of the post. This is just in case people who don't know the meaning of those words or acronyms.

Summary: After graduating high school. Y/N went overseas to pursue their career path and for some-- personal reasons. They don't know how they managed to become the publicist managing the merchandise of one of the most popular volleyball team-- MSBY Black Jackals. And because their luck unbelievably gets worse day by day, her ex is in here too!

TTGBT #2: Bokuto Koutarou

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: The Backstory

Part 3: The Ending

You’re sitting across the PR manager who’s babbling repeatedly about how important the clients you were meeting. 

“Do you even understand me, Y/N? They’re a ‘Division 1’ team, they’re one of the strongest and most popular volleyball teams in Japan, maybe even the world. Can you even comprehend how big of a project this is for us? Oh screw it, what would you even know.” He says with an exasperated sigh but continues to blab again anyways. Ironically, you know more volleyball than he does. 

Usually, you would pay more attention to whatever he’s saying right now, but your thoughts are focused on your rapid heartbeat and trying your hardest to not make your whole body shake. You can’t shake the thought of meeting your ex-boyfriend after more than five years. Maybe he doesn’t recognize you anymore and it would be okay. Maybe he became so focused on his career that he forgot whatever happened during highschool. But you hoped he recognized you, you hoped he didn’t forget, and that’s why you can’t stop this overwhelming feeling rushing through you. 

You arrived at the stadium and you can’t help but admire how big it is. So he’s at this level now. You also can’t help but feel hesitant about going inside and seeing him play again. If it weren’t for the PR manager literally pushing and rushing you inside, you don’t know how long you would’ve stood there.  After entering the gym, you were immediately greeted by the loud screams of MSBY fans. You were also greeted by the big smile on the face of the man that caused the screams on a wide screen attached to the roof. 

“Bokuto spikes through the blocks again with an extremely narrow cross shot! Of course, along with the amazing set from Miya Atsumu………”

The sounds start to drown out and the only thing left is deafening silence as you stare at the man on the screen. He was pointing at the crowd with a big smile on his face as the team gathered together to congratulate each other. You moved to the front in order to get a better look at the team you will manage. But you know deep inside that it was him that you wanted to see. 

The team was in another set of back to back rallies with each other. Hinata, as always, was flying over the net which scored them another point. You remember meeting Hinata when Karasuno first participated in their joint training. He was adorable back then and was as chaotic as him. Now, he looks like a grown man and it even seems that he improved drastically. 

That’s about as much as the time other people came and distracted  your mind. Your eyes always fixated on the eccentric and overexcited man that’s cheering for the crowd as much as they are for cheering him. 

Bokuto was absorbed in the crowd as he always was. After all, who has time to care for other people when you’re trying your best to win your own game? The only time, for the first time since high school, that he was distracted was when he saw you amongst the crowd with a big binder in hand. His clear eyes knew that your eyes met and that you were looking at him too. Bokuto doesn’t know what to do or how to process this information. It was only when their team captain shouted at him to go to his position.

You saw him visibly freeze when your eyes locked. You decided that enough is enough and hurried outside. You just can’t take how overwhelming it is emotionally to meet with him again. You would think that after five years all those feelings would be gone, but with just one look everything came rushing again. All the anger, the longing, the sadness, the need, the hatred, you were not sure what to feel anymore. It’s not like you stayed single the entire time either so it wouldn’t make sense if you act rude towards him now. He was a precious friend to you so despite the heartbreak, you wanted to respect and care for him. Professionalism is needed if you will work for him after all. 

You didn’t realize how much time had passed when the PR manager was in front of you. 

“Hurry up, Y/N. It’s almost time for the meeting. We need to go to their office, it’s nearby so we might arrive before them. Make sure to prepare everything we need for the presentation. Also, prepare the…”

You decided to keep busy with your work. You don’t want the PRO* to flame you for blowing this whole project. When you heard the loud noise and ruckus the team was making as they were getting closer to the conference room, your heart was already tightening because of the sheer speed that it’s beating. It was getting harder and harder to breathe when you started hearing Hinata’s loud familiar voice through the glass. But your heart seemed to have completely stopped when Bokuto came into view. He was hanging his head low and looked like he was in a daze. 

“Oh?! Y/N-san! I haven’t seen you in a long time.” You were surprised that Hinata was in front of you. You smiled at him and you see Bokuto in your peripheral staring at you. You only nodded and gave him a polite smile. 

Their team members and coach rushed them to take a seat so the presentation could start immediately. 

“All right, so here we have some suggestions on which we think would appeal to your fans. First we have examples of chibi* versions of yourselves as stuffed toys. Not only will it appeal to your fans, it will also take the interests of kids that want to play volleyball in the future. Next we have accessories inspired by you or pieces that are designed by yourselves…” You try your hardest not to let Bokuto, who is staring into your soul, affect you as you continue presenting in front of them. 

Once the meeting has ended, of course the standard practice was to let the clients leave the room first. You sighed in relief when everyone left and your team was cleaning all the equipment used. 

“All right, guys, since we finished pretty early today and the presentation went well, we thank you for that Y/N, you guys are allowed to go straight home after this.” The people in the room were cheering for the PR manager after his announcement. “Just so you’re prepared, we are gonna have a hell of a week after this.” 

After everyone was dismissed, you planned to go straight home since everything that happened today was emotionally overwhelming. When you think your day can’t get any more stressful, you see a very familiar figure sitting in the lobby. Bokuto was wearing earphones and was watching something intently in his phone. You didn’t expect him to be here since usually there’s a celebratory dinner after a win. 

Should you say hi or not? After pondering as fast as possible, you decided not to do it. You don’t know if you can handle it anymore. But, as you were nearing the exit of the building, a voice called out to you. You freeze. 

“Wait, Y/N!”

You turned around and saw him jogging towards you. You can only force a smile when he finally stood in front of you. 

“Hello, Bokuto.” You saw him visibly get upset when he heard you call him by his surname. He was still a friend but you had to draw a line somehow. Your relationship was not the same as five years ago. 

“Uh, it’s been a long time, do you want to like, catch up? I know a good cafe nearby.” Bokuto scratched his neck, a thing he does when he really wants you to agree. 

Just like that, you’re sitting at a cafe waiting for Bokuto who’s ordering for the both of you. You can’t seem to stop your shaking knee caused by being restless. Why did you ever agree to this again?

“Here’s your order.” Bokuto hands you a drink as he sits across you on the small table. It’s definitely a lot closer than you would feel comfortable with. Of course, you don’t show it, or at least you hope it doesn’t show. 

“Uh, thanks. So, um, how have you been, Bokuto?” You said then immediately took a sip on your drink. Somehow you’re having a hard time pulling words out of your mouth. 

“The passing years have been, let’s say, eventful.” Despite staring at you the entire time during the presentation, Bokuto seems to be having a hard time looking at you now that you’re face to face.

“Yup, I often see your team on the news.” You deliberately tried to avoid saying you saw him and that he’s the only person you can focus on the television. “You guys have been all over the world. Your team also went very far in the Olympics.”

“I guess, you can say that I’m living my dream.” You were very proud of him for that but you were careful not to say too much. “There’s just one more thing missing though.” With that, he stares intently into your eyes.

Definition of terms:

*PRO- Public Relations Officer. The head of a PR team.

*chibi-a Japanese slang for small or short. A chibi version of a person is often shown as a smaller and cuter drawing or product.

