#it's the exact same song each time and it's so short but each one has such a different vibe to it

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[fantasticalleigh]

do you ever listen to the 1975 intros only and just cry 

[joelmillerisapunk]

Italy ~ let go and let daddy

soft daddy!Joel x f!reader

Masterlist ♥︎ Soft Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 4,915

Summary: As your adventure begins, it becomes clear that Joel is determined to make this the best summer of your life.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, f oral receiving, lots of soft daddy stuff - like so much, use of 'baby girl, good girl, my girl, baby, daddy', reader has breasts and wears a dress, just Joel doting on you so so hard. The endinnnggggg 👀🤭

Notes: Hi friendinos! Thank you for waiting so patienly for this! I wish I could write them here forever so I could have them see more, but Joel has a short timeline to show reader the world, shining, shimmering, splendid.

Joel's song for this entire AU: To Be With You - Mr. Big

As you start your summer adventure headed to Italy, you can feel the excitement building up inside of you. You never expected that you'd be traveling the world let alone with an older man like Joel, a man you've only been seeing on and off for a short while, but as you think back to your time with him, you know that he's going to take care of you, and you can't wait to see what kind of adventures he has planned.

Joel's plane tickets are first class, and as you board the plane, you can't believe how luxurious everything is. You're immediately struck by the opulence of the interior. The plane is decorated in rich, warm tones, with plush leather seats and polished wood accents.

You notice the attentive service. The flight attendants welcome you aboard with warm smiles and promptly offer you a glass of champagne. You feel like you're dreaming. The most you've ever been offered on a normal flight is a packaged biscuit and half a can of cola.

As you settle into your seat, which feels like an entire room, you can't help but feel pampered. The seat itself is incredibly comfortable, with ample legroom and a built-in massage function that you take advantage of immediately. The entertainment system is state-of-the-art, with a wide selection of movies, TV shows, and music to choose from.

And just when you get settled, you're presented with a menu featuring dishes prepared by a Michelin-starred chef, complete with wine pairings selected by an expert sommelier. You opt for the seared scallops with cauliflower puree to start, followed by a tender filet mignon with truffle mashed potatoes.

Obviously the food is impeccably presented, and each bite is a symphony of flavors. You feel like you could get used to this. As the flight attendants clear away the food Joel suggests watching a movie together and after a brief disagreement about which one to choose, him wanting action, you wanting something a little less intense, he finally relents and decides on watching "The Notebook," a movie that he knows you love. However, he takes forever trying to line up the movie on his device so that it plays at the exact same time as yours.

"Come on, Joel. Just press play already," you say, giggling.

"Okay, okay. But I want to make sure we're synced up perfectly," he responds, trying to fix the timing one last time. “Okay press play on yours in -” he pauses to look over at your screen and then back at his, “in 5 seconds.”

“Yes sir.” You wink at him.

Finally, he presses play, and as the movie progresses, you find yourself getting lost in the story you laugh, you cry, and you even find yourself holding Joel's hand during the more emotional scenes. Joel is surprisingly engaged in the movie, laughing at all the right moments and making thoughtful comments about the characters and their motivations.

You can't help but feel a warm glow spreading through your chest as you listen to him. You've never felt this close to anyone before - not like this, at least. You find yourself getting lost in Joel's gaze, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way you can almost hear a southern twang when he laughs too hard.

He suddenly glances over, looking at you, his eyes are filled with warmth and tenderness. You feel a flutter in your chest, and you can't help but smile.

"What?" he asks, grinning.

"Nothing. I just... I'm happy,"

"Me too, darlin'. Me too," he says. "I'm glad you're here with me.”

"Me too," you whisper, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Throughout the rest of the flight, you're constantly amazed by the level of service. The flight attendants anticipate your every need, making sure your glass is always full and your needs are met. Even the bathroom is luxurious, with plush towels and premium skincare products.

As you prepare to land, it's clear that Joel has pulled out all the stops to make this trip unforgettable.

When you arrive, Joel has arranged for a private car to take you to your destination and as you ride through the winding streets of Italy, you can't help but feel like you're in some kind of dream.

When you step out of the car, you're immediately struck by the beauty of the where youre staying. The architecture is a stunning blend of modern and traditional Italian styles, with intricate details and ornate accents that reflect the country's rich history. The grounds are immaculately maintained, with lush gardens, sprawling lawns, and a picturesque courtyard. As you enter the lobby, you're greeted by a warm, inviting atmosphere.

The hotel staff is impeccably attired, with friendly smiles and welcoming words. They escort you to the check-in desk, where you're presented with a chilled glass of prosecco and a warm, freshly baked cookie. The check-in process is seamless, and as Joel finishes with the receptionist, she provides you both with a detailed itinerary of the hotel's amenities and services.

-

After settling into your private villa, you can't help but marvel at the incredible space as you start to walk around. You've never seen a place so big. The living room is spacious and inviting, with plush sofas and armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace. The dining area features a table that can seat at least ten, with crystal china and silverware already laid out for your convenience. The bedroom is a true sanctuary, with a comfortable king-sized bed adorned with plush linens and pillows. A flat-screen TV hangs across from it on the wall. The ensuite bathroom has a deep soaking tub, a separate shower, and a dual vanity area and is stocked with luxurious bath products, including high-quality soaps and scented candles. And just as you think you've seen it all, you discover a fully equipped kitchen, a home office, and a private patio with an outdoor grill and dining area.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the private pool off the bedroom, which features a stunning infinity edge that seems to blend seamlessly into the ocean beyond.

After you spend some more time exploring the Villa, Joel interrupts you, leading you out to a separate balcony that overlooks the ocean and picturesque view. He stands behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist.

You both stand there enjoying the moment before you say something, “what a beautiful view, huh?”

But Joel's not paying attention to the view. He's studying you, how you look so surprised and happy. He never takes his eyes off you when he replies, “sure is darlin’, nothing more beautiful.” He pauses for a moment longer. “Now come with me." He grabs your hand and leads you to the massively oversized bed and helps you sit down on the edge. He has a mischievous glint in his eye, and you can tell that he's excited.

“Alright, close your eyes.”

You do as he says.

He quickly starts moving a small table in front of you and positioning boxes and bags onto it.

You hear the rustling of tissue paper and your curiosity peaks.

“Okay - open.”

Your jaw drops in amazement. In front of you are an array of beautifully wrapped boxes, each one perfectly tied with a satin ribbon. In addition, there are bags from some of the most exclusive designer stores in the world, Gucci, Prada, and Versace. Joel smiles at your reaction.

“Joel, this is too much, I -”

Joel interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "No, no, darlin'. It's not. I want you to have the best of everything. You deserve it. Just open ‘em, please." He says, almost desperate.

You look up at him a little unsure, before slowly getting off the bed like you're trying to be quiet.

“Here,” Joel intercepts with a box, he can still see your clear reservations about all of this.

You're overwhelmed by the sheer luxury of the items inside. There are designer dresses, shoes, handbags, and accessories, each one more beautiful than the last. You try on a few pieces, and they fit you perfectly, as if they were made just for you. But you can't help feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, you're overwhelmed by the generosity and thoughtfulness of Joel's gifts. You've never had anything this extravagant before, and you can't believe that someone would go to such lengths to make you feel special.

On the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that you don't deserve any of this. You've always been a simple girl, content with the basics, and never really needing much more. You've never been one to indulge in luxury, and the thought of wearing designer clothes and accessories makes you a little uneasy, like a fish out of water. But as you look up at Joel, you can see the joy and excitement in his eyes. He's clearly thrilled to be able to share this with you. You can't bring yourself to disappoint him. So you push your reservations aside and continue to try on the beautiful items, smiling and thanking him with each new gift.

"Joel, these are all so beautiful. I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll wear them for me,"his eyes are sparkling with excitement. "I want to see you in all of these beautiful things. You deserve to feel as special and loved as you are, darlin'."

You can't help but be touched by Joel's words. You've never felt this seen or appreciated by anyone before. You take a deep breath and push your reservations aside once again. "Okay, I'll wear them for you," you say, smiling up at Joel. "I can't believe you did all of this for me."

“I can’t believe how damn good you look, baby.”

Joel's face lights up with each outfit change. He wants to help you try them on, but you force him to stay while you run in and out of the bathroom, piecing each option together.

As you try on the last item, a stunning designer gown that fits you like your fairy godmother had magically placed it on you, you stop to look at yourself in such disbelief that this is even happening. When you step out, Joel takes your hand and spins you around, looking you up and down.

"Better call NASA because you're out of this world, darlin." Joel's face is filled with admiration as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, just wow, takin’ my breath away. Can't wait to show you off."

You feel your body get warm with pleasure at his words. You've never felt this beautiful before. The dress really is stunning, and it makes you feel like a million bucks.

After trying on all of the beautiful clothing and accessories, you and Joel decide to head out for a romantic dinner at a local Italian restaurant. The food is delicious, and the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You can't help but feel grateful for this amazing experience and for the man sitting across from you. As the night wears on, you can see the exhaustion setting in on Joel's face. He's been going nonstop since you arrived, making sure every detail of your trip is perfect.

"Joel, why don't we head back to the hotel? You look exhausted," you suggest.

"I am a bit tired, darlin'. But I don't want the night to end just yet. How ‘bout we head back and I'll run you a bath?"

You can't help but feel a surge of love for this man. He's always taking care of you, always making sure you're happy and comfortable. "Only if you join me," you say, smiling at him.

“Wouldn't have it any other way.”

As you make your way back to the hotel, you can feel the tiredness setting in on your own body as well. The day has been a whirlwind of excitement and new experiences, and you're looking forward to a relaxing bath.

When you arrive back at the villa, Joel guides you to the bed. You sit on the edge, feeling the comforting pull of the bed beneath you. You're about to reach for your shoes, but Joel grabs your wrist and kneels down in front of you. “Let daddy take care of you.”

Joel starts to undress you slowly, taking his time to savor every moment. As he removes your shoes, he kisses your feet gently, causing you to giggle and squirm with delight. He then moves up to your legs, gently rolling down your stockings and kissing your thighs as he goes.

“You deserve to be taken care of, baby girl. You've had a long day, wanna make sure you're comfortable."

"Thank you, Daddy," you say, smiling down at him.

Joel's face lights up at your words. He stands up and takes your hand to help you to your feet, he turns you so your back is facing him and he slowly unzips the your dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he goes. The fabric slides off your shoulders, revealing your bare skin underneath. Joel can't help but let out a low whistle as he takes in your bare shoulders and the curve of your back.

"You're so beautiful, darlin',"

He helps you step out of the dress, carefully folding it and setting it aside. He then turns his attention back to you, slowly sliding your bra straps down your arms, and unclasping it in the back. Then he works your panties off. You feel a shiver of pleasure run down your spine as he undresses you. It's like he's worshipping your body.

Once you're completely naked, Joel helps you onto the bed, covering you with a soft blanket and tucking you in. He leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. "Be right back, darlin'. I'm gonna run you a bath and get everything ready," he murmurs.

You nod, feeling a sense of warmth and safety spreading through your chest. You snuggle deeper into the blankets, your mind drifting as you wait for Joel to return.

Joel returns carrying two flutes of champagne. He sets them down on the bedside table and then helps you up from the bed. He grabs the drinks, and you make your way to the bathroom. The tub is filled with steaming hot water and scented bubbles. Candles flicker on the edges, casting a warm, inviting glow.

Joel holds your hand as you step into the tub, making sure you don't slip. Once you're settled in, he hands you a champagne flute. "For you, my love," he says, his eyes sparkling with affection.

The name catches you off guard. He's never called you something so - relationshipy. But you try not to think too much about that and take a sip of the champagne, feeling the bubbles dance on your tongue. It's the perfect complement to the warm, soothing water.

Joel joins you in the bathtub. He sits down behind you, his legs on either side of your body. He takes the washcloth and begins to gently wash your body, starting at your shoulders. His touch is tender and loving, and you can feel your body relax under his ministrations.

As he washes you, he praises you, telling you how beautiful and sexy you are. He tells you how much he loves your body and how much he loves being with you. His words are like a balm to your soul. He moves up to your hair, massaging your scalp with his fingers. It feels so good that you can't help but let out a soft moan. Joel smiles. "That's it, darlin'. Let go and let daddy take care of you.” As he moves down and washes your neck, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your skin, causing you to shiver with pleasure.

"You like that, baby girl?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Yes, daddy, feels so good," you whisper.

Joel smiles, pleased with your response. He continues to wash you, moving down to your shoulders and arms. Massaging your muscles with the washcloth, helping to ease any tension or knots. His hands move down to your chest. He washes your breasts gently, taking care to avoid your nipples. You can feel your body responding to his touch, your breasts feeling sensitive.

"Daddy.." you moan, your voice filled with longing.

"I know, baby," Joel replies, his voice low and husky. "But, I want to take care of you first. You deserve to be pampered."

He moves down to your stomach and hips. He's meticulous and thorough, making sure to cover every inch of you. As he reaches your thighs, he pauses for a moment, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"Can I wash you here, darlin'?".

“Yes please.” You're so turned on that you can feel yourself trembling with anticipation. Joel smiles, pleased with your response. He washes you gently, his fingers exploring your folds with care.

His fingers keep rubbing over your clit again and again, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. "Daddy, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." you moan, unable to finish your sentence.

"Shhh s'okay," Joel replies, his voice soothing, as he kisses the top of your head. "I've got you baby."

With those words, you let yourself go, your body shuddering with pleasure. Joel holds you close, his free arm wrapped around you as he whispers into your ear as you come down from your high, “there's my good girl, always so good for me.”

As you come down from your orgasm, you can't help but feel a little embarrassed at how loudly you moaned. But Joel's gentle touch and soothing words help to put you at ease.

"You're so beautiful when you come, princess," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

—

As the water starts to cool, Joel helps you out of the tub and wraps you in a soft, fluffy towel and leads you to the bed, helping you to lie down on your back.

All you can do is let out a contented sigh as you relax into the bed.

"Does daddy need to take care of his baby?” he asks.

You nod, unable to speak. You're stuck in some kind of love haze, and all you feel is calm and euphoric.

"S'okay baby, you don't have to think about anything, just relax, let daddy do all the work.” He hums as he starts to massage your shoulders, working out any knots or tension that you might have. His strong hands move down your arms. You can feel your muscles melting beneath his fingers. As his hands move down to your chest, he pauses for a moment, "Can daddy play with your tits, baby?"

