#literally any interesting ship dipped out

[minakoaiinos]

Animating this season like you can't have the slightest bit of jest and god forbid jesting about yaoi

[chelseeebe]

crush.

a/n: hmm i wonder if you can guess what this is about? i have listened to this song an ungodly amount of times while writing this and i am literally obsessed. i rlly wanted to make this angsty n sad but eddie never gets a happy ending when i write him so decided against it hehe

no use of y/n! smut (18+) eddie is a bit of a douche but very much makes up for it in the end <3

eddie munson was trouble. but you knew that.

he was quite oddly proud of the fact his dad was in jail, facing the chair no less. having been shipped off to his uncle’s in hawkins when he first got sent down.

it was too much for his mom to juggle both him and his brother. especially as eddie was such a handful. she’d call him occasionally and they’d visit every christmas. she mostly called to tell him of his brother’s achievements. disappointed that he wasn’t academic like his big brother.

when he’d eventually graduated high school, third time lucky, he’d picked up a job at the local mechanic shop. learning from the older guys as he went.

your uncle owned the place so you’d be a regular visitor, it meant lots of fussing from his workers, something you basked in. they’d give you sneaky cigarettes and threaten to knock the head off of any guy that dared bother you. and in the summer you’d sit atop the low wall and share cold beers.

when eddie started, he’d seemed like he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in knowing anything about you. you’d assumed that he probably had a girlfriend.

not noticing how his eyes sneakily leered at your legs when you’d been turned away or how he’d try to hide his disappointment when you wouldn’t turn up.

but you watched from afar, noting his habits. when he’d go for a cigarette, long hair tied back with a green scrunchy, an artefact probably stolen from said girlfriend.

and when the summer came around and his sleeves got shorter, showcasing the jumble of tattoos on his defined arms, you were practically foaming at the mouth to get to know him.

you would never ever let him know. not unless he made the first move. and you stood by that.

then one day as summer drew to a close, bare legs swinging as you sat on the wall outside, he’d come up and stood next to you, holding out the box of marlboro reds.

‘y’want one?’ his own cigarette perched between his pink lips, one eyebrow cocked.

you silently take a cigarette, placing it in between your lips and holding your hand out for the lighter. he does one better, taking the lighter from his pocket, flickering the flame and lighting it for you.

it takes every bone in your body to stay upright and not collapse into a pile of mush. your stomach fluttering at the intimacy, his callous hands only inches from your mouth.

you’d thought about his thumbs and how perfect they’d feel running along your lips.

he leans back against the brick, cleaning his oil stained hands on some old rag, taking a long drag, blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

‘you doing anything tonight?’ he asks, squinting as the setting sun glares into his eyes, the orange glow beautifully cascading on his features.

‘hmm.. no,’ trying hard to act as casual as possible, though your heart was practically bursting from your chest.

‘my band’s playing the hideaway tonight, you should come,’ he smirks, grey smoke blowing out of his mouth with every word.

‘your band?’

‘yeah.. i play the guitar, sing a little.. we’re good i promise,’ flicking the cigarette to the pile of other butts at the entrance.

the mention of the guitar is enough to convince you, not that you needed much. filthy thoughts crowding your mind, watching as he pushes himself from the wall, standing in front of you.

‘i might come down, what time are you on?’ you ask, throwing your cigarette into the pile next to his.

‘we’re on at nine,’ he nods, beginning to walk back into the warehouse, ‘i’ll see you tonight.’

his assertiveness makes your cheeks flush, dipping your head and grinning at your lap hoping your uncle hadn’t noticed your conversation.

you do go. obviously.

making sure your skirt is appropriately rolled up, ripped fishnets adorning your legs and enough eyeliner to resemble a raccoon.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by eddie, or anyone really. the grubby old drunks sleazing around you, questionable touches and frankly inappropriate comments. eddie’s eyes stay firmly planted on you throughout, darkening as you stare back at him.

it’s no shock when you find yourself pressed against the rough back wall of the hideout, one of eddie’s hands beside your head, the other creeping underneath your skirt, mouths colliding in a sloppy kiss.

hungry for more as you cling onto his neck, his fingers skirting eerily close to your already wet cunt. you can feel him smirking against your mouth when you buck your hips in response.

‘you coming back to mine?’ he mumbles between kisses, the hand on the wall moving to caress your cheek, rough palms holding the heated skin.

you nod enthusiastically, pressing your body against his, still trapped between him and the wall. he pulls back, eyes glinting with the street lamp. pupils dilated with utter lust, thumb tracing along your swollen lips just like you’d once pictured.

the drive back to his trailer is torture, both of you too frustrated to make conversation. the aching feeling between your legs worsening when his hand reaches over, resting on your thigh. the worst part is that he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing.

soft squeezes as you press your thighs together, willing for the road to somehow shorten.

you practically jump on him the second you walk through the door, pressing him against whatever solid surface you crash into first. hands desperate to touch him, pulling the holey band shirt up and over his mop of hair.

calloused hands nipping at your thighs as they travelled beneath your skirt. leading you backwards into what you assumed was his room, his tongue making lazy contact with yours when he misjudges the placement of the door, smacking straight into the wall.

he takes this as an opportunity to swap your positions, pushing you backwards into the small room. hands gripping your ass when you stumble into the corner of the bed, tumbling backwards and bringing him down on top of you.

you’re not even properly kissing at this point, breathing heavily as he’s poised above. he pulls back, moving you up the bed with ease, arms slung around his neck.

‘you’re insane,’ he breathes, mattress dipping on either side of your head as he holds himself up, eyes wandering from yours down to your exposed chest, tits peeking out of the tiny top you’d chosen.

‘you gonna do anything? or you just gonna stare?’

he goes from incredibly stoic and admiring to an large grin, no hesitation in lifting the shirt over your head. throwing it somewhere on the cluttered floor as his lips find yours again, spare hand finding the warmth between your legs.

your fingers fiddle with his large belt buckle, rutting your hips upwards, trying to get his hand to something. anything other than just sit there. frustrated with the speed in which he was moving, he grins into your mouth, finding your desperation amusing.

‘christ you’re needy,’ ever-so-slowly hooking his fingers into the waistband of the lacy underwear you’d work just in case, pulling them down with a harsh tug.

‘i’m going home if you don’t hurry up,’ you threaten, though it was empty.

his hand taking place of yours and unhooking his own belt, ‘no you’re not,’ he laughs and you can feel the tent in his jeans rub against your now bare cunt.

the anticipation in your stomach bubbling, eager to have him inside of you. the movement of your own hips doing nothing to help as they move upwards against him, legs wrapped tight around his back.

he pulls his jeans off antagonising and slow, relishing in watching you squirm beneath him, trying to find any relief in the little he was giving you. kicking off the black skinny jeans onto the floor, peering down between your bodies.

his fingers had found their way back between your legs, teasing your sopping hole with his index finger. dipping in but never enough.

a groan rumbles from your throat, ‘please.. just- fuck,’ panting when his middle finger joins the tormenting of your cunt, absolute putty in his hands.