TTGBT #2: Bokuto Koutarou

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: The Backstory

Part 3: The Ending

[silversatoru]

play-thing — part one

gojo satoru x getou suguru x f!reader

t/w: nsfw 18+, dark content, drugging, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, oral (f!receiving), nipple play, this story contains very dark themes so please do not read it you’re sensitive to any of these topics

synopsis: suguru and satoru are missing something in their lives, and who better to manipulate than an lonely, impressionable girl who just moved to tokyo from another city. they’re willing to take extreme measures to transform you into their perfectly submissive little play-thing. 

wc: 1.9k

suguru and satoru do everything together; live in the same house, work at the same company, even share a closet of the most expensive clothes, but something was missing. they both felt it, the empty space between them, and they were determined to find the perfect piece to fill the gaping hole in their lives.

and you practically fell right into the palm of their hands, in a local grocery store of all places. a pretty little thing with a freshly broken heart who’d just moved here from a neighboring city. no friends, no family nearby, anxious and impressionable and desperately in need of a couple capable men to show her around. it all started with an innocent question: “hey, sorry to bother you guys, but could you tell me where the baking aisle is?”

how you ended up here you still weren't quite sure. 

“let us take you on a tour of the city tonight,” satoru had cooed at you.

“there’s a few really nice bars, we could grab some drinks,” suguru added, both their voices smooth and terrifyingly persuasive.

but they seemed nice enough, and you weren't in any position to be picky with making friends right now — after all, you’d have to get accustomed to the city somehow, right?

wear something pretty, satoru had winked at you before you parted ways and continued your shopping, and for some reason you were very inclined to do as he said. they were both intimidatingly attractive and you weren’t exactly sure what their dynamic was yet, but you decided that if you ended up in bed with one of them tonight, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

you’d chosen a short and silky black dress, something elegant but classic that would absolutely catch the eyes of both men. and it did, satoru’s eyes glazing over your body several times before he even bothered to say hello to you. suguru was less obvious, his dark eyes giving you a quick once-over before giving you a warm smile and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the three of you entered the first bar.

it was small, dimly lit with a few lanterns and packed tight with people. a little too crowded for your level of comfort, so you stuck closely to the sides of suguru and satoru as they led you deeper into the pub. the dark-haired male gestured towards an empty seat at the end of the countertop, the two of them standing on either side of you after you slid into it. satoru spoke with an impressive level of charisma, ordering three of the same drink from the bartender — who he seemed to know quite well.

taking a few sips of the liquor did wonders for you initial anxiety, and the casual conversation with both men was helping you to settle in as well. 

so, where are you from? 

what made you want to move to tokyo?

what do you do for a living? 

you were painfully oblivious to how the conversation stayed entirely centered around you; you still hadn’t learned anything about the two men, but they were learning everything about you. 

an hour or so in, a warm dizziness began to swirl around the inside of your head, slowly exacerbating until you felt like you were about to tumble out of your seat. you’d only had a couple drinks, and you normally handled your alcohol fairly well, so why did you feel absolutely sloshed right now? 

“guys, i think maybe-” you turned towards your two tour guides and crashed forward into suguru’s chest without warning. 

“think you went a little heavy, toru?” he scooped his hands under your plump ass and lifted your unconscious body into his muscularly arms. 

“not my fault she has no tolerance,” satoru shrugged, throwing some cash on the counter, “might be easier with her like this anyway”. 

“i suppose,” suguru clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “stupid girl, didn’t your parents teach you not to trust strangers so easily?”

the two of them casually made their way out of the bar together, making jokes about how poorly you handle your liquor to anyone who gave them a questionable look — but the bar was so loud and jam-packed with people that they made it out without any incident.

you were slow to come out of your sleepy haze, head nodding up and down as you struggled to maintain consciousness and take in the scenery around you. in a futile attempt to brush some hair out of your face you realized your hands were tightly secured behind your back. panic immediately flooded your system, chest tightening and hot tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. 

“just a precaution, angel,” suguru came walking into your hazy vision, a warm smile on his face as he tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ears, “how are you feeling?” 

“wha-, whaaat happen- ed?” your words were garbled, your brain barely able to form them. 

“don’t worry about it,” satoru appeared next to suguru, “you just drank a little too much, but we’ll take good care of you, won’t we suguru?” 

“of course, no need for you to worry about anything anymore,” he gave an affirmative nod. 

“i don’t think-” you wracked your brain for any recollection of what had happened tonight, but you found nothing, “i don’t th- think i — understand”. 

“you will soon,” satoru flashed a bright smile, but it wasn’t nearly as inviting as the first time you saw it. this time it was eerie, evil, threatening — what exactly was he talking about? 

your brain was quickly turning to absolute mush, your vision getting darker and foggier than it already was as you tried to hang on to the sound of their voices.

just relax

we’re gonna make you feel good, you wanna feel good, princess?

you want us to make you feel better?

“mhm,” you gave them a slow nod. you did want them to make you feel better! you felt groggy and confused and nauseas! so of course you said yes! that is what they were asking? right?

you felt the bed shift around you, several hands tracing over your skin and gently pushing you onto your back. you tried to question them, tried to form the words, but your brain was unable to produce a single word or movement at this point.

a hot tongue connected with the side of your neck, lips latched onto the skin and sucking gently on the sensitive area. another mouth was on your inner thigh, sucking a little harder and undoubtedly leaving a small marking. you subconsciously let out a squeaky, shaky breath, the warmth of their tongues eliciting a response in your doped-up body.

goosebumps raked through your body when you felt a pair of slender fingers slip under your dress and brush over the thin material of your panties. it was satoru, his middle and index fingers prodding at your clothed cunt and sending jolts through your legs. meanwhile suguru continued to cover your neck in sloppy kisses, one of his large hands groping at your covered breasts.

your brain had gone numb, from the drugs, the confusion, the terribly intoxicating pleasure. you hated how clueless you were, how useless your body was right now, but what you hated most of all was that you weren’t even trying to fight back. their touch felt good — too good for you to ask them to stop.

it wasn’t long before satoru’s fingers were replaced with his mouth, his tongue running up and down the fold in your panties and absolutely soaking the material with his saliva. he groaned from the taste, getting just as much pleasure from this as you were. he was quick to push the fabric to the side, sliding his tongue against your sticky folds with hunger and urgency. he lapped at your cunt, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue and evoking a series of twitches from your lazy body.

“be gentle with her” suguru’s voice sounded far off in the distance as he mumbled into your chest.

satoru heeded to the other man’s instructions, slowing his pace and going more gentle on your sensitive, puffy clit. suguru found your hardened nipples through your thin dress, rolling them in his fingers and enhancing the already blissful feeling you were getting from satoru’s tongue.

the two of them working together was incomprehensibly euphoric, your stomach coiling into tight knots with each swipe of his tongue. without warning he dove even deeper, his tongue shooting into your cunt while his nose rubbed against your throbbing bundle of nerves. between that and suguru giving your nipples a sudden tug, your body was crashing with waves of pleasure — strangled moans and pitiful whimpers the only sounds that your mouth could produce.

it was a near-holy experience, the feeling of the sedatives pumping through your veins as satoru tongued your pussy and suguru massaged your breasts through your heightened orgasm. you felt like you were floating, the room was spinning, and then everything went dark.

a real shame that you wouldn’t be able to remember any of it by the time you woke up.

bright sunlight pierced through your eyelids the following morning, forcing you awake and causing you to jolt up. you were laying in a large bed that was situated at the back of a rather large room, fitted silk sheets cool under your skin. confused of what happened and where you were, you stood from the bed and made your way to the door, feet patting on the soft carpeted floor. 

when you opened the door you entered a long hallway that led to a wide stairway covered in the same fluffy carpeting. two voices were laughing and talking beneath you, and curiosity fueled your motivation to walk down the stairs and into an open-concept kitchen and living room. 

satoru and suguru, the two men from yesterday were busy at the stove, pancakes and bacon sizzling away on two cast-iron pans. they wore matching aprons, suguru’s reading chef daddy, and satoru’s reading mr. good-lookin’ is cookin’. 

who the fuck were these guys?