“Mhmm..” You lightly moan

He starts to massage your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples until they're hard and sensitive. You can feel yourself getting wetter with every touch.

As his hands move down to your hips and then your thighs, he finds your sensitive nub and starts to rub slow circles over the bundle of nerves. Your breathing becomes frantic, “Daddy need you inside me, I- fuck -”

"I know, I know, my princess, but first you gonna come all over daddy's fingers, arentcha? Dont worry m’gonna take real good care of this beautiful pussy."

Joel's fingers continue to work their magic, building you up to the brink of ecstasy once again. You can feel yourself getting close, your hips bucking against his hand as you chase your release. "That's it, baby," Joel murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let daddy make you feel good."

With a final thrust of his fingers, you come apart, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Joel holds you close, murmuring words of love and praise as you ride out the waves of pleasure. “Oh, I know, I know, I gotcha baby girl, you're okay daddy's here.”

When you finally come down from your high, Joel begins to kiss his way down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He pauses at your hips, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he looks up at you.

"You're so damn perfect, darlin'," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Daddy’s gonna have a lil snack now, okay?"

You nod your consent, your breath hitching in your throat as Joel's mouth descends on your clit. He licks and sucks, his tongue exploring every inch of you as you writhe beneath him. It's overwhelming, the sensation of his mouth on you, his fingers inside you, and you can feel yourself building up to another orgasm already.

"Daddy, I'm gonna come again," you gasp, your fingers threading through Joel's hair as you hold him close.

"Come for me, baby," Joel murmurs against your skin. "Soak daddy's face.”

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue, you come undone, your orgasm shuddering through you like an earthquake. Joel stays with you, his mouth on you as you buck around, until the last aftershock fades away.

When he finally pulls away, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only serves to heighten your desperation for him even more.

"Need to be inside you, darlin'," Joel growls. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."

“Please daddy, please.”

He gently caresses your cheeks with his large hands. The sensation feels similar to being in a sensory deprivation tank, making you feel calm and warm. His hands cradle your face like it's made of the most delicate china. “Shhh, baby, I'm here, m’gonna give you whatcha need,” he says before kissing the top of your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

He pulls away and positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours as he pushes inside, inch by inch. You're so wet, so ready for him, that he slides in easily, filling you up in a way that makes you feel like you're home.

Joel starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. You can feel the tension building up inside of you again, the coil of pleasure in your belly getting tighter and tighter.

"Daddy, I - I can't, gonna come again," you gasp, your fingers digging into Joel's shoulders. The feeling is incredibly overwhelming this time as Joel's rock hard cock fills your walls, it feels like he could break through and rip you to shreds.

"Yes baby, come for me," Joel growls, his thrusts getting faster, harder. "Come for daddy.” He never takes his eyes off you, “That's a good girl.”

As your orgasm crashes over you, you feel yourself clenching around Joel's cock, your walls pulsing in time with the waves of pleasure. Joel lets out a low growl as he feels you coming, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release.

"Fuck, darlin'," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you. "I'm gonna come, baby."

You can feel him swelling inside of you, his cock twitching as he gets closer and closer to the edge. With one final thrust, he comes undone, his release filling you up in a way that makes you feel impossibly full.

Joel collapses on top of you, his heavy weight making you feel warm and safe and secure. eventually, he shifts his weight, so he's beside you and wrapping you in his arms. "My princess," he murmurs, stroking your hair lovingly. You look up at him, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. His brown eyes gaze down at you.

Your hand reaches out, your fingertips running along the side of his face, his stubble scraping against your skin. Joel leans down, his nose brushing against yours, his lips inches from yours.

"Thank you," you say softly. You want to thank him for being there for you, for loving you unconditionally, for taking care of you, and giving you everything.

"There's nothin' to thank me for,” he replies tenderly. "I couldn't be happier than I am right now, havin' you in my arms."

You rest your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering closed. You're not sure how long you lie there, but eventually, you start to feel the pull of sleep. Your eyelids grow heavy, and your breathing evens out.

—

When you wake up, you're not sure how long you've been asleep, but you feel refreshed and energized. Joel is still lying beside you, his arm still wrapped around you.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Joel murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," you reply softly, turning to face him.

Joel's eyes are still closed, but he's smiling. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby," you reply, snuggling closer to him.

Joel's arms tighten around you, and you can feel his heart beating faster. "Good," he murmurs. "I have a surprise for you."

You look up at him, your curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise," Joel says, his eyes still closed. "But I think you're going to like it."

You wait patiently, your mind racing with possibilities. Finally, Joel opens his eyes and sits up. "Come on, get dressed," he says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

You do as he says, slipping on a pair of jeans and a cute top. You're not sure what Joel has planned, but you're excited to find out.

When you're ready, Joel takes your hand and leads you out of the Villa. You follow him through the lobby and out onto the street. Joel leads you through the winding streets, pointing out different landmarks and telling you little stories about each one.

Eventually, you come to a small courtyard, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city. In the center of the courtyard, there's a wall covered in locks, each one engraved with the names of two people.

"This is the wall of love locks," Joel says, his voice soft. "Couples come here to declare their love for each other, and then they throw away the key."

You look up at him, your eyes wide. "That's so romantic," you say, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Joel smiles at you, taking your hand. "I want to add our own lock to the wall, if that's okay with you."

You nod, your eyes filling with tears. "That would be amazing, I've always dreamed of seeing this. "You say, your voice thick with emotion.

Joel leads you over to the wall, and you pick out a lock together. You engrave your names on it, along with the date, and then you secure it to the wall.

As you throw away the key, you feel a sense of finality.

Joel's face breaks out into a wide smile, pulling you into a tight embrace. As you stand there, surrounded by the love of the people who came before you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease and happiness mixing together.

Eventually, you make your way back to the hotel. Joel pauses in the lobby, “Hey, you head up, princess, just need to check on something at the front desk.” he hands you the key card and watches you disappear into the elevator.

He walks up to the front desk, “hello Mr. Miller, how can I be of service?”

“Just checking in for a delivery, small box?”

“Ah, yes, it was just delivered. One moment, sir.”

The receptionist heads into a room behind the desk, not long before coming back out with a small box in their gloved hand.

Joel takes the small black box and opens it, staring at the stunning ring nestled inside. He knows that he's found something special with you, and he's not going to let it go. He's going to make sure that you have the best summer of your life, and he's going to make sure that you never forget him.

—

Thank you so much for reading! Where should they go next?

[musicalslugs]

Grace and the Lords in Black: an analysis.

Okay, so, this may be obvious; although I haven’t seen anyone mention this as of yet. The link between Grace Chastity and the Lords in Black is clear, I mean we’ve all agreed that she seems to be like that, and Dirty Dudes must Die highlights her “corruption” plainly.

That being said! I think there may be more.

Firstly, the Lords in Black mention/talk to Grace first, before Peter and Stephanie (the arguable proper protagonists of this story).

Sure, Blinky’s motif is obvious, it’s of eyes, of watching and of observation. But to speak to Grace first, even if it seems (on the surface level) that it’s just to flex their omniscience and make her uncomfortable, is a little strange. Especially since they then speak mostly (only) to Steph for the rest of the song [The Summoning].

Secondly, because if that were all this wouldn’t be a very good analysis, we have her (Grace) and Nibbly being echoes of eachother.

“Swallow” and “devour” are synonymous. Both fit into Nibbly’s motif of consumption. Now, Grace could’ve said anything. Absorb, harness, control etc. I think the wording here is particular. Not exactly the same, but clearly within the same ball park.

What is exactly the same though, is Grace Chastity and Wiggly.

This may seem a bit out of left field at first, but hear me out.

In The Summoning, it is said that “Wiggly wants his Wrath”, Wrath is a vice, a sin. It may not be the exact opposite of Chastity, however Chastity is to do with restraint, whereas Wrath is very much, not so. Moreover, Wrath can be defined as ‘a great anger that expresses itself in a desire to punish someone’. Now… who else could be described as wrathful? Obviously Max. And Grace. I mean, her song is called Dirty Dudes must Die. As well as being a direct reflection of Max, it implies that she wants to harm someone. Punish someone though? Well, yes. Grace says “This is the consequence of what you’ve done!” - she must believe that death is a worthy punishment for their actions (being ‘pervs’). Thus, Wrath.

Lastly, and this is where the exactly comes in, Grace and Wiggly both say the same things. (Again, of course, I could write another analysis on how Grace and Max reflect each other beautifully by also saying the same/extremely similar things) The difference between Grace saying similar things to Max, is that she and Wiggly aren’t similar. It’s the same.

Example A) Stephy / Stephie.

Upon rewatching Nerdy Prudes Must Die and listening to the album on repeat, I noticed that no one bar these two call Stephanie: Stephie. I know Grace calls Ruth, Ruthy and Peter, Petey- so her calling Stephanie, Stephie, makes sense linguistically. That doesn’t take from the fact that Wiggly is the only other ‘person’ to use that particular moniker.

Example B) “bloody bits”

A particularly strange phrase that these two say. However, not really. The point of this analysis is to point out the links between the Lords in Black and Grace Chastity, specifically Wiggly and Grace. By pointing out the parallels in their idiolects, I have come to the conclusion that they are not only linked but INCREDIBLY similar.

Both are characters that use cutesy, almost childish language (“mommy spot” / “belly-well”) to disguise the violence, the wrath that lays beneath the surface. Wiggly (as shown in Black Friday) uses it as a facade. Throughout Black Friday and throughout The Summoning, he expresses himself as non-threatening (“We’re all pally-wals.” etc) before eventually showing what’s beneath the surface (“..deck the fucking halls!” / “We don’t give a shit about your phone!”). Both times are as abrupt as each other, showing that Wiggly has a fairly short temper. Grace doesn’t necessarily have a short temper, instead she has periods of ‘sin’, when stressed: Dirty Girl, calling “God a son of a B-Word”, smoking (after), having sex with Max, the scene of her ordering hot water etc etc. The visage, her carefully constructed facade, slips. Wether it’s because deep down she doesn’t believe in God (possibly shown in her “are you religious?” conversation with Shapiro), or that due to her upbringing she’s being confined, restrained, controlled, and this is when her ‘true self’ begins to peer through the cracks.

Either way, these are two characters who use similar themes (one of childishness, the other of purity/innocence (which can also be linked to childishness)) to cover their violence, their real selves.

Uhhh- anyway, watch Nerdy Prudes must Die on Youtube- it gave me brain worms.

[squinch-depraved]

schlatt x single mom!reader part 1 (aside from my post about how you met)

(this will be going up on my ao3 once it's ready, i'll probably edit it and format it differently and stuff so don't be surprised if it's a lil different but tumblr gets the first version)

(if anyone has an idea for a title for this series lmk pls eek)

even though daphne’s alarm clock went off at the same time every morning with the same exact song like, well… clockwork, it still infuriated you to no end. having to wake up to “crazy frog” every damn day since you made the mistake of showing it to her almost a year ago now was bad, but what was worse was how for the past few weeks, you would stub your toe or shin or whatever it may be on one of the dozens of packed up boxes strewn about the cramped studio apartment you shared with your daughter on your way to turning off the godforsaken hello kitty alarm clock. if it weren’t so special to the both of you, you would have chucked it out of one of the two tiny windows you had ages ago.

“up, daphydil. we gotta be at the cafe in 20, opening’s in 2 hours. now, c’mon girlie,” you gently coaxed her out of bed. she was small for a five-year-old, golden brown ringlets messily framing her face and hanging in front of her forever wild eyes. a soft smile played at your lips as you stroked her hair. “there’s my beautiful girl. alright, can you be ready in 10 minutes? i bet you can’t. i bet you can’t so much that if you are ready to go in 10 minutes, shoes and everything, i’ll let you ride on my back all the way to the store. does that sound good?” daphne grinned mischievously and nodded.

“can i have a muffin for breakfast at the store?” she asked.

must be a good day, you thought. she’s talking.

“of course, bear. i’ll make the blueberry ones like you like for both of us, how ‘bout that?”

“okay. stop taking up my 10 minutes, please.”

you laughed and rose off her bed. “that’s fair. the clock starts now, daph, gogogo!” you set a timer on your phone and chuckled to yourself again as she raced to her pile of boxes to pick out an outfit. she had the most eccentric taste for a kindergartener. well, she would be in kindergarten. you had yet to find a school that worked for her— sure, she had only tried preschools, but the amount of other kids there combined with the lack of your presence sent her into a shutdown for almost a week each time. so you decided to homeschool her. school didn’t start for another week, so you still had time to get things sorted. but it was going to be extremely challenging, running the cafe, teaching her, getting moved into the new apartment, and all the other stuff you had to attend to.

for a split second as you walked back over to your own pile of clothes, the man from yesterday flashed through your mind. you couldn’t stop yourself from going over his features while you changed into working clothes; something about him made you want to give him a chance. and so, before you knew it, you were responding to his “thanks again” text he had sent once you parted ways.

you: schlatt. if you’re free, meet us at this address for breakfast. would love to talk. if not, we’re there all day. thanks.

with that, you sent him the location of the store and chucked your phone onto the bed, hissing in regret and running a hand through your hair. the embarrassment was short lived, though, as almost immediately your phone dinged with a response.

jesus, eager much?

but being the hypocrite that you are, you dove for the phone, just as excited as he was.

schlatt: hey!! yeah, sure, i can be there in maybe an hour. see you then!

taking deep breaths, you slid your phone into your back pocket and strapped on your work boots, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“i’m ready.”

“fuck!! oh, jesus, daph, i’m sorry,” you panted. “you scared the shit out of me, girl, you walk too quiet. alright, let me grab a few last things and we’ll go.” she nodded, smiling, and stepped out of your way. after you had locked the door behind you both, she raised her arms as if asking to be picked up and made a grabbing motion. with a dramatic sigh and a roll of your eyes, you squatted down and helped daphne climb on top of your back. once she was settled, you began the trek down the street to the cafe.

you wished more than anything you could see the world through daphne’s eyes. to her, pigeons were fascinating creatures that she could spew off facts about for hours. she was so full of knowledge and so willing to share it; it was how she showed her love. to her, a piece of trash on the ground could be turned into an accessory for a hat, or a decoration, or whatever it may be. she was endlessly creative and resourceful (where she got that from, you had no idea). to her, her mother was a hero. and, god, how you envied her ability to see you that way.