‘ask me nicely,’ he demands, a wide smirk already plastered on his face when you look up at him, pupils blown out and wild.

you can tell he was just as desperate as you were, but taking extra pleasure in getting you begging for him.

‘please.. please fuck me,’ you swallow, eyes closing as you feel his leaking tip circle around your slick entrance.

‘that’s better,’ he quips before pushing himself in, breath hitching in his throat as your legs clamp around him, pulling him in.

‘h-holy shit,’ he murmurs, slowly moving his hips, willing himself not to fucking come already, your whines doing him absolutely no favours.

you slide your hands from his neck to his shoulders, nails digging into the moist skin when his pace quickens. eyes drooping shut when his thumb meets your clit, drawing small circles around the sensitive nub.

the undeniable sounds of your body meeting his full the room, soft cusses flooding out of his mouth when your hips move against him, urging him to move faster.

‘jesus.. you’re so.. uh, fuck you’re so perfect,’ stammering through deep breaths, even the feel of your soft thighs around his waist were fucking him up.

he braved looking down, the vision of your cock drunk face and soft moans, pushing him towards his orgasm. your eyes fluttering when he hits the soft, spongy spot inside, thumb unforgiving around your clit.

‘right there,’ you mewl, hurtling towards your own orgasm, stomach tightening and your legs trembling with every erratic thrust, his own attempt to get you there before him.

‘oh my god,’ you whine as the coil snaps, white-hot pleasure exploding behind your eyes, clawing onto the skin of his shoulders.

his thrusts stutter as your walls clench around him, thick ropes of come painting your insides as he collapses on top of you, mouth open as he rides out his high still inside.

you finally open your eyes, running soothing hands along his back, catching your own breath. cheeks warm and painted a sweet shade of red.

eventually coming back to earth, he rolls over onto the spare side of the bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. pushing the long black hair back and out of his face.

he stays like that for a few moments, basking in his euphoria. you sit up, and reach down for your discarded shirt, holding it to your bare chest.

he peeks over, ‘you’re going?’ sounding almost disappointed.

you look back over your shoulder at him and shrug, wasn’t that what he wanted? most men would. in fact, they’d dress you themselves if it would get you out of there quicker.

‘you can stay y’know.. was kinda hoping we’d do that again like, at least twice,’ smirking as his fingers toy with the hem of your skirt.

‘okay,’ lips twitching into a smile, falling back onto the bed when his hand tugs on your hip, pulling you into his warm chest.

-

thus started whatever the hell it was you had going on now. not quite a relationship but enough to be spending half of your time with him. both at the shop and not. many nights spent watching corroded coffin, an unholy amount of black sabbath covers.

you come to learn that eddie regards ozzy osbourne as a hero. someone he tries to style his entire life around. it pisses you off no end when he jumps off the tiny stage at the hideout and onto a crowd of old drunks.

scalding him afterwards for being so stupid because one day they won’t catch him.

‘darling, one day the crowd’ll be so big, you won’t have to worry about it,’ he laughed, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

it’s not long before everyone in the garage figures out exactly what’s going on. your uncle expressing his clear disdain for the new relationship. threatening a passive eddie with a dull screwdriver the second he clocks on.

‘i’m telling you now, that i will kill you if i have to.’

the sight alone makes you collapse into a fit of laughter, eddie’s eyes wide with his hands up in defeat. chuckling himself when your uncle walks away.

one night, you’re sat waiting for eddie to finish fucking about with some motorcycle. your uncle tapping his foot impatiently.

‘i can lock up if you wanna go home,’ you offer, leaning against the uncomfortable metal desk.

‘yeah i do,’ throwing the heavy keys at you, glaring over to eddie, ‘no funny business, and i mean it.’

you smile, placing the keys on the desk next to you and watching as eddie emerges from beneath the bike, hiding his mischievous grin by biting down onto his bottom lip.

‘don’t you fucking dare,’ he warns, pointing at eddie as he walks towards his own car, shaking his head.

‘yessir,’ eddie calls after him, receiving an annoyed honk in response as he hightails out of there.

so when you’re sat atop the old, dusty cadillac just mere minutes later with your legs wrapped around his waist, you giggle into eddie’s mouth.

‘what’s funny?’ he mumbles, hand travelling down your waist, awfully close to the waistband of your jeans.

‘he’s serious, y’know?’ placing your hand on top of his, stopping it from going any further.

‘good,’ his lips sloppily connecting your yours, quickly swapping the position of your hands so his is perched on top, moving both of them down and past your waistband.

‘you’ll get us both killed,’ gasping as he makes your hand brush against your already soaked hole, feeling his grin in the crook of your neck.

‘he’s not gonna find out,’ he utters, softly sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

you go to protest but you’re taken into shock when one of his fingers enters the slick hole, your hand flying out from beneath his to clutch onto the back of his neck.

‘you want me to stop?’ he teases, moving his finger antagonisingly slow, thumb tapping on your clit.

you shake your head no, leaning back and shifting your hips forward along the hood of the dusty car, the metal creaking beneath you.

instinctively throwing your head back when he slides in another finger, the other hand digging into your waist, sure enough to leave a bruise in the morning.

‘holy shit,’ you breathe, feeling his growing erection brush against your thigh, ‘fuck me,’ you beg, immediately going against everything you’d said earlier.

‘huh? what was that?’

your hips writhe against his fingers, ‘fuck me,’ pleading for more than he was currently giving.

he pulls his hand from your jeans, smirking when he goes back in to kiss you, yanking your jeans and panties down around your thighs in one fell swoop.

‘now who’s the one begging for it?’ he groans, struggling with his own jeans, eager to disgrace the poor rusty old car.

the bonnet makes a loud clunking sound from underneath and you seemingly sink into the metal. you and eddie stare at each other, wide-eyed and frankly terrified. neither of you brave enough to look at the inevitable dent your ass had just made.

collapsing into a fit of giggles when eddie lifts your body, mumbling a chorus of shits and fucks, preparing to lose his life to the hands of your pissed off uncle.

-

‘why the fuck do you have a gun?’ you screech, holding onto the metal door of the locker for stability.

you’d only gone in there in search of his cigarettes, not expecting to find a fucking glock chilling in his tattered old rucksack.

he rushes over, dropping the spanner with a loud clatter, ‘hey hey.. shh, why are you going through my bag?’ his face screwed up as you turn to face him, stern faced.

‘i’ll ask you again, why do you have a fucking gun, eddie?’ wildly throwing your hands about, trying to amplify your point.

his large hand grabs wraps around your wrists, pulling them down out of his face, ‘it’s not mine.. i’m just.. holding it for a friend,’ he peeks around the door, making sure nobody had heard your screaming.

after meeting his friends, you’re sure it’s true. a group of dope slingers who had no regard for their lives, or anyone else’s for that matter.

‘so you thought bringing it to work was a good idea?’ you fume, trying to wriggle your arms free from his grasp.