“feeling better?” suguru was the first to notice you loitering at the edge of the room. 

“yeah, how are you? didn’t picture you to be such a heavy drinker,” satoru laughed, flipping a pancake with grace. 

you didn’t remember much, nothing past sitting down at the bar with them. you weren’t much for getting wasted but you were plagued with more stress than usual lately — maybe you really let yourself go last night. 

“ah, sorry about that, I don’t even remember what i did, honestly,” you shrugged, “thanks for looking out for me though, where’s my stuff?”

“in a hurry to leave? stay for breakfast,” suguru brushed off your question with a captivating smile, his eyes squinting together in the most adorable way. 

“we insist,” satoru chimed in, humming as he continued to focus on the sweet-smelling food. 

and so you stayed, which was probably the worst mistake that you’d made in the past twenty-four hours of countless terrible mistakes. 

part one | part two

a/n: im on a yandere/dark content kick today i cant help it. anyway if u wanna be tagged when i post part two lemme know :) and if u want some yandere megumi go read @katslutski​ ‘s tell me 

(ily kat <33 so happy to have someone to get into very specific obsessions with)

[storiesforallfandoms]

inspirational ~ corpse husband

word count: 1589

request?: yes!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”

description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best

masterlist (one, two)

Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.

“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”

“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.

(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.

When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.

The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.

He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”

Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”

Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”

“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.

“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.

Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”

“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”

He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”

“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires  by accident or something.”

“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”

“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.

He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”

“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”

Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”

“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”

A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.

“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”

This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.

“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”

“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”

“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”

“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”

Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.

Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”

“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”

“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.

Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.

[junk-jester]

Been a good bit since I last gave any updates on my team, and since The Teal Mask DLC came out, here's the current squad thus far, plus their character bios.

Again, the first team member up is Berdly the Quaquaval. Between the last update and now, he's still about the same as ever, but experience and more level grinding (he was around Lv. 72 back then, he's Lv. 100 now) has softened his arrogant feathers into a far more approachable and kind demeanor. Modest nature and likes to scatter things often. Moveset is Aqua Step, Close Combat, Ice Spinner and Low Sweep. Held item is Mystic Water.

Second is Hunter the Hisuian Decidueye. Having seemingly dropped in from out of nowhere with few memories of his past, outside of a crippling fear of Arcanines, Hunter has made his mark on the team by standing up against all of the Loyal Three and shrugging off their most devastating blows with only a sliver of HP remaining when most others were down for the count. Named after Hunter Noceda/The Golden Guard from The Owl House. Hardy nature and is somewhat vain. Moveset is Leaf Storm, Rock Tera Blast, Triple Arrows and Leaf Blade. Held item is Black Belt.

Third is Majora the Ogerpon. The team's newest addition after their adventures in Kitakami, Majora is a prankster who easily made herself known by causing several rock slides and convincing the local Poochyena population to constantly get in Abitha's way, up until their fateful encounter during the Festival of Masks. When Abitha and Carmine went to the lengths and troubles of returning the dropped Teal Mask, Majora happily agreed to join the former of the two Humans, much to the resentment of Carmine's little brother. In spite of her prankster ways, she is quite insecure about her battle prowess and hates being left behind. Named after the titular evil mask from The Legend of Zelda: Major'as Mask. Lonely nature and takes plenty of siestas. Moveset is Ivy Cudgel, Brick Break, Horn Leech and Tera Blast. Held item is one of her three alternate masks, switching between Wellspring, Hearthflame and Cornerstone depending on upcoming situations.

Fourth is Valkyrie the Tinkaton. Much like Berdly, she's still the same as ever, but with the added bonus that she's become a sort of mentor/older sister figure for Majora, showing the mask-wearing Legendary the ropes and telling her off when pranks end up going too far. Those rock slides back on Oni Mountain? Not cool. Hardy nature and is alert to sounds. Moveset is Gigaton Hammer, Play Rough, Flash Cannon and Draining Kiss. Held item is Rocky Helmet.

Fifth is Turbine the Revavroom. Turbine, for lack of a better word, is a complete adrenaline junkie and speed demon, racing around ally and foe alike and bashing any who dare to be slower than her with an onslaught of taunts. She's also highly competitive and is just about one bad accident away from becoming the Pokémon equivalent of Lightning McQueen. If she were human, she'd also probably be a HEAVY smoker. Named after the engines of jet planes, even though she's a car. Mild nature and is mischievous. Moveset is Spin Out, Poison Jab, Tera Blast and Iron Head. Held item is Leftovers.

And, last but not least, The sixth and final team member is Aurelion the Miraidon/Iron Serpent. The team's resident grizzled old mentor who acts like they're fast far past their prime when, in truth, they're just sorta lazy. Don't let this demeanor fool you. Aurelion knows their limits and is always determined to lend a guiding claw to their allies, seeing all of their own personal hardships and journeys through to the very end. They're also incredibly patient and wise, enough to soften any 'Mon's hard edges in due time, no matter how hard they try to resist, though this attitude usually tends to drop when they're only with Abitha, in which they'll get annoyed by the life-threatening antics of her and her human friends, namely the Area Zero Squad (Arven, Nemona and Penny). Aurelion also prefers to stick back and stay in Ride Mode most of the time, letting the others fight their own battles without them trying to rely on them. However, if push ultimately comes to shove, they will hop in and end a conflict quickly if their teammates are struggling. Of course, all that subtlety, wisdom and guidance can and will go flying out the window at the drop of a hat the second someone mentions sandwiches, their favorite snack and ultimate kryptonite. Named after The Star Forger space dragon from League of Legends. Quirky nature and is alert to sounds. Moveset is Electro Drift, Dragon Pulse, Discharge and Tera Blast. Held item is Terrain Extender.

Been playing a ton of Violet, so just because, here's my current team.

As for where I am in the stories, I've completed both Starfall Street and Path of Legends, so now I just need to fight the Elite 4 and beat Victory Road.

Naturally, here's some info about the team members.

First is Berdly the Quaquaval. The team's longest running and most reliable member, he's gotten the party out of more than a few scrapes by the edge of his beak than I care to count. Named after the gamer bird from Deltarune. Modest nature and likes to scatter things often. Moveset is Aqua Step, Wave Crash, Low Sweep and Close Combat. Held item is Mystic Water.

Second is Valkyrie the Tinkaton. The team's heaviest hitter, held back only by her unfortunate Tera type. A major glass cannon otherwise. Named after Nora Valkyrie from RWBY. Hardy nature and is alert to sounds. Moveset is Gigaton Hammer, Draining Kiss, Play Rough and Flash Cannon. Held item is Rocky Helmet.

Third is Grimblade the Ceruledge. Easily the team's rising star who's done most of the heavy lifting, she's takes the lead when battle time comes. No nickname origin. Relaxed nature and is somewhat vain. Moveset is Flame Charge, Bitter Blade, Shadow Claw and Phantom Force. Held item is Charcoal.