“we’re here!” you announced as you turned the key in the lock and stepped into the dark building. flicking on the lights, you leaned down and let daphne hop off your shoulders. “smells like coffee.”

“i hate the smell of coffee,” daphne mumbled.

“me too, bear. now, c’mon, we gotta get going!! we’re opening soon!”

she began her routine of sweeping the dining area first, and then the kitchen, and then the bathrooms while you turned on all the machines and let a few employees in the back entrance to help start everything up. opening always goes quicker than closing, so it wasn’t long before you opened the doors and let the regulars in.

but among them was schlatt. somehow you had forgotten he was coming, and daphne lit up when she saw him walk in.

“funny man!” she yelled, dropping the tongs she was holding and sprinting around to meet his fistbump from her station at the muffin display.

“daph!! now i gotta wash those again,” you grumbled. “hey, schlatt.” you sheepishly finished wiping down the counter and scanned the store for any customers. luckily, it was saturday, so there were only a few people already seated and enjoying their food; you had some time to talk before the next rush came in.

“child labor, y/n?? really?” he joked, eyeing the menu above you.

“it’s not child labor if you went through labor to have the child,” daphne spoke, repeating a phrase you had said in passing once to a friend.

“oh my god!! daphy, please, can you go make sure the mug shelf is all straight?”

she nodded, glancing at schlatt one last time before she left. he was trying to hold in his laughter, but let out a sputtering chuckle once she walked away.

you closed your eyes and took a breath before speaking. “i’m so sorry. i swear i said that once. like, genuinely one time and she says that whenever someone comments on her working. she’s too smart for her own good, i don’t know what to do with her.”

“you know, you do an awful lot of apologizing when there’s nothing really to be sorry for. she’s hilarious, from what i’ve seen. why do you always try to defend her?”

your face went hot and you stammered a few times. “buy me a drink first, damn, dude…” with a huff, you went back to scrubbing the spotless counter.

“i- fuck. i’m sorry. that’s too much. let me start over, please?” he leaned in a bit, resting his elbow on the surface between you. when you gave him a short nod, he sighed a bit with relief and nodded his head towards a blueberry muffin. “can i get one of those?”

you couldn’t help but grin at his choice of pastry as you packaged it. “anything to drink?”

“what’s your coffee order?”

“three cans of diet coke. i don’t drink that shit,” you tried to jest but it sounded bitter.

he blinked a few times and nodded. “good, me neither. i was willing to, though, let that be known.”

with a laugh, you replied, “noted. here, take a seat and i’ll bring you a lemonade? daph’s idea, she thought it would be refreshing to keep in stock for the heathens like us who don’t drink bean juice.”

“sounds good. i’ll be over here,” he called as he walked towards a table hidden away in the corner. you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you poured two lemonades, thanking the stars above you remembered to actually make some this morning. usually nobody ordered any until the afternoon.

setting the two glasses on the table as you slid into the seat across from him, you shot one final glance at your assistant manager, who was running the counter while you took a few minutes to talk with schlatt. luckily, she was too busy with a customer asking for a refill to make a face at you and your new potential suitor.

“holy shit, that’s fancy lemonade. is that mint on top?”

“yeah, daph says it ‘enhances the flavor profile,’ or some shit. she likes food network a lot.”

he eyed the green sprig and took a cautious sip, eyebrows raising once he made a decision on the flavor. “she’s really smart, man. i never woulda thought of this. how old is she?”

“five. she has autism; she’s always been crazy genius. i don’t know how to keep up with her, she’s already smarter than me,” you chuckled quietly. “she’s so creative, too. i can’t find a school good enough to teach her things, she has a hard time being away from me and it’s just a whole thing. speak of the devil, actually.” daphne was skipping across the dining area and sat down in the seat next to you. “hey, bear!”

“i’m not a devil, mama.”

“it’s an expression, baby. remember? like, ‘easy as pie?’”

“oh yeah. because we tried to make pie and it went really bad.”

you sighed, smiling, and rested your head in your hands. “yes, bear. ‘speak of the devil’ just means, ‘here comes the person we were just talking about!’”

daphne pulled out a notebook from her apron pouch and took a pen from your shirt pocket to write down her new phrase.

“what’s that?” schlatt asked her. “you’re five and you know how to write??” you opened your mouth to tell him, but daphne beat you to it.

“i like to write things down so i can talk better.”

“i think you talk just fine, personally.”

both of you flicked your eyes up to squint at him, curling your mouths in the same look of confusion and intrigue.

“oh my god, you two look identical making that face, that’s hilarious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin. at the same time, daphne and you side-eyed each other and started laughing.

“mama says i talk just fine too, but nobody else ever did. now two people think i talk good. maybe you could be my dad,” she wondered aloud. you choked on your lemonade and slammed it back onto the table, spilling some onto the old, damaged wood.

“okay, daph. can you go get me some paper towels from the back to clean this up and then go see if anyone needs help putting sprinkles on the donuts?”

“i already looked, the donuts are done. but the syrups need refilling.”

“okay, go do that, bear.”

“mhm.”

she skipped away, oblivious to what she had just started, and returned a moment later with a roll of towels to clean up. it was silent until she left for the second time.

“you’re gonna trust a five-year-old to refill syrup bottles?”

“she’s actually steadier than i am. she came up with, like, a whole system, it’s really cool. and she’s not by herself, we have a highschooler that’s working with us for the summer, she helps her.”

thank god that’s the first thing he brought up.

“mm. listen, i understand how kids are, we don’t have to talk about what she just…”

“yeah. thanks. she’s, um… she just kinda says what’s on her mind; i can’t stop her.”

“i get it. so, uh,” he rotated his now half-empty glass a few times as he went over what to say in his mind. “why does your nametag say ‘owner?’”

with a glance down at your badge, you slunk down in your chair. “this is my parents’ store. they always wanted me to take over, and i kind of didn’t have a choice after mom fell down the stairs over there. they used to live above the cafe, now they’re in a home and i have to run this dump. at least i get to move out of my studio and into this place, though. if i can ever find the time to actually get my stuff from one place to another.” you sounded more and more dejected as you went on, unable to meet his gaze.

“i can help you move,” schlatt offered smoothly. you smiled, but shook your head.

“nah, man, we have a lot of stuff. it’d be too much to ask of you.”

“shut the fuck up, it’s fine. look, how about we make a trade? i’ll help you move if you let me take you out on a date.”

you blinked a few times in confusion as your face heated up. “m-maybe, dude. i dunno. look, we’re in a rush now, i’ve gotta get behind the counter and try to help my employees get this under control. i’ll come back in a bit.” you gestured to the line that was almost out the door and rose from your seat.

“lemme help!”

his words stopped you in your tracks. “what??”

“let me help,” he repeated, “it’s clear you need it, you’ve got three guys besides you and one of them is a toddler.”

he had a point. flustered, you waved for him to follow you. “just put on an apron and wash your hands.”

the rush of patrons took about an hour to deal with; they just kept coming. schlatt handled everything with grace, upselling people on pastries when they only ordered a coffee and making casual conversation with the usual customers that came in to ask about you and your family.

he was so much better at dealing with chaos than you thought he would be. for some reason, you were expecting him to dip out as soon as he could. it was hard to picture him wanting to hang around after learning about you and how complicated you were. but for some unknown reason, he stayed. you watched him with a soft smile on your face as he undid his apron and hung it back up before stepping around to the other side of the counter.

“wasn’t so bad,” he teased, flicking his head towards the lemonade dispensers. “gimme another one of those.” you pushed the hand that was extending a credit card towards you away and turned around to grab a to-go cup.

“you kickin’ me out?” he asked, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“i can’t work right with you here. need to think. so, i guess, just… show up here at 8 tonight wearing something nice and ready to take me somewhere. you’re gonna help me move my stuff this weekend.” unable to look him in the eyes as your face burned, you handed him the drink and quickly crossed your arms when he took it.

“i am, huh?” he was grinning as he took the straw between his teeth.

“yes.” you swept some crumbs away with your foot and glanced at him for a split second.

“alright, y/n. you like steak?”

“i guess. haven’t had it in years, it’s too expensive…” you mumbled.

“perfect. i’ll see you at 8, toots. bye, daphne!” he waved to the girl who was sitting at the table with an elderly woman sketching something in her notebook.

“bye, funny man!” she called back, not looking up from her drawing. the woman across from her looked shocked at her words.

“bye, schlatt!” you waited until he was down the street before jumping up and down a few times and pumping your fists in the air.

“got a date?” the woman watching daphne asked across the nearly empty store.

“uhm. yeah, actually, i do, mrs. reid,” you stuttered.

“need me to watch daphne for you?”

“yeah, that would be super helpful, actually.” you brought her a new cup of tea and traded it for her old one. “on the house.”

“she’s been talking a lot more.”

running one hand through your hair, you sighed and sat down next to daphne. “yeah, we’ve been working on it a lot. something about schlatt makes her open up. anything to say, bear?”

she just stuck her tongue out in concentration and continued drawing pigeons.

“that’s okay, daphy. you don’t ever have to talk if you don’t want to.” with a gentle pet of her head, you stood up and walked back behind the counter to help a customer that had just come in. you were unable to stop yourself from running over the events of the morning in your head, focusing on how schlatt would smile at you and how he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

you just have to be careful, you kept telling yourself. don’t get your hopes up.

it was too late. you couldn’t help it; your hopes were high. he made you feel… normal again. it had been almost six years since you felt that way. now you were just praying it would last, even if for only a night.

[newbtheveryawesomeandkindanewby]

Welcome to Helluva Boss, a TV show review in song parody form

Welcome to Helluva Boss

Have a look around

Everything you’ve heard about this show can be found

We’ve got episodes monthly

And merch drops for days

So if you don’t like it, well then you must hate gays

Welcome to Helluva Boss

A bold new take on Hell

Not much torture goes on down here, in fact everything seems swell

Don’t say that we’re sexist

Millie’s not ignored, haha

She has plenty of focus in this five-minute short!

Welcome to Helluva Boss

By and for Tumblr

At one point our ‘hero’ says a gross ableist slur

Be horny

Be sleepy

Be just plain confused

We could explain the lore in-show, but we refuse!

Welcome to Helluva Boss

Come on, bring a friend

Here’s a fun antagonist

We highly doubt you’ll see again

We got demons, up on Earth, who get paid to kill folks

Except we changed our minds and now

It’s about a red dude and a dumb bird fucking each other

Welcome to Helluva Boss

Views are down the drain

We’ve lost two-thirds of our audience to some weirdo named Caine

We’re out of animators

The critics are mean

We still haven’t sold all our stock from last Halloween

See a washed-up pop star’s

Freshly washed car, be in pain

Steal our employees’ work and

Blacklist them if they complain

Furbait gone mad, deadbeat bird dad,

Love stories you’d find on Wattpad

He’s a rapist because he’s sad

His wife’s bad, sex makes him glad

Here's the show's only non-psycho

Committing awful crimes

Here's the exact same character arcs

That we’ve done a thousand times

Here’s the puny pay rate

For our animators

Here’s the show’s creator buying taxidermied birds

Could I interest you in naughty words?

All of the time?

An awful lot of naughty words

All of the time

Not laughing is a tragedy

Criticism’s a crime

Tons and tons of naughty words

All of the time

Could I interest you in naughty words?

All of the time?

An awful lot of naughty words

All of the time

Not laughing is a tragedy

Criticism’s a crime

Tons and tons of naughty words

All of the time

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Between the bars (Coriolanus Snow x reader)

AUTHORS NOTE 📝 : yall im so proud of this one i think its my best one yet would you want a part two bc i would be interested please comment and o worked Really really hard on this one especially a little longer than normal got a little carried away.

WARNINGS: pining, my post concussion writing, suggestive but no lemon, hardcore making out, fluff and slight angst w/ coryo family, tried my best for snow to be in character, were basically Lucy gray

My hands wrapped around the cold metal bars of the monkey house where I was enclosed in. I couldn’t sleep no, not a wink so I decided to watch over my district parter. It was cold at night, they didn’t give us any blankets. It’s barbaric the way they treat us, just because we’re district doesn’t mean we’re not human. And just since most of us are going to our death you’d think that we’d be entitled to a least a little dignity.

you’d think….

Suddenly I hear footsteps and peer out the bars of the monkey cage into the empty zoo. Well…..not empty anymore. There approaching me is the one person who has treated me fairly since coming here. He handles me like I was a true lady of the capital.

Coriolanus snow walked up to the bars where I was.

“hello y/n….I’ve brought you something” he hands me an intricate compact “it was my mothers I thought it would remind you of me in the arena and…….” He pauses and looks around though no one is there “there’s poison in it. I know, but only in self defense in that arena your going to things you’re not proud of”

I nod “I understand” I say knowing I’ll have to use it at some point “it’s beautiful…thank you” I run my fingers over the delicate and fancy design.

he smiles. That smile that stupid smirk. When I first met Coriolanus I had to admit I was struck by how attractive he was. Paired with holding out a rose for me to take from his hand and saying that he would take care of me….well it’s enough to have any girl blushing like a fool. I tried my best to keep it together but I knew some of the blush was showing on my face when he held out the rose. Whenever I look at him I get butterflies in my stomach. Little did I know at the time he felt almost the exact same way about me and my appearance when he first saw me. But it was my spirit at the reaping and going foreward that truly made him fall for her. In fact the was one of the things that prompted him to arrive with the rose at the train station. When I was reaped I didn’t cry or scream or anything but….well I sung. I’ve always been a performer at heart and though my song was very short it showed that they couldn’t break my spirit.

now he leans down and brings his face close to mine. Closer than ever before.

“Coryo, I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again…but I wanted to thank you, you’ve treated me well like an equal and that’s rare. If I die in that arena it won’t be your fault-“

“I’m going you out of there y/n. You’re not just a tribute to me. You’re going to survive”he shocks even himself by saying it. He had never spoken about his feelings to y/n. Not even to Tigris. But with the games tomorrow there was no chance other than now. He was enchanted by her beauty and her charm when they first met, her realness. And though it was hard to admit her survival in that arena now meant much more to him than just getting the plinthe prize. He cared about her. Love was a feeling that was all too foreign to the young Coriolanus snow. He had only ever possibly experimented with a girl or two and that was nothing special just a fling. He was an orphan he never knew love from his parents all he had was Tigris, the grandma’m and now y/n.