‘i forgot it was in there, look, it’s not mine, alright? it’s going back tomorrow,’ he looks angry, brows knitted together, jaw tense.

you already worried about him enough. sometimes he’d go m.i.a. for a few hours and you just knew he was somewhere chasing after that group of pricks. he’d sworn to you that he’d never touched that shit, sticking to strictly weed and occasional ketamine.

‘he’ll fucking kill you if you bring that shit here,’ referencing your uncle who was only in the other part of the garage. your hands still trapped in his grip.

‘i forgot,’ he huffs, anger easing as you soften your gaze, realising that your frustration wasn’t so much with him, ‘i’m sorry, alright? it’s not mine- i don’t think it’s even been used.’

you jut out your bottom lip, exhaling sharply from your nose, ‘i don’t care.. just, just don’t bring all that in here.. my uncle’s a good man- i don’t want him involved in your shit.’

‘i know,’ he nods, ‘i know, i’m sorry.. yeah? i promise it’s gone tomorrow,’ eyes searching your face for any sign of forgiveness.

‘okay.. whatever,’ you blink up at him, ‘you can let go of me now.’

‘kiss me and i’ll think about it,’ his frown quickly turning into a smirk.

‘get away from me, you stink,’ faking disgust as you turn your head to the side, trying to conceal your own smile creeping onto your face.

‘shut up,’ he mutters, attacking your exposed neck with a million kisses, eliciting a loud shriek as he pushes you back into the lockers, the metal banging as your back collides with it.

‘not in the fucking garage,’ your uncle rounds the corner, pissed that he’d been subjecting to such a sight.

eddie lets go immediately, wiping his sweaty forehead, unknowingly smearing black shit all over the skin. you lean back against the locker, apologising to your uncle with your eyes.

he aggressively tosses his rag at eddie, ‘clean yourself up, you look like a fuckin’ idiot,’ before getting back to tinkering with some car.

-

eddie had somewhat always regarded himself as a hero. needing to constantly save people, throw his weight around when necessary. or completely unnecessarily, as you’d see it.

you usually rolled your eyes and pulled him away. but tonight it hadn’t worked.

and he’d got his ass absolutely handed to him by a group of men in some new bar you were trying. one of them had come up to you, a little drunk and far too handsy. nothing you couldn’t handle on your own.

but eddie had had to get involved, shoving the drunk backwards into the bar, crashing into the rest of his pals gathered around.

so one of them threw a punch, connecting with his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. he’d tried to hold his own, pushing you away in the middle of the chaos.

you’d had to step in the middle when the men had circled around him on the floor, all leather jackets and raging testosterone levels. rather pathetic.

you stayed silent for the entire walk back to his trailer. eddie trailing along, clutching his already bruised cheek.

‘i’m sorry,’ he calls from a few paces behind, groaning as he walked. you ignored it, pressing on until you reached the trailer park.

you stand behind as he unlocks the door, sulking because of his impulsive actions. well deserved, you thought.

as soon as you’re inside, he turns to face you, ‘can you just speak to me?’ pouting, putting on his sickening puppy dog eyes.

you just want to rip his head from his shoulders, it wasn’t like he used his brain much anyway. you shove his chest, ‘sit down.’

he complies, perching on the sofa and still feeling sorry for himself as you grabbed the antiseptic and the cotton pads from the bathroom. walking back into the room with a worthy scowl on your lips.

you sit next to him, slightly too harsh as you turn his face towards you. dousing the cotton wool in the smelly liquid, pressing it to his cheek.

sucking the air in between his teeth and gripping onto the soft sofa, ‘jesus fuck,’ he curses, but stays sat still, too scared of what you’d do if he dared move.

‘serves you right,’ you hiss, dabbing the cotton on the wound, ‘i owe you a fucking black eye for that shit.. i’ve told you, i don’t need you to start throwing fists for me.’

he places his hand on your arm, eyes sad as they gaze up at you, ‘i know.. but he was fuckin-,’ stopping whatever he was about to say when your eyes meet his, glaring at him.

‘yeah, he was a creep.. but i can handle it, eddie,’ running your finger over his split lip, garnering a wince from eddie.

‘yeah,’ admitting defeat with a soft squeeze of your arm, ‘i’m sorry,’ eyes glimmering with hope when your face softens, not able to stay mad at him for very long.

‘mhm,’ tossing the now-red cotton ball onto the small coffee table, ‘does it hurt?’ locking eyes with him once more.

‘only a little.’

you pause briefly, ‘thank you.. for protecting my honour or whatever, but i can handle that shit without you.’

he doesn’t reply verbally, but his eyes glint, lips curling into a small smile. he doesn’t need to say it. you know exactly what that look means. unspoken but you can feel it so deeply.

it’s exactly why you felt so sick watching him essentially get jumped. why your heart stang when he hadn’t got back up.

‘i know you can,’ breaking the silence, fingers still curled around your arm.

you exhale, giving in completely, ‘well, at least you look super tough now.,’

‘y’think so?’

‘mhm, sexy too,’ once again tracing over the small cut on his lip, pulling his lip down with your thumb.

his eyes glisten with infatuation, the simple action already driving him crazy. gazing at you through long eyelashes and praying to god you’d always be here to clean his wounds.

-

you hadn’t realised you’d dozed off to sleep until the creaking of the trailer door jolts you awake. you’d got tired of waiting for eddie, who had promised to be back before eleven. telling you it’d be fine to just go straight to his, wayne wouldn’t mind.

the dusty alarm clock flashed 3:30, hours after he’d told you he’d be there.

the floorboards creak and there’s hushed whispers from the living room that you can just about vaguely make out as something along the lines of, ‘shit, sorry.’

‘what the hell are you doin’? she’s been in there waiting for you all fuckin’ night.’

‘i know.. sorry for waking you uncle wayne, night.’

you close your eyes again before eddie’s bedroom door opens and he creeps into the room. you brace, waiting to see if he’ll acknowledge your presence.

‘you awake?’ he calls out quietly, shimmying out of his denim jacket.

‘yep.’

‘i’m sorry i’m late.. i got caught up,’ you can hear him rustling about, stepping around the shit on his floor to get to the bed.

he sits on the few inches of mattress between you and the edge, reaching his arm out to find your body resting his hand on your exposed arm.

‘where the fuck have you been?’ you glower at him, his shitty plastic blinds letting in just enough of the bright moon to illuminate his face.

‘i was with rick.. i didn’t realise what time it was,’ kicking his shoes off onto the old carpet.

‘don’t lie to me eddie.’

he sighs and you can see his eyes drop, knowing he’d already been caught out, anything he tried to say now was futile.

‘alright,’ thumb stroking your goosebump filled arm, trying to keep you docile enough to tell you the full story, ‘promise you won’t get mad?’

you brace, waiting for the horrible truth of how he’d been with some girl, that this was pointless and you should get the fuck out of his bed. you nod, perhaps not really meaning it.

‘right..’ he bites down on his bottom lip, shuffling to face you, ‘rick uh, got into some shit, needed some cash to get out of it.. you really can’t get mad, alright?’