Fourth is Goku the Annihilape. A major glutton for both sandwiches and punishment, he's proved his worth by taking down at least two Titans solo, but ends up falling short by failing to cover weaknesses. Named after the protagonist of the Dragon Ball series. Rash nature and is impetuous and silly. Moveset is Rage Fist, Stomping Tantrum, Close Combat and Cross Chop. Held item is Punching Glove.

Fifth is Shogun the Kingambit. Self-imposed herself as the team's leader and helps train the others thoroughly, but she often pushes their patience. Named after Japanese military leaders. Calm nature and is somewhat vain. Moveset is Kowtow Cleave, Iron Head, Retaliate and Night Slash. Held item is Quick Claw.

Sixth and final team member is Bessie the Wo-Chien. The team's newest addition due to lack of type coverage, they're untrusting of the others due to being sealed away hundreds of years ago, but they may grow on them soon enough. Named after the Plantar family snail from Amphibia. Docile nature and likes to thrash about. Moveset is Ruination, Giga Drain, Foul Play and Tera Blast. Held item is Miracle Seed.

[saffloure]

ೃ༄HIT DICE (III)

EDDIE MUNSON X HARRINGTON!OC

MASTERLIST

✧chapter three: to the grave and beyond

↳ word count: 6,7k

↳ spoiler warning: seasons 1-3

↳ other warnings: mentions of blood, v mean cheerleaders

↳ mentioned songs/artists: Megadeth, Olivia Newton-John, Slayer, Sabbra Cadabra by Black Sabbath, Since Yesterday by Strawberry Switchblade, Judas Priest

↳ a/n: introducing two new oc’s today! hope y’all excited because Debbie Donoghue has been haunting me in my dreams ever since i’ve came up with the idea of her. also protect Chrissy for all cost although it’s a bit too late to say that dhchcjj

The roads were sprinkled with February's white fluff, or rather — what was left of it. A pulp that consisted of dirty, wet snow, some sticks and remains of trash wasn't uncommon in Hawkins at this time of the year. Whether it was sprawling across the roadside, staining the floors in the hallways or smearing Stacy's Harrington new winter shoes.

Those weather condition, were only a secondary reason of the brunette, suddenly asking, "Eddie, where the hell are we going?"

The spoken Eddie Munson, sitting in the driver's seat and bopping his head to the sound of a Megadeth song playing in the radio, didn't even bat his eye to his companion. Instead, he slyly smirked, keeping his gaze on the road.

"So let me get things straight," Stacy continued, adjusting her position on the passenger’s seat. "You say you'll drop me home after school and then you just drive past my house and when I ask you for... what? Seventeen time in a row where are we going, you're not answering? That looks like a kidnapping to me."

"Do you have anything better to do today?" Eddie chuckled, completely dismissing the little investigation she was conducting. When he received no answer, he added, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Stacy shook her head in disbelief and not being able to keep her serious face on, she murmured, "It's still a kidnapping."

"No, it's not. You walked in here by yourself," Eddie replied, waving a finger in front of her face, "...and mommy said not to befriend a drug dealer."

"Did it just for the discount," Stacy scoffed ironically in hopes of causing a reaction from Eddie. Instead, he clearly saw through her attempts in getting him invested in a conversation and plainly laughed.

He was deadly aware he could have easily slipped up while talking with Stacy. Knowing that, he would have done anything in his power to avoid being mislead by her.

Since the beginning of December, specifically from the moment Stacy decided she would tutor him, the two had been meeting on a regular basis. Whether it was listening to music in Eddie's trailer, smoking weed in the forest behind their school or even studying in library. Although the last instance was only partially true. What would fit more accurately was Stacy trying to study and Eddie distracting her.

The bond that grew between them wasn't noticeable from a third person's perspective. Debatably, it seemed almost impossible for one to take a stance of claiming people like Eddie and Stacy could have ever grown closer to each other. Besides, there had been no evidence to prove this point — at school, they almost never spoke to one another, sitting at their designated tables in the cafeteria. Fridays, however, were reserved for their meetings. That is exactly why Eddie decided that today would be interesting to switch things around a little bit.

"I'm genuinely scared, Munson. Don't play with me," Stacy went on, however, her words did not match her amused tone.

"Don't you trust me, buttercup?" Eddie asked in exaggeration, furrowing his brow.

"Fuck no," she grinned, grabbing onto the handle the moment he took a sharp turn.

"We're here!" he cheerfully exclaimed, turning off the engine of his van. "Pick whichever cassette you want and come with me."

"Just as I had any choice to that last part," Stacy rolled her eyes, picking up two metal mixtapes they most frequently listened to together.

"What was that?"

"I didn't say anything," she shrugged, letting him to lead her through the overgrown path.

The house, or rather — a shack, looked as if no one properly took care of it. The blue paint was chipping off the wooden walls, the porch was missing a few planks. Yet it was the tranquil scenery of the Lovers’ Lake, the nearby flora that consisted of dense forest and tall bushes and the decking that lead to a small boathouse that made the place feel incredibly pleasant.

"Allow me, fair maiden," Eddie offered, opening the doors for Stacy with the bunch of keys he kept in his pocket. "Welcome to the Lipton House," he said with a sonorous manner.

"Lipton? That's the guy you’ve said they put in prison, right? Wasn't he called...?"

"Reefer Rick, yeah," Eddie interrupted, throwing his bag pack on the grayish couch as they walked in the living room. Turning back to Stacy, he placed his hands on her shoulders, whispering, "So that is why if you say anything to anyone about me having keys to his place, you'll end up as food for all of these fishes in the Lovers' Lake."

Stacy scrunched her nose and patting the top of his head promised, "I'll take this secret to the grave and beyond."

A smile entered Eddie's face. The one that only showed when he was around her. Believing it was a regular expression, he watched her opening the back doors and leaving the warmth of the shack.

"Hey, quick-feet, where're you goin'?" Eddie called after her, observing how she delicately jumped on the stones that the little path was made of.

"See the fishes that you supposedly are going to feed with my remains!" Stacy answered enthusiastically, not waiting for him to catch up.

Finding herself on the bay, she bended ever so slightly in hopes to observe the marine life of the Lovers’ Lake. The whole ordeal, however, was purely theatrical — it was true that the winter was ending and the ice on the lake had already started melting, yet it wasn't warm enough to see any signs of animals, especially fishes. Although fully logical and broad-minded, Stacy Harrington couldn't forget about the fact that, after all, she shared the same last name as her brother. One of the perks that came with that was obviously acting incredibly agitated, silly even, when stricken by a delightful experience. This time, Stacy's reaction didn't need to be caused by anything exorbitant; Eddie's intentions were enough to make her joyous.

"I’ve never said I was going to feed them with your remains," she heard Eddie claim in a suspenseful manner as he approached her from behind.

"Oh, you'll have to. I'm sure the fishes here don't fancy eating humans alive," Stacy corrected him with the exact same tone he recognized from classes they shared together. "Besides, I think you won't do that even if I snitched on you. You like me too much," she added with a snarky smirk, her hands now being plastered to her hips.

The moment she had closed her eyes in pure delight while claiming the victory, she felt Eddie's arms smoothly yet unexpectedly picking her up from the ground. The rapid motion made her subconsciously wrap her hands around his neck, only to express utter shock on her face.

"Eddie! Put me down!" she yelled in a frenzy, holding onto his neck even tighter.

"So you say I won't do that, huh?" he teased her, taking a few steps closer to the body of water in front of them.

"Edward, I swear to god! Those rocks are slippery! We're gonna fall down together if you trip!"

"Wait, what did you just call me?" Eddie scrunched his nose as he loosened his grip on Stacy's waist and legs, just enough to scare her.