I let my fingers slip in between the the bars that separated us and caress the side of his soft cheek. Letting myself give in to the temptation that has plagued me ever since we met. His eyes lock onto mine and me gaze at each other for a while lost in our own thoughts. as I stroke his cheek he leans into my touch so heavily as though he has never felt real love in his life. My other hand goes to cup his other cheek from the side so I’m holding his head in my hands now. He looks up at me and I slide one of my hands down to his neck. He was so clearly touch starved, I could see the desperation and hunger in his eyes.

and we’re both wondering the same thing. is this it? Is this the last time l’ll ever see them?

“Y/n l/n” he breathed like it was a desperate plea.

“coryo…”

and then he leans in close and we are in between the bars. He kisses me at first gently, soft and pure like driven snow. I can smell the roses on him a sweet scent that fills my lungs and takes me away. And we both forget about everything. The arena, the tributes, the fact I might be facing my death tomorrow. Because all I can feel is his lips upon mine. His lips are warm and soft, unlike the cold crisp air around us. We’re almost gasping for air. The kiss turns hot and heavy. More rough as it goes on. Like he was holding back before, now he had given up the fight with control. I gasp as I feel his hand snake around to the back off my head and pulling impossibly closer to him in the kiss. When I gasp he takes advantage of that and and deepens the kiss even further if possible. It was never a fight for dominance he took control. A small groan of pleasure escapes Coriolanus’s lips. I hum in response showing that I’m enjoying it as much as he is. Eventually we break and put our foreheads together.

And there stands Coriolanus snow one of the finest men in the capital, panting uniform messed up, and face as red as a beet. All because of the tribute y/n l/n from district 12. She had more than just affect on him. That was an understatement

not that she was any better…

Our foreheads touching both of us panting for our lives, tomato faced. I gaze once again into those beautiful blue irises that remind me of crystals

“Coryo…I won’t let you down in that arena I’ll survive for us…you’ve given me something to fight for” I breathe out

”and you’ve given me someone to root for. I’ll be waiting for you y/n” he almost whispers the last sentence

[rollingsins]

three's a crowd, part three

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten (epilogue)

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au. 

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: the love triangle continues to triangle. let me know your thoughts and what you want to see next!!

It’s awkward. The set is awkward. 

Everyone can sense something is going on. Emma isn’t speaking to you. Jenna’s avoiding you. They’re both avoiding each other. You’d try and fix it if you could. But you have no idea what to do, who to turn to. The closest relationships you’d made in the short time you were on set were the very two people who’d got you in this entire mess. 

Briefly, you consider calling your Mom. But you know there’s nothing she can tell you that you don’t already know. 

You can’t have both of them, she sing-songs in your head, you have to choose. 

It’s later that morning when Jenna ducks around the catering table to stop crossing paths with you, you see red. 

You wait until she’s in her chair, script in hand before marching over to her and giving her a piece of your mind. 

“Stop avoiding me.” You tell her, “It’s childish. You’re the one who told me you liked me. You don’t get to tell me that and then ignore me for days after. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jenna blinks back at you. 

She swallows. 

“Alright.” She says, evenly, “That’s fair.” 

You sit down next to her, not really sure of what to say. She seems to be in a similar predicament. 

“Let’s not make things awkward.” She says, “Emma’s my friend, and so are you. I never should have said anything. We can just pretend like it never happened.” 

“Is that what you want?” You ask, “To pretend like it never happened?” 

“Yes.” She says, averting her gaze. 

You cross your arms. 

“Fine. It never happened.” 

“So we’re friends?” She says, looking at you carefully, “Only friends.”

“Only friends.” You say. Ignore the way your heart twists at the thought. 

And then you leave her sitting by herself to go shoot. Try to ignore her eyes on you, watching you go. 

Your scenes today are with Hunter, not Emma, thank god. If he can sense you want to crawl into a ball and let the earth swallow you whole, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he sits down in the chair next to you and offers you a Twizzler. He’s not hungover today, and seemingly very happy about it. Then he, not so subtly, tries to pry an answer out of you. 

“You and Jenna looked pretty cozy last night,” He says as he bites down into his candy, trying to sound non-committal, “Did something happen between you two?” 

Only friends plays through your mind. 

“No,” You lie.  

Hunter furrows his brow. 

“Huh,” He says, bites down on another twizzler, “Well, that’s good, because I think Emma really likes you.” 

The agony doesn’t let up for the rest of the day.

You have no idea what to do. There’s a part of you that wants to find Emma, kiss her, tell her you’ll never look twice at Jenna again. And then there’s a part of you that wants to find Jenna. Do the opposite. You feel awful. 

You don’t deserve either of them. 

When shooting wraps for the day, you have half a mind to go back to your apartment and wallow in your own self-loathing. Hunter has other ideas. 

“Let’s do dinner,” He says, arm around your shoulder, “Joy and I will cook. And no offense but you look like you could use a home-cooked meal.” 

He’s referring to the dark circles under your eyes from your sleepless night. 

“I don’t know.” You chew at your lip, uncertainly. 

“Come on,” He presses, “It’ll be fun. I promise.” 

What he didn't tell you, and you should have guessed it, is Emma is invited too. 

You’re halfway to Hunter’s door, bottle of wine in your hands when you see her.  

She sees you at the exact same moment. Freezes. Reluctance all over her face. You wonder briefly if she’ll bolt. 

“Hey,” You say, voice quiet. 

“Hey.” 

You swallow, not really sure what to say. 

“I’ll go if- if me being here makes you uncomfortable.”

She hesitates a moment. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to go.” 

So you don’t. 

Hunter plays the fool, dishes out the wine and leaves the two of you to talk while he no doubt goes to bother Joy in the kitchen. 

It’s silent for a while, the two of you just sitting there, sipping your wine, Frank Ocean blaring through the speakers.

You want to say something, anything, but every thought that pops into your mind will no doubt sink you deeper into your grave. The grave you dug for yourself. 

Finally, after a few painful minutes, Emma breaks the silence. 

“Are you going to like, date her?” She asks. She sounds weird, voice too high. Like she doesn’t really want to know the answer, “Jenna, that is.” 

You pause.

“I don’t think so.” 

The conversation you’d had earlier in the day flashes through your mind. It hurts you a little to say out loud. 

“But you like her?” She says, frowning slightly, as if she doesn’t see the issue, “And she likes you?” 

“I like you too.” You say, “That’s the problem.” 

She deflates a little, sags back into the couch. It isn’t the answer she’d wanted, you know that. She wants what you can’t give her. Certainty. 

“I didn’t expect this to be so complicated.” She admits, voice a little quiet. 

“Neither did I,” You say, “I’m sorry.”

You watch her a while, let the silence stew. She’s beautiful as ever, shoulder-length hair tied back behind her ears. Her pretty blue eyes missing some of their sparkle. 

“I really like you.” She says, after a while, fiddling with the rim of her wine glass. She doesn’t look at you as she says it. Like she's afraid of what you'll say back.

“I like you too.” 

At that she looks up. She bites her lip, scoots a little closer. 

“I like you, but I don’t want to be your second choice.” She says, now sounding a little more sure of herself. 

“You’re not-”

“Maybe we should just be friends,” She blurts out. You gaze at her, stare piercing. 

“Is that what you want?” You ask. This is a new record for you. Not one but two situationships ending in a matter of hours. You’re one more word from snatching the wine glass from her hands and downing it whole. 

“No.” She admits, voice soft. 

You bite your lip. Let the butterflies in the pit of your stomach fester. 

“Why don’t we- keep things casual.” You say, a little hesitant,  “See how we go, no commitments. It would take the pressure off, a little.” 

She shoots you a shrewd gaze, “Like friends with benefits?” 

“No,” You say hastily, “Like casual dating. We see each other and if you want you can see other people too-”

“-Meaning you can see Jenna whenever you want.” Emma interjects. 

“No. Nothing is going to happen between Jenna and I,” You say, “She made that very clear today. She- we both don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Too late.” She mumbles. 

It makes your heart hurt. It’s one thing to know it, another to hear it. 

“Emma-“ 

“It’s fine,” She says after a moment, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” 

You stare into your glass, not really sure what else to say. You’d take it back, if you could. You wish Jenna had never said anything. Kept it to herself. You were happy before, weren’t you? When it was just you and Emma and nothing else. 

No, you weren’t. It’s that little voice in the back of your head. You will it to shut up. 

“Let’s try it.” Emma says suddenly. Voice small, quiet, “Dating. Casual dating or whatever.” 

You look up, disbelief on your face. 

“Really?” 

She bites her lip. 

“Yeah. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Are you sure?” You stare back at her. You hadn’t expected her to say yes, the moment you’d suggested it. You weren’t even really sure what you were suggesting. What was causal dating anyway? You’d see other people. She’d see other people. The thought makes you want to sink your hand into your throat and rip your own heart out. You’re such a hypocrite.

But she’s looking back at you with shiny, determined eyes, nudges her hand ever so slightly against yours and it’s too late to back out now. 

“I’m sure.” 

-

As is now tradition, Georgie hosts the group's Friday night game session at his apartment. 

Emma’s at your side, her hands brushing yours every now and then like she wants to hold it. After the third time, you make the decision for her, link your hands together and entwine your fingers. You don’t miss the small smile that blooms on her face. 

“Are you guys a couple?” Joy asks, a few drinks in, eyes drawn to your connected hands. It’s just you, her and Emma, the others yet to arrive. Emma blushes. You purse your lips. 

“No.” You say together. Joys eyebrow quirks. 

“Oh. It’s just-“ 

“We’re seeing how things go.” Emma says, hurriedly, as if anything else will cause you to drop her hand. You rub your thumb over the back of her hand, soothingly. 

“Okay,” Joy says, as Georgie plops down into the seat next to her, “Good for you two.” 

“Good for who two?” Georgie asks, dealing out the first hand. You feel Emma shift beside you. 

“Those two. They’re seeing how things go.”  Joy says, a look on her face like she knows exactly how it’s going to go. 

Georgie looks between you, a little confused, “And what does that mean? What about Jenn-“

Joy nudges him between the ribs, hard. 

You clear your throat, “I’m going to get another drink.” You stand, drop Emma’s hand. You replace it with a soft touch to her shoulder, “Do you want another one?”  

The rest of the cast rolls in one by one. You’re fiddling with a bottle of Grey Goose when Hunter and Johnna arrive, Jenna not far behind them. 

You greet the former two with a hug, nod awkwardly at Jenna as she walks in, a little under the radar and sits next to Georgie. 

You’re friends. You agonize in the kitchen, trying to talk yourself into going back out there. You don’t want it to be so awkward. She doesn’t want it to be awkward. So stop being awkward. 

You sit down next to Emma, careful not to touch her, avoid Jenna’s eyes. Try to focus on the game. 

At first it's easy. You don't look at Jenna and she doesn't look at you. You touch Emma's hand under the table, not wanting to throw your coupling in Jenna's face. It works. It's fine.

And then Jenna has her first drink.

Whiskey and coke, a little too heavy on the whiskey.

When her glass is empty, she's gone from not looking at you at all to staring.

She watches as you draw your cards, lift your drink to your lips. She watches as you smile at Emma. She watches as Emma touches your knee. She watches like she doesn’t care if you notice. 

She watches and drinks. Drinks and watches. Three, four, five Whiskies, she's long abandoned the coke.

After a couple of hours of feeling like you’re under a microscope, it’s your turn to watch. She stands, off to pour herself another drink. You excuse yourself quietly, tell Emma you’ll be right back. 

Jenna's had so much to drink she barely notices as you sidle in next to her, so close your shoulders almost touch. 

“Stop it.” You say, under your breath. A laugh rings out from the table, the chatter loud enough you’re satisfied they can’t hear you. 

Jenna’s quiet a moment. She doesn’t look at you. 

“Stop what?” 

“Looking at me like that.” You say. You top your glass up with coke. Hesitate, then pour a little more Vodka, god knows you need it. 

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” 

“Yes you are,” You say, “We talked about this. We’re friends, remember?” 

“Friends can look at each other.” 

“Not like that.” 

“You’re still dating her then.” 

You feel like you have whiplash. Only yesterday you’d agreed to never speak about what happened at the club. She’d insisted you were friends, nothing more. 

“That’s not really any of your business.” You say. It comes out a little harsher than you intended. You pause, rephrase, “I just mean you and I agreed to only be friends.” 

“We did.” She says, voice clipped. 

“So stop looking at me like that.” 

She doesn’t, not for the rest of the night. Mournful, wide, brown eyes. Full of sorrow, longing, want. It gets worse the more she drinks. For an actor, she’s not great at hiding her emotions. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before. Since the day you met, she’s looked at you like this.

You grip Emma’s hand under the table and pray she doesn’t see it too. 

By the time the night is over, you’re exhausted. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon. Like you’re leading some double life, with a wife, two kids and an extramarital affair on the side. 

You’re thankful when people start to filter out. 

You wave goodbye to Georgie, walk Emma back to her apartment, only two doors down. You’re holding hands again, trying to brush off the night. Feeling a little like a middle-schooler by the way the touch of her hand in your own makes your heart flutter. 

“Tonight was fun.” Emma says as you stop outside her door. Illuminated under the light of the complex, her eyes sparkle a pretty blue. She’s looking at you, coy, chewing at her own lip, a little shy. 

“It was,” You say, though it’s only half-true. 

The drinking was fun. The games were fun. Holding Emma’s hand is fun. 

The tide-wave of confliction in you at Jenna’s wanton looks is not so much. 

She doesn’t seem to notice your slight reservation. She’s tilting her head up to kiss your cheek. Her lips are soft, a little unsure. She blushes as she retracts. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asks, a little hopeful. 

You smile, “See you tomorrow.” 

The smile is gone the moment she shuts the door. You slip your hands into your pockets, the quiet hum of the night reverberating in your brain. You can’t do this every Friday night. Heck, you can’t do this any night. Hold Emma’s hand, walk her home, kiss her goodnight all the while your brain is afire with thoughts of another woman. Her best friend.  

You’ll withdraw from her, you reason with a heavy heart. You’ll avoid Jenna, give you both time to get over each other. And then, when this infatuation, this crush was over, you’d be too enraptured with Emma to think twice. 

It’s a decent plan, maybe the best you’ve come up with so far. You let your brain trick itself into thinking it will ever work. 

And then, you round the corner just as Jenna steps out of Georgie’s apartment. 