‘i won’t, just tell me,’ reaching out to latch your finger into the silver chain hanging from his belt loop, now knowing that at least this had fuck all to do with you.

he swallows, finding your eyes in the darkness, ‘we robbed that corner store down on seventh.. it was a one time thing, yeah? these people he was fucking with are bad news, we had to,’ he scrabbles to justify himself to you.

‘what?’

‘i said you can’t get mad.’

‘i’m not mad.. is that what that fucking gun was for?’

‘no- well, i dunno.. he had it on him but he didn’t use it, promise,’ hand sliding up your arm to caress your cheek.

‘how much did he need? jesus christ eds, i wish you’d just told me,’ you pout, picturing him in some crazy western-style shootout in the tiny corner store.

‘i know, i’m sorry.. i didn’t want you getting involved, it’s done now, no more,’ thumb pressed against your temple drawing small lines on your skin.

‘okay,’ you nod, not quite believing him but having to suffice with what he was giving. you didn’t like to think about the shit he got up to with rick, better left in the dark for the sake of your sanity.

‘y’gonna let me in? s’fucking freezing out here.’

you oblige, shuffling across the bed and lifting the blanket for him to crawl under. he quickly gets out of his jeans, throwing his t-shirt somewhere on the ground before getting under the blanket.

his cold arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. you shiver under his touch, sighing when your head touches his skin.

‘m’sorry,’ he mumbles into the top of your hair, ‘i’m all yours tomorrow.’

you mutter a small, ‘good,’ nestling into his hold, slowly dropping off to sleep, comforted by his warm arms.

-

eddie was absolutely furious. you hadn’t even meant to say it, at least not in the way it had came out.

he was being a dick again, showing off at the bar after you’d already told him you wanted to go home. but he wasn’t listening. and ended up with the swollen cheek to show for it.

‘how many times do i have to tell you that you can’t just fucking fight people because they were rude to you once?’ you huff, gripping onto the steering wheel.

‘i’m sorry, okay? you could’ve gone home.. i would’ve been fine on my own,’ he counters, rubbing his sore cheek, slumped down in the passenger seat.

you scoff, ‘yeah, looked like it,’ rolling your eyes as you’d had to pull him off of the floor once more.

‘jesus christ, it’s not that deep, i’m alive.. you’re alive, just leave it,’ fed up, with his ego slightly bruised, he didn’t mean to snap but tonight had pissed him off too.

‘you’re gonna end up dead.. or just like your dad, is that what you want?’ you’d immediately regretted it, the words sounded foreign leaving your mouth.

‘is that what you think i am? see, you think you know me, know my dad.. but you haven’t got the slightest idea what it’s like,’ he spits back, face screwed up in frustration.

‘i didn’t- i didn’t mean it like that,’ you plead, sneaking brief looks at his aggravated face.

‘d’ya know what? let me out here, i’ll walk.’

‘eddie.. i’m sorry please ju-,’

‘let me out of this fucking car,’ he hisses, already pushed past his limit.

you oblige, pulling over on the dark road. you weren’t far from the trailer park but it’d be at least a twenty minute walk and it was pitch black.

‘it’s dark, will you be okay?’ but you’re cut off with a slam of the door, he’s already stormed off into the woods before you can even think about locking the doors and trapping him inside.

you’d honestly thought he wasn’t being serious. an empty threat. biting down onto your bottom lip, internally debating whether to go out into the woods and drag him back.

the thing is, eddie knew the woods, had used them as a shortcut to get home for years, whereas you’d merely driven past on the way to his. there was no use in going out there with no flashlight and ending up lost.

so you turn the car around, driving towards your own house for once. you’d see him at the garage tomorrow. he’d have calmed down and you can weasel your way back into his good books.

except, he doesn’t turn up for work the next day.

your stomach flips when your uncle comes banging around the corner expecting eddie to be trailing behind.

‘where is he?’

‘what? he’s not here? i don’t- i don’t know, we uh,’ you stop yourself, ‘i stayed at home last night.. i thought he’d be here,’ mind racing, already thinking of what terrible things could’ve happened in those creepy woods.

‘he hasn’t turned up, y’wanna tell him that if he’s sick i need a phone call, something.. he doesn’t get off just because you two are messin’ about,’ he points his blackened finger at you, walking back into the garage shaking his head.

you don’t even make it fully into the warehouse, turning on your heel back to your old car and speeding out of there. you’d check the trailer first and then make the treacherous journey through the woods.

when you drive up the gravel, you can see his van isn’t parked outside in it’s usual spot. okay, maybe he went out. or was just late to work. at least you know he’d made it back and wasn’t still in the woods somewhere.

you still knock on the grimy door, knowing that wayne would probably just be waking up.

the door swings open and he looks positively fuming until he sees it’s you, ‘oh, y’alright doll? early isn’t it?’

‘hey wayne, is eddie home? he didn’t turn up for work so i’m just.. wondering if he’s okay..’ you swallow loudly, knowing damn well he wasn’t in there.

‘no.. no he went out last night, seemed pretty pissed off so i didn’t bother to ask- you okay? y’look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ he looks genuinely concerned, holding onto the plastic rim of the door.

‘we had an argument and he stormed off,’ tears welling in your eyes.

‘yeah i figured, i’m sure he’s alright.. sometimes he just needs to calm down for a while, don’t let it worry you,’ he adds, the sentiment was nice but your heart was thudding.

you weren’t even officially together for fuck sake. but you at least knew how you felt about him and had a small inclination that he felt similarly. maybe you’d fucked it for good. he had no real loyalties to you, what was stopping him from running off and never speaking to you again.

‘okay,’ you nod, blinking rapidly so to hide your tears, ‘can you please tell him to call me if, or when he gets back?’

‘sure thing sweets, i’ll see you later,’ he waves before closing the door.

you traipse off back to your car, thinking of a list of places he could possibly be. a handful of them being immediately crossed off as it was the middle of the morning.

-

it’s almost evening before you think to check rick’s house. having driven around all day looking at his usual spots for him, asking everyone if he’d been there or if they knew where he could be.

it was only at the hideout where one of the girls behind the bar suggests rick’s with a chuckle.

eddie had stopped by rick’s before, you’d stayed in the van though and he’d disappear inside before emerging with a ton of weed and a shit eating grin on his face.

you can spot his van the second you round the corner. feeling the relief wash over you the second you know he’s actually still alive and in hawkins. then the feeling of guilt is replaced by rage. annoyed that you’d driven the entirety of this shithole town and he’d just been here getting high the entire time.

there’s a small second in which you debate if going up and banging on the door was actually a good idea or if it’d just cause more problems.

you do it anyway, parking next to his van and walking up the wooden steps to the massive house. a muffled thumping of music gets louder as you approach. they probably wouldn’t even hear you.

but you knock, waiting patiently for someone, hopefully eddie, to answer.

the door opens, revealing a skinny, tousled man who you’d never seen before, he stares at you, mouth open for what feels like minutes.