"You son of a..! Put me down or I'll cut off all of your hair and stuff your guitar with it!"

"Okay, now I'm seriously throwing you into that lake," he replied in a grim tone, shaking his head as he resumed his walk. It caused Stacy to curl into a ball in hopes that it'd make it impossible for his threat to come true.

Closing her eyes, she was prepared to feel the freezing water swallowing her whole. She was ready to stand up in the shallow, cursing Eddie out. But instead of unpleasant wetness under her feet, she felt steady ground and heard a loud chuckle when her eyes still remained squinted.

"C'mon, it's cold here," was the only thing that Eddie mumbled when he turned on his heel with the intentions of going back to Reefer Rick's house.

With a mixture of annoyance, amusement and disbelief, Stacy froze in her place, observing how Eddie jogged back up the hill. Kneeling down, she formed a thick ball out of wet snow. A mischievous grin entered her face as soon as she rushed towards him. It must have been for the genes shared with the ex-basketball player — what else could explain the perfectly measured aim that made the snowball splatter all over the exposed part of Eddie's neck.

Almost as if he hadn't been just hit, the Dungeon Master slowly turned towards Stacy, his movements appearing extraordinarily calm. Another few seconds needed to pass for their eyes to meet, but when they did, the dark-haired girl let out an agitated chuckle, noticing his stare. A stare she had seen multiple times now, always during the times she knew he was up to no good.

"Oi, Brutus!" he called, crouching in order to return the attack. "The moment I turn away, you're backstabbing me?" he added, watching Stacy covering her face while simultaneously trying to tame her giggle.

She had no time to react when Eddie closed the distance between them, smearing the already half-melted snowball on the top of her head.

Picking her back up, this time however, throwing her over his shoulder, he muttered, "And here I was, thinking a top-notch student could behave."

"You tried to throw me in a freezing lake!" Stacy argued, wiggling her feet in the air.

As they reached the back porch, their quarrel suddenly calmed down as if the warmth of the little wooden shack was the culprit. Back inside, Stacy followed Eddie to the gray couch, watching him sit down and pat a spot next to himself.

"That's for me," he murmured, taking out a black notebook and a pen out of his bag pack, only to add, "and that's for you," when he handed Stacy a bag of Famous Amos’ chocolate chip cookies and a can of Dr. Pepper.

Stacy's eyes lightened up, a wide smile came upon her face the moment she saw the goods she was about to devour.

"You bought me snacks," she whispered in surprise. "You bought me snacks!" This time, she almost squealed, wrapping her arms around Eddie's neck and planting a quick kiss on his forehead.

A burning flush occupied Eddie Munson's cheeks a few more seconds after Stacy let him out of her embrace and sat herself perpendicularly to him. Now, her legs being in his lap, she opened the golden box, taking out two cookies. She put her share in her mouth while reaching out to Eddie with the other one in her hand.

"I still have a mystery to solve, though," Stacy mumbled, munching on a cookie.

"And what might that be, sweetheart?" Eddie asked in a smooth tone, his expression exaggerated as always.

"Why did you bring me here? 'Cause I think feeding me was not the primary reason."

He couldn't get over how bewitching her features were when lazily seated on the sofa. With her left hand supporting her head, the other in the cookie box and the legs he gently began to stroke in the middle of her question. At that moment, he couldn't get over of how easily the notion of serenity overwhelmed him.

"Hello? Earth to Eddie?" Stacy called, waving her hand in front of his face.

"I-uh, sorry... I-," he stuttered, only now realizing he had zoned out, "There's this campaign that's coming to an end... and I needed a change of scenery so, 'ya know, some new ideas could spark in this brilliant head," he chuckled semi-awkwardly.

"A big surprise for the boys. I see, I see," Stacy nodded.

"Yeah... But in order to do that I need to focus," he replied, opening his notebook somewhere in the middle.

"And you thought bringing me was a good idea because..?" she added in an anticipating tone, furrowing her brows.

"I need to focus," he repeated his last words, causing Stacy's confusion to venture further ahead. Seeing that her expression didn't change, he muttered, "My brain works better with you around."

"Oh, Edward," she called in a sing-song voice, covering her mouth with her hand, "Flattery and cookies work on me better than anything. I'm all yours."

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down. Stacy's confidence and charisma were the things that drew him closer to her. It was almost as if she had a superpower to make everything sound so swiftly, so natural.

For that exact reason, he felt a sudden burst of bravery while asking, "To the grave and beyond?"

Recognizing he had quoted her, she smirked, nodding her head as she wanted repeated, "To the grave and..."

"Stacy!" Eddie's sudden outburst of joy put her a bit off track. Yet, the sparks in his eyes were more telling that anything else in this world. "You're a goddamn genius!"

"Don't tell me you're going to..."

"I'm going to resurrect Vecna!"

"Don't do that to them! Haven't they just killed him the last time?" Stacy complained out loud, as invested as ever.

"Let the divine power decide if they were worthy of it! We're resurrecting him!"

The tremendously dangerous excitement in his tone caused Stacy to smile in delight. His antics, although seemingly childish and stricken with infancy, were the exact same ones she seek for each time they met. The passion with which he spoke was absolutely magnetic, electrifying even. So much so, Stacy couldn't help but wonder how she could live without ever experiencing that thrill before.

Unfortunately, she was finding herself asking the same question over again each time she was sat at her table in the cafeteria. The next Monday not differing from any other generic day in Hawkins High.

The lunch break had been as hectic as always — jocks quarreling so expressively they could be heard on the other side of the canteen, geeks having a similar, yet softer mannerism. Just as always, to Stacy's left was Debbie Donoghue — a tall, golden-skinned senior with raven-black hair always in a tight bun. Cheerleading team's flyer and probably the most physically skilled gymnastic, beating even their captain, Chrissy Cunningham. The second girl had just approached the two seniors with her dearest friend with whom she was seated in every class — Angie Ferguson. Contrary to Chrissy and Debbie, Angie was not in the Cheer Team (despite her unsuccessful attempts). Always clothed in the most colorful, checkered skirts and GAP sweaters, her hairdo inspired by Olivia Newton-John from '79, the preppy girl was an inevitable addition to the group. Friends by association, who bonded over being popular, the four girls were often seen together. Although Stacy Harrington could've sworn it began making her nauseous, especially while hearing Debbie's rude remarks about the other cheerleaders and Angie nodding her head at everything she said.

"...I get that her parents filled for divorce but that's not a reason not to show up for our practice! All she does is weep like a little crybaby," Debbie Donoghue scoffed with her brows furrowed. The sudden change in pitch in her voice being the reason for Stacy to start listening in.

"Maybe she needs some time to cope with that... You're being too harsh on her, Debbie," the sweet tone of Chrissy Cunningham interfered, followed by falsely sympathetic giggles of the other cheerleader.

"No, you're just too lenient, deary. That's maybe why you're our captain… because, I'm telling you — if I were you, Janet'd be long out of the team..." the flyer shook her head, her eyes finding her way towards the fourth person, who didn't say anything else despite a mere greeting, "Stacy... you're joining us today, aren't you?"

There was a habit of the girls to sit on the bleachers each Monday after classes. A convenient way to pass the time between Chrissy and Debbie's cheer practice, hence the two of them already needed to wait an hour after their were finished with lessons. It so happened that the boys from the senior year had PE at the same time. With the two cheerleaders boyfriends' attending their last year of high school, the girls were looking forward to watch them play anything they were up to. Usually Stacy strolled around, joining her friends because of the lack of any peculiarly better ideas to spend her Mondays.