Great. 

She stumbles slightly, more than a little drunk, all but slams the door in her wake. 

You freeze, hoping she won’t see you. You don’t want to be alone with her, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with her. And she’s had a lot of Whiskey. Maybe she’ll breeze right past. Maybe her mind is playing similar tricks on her. 

No such luck. She spots you almost immediately. Tugs her purse higher around her shoulder. 

“I’m not following you,” She says as if that's what you're about to accuse her of, “I’m going this way too.” 

“I didn’t think you were.” You say. You contemplate turning back around, knocking on Emma’s door and asking for a nightcap. This seems like trouble. Something in you resists. You watch as she turns to the staircase and grasps at the railing. She wobbles slightly, unsteady. 

 “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” She says. You knew she was going too hard on the whiskey. You should have stopped her. You inch forward, press your hands to her back so she doesn’t slip. She jerks you off. 

“I don’t need help.” 

It stings a little. You retract your hands, swallowing. You don’t know what you’ve done to make her so mad at you. Except… everything. 

“Clearly.” 

She barely manages the stairs alone. You follow, not too far behind, not wanting her own stubbornness to result in her falling face first and breaking her neck. 

When she’s conquered the last of the stairs, she blinks up at the sky. Hovers, head tilted, swaying slightly on the spot. You peer up too, wonder what she’s looking at. The stars are out of focus, blurry. You blink, suddenly aware you may be just as inebriated as her. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” You ask, before you can stop yourself. 

It’s not romantic, you tell yourself. Friends walk each other home all the time. You just wanted to make sure she got home safe, is all. A staircase is one thing, but Jenna lives a few blocks down from here. Anything could happen to her in this state. 

You stand in front of her, watch as she redirects her focus from the sky. Your stomach does somersaults as her dark eyes lock onto yours. 

“Where’s Emma?” 

“I walked her home,” You say. 

“Oh.” Jenna says, frowning a little, “You didn’t want to stay the night?” 

Your cheeks flame. 

“No,” You say. You don’t elaborate, not wanting to go there. 

She tilts her head, swaying again on the spot. She inches forward, perhaps more than she means to. Your shoulders brush. 

“So you haven’t slept with her yet?” She asks, voice low. 

You’d only kissed Emma, once, but Jenna doesn’t know that. Her eyes are flitting between your own, wide, curious, the whiskey in her system drowning her filter. 

“Jesus, Jenna-“

“Sorry.” She says, though she doesn’t sound it, “Was that inappropriate?” 

“Just a little.” 

You should leave. The stars, the whiskey, the look in Jenna’s eyes. Her questions betraying her intentions. It’s too much. It’s not friendship. 

And you’d promised Emma-

“I’m glad you haven’t.” Jenna draws you back to her, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m glad you haven’t slept with her.” 

Her lips are wet. Plump, red. So kissable. You can’t help but look. She darts her tongue out, like she wants to keep your attention there. She’s so close now, you can feel the warmth from her body. You can smell the spice of her perfume. Apple, cinnamon, vanilla. You’re close enough to count the freckles dotted across her nose. 

Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, her body language screams. 

There’s a lump in your throat. You swallow once to get rid of it. It’s still there. This time it’s you who bites your lip. Watch as her eyes draw down to follow the movement. 

Stop it, you think, remember Emma.  

Emma and her shy smile. Emma and her pretty blue eyes. Emma and her jasmine-scented perfume, her blonde hair. 

Emma. Emma. Emma. 

You clear your throat. Try and snap yourself out of the Jenna-induced trance she’s put you in.

“Jenna. We’re friends. Friends don’t care about who’s dating who or who’s slept with who-“ 

“I don’t want to be friends.” She whispers. She’s given up all pretense of looking into your eyes. Her gaze is on your mouth, “You don’t want it either. I can see it. I can tell.” 

It’s the whiskey talking, you tell yourself. It has a grip on her. It has a grip on you, too. When the night’s over and it’s morning, she’ll go back to ignoring you and you’ll go back to wanting Emma. You try to tell her so. 

“We agreed-“ 

But she doesn't let you finish. 

One minute she’s staring at your lips, hungry look in her eyes. Like she’s starved, and the only thing that’ll satiate her is you. The next, there's a warm press against your mouth as her lips find yours.

Your eyes flutter closed. Butterflies erupt deep in your stomach, like they were caged and just set free. 

Her lips are soft, so soft, and you can feel her everywhere. The touch of her skin as her arm grazes yours. Her fingertips light as they ghost on the back of your neck. Then harder as they gripping the front of your shirt, pulling you down into her. 

Stop it, screams the voice in the back of your head, push her off, tell her to go home. 

But you can’t. 

She tastes like Jameson. Kissing her sets your entire body aflame. You feel it from your fingertips to the tips of your ears, burning hot with desire. You moan, brush your nose against hers as she deepens the kiss. Greedy, swollen lips against yours, hot tongue slipping into your mouth. 

Her kisses are nothing like Emma’s. Emma is all gentle, timid lips. The slight touch of a hand. Jenna kisses you like she’s sure. She pulls you into her, a little rough. She’s fierce, hard. She kisses you like she wants you desperately. You kiss her back like you want her just as bad. You do want her just as bad.

Emma’s face blurs to the back of your mind, Jenna's lips the only thing you're thinking of. 

You grip her hips, tug her to you. Cup her face and kiss her until your lips hurt and your brain goes foggy from the lack of oxygen.

Not moments later she’s pulling away.

You blink her back into view. Her eyes are closed, her lips red and swollen from yours. You brush her dark hair out of her face, press your noses together. Your heartbeat steadies. 

The parking lot light flickers, and you remember where you are. 

Reality comes crashing in. You swallow, retract slightly from her as you glance up to Emma’s apartment. Wonder if she can see you doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t. 

Jenna doesn’t let you go far. Her hands around your biceps, trying to keep you close. 

“Come home with me.” She murmurs. Her eyes are impossibly dark, so longing as she stares up into yours. 

You want to, so badly. But you can smell the booze on her breath. On yours too. And then you think of Emma. 

You retract slightly, voice low. 

“I can’t.” 

“Please. I want to take you home with me.” She begs. Her pupils are so wide you can’t even see the pretty brown of her chocolate-eske irises anymore. 

“I can’t. Emma.” Is all you say, pleading, like you’re begging her to understand. 

It jump-starts something in her. The humanity is back, the lust-crazed fog that had taken over lifting. Something shifts in her expression. Her pupils adjust, and she withdraws her vice-like grip on you. 

“Right.” She says, “Emma.” 

She shuffles back away from you, almost falling. You reach out for her, not wanting her to hit the pavement but she brushes you off. Not moments ago you were as close to her as you’d ever been. Now, it’s like your touch scalds her. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, and she sounds like she means it. She hangs a moment, like she wants to say something more. Her words fail her, “I’ve got to go.” 

And then she leaves you standing there in the parking lot alone, Emma on your mind and the ghost of Jenna's kiss on your lips.

Next part

[rootsofdread]

i'll never get tired of Ace getting a place in each and every my "x reader" request. Never.

So..Ace, Trickster, Yunjin, Kate and Dredge with a survivor, who can mimic any type of voice perfectly, no matter the gender, tone and distortion? They usually do it if the killer is trying to tunnel someone, when they are really, REALLY salty, or just to fuck with someone and say dumb shit in their voice while being hidden behind a rock or something

🦞 loveyouasalways

Ace Visconti:

Ace had heard someone’s voice beckon him from within a locker. He figured they needed some help with something. When he opened it, he saw you…definitely not who was speaking to him. You shook your head and he assumed he must just be hearing things — something not entirely unlikely in the fog. After he closed the locker and started heading out of the building, he heard the same voice call him again from the same locker. Now he knew that it had to be you…but there was no way that’s your voice, right? He came and opened the locker to surprise you, catching you in the act. You immediately started laughing, and so did he.

He decides to hang around you more often after this interaction. He loves seeing you pull the same prank on others, either for fun or for revenge, even on some killers. He really gets a kick out of it, usually giving both of you away in the process. Sometimes, he’ll employ you to use your vocal mimicry to trick some other survivors out of their items and add-ons; he has several bets running with quite a few of them, and sometimes he has a hard time winning them. He splits the winnings with you.

Kate Denson:

Kate was wandering around a dark forest looking for her teammates when she heard a beautiful singing voice from deep within the trees. As she got closer, she could swear it sounded like her own voice. Maybe someone found a recording of one of her songs on an old radio here…but when she finally found the source, she saw you sitting on a stump. You waved at her when she found you, which led her to believe you did this to catch her attention. She was a bit touched, truth be told.

You and her became close pretty quick after this. She found it both interesting and amusing, at times, that you could perfectly emulate anyone else’s voice. She loved singing with you, even if it may have been weird singing with someone who had the exact same singing voice as her, she still loved it. You and her did become known for messing with others as well, with both of you talking in the same voice but from opposite sides of someone, making their poor brain short circuit.

Yun-Jin Lee:

Yun-Jin was trying to open up a chest in the basement when she heard…Ji-Woon’s voice from behind her. She swore she wasn’t running from him this time, but her head still whipped around to make sure. She saw you immediately keel over laughing with another survivor. She figured it must have been payback for her sandbagging you earlier on in the trial. What a cruel joke…she purses her lips and goes back to opening up the chest, retrieving a decent flashlight and leaving with her head held high. You know you’ve started something.

For a while, her relationship with you is a rivalry, with the both of you constantly trying to get back at each other for something that the other one did. You do it in a much more…humorous way, with the way you always screw with her, while she takes it more seriously. At some point — neither of you are sure when exactly — the two of you became more friendly. She even begins finding your practical jokes funny. She enjoys tagging along with you to toy with someone else.

Ji-Woon Hak / The Trickster:

Ji-Woon had first heard you when he was trying to stick as many knives as he could into a certain survivor. He’d lost sight of them when they ran up the stairs of a building, and when he heard their voice downstairs, he assumed they must’ve jumped out a window to backtrack. As he runs downstairs to find them, he hears the distinct noise of them jumping out the window above him…but he swears he heard them downstairs. What the hell…just as he decides to head outside to see if he can find them again, he sees you peeking your head above a hole-ridden couch.

You’re most often a pest to him, though he does find your talents amusing. If he can manage to catch it, he loves seeing the look on other survivors’ faces when you perfectly mimic their voices, or try to throw them off by mimicking his own. It gives him a genuine, little laugh. Sometimes, he does try to convince you to use your talent to lure other survivors into his clutches, agreeing is an easy way to earn his favor; but he knows most survivors aren’t so quick to give up their teammates. Either way, he tends to find you…quirky.

The Dredge:

The Dredge had first heard your talents when it had been a little too focused on one survivor that had managed to make it angry. It lost sight of them for a few moments when it heard their voice from inside the Killers’ shack. When it teleported there, and jumped out of the locker, it was surprised to find no one was in there…and there seemed to be no trace of anyone having been in there. It whipped its head all around for a few seconds before it heard giggling from inside the second locker, and it locked eyes with you from between the slats in the top.

After this, it comes to find you more entertaining than an annoyance. It took a while, but now when it finds you after trying to find someone else, you hear it laugh a little before turning to find whoever it was actually searching for. You even catch it by surprise when you perfectly recreate its mass of screaming voices. Sure, it was aware you could mimic people, but it had no idea you could mimic…anything. This entertains it to no end, and you can make it giggle just by repeating anything it had said in its own voice.

[ihearthes]

Christmas Thyme Part 2

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 3060

READ Part 1 HERE

Leaving the bank where I’ve deposited the day’s earnings, I notice Harry has his hands stuffed in his pockets as he jauntily walks beside me. “Not a fan of the cold?” I ask, and he shakes his head. 

“I’ve gotten better at it.” He huddles in his coat. “There was a time when being cold was the worst thing in the world. I would shiver no matter how many layers I had on.”

“That’s me to my core. I can be cold anytime, anywhere. But you chose to live in London instead of Los Angeles. Why?” Genuinely curious, I watch his face as we walk towards the closest chippy. I said I’d buy him dinner for his help, but I’m still trying to save every penny I can and sink it back into the business. So his usual elegant fare is not on the menu tonight, and he’ll just have to deal with that. Not that he seems the least bit upset or offended by the idea of fish and chips. 

He glances at me. 

“Oh,” I reply to his glance. “I get it. Off limits. Private. Personal.” Waving my hand, I seek to soothe him. “Don’t even worry, Harry. You don’t owe me answers to my inane questions.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s not really a big secret or anything –”

“Doesn’t matter. You have the right to choose what you share with strangers.” 

“True.” Hunching his shoulders, he looks away from me. “It was definitely warmer in LA which I enjoyed. And I know a lot of people there – many who are friends – close friends even. But…it just never felt like home, you know? During the pandemic, I was there at first, and it just all felt so…off. Not me, you know?” 

I nod. “Same experience when I moved away from London for work. It just didn’t feel like it fit. Coming home to take care of my dad was a blessing in more ways than one.” Arriving at the chippy, I glance at my watch. “Shit. They close soon.”

“Guess we’ll have to order takeaway.” 

I don’t ask where we’ll eat it. The possibilities make my stomach flip upside down. Yanking on the handle, he holds the door for me as we walk into the blast of heat. The sultry tones of “The Christmas Song” by Greg Spero, and it makes my heart happy. Grinning, my smile widens when Harry takes my hand and twirls me around as though we had been dancing the entire way here. He waltzes me to the counter where the guy looks at us wearily. 

“We’re closing soon.” The attitude borders on surly but doesn’t quite make it. 

“No problem,” Harry replies. “We’ll have two suppers for takeaway. Mushy peas?” He asks me, and I nod eagerly. 

“We’re out of peas.” The sentence is short, and the young man who delivers it sounds bored. 

“Then just the fish and chips, my good man!” Harry’s energy is the exact opposite of our order taker who simply sighs, punches some buttons on the register, and lazily shouts, “Two suppers! Takeaway!” 

As Harry begins to remove his wallet, I playfully nudge him aside, withdrawing money from my back pocket and placing it on the counter. “My treat, remember?”

“I would never forget that.” His response is lighthearted and jolly. “After all, I slaved all day for my pay.” 

“All day?” I scoff. “Try two hours.” 

“Still…” 

“Mhm.” I follow my doubtful tone with a grin, and he grins back. I swear we stand there beaming at each other until the order is ready. It’s both dorky and endearing. Which is about what I imagined meeting this man would include – if, I mean, I’d ever thought about meeting him. 