‘is eddie in there?’ you ask, staring back at the strange man.

‘yeah, two seconds,’ he mumbles before closing the door, hopefully going to get the man. you couldn’t be sure he even knew what you said.

the door opens again a few moments later, looking rather disheveled, eyes wild and still in the same clothes he’d skulked off in last night. he stinks of a mixture between booze and weed, hair hanging limp around his face.

‘woah hey, what are you doing here?’ sounding genuinely confused, not the reaction you’d imagined.

‘well, you didn’t show up for work.. i wanted to know if you were alright,’ you shrug, suddenly feeling stupid for even stalking him this badly.

‘shit, yeah.. i was s’posed to call, i forgot,’ he steps out onto the porch, closing the door round behind him, ‘you came all the way out here to find me?’

‘yeah,’ you say quietly, just realising how much of a crazy bitch you must seem.

‘eddie!’ a female voice calls from inside the house. you look between him and the door as she peers round the door, a pretty girl, someone else you’d never seen before.

your heart sinks.

‘oh shit.. sorry,’ she grimaces, ‘i just wanted to know if you were coming back in?’

‘just give me two minutes, alright?’ he glares at her as she holds her hand up in apology before going back into the house.

that blind rage you’d felt pulling up the house reappears and you’d love to reach across and slap his now-very purple cheek.

‘that’s not- that wasn’t what you think it was,’ he pleads, noticing your clenched jaw and balled up fist.

‘yeah i’m sure it wasn’t,’ you add sarcastically, ‘i can see that you’re perfectly fine so i’m gonna go ahead and leave, you have fun,’ heart beating out of your chest as you turn around and walk down the wooden steps.

he’s already hot on your tail, ‘can you just- baby listen to me,’ calling out from a few paces behind.

‘get fucked,’ you spit, trying to get into your car before he could reach you.

he’s grabbing at your arm the second the cars unlocked, ‘listen to me,’ you’re spun around to face him before you can even register what’s going on.

‘what? what are you gonna say? you don’t owe me anything, eddie.. you can do whatever you want,’ your throat burning from the untruthful words.

‘i haven’t-,’ he sighs, collecting himself before continuing, ‘i wanted to piss you off a little, so i came here and then me and rick got into some shit and i lost track of time, i’m sorry,’ fingers beginning to dig into your arm, afraid that if he loosened his grip you’d run away.

‘so who’s your little girlfriend?’ sounding far more jealous than you’d perhaps liked.

‘that’s fucking rick’s girlfriend, i don’t even know her name,’ he pleads, his bottom lip jutted out in his best puppy dog impression.

you swallow, hardly believing him, ‘right, even if that was true, it wouldn’t matter.. you’re single, i’m single, you can do whatever you want,’ shaking your arm as a last ditch attempt to get him off of you and get away.

his face falls, he’d fucked up before, sure. but not to the extent where you wouldn’t be kissing all over him moments after he apologised. or where you’d outwardly expressed your lack of an official title.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware that you weren’t exactly official. he just always assumed that there was an understanding that you two were together, but not really.

‘you’re not serious? i fucked up, i know. but i haven’t fucked her- or, or anyone else for that matter.’

his fingers loosen and you take that as your opportunity to yank your arm away, opening the car door and getting halfway in when his hand slams onto the metal, stopping you from closing the it.

‘get off of my car,’ you glare, your hand gripping the handle as you argue with him.

‘i’m trying to talk to you, you won’t even give me that?’ he begs, knuckles white as he’s losing the battle against the door.

‘i have nothing to say to you,’ you spit, using your other hand to gain leverage, he relents and you slam the door shut. shoving the key into the ignition before speeding off out of the long driveway.

eddie stands there gormless for a minute. staring as your car disappears into the distance. he kicks his boot into a pile of leaves, cursing as the front door opens and rick peers round having heard the entire argument from his front room.

he argues against getting into his van and chasing after you but he’s still well over the limit and you’d only be more pissed off if you knew.

-

you must’ve passed out at some point, exhausted from the rage and pain of it all. not even bothering to crawl under your blanket, just in a heap on one side of your bed.

the window slides open, forcing you out of your slumber. a string of curses come from the other side of your room and then a small thud as whichever crazy psychopath makes their way into your room.

you bolt upright, eyes adjusting to the dark room. just about making out the silhouette of the man. the undeniable curly hair making it rather easy to decipher who it is.

‘shit,’ he mumbles, feeling his way through the room towards your bed, tripping on something on the floor, he hadn’t noticed you sit up.

you switch the lamp on, squinting as the light fills the room. looking like a deer in headlights as he pauses, frozen as you glare over at him.

‘what the fuck are you doing?’ you hush, knowing your dad was definitely fast asleep just down the hall.

‘i didn’t wanna wake your dad up,’ he looks down at the floor to see what was caught around his foot and then back at you, ‘i need to-,’ he looks down again, realising exactly what he’d tripped over, ‘is that my fucking shirt?’ he picks the torn up piece of fabric off of his boot.

you’d hacked at the metallica shirt with a pair of rusty scissors, now in multiple pieces strewn across your floor. the scissors dumped somewhere next to your bed.

‘you cut up my shirt?’ he asks, bewildered, the black cotton just dangling from his fingers as he walks over to the bed.

‘no,’ a blatant lie, ‘the dog ate it,’ shrugging innocently.

he’s in disbelief but his lips twitch, turning into a smirk, dropping what was left of his shirt back onto the floor, ‘you’re fucking crazy, you know that?’ now towering over you beside the bed.

‘you’re a fucking asshole, you know that?’ you refute, still so infuriated with him.

‘yeah, i do,’ he sits on the empty half of your bed, ‘that’s why i’m here,’ eyes full of hope, the exact opposite to how you’d left him just hours prior.

‘you’re here to tell me that you’re an asshole? could’ve saved yourself a trip, i’m already well aware of that.’

‘are you gonna shut up and listen to me?’

you scowl at him but keep your mouth shut, nodding to get him to carry on.

‘i’m here because i- hm,’ he tenses, moving up the bed, his hands cupping both of your cheeks, needing your full attention, ‘because i fucking love you, yeah?’

his brown eyes search your face for a response when you don’t answer, hands slowly releasing their grip on your skin. maybe it was too little too late, had he fucked any chance at making things right?

you take a minute to read his face, trying to determine if he was just trying to weasel his way back into the comfortable position he was in with you.

when his face rightly falls due to your lack of an answer, you finally croak out a small, ‘you do?’

his hands squeeze the fat on your cheeks, relieved to hear something come out of your mouth, ‘of course i do,’ he looks slightly offended that you’d even question the legitimacy of what he’d said.

so you lunge forward, crashing your lips to his, grinning against his cheek as your lips connect in a chaotic kiss. his body falling backwards onto the mattress as your torso collides with his, holding himself up with one hand.

‘holy fuck,’ he mutters into your mouth, clinging onto your jaw for some stability.

you pull away, eyes glimmering as you gaze up at him, ‘i love you too,’ twisting your face into a satisfied smile.

uncaring if your dad could hear, forcing him backwards onto your mattress, clambering atop, your lips hazily connecting with his again.