Through her life Stacy often strolled around. Purely, because she had no other alternative. It was always their way or highway — by their Stacy obviously meant her friends by association. Therefore, she had grown used to vegetation, simply going places because that was what others expected of her — a schema that seemed to repeat all over again for the majority of her life. Whether it was her parents, her friends, or the general expectations she was making herself fulfill. Like a never-ending cycle of doom, it haunted her, gripping her with the metal-cold hands of the social code.

Today, however, something within her boiled at the thought of visiting the bleachers. Maybe it was the sensation of her finally having enough of living the lie she was used to... Or maybe because she had already experienced a better variant of filling her free time. Especially with someone with whom she could listen to Black Sabbath and smoke cigarettes behind his van.

"I don't know," Stacy murmured, covering her coyness with her usual confident smirk. She hoped for the girls to drop the subject.

"Don't be a traitor, Stace. You've already ditched us last week," Debbie complained, standing up from the table the moment the bell rang and grabbing her classmate's arm, "See you after English, loves," she added to Chrissy and Angie, disappearing with Stacy into the crowded hallway.

As static as she could be at that moment, Stacy Harrington let out a subconscious sigh, preparing for what was about to come. Thinking of any possible excuses, she figured out the best plan was to actually agree and leave earlier than she should.

The English class prolonged, just as the classroom didn't want to spit out Stacy as much as she didn't want to leave herself. Wishing for an ability to stop the time, the girl followed Debbie exactly where she wished her to go.

"Isn't he fantabulous?" the raven-haired cheerleader asked the moment she and Stacy sat down. With dreamy eyes, she scanned her boyfriend, sending him a kiss when they stares met.

"Mad awesome," Stacy nodded her head, her response resembling the usual behavior of Angie Ferguson, who, by the way, just entered the gymnasium with Chrissy Cunningham alongside.

"What's happened to you?" Debbie scrunched her nose, sensing the change in her friend's reaction.

"Yeah, Stace. You seem a bit off," Angie added, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm just tired," Stacy answered, getting right into the act she had been planning out for the past hour.

Making up excuses to the people she seemingly liked definitely wasn't something she was proud of. Yet, desperate times required adequate measures, especially while regarding Stacy wasn't trying to hurt anyone. Instead, she simply wished for some alone leisure time.

"Just tired," Debbie repeated, shaking her head in disbelief, adding cheekily, "Whatever you say, doll. In my opinion, we should find you a special someone to be tired with."

"Geez, Debbs," Stacy mumbled, clasping her hands, "We've already talked about it a myriad of times... We’re graduating soon and there's no point of me getting into a relationship if I'm about to leave to college."

"I'm not telling you to get married, Stace! All that I'm saying is you should go out, shag someone and stop complaining," Debbie bursted out, placing her left leg over the other.

"Live a little!" Angie exclaimed but as soon as the words left her mouth she glanced over Chrissy, looking for approval.

Seeing the comforting smile the head cheerleader had just sent her, Stacy exhaled loudly, supporting her head with the palm of her hand. Deciding not to absorb into the conversation that was turning into a light argument, she focused her eyes on the boys playing basketball. Not having troubles with recognizing Eddie Munson amongst them, she smiled subconsciously. Standing awkwardly next to the basket, black shorts and a Slayer shirt on, he observed the situation on the basketball court. It was to be expected that Eddie, out of all of the people, instead of getting defensive with the ball, would just simply avoid any physical contact — both with ball and the jocks tossing it.

"Munson! Why the fuck didn't you do anything!" The furious yell of Jason Carver rang through the walls of the gymnasium.

Stacy's guts wrenched when she watched the blonde boy aggressively approaching Eddie. Quickly looking over her own friends, she was meet with three completely different behaviors — Debbie smiled widely, anticipating the possible fight. Angie was confused, not realizing what emotion she should display and Chrissy... appeared to be as equally worried as Stacy.

"This is gonna be good," Debbie whispered, full of excitement.

As expected, Jason pushed Eddie, insults flying in the air. Normally, while watching arguments between jocks, it was expected to be an equal physical exchange of aimed hits and punches. During this instance, however, Stacy watched Eddie backing down, frantically trying to stop the occurrence. Unbeknownst to him, it was only making Jason more livid.

If it was anyone else, Stacy would've acted in the exact same manner as Angie or Chrissy. Yet, feeling blood rushing though her veins, her fists clenching and her teeth gritting, she had no idea what drove her to call out, "Hey, Carver!" in the midst of the heated interaction.

"Stacy Harrington?" Jason turned towards her, a surprised yet indulgent smirk on his face. "Go back to Chrissy and the girls. There's no point in you getting involved in a boys' talk… Is there, Freak?" he asked, staring at Eddie.

"Don't call him that."

"Oh?" Jason exclaimed with his brows rises high. "Since when are you defending losers?"

"Since you're a fucking douche, Carver," Stacy hissed, stepping up as her muscles stiffened. "If you wanna play professional basketball go to your goddamn practice. Otherwise quit whining and blaming others for your nasty ego."

A whistling noises, quiet chuckles and abominable scoffs of disgust could've been heard amongst the people, who listened to the rapid exchange of sentences. Like a first thunder of the storm, a single flout escaped Jason's mouth.

"Let me tell you, Munson, you’ve gotten yourself lucky," he started, venom dripping from the words he was spitting out, "...to have a girl like Stacy stand up for you... she's either really, really desperate or wants a hefty discount on drugs."

"Leave her alone, Carver," Eddie interrupted him through gritted teeth.

"Or what? Honestly, I don't think there's any other logical explanation," the blonde ridiculed him, and turning his gaze back to Stacy continued, "And sometimes... girls should know when to shut u—!"

Jason had never finished his remark as his jaw was unexpectedly met with Stacy's fist. Having been wearing a set of rings, the punch became decisively more painful. So much so that the basketball player raised his hand to see a trail of blood leaving his gums.

"You should know when to shut up, Carver," she hissed, picking up the bag she dropped along the way and leaving the gymnasium.

"Stacy! Stacy wait!" panicked voice of Chrissy Cunningham called right after her.

Crossing her arms to face the girl right after they were outside, Stacy fought with her trembling muscles.

"I'm so sorry..." Chrissy whispered with the most genuine worry painted all over her face.

"N-no, I'm... Chrissy, you don't have to apologize," Stacy disagreed, quickly shaking her head. "I just can't pretend this is okay any longer... No one deserves to be treated like shit and...!"

"I agree with you," the cheerleader murmured, wrapping her hands around Stacy's whimpering ones. "I'll talk with Jason... and try to smooth things out."

With the words spoken, Chrissy embraced her friend into a comforting hug. Stacy fought with herself not to say, "You're too good for him", yet, decided not to complicate things any further. Thanking her, Stacy headed right back home. Imagining how ostracized she could become if it wasn't for Chrissy's promise, she flinched. Images of Steve being bullied were flooding her head.

Maybe it was the head cheerleader's sweet talk, maybe the respect she aroused, but the next day the only things she was faced with was Debbie deciding not to sit with her during their chemistry class and Jason eyeing her with disgust during the lunch break.

The rumor, however, spread so widely even her brother confronted her about it. Only a few days later, just as she was about to leave the house.

"Robin says you've punched someone at school," Steve chuckled while jumping on the kitchen counter. "Tell me more, because now I'm so invested," he added, watching his sister rolling her eyes.