Swinging the bag with our supper inside, Harry steps onto the pavement outside. “Where to?” 

I bite my lip. “Well, we could go trace our steps back to the shop or…” Hesitating, I finally reveal the second choice. “...my dad’s flat is just around the corner here.” I gesture with my hand, and Harry’s eyes widen before they narrow. 

“If you’re planning to kidnap me, I’ll have you know I’ve left a trail for the police to locate me.” 

“Dammit,” I smile. “Foiled again.” His teasing has put me at ease, and I start leading him to my home. “Usually I would never invite a man home when we’ve just met…” 

“Yeah? What’s different about me?” 

“I think I would have heard if there were a trail of bodies in every town you’ve visited. Not the kind of secret you could keep for long.” 

Chuckling heartily, Harry shifts to the opposite side of the sidewalk when we cross the street. It’s a gentlemanly move, and it’s one I’ve not often had the pleasure of experiencing with the men I’ve dated. Not that they’ve been oafs or criminals or horrible humans. But they haven’t been chivalrous for sure. 

When we arrive, I push open the gate and lead Harry to my garden flat. The front door leads us directly into the reception room. 

“I thought you’d lived here for a couple of years?” Harry asks, surveying the boxes on the floor. 

“Christmas decorations,” I laugh. “I’ve not had a chance to put anything up yet since I’ve been so busy with the store.” Removing the takeaway bag from his hand, I move towards the kitchen. “Let me put this on real plates.” 

“Don’t do that,” Harry interjects. “No need for you to have to tidy up dishes.” 

“Special occasion! I’ve got company.” From the cupboard, I withdraw plates for us. Opening the containers, I snag a chip and take a bite quickly. “Oh wow. They didn’t have mushy peas, but they certainly have mushy chips.” 

“Uh oh.” 

“It’s fine. Give me a minute to heat up the air fryer. I’ll crisp them up in no time.” Opening the fridge, I remove a bottle of white wine. “Perhaps you could open this for us?” Holding out the wine and the corkscrew, I’m relieved when he takes both while I locate wine glasses. Now that he’s here in my space, I feel anxious. While liquid courage might have the side effect of blurring some memories later, it will also assist me in the midst of this bizarre Hallmark Christmas movie I’ve walked into. Or rather that Harry walked into when he entered my store. 

Connecting my phone to the bluetooth speaker, I start a jazz Christmas station playing as the air fryer beeps. Adding the chips to the container, I start it for three minutes. From behind me, I hear the glug of wine being poured from the bottle. 

“My lady.” His voice is husky, and I turn at his words to find Harry holding out a glass of wine to me, filled nearly to the brim. “I think there’s something wrong with your bottle.” Holding up his glass, also completely full, he shows me the empty wine bottle. “It only holds two glasses of wine.” 

I can’t help it. My laughter escapes, and the glass in my hand jiggles with my giggles until I have to take a sip to keep the wine from overflowing onto my hand. My face softening when I look at him, I hold up my glass in his general direction. 

“Thank you for this tonight, Harry. You’ve made me laugh, and that’s not something I’ve done often enough lately.” 

“I think you should laugh every day,” he grins, moving closer to me and clinking his glass with mine. “Thank you for keeping me entertained after my sister ditched me.” 

Warren Wolf’s version of “Oh Christmas Tree” starts, and Harry takes my glass and sets both on the counter before he grasps my hand and puts his other hand on my waist as he twirls me around on the kitchen floor. Throwing my head back, I laugh out loud at the continuous twirling he leads me to do until I’m out of breath and somehow against the counter with Harry plastered close to me. 

We’re both giggling and breathing heavily from the dancing until I look up and catch his eyes on mine. Holy shit. He’s so fucking hot. Those eyes alone make my knickers wet, but when his tongue darts out and his eyes focus on my mouth, I’m lost. This is how it happens in movies, right? And I’m currently sleepwalking through a Hallmark Christmas movie. So when he leans forward and touches our lips together, I go with it. 

The melding of our mouths leads to his hands landing on my waist as he slides up the bottom of my jumper just enough to rub his thumbs on my bare skin. A moan leaves my mouth which also has the advantage of providing access for Harry’s tongue to enter, and I cannot get enough of his flavour. He tastes like candy canes and snowflakes. When he steps closer and slides his leg between my jean-clad thighs, I whimper. There’s no other word for the sound that rips itself from my throat. 

Which is when the timer on the air fryer goes off. 

I see. I’m not in a Hallmark Christmas movie. I’m in a television Christmas comedy. Figures. 

Feeling Harry’s smile against my lips, I am grateful when he doesn’t abruptly separate from me but rather maintains his nearness while gazing into my eyes. A sheepishness comes over him then, and I blink to bring myself back to reality. “I am so sorry. I should have asked for consent. That was…rude.” 

“Really? I was thinking how incredibly pleasant it was.” 

The smirk makes an appearance, and he surveys me, removing his hands from my waist and stepping back so that his leg is no longer propping me up from being a giant pool of jelly on the floor. So I’m surprised when I remain standing, although I’m not surprised that my head follows his for a brief moment before I snap to attention. 

Trying to get us back on track with supper, I politely say, “I think the chips are no longer wilted.” 

“They’re not the only thing no longer wilted,” Harry says, and I glance at him sharply. 

“We could –” 

“Skip supper?” The enthusiasm in his voice dampens my panties further, and although that hadn’t been what I was going to say at all, I simply nod and go along with the suggestion. 

Food? What’s food? I’ve eaten before. I’ll eat again. But right now I have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to do something insane that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. 

With my head’s singular bob, Harry steps forward again, burying his hands in my hair as he tilts my head back to delve back into the practice we’d been doing previously. Knowing where we’re headed this time, I have no qualms about sliding my hands under his crewneck and towards the waistband of his joggers. 

He removes his mouth from mine long enough to blather on, “Are you – do you have – should we –”

“I’ve not had sex with another human in months. Definitely clean of STDs, and I have condoms. Somewhere.” Shit. Where were those? 

“Per-” Instead of finishing the word, he plants his lips back on my mouth, his tongue mimicking the dance we’ll soon be doing if either of us has any say. And we do.

“Bedroom!” I exclaim as I break the seal between us, having just remembered that the condoms are in my bedside table drawer. Taking control (and his hand), I guide him towards my bedroom – the one my father had insisted I take over when I moved in, relegating the older man to the former guest room. “Pretty sure they’re in –” Without finishing my sentence, I’m sorting through the items in my drawer as I feel Harry behind me, his hands sneaking around my waist to my button and zipper. With no qualms, he undoes both, sliding my jeans down my legs until I can step out of them. 

“Shoes!” I squeak, and Harry chuckles before untying my shoes and gently removing them from my feet. 

“Since I’m already here,” the devil grins, as he makes short work of my knickers too, removing all of my bottom half clothing so that I feel a breeze on my private parts. I have a moment of freakout when I can’t recall the last time I’d done any…um…landscaping there, but the thought disappears when I feel his breath on my thighs. “Mmmmm…I think I’ll start my meal here.” He raises my left leg and places it on the bed, exposing my entirety to his gaze. I grasp the bedside table to maintain my balance. 

Good thing I’m holding onto something solid because the second his tongue touches my labia, my knees weaken. Having no idea how I’ve lost control of the situation, I have no choice but to pant wildly while he makes short work of my clit, my juices already inflamed and flowing. 

“OH MY GOD!” I scream, and I can feel his stupid dimple on my skin as he smiles. How can someone feel the absence of space? No clue, but I swear that’s what I feel. My orgasm starts to build, and I grip the table more tightly as I tumble into the chasm of the mouth that belongs to one popstar named Harry Styles. Nearly collapsing, I am grateful when Harry adjusts my leg so that both are solidly on the ground to hold me up. 

But then he reaches around me, snagging a condom I’d unknowingly managed to unearth in my frantic movements. Behind me, I hear the wrapper being torn, and when I move to stand, Harry places a hand on my back. “Stay there.” 

There’s no sound of a zipper since he’s not wearing trousers, but I hear the latex snap just before I feel the head of his cock at my entrance. Once again, he places his hand on my back. 

“Let me know if it’s too much.” 

Most men who say this must be joking because I’ve often had to wonder if their member was even inside me. But not Harry. Holy fuck. His cock stretches my walls, and I have to tap his thigh once and call for a pause. 

“Too much?” 

“No. Just…let me adjust…” Bending forward some by crossing my arms on the night table and resting my head on my folded arms allows him to slip inside a bit further, and I can feel him all the way deep inside me. 

“Woah,” he breathes, and I agree. “Can I move now?” 

“Slowly at first please. I’m wet, but we might need more lubrication.” From the night table, I withdraw a bottle of lube and hand it around to him. 

“Oh, good plan,” he says, and I hear the bottle opening and the squish of liquid being extracted before he withdraws slightly. This time when he plunges inside me, I gasp at the feel. “Still need me to go slow?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I warn. 

The man sets a pace that would go well with Kiwi or Only Angel. Steady. Fast. Reaching around, he teases my clit, and I groan in pleasure. After a few minutes at this pace in this position, my body starts to respond, and I feel my second orgasm building. 

Which is when Harry pulls completely out. Surprised, I twist to look at him. And laugh. He raises an eyebrow, and I clarify. “We must look a sight with both of us bottomless and our tops still on.” 

He grins, his cock standing up tall with the condom straining against its length and girth. “Strip show?” 

“Shortest strip show in the history of the planet,” I grin as I pull my Christmas jumper with its tree and presents over my head. “Forgot I had this on.” Reaching up, I start to remove the necklace I’m wearing. 

“Leave it,” Harry growls. 

My mouth dry, I give in, removing only my bra. “Your turn,” and when he pulls off the crewneck, I wheeze at the sight of the butterfly and the laurels and the sparrow, never having expected to view them this close. 

“How do you turn these on?” He demands, reaching for the strand of novelty Christmas lights surrounding my neck. 

“Same way you turn me on,” I tease, reaching both hands behind my neck, knowing exactly how the pose pushes my breasts forward. As the lights start blinking, Harry’s eyes light up and he captures my nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling in ways I’ve never felt before as he tweaks my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

I think I’m going to pass out. 

Just when I get used to the feeling, he swaps breasts, humming in between. “The lights make it even more fun,” he devilishly snarls before latching onto my other breast. 

When I’m close to losing my mind, I drop to my knees, planting my lips around the condom and applying suction. 

“HOLY –” Harry shrieks. He’s too big for me to deep throat completely, so I add a hand to his length, using circular motions with both my tongue and my fingertips, but in opposite directions. I’m quite pleased with myself until he taps me on the head. 

“I really would prefer to be inside you” is his polite comment, and who am I to deny this famous celebrity whatever he wants?

The bed covers get firmly wrinkled as we squirm together on the bed, his cock plunging into me from as many angles as we can think of, and the edging is starting to wear on me. 

“I can’t…Harry…I need…” 

“I got you.” And he does. With my legs in the air on his shoulders, his large gorgeous hands on my breasts, and his cock deeply embedded in me, he drives me to orgasm, and I cry out his name over and over again, forgetting everything but this moment. 

And then I get the pleasure of watching as his eyes roll back in his head, his chin turns towards the ceiling, and his entire body spasms as he spills into the condom. 

Merry Christmas to me!

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a one shot, but I think there’s one more part of the story to tell if you’re interested. Let me know if you’ll read it, and I’ll write part 3. 

[artoatsblog]

What your favorite Nick toon says about you but it's EVERY Nick toon

Doug- When you were asked what you wanted for Christmas, you said "plan white bread."

Rugrats- You're a "90's kid" who wants the modern cartoon enjoyers to get off your lawn.

Hey Arnold-Same as Rugrats, but 5 time worse.

Rugrats (2021)- You only said this one to piss off the above two.

Ren & Stimpy- You're a gay man and all you OCs are ugly men who you need to kiss each other or else you'll die (This isn't an insult, you're the strongest member of our society.)

Rocko's modern life- You relate to at least one character way more than you would like to admit to others.

CatDog- Weird furry.

The angry beavers- Weird furry with taste.

Aaahh!!! Real monsters- You like the idea of Tim Burton's movies but your too cool to actually enjoy them, also your probably non-binary.

Kablam- As a kid you wanted to make something with this exact energy and now, you're a youtuber.

Oh Yeah! Cartoons- same as Kablam but you really miss Cosmo's old voice.

The wild Thornberry's- You worship the ground Tim Curry's walks on SO BAD.

Rocket power- Honest 90's kid.

SpongeBob SquarePants seasons 1-4- You're annoying about seasons 5+.

SpongeBob SquarePants seasons 5+- You know better than me about those people being annoying about seasons 5+.

As told by ginger- You were going to say Hey Arnold, but you didn't want to be lumped in with certain other people.

Action league now- You made at least five short films that look exactly like this.

Chalkzone- Your playlist for working out has the theme song for this show looped for five hours and nothing else.

The fairly oddparents- Your trans, and you hate no other person more than Elmer Hartman.

Invader Zim- You were a vary emo kid/teenager in the late 2000's (same, no shade)

Jimmy Neutron- you're really glad that that you picked the show in "Jimmy Timmy power hour" that wasn't made by an asshole.

All grown up- Come on guys "As told by ginger" is right there.

Avatar: the last airbender- I don't want to hear the lore of the fantasy book you wrote.

Avatar: the legend of Korra- Same as atla but You also made a LOT of shipping fanfics.

My life as a teenage robot- Transfem.

The X's- You don't exist, if you're going to go into the comments and say this is your favorite Nicktoon, you're lying.

El Tigre- This is just the good version of Danny Phantom.

Danny Phantom- That was a Joke don't yell at me.

Mr. meaty- You want this odd but cool type of puppetry to come back (if you thought I was going to make fun of this one your wrong.)

Tak and the power of Juju- Your enjoyment of this show is based entirely on the fact that you liked the games.

Back at the barnyard- Shitposter.

Fanboy and Chum Chum- Shitposter but awesome.

Catscratch- Yeah, I think Wayne Knight's voice is hot too.

The mighty B- Gay.

The penguins of Madagascar- I don't have a joke for this one I just think you have impactable taste.

Planet Sheen- You always wanted Jimmy Neutron to have more "Rawr XD" swag.

