#it started out with interesting points but then it got repetitive

[smolstarthief]

Hmm... I kinda want to mention/discuss how Husk and Alastor have more in common than the fandom thinks and can even be interesting foils to each other but idk if you all ready for that tea yet... 👀

[dduane]

Hello.

I've seen you posting detailed information about the WGA strike and wondered if you had any suggestions as to how those of us not directly involved can show our support for the Union?

Okay, bearing in mind that all this is entirely subjective at the moment (and so far lacking any more useful input from other sources): a few thoughts.

This will be my third WGA strike. (My first one was in 1988, just after I'd made my first live action sale—s1e6 of ST:TNG). And the thought keeps occurring to me at the moment that this time out, there's a potentially gamechanging player on the field that wasn't there before: truly pervasive social media.

(Adding a cut here, because this goes on a bit...)

In 2007, social media as we now understand it was still in its cradle. Now, though, those of us who're striking can make our voices much more widely heard. And so can those of us who're not, but just want to show solidarity. Last time, the AMPTP was able to do pretty much what it wanted without the public noticing or having even a medium-profile way to make their feelings known. But this time? Not so much.

So as an otherwise uninvolved person who wants to show solidarity, I'd start with something seemingly low-value. If I was on Twitter, I'd start routinely tweeting about the strike and my support for it—not obsessively, just persistently, a couple/few times a week—using the Twitter hashtags that are gaining ground even now, such as #DoTheWriteThing (and of course #WGAStrike). I would make sure I was following @WGAEast and @WGAWest, to keep an eye on what's going on.

Additionally: I would start politely, but repeatedly—again, maybe once or twice a week at least, and not stopping—tweeting the various major players in the AMPTP, especially the streamers: Amazon, Netflix, Hulu et al. I would start suggesting that their current attitude toward the WGA's contract negotiations is not only unrealistic but potentially (for the AMPTP) bad for business. (And self-destructive, too, as if this goes on much longer in this vein, they'll be seemingly eagerly casting themselves as The Baddies.) I would suggest that their bad behavior, if not amended by them coming to the table to bargain in good faith, might start affecting both my interest in their shows and my willingness to keep paying unreasonable people for access to them.

I should emphasize here that so far there've been no formal calls from anyone for boycotts or subscription cancellations. For the moment, this strikes me as wise. The point for WGA-friendly observers, right now, would be to keep what's happening to the writers visible: to keep bringing it up: to refuse to allow it to be swept under the rug. The "They only want two cents on the dollar!" angle seems potentially useful the more it's repeated. The point is to keep the repetition going: to make it plain, day after day, that the other side's being not just unreasonable, but greedy. Day after day, and week after week, and (if necessary: please Thoth may it not be...) month after month.

And tweeting is hardly all that can be done. Email is cheap and easy. But actual letters, written on actual paper and mailed, can still create a surprising amount of attention in a corporate office. (The saying in TV used to be that for every person who actually writes in about an issue, there are ten, or a hundred, who feel the same way but never got around to it.) Write letters to all the AMPTP members' CEOs, and make your feelings on the WGA's core demands politely plain. ...Especially when those CEOs collectively made almost three-quarters of a billion-with-a-B dollars in salaries last year, when many of the writers working on their shows can't afford rent.

After that: here's another thought, a little more physical. If by chance you're in an area where one or the other of the Guilds are picketing: turn out and support them! Honk when you pass: and if you're interested, show up and offer to walk the picket lines with them. These things get noticed. (In 2007 a bunch of us, both Guild members and non-, caused significant astonishment by turning out to picket AMPTP members' offices in Dublin.)

...Obviously not all that many people are going to be positioned, in terms of location or their own work and time commitments, to show up physically. But online? Find ways to keep this issue visible. The AMPTP wants this to go quiet, wants people to get bored with it, wants people to find reasons to blame the writers. They've tried spinning the story that way before. Don't let them pull that shit. Find ways to back those who're calling them on that, publicly. They do respond to this kind of thing (though they may strenuously deny it). If enough attention continues to be paid by the general public, they will blink—if sometimes excruciatingly slowly, as Disney began to blink over the dispute tagged #DisneyMustPay.

As viewers, and as viewers who pay for subscriptions to things, we far outnumber them. Help be a part of making the AMPTP understand that this quest for a truly fair deal is not going to go away. And the longer they try to act like the Guild's negotiation positions are beneath their notice, the more it's going to hurt them, and the stupider and greedier it's going to make them look.

...That's all I've got for the moment, as I need some lunch. :) ...But I hope this has helped. And thanks for your concern, and your desire to stand in solidarity with us! It's so welcome. :)

ETA: here's a link to the Guild's social media toolkit, for those who'd like to change PFPs or icons, etc., to show their support.

[bandgie]

On Your Knees

ONE | TWO

incel!Seungmin x fem!reader

warnings! MDNI18+, drinking implications (no one is drunk) dubious??, pussy eating, face fucking (m!), hate sex (but no sex) seungmin is an ass (low key misogynistic), reader is kinda mean note! this is not meant to represent Seungmin or any of the members in any way. I just like the trope :)

2.7k words

The party was getting boring in all honesty. Truth-or-Dare is only fun for the first couple of minutes but gets repetitive. Same old questions on who you're fucking, if you're fucking someone, if you've ever fucked someone. The flat beer sloshes in your red solo cup as you sit on the floor of the living room.

You can tell Han is trying to come up with something interesting to ask Seungmin. Most of the somewhat funny questions were already asked, but Han still purses his lips as he thinks of something clever. 

"Okay, I got it!" He claps his hands. "Best pussy you've ever eaten. Go."

Ah, I guess that's something, you think as you divert your attention to the cross-legged man beside you. 

Seungmin is awfully quiet at house parties and looks as though he would rather be anywhere else. You don't like Seungmin, but you don't not like him. He's just a guy Han likes to bring around on occasion. You observe Seungmin raise an eyebrow, in surprise most likely. But what he says is even more shocking. 

"Never eaten pussy."

"What?!" Everyone collectively shouts at his admission. Now this peaks your interest as you stare wide-eyed at him. "No way," you can't fathom the thought of someone in college never tasting a cunt. "Are you a virgin?"

Your bold question makes Chan choke on his drink, coughing until the bitter liquid finally passes through. "Jeez dude, you just can't ask that."

"It's literally Truth-or-Dare. I literally can," you retort. 

The clamor of everyone settles as they wait for Seungmin to answer. Now that he can feel the pressure of everyone's eyes, he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm not a virgin," he says. "I just don't eat pussy."

"What the fuck?" You make a confused expression. "You don't eat pussy? Fuck does that mean?" Seungmin finally casts his gaze on you, acknowledging your presence for the first time tonight. "Exactly what I mean. I don't like it."

"You don't like it?" Han sounds exasperated. "You gotta be fucking with me. There's no way you fuck a girl and not want to eat her pussy." Despite Han being an idiot half the time, you agree with him. Every guy you've hooked up with jumps at the chance to eat you out and you know plenty of them would do it for nothing in exchange. 

To meet a guy who's never had the opportunity to only means two things, and you're praying it's not what you're thinking. 

"I just fuck to cum. I don't really care if she finishes or not."

It's worse than you could have imagined. 

The room goes dead quiet and you suddenly figure out why Han doesn't bring Seungmin around too often. His stiff posture, his blank expression, the way he hardly regards you in any manner. It all points to signs of the worst type of man. 

"So like what?" You can't help the clipped tone in your voice. "You some type of incel?"

Chan, who likes to keep the peace, says your name in warning. "Don't start." Though he means well, the fact that you're the one getting in trouble for speaking up only fuels your fire. "Don't start? He's the one who started with his dumb incel shit."

Seungmin scowls, "Ugh. I didn't even say anything bad. You're being so emotional."

The tips of your ears burn red and you feel your entire body heat up. You can hear Chan trying to diffuse the situation, but you hardly care about maintaining 'the peace' any longer. 

"Oh, fuck off," you sneer at Seungmin. "You can't even make a girl finish. Fucking incel virgin."

Now that does it for him. You see Seungmin tighten his hands into fists as his neck grows red. "I'm not a virgin. And I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to." He enunciates his words harshly, some speckles of spit landing on your face. Both of your jaws are tense, teeth clenching as you glare into each other's eyes.

A vein sticks from his neck and his lips are stretched back into somewhat of a snarl. With a flushed expression, you easily see his cheeks heat up in anger. It's here that you realize he looks good when he's mad. You hate it.

"Okaayyy!" Chan claps his hands three times loudly. "I think it's time to call it a night." Everyone tries to stand and talk about anything else, but Seungmin and you are too busy having your own little conversation to notice. 

"Never eaten pussy, can't make a girl come. Why you lying about being a virgin?" You mimic the vicious on Seungmin's face. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, "Whoring yourself out for a fuck. You're everything that's wrong with women today." 

This makes you laugh, "At least they make me cum."

If you thought Seungmin was mad before, he's furious now. You must have struck a nerve because he stands suddenly and spins on his heel to leave. 

But you're not done with the conversation. You raise on your feet and follow him, never ceasing to stop your vicious spewing, "Just be honest with me, Min. It's okay to have never felt a woman's touch. Not that you ever will, being an incel that is."

Seungmin hurries up the stairs of the house with you on his tail. You can't see his face, but you can feel the anger rolling off him. 

He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you effectively bump into his back. "I'm not an incel," he keeps his voice low, but strong. "Eating pussy isn't even all that. You just have an ego bigger than your tits."

You try and play it off with a scoff, but you feel your face heat up. You grope your chest offendedly; you like your boobs. "Not all that? Come here." Pushing on Seungmin's back, you lead him to the nearby bathroom and shove him inside. He stumbles and trips over his feet, shooting a hand out to balance himself on the counter as you close and lock the door behind you.

"Fuck was that for?" He whips his head around to glare at you, but he's surprised to be met with an eerie smile on your face instead. He gulps nervously, "What are you looking at?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "Looking at someone who's going to eat me out." Seungmin looks as though you've slapped him across the face as his eyes widen. "What? Who said I was gonna do that?" 

You're already hiking your skirt up to your torso, biting the cloth between your teeth, and showing the pretty little thong you put on in hopes of a hookup. It barely manages to over your clit and you can see the outline of your pussy underneath the material. With one hand, you use the tip of your finger to draw soft circles on it. Seungmin drops his eyes to your clothed core.

His Adam apple bobs.

"Come on," you wiggle your eyebrows playfully. "Get on your knees for me."

For a second, you think he's gonna walk out. He was so persistent about not wanting to eat pussy and his shitty attitude was...well...shitty. You begin to think that there's no hope for Seungmin, but he proves you wrong by bending one knee and looking up at you.

"I'm just going to look," he says more to himself than to you. "Just so you could stop your whining." 

His hands grip the plushness of your thighs as he stretches the skin. The lips of your pussy peek out at the movement, but Seungmin is far from disgusted. His ears pick up on the sound your cunt makes when he uses his thumb to pull and push the skin together. Slowly, he moves his hand up to pull your thong down, exposing the very thing he claims to revolt against. 

You shiver against his warm breath, his warm touch. You reach your hands down to pull up on the skin of your pelvis to further stretch your pussy. "Getting a good look, Seungmin?" You giggle at the annoyed expression on his face. His lips may be pulled pursed into a frown, but his eyes are wide with lust.

Seungmin is trying his best to hold back, but it's near impossible. Everything about you surrounds him: your smell, your soft skin, the way your voice echoes in the bathroom. He shocks himself with how much he enjoys watching your clit peek from your pussy lips and how the first signs of arousal make your entire cunt shine. 

"Shut up," he mumbles. 

You're thinking of a witty remark to snap at him, but you're instead pleasantly surprised with his lips ghosting over your core. Your body stills, letting Seungmin explore pussy on his tongue for the first time. He runs his lips over your own, feeling how soft and warm it is. Seungmin already knew how hot a cunt is, but tasting it on his lips is a whole other level of heat.

"Mmm," you hum at the sensation. "What happened to just getting a look?" 

Seungmin looks up at you, mouth still attached to your core. His nose bumps on your lower stomach with his hair tousled over his face. Before you can think, you brush the bangs from his face to get a good view of his form. The sight makes you groan, bucking your hips further into his face. Seungmin makes a hmmf! sound as you bury his face deeper into your pussy, but he makes no move to deny you.

It's not until you start rocking your hips that he finally sticks his tongue out. He starts at the peak of your pussy, letting the nub roll over his tongue experimentally. Seungmin notes how your legs shake when he does that. He feels your hips still so he could properly suck on that part of your cunt. 

The taste of you settles on Seungmin's tastebuds and he finds his tongue digging deeper into your lips. They dip down to your labia before going back up. He likes how soaked you make his wet tongue, how your hands twist his floppy hair to drive him deeper. He hates how much he likes it. 

Truthfully, you're in the same boat. His mouth may not be experienced, but you upsettingly like how he lets you ride his face. "See Sungie?" You say his name mockingly. "Not too bad, is it?"

Seungmin doesn't stay put in your cunt. This time, he pulls away from your throbbing core to talk back. "I never said it was goo- mmf!" As lovely as it would have been to hear his voice, you reason that his words may not have been as nice. You had gripped the back of his head and forced him back to your center, uncaring how he gently slapped the back of your thighs in disapproval.

"Just shut up and stick your tongue out." You're impatient needless to say. Seungmin can tell by how you keep one hand steady on his head while the other gives his cheek light taps. "Open up, come on." You probe the man between your legs until he finally relents, widening his jaw so your entire clit fits in his mouth.

You hum at his mouth taking your core in, "Good boy. See? You were made to eat pussy."

Then you hook one of your thighs over his shoulder and wrap that leg around his body until his face is pushed against you. His eyes widen, screaming at you as if saying this wasn't part of the deal! But the panic only makes you laugh. He can pretend all he wants, but you know the bulge in his pants all too well as you look down on him.

Grinding on his face is easy with you in complete control. You sloppily rub your cunt all over his tongue with his head following your movements. Seungmin groans and grunts in your cunt, but it's far from the disdain he was filled with earlier. His hips thrust into the air at the feel of your essence dripping down his chin.

His jolts make you chuckle breathlessly. "Fuck, just look at you. You wanna cum? You wanna cum, don't you?"

Screw his pride, screw any stupid podcast he's watched, he needs to cum. He wants to feel your pussy clench on his cock, not his tongue. Yet, he can't find it in himself to tear himself away from your clit. If you taste this good already, he can't imagine the savor of you creaming on his tongue. 

To not let a second go by without his mouth on you, he nods, looking up at you pleadingly. He's sorry for being a dick, for being an incel. If you let him finish in you, he'll never-

"Sucks to suck," you shatter his dream. "You're gonna make me cum. Don't move."

And he doesn't, but it's not because he means to obey you. You have Seungmin on his knees, mouth enclosing over your pussy while you tug on his hair and hump his face and you're not going to let him finish? At all?

Then there's no point of him being here. Seungmin should tear your grip off him and leave the bathroom, but he can't. Fuck, he can't. It's like you've put a curse on him, glued him to the floor with his jaw unhinged and tongue out as you grind on his face. 

It has to be witchcraft because why else would he still be here? Does he really like the taste of you that much? Maybe it's how you look; flushed, sweaty, close to a high Seungmin's never been able to bring a girl to. Seeing you so close to your orgasm makes him eager to stay, eager to please. And god, he loves how your clit twitches in his mouth.

"Shit," you curse. "Gonna cum. Imma cum all over your face. You want that? Want my cream all over your tongue?"

Seungmin would rather die than tell you the truth, so he responds by sucking harshly on your clit. The suction is enough to tip you over the edge, digging your nails into his scalp as you bend the upper half of your body over him. 

Your cunt pluses around nothing, but that hardly matters when you hear Seungmin gulping down your release. The very same man who claims to not like eating pussy, to not care if his partner finishes. That man eagerly licking you clean with his eyes rolling behind his head. 

You shiver and mewl as you cum, softly grinding your hips to come down from your high. "God- fuck! Put your tongue in my pussy."

He does, finally getting a feel of your walls for the first time. They squeeze and pulse around his tongue and he gives a few testing thrusts that you respond to positively. 

Fuck, you taste even better inside. 

Seungmin can't stop fucking his tongue deep inside you. Not even as you wrap your leg from him and straighten up. A part of you debates on whether or not to let him keep going. At this rate, he might make you finish a second time, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of that. Plus, you've been gone long enough for the other men to question your whereabouts.

You place the palm of your hand on his forehead and push him away. The shove makes him detach from your cunt with a lewd pop! as he catches himself backward on his hands.

"Geez. You're gonna lick it off," you pick your underwear up and step through the leg holes, ignoring how uncomfortable it feels on your sensitive cunt. Seungmin seems in a daze as you drop your skirt from your lips and adjust the material. Even as you walk closer to the mirror and touch up your make-up, Seungmin stays in place on the ground. 

He liked it. Dear god, he loved it. Even with the tent in his pants, he hardly seems to notice how his cock throbs when he can still taste you on his lips. You only face-fucked him to prove a point, but you changed the trajectory of his life forever.

Yet, you wash your hands and use a hand towel to dry yourself like you didn't just make Seungmin question his entire purpose. You throw the rag to the man on his knees, managing to land it on his lap. "Your face is soaked. Clean it before they see how much of a munch you are, yeah?"

a/n: idk why I was at work was thought "yk what would be hot? making an incel seungmin worship you" and boom, this was birthed. I kinda wanna make a part two I have ideeassss also two fics in one week?? who am I? thank you for reading!

[3hks]

How to Get Better at Writing Without Actually Writing

Are you looking to improve your writing without needing to write? I'll admit, I am definitely that kind of person--I have the hardest time even finding something interesting to write--despite that, I have noticed that my writing has vastly improved over the past year or two when it was hardly a hobby, and here's how I did it!