"You've really became a noisy suburban mom since you’ve adopted Dustin and the kids," Stacy scorned, leaning on the wall opposite Steve. "A guy pissed me off, that's all," she confessed, wanting to cut the case as soon as possible.

"A guy?!" her brother called in an overly-dramatic tone.

"You know him... That shithead, Jason you've been playing basketball with," she explained evasively, fidgeting with her car keys.

"Yeah, he's eh."

"Eh?" Stacy repeated in the same, high-pitched tone her brother had just used.

"Just a dude. Like a normal cocky high schooler," he went on.

"He's a fucking bully!" Stacy argued loudly, her hands now plastered to her hips.

"You say so? Who does he bully? Eddie Munson, for example?" Steve questioned and only now his sister realized he had planned her interrogation. Starting with his usual idiocy, ending with her admitting the true reasoning behind her actions.

"Smart move," Stacy scoffed with a smirk, raising her eyes, "...but I won't be answering that."

"So Mr. Munson it is!" Steve quarreled with excitement in his tone, but as soon as he realized he knew as much as before, he called, "No, wait! That information doesn't solve anything!"

A victorious grin came upon Stacy's face when she replied, "I'll let you live in suspense then."

Hitting the doorframe with her open palm, she made a U-turn outside the kitchen, finding herself in the hallway, putting shoes on.

"Where are you going?" Steve was soon to follow her, a motherly notoriety devouring the tone of his voice.

"Munson's?" Stacy raised up one of her brows, visibly taking pleasure in annoying her older brother.

"Are you serious or not?" he asked in a grave tone. The second she opened the front door and shrugged, he repeated, "Stace! Are you serious or not?"

"'M not telling you," she mumbled, turning away as she felt a hand being placed on her shoulder. "Hmm?"

"If you need to beat up that Jason dude again, just tell me. Big bro's duties," he assured her, watching a soft smile entering her face.

"I'll keep that in mind," Stacy smiled, getting into her car. "Love 'ya, Steve!" she called after him, watching him pulling out his tongue.

"I don't!"

With a childish remark of flipping the middle finger and scrunching her nose, Stacy was soon to leave the driveway, making her way towards the trailer park she now knew like the back of her hand. In a few more minutes she was standing on the Munson's doorstep, her mood shifted the moment she saw Eddie's lighted up face.

"What a pleasure seeing you here, Stacy the Outrageous!" he greeted her, theatrically bowing before her.

"Oh, quit that," she chuckled, mechanically heading towards his bedroom. "Debbie Donoghue's comments are enough. And she doesn't even play DnD!" she called, throwing herself on his bed without slightest doubts.

"Yeah, sure, make yourself at home," Eddie waved his hand, watching Stacy hugging one of the pillows, her legs sprawled on his bed, her face buried in the mattress.

There was a moment of silence before they decided to speak. Stacy — not wanting to face Eddie right away, Eddie — not knowing how to express what was going on in his mind.

"I wanted to thank you," he started first, causing Stacy to rapidly look at him, supporting her weight on her forearms.

"There's no need, really. I’d wanted to punch Jason’s stupid face since Middle School," Stacy chuckled, glancing at Eddie, who sat on the edge of his desk, fidgeting with his guitar pick.

"No, buttercup. You don't understand," he murmured, beginning to pacing around his room in order to collect his thoughts. "No one has ever... No one did..." he stuttered, trying to find the right words.

Noticing his struggle, Stacy reached out for his hand, wrapping her fingers around it. Immediately resulting in their glances meeting, Eddie fluttered the dark lashes covering his chocolate-brown eyes.

"No one's ever cared enough to stand up for me, 'ya know?" he replied in a hushed tone. "I've never expected anyone to if I'm being honest. Especially not you because as you're saying your friends..."

"Oh, screw them," Stacy interrupted him, pulling his hand to make him sit next to her. Succeeding in that, she added, "They're not my friends if they think bullying you is entertaining."

Two soft smiles danced on faces of people sitting opposite each other. Eddie's hand was still in Stacy's, their knees touched due to the lack of distance between them.

"You should sit at our table the next time," Eddie joked, his signature smirk exchanging his previous expression.

"I can't."

"Sit?"

Stacy let out a loud chuckle at the tone with which he spoke, "No, Edds. Play DnD."

"Oh, that's not a problem," Eddie stood up, placing one of his hands on his hip, the other high in the air. "You have a limited offer of the Game Master teaching you."

"Something's telling me I cannot refuse it," Stacy smiled widely, watching his face features dramatically sink.

"Only fools take the risk of refusing me, Stacy the Outrageous," he recited in a low tone. "So what do you say, daredevil? Spring break is in two weeks, we can meet up and I'll explain the rules to you," he threw in, this time in his usual mannerism.

"I'd love that," she replied, still absorbed in his vivid expressionism.

This time, his pupils dilated, his mouth opened agape.

"You're not joking?"

Stacy bursted into laughter, biting her lower lip, "Of course not... Are you?"

She had never seen someone's eyes blinking so rapidly.

"Oh, god, hell no," he denied, turning his head as the grin on his face grew.

"I have to warn you, though... I may suck," she whispered in a suspenseful tone, getting up from his bed. "Can I put on some music?"

With the question asked, this time it was her, whose hand had been stopped.

"How about I play you a little tune?" Eddie asked, tilting his head towards the direction of his guitar.

"Just please not Slayer," she replied theatrically. Knowing it was one of his favorite bands, Stacy hoped to teased him a fair bit.

"You realize this room is basically a Slayer's cave?" Eddie furrowed his brow, pointing at the huge banner with the band's name on it. "Watcha want me to play then?" he asked before Stacy could come up with a reply.

"I, uh... I don't know," she stuttered, her confidence gone due to the softness of his tone. She was expecting a bittersweet bicker, not a wholehearted reply. "Something that we'd both like."

"C'mon, Stacy. That's not helpful," Eddie chuckled, taking off his electric guitar off of the wall.

"Then I have a challenge..." she suggested proudly, regaining her usual persona. "...play something that reminds you of me."

"Such a poser reply," Eddie smirked, watching Stacy crossing her arms. "I thought you wanted to show off your metal knowledge, not choosing the easy way."

Stacy scoffed, trying her best not to smile instead of looking offended.

"I'm just kidding," he added, grabbing his guitar pick. "I have a perfect song in mind. Catchy riff, best vocals."

With that, his fingers moved to the strings, starting to play a number Stacy almost immediately recognized. Sabbra Cadabra by the one and only Black Sabbath. As his hair moved with the music, his hands stroking the guitar, Stacy couldn't keep her eyes on anything else but him. It was just like having a tiny private concert, put on by a person that had become so dear to her on the span of the past few months.

It was until the first refrain passed Stacy realized she was familiar with the song a bit too well. So much so that she recalled the exact lyrics of the beginning of the second verse.

Feel so happy since I met that girl

Her eyes opened widely as the sudden realization came upon her.

Feels so good to know that she's all mine Gonna love that woman 'til the end of time

Out of all of the songs he could've chosen, Eddie decided to play her a love song. Her cheeks began to burn, flushing dark crimson. She had to dig her fingernails in the back of her other hand in order to bring herself back to the reality.

He couldn't possibly mean it, she thought to herself. After all, he mentioned he decided to play this song because of the riffs. At that moment, all that was going on inside of her head were mere excuses that were meant to drive her own attention away from the odd realization. The realization that despite being quite amiable petrified her.

"Can I ask for an honest review?" Eddie's voice interrupted her intrusive thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment.

"Hypnotizing," Stacy let out on one breath, her eyes fixed directly on him. Only then she noticed his furrowed brow. "I'm not just saying that! I honestly think you are pretty damn good," she corrected herself, erupting in laughter.