T.U.F.F puppy- You ether are Jerry Trainor, or you have a Jerry Trainor stan account.

Kung fu panda: legends of awesomeness- You have a three-hour lore video on this franchise, and I hope it does well.

Winx club- You wanted to help them get free from Netflix.

Robot and Monster- It may just be me, but I think you might enjoy Dan vs.

Teenage mutant ninja turtles (2012)- You don't like rise of the tmnt.

Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles- You don't like tmnt (2012).

Sanjay and Craig- You used to freak other kids out with your scabs.

Monsters vs aliens- You can deny Coverton's rizz (sorry).

Breadwinners- Your about to go into every cartoon reviewers house with a shit ton of water balloons.

Harvey Beaks- In the middle/late 2000's you were more of a cartoon network kid, you loved Cowder.

Pig, Goat, Banana, Cricket- Same as Harvey Beaks but with Flapjack instead of Cowder.

Bunsen is a beast- Your Elmer Hartman.

Welcome to the Wayne- You wrote at least one fanfic for the ending of this show.

The adventures of kid danger- We don't talk about this one.

Middle school Moguls- it's ok monster high is about to come to Nick for real.

The loud house- Your ether a sapphic girl or a straight guy with a DeviantArt account who needs to be punished.

The Casagrandes- Same as the loud house but with the added advantages, because if you have a DeviantArt account in this one you're more likely to have a normal relationship with your family.

It's pony- You don't hate the British as much as the rest of us.

Middlemost post- John trabbic III is such a bad ass name though, wait this show has Del the funky homosapien and Tony Hawk as guest stars, I might need to which this.

Star trek: prodigy- You really like Netflix original animated shows don't you.

Big Nate- You haven't read the books.

Monster high- You the perfect in-between of goth and prep.

Transformers: earthspark- Why does this show have better non-binary rep than most other shows...I mean they are called Transformers for a reason.

[splatsvilles-fashionista]

Splatoon 3 Version 8.0 patch notes breakdown

A bit late with this one, as I didn't have the time to write it last night, but nevertheless, here's a quick rundown of the patch notes for version 8.0, which should release in a couple of hours as of time of writing.

First of all, the Sizzle Season 2024 content is being added, but will not be available for another 24-ish hours. That includes:

A new Catalog

The new stage Lemuria Hub

Two new main weapons, two variants of those main weapons, and six alternate sets for preexisting main weapons.

14 Tableturf cards

Two new songs by SashiMori

The renovated Hammerhead Bridge and Barnacle & Dime, which will be taken out of stage rotations when the update becomes available.

Wandercrust Journey 6.

Additionally, this patch also adds data for the new Triumvirate King Salmonid fight and a new Grizzco Weapon, as well as the new Splatfest features, both of which will not become available until a later date.

With Sizzle Season 2024 stuff out of the way, let's move onto the changes that will be available right away, starting with Stage Changes, which there are a lot of.

In addition the Hammerhead Bridge and Barnacle & Dime changes, Museum d'Alfonsino, Um'ami Ruins, Brinewater Springs, and Scorch Gorge are all getting layout changes, with Museum getting some extra changes in Splat Zones and Rainmaker specifically. Eeltail Alley, Hagglefish Market, Flounder Heights, Marlin Airport and Manta Maria are all getting "slight" changes, while Crableg Capital and Bluefin Depot are getting slight changes in Turf War and Splat Zones, and Clam Blitz, respectively.

I'll be entirely honest, until we see these changes for ourselves it's impossible to gauge just what these changes will be like, but I am willing to be optimistic given just how much improvement we've seen in the Stage design over the last year or so. I think they'll be slight improvements at worst.

With that said, let's move onto Main Weapon changes, starting with a bunch of weapons getting the exact same change.

Sploosh, Jr, Aerospray, Luna, Clash, Carbon, Splat Roller, Inkbrush, Octobrush, and Dapples will all now deal 10% more damage to Splash Walls. I'm not sure why this was listed on each weapon individually and not just all collected as a Splash Wall change, but I digress. The intent here seems to be to make short-range weapons specifically, better at dealing with Splash Wall, the users of which they'll generally be outranged by to begin with. It's a small and specific change, but it's not one I think any of these weapons will complain about.

N-ZAP will now be able to fire for longer before its hits max bullet spread. In case you didn't know, all shooters that have bullet spread have a property where that spread gradually increases the longer you hold ZR, which slowly goes back to normal if you stop firing, and now that'll take longer on N-ZAP specifically.

N-Zap didn't really need this buff, but it's also not something that moves the needle much to begin with. It's pretty rare outside of low-level turf wars that someone fires for long enough to the spread to be a major factor, so it's fine. It's just a very strange change.

Moving onto more deserved buffs, L-3 has its damage increased by 2, taking a full three-hit burst from 87 to 93 damage. This is not a significant change, but 30 is a pretty important damage threshold to hit, as it combos with a lot of things, and it does mean that getting even lightly chipped by almost anything at all puts you in one-shot range, so watch out!

Rapid Blaster now starts recovering ink after firing about 3 frames faster. It's another nice little buff, though like N-ZAP it is kind of strange this weapon is being buffed at all when it's in a pretty good spot right now.

Now here's something interesting, Tri-Stringer will now paint the ground better, and will now paint lines more consistently. Turfing has always been one of Tri-Stringer's biggest weaknesses, so this is a very nice buff!

Last but not least is my favourite change in the entire patch. REEF-LUX now charges at full speed while in the air, similar to how Squiffer works. This is just a fantastically cool buff if you ask me, it's one of those things that seem insignificant on paper but can really change up how a weapon plays in a major way. It wasn't until after Squiffer got this change in Splatoon 2 that the weapon really came into its own, after all.

With Main Weapon changes down, let's move onto Points for Special changes, of which there are four (technically three):

Big Swig Express and Painbrush are ten points cheaper, and both variants of E-Liter are ten points more expensive. Not a lot to discuss here, so let's move onto Special Weapons:

The rails that indicate the Reefslider's path will now ink the floor as they extend forward, potentially allowing you paint over an enemy's feet before running them over. The rail will now also follow moving terrain, which is a change I'll admit I am not sure what it does? We'll just have to see when the patch goes live.

Big Bubbler now paints the ground inside of the shield. A nice quality of life change that could potentially be used to do some silly things in Splat Zones, if you're so inclined.

Ink Vac will now paint the ground behind you while it's active. Nintendo specifies later on in the patch notes that this is because they want you to be more reliably able to use it while retreating, and yeah, that's what this change will do.

For our final Special change, Splattercolor Screen now deals more damage to Beakons, Sprinkler, Splash Wall, sponges, and the Rainmaker's shield. Like with the Ink Vac changes, Nintendo specifies what the purpose of this buff is in the patch notes, and in this case it's to reward people more for using the Screen well.

And that's all the balance changes for this patch, but there is actually one more Main Weapon change that is not listed with the rest, because it's a bit different:

These changes are very wordy, but the TL;DR is that Squeezer now has a hard cap on how fast it can fire, which is the same as its regular fire speed. That might sound like a completely pointless change, and I thought so initially as well, but it seems the intent here is to not have the weapon be improved by turbo controllers, as they can let you mash ZR at much, much faster paces than intended.

With all that said, let's round things out with some miscellaneous changes:

If you roll or dash into the Rainmaker shield you'll now slide off it, as opposed to the game continuously attempting to place you where the shield is at and dealing a bunch of contact damage to you, splatting you almost instantly.

You'll now start the next season in S+0 if you were top 1000 in the previous season's X rank.

Squid Beakons are now accounted for when awarding the Super Jump Spot medal, which I am frankly surprised wasn't the case already?

I lied, there is one more Main Weapon change. Grizzco Dualies now deal 5 more damage with their actual bullets. That means they three-shot Chum now!

Reflected Drizzler torpedoes will now collide with terrain less, reducing the situations where you shoot one back only to have it immediately crash into a ledge it just barely touches.

Finally, purchasing the Expansion Pass will now net you 10 free Sheldon Licenses. If you've already bought the Expansion Pass then you'll be given the Licenses after downloading the update. Just in time for ten new weapons to be added as part of the Sizzle Season!

[ilove-kate-bishop]

No Words Needed

Kate Bishop x Autistic!Reader

Summary: After a close encounter with the Track suits, Kate comes over to your apartment to get help taking care of the wounds. It just takes one look at you for her to know that this will be a quiet evening. She is more then ok with that.

Warnings: blood, injury,

Note: Just meant to be a bit fluff with Kate being understanding of you going nonverbal. This is pure self indulgence and a bit of experimentation when writing, I am trying to get back into writing.

Note that I do know that not everyone has the same experience, I am using my experience here.

Autism is a spectrum, we all experience it differently.

Kate took a deep breath before knocking against your window. It had a certain rhythm to it, part of some song or another you liked. It had been agreed on by the two of you that you would only open the window at night if someone knocked like that. The Archer quietly sang some of the lyrics while waiting for you, trying to ignore the pain in her side. The wound stopped bleeding a while ago. The blood on her hands was dry by now. 

The window was slowly opened, and for a moment, you two just stared at each other. "I need your help patching up." Kate's voice was almost a whisper, but you still responded with a nob and gave her space to enter your apartment. 

The lamps were out, the only light coming from your tv with some show playing Kate didn't know. The tone seemed to be off, but once she stopped walking, she could faintly hear the voices of the characters. 

The young Avenger watched as you disappeared into your bathroom and came out with a purple box. She couldn't stop the small laugh escaping her. You had gotten it after you helped her the first time, insisting that, yes Kate I need to keep an extra amount of stuff to help you, and, it makes it quicker to find it Kate.

You looked up at her for a moment when you heard her laugh, but moved your eyes down again as you prepared everything on the small table in front of the couch. Kate sat down next to it, not wanting to get any dirt or blood on the couch, knowing full well the way did not like that. 

You didn't talk to her for days after she ruined your first couch. You could hold a grudge well. She bought you a new one, and it was not easy to get the exact same couch again.

But after that Kate, and even Yelena (you didn't know her well, but she was nice, you never quite understood why Kate was freaked out the first time she found her in your apartment), would make sure to not ruin anything in your apartment. And that included not sitting on your couch when injured and dirty.

Kate startled when she felt you poke her arm. "Oh right sorry", she raised it so that you could take a look at the wound. And with that you started to work. The hero decided to take a look at the room to distract herself. It was a mess, though your apartment always was one in a way. An organized mess, you would call it. 

Your work clothes were thrown over your chair in front of your pc and even though the chair was turned away from her, she knew that your purse was probably on it as well, since it was not on the table. The garbage was in front of your apartment door, ready to be taken out in the morning. 

She faintly noted that it seemed like you hadn't touched the book on the table since the day before when she had been there. 

So it has not been a good day for you either. 

"Did something happen at work?". You only gave her a short nob again as you started to pack up again, being done with patching her up. "That one woman again?" You gave her a short look. "Sorry, It's your battlefield, not mine.", seemingly satisfied, you turned away again.

It was quiet again as you stood up and put the purple box back into the bathroom. You came out again and searched through some drawers before giving Kate an oversized shirt and shorts. She took it and went to the bathroom to clean herself up and put the clothes on.

You and Kate never quite put a label on whatever was going on between you two. Mostly because you never put a label on anything, Kate is pretty sure you weren't even aware the two of you were friends till Yelena called you her "cute little friend." (Kate would never forget the heart attack she got when she found the black widow with you. She never got the heart to tell you who Yelena was. You seemed to enjoy her company)

You were more than alright to take anything Kate gave you and to give whatever she would accept. 

She knew it had many factors why you were like that. You never have been in a serious relationship before, and most of your friendships dissolved over the years. To you, the lines between platonic and romantic are not clear, especially with someone as flirty as Kate could be, and she knows she probably needs to talk about that with you someday soon.

But tonight was not the time for that. You probably had too much going on in your head right now anyway, which was the reason you were silent.

When she left the bathroom, the TV was out, but there was a faint light coming from your bedroom.

When she entered, you were laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Clearly leaving open space for her to lay down on. The light came from a small lamp next to you, it was not too bright, giving the room a nice atmosphere. 

Slowly Kate came to the bed, your eyes following her. She smiled at you while she came down next to you, you turned to her. Now both of you were staring at each other laying on the side. Gently one of Kate's hands took hold of one of yours, slowly enough to give you the chance to pull away in case you didn't want to be touched. But you didn't move away. 

She leaned forward, gently kissing your forehead. "Thank you for patching me up". She kept her voice low, you smiled at her softly. She could kiss you again, for real this time, but hold back. That was a step you never had done before, and would probably be too much right now. 

She was content to fall asleep like this, holding your hand. 

Once you were ready to talk tomorrow, she would be there. 

[missoneminute]

As the resident "Peter person" which frankly is in short supply in these parts (listen, I mock y'all but with love), I get being on Peter's side in like, 2004. I was, I get it.

I bought into a lot of the narrative Peter spun, about how wounded and betrayed he was. And he was, that is fair. But Peter is very good at whining, and it takes a while a work out that for every raw truth he speaks, he has ten more fleeting agendas on the go, and all of them literally contradicting each other. And back then, Carl was just, really, really guarded - he was a lot, lot quieter than Peter on that front, he wasn't airing that laundry every fucking time he opened his mouth, unlike the big one. It was easy to see him as aloof, his motivations unclear and untrustworthy. Yeah, there was the occasional tearful interview, but Peter was LOUD. Very, very loud, and right after that he got so ridiculously famous that Carl's narrative was utterly drowned under the noise of it all. I can even admit it took me until I saw There Are No Innocent Bystanders to understand that these two people carried equal wounds, equal love, equal obsession and walked away from that experience both extremely damaged, and with a huge chasm in their lives only the other could fill. But in the intervening years it also became clear that you can't always trust what comes out of Peter's mouth. He may say the exact opposite exactly five minutes later, and for all the genuine, horrible pain he went through with that band, and with Carl, it's undeniable that he caused most of it. He wasn't well, neither of them were, they each handled it badly, as you'd expect a pair of mentally ill, drug addicted, codependent weirdos would. In hindsight, it's all incredibly visible, how it all played out and that there's no one left to blame, as the song goes. But that is what gets me. As someone who went on that whole journey, who absolutely took a side at the time, I cannot fathom how in the year 2024, with everything right in front of us and 20 some years of history so entirely exposed, how anyone held onto those prejudices, when those two men themselves have not. And if you got as far as 2010 still on a side, I don't know how you held onto it by sheer force after seeing them spill their hearts like they did. So, really, when I see these absolute muppets on certain Facebook groups act like it's 2004 and we haven't had a literal decade of water under the bridge and twenty years to gauge what these men's personalities are actually like, it's honestly embarassing. At the bare minimum people ought to grow up at the same rate as the band they love. If they can put it all behind them, y'all ain't doing anyone any favours pretending the sound of Peter spitting in a cup would be better than a Libs album just because you still think you gotta protect him from a man he loves and who loves him, dearly.