ANALYZE DIFFERENT WORKS

Yes yes, everyone tells you to READ, READ, and READ, even I will agree. However, unlike what some people tell you, you don't actually have to read all those classics like Heart of Darkness or The Hobbit. Of course, those books are very beneficial, but if you find no interest in those types of books (like me), then don't read them!

If you prefer reading casual stories posted by online authors, whether it be a fanfiction or their own, original story, it still qualifies as reading! As long as you are able to find a work that you particularly enjoy, that's all you need!

When reading, the key to improving at writing is to always study the story. Take a moment to look at certain words or phrases that stick out to you. How does the author use them? What do they mean? Keep track of the characters' development and how it affects them. Additionally, note things like powerful scenes, dialogue, and more to have an idea of how you can create something just as impactful. For example, if a text made you cry, think about how and why you reacted like that. This can actually help you re-create events that hold the same effectiveness, if not more!

To add on, if you really dislike reading just that much, then you can always analyze things like shows, movies, etc. However, this will prove to be less efficient because you often don't get access to the text behind the shows. Still, it's a good way to study the plot, characters, character developments, dialogue, and relationships!

2. PROOFREADING

No, I'm not saying that you should be an editor; this actually ties back to my first tip. Remember how I said that if you don't want to read classics, then don't? Well, this is because forcing yourself to read them is completely unnecessary (unless you like them or want to write like the author, of course). As a matter of fact, reading poorly written stories can be very helpful for improvement!

When we read books or novels that have obvious grammar errors, repetitive words, and choppy sentences, we will realize these mistakes and point them out to ourselves. Being able to scout out faults means that we are able to learn from them and grow! Noticing these things will also help prevent you from making the same or similar mistakes!

3. STUDY TIPS ONLINE

I used to go search up websites on Google whenever I wanted help with a certain topic. Of course, not all of the sites are reliable and/or helpful, but some point out good ideas that a couple of us just need! This can be especially useful regarding the things that we are unfamiliar with when writing. They can offer a base foundation and tips on how to start and finish!

They can also serve as a great inspiration for fresh ideas and new perspectives!

Yes, these three tips are pretty simple; however, I have found that they work very well for me! People vary from person-to-person, so it can't be guaranteed the same effect, but this is the best I got! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! <3

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[moonmunson]

electric touch - eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie hasn't had much luck with dates - not until you.

warnings: ppl being mean to eddie (only for a little bit!) and some discussion on eddie's penchant for kinda being used by the popular girls but there's so much fluff and some kissing at the end

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i started this when speak now tv came out and then completely abandoned it but she's my little brain child

When Eddie was in eighth grade, he spent a week rehearsing the best way to ask a girl out on a date. He practiced in the mirror every day, making sure to sound hopeful, but not desperate, eager, but not pushy. He’d almost given up and asked his Uncle for advice, but in case it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he didn’t want Wayne to be waiting for an update. 

There was a new horror movie premiering in the theater downtown, and he’d heard that scary movies were the best to bring a girl to - because if she got scared, Eddie could put his arm around her and protect her from the fictional monsters. 

He never even got the chance to ask her. He’d tried, to be sure. Monday morning of the next week, when he’d worked up enough nerve, he walked up to the group of cheerleaders she was a part of, and didn’t even open his mouth before the group of girls ganged up on him - asking him what he wanted, calling him a freak, telling him to get away from them. Later, the girl he’d been pining after approached him - sans clique - and apologized on behalf of her friends. She didn’t feel the same as them, but she couldn’t ruin her “reputation.” They saw each other in secret for half a year before she got a boyfriend on the basketball team. Typical. It hurt Eddie more than he was comfortable admitting. 

Eddie doesn’t love referring to himself as a cynic, but the repetitive cycle of being used by popular girls for a night of fun - fulfilling their dream of sleeping with the town’s resident bad boy before never speaking to him again, exhausted Eddie to the point of declaring that true love was a capitalistic ruse created to sell laboratory made diamonds. It would never work out for him, and he convinced himself that he was okay with that. 

For the remainder of high school, Eddie continued to play the part. Rich kids invited him to ragers and tried to weasel their way out of paying full price for his weed, even though they were buying with daddy’s money, not their own. He hooked up with random popular girl after random popular girl, always leaving immediately and feeling like shit after. But at least he was getting laid, right?

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Now, Eddie is sitting on the couch in his living room, meticulously arranging and rearranging Wayne’s automobile magazines that live untouched on the coffee table. Has there always been this much dust on them? He wasn’t sure, and the thought only offered a momentary distraction before the nerves swept him back into the electric current of anxiety running through his body.  

He’d already spent most of the past hour making sure there was no visible trash laying out in the open for you to see. He’d even gone so far as to make his room slightly presentable in case you wanted to go in. He wasn’t expecting anything - quite the opposite, actually. He was sure that you’d see the place he lives, turn around and walk out without giving him a chance, and never speak to him again. 

Logically, he knows that this won’t be the case. He knows that Dustin wouldn’t lie to him about your reciprocated interest. He’d spent the entire drive back to Eddie’s trailer for their Hellfire meeting trying to convince him that he saw how giddy his sister had been when she opened the door and saw him standing there. She’d known Eddie was coming to pick her younger brother up, and she’d put on mascara to greet him - as if Eddie truly knows enough about girls to take that as a surefire sign that you were excited to see him. Dustin hears you talking over the phone to your friends about him all the time, and he only shares with Eddie that what you say is positive - not wanting to disclose the nitty gritty. It’s not your fault that the walls of your adjoined rooms are thin, and your friends are loud. 

Still, Eddie is nervous. When he gave you his phone number under the assumption that you might want to call to check up on Dustin, he was shocked that you called days after the Hellfire meeting had ended, and Dustin had returned home. So shocked, in fact, that he wasn’t even the one who had answered the phone - Wayne was. When he’d heard the sweet lilt of your voice on the other side of the line, he’d practically shoved his uncle to grab hold of the phone. You sounded unsure saying hello to him - nervous and breathy and a little bit quiet, but not unenthusiastic - and Eddie knew that Dustin had been telling the truth. 

Eddie spoke to you for an hour that night before he worked up the nerve to ask if you might want to come over to watch a movie. “No funny business, just the sweet sight of David Bowie in tights that no other man would ever be able to pull off.” You’d giggled - a sound Eddie was determined to hear again - and asked how he knew that Labyrinth was your favorite movie. The truth was that he’d overheard Dustin complaining about how you chose it every time it was your turn to pick for family movie night, but he brushed off the question and said that he just “Had a feeling.” 

The sudden appearance of headlights beaming through the trailer window brings Eddie out of his reverie long enough to remember to wipe the dust from his hands onto his jeans. The sound of your car door opening and closing, and the crunch that your shoes make on the gravel pulls Eddie like a siren song from the couch to his trailer door, and the creaking of the wooden steps leading up to said door, has him pulling it open faster than he means to. 

You’re a vision of comfort. Of soft things. Of light wash jeans with no rips in them, of cardigans and sweaters and rose perfume. Your fist is raised in the air like you were about to knock, and for a moment, Eddie thinks this whole thing was a mistake. 

“Oh-”

“Sorry, I-”

There’s a beat of silence. The energy between the two of you is almost palpable - eyes wide and palms clammy - before he breaks the connection and moves out of the way for you to come in. He knows he can turn on the charm once you’re settled, but this has been the part he’s been dreading the most.

It doesn’t matter to his friends that he lives in a trailer. It doesn’t matter when there are beer bottles on the coffee table or old socks on the couch, he knows the guys won’t care. But as you step in, and your eyes begin to sweep over the small living room, the reality of his economic status has never felt bigger, or made him feel smaller. 

As he looks at you though, he notices the soft smile on your face. Taking stock of the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls, of the throw blanket laid over the top of the recliner. 

“The uh, the hats and stuff are my Uncle’s.”

“They’re really cool,” his eyes trace your movements as you walk along the edges of the room, arms at your sides, reading the puns and state names embroidered on them. “has he always collected them?”

Eddie makes his way to the couch, and sits - trying to direct his line of sight to the same ones you’re looking at. Trying to put himself in your shoes and guess what you might be thinking, but coming up short. 

“Wayne was a trucker for a few years,” you turn to look at him, to pay attention to what he’s saying. Eddie does a lot of stupid shit to get people to look at him, he knows that. It doesn’t matter that the expressions he receives the most often are sneers or ones of annoyance. Exasperation. But you look genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it throws him for a loop. “And then he got stuck with me, so he doesn’t really get to buy new ones anymore.”

“Stuck with you?”  

“I mean, yeah, kind of. It’s a long boring story,” Eddie claps his hands together and launches himself up and off of the couch, and you know to stop pushing. “Want the grand tour?” 

“Absolutely,” you nod. 

“Well, my lady,” you watch from your position by the recliner as he struts to the middle of the living room, puts his arms out horizontally at his sides, and bows deeply, “welcome to Castle Munson. The maid did actually remember to show up tonight.” 

“Oh yeah? She did an excellent job,” you huff out a laugh, and Eddie snaps back up to a vertical, a smile on his face that showcases the lines around his mouth. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

After giving you a short but enthusiastic tour of the main parts of the trailer and presenting you with the array of snacks he'd gotten for the movie, you both settled on the small couch in the living room. You'd had to resist the urge to curl up into his side, and instead curled up into the arm of the couch.

“Anything, sweets. Go for it.”

“How did you really know this was my favorite movie?”

“I’m psychic,” He taps his index finger to his temple a few times. “I didn’t tell you that?”

“Eddie.”

“Y/n.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” He matches your raised pitch - teasing, but not condescending - and you almost raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but you don’t know if you’ve reached that level of familiarity yet. 

“You don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to. I’m not weirded out or anything - just curious. Honestly, I’m kind of like, flattered, I guess? I don’t know.” 

Had you overstepped? Eddie’s eyes flit over different things in the room in rapid succession, and he exhales - you can almost see the cogs turning in his head - like he doesn’t know whether to keep joking or offer a moment of true vulnerability. You don’t think the latter comes naturally to him. 

“I heard Dustin complaining to Wheeler that you always pick it for family movie night. It seems like the kind of thing you’d like. Very dreamy and hazy, that kinda thing.” Eddie shrugs and looks off to the side, trying and failing to put on an air of nonchalance, but his tinted cheeks suggest otherwise.

“Is that how you think of me? Dreamy and hazy?” You duck your head to try and meet his gaze, and when he turns to look at you, you think it’s the first time you’ve ever truly seen him. The boyish, innocent version of him that he doesn’t allow to rise to the surface all that often. His charm is still there, and bright as ever, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he struggles to keep his eyes on yours. 

“Maybe. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” The smile that graces your features is so easy and genuine that Eddie has no choice but to beam his own right back at you. 

You settle into an easier silence for the remainder of the movie, save for the comments the both of you share. You think it’s especially funny when Eddie compares The Fireys playing volleyball with their own heads to a “Muppet snuff film on acid.” When it’s over, he grabs a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and asks if you want to smoke with him before you head back home. You decline, because driving while high makes you nervous, but you don’t mind sitting with him for a bit longer. 

“Plus, there’s one more room I haven’t given you the tour for, if you’re interested…”

“I get to see the King’s quarters?”

“More like the dungeon,” he gestures to himself, still clad in his Hellfire shirt, “but yeah, totally.”

“Lead the way then, dungeon master.” 

He looks behind himself to see if you’re following, and extends his hand back so you can hold onto it. It’s not like you’re gonna get lost - the hallway is less than ten feet, but it gives you an excuse to finally touch without overthinking it. Eddie doesn't care to ask whether the jolt of static he feels when your hands meet for the first time is because of your shuffling socks on the carpet or the nervous current running between the two of you. Guessing by the way you suck in a soft breath - one he could barely hear - he doesn’t think you care either. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“All I’m saying is Jareth’s a weirdo for wanting a whiny sixteen year old to be his queen.” Eddie is laying on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed in the air. When you’d entered his room, he’d shown you his favorite things before quickly ushering you to get comfortable on the bed. He said that he needed to have an in depth conversation about the movie you’d just watched. 

“The age gap is bad for sure, and she is whiny, I totally get what you’re saying, but-” You’re sitting across from him, elbows resting on your criss-crossed legs. 

“But? Y/n. Are you about to defend him?”  

“Let me finish!” You giggle and Eddie swears that he can feel it in his chest - another spark. 

“I cannot let you finish if you’re about to say what I think you’re gonna say. Morally. Ethically. I cannot let you finish.” In true dramatic Munson fashion, he sweeps his hands in front of him, palm facing out for you to see. He’s almost pouting, lips folded in and corners turned down.  

“What I’m trying to say,” you look pointedly at him to see if he’s going to interrupt again, “is that I think that his proposition isn’t so bad when you really think about it.”

“Well now I have to hear your reasoning behind this.” 

“Think about it. He’s offering her literally anything she could possibly desire, and all she has to do is love him back.” 

“Oh that’s all? I think you’re forgetting the part where he says she has to obey his every whim or whatever the fuck.” Eddie fights the urge to change his tone from teasing to serious - his heart twinging at the idea of making you uncomfortable. 

“You don’t think that love is enough? Or that maybe all love has a level of devotion attached to it?”

“I think my idea of love is too fucked to give you a real answer.” He’s refusing to look at you - gaze directed towards his ringed hands fiddling with the metal tab of the soda can, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I could fix that, if you wanted - make it all dreamy and hazy for you.” 

Eddie can feel the wires in his brain short circuit. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knows that he only has a few seconds to respond before you start to think that maybe you said something wrong, but he can’t seem to reconnect in time. All he manages is an out of breath - 

“Yeah?” 

“If you wanted, yeah,” you nod, like you’ve decided something, and slowly reach to pull his hand from the soda can - taking it with you and setting it down on the crowded bedside table. “I think you deserve it.” 

“Really?” He’s looking at your joined hands, but he doesn’t wrap his fingers around yours. Not yet. 

“Yeah, Eddie. Really.” 

His fingers finally wrap around yours as you pull him from his position on his stomach to lean over you - rising onto his knees and walking on them before planting his arms on either side of your torso. He can feel your breath, soft against his cheeks as he leans in and connects his lips to yours - once, twice, three times. 

That same sparky feeling that Eddie has been getting in his chest all night finally rumbles to life. Like a car being hotwired, he can practically feel your hands pulling wires he thought were long dead and breathing life back into them - rubbing them together until the spark catches and the engine starts. 

“That was-” You pull away slightly to look up at him, lovesick and dopey. 

“Dreamy? Hazy? I think those are two words I would definitely-”

You laugh, already pulling his face back towards yours. 

“Shut up and kiss me again, Munson.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: ahh! thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog i would appreciate it endlessly !!!

[roanniom]

King Steve flirting with inexperienced never been flirted with reader

Smartest

King!Steve Harrington x tutor!fem!reader

Read Part 2

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV/unprotected sex, teasing, coercion but consensual, King!Steve is a manipulative douchebag and is his own warning

“You’re really good at this stuff,” Steve says, watching for your reaction as you scribble math equations across the notebook paper. He can see embarrassment bloom across your features and he has to suppress the zing of triumph he feels. It’s so easy.

It makes him want to push it.

“It’s kinda hot.”

The pencil stops in its path and your eyes shoot up to his, brow raised.

“I’m not…that’s…you’re messing with me, Harrington,” you finally settle on in what you hope is a dismissive tone. Steve notes the way your hand writing becomes more shaky. He sucks on his teeth for a second before chuckling.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to be modest. Hot girl like you must be raking in the compliments.”

You shake your head but don’t look up from your work. Well…his work. The homework that you’re doing for him even though you were supposed to be tutoring him so he doesn’t fail algebra and miss out on basketball.

But his hand is suddenly on your knee.

“Look at you ignoring me. What, you tutor a football player that’s stealing all your attention? Nothing left for me?”

“I…I don’t tutor the football team,” you answer, dumb in spite of your high IQ. You look up and Steve’s grin is big, glad he could finally distract you. He’d gotten bored with the repetition of watching you do his homework. He’s got nothing else lined up today, might as well have some fun. It’s not like his parents are home and it’s a shame to waste a big empty house.

“Thought I was your favorite pupil,” Steve says in a mock whine, giving you puppy dog eyes that seem to short circuit your brain.

Bingo.

You can do his homework later.

“Y-you are,” you admit shyly. It makes Steve smile at you again and your heart bursts, the shriveled up crush you’ve been nursing for years finally being watered and rehydrated. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

“Good. Because you’re my favorite hot tutor,” Steve says with a wink. You swallow visibly at that and Steve laughs. “You’re still acting like nobody’s ever called you hot before and I call bullshit.”

“No….nobody’s ever called me hot before,” you say in a small voice. Steve’s eyes widen for a second. He’d been pressing on that point, not really thinking too hard about whether or not it could be true. It was just mindless flirting. And pretty lazy flirting, to be honest.

He takes the space of a second to wonder if he feels bad about your clear inexperience and insecurity. Instead, he feels a dark, sour tinge of excitement. Your obvious interest is an opportunity. He doesn’t take any time to analyze whether he should be ashamed of that thought.

“Do you like it when I call you hot?” Steve asks. It’s not a question. Not really. Not when he knows the answer is yes. But he’s angling for something as his hand slides up from your knee to your thigh. You drop the pencil fully and give your attention completely to him.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

“Do you like it when I do…this?” Steve ask, lifting your arm and delivering a kiss to the inside crook of your elbow. You squirm but a smile starts forming on your face.

“Yeah.”

“And this?” Steve asks, moving up to kiss your bare shoulder, just beside the spaghetti strap of your sun dress.

“Uhuh.”