[oscconfessions]

for what calposa said

I actually really REALLY want to get involved in the OSC . I've grew up with Object Shows as my interest , drawn my heart out and let the OSC admire my art/writing , yet the moment that I dip my toes in the water I just see how terrifying and judgmental the OSC really is .

Nearly every person [ NOT EVERYONE. JUST A PATTERN I'VE NOTICED ] disguises themselves as someone open-minded and accepting , and then you start talking to them and they're really not like that . They're actually extremely closed-minded and dramatic over a canon.

I would love to meet more people in the OSC and actually SOCIALIZE with new people , but damn I'm afraid of being BITTEN once I step foot in that closure .

Let's make something clear:

I do not WANT to hate the OSC. But it's sad that I do.

- The teens bully the literal children in the OSC instead of protecting them.

- They do not want to see those who are victims/accused recover, they just want to talk about it because they love to feel a part of things. That is a toxic community.

- Headcanons/ships (moreso headcanons) are mistaken for canons constantly and people immaturely throw tantrums when their headcanon is debunked(? ... or just not included).

- The teens/kids threaten the bigger people in the OSC. For example, Adam Katz when he was forced to private his instagram due to people drawing preposterous conclusions . And they BARELY get ANY apology for being harassed unjustly.

Sorry for the rant. And I want to give a quick THANK YOU to the mods of this blog, having to tolerate the OSC. I like to think that this blog is a stepping stone when it comes to bettering the OSC because we get to hear things and address things without a conversation having to be started prior. Thank you for making this blog. We appreciate you ^^

<3 !!!! tysm anon ;w; - 🗄️

[abyssalzones]

reading thru ur posts about the BoB is like. making me SLIGHTLY less afraid to read it. i have it but havent cracked it open amd im very interested to see your full review though! At the same time im sooooo Fully Afraid of seeing stupid takes from the fandom abt the book 🥹 ppl do not know how to act

yeah -_- I'm glad it's made you less afraid, because I found it to personally be a very cathartic read after enduring the brunt of it (which I will elaborate on... soon...) and I would love for more likeminded Gravity Falls fans to read it as well so I can see what they think. And... yeah, that's largely because, likewise, I don't trust a good chunk of the takes from people I'm seeing right now. I dipped into the tag for about 15 seconds and had to leave.

I suppose most of all I just don't understand how we all read the same book if I'm seeing so many people reducing the core message of the story to... shipping fuel? and I've seen people acknowledge that it's supposed to read that way, and to some extent I actually do agree!- but in the sense that ford and bill's relationship is, uh, unquestionably abusive. not "toxic", but like, maybe one of the realest depictions of what it's like being manipulated and living with the shame of intimate partner abuse that I've... ever seen. You could totally counter that statement by saying I haven't seen enough TV shows or whatever but I don't know, it meant a lot to me.

So I'm right there with you, basically. It's very odd and alarming how people approach these things when it is literally the most cut and dry shit ever and then go "but it's canonnn" when you get kind of weirded out about how their immediate instinct is to draw them being cutesy together without any deeper thought. It just reads as very tasteless.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)

But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just

The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??

The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.

And the second thing that tipped me off was this:

When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.

From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).

But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).

This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.

Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖

[entishramblings]

Fuck the Forbidden Pt. 2

[Boromir/F!MermaidReader]

PART 1 | PART 3 — coming soon

Fuck the Forbidden: FTF LINK MASTERLIST

A.N: my apologies for taking so much time to update: graduate school is a tornado, plus getting sick and the craziness of holidays season didn’t help. Anyways, thank you for your patience and your continuous support! I literally read all your comment in order to inspire me to write again!

Request: none

Pairing: Boromir X Fem!MermaidReader

Summary: The Reader is a Mermaid and witnessed a shipwreck. She becomes interested in human life—particularly one human: Boromir.

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the mermaids of middle earth is not canon. also I tried my best with arda water/river geography plz don’t come at me���it’s not one of my finer subjects :/

Word Count: 5.7k — listen, yes, I STILL have a problem

Warnings: depression, drowning, ptsd, alcoholism, angst, comfort, fluff, stalking (idk how to make that last one sound less creepy. you’re just gonna have to read it).

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The following day, (Y/N) waited in the depths of the Anduin River by the entrance of the Minas Tirith castle. Sure enough, the captain, decorated in silver, came out upon his steed. Though he did not have the cheer he normally held—despite his recent struggles—he seemed….different. (Y/N) had hoped that he didn't remember what he saw under the lake. Maybe he figured he was too drunk and his mind was playing tricks on him? Maybe he would forget it all together? However, that fearful look in his eyes when he glanced at the river told her otherwise. It appeared Faramir failed to convince his brother that the mer-folk were just a myth.

Boromir deviated from his routine as well. He did not go to the market for the breakfast that he seemed to love. No, no. Instead he went out towards the edge of the city–towards the docks. And (Y/N) went with him. He passed his horse off to another and walked upon the wood, passing ship and boat, until he came upon a small fishing vessel. (Y/N) swam around it and took to the surface upon its side, far enough to not be spotted, but close enough to see and hear.

“Iwar,” Boromir called out. “You there?”

“Oi!” the old man replied, emerging from the sails. “What can I do for yer?”

“You have a moment?”

“For ye? Of course I do, lad. What is this about?” Iwar stated, squinting in the sun.

Boromir huffed, and pulled something from his pocket. He lightly tossed it to the older fellow. “What do you make of this?”

Iwar frowned, holding the whale up before his face by the string Boromir had used to make it into a necklace. “Where’d ye get it?”

“In a pond. One that connects to the Anduin River.”

Iwar sent him a strange look. “Do ye know what this is made out of?”

Boromir shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s bone, Boromir,” he replied tentatively.

At this, the captain’s lips parted. “Bone?”

Iwar tossed the whale carving back to him. “Aye, couldn't tell ye what it came from. Whittled too much away for that. Ye said yer got it from a pond?”

He nodded, swallowing dryly.

“Could’ve washed up from the currents.” Iwar stated, nonchalantly, returning to the tasks of his sail. “Some trinket someone lost to the sea.”

Boromir dipped his head, his anxiety present as he fiddled with the whale.

Iwar glanced at him. “Something else, boy?”

Boromir inhaled slowly. “Iwar, do you–do you really believe those tales of the sea-folk?”

The old man sent a weary look at the captain as he tied off one of the ropes upon the fabric. “Aye. Saw one of em’ when I was just a lad. Nearly lost my life.”

Boromir focused his gaze upon Iwar. “I think–I think I saw one last night.”

At this, the older man froze. Slowly, he turned his full attention to the captain, dread slipping from his face.

Still, Boromir continued, trying to justify his sighting. ‘Though, I don't know. I was very drunk. Had a couple ales too many. My mind could’ve—”

“You were out on the sea last night?” Iwar interrupted, confused.

Boromir shook his head.