[heyftinally]

Hi there. I wanted to pick your brain about something. A critique I often see of Taylor is that she's greedy, which is something I would agree with. My issue is that her being an a-hole is often conflated with her being a capitalist, that's where my objection comes in. I'm the daughter of a bank manager, I studied economics, I've been investing my savings since I was a child, and I make more money than most people my age. Here's something I learned about making money, after you buy a nice home and a nice car, and have money stashed away in case your investments blow up in your face, any money you make above your monthly expenses, is actually money you never see. They're just numbers on a paper, they have no perceivable value in your life due to the fact that they'll never be spent. What I'm trying to explain is that I believe what makes rich people a-holes isn't that they're good at making money, but rather, that they don't give away/set up funds and allow others to benefit from that money. Taylor selling 10 different versions of the same album and crazy people buying them? Good for her. But Taylor not paying for Ana Clara's funeral and the parents asking for donations? That's what makes her an a-hole.

So, here's my hot take: yeah, her being obscenely wealthy is part of the problem.

1. Nobody needs to be a BILLIONAIRE. No one. They're inherently unethical. Whether you actually have that much cash in the bank or not is irrelevant. Taylor swift has two private jets that she uses like bicycles just because she can. That's unethical. Not only is it killing the planet needlessly, but the money spent on those could be better used being donated to those in need. Her fifty bazillion dollar outfits for tours don't need to cost as much as they do, especially when half the time they look like they're only worth about $100. She over spends just to flex how rich she is, and that money could be paying for the dinner of a needy family or getting a Palestinian family to refuge from the genocide instead of buying Taylor Swift a new shiny thing to flaunt.

2) the way she markets her music is absolutely an asshole move. She creates (often faux) scarcity with five different "limited edition" version of an album, then acts like they're all THE most incredible thing ever. She's convinced her fans that she's some kind of impossibly intelligent god that can only create perfection, and luers them into buying 5-10 copies of the exact same damn CD for not reason. That's predatory. Put the one singular bonus song on each CD all on one with five bonus songs and call it the deluxe edition or whatever like EVERY OTHER musician does. To do nothing but add a single different song is nothing short of greedy. Same with randomly releasing a single of Fortnight SOLELY to try and beat out Espresso on the charts. Everyone already has the album, WHY do they need a single with no other added extras? To stroke Taylor's over inflated ego?

An example of an ethical rich person is Abigail Disney, daughter of Roy Disney (Walt's brother). She donates exorbitant amounts of money to various charities, has started some of her own, and actively fights for more equality between economic brackets. She'll always have more money than she needs, much like Taylor. The difference is Abigail actively seeks to even the playing field - Taylor wants to be the queen bee on top.

[cacoetheswriting]

heyy

can you do a angst with fluffy ending with eddie x reader on reader birthday (but not that he forgot pls 🙏🏻) you can decide the rest

thank you so much!! 💖💖

gosh i am sooooo sorry for only getting this out to you now! it's been sitting in my drafts, half-finished for far too long! again, super sorry for the delay - and i hope you enjoy 🤍

-

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.3k content warnings: talk of breakups / heartbreak (eddie & reader are exes), adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Birthdays weren’t really your thing.

Celebrating getting older stopped being fun when the gifts turned from colourful toys to cards with generic wishes, and when parties went from having bright bouncy castles to drinking cheap wine alone in a messy apartment at the end of an even messier night. From pure, unfiltered joy, to misery and feeling like your life was slipping through your fingers, fast.

There were a few expectations over the last few years — four lucky birthdays to be exact. And these happy memories came into existence thanks to a certain curly-haired, brown-eyed boy.

Eddie first asked you out a few days before your nineteenth birthday and even though the two of you never really talked prior, there was no denying he was really fucking pretty and you had a big fat silent crush on him for quite some time before that faithful afternoon.

He invited you out for burgers, and in the midst of natural conversation, when you let slip that it was your birthday, Eddie also got you ice-cream, asking the waiter to place a single candle in the colourful sundae.

Till this day, it was the most genuine thing anyone has ever done for you. The most romantic too.

And every birthday that followed, every birthday you spent together with the metalhead was beyond special. He made them special.

From balloons and love notes, to heartfelt gifts, various activities during the day and dinners at his trailer or out in town. He even rallied your friends and threw you parties that no longer ended with loneliness. No year was the same. Eddie made them unique and memorable — which you adored him for wholeheartedly.

Unfortunately, the genuine love you shared was not enough and the relationship came to an unforeseen end.

Eddie had big plans of one day becoming a rockstar, practicing guitar in his free time till his fingers bled, and you were studying day and night, working towards your dream degree. Your lives were heading in completely different directions and there came a point where you only saw each other once every fortnight, while your already irregular phone calls were often cut short.

That was three months ago. A breakup as natural as breathing, yet equally as earth shattering.

Even though it was a mutual decision, the pain was ever present and you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after. Eddie took a piece of you when he left and your whole body was in mourning. It didn’t help that everything in what remained of your life reminded you of him. Physical items like the printed t-shirts in your drawer or the mug he branded as his and you never let anyone else use. A Dio song you’d hear randomly or the diner he took you to on your first date. Then there was the emotional side, the soft glimmer in his eyes you remembered when you closed yours and the sound of his laughter you wished you’d hear again.

Things eventually got easier ‘cause it’s not like you saw Eddie often when you were together. Plus studying for an ungodly amount of hours kept you busy, distracted. And after giving yourself an appropriate time to feel everything, there was honestly no more time for heartbreak.

That is until your birthday rolled around.

When you opened your eyes late morning, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole — which in Hawkins was more than likely to happen. The last four birthdays were nothing short of perfect and now…  

The nausea followed shortly after.

Your plan was to stay in bed all day, and it was going quite well since at six o’clock that evening you were glued to the same spot, until Robin barged into your room, Steve close on her heels, with a glass of water and a poorly decorated cake. Their singing gave you a headache, but you were still grateful for their attempt to make this day end on a better note.

“Now, go get your ass dressed,” Robin orders, glancing at Steve for his rehearsed words of encouragement.

He’s wide-eyed at first, nose buried in icing, but quickly nods at Robin’s words and looks in your direction.

“Y-yes, yes! We have an evening of fun planned!” Steve exclaims after swallowing a mouth full of vanilla cake.

Your roommates, however sweet they were trying to be, failed to realise the one place you really didn’t want to spend your birthday was The Hideout, and that’s exactly where they brought you.

The Hideout, presenting its usual lurking charm from the moment you stepped inside, was the one place in Hawkins you knew guaranteed an awkward bump-in with Eddie. Or maybe a needed interaction? Seeing him in his element could possibly bring some sort of closure after three months of no contact… No. No. Seeing him would only bring back the pain you tried real hard to bury.

A stench of old man sweat mixed with spilled booze hits your senses while you hurry closely behind Robin and Steve. In the dim light, your eyes are focused on the floor below, partially because you’re trying not to slip or trip over your own two feet, but mainly ‘cause you’re fearful of catching a glimpse of a certain head of wild brown locks. You only look up when the three of you approach a table closer to the back, away from most of the noise, and are greeted with hugs from Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. 

Settling yourself on one of the chairs, you exchange pleasantries with the rest of your friends while Steve orders a round of shots for the group. They all raise a toast to your health, their cheers attracting some attention in the process, but you don’t think anything of it, starting to instead feel glad you agreed to this.

“Birthday girl isn’t allowed to pay for her own drinks, got it?” Robin addresses the group and they all nod in unison. You wanna protest, but she swats at you from across the table before the words escape your lips. Her eyes saying that you need this, your eyes saying that you’re grateful she’s your friend. I know, Robin mouths as Jonathan takes everyone’s drink order.

Every shot you take, you chase with a rum and coke. The liquid burns down your throat. Third, fourth, fifth round down. You’re feeling buzzed, happy. Most importantly, no longer thinking of the boy that would normally also be hanging out with this group — blissfully unaware that he was actually watching your every move from the other side of the bar.

Eddie hadn’t initially planned on going out tonight. After a long day of working at the garage, then band practice right after, he really just wanted to smoke and fall asleep. As he got out of the shower however, instead of jumping into bed, he reached for a clean t-shirt. He couldn’t really explain why. It was stupid to think something inside of him was urging him to come to The Hideout tonight. He was wrecked beyond belief, yet his feet carried him here.

Then he heard it. Your name, followed by a mini-eruption of woohoos.

Head snapping in the direction of the sound, Eddie’s gaze found the source of the noise and then scanned the small group until he reached your relaxed frame. Christ, he thought, palms getting clammy. To say you looked gorgeous would be a vast understatement. And to say he didn’t realise just how much he missed you until this very moment would be nothing short of the truth.

Sure, after the breakup, Eddie found it hard to get through the day-to-day. Constantly distracted, thinking about you and second guessing the decision you both made. But then he reminded himself this was for the best, convinced himself that people can have more than one great love in their life, and things got easier.

There were days he hoped he’d accidentally run into you. At the store, out for coffee, or just wandering the streets of Hawkins. No such luck. When he started working at the shop to save some extra cash, he thought maybe you’d come in with your clunk of shit car since he was always telling you to get it looked at, but again, it never happened. 

Three months passed like nothing.

Eddie would’ve never thought that today, your fucking birthday of all days, would be when he saw you next.

Cold beer in hand, he thought about walking up to the table you sat at with your mutual friends. And he was about to, but then you laughed at something Argyle said and the honey-like sound froze him in place. Clearly, you were having a good time. Eddie didn’t want to ruin that, so he opted for watching you like some fucking creep. 

Four beers later, he’s still in the same spot.

Nancy takes over the jukebox duties. Billy Idol’s White Wedding starts to play as she pulls you to your feet, an excited squeal escaping her lips when you don’t protest. Swaying your hips to the music, you feel elated. Even more so when Robin joins in, singing along as Nancy twirls around the two of you. The boys clap, grinning like idiots, and you know you’re going to remember this moment forever, or at least until you unintentionally go over your drink limit and black out.

A smile tugs at the corners of Eddie’s lips as he continues to shamelessly stare at you. Carefree, is the word he’d use now to describe you and in all honesty, he hasn’t seen you like this in a while. Then his smile falters before it really fully appears ‘cause he finds himself wishing he was the reason for your current mood. Was ending things a mistake?

Mid-song, you spin and as you do, your eyes skim the bar, passing a set of curly hair. The air hitches in your throat as you double back. Just to make sure your drunken gaze wasn’t deceiving you, you tell yourself, but the reality is much different. Please be him, please be him, please be him…

When your eyes do lock with his, your tummy burns.

The copious amount of alcohol trifling through your veins right now gives you that extra push you need to start a short strut towards your ex-boyfriend. Someone’s arm is on you, attempting to pull you back slightly, but you don’t pay attention to it. Then you hear Steve say, “let her go, she needs this.”, and you’re free to continue your journey. 

In a trance, gaze glued to Eddie’s chocolate one, you push through the people until you’re leaning against the bar he was sitting at, observing as his features turn from awe into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Eddie greets nonchalantly, as if no time has passed, as if nothing has changed between the two of you.

So you follow in his footsteps, carefully hoisting yourself up on the stool next to his, bare knee brushing against his denim-clad one. 

“Wanna order me a drink?”

Eddie smirks. “Straight to the point, as always.”

“Well, since it is my birthday, Robin said I’m not allowed to pay for my own poison,” you tell him, shrugging lightly, “So if you have a problem with that, you gotta take it up with her.”

He huffs out a laugh. 

“I’d rather not go against Buckley.” And with that he orders a shot of tequila each.

When the small glasses are in front of you, accompanied by a lime wedge, he takes your hand without asking, then licks between your thumb and index finger, doe-eyes never leaving yours. 

A shiver runs down your spine at the sudden contact and you try to play it cool, but in reality your heart is racing. Though Eddie doesn’t give you time to think about what he’s done with no warning, pouring salt in the spot he’s just salivated. He then hastily repeats the action on his own hand and pushes a shot glass in your direction. 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

The toast is short and sweet. He raises the glass in front of his face as the words escape his lips, licks the salt off his own hand (which you’re a little disappointed in, unsurprisingly already missing the sensation that was his gentle touch), and downs the liquid in one go.

You quickly follow suit, not wanting to seem like he got you all flustered. But as the two of you sit and stare at one another while sucking on the lime wedges for a little longer than normal, you realise he’s just as rattled as you are — good.

“I hate tequila,” Eddie announces, discarding the wedge.

“I don’t mind it,” you say, wiping the corners of your mouth.

His gaze drops slightly, to where your finger presses against your puffy lips, and he bites down on his own rather shamelessly. There is a brief moment of silence in which Eddie thinks back to seconds before, when his tongue caressed your soft skin. He hates himself a little ‘cause he doesn’t wanna mess with your head, but fuck did that feel good. He’d like to do it again, if not more. Is that crazy?

And while you continue to look into his eyes, the butterflies in your stomach are going wild since you know exactly what he’s thinking. The only problem is you don’t know how to tell him because there’s so much else to be said first. Three months of catching up, to be precise, but did exes even do that?

“How about we get out of here?” Eddie offers, voice nothing short of a murmur.

You nod. Of course you nod. You’d go to the end of the world if he’d ask.

Before you know it, Eddie’s hand is on the small of your back, leading you through The Hideout crowd and out the front door. You don’t say goodbye to your friends, you can apologise tomorrow for leaving without a word. Instead, you inhale the fresh air, a wobble in your step as you turn to once again look at your ex-boyfriend.

“Where do you wanna go?”

Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as close as he possibly can. He tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles. A genuine smile.

“There’s this diner not far from here,” he answers simply and your heart swells. Then once again, tenfold, as he places a kiss to your crown before whispering in your ear, “Back to where it all started, pretty girl.”.

as always, thank you for reading! pls don't hesitate to reblog & tell me what you think - ily!

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