Steve moves to the edge of his seat so that his knee moves between your thighs under your skirt. You squeak a bit at the new proximity. One of Steve’s large hands grips your waist, pulling you to him so he can mouth at the side of your neck.

“What about this?”

The feeling of his lips on your skin lights you on fire and you find it hard to keep responding.

“Oh…” Your thighs try to close, a sudden twinge of need at their apex urging you to seek out friction. You end up squeezing your legs around his knee which has pushed between them. Steve pulls back and smirks.

"Oh," he teases. He slides his hand over the slope of your hip, to your stomach and down to your lower abdomen over the fabric of your skirt. Steve’s heavy lidded eyes find yours. “You seemed to really like that, huh?”

“I….I….” you stammer, unsure of what to do with your hands so you drop them to rest shakily on his forearms. Steve leans forward again, dropping his wet open mouth to the curve of your neck and sucking.

“Oh…fuck,” you whimper broke my. Steve chuckles against your spit-slicked skin.

“How am I supposed to learn from you if you’re going to set a bad example like that?” he asks wryly. You blink at him, watching as his hands move to the buttons at the neckline of your sun dress. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly as your breathing speeds up, both with arousal and anticipation.

Steve undoes the top button with deft fingers. Instead of shrinking away, you arch your back almost imperceptibly towards his hands. Steve definitely notices.

“Ohhhh,” he says teasingly. “Or does the tutor want to learn a thing or two from the student?” His voice is lilting and light, but his eyes are dark. You look away for a second before looking back at him. Eyes the tentative. Nod small. Steve nods back along with you. “Okay then. We’ll first of all, we have to have the right workspace, don’t we?”

When you nod, Steve surprises you by standing up and swiping all the books, papers, and writing utensils off the dining room table and onto the ground in one broad sweep of his arm.

“Steve!” you squeal out in surprise, slapping a hand over your mouth. You know his parents are out of town and the two of you are alone, but when he grabs you and manhandled you to sit on the table, you suppress the startled shriek that tries to come out. Steve pulls you to the edge of the table and bullies his way between your legs, your thighs bracketing his hips. Steve’s hands return to the buttons of your dress.

“Then we have to gather the right materials. See what we’re working with, right?” He pauses, looking at you for confirmation as if you have any idea what he’s saying. You nod mindlessly and Steve proceeds to rip open the last few buttons, exposing your bra clad breasts. He hums in satisfaction as you cringe in embarrassment over the exposure. But all embarrassment leaves you when his big hands close over your breasts, squeezing and groping appreciatively.

“Mmmm yeah. These’ll do,” Steve hums before leaning in and kissing over where they swell out of their cups from the squeeze of his strong hands. You gasp when he yanks the bra down to expose them fully. Steve’s brows life. “These tits’ll definitely do.”

Next thing you know, Steve is kissing and sucking his way from one breast to the other, leaving you a twitching mess in his arms. You feel a hardness press into your apex beneath the skirt of your dress and it occurs to you that he’s turned on just like you are. Which is a stupid thought since he’s literally sucking hickeys all over you right now, but your lust addled mind can still barely comprehend that this is happening right now.

When you begin rolling your hips into that hardness, Steve takes notice.

Pulling back, lips wet, he grins at you.

“Me playing with these tits not enough for you?” he asks, one hand still fondling your breast. Lucky for you, he doesn’t seem interested in a reply. Instead he flips your skirt up, showing the dark wet patch that’s bloomed in your panties and - more importantly - the erection clear in his tight jeans. “That’s alright. It’s not enough for me either.”

You blink slowly as you watch him grind his hard on against your clothed pussy. The friction catches on your clit and you gasp, unable to take your eyes off the outline of the shape pressing against you. Steve takes your hand and brings it down between your bodies, squeezing to make you grip his cock.

“Feel that? You did this to me,” he says, almost accusatory if not for the chuckle. A possessive thrill of pride runs down your spine and you squeeze at him, making him grunt in appreciation. Steve looks up at you from beneath his lashes in a faux display of boyishness. “Gonna help me out here?”

You nod feverishly.

“Yes…I…please–,” is all you manage to get out before Steve’s mouth is on you. The kiss is deep and possessive and aggressive and you feel absolutely devoured. His hands feel like they are everywhere at once, paradoxically, as he pulls at you and grips you and grabs you. So distracted see you by his mouth and tongue that you barely register a moment of cold air hitting between your legs before the warm slide of something hot and thick rubs against your opening.

“Now for the big lesson,” Steve says, the corner of his mouth curving lasciviously. The fat head of his cock teases at your clit, making you sink your nails into his arms. He’s big. Huge even. And that’s the last thought you have before he’s begin to slide himself inside you, splitting you open.

“Steve!” It comes out in a rush with all the air he punches out of you with the penetration. Steve kisses your neck and hums.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”

He bottoms out and there’s nothing but your ragged breaths to fill the silence for a moment before he’s pulling out, causing you to reel again.

“I know it’s big, baby, I know,” he coos. The taunting cockiness should put you off, but for some reason it heats you up even more. One his hands finds your clit and you let out a moan at the expert circles he begins to rub in.

Your walls relax with the stimulation, and your increasing wetness makes it easy for Steve to begin fucking you in earnest.

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

His words ring in your ears and it feels like everything begins and ends with Steve in your line of sight.

“Oh…oh…” you moan with each inward stroke. You’re rocketing towards a climax better than your most lavish fantasies.

Steve Harrington is fucking you. On his dining room table.

Your arms are around his neck, but eventually he pushes you down so your back is flat against the wooden surface. With his hands on your hips, Steve holds you steady so he can piston his hips at a break neck speed. Your entire body rocks against the table, Steve’s eyes focused on the bounce of your breasts with the force of each thrust.

“This is so much better than homework, fuck!” he groans out. You let out a breathless laugh at that and Steve looks down at you. “This is what you wanted, right? For me to fuck you all this time?”

The embarrassment surges up again but he hits a spot deep down inside that makes you whine instead. Steve takes it as confirmation.

“Bet you’ve been wet every time you’ve come over here. Just hoping I’d fuck this - fuck. This tight little pussy.”

“Yes. Yes, Steve.”

“Yes, Steve,” Steve mimics your pathetic, breathy confession. He’s close himself now, and his fingers are sure to leave bruises from the force of him squeezing you. “Next time I should just bend you over while you’re doing my work and fuck you. How’s that sound?”

You don’t say anything, too far gone at this point, and Steve laughs.

“Probably wouldn’t be able to keep doing my work with my cock in you. Makes you too brainless apparently.”

You’re practically drooling as you gaze up at him with hazy eyes, seconds from your orgasm. You being so out of it is what’s doing it most for Steve.

“Christ, look at you. Smartest girl in school and here you are, fucked stupid. It’s so. Fucking. Hot.”

And you - someone who until today had never been called hot ever - find yourself breaking into a million pieces with his words. Your orgasm crashes over you and you spasm around him, back arching off the table as you let out a massive cry.

~*~

Over time you are able to build up to a point where you don’t go as brainless. Eventually you’re able to kind of still do his homework as Steve fucks you.

But inevitably during every tutoring session there comes a point where Steve hits that place inside you just right, and his filthy words filter into your ear - and you go dumb.

Just the way he likes it.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog and comment to let me know!

Read Part 2

[bentwolioo]

Ok so why did Gerard wear the same costume for 6 shows???

Like a lot of people, I noticed the Aotearoa (NZ) & Australia tour drum head messages seemed to be about 9/11. The costume also tells a very specific story that lines up with this--and there was more to Melbourne Night 2 than Gerard deciding it was casual Friday. I'm gonna go through my personal interpretation and explain why I think MCR did this at the end of their tour. 

TLDR: This Is Not The End.

I will include image credits in the reblog since there are a lot!

AUCKLAND, March 11 2023

Based on the skirt suit and drumhead ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’, Gerard is dressed as an office worker. For simplicity I will refer to the costume as the Secretary, I see it as both a character and a metaphor. Auckland establishes the monotony and repetition of daily life prior to 9/11, ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’ showing an attitude of boredom unaware of the events to come. 

BRISBANE 1, March 13 2023

The main difference between Auckland and Brisbane 1 is the briefcase. This indicates the point in time--Auckland is the days before 9/11 and Brisbane 1 is the morning before the attacks begin. The secretary travels to work, thinking ‘Everything under Control’.

BRISBANE 2, March 14 2023

The drumhead message ‘Here Comes the AIRPLANE’ marks this as minutes or even seconds before the towers are hit. Brisbane 2 is the first time Gerard wears the coat, representing everyone taking cover. 

MELBOURNE 1, March 16 2023

I unfortunately could not find a good photo of Gerard wearing the coat from this show but you can see it on the floor behind him!

The Melbourne shows are as the towers collapse. Pretty straightforward from the Melbourne 1 drumhead ‘TERROR’. This show also had the only appearance of the umbrella, which I interpret as representing the rubble and destruction raining down. The umbrella is closed, showing the secretary is unprotected and ultimately killed when the towers fall. 

MELBOURNE 2, March 17 2023

It seemed odd at first that Melb 2 was the only show that Gerard didn’t wear a costume for, but I actually believe he still did. This is the key to my interpretation: Gerard is dressed as himself witnessing the towers collapse, on his way to work at Cartoon Network. This the only show on the Oceania leg where they played Skylines and Turnstiles*, the song Gerard wrote immediately after 9/11. The drumhead ‘BARK BARK BARK’ makes you picture, a chained dog, representing the powerless horror of only being able to watch as the destruction unfolds--the deeply personal experience that drove Gerard to form MCR. 

SYDNEY 1, March 19 2023

Blood!!!! At Sydney 1, we see the continuing aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. The secretary has died but keeps moving, picking up her briefcase and carrying on. This could be showing how a lot of people’s faith in the US government and in the world died, but life had to find a way to move on. 

SYDNEY 2, March 20 2023

At Sydney 2, the addition of Gerard’s white contacts shows the Secretary decaying--but she has not stopped. Frank changed the drumhead message from ‘UNKILLABLE’ to ‘UNKILLABLES’, expanding the meaning from the context of his accident in Sydney to include the band, the fans, and on a wider level everything MCR represents. 

I think all of this is a metaphor for the band’s career in multiple ways. Firstly, the Secretary being undead of course reflects MCR’s return, and her zombified appearance aligns with the imagery of their new era (decay, swarm, the destroyed buildings of the stage set). Secondly, it is very interesting to me that they did this sequence of costumes and drumheads at the end of their headlining tour, rather that at the start. The story they told seems to imply a rebirth--MCR was ‘born’ out of the trauma, pain and confusion of 9/11, so the fact that they represented the start of the band on stage signifies a second beginning. 

(Thank you for reading to the end and if I got anything wrong please let me know!)

*EDIT 1 (23/03/23): They actually also played Skylines at Brisbane 2. I do think the position of Skylines in the Melb 2 set is still significant. They played it as the first encore song which mirrors it being the first MCR song and written shortly after 9/11.

EDIT 2 (30/03/23): So actually 8 shows of Secretary Gerard when you include Japan! Tokyo and Osaka analysis here

[cdroloisms]

always absolutely fucking hilarious when sbiers in their self-righteous need to assert themselves as better than everyone else in the same way they've done since 2020 even when they're apparently 'out of the fandom' and consider the whole thing cringe and dead (skill issue, methinks) go all um acktually no one cared abt any of the lore except for c!sbi. like well for one thing i don't know of a c!sbi personally speaking i'd like for you to point out to me where character sleepy boys inc ever like, existed, because it certainly wasn't in any dream smp i watched like is there even a single moment where the four of them interact together alone??? and secondly, it's always reeeeeeally obvious when they mean this as a diss on The Other Side Of The Fandom (read, dream team and co) when two-thirds of the dream team just did nawt have any interest in being part of the 'main characters' in the first place and would much rather do their own thing and roleplay in ways that wouldn't get picked apart for ages on twitter dot com, and the other member of the dream team played a character so integral to the lore that even c!inniters will often name him before they name their own goddamn guy because they cannot keep his name out of their mouths (see, the meme i saw like literally just yesterday that boiled down to me, after learning the dream smp lore: i need to kill c!dream). like bro yall are c!inniters you're not fooling anyone you think that the entire story revolves around this one teenager being abused and then completely ignore the months of abuse that was shown on screen for us before exile. "c!sbi" like cmon now guys the ao3 pages are like, right there, we all know who ends up being the villain for ur sbi fanfic that has its foundations in a dynamic that literally never existed in canon.

like "no one cared about anyone's lore except for wilbur and tommy--" well yes they were in fact some of the main fucking characters. imagine someone going up to you and going "well no one cared about the lore in the star wars original trilogy except for luke and leia" like damn really?? (now imagine this same person trying to convince you that darth vader's role was unimportant, actually.) like yeah the dream smp involved a lot of separate storylines and each of those storylines might've had their own "main cast" of characters but i'm also not blind bro, the story that started at the start of the fucking server and the start of the fucking lore was ABSOLUTELY the "wilbur-dream-tommy" triangle that is, in fact, the story that the l'manburg revolution was built on and the story that remains the throughline literally until tommy and dream have their confrontation with a nuke coming down over their heads, something that the characters themselves acknowledge with the repetition of the idea of tommy and tubbo against dream. LIKE ALKJSDFKJSADF yeah bro there were main characters in the tommy-dream-wilbur story an that's also the story that people tended to be invested in in the beginning, to the point where even other self-contained stories in the dream smp absolutely referenced and emulated it (cough cough, las nevadas). like, why are we acting like it's at all groundbreaking for people to be invested in THEEE fucking story the one that first started to exist because at the time basically no one else was part of The Roleplaying Trio and then slowly got padded out and developed as the server developed more and more into the lore server?

and it's the fact that none of these people, too, would deny that they care about ex. c!schlatt in manberg, right, or c!quackity in relation to c!wilbur's deal, etc etc whatever. like breaking news you gaf about The Story as a dream smp fan wow am i supposed to be like, surprised. do you want a medal. LIKE LKJASDJF

[lurkinggirlie]

Elain & Azriel are EndGame

Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts

This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)

Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)

1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.

We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain)  would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.

2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed. 

3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential  ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.  

4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had  a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm*  that would be very out of character for Azriel. 

5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either. 

6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later… 

7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..

He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.

I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”

Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it. 

The bonus did not happen at the end of the book 

If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus. 

We know the bonus happened after solstice.

Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.

Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything. 

Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded. 

If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.

aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.

Not everyone has access to the bonus.  

The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important.  Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did. 

Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE. 

But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace. 

Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these. 

Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me)  (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for 

The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain

Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter. 

Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???

His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter. 

Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor

Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen

Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk) 

Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)

Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something  (her journey is coming next) 

Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!) 

Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing. 

Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally 

The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad 

In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.

Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy.  Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.

To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"

Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next. 

Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening: 

If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!

1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream 

If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies”  to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers?  We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing. 

If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC. 

Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know 

[signedkoko]

Hi again~! Your first batch of valentines are super cute, you did a great job! Also, I would be honored to be 💙 Anon if you’d like! Sorry for responding late, but I didn’t want to clog up your inbox! Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to come off anon. 😂

I have a fresh request for you too, I hope you’ll like it! Would you please do romantic headcanons or a little oneshot (I’ll let you decide which you feel like!) for Vox and f!reader going out dancing? I got the idea in my head recently and it won’t go away! Like just imagine him taking reader to one of those 1950s style nightclubs with the big ol’ dance floors for a night out—I think it’d be so cute! 😊

Thank you as always for all your hard work!

-💙

Rum Punch [Romantic]

In which on one random boring night you bring up how you miss dancing at clubs, and Vox only wants to make you happy. Reader is female.

Song - Don't Start Now x Hung Up Remix

There was nothing peculiar going on for you or your husband tonight; just normal days highlighted by seeing one another. There was nothing wrong with repetition, of course, you were both comfortable and happy as you were most nights.

But tonight, you couldn't help but feel inspired by the various songs switching as Vox scrolled through sinstagram. 

"If you like staring at me so much, why not take a picture?" The voice blurted from your phone, and when you looked down at it, Vox's head had taken over the screen. 

Rolling your eyes, you swiped the screen, which caused his visage to switch back to his main monitor. 

"Not you, though I know you just love the idea of being my only focal point." Your neutral expression shifted into a smile, enjoying your usual teasing. 

"I was just feeling..." As you trailed, the overlord leaned toward you expectantly. "Inspired?"

Reaching over, you pressed a button on the side of his screen, which immediately closed off his face and opened up his home screen. An angry grumbling came from your phone again, and you couldn't help but laugh as you used his monitor to look up the nearest club. 

He swatted your hands away once you finished typing, and his face came back with a look of annoyance. 

"Listen, if you want to party so bad, I'll take you to a party! Best of the best, every celebrity you could ever-"

"That's sweet and all, but I mean a real party—an old club with a big dance floor and shitty drinks!" You stood up, holding your hands far apart as you expressed the size of the dancefloor. Vox only sat back, sinking into the couch. 

He looked up to the sky as you jokingly showed off some disco moves to exaggerate your point, though he stopped you when he held up a hand. 

"Well, if my baby wants to party, then party we will! But I get to pick the place." 

. . .

Only an hour later, the two of you were dressed and on your way. You argued that you didn't want to draw any attention, so he begrudgingly called a cab instead of his usual driver. 

"So! Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Not even a hint?"

Vox only shook his head, though he laughed at your interest. Hell had a fuckton of bars, most shittier than the rest, so he made sure to pick a place he had minor ties to, that way he could ensure your safety.

Not that he would tell you that. He knew you liked the authenticity of being a stranger to others, but you should have thought of that before you said 'I do' to hell's most known man. 

When you arrived, Vox could see the excitement creep onto your face upon seeing the club. It was run down, certainly, but it had a full parking lot and the music was blaring. 