"Then you should come to one of our gigs," he replied cheekily, putting his guitar down. "We're kinda lacking in audience members at the moment," he said, laying himself down in bed, right next to where Stacy was sitting.

"No worries, I can make up for ten people," she joked, turning her head to the left to take a better look at him.

"Sure you can," he muttered, having no idea why there was a strange feeling in his stomach.

Not willing to investigate it further, he stretched out his arm to put on a radio, hoping there was already a cassette inside. To his dissatisfaction, there was none and the device began playing one of the default radio stations.

Grimacing at the sound of a pop song that filled his room, Eddie sat up, ready to turn off the volume before searching for a proper song to play.

"Wait," Stacy stopped him, a mixture of miscellaneous emotions on her face. One of the most prominent ones being mischievousness. "I hate this song so much."

"No shit. That's why I wanna change it," Eddie answered, having no idea what was going on in her head.

"Don't you dare! It's so bad it started growing on me," she explained rapidly, shifting, so her knees were now under her. "Angie kept playing this song on a shuffle for the whole summer and, hell! I despise it with so much passion!"

Eddie only managed to chuckled in response before Stacy broke into singing the song, matching her tone with its morbid autotune and girly voices of the two vocalist. Seemingly cheerful and sugarcoated tune turned out to have extraordinarily dark lyrics, which Stacy sang with the goofiest smile on her face.

"And as we sit here alone... Looking for a reason to go on... It's clear that all we have now are our... Eddie, don't laugh at me!" Stacy argued in the middle of her performance, burying her face in the pillows of his bed for a second time that day.

"What? I can't hear you. My ears are bleeding from listening to that cheap pop song," he complained, finally being able to put his metal mixtape into the cassette slot.

Again, the space between the two was almost non-existent. Eddie laid on his back, hands behind the nape of his neck. Plastered to his side was Stacy, who currently was dying from embarrassment. Still face down, she picked herself up, placing her head on Eddie's shoulder, simultaneously turning to the side. Her free hand traveled to the chains attached to his trousers as she carelessly started fidgeting with them. With a Judas Priest song now playing in the background, Stacy snuggled in, quietly humming the lyrics.

For a brief moment Eddie Munson could've sworn his soul left his body, only a presumptive shell of a person being present. His muscles seemed to be utterly relaxed, only to seconds later become abruptly tense. Not being able to start a sensible conversation, or rather, being petrified at the thought of saying something stupid, Eddie tried to swallow the gulp in his throat.

"I know I say loads of weird shit next to you… but I think you got used to that," Stacy was the one to spark up a talk, gently looking up at the man laying beside her. "...it's just so calm when I'm with you."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed, however, the tone of his voice didn't sound very convincing.

"Don't tell me you disagree because that's going to be more embarrassing than me singing that Strawberry Switchblade song," Stacy chuckled, embraced herself with her arms as a sign of self-comforting.

"Nothing'd be more embarrassing than that," he teased her, biting his tongue. With an immediate influx of confidence, he wrapped one of his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"So mean," Stacy scrunched her nose, gently punching his arm.

Mean.

A complete and utter lie.

Out all of the people Stacy knew, Eddie was the last she would've ever had called that adjective while speaking honestly. Through their few months of secret meetings and silent greetings, he had brought nothing to her but a good time and a peace of mind. With his silly remarks playing perfectly into his Thespian persona, the infamous Eddie Munson started playing such a major role in the life of Steve Harrington's younger sister. A role no one had ever played before.

"We've never talked about what you're planning on doing after you graduate," Eddie changed the subject, his hand now playing with Stacy's strands of hair.

"I was thinking about majoring in either Chemistry or Biology," she answered plainly, subconsciously hugging Eddie closer to her.

"Miss Hawkins wanna be a scientist?" His eyebrows raised high, his tone being enough to make her smirk.

"Kinda..." she mumbled and looking away she added, "...but I low-key have an awful experience with them... You?"

"Watcha mean me?" he chuckled.

"What do you wanna do when you graduate..."

"If I graduate," he corrected her, his suspenseful tone hanging somewhere in the air between them.

"When you graduate," Stacy talked over, now raised on her elbows to face him.

"No plans, buttercup. Just gonna drown in the puuure bliss of victory," he sang, his nose being flicked by her index finger.

"You're out of this world, Munson," Stacy smirked, placing her head back on his chest.

"Out of this world, you say?"

"Yup. Completely, utterly from somewhere beyond."

[yooniesim]

I honestly think it’s so ironic that Mack/Sunny/Solar Pirate/Maribel Madrigal (on Telegram) swears she’s changed her “views” but is behaving EXACTLY like Trump did when held accountable. Her “spreading false narratives about me” is his “fake news.” Which, by the way - what is the false narrative about her exactly? If you willingly throw your most powerful weapon in democracy (your vote) behind a racist, transphobe and overall bigot then you are one too. Simple math. If Cowbuild’s bigoted comments outside of the Sims community from 4+ years ago are welcome evidence to question her character, why wouldn’t Sunny’s from TWO years ago be valid?

Her “I risked myself to bring this community awareness so show me that you are worth fighting for” is his “I didn’t have to run for presidency, I did this to expose the corruption in Washington for you all so now you better help me stand against the radical left media.” She isn’t even ADDRESSING the harm she’s actively causing and is going full throttle into her paywall expose to regain her credibility. She doesn’t even have the stones to do it on Tumblr lollll. She’s run to Twitter where they are UNDOUBTEDLY unaware of who she really is. She gets to control the narrative in a vacuum in a way she can no longer do her. It’s also funny that she’s including HER OWN drama as “community drama” like…how full of yourself can you be? People calling YOU out isn’t community drama.

Let me also add that she fully intended to do an expose on Black simmers and black creators specifically with the intention of “exposing” how unethical “urban creators” are. Yes, she referred to black creators and their content as urban then went on to say how she found their cc “ghetto, tacky and gangster.” The only reason that happened was because one her mods on Dollhouse Mafia checked her about it. But sure, the racism thing is a false narrative. Fuck you Mack. There are better voices and if you aren’t who people say you are, you’d step down permanently and let someone else take the reigns. Someone less stained. That white savior complex and narcissism won’t let her though.

Ask 2:

(Excuse me for combining these, I'm going to have to start putting some asks together because there's a lot on the subject ahejdn)

Anyway, yikes. I agree with everything, nonny, but I want to highlight the DHM part since I had the second ask about the same thing. I had no idea about this, and obviously I have no proof other than anons. But I have heard a similar sentiment from others from DHM recently (Mack being anti-black there). That is disgusting and I'm so sorry y'all had to deal with that. I got an anon not long ago about the racial elements of the paywall issue that I still need to post, this reminded me of that. Do I think the paywall debate is something a racist could easily latch onto if they wished to have an excuse to attack certain creators without it seeming race-fueled... yes, yes I do.

Ask 3:

I'm so sorry, nonny. I agree, that sounds sus. The reason why I'm even more suspicious is the following ask (which i received a good bit before this one).

Ask 4:

If anyone has any proof of this, please post it. If Mack truly is working both sides while playing savior (which sounds like her), it's dangerous for anyone that might trust her with their personal info. I know she got kicked out of DHM, but there's a lot of people that still trust her elsewhere. Also, the fact that most people that she seems to associate with somehow get attacked, their accounts deleted, info leaked etc is also sus. Even among friends, she always comes out on top and unscathed somehow. Interesting.

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.