“The shore then? Never heard of em’ venturing so close.”

Boromir released a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, I was in the pond by the Minas Tirith castle.”

Iwar’s form stiffened as he walked toward the captain. He nodded at the bone carving in Boromir’s hand as he spoke in a tone that held so much anxiety that it radiated through the air around him. “The same pond where ye found that?”

“Yes.”

Iwar’s eyes widened wildly. “I’d tell ye what, lad. Ye have been marked by em.’ And that—” he dipped his head at the whale once more. “—I reckon that's human bone.”

Blood drained from Boromir’s face, replaced with sheer panic. His fingers clumsily grappled with the carving, uncertain of how to handle it. Reluctant to make direct contact, he hesitated before settling on gripping the string, allowing the whale to dangle. Disgust etched across his brow.

“I’d get out while ye can. Stay away from the sea waters, boy.” Iwar warned.

….

That night, Boromir didn't go to the pool of water by the white walls—nor the following night. He, quite frankly, didn't go near the water at all. He stayed far from the beaches and from the Anduin River. He took longer paths to where he needed to go in order to avoid such circumstances that put him near what Iwar had described to live in the sea.

And this—all this broke (Y/N)’s heart. It stirred up a tumult of emotions—sadness, anger, fear, and frustration. Therefore, on the third day, she sought solace in a secluded nook along the Bay of Belfas. Hoisting herself onto a warm rock, she sat, enveloped in her misery. Her once-vivid fantasies of the land-people and Boromir now dissolved into sorrow and regret. What lingered was the haunting image of Boromir's disdainful expression when Iwar speculated that her gift was crafted from human bone. Any mer-folk would be delighted to receive such a heartfelt gesture! But Boromir wasn't of the sea, now was he.

(Y/N) stayed upon the rock for hours, hoping the sun would soak up her melancholy mood. However, that is not what the golden beams absorbed. Her skin dried, her hair lightened and billowed freely, and the scales on her tail lacked the moisture they once held. It was at that moment discomfort struck. Excruciating, searing pain surged through her tail, a relentless agony that prompted a deep cry from her lips. Every nerve seemed to flare with an intense, burning sensation, rendering her nearly paralyzed by the sheer intensity of the pain. She couldn't move, only shake and claw at the rock she perched upon. It felt like hours as she laid there, praying to the gods to make it end. And when it did, she instinctively reached for her scales. However, to her surprise, her hand met no such thing; instead, flesh had replaced the once-familiar tail.

(Y/N) gasped.

Her father had said…

He had tested them all…

None had the gift….

He lied.

Emotions swirled around her naked form as she stared at the strange extension that replaced her glimmering scales—legs. Anger, irritation, sadness, regret, frustration, excitement all ran through her blood.

Slowly, she stood. As she took a wobbly step upon the rock, a loud, breathy giggle escaped her lips.

Was this a dream?

(Y/N) took another uncertain step, and another, and another—until she stumbled, her hand reaching out to break her fall. However, a splash came from that, for her palm struck where water had gathered in a dip upon the rock.

Immediately, she felt it.

Her skin tingled, then burned and stung, stretching and pulling in a painful dance. (Y/N) cried out as the pain intensified. With scales attempting to form on her dry legs, the tugging became excruciating once more—tears streamed from her eyes as she desperately scrambled towards the water.

Her form slipped and rolled, right off the rock and into the ocean.

Immediate relief enveloped her. Scales continued to knit together without a hint of pain. The water soothed her. It coated the soreness into nonexistence.

(Y/N) allowed her form to sink, adjusting.

There she floated, letting her body and mind adjust to what had just happened.

It was then when one of the turmoiling emotions overtook the rest of them. It coursed through her gills and surged through her veins.

How dare he…

With a decisive flick of her tail, she propelled herself toward her father's palace.

The anger granted her remarkable speed, causing other merfolk to whip their heads around in confusion as she barreled past them.

She swam directly to the grand chamber, where she anticipated her father perched upon his throne, and busted the door open with her tail.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” she screamed at him.

Heads turned instantly—her father’s, her sisters’, the guards’.

“HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME, FATHER. HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL ME I HAD THE GIFT?!”

Her father rose, signaling the guards to leave. They swam away quickly, avoiding the impending wrath of the sea's king and his children.

“You lied straight to my face,” (Y/N) stated.

“(Y/N), what are you talking about?” Anahita interjected, appalled by her sister’s tone.

Mareena added to her statement. “That is no way to speak to our father!”

(Y/N)'s tail flicked with irritation as she focused her gaze on the man before her. “I have the gift to walk among the land-folk.”

Una gasped. Seria’s mouth dropped open. Rana’s eyes widened. Nerida’s brows shot upwards.

Their father swam towards (Y/N). “You went to the land?!” he growled. “It is forbidden.”

“I DID NOT GO ONTO THE LAND!” She snapped back. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again. “I was letting the sun warm me upon a rock when it happened—the tingling, the splitting, the pain.”

“You went to the surface—”

“How dare you not tell me, Father!”

“I DID NOT TELL YOU BECAUSE OF THIS!” He yelled. “Because I knew the minute you would figure it out, you would want to test out your new form. You would put us all in danger.”

“YOU HAVE PUT ME IN DANGER. YOU HAVE MASKED YOUR PROTECTION IN LIES THAT HAVE ONLY CAUSED ME PAIN. HOW DARE YOU!” (Y/N) retorted.

With that, (Y/N) swam away. She twisted through the reefs and the grass. She slipped through the schools of fish and their bubbles. She slithered through the rocks and caves. She did so until she was back in the Anduin River, where the lively markets and the hustle of people's households awaited. Breaking through the water's surface, she emerged with a cautious awareness, ensuring she remained unseen.

She swam along the edge until she came upon a line of clothing strung between two buildings. On it hung sheets as bright as a lemonpeel angelfish, a skirt holding the vibrance of an orange clownfish, a flowing wrap the hue of a blue tang fish, a pair of trousers the color of a brown leafy sea dragon, a top shaded like that of a pink fairy wrasse, and a flowing dress the cream color of a stingray’s belly.

(Y/N) looked at her surroundings.

The people were on the other side of the clothing line—all mucking about in the market. None even bothered to shed a glance behind the fabric. All were too busy going about their day.

Therefore, with little regard for the forbidden nature of her actions—because, really, fuck the forbidden—(Y/N) decided to defy the rules that had once controlled her life.

Originally, she hadn't intended to act in such defiance, but the anger coursing through her veins urged her forward into impulsive urges.

Hauling her form out of the water, (Y/N) manipulated the water clinging to her, using her fingers in twisting and rippling motions. She gathered the liquid into a cohesive ball and, with a flick of her wrist, sent the sphere dancing through the air before it plopped back into the river.

The tingling sensation began, followed by the excruciating pain, and soon enough, the transformation into legs commenced.