He seemed quite proud of himself, knowing he'd done a good job, but he quickly straightened himself out and offered a hand to you. In no time, the muffled music turned into a rhythm your heart could beat too, surrounded by friends and couples dancing together. 

This was certainly old school—older than you expected—it was tacky, but it was perfect. Everyone's heels tapped on the waxed pine floor, which made every step louder than it seemed and filled the room with the drum of dozens dancing. 

It looked to be some kind of tropical theme, with fake palm trees along the walls and many colourful cocktails with pineapple wedges or mini umbrellas. 

All the chairs were wicker, along with the tables, though those had glass slabs on top of them to protect from the likely hundreds of spills this place saw per night. The seating surrounded the dance floor, most tables had a few people who would take turns on the dance floor. While you were interested in the warm-toned string lights hanging around the ceiling, Vox was interested in grabbing a drink. 

"For the lady, a rum punch...and I'll go for the blue Hawaii." There were almost too many options, but you couldn't go wrong with the classics. 

You were still distracted taking in the scene as he leant against the bar, glancing at you with a chuckle. He was sure he could have picked anywhere and you'd have been happy, but he liked to think he did a good job. 

"You know, this sorta scene really reminds me of my startup in hell." A drink in each hand, Vox let you take a sip of both before handing you the one you enjoyed more. As always, you stared at him when he drank, probably still weirded out by how a monitor drank. Vox chose to ignore it as per usual. 

When your gaze never left him, he figured he might as well continue. 

"Val and I have known each other a long, long time. He got into business before me, and you know his thing. He'd go to every nightclub in the city, trying to find people who'd hear him out." Vox stiffed a laugh, seemingly amused, thinking of Valentino's struggle to fame. 

"He needed a cameraman, and I was better than nothing. But cameramen were easy to hire, so quickly I was moved to handling the website, and you know the rest from there." He turned his monitor to the dancefloor, his now mostly empty drink placed on the table you were standing by. 

"Places like these were all the hype. We went from scouting in them to blowing our paychecks in them to owning them." In his peripherals, he saw you down the last of your drink, sitting it next to his and pumping your first in the air. 

"Here's to the past! And how much better it feels looking back on it than being in it." You dropped a lighthearted comment to pull him back to the present, grabbing his hand to drag him into the mingling hot bodies dancing as if they were going to die tomorrow. 

He had to duck and squeeze between everyone, seeing as you were far smaller and could get through easier. But eventually, you were in the centre of the dance floor, facing each other. 

"Are you sure it's okay to dance after chugging a drink?" 

"I can't hear you! Just dance dumbass!" He could hear you just fine, but he shrugged it off with a grin, seeing you bust out the same moves you had in your living room just a few hours ago. 

Only this time, he grabbed one of your hands and joined in. 

Song after song, you two were never further than a few inches from each other. While Vox focused on keeping you close to him, you were busy singing out the lyrics to songs he didn't even know you knew. He made sure everyone saw that you were all over him, and he was just the same back, to make sure there were no incidents with stupid demons thinking they could take you away from him. 

Even in the heat of dancing, Vox would always be jealous enough to worry about others looking at you. 

But those thoughts were easily distracted when you'd pull him in for a kiss or push up against him, asking him to do a move with you. 

A few drinks later and the night was a blur shaped vaguely like you, something that danced around his head until, eventually, he could remember that you both had work the next day and needed to leave. 

When you left the building, there were only a few cars left in the parking lot, the building having mostly cleared during the handful of hours you'd both spent there. 

Vox was holding you in his arms, bridal style, while you held loosely onto the heels you really shouldn't have worn. 

This time, he called for his driver and let you comfortably lay in the back with your head in his lap, his claws carefully tracing through your hair and scratching your scalp. He could tell you were half asleep, but still coming down from the high of the club. 

"Vox."

"Mhmm?"

"Thank you for taking me out," You paused as if you had something else to add, but when the pause continued for what felt like minutes, Vox realized you'd passed out on his lap. 

For once, his grin was nothing but a careful smile, his hand leaving your head to rub circles into your shoulder. 

"Thank you for reminding me what it felt like to be human."

Author's Note - This was SO HARD TO WRITE but not because of the story 😭I was so excited for this prompt, but I had a 7hr exam right before I started this, and then I finished it at 8 am after being awoken by the window cleaners PRESSURE WASHING MY WINDOW. Scared the hell outta me!

Anyways im rambling, tysm for requesting blue anon! I am so glad we have an indicator for you now 🖤

Word Count - 1,432

[orshii]

Will I Ever See You Again? CHAPTER 1: Last To Fall

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x reader

Warning: cursing, violence, blood

Word count: 4,6 k

Summary: You were left alone with your brother, Yunho, and his best friend Hongjoong, after your parents' death. Yunho had someone to grieve with, but you? You had no one as your brother and his best friend pushed you away, singing becoming your only savior. There was one rule that Yunho made inside his friend group: “Don’t touch my sister”. And for this reason, Hongjoong had always kept his distance. But one night, you find yourself in danger. And from then on, Hongjoong does not leave your side. He is suddenly overprotective of you, and your relationship shifts and becomes fraught with tension and unspoken feelings, with secrets lurking beneath the surface and a painful past haunting you. Will you find out the secrets your brother and best friend have been keeping away from you? Will you be able to finally free yourself from your cruel past?

Will you fall in love amidst the chaos around you?

A/N: Finallyy...the adventure starts everyone!! Yayy, I really hope you are going to like this whole rollercoaster, I really tried with this one. Please look forward to this story, as it has a really special place in my heart. Before reading, or while reading, please listen to WTF by Sasha Sloan, as it is included in the story. Okaay, enjoy!! hehet.

Taglist: @bvidzsoo @vixensss @deltamoon666 @scarfac3 <3 (taglist is still open if you are interested)

I stepped onto the stage, darkness tightly hugging around me as I became one with it. I stood by the microphone, waiting for my bandmates to settle down. They nodded once they were ready and the lights suddenly blinded me as everyone could see us now. I felt vulnerable for a second, but when Yeosang, my best friend, started playing the acoustic guitar as he gave me a reassuring look, I finally got the courage to start singing.

♪ Sometimes I got a hard time seeing the point to existing ♪

My vocals resounded around the enclosed space as Yeosang accompanied me with his guitar, representative of our real-life connection. He has always followed after me, guiding me, holding my hand if I needed a little extra support. 

♪ Sometimes I got a hard time

Seeing the good in the chaos ♪

And then Jongho joined in with the drums that sounded like thunder, followed by San, who was our bass guitarist. I looked over to him as I sang, our gazes connecting as he smiled at me, telling me everything was alright with his soft eyes. These boys gave me the strength I needed to step out in front of the world and sing about my feelings.

♪ Am I the only one losing my mind? 

What the fuck am I doing here? ♪

It was weird singing about my feelings right in front of so many strangers, who came to the pub either to get laid or just have some fun. The thing is, that I feel more comfortable singing in front of people who I don't know, because I know they won't judge me. They are only here to enjoy themselves, listen to my singing, which is more like background music to them after a certain amount of alcohol has made it inside their systems, however, sometimes they would sympathize with the lyrics, I could easily see it in their eyes.

♪ Stuck in a one-man circus

Trying to find some purpose

But it’s unclear  ♪

Singing, was the only thing that kept me going after all the bad things that have happened in my life. I could escape my feelings like this, letting them out into the world. This was the only time when I allowed people to see the real me, my real feelings, because the second the music was over and people cheered, my mask was back on and my emotionless self was back again, showing no interest in anything at all. I was back to the state of not feeling, of being a robot who had to just simply survive. Days mushed into one, monotone and repetitive, there was no fun in being alive anymore. But still, something kept me going, something kept me alive, and I wasn't allowed to leave, yet. 

I had nobody except my brother, Yunho, whom I love the most, and my only purpose in life is to make his easier, so he doesn't have to suffer like me. We went through tough times together, and we had to stick to each other in order to survive. I have always tried my best, and I still do everything I can to support him. 

Speaking of him, I have to be at his boxing match in ten minutes. I quickly hurried backstage, where my bandmates were and hugged them tightly. I was happy to see them, and grateful that they were doing this with me. We have created our band just for fun, no serious intentions were put into it, however, we got an opportunity to perform some nights at a pub called, MIST. We asked the owner a few times to let us play, and in the end he allowed it. I guess it was an escape for all of us. An escape from a cruel world in which we couldn’t truly be ourselves. 

I ran towards my car with Yeosang trying to keep up so that we wouldn't be late to the match. 

"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked me as I drove off fast once we were seated inside the car. I really didn't want to be late.

"Yeah, of course." I briefly glanced at him. He saw how tired I was, so he was worried. I haven't slept well at least in the past three years, so my face kinda always looked like. Some people may think I was a living zombie, so I get it.

"You sang beautifully tonight." He smiled at me proudly.

I felt the urge to smile back at him, "Thank you, for being there for me too." I didn’t look at him, but I knew he was still smiling.

"I had no choice, I was the one playing the guitar." Yeosang teased with a chuckle.

"Mhm, so I am forcing you to play now?" I gave him a quick side glance.

"No, no." He put his hand on mine as it was on the gearstick, "I'm glad I can play alongside you, it's an honor, Milady." He grabbed my hand and gently pecked my knuckles. 

I chuckled as after running a few traffic lights and avoiding traffic as best as I could, we finally arrived to the Boxing Club. A few people were still outside, smoking a cigarette or waiting for someone, so this meant that the match hadn't started yet. We went inside the building and there were already a lot of people sitting in the grandstands. The air was a bit cold in the big hall. Some people stood around the boxing ring while behind them there were seats available, our reserved ones being among them. We went over to find them as I could feel excitement overcoming my whole body. The atmosphere was full with anticipation as everyone was here to see some fist fighting between bulky and angry men. I had no idea what the rules of these boxing matches were, but when my brother was in there, I felt like if anyone tried to harm him, I was going to get inside that ring and punch the motherfucker until he’s passed out. But to my luck, Yunho was one of the best boxers here. He was tall and well-built, and he didn't have enemies in this little town that would come to challenge him. Everyone feared him.

And he rarely lost too. One of the few occasions when he did lose, was against his best friend, Kim Hongjoong. He was shorter than Yunho, but he was strong still, and since he was smaller, he had the advantage of being quicker as well, so, he outplayed Yunho. Even though Hongjoong lost one of his teeth that one time, he was still smiling proudly over his win. I had a feeling that Yunho maybe let him win.

Yunho and Hongjoong have been best friends since forever. Hongjoong was kind of part of our family at this point as he had lost his own family in a car accident, and my father was there for him, together with Yunho, trying to breathe life into Hongjoong again. After a while, my dad started taking care of Hongjoong as if he were his own son, and one day I woke up to him suddenly living with us. Yunho and Hongjoong were like brothers and I was so envious of their relationship, because Yunho never told me anything, he never told me what he was feeling, he pushed me away, only letting Hongjoong in. I hated it, I hated that I was left alone, alone with my thoughts, with my feelings, after our father died. It was tough for everyone; the three of us were left without a parental figure for good now. Everything just seemed so suspicious to me, I didn’t know anything about how my father died, about what happened to him. Yunho and I were alone now, but he had another sibling to grieve with and I had to stay strong, alone. It was the three of us, yet they pushed me away like I was some stray cat, unworthy of their time and attention anymore.

I looked over at Yeosang, and I smiled as he sat next to me, looking around with big puppy eyes, taking in the atmosphere. Suddenly, I felt the urge to hug him. He was by my side from the second we met last year, when we bumped into each other as both of us were trying to find our next class, realizing in the process that we both were music majors. From then on, we did everything together. He kind of brought me back to life, he was a real sunshine in my life as his blonde hair lightened his beautiful face with a glow always to it, his birthmark under his left eye making him look even more ethereal. I have always admired him, and felt lucky that I had bumped into him. So, I hugged him, hiding my face in his neck, his scent enveloping me, offering me peace. He smelled like orchids, that's why my favorite flowers were orchids. 

He chuckled, "Okay, you’re acting strange, Y/N. Are you sick?" He pressed his palm against my forehead, checking if I had a fever. 

I smiled, "No, I’m not. I just wanted to hug my best friend, is that such a bad thing now?" I moved closer to him, not wanting to let go just yet.

"You never hug me, sorry, but it is strange." He looked down at me, smiling.

"I know…that's why I'm doing it now, because I'm glad you’re here, with me." It was rare that I expressed how I felt, I wasn’t the type to vocalize my thoughts so easily. 

"Yeah, me too." He hugged me tight and warmly. I felt safe in his arms, never wanting to let go of him.

After we killed the time by goofing around, finally the match started and we were waiting for my brother to appear in the ring, so that we could cheer for him. Kim Hongjoong was the first to compete against a big guy, so buffed up that I was kind of worried he would break Hongjoong into pieces. Both participants prepared for the fight, and when it started, Hongjoong looked like a little bunny next to the big man. However, Hongjoong never failed to surprise me with his strength as he attacked his big opponent with two perfectly timed strikes. The guy had no choice at all, Hongjoong didn’t even give him time to try and attack him. The man just blinked, and then he was on the floor. The crowd cheered for Hongjoong as he fist bumped the air as he celebrated his quick win with the crowd. 

After Hongjoong, more men fought inside the ring and it was becoming boring. They were playing the cat and mouse game, but finally one of them punched the other one and he was knocked out so hard that the ambulance had to be called. Nothing too unusual. 

Finally, Yunho appeared inside the ring with a confident smile, his opponent being Song Mingi, his other best friend. They had a very interesting dynamic, always glued together, they acted like I imagine soulmates would. I have always adored their friendship; it was unbreakable and full of respect. I really wouldn’t be surprised if one day they announced they were in love, really, I wasn’t blind, I could see the tension between them. I could see the way Yunho looked at Mingi, his eyes having a particular glint in them as if Mingi was his whole world, Yunho always only saw him. Yunho not only had Hongjoong by his side, but Song Mingi as well.

It was shitty when you had to compete against your best friend, but, may the better man win. They were standing in front of each other, both tall, but their bodies shaped differently. Mingi was always quick to dodge the strikes, but Yunho was merciless, and he never stopped. The crowd went silent as the thick tension between them made everyone shut up and follow their match on the edge of their seats. I knew Yunho well, and I was sure he did not care about the fact that he was going to kick his best friend’s ass in no time, because he only wanted to win. He was addicted to the rush he felt when winning. May you be lucky enough to never encounter Yunho after a match he lost, his rage scary and dangerous. I saw how Yunho and Mingi murmured to each other, something only they could. Mingi seemed a little off today, like he wanted to be anywhere, but here. Yunho, on the other hand, continued smiling confidently and quite smugly, not even noticing the expression on Mingi’s face, which seemed to be screaming that he didn’t want to fight against his best friend. 

Yunho was the first to attempt strike against Mingi, and he hit him straight in his ribs. After a few more tricks and moves, all we could see was Mingi trying to hit Yunho, but my brother dodged all of his poor attempts. Mingi seemed to have loosened up a bit as a smile appeared on his face. Suddenly, they smiled at each other, it seemed like a friendly match between the two, until it wasn’t anymore, until Yunho suddenly managed to strike some counter kicks and hits at Mingi and he was on the floor, his mouth bleeding. Mingi looked mad, disappointment showing on his face. But he suddenly got up and hit Yunho straight in the face. Yunho was taken aback, so he couldn’t fight back for a moment, and Mingi managed to hit him once or twice. But Yunho was the type to never give up, even if he had only one unbroken bone. The crowd around us suddenly roared with such loudness I wanted to cover my ears, especially when they cheered because my brother got hit, I didn’t like that. But Yunho suddenly got the strength to hit back, and that was Mingi’s last chance. He was on the floor after getting showed against the iron bars aggressively and roughly, now barely able to move from the pain. I felt sorry for Mingi. Yunho was so blinded by the rush of adrenaline he got, that he didn’t even realize that his best friend was on the ground, bleeding, because of him. This side of Yunho had always scared me, I didn’t recognize him when he was like this. And I was sure Mingi was fighting his inner demons as well, trying to understand Yunho somehow. In the end, the referee raised Yunho’s arm into the air, announcing he had won against his best friend, who had stormed off angrily towards the changing room. 

A few more matches passed, and then in the next one Hongjoong lost against a guy who seemed to know every calculated move of his. The guy easily dodged Hongjoong’s attempts, and quickly gave a few strikes back, straight into Hongjoong’s face and ribs. Hongjoong was breathing quickly, and my heart started to race. I was a bit worried for him as the guy tried to hit him again, but he dodged it, and punched the guy’s solar plexus. The guy fell to the ground, but it seemed he was a tough guy, and he got angry as I watched Hongjoong tell him something. That was when the guy moved forward quickly and stroke Hongjoong in the ribs with force, immediately making Hongjoong pass out. The crowd stood up at once, myself included, as Yeosang followed with a gasp, all of us shocked as we couldn’t believe the fucker knocked Hongjoong out.. The referee announced the guy as the winner, and finally, Hongjoong slowly opened his eyes, barely moving as someone helped him out of the ring. So, Hongjoong was out of the competition. After that, Yunho had a few more fights, Mingi as well, but in the end, Yunho was announced as the number one winner of the night. 

When the matches were finally over and the crowd started to slowly disperse, I waited for Yunho so I could congratulate him. Yeosang had already left as he needed to go home for some unknown reason to me. I was near the ring, but nobody was in the room as I read briefly over the history of boxing displayed on the walls. There were a pair of old boxing gloves on a shelf and I took it into my hands, wanting a closer look.

"Wanna learn?" A sudden voice from behind made me jump a little.

I turned around and saw Hongjoong coming my way, freshly showered, wearing a black tank top that tightened around his upper body perfectly, paired with black sweatpants. He had some fresh bleeding cuts on his eyebrows and lips, his two-colored, black and blonde hair was still wet, falling into his eyes. The colors of his hair kind of represented his personality. I knew he had a bright side that he only allowed Yunho to see, and whom he felt close with. And he had a dark side, which I have known from the beginning as he was always unnecessarily protective and mean with everyone. He had a really bad reputation, and he was a bad influence on Yunho. That’s why I hated him as he made Yunho become part of some dangerous gang, the two doing some illegal shit together. These things never ended well…

"Not really." I shrugged, and placed the old gloves back in their spot. 

"Come, I'll teach you some tricks. It may come in handy, and who knows, you may have to knock out some bastards." He said, motioning with his hands to follow him as he jumped up into the ring.

"When is Yunho coming?" I asked, looking up at him.

"In a few minutes. He is currently yelling at Mingi, so until they finally figure their shit out, come." He reached his hand out towards me, so that he could pull me up beside himself.

I sighed, and with a frown grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull me up. I suddenly felt worried about Yunho, I didn’t want him to fuck up whatever had been lately happening between him and Mingi. On the other hand, I didn't understand why Hongjoong was suddenly acting like this. We were never really on good terms, but we also weren't on bad terms. It was always as if the other wasn’t there, like we grazed past the other. Most of times, it was Hongjoong doing this, so, after a while, I started doing the same. And yes, I started hating him as well, because I felt jealous of him stealing my brother away from me.

I put the gloves on Hongjoong handed me. It was a weird feeling, but if I’m being honest, I would gladly punch him in the face with these gloves on or off. Preferably off, would feel more real.

"Can I punch you?" I blurted out without thinking much. 

"No? Why would you?” He looked at me with a frown, “Wasn't it enough when that other guy just knocked me out like I was nothing but a feather?"

"No, it wasn't. I want to be the one to knock you out." I tried to scare him as I hit the air in front of his face.

"Okay, okay, chill out, sugar." He grabbed my wrists, "You'll have another chance to take me out, but it’s not now." He said with a smirk, and I scoffed at the realization of how he meant it. Hell, no. I wanted to punch that smirk off of his face.

He started explaining how to hit someone in the solar plexus so that you knock them out immediately. I could practice as he held his palms up. I held my right hand in front of my face, because like he said, one hand must be there to protect your face. With my other hand, I punched his palm. Left-right, then right-right, and so on. After a few strikes he said that I could practice some more on his abs as he pulled his tank top up. I gulped seeing his toned abs, bruised with black and blue marks on his ribs.

“God, you are so bruised. I’m not merciless enough to hit you in this state, Hong.” I said, my eyes still on the cruel bruises. 

“Don’t worry, sugar. You only need to hit my lower stomach now. Try and find my solar plexus, but you can’t hit me strong enough to knock me out.” He smiled confidently and took his lifted-up top between his teeth, his hands held up behind his head, waiting for me to strike. 

Oh, so I couldn’t hit him strong enough? At first, I softly punched his stomach as he was watching me with eyes that made me feel like I was his prey and he’d pounce on me any minute now.

“C’mon, sugar. You can do better.” He said, taking the top out of his mouth just so he could talk to me.

“Fuck you.” I snapped, getting angrier. Suddenly, I struck him with all the strength I could muster up, aiming at his solar plexus only. It felt good. I started cackling loudly when I successfully hit him hard enough that he hunched over, trying to catch his stolen breath.

"Okay, okay, I think you've got this now." He raised his hands in the air in surrender, "But next time, you have to get it right away. It hurts, but it has to be the perfect timing if you want to knock the other one out." 

He stepped closer, reaching his hands out, one settling on my lower back and the other on my lower stomach, "You have to hit right here, without missing." He said it in a low voice, whispering it into my ear, his warm breathing sent shivers down my body as it tickled my skin.

“Your strikes are good, but if I wasn’t an unmoving target, I could’ve knocked you out in seconds, your left-hand needs to be here.” He raised my left hand slowly to hold it in front my face, “You need to protect that pretty face of yours.” His face was emotionless, I couldn’t read his features.

“You couldn't protect your dumb face, from that guy who knocked you out.” I said, getting angrier.

He chuckled, “Okay, sugar, fair enough.” He stepped even closer, watching me with an unnerving hunger in his eyes.

“One last thing.” Slowly, he let his hands travel down to my inner thighs, close to my knees, and made me stand in a wider stance, “You need to stand balanced so that you can put all your power into your fists.”  

Fuck this, I didn’t sign up for this. He really just touched me without asking for permission first, acting like he could do anything to me without it there being repercussions to his actions.

“Can you like, not touch me every time you try to explain something?” I snapped with a glare as I got more furious because of his actions.

Hongjoong looked at me with a surprised look on his face. I guess he didn’t even realize he made me feel uncomfortable. I was seconds away from recoiling and hitting him hard, showing him just how easily I could knock him out if I really wanted to, but suddenly Yunho was shouting at us.

"Hands off my sister, Joong!" Yunho approached the ring just as Hongjoong quickly jumped back, putting a great distance between our bodies.

"I just wanted to teach her some techniques she can use in the future." He raised his hands again in the air, genuineness showing on his face as he slowly walked near Yunho. Now he was acting like he was the hero and I was some damsel in distress needing his help, how funny.

"Let's hope she won’t have to use them, then." Yunho looked at Hongjoong with deadly eyes. This always happened when I was the subject of their conversation, they acted like I wasn’t even there, they talked about me like I was an object. 

There was a stupid rule that Yunho had come up with, “My sister is off limits, if you try to touch her, I'll just simply kill you.” And this rule did work because no one really dared to even as much as look at me. I hated it because I never had the chance to have fun. Yunho was always there in the shadows, letting others know that, “If you touch her—well you know what happens.” 

I have always felt like I was a princess held in a big tower, wanting to desperately escape...

"Let's drink something at MIST." Yunho said, sounding a bit angry and tired. He reached his hands out towards me, helping me off the platform.

"I thought you were coming home, that's why I waited for you." I jumped off the ring, accepting my brother’s help. It was alarming how cold I felt without Hongjoong by my side.

"I want to celebrate, come drink with us." Yunho looked at me through his dark eyelashes, his black hair still wet from the shower. 

"Nah, I'm tired, I'll just go home." I said, rubbing my face as I fought against a yawn.

"Do you need a lift? Hong can take you home, I came by bike." He pointed at Hongjoong, who finally jumped off from the ring, ready to take me home.

"I came by my car, so I don't need a lift.” I said, looking at Hongjoong with a sharp glare, “Alright then, see you at home, don't get shitfaced." I turned around and walked towards the exit.

"Drive safely, and send me a message when you have arrived!" Yunho shouted after me.

I just lifted my thumb up in as a silent way of telling him okay, and left the building. The weather was a bit chilly this evening as I was headed towards my car, trying to find my keys in my backpack full of notebooks and torn out pages. As I was walking towards my car under the moonlight, my mind was whirling around with thoughts accompanied by an unfamiliar melody, that I have noticed I started making up lately very randomly. The words that came to me had the potential to be even some lyrics, but it wasn’t anything I have heard before. It was my own song.

≫ The feeling of being drowned in your thoughts,

Trying to find someone who’ll jump to save you. ≪

I have never wrote music before, I thought I wasn’t talented enough for that, but this melody that lately had been playing in my head made me want to write these random lyrics down, so that maybe I could create something special too one day..

I finally found the keys to my car, and I sat inside my black Honda Civic, igniting the engine to life. I suddenly felt hungry, so I decided to stop at a restaurant, called Granny's, on my way home to order some takeout. It was a fifteen-minute drive from where the boxing matches were held, and after I arrived, I went inside the restaurant and ordered some chicken wings with french fries. I patiently waited around a bit for my order to be finished, then I paid and said my goodbyes.

I was currently headed to my car, grabbing the keys from my pocket, food in my other hand, when suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I had no time to think as I suddenly found myself on the dirty ground. I hadn't even reached my car, it was blocked by two tall figures dressed in all black, and as I looked behind myself, I saw two other men staring at me like they were going to kill me right then and there.

A/N: Ty for reading, just one thing, if that Yungi fight scene caught your eyes (wink), my best friend @bvidzsoo, wrote a behind story for them on AO3, I recommend it is very good, I died.

「Series masterlist」 <Next part>

[buggyandthebartoclub]

Date Night Headcannons featuring Law, Penguin, Shachi, and Barto with NSFT included for the lovely Heart Pirate Homie Hoppers @guilty-sugar and @mandiemegatron <3 (plus Barto... you know... as a personal treat..)

NSFT Content warnings: No gendered language for reader of any kind used, Pengun's mention of/implied oral sex, Shachi's contains mentions of sex while mutually intoxicated (alcoholic ice cream), and implied unprotected sex/finishing inside, Barto's includes mentions of implied oral sex and biting A/N: This can be read as canon or modern au - some activities listed as possible date ideas are modern things but can easily be substituted for canon verse activities if you want Heed the warnings stated, this is an 18+ self ship blog, all posts subject to possible 18+ material - this post does contain NSFT content

Law

He does have the date planned out but he wont tell you that whatsoever, and when he asks you out it almost sounds like a threat but you can tell by the way Law is only looking at you from the side of his eye while scowling with a deep blush dusted across his cheeks that he's genuinely interested in a date night together, further confirmed by the smirk that spread across his face when you accepted

Is cleaned up and dressed nicely in all his usual clothes but new shirt in a darker black than he already owned and some additonal jewelry (a chain and two rings), and his usual boots that he spent the night before polishing while arguing with the boys about whether or not he should wear a flashier shirt to your date

He will open doors for you and pay for the bill but don't expect him to pull out any chairs for you or go giving you his jacket because you're cold. He would just stare at you deadpan and tell your ass no. Should've planned for the weather better

Takes you somewhere like a little hole in the wall bookstore or antique shop where y'all could look around and maybe snag a few things (books if at the bookstore, and coins for him and whatever catches your eye at the antique shop if you go there), pays for your things but only if they're reasonably priced and WILL shame you if you pick out anything too expensive or what he deems stupid. As long as it's not overpriced he'll still buy it for you even if it is stupid though

Spends most of the date listening to you talk and asking pointed questions to keep furthering the conversation without adding much until you get onto a topic he actually has a pointed interest or knowledge in, though he does actually love listening to you talk about your interests (as long as you aren't getting repetitive or into asinine details... he can show some irritation on his face creep out in those moments. You only get to repeat yourself one or two times before he bluntly calls you out on it unless you've been together awhile then he just sighs deeply and does a little circle in the air with his finger to signal you to sort it out and hurry it up)

Absolutely will tune out and ignore you for a whole hour on your date, absorbed in his book while y'all just coexist peacefully if you went to the bookstore, or will enthusiastically tell you all about the coins he found if you went to the antique shop. In the case of the coins, he tries to act childish and calm at first but his passion and neediness will overpower that as he rambles endlessly to you about his coins, completely steamrolling over any questions or comments you have until he's done talking

Fully expects a goodnight kiss and is pleased as a peach when he gets one. Sinking into your lips and letting his hands slide onto your hips, he's got you melting into his chest in moments

Is an absolute tease in bed, loves edging you and running his hands all over your body, sliding his nails lightly down your side to watch you squirm at the sensation, licking and nipping at your skin and blowing on the damp spots his makes, relishing in the noises he draws out of you

He'll do foreplay for hours, until he gets bored or his hands start to cramp whichever comes first

Then he gets absolutely sex drunk, unable to do anything other than shut his eyes and let his head fall against you, fingers digging into your hips as he loses himself to the sensation of your body around his, taking almost no time at all to finish, he uses a condom but h'll still pull out and pull it off at the end just so he can come all over you

He will do some aftercare and its adequate, dogshit at any sweet-talking after, the deed is done its time to clean up and get ready for bed, though he complains about snuggling, he does automatically go to snuggle with you when y'all curl up under the covers together, but he quickly stops talking and closes his eyes and tells you to shut up and go to sleep if you ask him if he wants to stop snuggling

Will just leave in the morning unless you tell him before hand you want to do breakfast, though he will make you some coffee and make sure to leave a note if you don't do breakfast. Otherwise he will absolutely make you a small and reasonable breakfast he makes you come to the table for and will even eat with you before he leaves

Penguin

Total sweetheart who has the whole date planned out in his head before he asks you out but completely changes to something different once you accept the date because he thinks everything he came up with was not good enough for you

Dresses to the nines, and he definitely makes sure to dress in an extra layer so he can offer you a jacket if you get cold (don't expect his hat though unless you've been together a long while, in which case, he usually has his old hat with the puffball on it stuffed in the jacket pocket for you just in case)

Complete and total gentleman, by far the most considerate of the Heart Pirates listed. That means doors are opened for you, chairs pulled out, he's not even going to let you think about paying. it has nothing to do with how he sees you and all because he wants you too see him as capable and dependable, someone who cherishes the relationship you have together and always will

He would definitely be brushing his hand against yours, distinctly looking anywhere BUT your hands, until you finally hold his hand and he'll look your way with the dopiest smile and bright flush to his cheeks, pulling you closer to him as your fingers tangle together

No matter how well he plans though he always forgets something, whether it's simply the music to the star lit picnic, or something big like tickets to the actual even y'all had planned to go to (thankfully usually just small things! The big ones are a rare occasion, and always beats himself up more than you could ever even think of hinting at towards him and he always makes it up to you even if you insist it was nothing to worry about!)

Cheek kisses are all he ever lets himself hope for in the beginning and absolutely falls over the first time you sneak a quick peck to the lips instead, and absolutely melts into your whole touch when you let him have more of you

His insecurities come to light when y'all are intimate, not that it dulls his enthusiasm or technique, but you can deftly tell he's always a little nervous, always a little worried in the back of his mind if you're really enjoying your time with him or if he's what you really want, because he surely doesn't deserve this here with you right now, but a few well placed kisses and sweet affirmations whispered in his ear and he's completely fine for the session, worried abandoned until next time

LOVES giving/pleasing you in any way, especially with his hands and/or mouth, he's fantastic at foreplay and oral. Enjoys receiving but is insecure about how he looks and sounds the whole time so he tends to avoid it and go straight into pleasuring you.

Does great aftercare and will snuggle you all night long, he doesn't care what part of his body goes numb from you sleeping on it, he just wants you there as close as possible.... until he eventually does have to adjust, but he will still be big spoon if you let him readjust so his arm wont go numb)

Absolutely brings you breakfast in bed from a cafe or bakery nearby and will have even gotten a few extra goodies he hides in the bag for you to have as a treat to yourself later after he has to leave for work

Shachi

Has plans but they’re not meticulously thought out, there’s wiggle room for change of plans if y’all decide to switch it up and go w the flow for the evening or leaves room for y’all to head home and duck out for a night at home if you find yourself overstimulated or not up for being out

His plans? Pizza and laser tag followed by a trip to the alcoholic ice cream store before heading home together

He tries to look nice but casual, by that he means he put on clean cargo pants and shoes and metal band tee with NO puns on it (despite what he really wanted, he took half of penguins advice when he was told quotes and puns on a shirt for a date was a no go), a jacket w a fur trim on the hood (think loke’s jacket from fairytail) 2 band bracelets, and a couple of rings, and he even got law to paint his nails black (if only bc law didn’t want black nail polish all over the fucking floor if they did it themselves), plus his hat and sunglasses 😎 of course.

He will give you his jacket if you get cold, but reluctantly and expect him to complain about being cold, he would much rather you just snuggle up in the jacket with him than hand it over

Is respectful by all means but definitely is not as overt in his gentlemanly ways as Penguin is, despite Penguin's best efforts to instill in him this is a DATE and he should act like it, Shachi can't help but treat you like he always does, the bestest friend ever that he's totally in love with and comfortable with (and super horny for, he finds that important to add, to himself silently in his head of course lol)

Pays for everything but isn't offended if you pay, in fact it really flatters him and makes him give you the "AWHHHH Babes!! You didn't have to do that!"

Does absolutely take laser tag way too seriously and goes for blood in the laser tag room. Thankfully yall did a few rounds w a group so it didn’t start directed at you. But it does quickly turn into an almost all out bully session after a few rounds when the groups disperse and you do a few rounds just y'all

He wasn’t mean by any means but he definitely had sooooo much fun at your expense he’s in tears clutching his stomach by the end and you’re trying to keep up your pout, trying not to crack in laughter at the ridiculous sight of him rolling along the floor like an idiot

He DOES apologize after though and holds your hand as your get boozy ice cream and is really sweet letting you get anything you want and giving you puppy dog eyes to let him pretty please try a bite of yours he’ll share his (he just wants the attention and to share bites of y'alls spoons together the SAP)

Literally can not stop complimenting you and especially after the boozy icecream he is one sweet word after another… along with sweet warm touches as he giggles and begs you to come back to his room with him, whimpering and whining the whole way back about all the things you do to him how it isn’t fair how riled up you get him

Seriously he can not shut up, you have to start making out with him when you get back to the room just to get him to stop and even then he’s moaning groaning whimpering and whining, he’s absolutely sooooo noisy and it’s even worse when he’s tipsy or drunk

Will be biting you all over and licking and kissing each spot tenderly after to make up for it but you’re gonna have some marks on your neck and inner thighs, your lips even a little red and tender

Dont worry he will ENTHUSIASTICALLY try to make up for his roughness and you’ll love every minute of it

Drunk Shachi will beg and plead the WHOLE time cum inside you, acts like he’s in literal bliss while he’s fucking you, talking about how perfect you feel, how you make his brain mush and we’ll you take his cock while begging and pleading to cum inside just this once please there’s no WAY he can finish anywhere else and be satisfied

He will viciously snuggle you after and throw an absolute FIT if you try and disentangle from the whiny little furnace he is so be prepared to quickly clean up w a shirt that’s tossed aside and pulling up just the sheet bc that man is already attaching himself like an octopus and he is OUT

WILL give you rubs and sweet kisses and take you out for breakfast in the morning if you wake up sweaty sore and grumpy tho and give you his softest clothes to wear out since it was your shirt you fuckin grabbed to clean up w the night before

Barto

Has plans and they are meticulously thought out long before he has the courage to ask you out

His admiration of Luffy evident even his dating life as he makes plans inspired by Luffys interests and adventures, looking to recreate excitement his idol has enjoyed for his next favorite person, you! He totally plans to take you out on a treasure hunt for the best food, fight, or fun such as the new arcade he found last week right before he finally asked you out

However, he is totally willing to scrap any and all plans if you're not up for something so thrilling or adrenaline pumping, and won't even be disappointed about it, he just wants to impress you (almost as much as he wants to impress Luffy)

He even takes a bath and cleans his clothes/piercings, brushes his teeth etc before your date on his own accord (after a possible hint that being clean might bolster any physical intimacy chances), what a good boy! Even puts on some brand new nipple rings for your viewing pleasure!

Absolutely will give you his jacket if you get cold, hell he'll tell you to keep it! It looks so much better on you anyway! Although that does leave him shirtless shivering in the cold but he absolutely will not complain about it if that happens

Brings you weed flowers and you love them because there's lots of pokey green thorns and they remind you of his mohawk and he blushes and stutters when you tell him so and thank him with a kiss to the cheek

Absolutely gets excited and starts babbling at lots of points during your date, often bringing up Luffy, but also surprisingly manages to bring it back around to y'all and tie in his babbling so at least the conversation is somewhat participateable, not that you mind, his hilariously sweet devotion to Luffy is one of the many things that endeared you to him in the first place

Frequently gives you extravagant over the top compliments throughout your date, even going as far as to say "Next time we see Mistah Luffy I'm totally taking you with me, show you off like a prized treasure I found! Ha! He'll be so impressed by my impeccable taste in partners, he'll be 'Woah Barto! Where'd you find this gem at?' He'll totally dig your vibe! You're like the coolest person in the world, outside of the Straw Hat crew, of course!"

Is extremely protective of you, even though he knows you can take care of yourself he definitely goes a little guard dog, barking and growling- I mean, cussing out anyone he thinks is looking at you wrong and definitely punches someone if he hears any insults about his beloved treasure

After the date is over and he's nervously taken you back to your room wherever it may be, letting nerves turn him into a blushing and stuttering mess, trying to find a way to ask for kiss (I mean, he was SUCH a good boy the whole date! AND he bathed! He can definitely ask for a goodnight kiss right? You had a lot of fun you even kept smiling and blushing at him he's SURE that means its okay to ask for a kiss...), but you take the breath out of his lungs when you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss and fry his brain completely

Don't worry though he recovers after a minute and he's all over you in the best of ways, he's all tongue and teeth and searing heat, kissing you with as much passion as he shows for beloved Straw Hats, and really showing you what that long tongue can do

He's completely lost in you, your hands in his hair and his teeth on your neck when you tell him what a good boy he is and there's no stopping him now and after the filthiest groan you've ever heard and a buck of his hips he'll tell you directly, you're not leaving that room anytime soon, and certainly not walking on your own two legs if he has anything to say about it

Comes all over you and will absolutely lick it all up after and then just grabs something to clean you up with off the floor and tosses it to you before grabbing something to clean himself off too before yanking the blankets up and pulling you onto his chest and passes out like a drop of a hat. He adores you but you have to explain to him in the morning if you want your aftercare to look any different (though he will enthusiastically do any changes you ask for)

Enthusiastically makes you the worst breakfast in bed ever, the man can absolutely not cook but he does take you out after to make up for his shit cooking skills (and the disaster int he kitchen don't look at it its fine)

[bsydelver]

Can u do a Fluff story of Tamaki amajiki crushing on a goth/alternative reader

Part 1 depending on how well this actually does.

———>part 2

@wolvwa helped with this because I can’t write fluff for the life of me.

Note: YESSS, I have never wrote fluff; I only have written aus/general story. THIS IS REALLY EXCITING SO HERE WE GO— THIS WILL BE A CHAPTER OF TAMAKI JUST ADMIRING THE READER.

warnings: English isn’t my first language, writer has never written fluff 🙏, Reader has piercings, Nejire wingman (not really, she just tries to help Tamaki get out of his bubble when it comes to talking to you)

Summary: just read because this is left on a cliffhanger.

SEMI-PROLOGUE

You have been friends with the big three for how long now? All you could remember from the start of your friendship that, surprisingly, Tamaki was the one who even got you into their group in the first place- you were closer to Nejire at first for the most part though due to your shared interests and her fascination with your quirk and unique appearance. People could tell you were ‘different’ in terms of appearance, music taste and lots of other things but in your opinion: you never felt out of place with the group and they always find a way to include you into anything.

Whilst you were in your train of thoughts, you got cut off by Nejire calling for you, with Tamaki as her company, a smile came across your face and you noticed Tamaki doing a half smile as well, “It’s a day off today, do you wanna hang out at my dorm? Mirio said he’d be coming later,” Nejire’s personality could never make you decline her requests but with Tamaki accompanying her: there wasn’t a universe where you’d be refusing to hang out with them. Nejire didn’t let a second pass by after you had agreed and she practically pulled you to her dorm.

Silence filled the room as Nejire scrambled through her stuff looking for anything that could entertain you guys. You couldn’t help but notice the indigo haired-boy staring at you from the corner of your age, you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it but you thought that maybe he wanted to talk so you turned your head out of the blue which made Tamaki look down visibly flustered. The sound of a person rummaging through years worth of stuff stopped as Nejire approached you, “I couldn’t really find anything,” that was a strange occurance if you were being fully honest: Nejire always had something for you guys to do, wether it was repetitive or random, there was always something; you thought maybe Nejire just needed an excuse to do something but as you examined her face in an attempt to predict what she was trying to do, you noticed her and the Indigo-colored pair of eyes exchanging stairs that contrasted in expressions but still hinted towards something which you just shrugged off.

Nejire started to slowly get closer to you which wasn’t new, she always did that when she was about to analyse someone’s whole face so you didn’t back away, “Me and Tamaki always thought your piercings were really cool,” hearing Nejire say that made you flattered and you looked to Tamaki to confirm only to see his face buried in his hands which made you slightly smirk, “Did this one hurt?” Nejire pointed at the spider bites piercing you had, “well it d-” before you could answer you were interrupted by another one of her questions, “In fact, did all of them hurt?”

“Well it depends on your pain tolerance and the loca-” you were once again interrupted but this time not by Nejire but by a curious Tamaki, “How did you know which one you would look good with?..” Tamaki wasn’t holding eye contact with you as he asked, he was actually looking down at the floor more than anything, you couldn’t tell what the question exactly implied as it could’ve been many things but you didn’t want to make the environment awkward, “I would try filters or have my friends’ insights on them!” Tamaki looked amazed and it was a cute sight if you were being honest, his eyes had a shine in them that glowed when he opened them more and this moment was one of the times he was opening his eyes more, “Wait you have friends as cool as you?!” Nejire said in a tone filled with excitement, “You think I’m cool?” you raised your eyebrows and you weren’t asking this as a normal question, it was more friendly-teasing; “Actually, it isn’t only me— Tamaki was just tell-” Nejire’s quote-on-quote exposé was fortunately, for Tamaki , cut off by the creak of the door opening, “MIRIO!”

[willbyersabyss]

Will's Blood Transfusion Dilemma

Will is going to be injured and in need of a blood transfusion.

It's revealed in TFS that Henry's blood type changed after he got lost in the UD for 12 hours. His blood was then used to replicate his powers through blood transfusions. It's pretty clear that Will's blood type is also different because he went through an identical experience to Henry.

The Flayed were also given powers through Mind Flayer blood type changes, which looks very similar to Will's s1 predicament. Later, they have black blood flowing through their veins. That's the special power blood.

Alright so Will has the Flayed blood type that Henry also has. So what?

Well there are multiple signs about blood donations at the end of s4 which are likely foreshadowing someone needing a blood transfusion in s5. At the same time, they're going to have to introduce the concept of different UD blood types AND make Will aware that he has the special blood type. But there's a way to do all three at once.

Will is going to be severely injured.

In the blood donation screenshot, the arrow is pointing outside. Earlier on, we see the tent (red and white stripes) for blood donations and then it transitions directly to... Will. Along with the ominous caption of death toll numbers rising. Hm. Blood donations... death toll... Will.

The camera also pans to Mike after we see Will. Is this possibly foreshadowing Will sacrificing himself to save Mike?

There's another blaring blood donation sign in the hospital. "Be a hero, give blood." Will is practically shining in the spotlight in this scene. Everyone else, El, Mike, Lucas, even Max, are wearing blue clothes in a very blue hospital room. Will is wearing yellow. He stands out against blue because they're complimentary colors. We are meant to focus on him. The sign is yellow too. They're linked!

Will is also awkwardly lingering in the back of El and Lucas' hug for no apparent reason. In the second image, it looks like he's looking directly at the blood donation sign. Will’s general aura is off-putting in this scene. He's just standing there... MENACINGLY. So I feel like this strange behavior is linked to something hospital related.

Now into the grit of this theory. At some point in s5, Will is going to get hurt, likely in a self-sacrificial nature, and lose a lot of blood. This will pose a dilemma for our characters because he can't undergo a regular blood transfusion because he doesn't have normal blood. They'll have to find a way to get Will more of the UD blood FAST to save his life. But how?

There are a few possibilities. The most interesting possibility, in my opinion, has to do with El. El has the special blood too. The lab gave her blood before starting NINA (see here). So El may need to donate her blood to Will.

The sign we see in the hospital has a pretty good hint at this. "Be a hero, give blood." El is constantly referred to as a hero. She could be the hero donating blood! This is hammered in as Lucas is describing how Max was brought back to life by a miracle, who we know was El. They practically zoom in towards the sign during these lines. She might need to bring someone back to life again.

This would be the quickest solution... but it may come at a cost. We know that the Mind Flayer sucked Henry's blood out of El in s3 and this made her lose her powers. It's possible that El donating her blood to Will could take her powers away. She'll have to make a choice between her powers and her brother's life.

This would cover all the bases. The different blood type, Will having said blood type, and the origin of the powers.

There is an issue with this part of the theory, though. El would need to get her powers back again. She'd have to venture back to the lab to get more of Henry's blood that I'm almost 100% certain they have stored. This would be repetitive considering she spent the entirety of s4 trying to get them back, and there's no way she's ending the show without her powers. That's just not what her arc is about.

BUT it's possible that El's blood transfusion won't take away her powers. El could still be the donator without sacrificing her own abilities. This would make El's donation foreshadowing work without being repetitive if she can give just enough to save him and her powers.

I'll still go over the other possibilities to be safe:

Instead of doing double El transfusions, they could go directly to the source. They get to the lab, find the blood, and save Will that way. But this would take too long. If Will is truly under dire circumstances, he won't have time to wait around for them to find more blood.

So... what if they go to the source source: the Mind Flayer slash Vecna. Let's say the injury occurs in the Upside Down. At that point, it may be faster to get it straight from the source instead of running around trying to find El.

We know the Mind Flayer/Vecna wants Will alive. So if Will intercepted an attack from one of them because they were going to hurt someone he cares about, it would ruin whatever plan Vecna has for Will. Vecna would be forced to give Will the blood himself to keep him alive.

Will needing an abnormal blood transfusion would also play into the AIDS metaphor that's very present in his storyline. If Will goes to the hospital before knowing about his special blood type, he may encounter the homophobic stigma surrounding HIV/AIDS because of his condition and the town's assumption of his sexuality. That would bring this narrative string from a metaphor to a literal commentary.

Oh and while I was typing this post there was an (apparent) casting call for a nurse with hematology experience. You know, the study of blood disorders. Well there you have it!

So yeah. Will seems like a big contender for the blood donation receiver that's foreshadowed at the end of s4. What kind of injury I’m not sure, but it has to be BIG and BLOODY. Good luck out there, son.

[voidconversations]

GHOSTING YOU. [1]

navi. | gy masterlist. | main masterlist.

note: just a lil something i whipped up. this will have like .. maybe three parts?? this is part one ! hope y’all enjoy

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of murder, ghosts

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 6.4k

summary: you’ve been haunting the R.P.D for months now. you didn’t think things would change until a certain blonde haired rookie showed up.

Falling. Gravity pulling your body downwards with such force that when you hit the floor; everything went black. And when you wake up, you find that you’re not entirely yourself anymore. There’s something missing. A person, a place, a memory. Your memory. All you know is that it was important. This loss, this carved out space in your mind, was important. It’s an answer.

It’s how you died.

—

You’ve been haunting the Raccoon City police station for the past three months. Three months of people walking right past you; or through you. Three months of screaming so loudly for someone — anyone — to acknowledge you going unanswered. You didn’t know why you were here. You couldn’t remember and trying to remember was painful. Excruciatingly so. It would start off as a buzz, a little harmless noise in your head, then it would transform into a sharp ringing. One so loud you swear you could feel it through your whole body. The pain that accompanied the noise was unbearable. So, you’d stop trying to remember. And eventually you’d give up trying altogether.

You’d start walking around the station with no real destination, no purpose. You’d stop looking over officers’ shoulders to try to get a glimpse at the newspaper they’d be reading, searching for your name to see if your death was in the papers. You’d stop talking to them, stop hoping that at some point one of them would finally hear your voice. And you’d stop attempting to leave the station and just accept the fact that you were never leaving.

Your attempts to leave the station at first were always futile. When you’d approach an exit there was always this naked wall blocking it. Preventing you from moving forward. Pushing your hands and throwing your body against this invisible force never once faltered the strength of it.

You remember the first day you got here. You were so scared and so unknowing of what pointless, repetitive, future you had in store. You had hope. Something that has since left you. Hope that if you could just figure out how you died, you would get to move on. Go someplace better than having to watch people live as you were stuck in an endless cycle of this lonely misery.

Loneliness, it’s all you ever feel now, you can’t remember how it feels to have an interaction with someone who can reciprocate it. Someone who knows you exist. That’s all you want, to be known. To have someone to talk to in this shit hole of a place. It wouldn’t matter to you if you were stuck here forever, as long as you had someone to acknowledge you. It wouldn’t be so bad if you had someone.

Today was the same as all the others, you listen in on people’s conversations, hear them talk about shit that doesn’t interest you but you have no other entertainment. Unless they turn on the TV in the break-room, then you glide through walls to watch whatever they put on. Sometimes, when you’re feeling mischievous, you’ll brush your fingers on the backs of people’s necks, just to watch their skin grow goosebumps and their heads whip back to find what ‘touched’ them.

It’s not much, but it’s all you got.

You walk over to your two favorite officers to eavesdrop on; Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine. They’re not regular officers, they’re a part of S.T.A.R.S. You don’t know exactly what they do, you just know they’re a different division. If you really wanted to, you could find out, but you honestly don’t care. Watching them is interesting while they’re here, but only because of Chris’s massive crush on Jill. It’s so obvious yet she doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she doesn’t want to. You don’t think that’s the case though. From what you’ve seen, how they’ve interacted, they’re both into one another. But neither one of them will make the first move.

It's almost too hard to watch. The awkward touches, the sheepish smiles, the way everyone else whispers about them. You wish you could put them out of their misery and just tell them to get it over with and kiss already. Of course, you can’t though. All you can do is sit and watch them talk, pretend that maybe they can see you too, and that you’re a part of this conversation they’re having.

Leaning on their conjoined desks, you fold your arms over your chest and listen.

“Heard there’s a new rookie comin’ in today.” Chris grins as he says it.

Jill perks her head up at that, “I bet you’re excited about that. Someone new to torture with your insane initiation ritual.”

“We haven’t had a new guy in so long, Jill! With all the work Wesker has us dealing with right now, we deserve to do something fun.”

“Yeah, well, my idea of fun is different than yours. Poor guy doesn’t know what he’s getting into joining our station.” She shakes her head, “Remember what happened last time you ‘initiated’ a new rookie?”

He grimaces, “How could I forget? I was the talk of the station for a month after Wesker chewed my ass out for it. Not to mention, I had to clean toilets as a punishment.”

“I think you’re the only person in this station who has made Wesker lose his cool.” She snickers.

You shift uncomfortably at the mention of their captain. You can’t explain why he makes you so uneasy, he just does. You’ve been everywhere in this station but the S.T.A.R.S office is one place you won’t go since he’s always there — except for now, he hasn’t come in yet today. You’ve chalked the reason up to just being that his reputation is less than friendly. Anywhere he is, is an instant repellent for you. His presence doesn’t only bother you though, no, you’ve noticed that everyone in the station will tense up around him. Even Lieutenant Branagh, which is an amazing feat on its own, considering the Lieutenant seems afraid of nothing.

Branagh is probably the one who will be training the rookie. The thought of following a new person around the station gets you excited, no one has been transferred while you’ve been here so this is new. Another person for you to scare the shit out of, the thought makes you smirk.

You zone back into the conversation, wanting to know more about this rookie.

“Heard rumors about him from other students in the academy.” Chris lowers his voice, leaning closer to Jill. You roll your eyes at the obvious way he just wanted to be closer to her. “Apparently, his parents were into some heavy crime, they were mobsters or some shit. Because of that, they were murdered. Kid saw the whole thing.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, feeling slightly guilty for planning on haunting him when he got here. A kid watching his own parents die was horrible to think about, even if they were criminals. You’ve never been close with your parents, but you couldn’t imagine losing them in that way. And now, this rookie is going to come into his first day on the job with people already knowing more than they should about him. Invading his privacy. You felt for him, you really did. If it was you, you wouldn’t want people gossiping about your traumatic past.

You push yourself off the table and go behind Chris, stroking your fingers lightly along the back of his neck until you see goosebumps. He slaps his hand over the spot you touched, whipping his head around while he shudders. Jill startles at his actions, asking him if he’s okay.

“I swear Jill, this station is haunted.” Jill laughs, loudly, at that.

“You believe in ghosts, Redfield?” Chris turns back to her and glares.

“Whatever.” He mumbles.

Their conversation before is forgotten, and you feel a sense of triumph. Your mind wanders back to the rookie and his story, or at least a little chunk of it. You decide, then and there, that you’re going to help make his time here a little easier.

—

He can’t stop fidgeting with his hands. His nerves are at an all-time high as he stares at the station in front of him. Pulling down the car mirror, he gives himself a look over. Splaying his hands over his hair, he flattens it into place, licking his fingers and then smoothing out his eyebrows after. Glancing down at his uniform, he rubs down the wrinkles, hoping to make them less noticeable as he didn’t have enough time to iron his shirt this morning. His hands catch on his name tag, reading ‘Leon S. Kennedy’.

Leon takes one deep breath, then another, before exiting his vehicle. He’s nervous, yes, but he’s also excited. Ever since the accident when he was a kid, he knew he wanted to do something good with his life. Prove every person that said he’d end up a criminal like his parents wrong. Growing up was difficult when everyone knew about your past, he didn’t want that here. He wanted – no, needed – a fresh start.

Someplace to prove himself.

He lets his excitement outweigh his anxiety as he treks up to the main door and walks right in. Immediately he’s met with a bustling precinct, officers are up and walking around, paying no mind to him. He takes this time to admire the precinct in all its glory. He had heard rumors that this building used to be an art museum, it’s evident it was. With the high ceilings that were decorated with pillars reaching up into them, along with intricate details in the crown molding. Looking further, he could see a statue holding a flag in between two staircases that led to the second floor. Everywhere he looked was a well thought out architectural design.

He shook himself out of his daze. He led himself to the main desk right in the middle of the main hall where a woman in uniform sat, flipping through a magazine while chewing some gum. He cleared his throat to get her attention, she didn’t move.

“Uh, excuse me?” Leon spoke up.

She sighed deeply before folding the corner of the page she was on, flitting her gaze up towards his face. “How may I help you?”

Leon shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m supposed to meet Lieutenant Branagh… My name is Leon Kennedy. It’s my first day here.”

She looked him up and down, blowing a bubble and popping it aggressively. “He’s in his office. Go up the ramp and take the first door on your left.”

She lifted her magazine back off the desk and continued to flip through it. “Okay…” Leon mumbled.

Her dismissive tone bothered him more than he’d care to admit. It’s his first day and he already has to deal with the attitude from his coworkers. Although, he doesn’t think he’ll be spending much time with her, considering they’re in completely different areas of work.

He followed the receptionist’s instructions and walked through to the office. His eyes were immediately drawn to the large banner, reading ‘Welcome Leon’, with some other star streamers attached to the ceiling. His bad mood from earlier seemed to disappear as he took in the decorations, a sense of warmth and comfort flooding through him. A smile stretches its way across his face as he walks down the steps. His footsteps alert another officer in the room of his presence.

“Can I help you with something?” A woman, maybe a couple years younger than Leon, asked.

“Uh, yeah, I’m looking for Marvin Branagh. I’m Leon Kennedy.” He answers, pointing a finger up at the banner.

“Oh! Welcome Leon! I’m so sorry, you’re early, we were going to have a whole thing when you came in.” She says, defeatedly. A pang of guilt washes over him. ‘How many things can go wrong on my first day?’ He thinks.

“Sorry…” He scratches the back of his neck, eyes darting away from her gaze.

“Don’t be, at least we know you’re reliable. I’m Rita Phillips.” She gives him a gentle smile that eases some of the guilt of ruining the surprise they had planned out. “Marvin went to grab some files on a case, he’ll be back soon. Until then, you can wait on that bench over there. When you’re done talkin’ with him, you can meet everyone else.” She gestures to the left.

“Thank you.” She nods at him and goes back to her desk.

He walks over to the bench, taking a seat and wringing his hands together. His nerves from earlier are mostly gone, now he just wants everyone to like him. Leon likes to think of himself as uncaring of how people think about him, unbothered. Or that’s what he wishes he was. All his life he’s been a people pleaser, wanting people to like him and want him around. He can’t help it.

He spent all his childhood being avoided like the plague because of who his parents were and that takes its toll on a child. Changes how he acts now that he’s all grown up. No one knew what to say to him when he was a kid, no one could find the right words. He was alone and that made him angry. He didn’t ask for his parents to be criminals, it’s just the parents he got stuck with. After he watched them die, everything went to shit for him; his grades, the miniscule friendships he did have, his reputation, his sanity. He got into some petty scandals, started going down the wrong path. He wasn’t a full-blown criminal yet, but he was headed there. The only reason he didn’t get to no-point-of-return was because of a police officer he met. That officer saved him, his future, his life. He led Leon to the right path, the one he was always meant to take. Leon hasn’t strayed from it since.

His attention is brought back to the present with the slam of a door. Leon did his research on the R.P.D before he got here so he knows the man that just walked in is Lieutenant Branagh. Leon shoots up from the bench as Branagh’s deep brown eyes meet his light blue ones. He walks over to Leon, stopping in front of him and switching the files he held in his right hand to his left.

“You must be the new rookie.” Branagh extends his free hand forward.

Leon grimaces slightly at the nickname before letting the emotion leave his face just as quick. Taking his hand, he shakes it, solid and firm. “Yeah, Leon Kennedy. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

The Lieutenant gives an approving nod of his head, lips slightly upturned as he takes in the sight of his new officer. “Likewise. There won’t be much excitement for you today, this being your first day on the force.” He turns around and heads towards the desk closest to the stairs, Leon following right on his heels. “This is your desk.”

Branagh slaps his hand on the side of the desk. Leon takes a look at it, noticing that the cover for the desk is rolled down and locked by two padlocks on each side of it. He looks up at his Lieutenant, brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face. Branagh smirks.

“Your very first assignment rookie! Unlock your desk and awaiting you will be a list of files I need you to gather from the library. I’ll tell you what to do after that.” He nods his head one last time at Leon before making his leave to his own desk.

Leon scoffs quietly in disbelief. Unlock his desk? How? He bends down and takes a look at each padlock; they’re both lettered, not numbered. A small ‘psst’ is heard from his left and he looks to find Rita holding out a small paper for him. He takes it and she smiles, looking back down to her work. He unfolds the small page, reading the contents inside;

“Leon S. Kennedy, we’re putting you on a very special case for your first assignment.

Your mission is… to unlock your desk! The key to your success is in the initials of our first names. Input the letters in order of our desks. There are 2 locks - 1 on each side of your desk. Make sure you get them both.

Basically, your first task is to remember your fellow officers’ names, but you figured that much out, right?

Good luck, Leon.

By the way, it might take a little work to get Scott to give you a straight answer.

Lieutenant Branagh.”

Leon chuckled, finding amusement in this little game his superior thought out. All the things he was stressing about on his way here are completely forgotten now. He was slightly nervous that his Lieutenant would be a hardass, fearing that he’d be on his case his first day here. After meeting with him, Leon’s glad his anxieties were proved wrong. He tucks the paper in his shirt pocket and looks around him at the new people he will be spending all of his time here with. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is finally the place he will achieve his attempt at normalcy.

He didn’t know how wrong he was.

—

You were starting to get fed up with none other than Chris Redfield. He has an extraordinary talent at being the dumbest person you’ve ever known, well, that you’ve watched. You’ve been listening to him while he plans his stupid initiation — which is more like humiliation — with Jill. Every time he speaks your eyes roll further back into your head.

“You’ve had bad ideas before but none this bad.” Jill chastises. “This prank is not going to end well for a lot of people.”

“It’s not a prank, it’s an initiation. And it’s not that bad, you’re being dramatic…” Chris trails off when Jill glares at him. “You’re not being dramatic, that was the wrong word. How about… paranoid? Anyway, it’s not going to go terribly.”

“Yeah right.” You mumble. That was the biggest lie you’ve ever heard. This whole ‘initiation’ has the potential to completely derail into disaster.

Still sensing Jill’s apprehension, Chris continues; “I just want to see how well the new guy can take Wesker’s rage, it’ll be the perfect opportunity to see if he has the balls to work here. That’s all.”

‘That’s all’ he says, as if that’s not the perfect number one way to get this guy killed. You haven’t seen much of Captain Wesker, still making it your mission to avoid him, but you’ve heard all about him. Anyone who disobeys him or talks back gets reprimanded to an extreme degree. He doesn’t yell much, his anger is more controlled than that. It’s cold, calculated, he gives no warnings — if you do something wrong, it’s cause for immediate punishment to him.

Chris grinds Wesker's gears like no other though. They’re both hardheaded, stubborn, which causes them to butt-heads more often than not. Chris is the only officer in this station that has faced Wesker’s wrath and still continues to debate with him on the regular. You admire Chris’s ability to stand up for what he believes, even if his superior disagrees.

You envy it, even.

Most of your life was spent never saying what you really thought. Biting your tongue when it came to defending yourself or your morals. You were always so eager to follow the rules others had made for you, not wanting to stray too far from the good girl image you had given yourself.

It’s always been that way, even as a child. You were the star child that always behaved and listened to others. The teachers would sit the misbehaved boys next to your desk in class, hoping you would ‘keep them in line’ or ‘rub off on them’. All it did was make your school days unbearable. Constantly being the target of vile, degrading jokes or being messed with because they knew you would never say anything. Would never snitch.

It was torture. That was one of the things you didn’t have to deal with as a ghost. It was lonely, yes, but free from restrictions. You could say what you want, do what you want and no one would bat an eye because they can’t see you. You’d never known how good it would feel to do as you please. How freeing it truly is. Your heart clenches at the realization of this now, after you’ve already died and lived your short life. You wanted to curse whatever higher power there was for this cruel joke.

Of course you would finally find yourself only after you’ve died.

You shake your head at the thoughts before you can get too emotional. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway.

“He’s here!” Chris whisper-shouts.

Jill looks at him with an amused smile on her face, “You don’t need to whisper, he’s a whole floor away from us.”

“...Right.”

You chuckle softly. Chris can be hard to be around sometimes but he’s got this way of making everyone love him. Even when he’s being stupid. Like now.

“Let’s go greet him.” He smirks and Jill’s soft demeanor from before drops.

“Don’t do this today Chris. Let the kid have a day to settle in before you ruin his life.”

Chris scoffs, “But we-”

“No.”

Jill looks at him pointedly, waiting for him to say anything in defiance of her order. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish before snapping it shut altogether. She grins in victory and stands from her seat. “Let’s go meet him.” She holds her hand out and Chris takes hold of it, pulling himself out of his seat and walks out of the S.T.A.R.S office with her.

You trail behind, not wanting to miss getting to meet the new rookie yourself. After winding through corridors and staircases you all finally make it to the main hall, walking over to the receptionist's desk where Alice works. You’ve been around her a few times but never stayed for long, being around her is like being around the mean kids in highschool. With her constantly chewing gum and looking at everyone that talks to her like they’ve personally offended her somehow, looking at people up and down like she’s better than them.

Even though she quite literally only does one thing in this damn station and it’s to direct people that come in to officers that can actually help them. Why they ever put her in charge of talking with people, you will never know. Chris’s pace slows the closer we get, as well as Jill’s.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Jill suggests.

“Yup.”

They both get into position and start up the game. On ‘scissors’, Chris throws rock and Jill throws paper. She mutters a quiet ‘Yes!’ and pumps her fist in the air at the same time as Chris curses and hangs his head in defeat.

He holds his hands back out, “Best two out of three?” Jill rolls her eyes and pushes him away from her. He reluctantly drags his feet to Alice, stopping right in front of her and clears his throat.

Alice looks up and an emotion you’ve never seen before flashes across her face, “Chris! Oh my god I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, where have you been?” She beams at him and realization dawns on you.

Alice totally likes Chris.

He laughs nervously, “I’ve been here, you must’ve just not seen me. Anyway, we’re looking for the new rookie, any chance you know where he is?”

“I’ll tell ya but it’ll cost you.” She purrs, leaning forward over the desk and brushes her fingers over his arm.

Jill covers her mouth, stifling a laugh. Your amused eyes look over at Chris where he sports a grimace and raises a hand to scratch a spot on the back of his neck, a nervous habit you know he has. Alice bats her eyes expectantly and Chris shifts. “Uh, you know we can just find him ourselves, thanks.”

He scurries away as Alice’s expression drops into one of shock. You snort and follow Chris and Jill’s snickering figures. “It’s not funny, Jill.”

“It’s a little funny.”

You stay behind them and watch as they walk in sync, hands nearly brushing against each other as they continue to talk and laugh with one another. It makes your chest tight. Before you died, you didn’t have much luck with romantic relationships with people. It’s not that you didn’t want it, you did. But you decided to stay focused on school, you always told yourself that when the time was right, you’d put yourself out there. You were in your third year of college when you died, still waiting to put yourself out there. It’s another regret you can’t help but have now that your life is gone.

You wanted to have a deep connection with someone; wanted to know all their little quirks, their tells, any small detail that would seem insignificant to a passerby but would mean everything to you. That’s what Jill and Chris have, even if they don’t see it. It makes you want to scream at them, tell them to just go for it because life is short and you never know when it’ll come to an abrupt end.

Your thoughts come to a stop when you accidentally run right into - well, through - Chris. His whole body shudders and he’s looking right into Jill’s eyes, exclaiming “Did you feel that?!” She brushes him off and opens the door into the library, walking over to the file archive section. You didn’t even realize they had found out where the rookie was, too lost in thought to notice.

You spot a blonde haired man sitting on the library floor with files spread all around him at the same time Jill does. She and Chris make their way over to him, their shadows encasing over his body. Leon looks up at the sudden loss of light.

“Hey, you’re the new guy right? I’m Jill Valentine and this is my partner Chris Redfield. We’re a part of the S.T.A.R.S unit.” She gives him a friendly smile.

He pushes himself up off the floor, meeting their gazes in equal now. “I’m Leon Kennedy, it’s nice to meet you both.” He extends his hand and Jill shakes it first, Chris follows.

You hover behind them, watching the interaction. You take this time to admire the rookie — Leon. He’s probably the prettiest cop here, if you’re being honest with yourself. With beautiful blonde hair, cut short but still has some bangs flowing over his face, with baby blue eyes and a defined jawline. You step closer to him, wanting to get a better look at his features, when his eyes flit to your face before hastily retreating back to Jill. Your body stills.

Did he just look at you? No way. No one can see you… or you thought they couldn’t.

He continues talking with Jill and you’re convinced you imagined it. But what if you didn’t? You decide to test your theory, if he really can’t see you then there’s no embarrassment for trying, and if he does — well you might just be the happiest woman alive. So to speak.

You squint your eyes and slink closer to him until you’re standing right in front of Jill, blocking his line of sight. He shifts from one foot to the other, nervously twiddling his fingers and craning his head slightly to the right. Your eyes widen. “You can see me!” No response.

You huff, “I know you can see me because you wouldn’t have moved your head to see Jill if you couldn’t.”

His eyes meet yours and you beam in victory. Jill’s brows furrow, “Are you alright?”

Leon snaps his eyes back to hers. “Y-Yeah, sorry. I just want to finish up here and get these files to Branagh. I want to make a good first impression, you know?” He laughs, but it sounds forced.

“Gotcha. Well, we’ll catch you around.” Jill turns to leave but Chris stays.

“See you tomorrow, rookie.” He smirks before following Jill out of the library and you roll your eyes.

You turn back to Leon, who glances around anxiously before his eyes settle back on you. You try not to shudder, not used to having someone acknowledge you for the past three months. “If I were you, I wouldn’t talk to Chris at all tomorrow.”

He squints at you, “Why?”

You almost jump in excitement at the fact that he’s responding to you. “Because he’s been planning this stupid initiation that’s most definitely going to ruin years of your time here.”

He scoffs and turns back to the files on the ground. “That’s great. I haven’t even known the guy for more than two minutes and he already hates me.”

You frown, “He doesn’t. That’s just how he is, he’s really childish and in his mind this is how you get his stamp of approval.” Leon turns back to you with files in hand.

“Thanks for the warning.” He walks away, leaving you gaping with a shocked expression. You quickly gather yourself and run up to him.

“Uh, so you can see me and you’re just going to walk away?”

His eyes don’t move from the spot in front of him, “Yup.”

“No, no, I don’t think so. I’ve been in this precinct for months — months — and no one has been able to see or hear me. I’m losing my mind, you have to talk to me.” You plead.

This is just your luck. The only person in this whole precinct who can see you is trying to ignore you.

“No, I don’t actually, because you’re a ghost and normal people don’t talk to ghosts.” Another officer looks at him wearily and Leon smiles and nods his head before turning to a more secluded area in the library. “Look, I came here to get away from not-normal shit and that includes you. So I’m sorry that you’re dead or whatever but you need to find someone else to bother.”

Twice in the past five minutes this man has managed to leave you speechless. You’re not for long though as the shock simmers into anger. “You’re an asshole, has anyone ever told you that?” You snap.

He falters for a second before regaining his composure. “Look, I’m sorry but whatever you want from me, I can’t give to you.”

“I just want someone to see me.” It’s so quiet coming out of your mouth Leon barely hears it at first.

His expression softens and he pauses for a moment. His head bows and he blows out a long sigh, “Okay.”

“Okay?” You question, dumbfounded by his lack of an answer.

“Okay. I see you. I won’t pretend I don’t.”

Your heart flutters and if you could blush, you’d definitely be doing it right now.

“But I have to work and you can’t talk to me when I’m around other people. They’ll think I’m crazy if I’m talking to nothing but air.” You nod eagerly, just happy that he decided to not pretend you don’t exist.

—

That’s how it is for the rest of the day; you follow him, talk to him (though he can’t answer, just gives brief nods of acknowledgement), and sometimes accidentally walk into him; which he doesn’t appreciate as it feels weird. Even though he has to pretend you’re not there around others, the knowledge that he does see you is the greatest comfort you’ve felt in the last three months. So you continue to babble on about anything and everything, ranging from things some officers here do when they think no one is watching, to information on what he can do to get on people's good sides here, to things about yourself. Also just gossip.

That’s what you’re telling him now, “And Alice, the receptionist, I just found out today that she has a crush on Chris Redfield. That S.T.A.R.S member you met earlier today.”

“How would you know that?” He says openly now that he’s on his lunch break, away from people.

“Because anyone that ever comes up to her gets looks of disgust and dismissive behavior, but not Chris. No, he gets full on heart eyes and her full attention.” You wave your hands around for emphasis, one of your hands disappearing through the table before coming back up.

“Does he like her back?”

You shake your head, “No, he’s only got eyes for Jill.”

“His partner?” He stops eating, this newfound information peaking his interest.

“Uh-huh. She likes him too. I’ve just been waiting for one of them to admit it but neither of them will. It’s frustrating to watch.” You sigh out. Your eyes squint as the cogs in your brain turn, then you raise your hand and point a finger at Leon.

“You!”

He places his pointer finger on his chest, “Me?”

“You can totally help me set them up! I mean, I could never do anything because they can’t see me but you can. I can be the mastermind who makes the plans and you can execute them.” You’re practically buzzing in excitement at the idea of finally seeing Chris and Jill together.

“No. No way, that’s not happening.”

“Way. C’mon Leon! This’ll not only be fun but once they’re together, you can boast about how you’re the one who made it happen. They’ll forever be in your debt.”

“Or they’ll date for a while and have a terrible breakup and hate me forever.”

You frown. “Pessimistic much?” He rolls his eyes but you continue, “They’re already in love with one another, they just don’t believe that the other does.”

He laughs. “And you know that because they told you?”

You deadpan at him, “I know that because I’m not blind. I’ve been watching them everyday for the past three months, they belong together. Don’t you believe in that stuff?”

“What, true love? Not really, no.” His brows drop and his eyes hold something that you’re well familiar with; sadness.

You stare at him for another moment before clearing your throat. “Well, I do and they’re meant for one another. So you’ll help me.”

His eyes shift from sadness to amusement. “And why would I do that?”

You smirk, “Because without me you’ll never know what Chris has planned.”

The hand that was holding his fork faltered and his eyes met yours in a glare. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Of course it is. You get information from me and I get to see an overdue relationship blossom from you. Seems fair to me.”

He seems to consider it for a moment before shaking his head side to side. “I’ll take my chances.” You deflate but don’t push him, knowing that after what will happen tomorrow, he’ll be begging for your insight on future ‘Chris Pranks’.

“Suit yourself.” You shrug, a small, mischievous smile gracing your lips. He narrows his eyes at you but leaves it be nonetheless.

—

Time seems to fly by and before you know it, Leon’s packing up to go home. He’s in front of his locker, taking out his bag and car keys, then turns around to face your solemn expression.

He sighs, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You release your bottom lip from your teeth, “I know. I just — I don’t sleep. So, I'm always by myself at night. I hate it.”

“You know, I’ve never met a ghost who can’t leave a building.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they usually linger around where they died but they’re not stuck.”

You puff out air through your nose. “Great! So I’m a mystery, even to ghost boy.”

He laughs, “Ghost boy?”

You wave your hand dismissively. “So, you mean other ghosts can like… go to Paris if they wanted to?”

He thinks for a moment before answering, “I guess they can? Like I said, they linger where they died. Most ghosts move on before they even think about traveling too far.”

“Move on? I can do that?”

“Of course you can. Ghosts that don’t move on become…” He pauses, like he doesn’t want to continue.

“C’mon, they become what?” You laugh nervously, a habit in stressful situations that you haven’t shook off, even in death.

“Aggressive. The longer you linger in this world as a ghost, the more you lose yourself. I’ve seen it happen.” He glances at you warily.

“How long do you have to be here until that starts?” You’ve been here for three months, that’s not that long, right?

“Usually the time ranges between six-to-twelve months. But look, I’m sure you’ll be able to move on by then.”

You turn away from him. It was bad enough that you have been stuck here with no idea of what happened to you, but now you have a time limit?

Leon says your name quietly, “You won’t get to that point, okay? I won’t let you.” His fingers ghost over your arm, dipping softly into you, your image spreads like mist around his fingertips.

You turn back to him, appreciative at the attempt of comfort. “You aren’t obligated to help me, Leon. This is my problem, not yours.”

He smiles. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“Really? Because earlier you basically told me to piss off.”

“But that was before I got to know how lovely you are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, rookie.”

He chuckles, “No one is immune to my charm.”

You roll your eyes. “Your game is bad, that’ll be another thing I’ll help you with.”

He feigns offense, “My game? Bad? Impossible.”

He closes his locker door shut and you walk with him to the exit of the building. He looks around for any lingering ears and turns back to you when he spots none.

“You’ll be okay?” He murmurs, still hesitant to talk to you out in the open.

You put on your best brave face. “Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

He softly smiles at you before turning on his heel and walking out of the precinct. You watch him as he gets in his car and pulls out of the parking lot, down the road until you can’t see him anymore. You stay there for a few more moments before taking a deep breath and looking around at the now Leon-less precinct.

Tomorrow.

[tuliptired]

One-shot for Egon? Egon and the reader that constantly throws him off guard with their flirting?

Shut Up, You're Stupid, Just Kiss Me

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Reader

if you saw me post this to the wrong ask you actually didn't

better formatting on Ao3 😔

Another one of these benefit-things. Egon understood the whole spiel- show up and look nice so the city doesn’t shut them down and a few nonprofits can look generous. But they got repetitive quickly. He didn’t even know why they were invited to this one. But, Ray insisted that it’d be good for them- and possible investors. Everyday sacrifices.

Ray and Winston always handled the networking part of the night, while Peter sat next to him at the bar, absolutely bored out of his mind as he toyed with an empty glass, head in his hand. Egon didn’t drink, but for some reason these bars were the only seats in the entire ballroom. It never made much of a difference, as he always spent the majority of his time observing the guests or the bottles on the wall, or wondering what he’d do when he got home. 

“Egoooooon,” Peter whined for the 10th time that night as his head hit the bartop. “I don’t know what to do.” They’d been through this. 

“Do what you always do. Get drunk. Talk to women.”

Peter’s cheek lay against the wood as he turned to face him, eyelids lower than usual. “But I miss my girlfriend.”

“Halfway there.” Egon righted his forgotten glass as it threatened to roll off the bar.

“You don’t get it, man. I’m committed now.” If that was a solemn vow or a complaint, it was hard to tell. 

A pair of women stood next to them at the bar, giving quick apologies for the close proximity. Peter notices Egon’s shoulders square, and suddenly becomes very interested in tonight.

He perked up quickly, leaning into Egon. “Y’know what would make my night? Seeing you take a chance. Don’t shake your head- you know I’m right.” Egon shut it down silently, shrugging off Peter’s hands. Peter was right, he hadn’t “taken a chance” in what felt like forever. Peter’s voice continued to try and convince him, as it was tuned out into a low vibration of sounds. 

Romance- or love, didn’t scare Egon. He was a grown man, after all, and he figured he understood it well enough. But that was his downfall. Person A is attracted to Person B, and they start dating- it was a simple equation. Peter and Dana defied the equation at times. But they put themselves back into it. Louis and Janine bent the rules of the equation. Could he do that? Could he break the rules, make new ones, to law that evolves every moment? Peter’s voice turned into a ring. This didn’t matter. People didn’t look at him.

He first experienced that realization in high school, the week of a dance. Big ears, big glasses- but Peter had a date. Peter always had a date. Did he want a date? Someone to hold when it was dark? To blush with as they got dressed up together? He was only human. But would he ever get that? All signs pointed to no. So, he stopped worrying about it all together. It was easier to ignore while his nose was in a book. 

Peter was practically draped over his shoulders. “Do you want me to die, Spenges?” 

“Can’t you bother someone else?” He didn’t mean to snap. It was just an unpleasant moment of awareness, it always was. 

Peter was unmoved. “Oh, Egon. Is it ‘cause they’re girls?” He jumped from his stool as Egon decided to remove himself from the bar. “Sit, sit, sitsitsit. I’ll go and find Ray. I think you need a nap, anyway.” Peter disappeared into the crowd before Egon could join him. 

Loneliness. Maybe he really should start drinking. Or, coat tailing after Peter found Ray to get out of here sooner.

He couldn’t stew in his increasing misery for long, as he felt a presence behind him. As he turned around to be freed from tonight, to stick to Ray or Winston’s side like a lost kid, he was met with a different sight.

Oh god.

“Mr. Spengler!” Your cheery face beamed. “It’s been a while. Is anyone sitting here?” Not anymore, you were already lowering your butt into it. 

He remembers you well. He was required to take an Humanities class, something about ethics and morals in STEM students. You were a TA, the professor explained  not necessarily going into that field, but taking the opportunity anyway. Egon considered himself to be well-rounded academically. But you were near tyrannical. In a class of liberal arts, english, and history majors, he stuck out like a sore thumb. You picked on him relentlessly, engaging in back and forth discussion that the rest of the lecture watched on. Even the professor.

Independent analysis- each student assigned a poem and asked to dissect it. “But, Mr. Spengler, surely you’re not insinuating that the speaker didn’t grow throughout her poem?” Your voice was loud, though the hall was smaller than normal and his seat was much closer to the front than he remembers it being yesterday.

You were always on the side of emotion and subtext, him on the side of logic and literalism. “In 6 stanzas, she wrote about flowers. I’m insinuating that her perspective did not grow in those 6 stanzas.”

You turned your back to him, moving to the large chalkboard. “Are you sure you’re not dancing around the fact that your assignment was an allegory for sex?” The class broke, and his face flushed into a bright, knowing red, as you flashed him a bright, knowing smile.

Relentless torture. You’d stop him before he could leave the hall, a timed essay in your hands that you’d returned to everyone but him.

“Interesting topic,” you offered, after an hour of grilling him. As he reached for the paper, you pulled your hand back.

“Your writing is improving. You do exceptionally well when it’s something you enjoy.” You let him take it.

You start for your things by your desk, before calling out into the empty room. “And you’re cute when you actually try!”

So he decided that he hated you. It was the only plausible explanation. He left your debates cherry pink , stumbling over his own words. He could have sworn that he was beyond intelligent. But when he stepped into that room with you he became a bumbling idiot. And hate was a powerful thing. He found himself contemplating what would occur that day as he made his trek across campus. He was sure he’d understood the essay he was assigned to the point of being able to recite it. That would show you. But you shut him down, and up. No matter how calculated and practiced his responses were, you tore down his guard with your comments. How could someone who made him feel so stupid say such…things? He sat alone at night, pondering his ailment. You confused him to an intense degree. Sweaty palms, increased heart rate- this was hate, white and hot. 

The morning before he graduated, preparing to return in the fall for his doctorate, he appeared in the desolate classroom, as you cleaned out filing cabinets. 

You looked up from underneath the desk, the smile he’d seen for a whole semester spreading on your lips. “Your reception outfit is nice, Mr. Spengler.”

God damn it. Why was he here again? The grip on his bag tightened as he scoured through his brain for any recollection. You had a box in your arms, simply passing him.

“Don’t change,” and the door shut behind you.

How he hated you. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you managed to order a drink while talking directly to him.

“Of course.” Sweaty palms, increased heart rate. 

You sipped your glass. “You finished your doctorate? No more school?”  

He adjusted to spontaneous conversation, albeit slowly. He didn’t face you as he responded. “No more school.” You let out a noise of surprise.

“Doctor Spengler. I like that.” His ears burned. 

“And you’re doing the ghost-thing?” Oversimplification. But he found himself not caring when the words fell from your lips. 

“Full-time.”

“I get your ads 24/7. You look great in a jumpsuit.” His long legs jerked against the underside of the bar, and he heard you stifle a laugh. His stomach soared. Vitriol.

There was a hand on his arm. That commanded his attention. If he wasn’t full of…rage then, he was now. 

You murmured. “I don’t still make you nervous, do I, Dr. Spengler?”  He couldn’t breathe. As he opened his mouth, the only sounds that came out were stammers. You just laughed, squeezing his arm as you rose from the stool.

“I’ve gotta get going. Goodnight, Dr. Spengler.” You were gone before he could blink.

Nights later in the firehouse, in the safety of his lab, he couldn’t focus. How ironic? As he trotted down the steps for fresh air, the phone rang out. Janine was out for her lunch, and the others were still on the road from a last minute job. He sighed.

“Ghostbusters.” 

“Hey, Dr. Spengler. I enjoyed seeing you again and,” He held the phone to his ear with two hands. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner tomorrow night?”

He hated you. He’d show you just how smart he was by hanging up, ending this (one-sided) college feud.

“We’re back,” Ray’s voice startled him as he leaned against the desk’s edge staring at nothing. “Did we get a call?” He looks to the phone, resting on the tabletop rather than its proper place. Egon swallows.

“Just one.”

“Okay?” They wouldn’t accept his answer. He averted his eyes.

He conceded, letting himself lean back against the desk again. “An old TA.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “The one who used to needle you all the time?” Ray had never met you, but he recalled Egon’s bad moods after having left your class. 

“Egon’s got a bully,” Peter directed at Winston as he did something in his own open office, behind Janine’s desk. “What’d they want?”

He took a short breath. “Dinner.”

Peter whistled. “Gutsy,” Winston offered as he sent Peter a look of shared surprise. Ray kept his attention on Egon.

“Good on you for saying no.” Egon was silent.

Peter reappeared. “You said no, right?”

More silence. Egon was a weak, weak man. Peter put him in a headlock, pulling him in tight as Ray’s eyes blew out, wide, and Winston laughed in disbelief. 

“Spenges is a big fat masochist!”

A woman walked in for an in-person consultation, confused at the sudden spectacle.

“Would you be quiet?”

You were (fashionably) late. 5 minutes and 23 seconds, to be exact, but he wouldn’t mention it. Not while you were going on about losing your house keys before you were about to leave. As you talked, he couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked in the warm lighting of the restaurant. Jealousy, perhaps?

So he let you talk. And talk. But he didn’t find himself searching for other stimuli like he normally did with characteristically chatty people. You seemed nervous, cringing a bit after every poorly measured story or unintentional confession. He had a bit of an upper hand. He smiled to himself, albeit small.

“What?” You grinned back, probing him. 

“Nothing,” he took a sip from the water he’d been nursing in place of wine. His expression was smug, hidden behind the lip of the glass.

“How’d you stay single, with a face like that?”

He choked on his water, setting the glass down as he coughed into his elbow. You had your head in your hand, leering at him like he was food. “I beg your pardon?”

“When you were post-grad? Guys and girls lined up outside your office to speak to you. And it wasn’t for your brain.”

You were messing with him, like you always were. But he’d bite. “They were eager to learn.”

You drew your hands up, incredulously. “Yeah, eager to learn what you looked like naked.” For the first time in his Jewish upbringing, he felt compelled to utter the name Jesus Christ.

The night went on for a bit longer. Against his better judgment, he started to find you funny. And witty. And incredibly alluring. You strung him along for 10 minutes about a classic of fiction, only to reveal that it was a personal story of your sexuality. And then you did it again, this time making a comment about his rear end. He couldn’t help but be startled every time.

You let him go on a tangent about his studies at one point, watching and listening intently. He felt the feeling rise in him again. This must have been full revulsion, because he couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. His cheeks began to grow sore from prolonged, uncontrollable smiling- what he considered to be himself reverting back to primal reactions from how hot his hatred burned. You fell into your old ways, going back and forth about a classic he’d read between then and college. He felt like he did in that lecture hall, temperature increased and body leaned towards yours.

“Assine point of view, Dr. Spengler,” you crossed your arms. The name made him feel like he’d collapse onto the floor every time you said it, however the scene was made in a fancy restaurant. 

Begrudgingly, he spoke up, voice weaker than it had been in hours. “You can call me Egon.” He absentmindedly picked up his glass.

You shook your head, twice. “Dr. Spengler is fine. It's pretty fun to say in bed.”

The glass in his hand shattered in his white knuckled fist. That’s how you both were escorted out the establishment, partially for the glass now strewn into the carpeting as well as his palm, in addition to his failure to react to the staff shaking him around. You guided him outside, the cool air doing him some good as his hand was wrapped haphazardly in white napkins.

“Sorry. About your hand.” You broke the silence, assuming an arbitrary direction as you continued in the path of your apartment. 

He was in his own world. Nay, his own universe. He stopped you as a cool wind blew through the sidewalk, rustling a nearby tree. 

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what I know anymore. I hate you. And you hate me.” 

His face was one of desperation, while yours was one of dismay. He continued.

“When I talk to you- when I see you. I feel the intense-st emotions, most of which I never thought I’d experience. I sweat. Too much. I forget what was on my mind. I look like an absolute moron. And- I never knew what that meant. So it had to be hate. That’s why you treat me the way you do- you laugh and smile and call me an idiot while calling me handsome because you hate me, too.”

He never vomited his soul out like that to anyone. Only a handful of times, really, to his closest friends. You only blinked, before a new expression drew over your features. Your face melted into a smile, to his surprise, as your arms suddenly found their way around his neck. 

“Come inside, Dr. Spengler.”

He woke up the next morning- in your bed as you slept soundly. How he hated you.