Anxiously, (Y/N) stood. Her shaky legs wobbled as she adjusted to their unfamiliar form. Her trembling fingers swiftly seized the cream colored dress—she didn't want to stand out, she needed to blend in—and she clumsily slipped it on. Her gaze then fixated on a brilliant blue wrap. The color resonated with the deep seas she hailed from, and she couldn't resist. The mermaid grasped the silk and yanked, winding it around her hair in a manner she had observed from land women when peeking from the river. Letting some of her locks cascade out of the twisted band, the blue fabric draped over her shoulders. She smiled.

Her hand instinctively rose to her neck, where her necklace adorned with shells, sea glass, and bones encircled her skin. A frown crossed her face. She couldn't part with it—this cherished gift from her since passed mother. Therefore, she let it remain, finding that it didn't look too out of place.

(Y/N) ventured into the market, nervously navigating the bustling city of Minas Tirith with her new, wobbly legs. The vibrant atmosphere teemed with life and excitement as diverse groups came together to weave the people into the human race. So many men, women, and children—all different sizes, all different shapes, all different skin tones—bustled through the streets.

Young children ran through the tents playing games and tricks on one another. Often enough, a woman was pursuing the chase while yelling for their halt of mischief. Men were not involved in this matter. Instead, they loudly called out the names of what they sold, along with prices, at the busy passerbyers in hopes of getting a customer. Never had (Y/N) seen something so brilliantly enthralling and engaging—not in her time under the sea with the mer-folk.

As she moved through the people, she discreetly snagged what she needed. A pair of sandals disappeared from a rack, and she swiftly turned away before anyone noticed. Vibrantly colored bracelets caught her eye at a vendor's stall, and she couldn't resist snagging a few. Additionally, she plucked food from bins and baskets. She didn't know what it was—but oh how delicious it tasted when it was not dunked in the salt of the sea.

Here, (Y/N) stayed, exploring the thrill of humanity and letting their culture enrapture her senses. So much so, that she failed to notice a soldier adorned in silver until she collided with his metal-plated chest.

Her form tumbled backwards, taking an extra moment to steady.

“Are you alright, miss?” a concerned voice inquired.

(Y/N) slowly raised her head to meet a familiar face: Faramir.

Unable to find her voice, she could only nod in reply. Shyness and anxiety filled her as she backed away from the unexpected encounter.

He acknowledged her reply with a dip of his own head before turning to another soldier a little ways away. He made way towards him and gently touched his arm. “Boromir, we should get going. Father is expecting us.”

(Y/N) went still. Her inquisitive gaze shifted towards him, and indeed, there stood Boromir. His dark, sandy hair brushed upon his forehead, tousled slightly from the refreshing breeze. Vibrant blue eyes held a sternness, concealing the sadness she knew resided in his heart. His pink lips pressed into a firm line, refraining from the warmth of a smile. Boromir was clad in the silver armor and the metal weapons that she had seen him in nearly every day. He looked fit for his position as captain, his authority nearly radiating from him. Now that she was upon the land, he seemed so much bigger—so much stronger. So much more important.

(Y/N)’s cheeks began to heat, prompting her to quickly ducked behind the fabric of a tent. After giving herself a moment, she peaked out.

Though she knew she shouldn't, she found herself following them. At a safe distance, she mimicked every turn, accentuated every step, and utilized every path they took. And when the Steward's sons crossed the threshold of Minas Tirith Castle, so did she.

Instantly, she was met with just as much business as the market. Servants flooded the halls, carrying trays of fruit and platters of meat. Maids held onto neatly folded laundry and finely pressed sheets. Guards bustled about, their steel clanking as they moved through the halls, to get to their next shift, meal, or rest.

(Y/N) was so overwhelmed that she failed to notice a group of soldiers rounding the corner. As they pushed past her, a heavy shoulder slammed into her, the edge of the metal plate catching her forehead. The impact sliced the skin open, causing her to tumble backward against the wall.

Surprising her, she felt a gentle hand upon her arm, holding her steady. A soft voice that she knew all too well, that spoke words all too similar to his brother’s, filled her ears. “Are you alright, miss?”

In a daze, (Y/N) looked up at the dark sandy hair, vibrant blue eyes, and perfect pink lips of Boromir. Too stunned to speak, she merely stared at him, every thought that had occupied her mind vanishing in the moment.

Boromir turned towards the group of soldiers who had caused the commotion and knocked her down. With a tone infused with authority and anger, he snapped at them, “Watch where you are going!”

They turned, initially confused and uncertain of Boromir's reprimand until they spotted the frightened and injured girl beside him.

“What kind of soldiers are you that you let your steel hit a woman!” Boromir added, his irritation even more obvious. “Keep better track of your things—and your forms!”

The soldiers nodded, though their indifference was evident, and they shuffled away without much concern.

Boromir turned back to (Y/N), repeating his prior question, his tone gentle once more. “I apologize for the actions of my men. I will reprimand them later, but right now you are more important, yes? Miss?”

She looked up at him, blinking. He didn’t recognize her, did he?

“You’re bleeding,” he stated softly, his finger pressed gently upon her forehead.

A quiet gasp of pain escaped (Y/N)’s lips and her expressions distorted slightly.

“My apologies. I did not mean to make your pain worse. May I take you to the infirmary? We can get that treated.”

Unsure what to say—and what an infirmary was—she nervously dipped her head.

“Alright,” he began. “Let’s get you moving.”

Gently, he helped her move away from the wall, one arm wrapped around her waist. However, with a couple steps, her vision swirled and she stumbled.

Boromir caught her quickly. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Just a step at a time.” His brows pulled together as he looked down at her. “Are you dizzy? Is the room spinning?”

“I—I,” she stuttered. “Y-yes, uh, sir.”

He released a heated breath from his nose, the anger at the men who had harmed her simmering within him. However, he pushed it away, ensuring his attention remained on her. "How about you sit back down? Lean against the wall to keep you upright, yes?"

(Y/N) nodded, allowing him to help lower her to the stone floor. As the coldness rushed through her bones and the stillness began to steady, she looked up at him. “T-thank you,” she whispered. “Uh, sir.”

The captain smiled softly. “You may call me Boromir.”

She nodded slightly.

Boromir looked up and stopped a passing servant. “Could you please fetch me a medical kit from the infirmary? Just basic supplies.”

The man nodded, accepting the order, and rushed off. Moments later, he returned with various materials in a small box.

Boromir expressed his gratitude as he opened the kit. Without hesitation, he took hold of a soft cloth and gently swiped it upwards, collecting the blood that was now trickling down (Y/N)’s forehead. He then pressed it against the cut that was bleeding rather heavily. "Hold this there," he commanded gently.

The woman reached up to follow his instructions, and Boromir proceeded to lay out an array of little bottles and scraps of cloth. "What is your name?" he inquired as he doused a cloth in the liquids of one of the containers.

Her eyes followed his motions nervously. “(Y/N),” she replied timidly.

The Captain smiled, attempting to provide some comfort. “Are you from around here, (Y/N)?”

She shook her head.

“No? What are you doing in these parts then?” He asked.

“I—I don’t know.”

Boromir frowned, looking up at her from the medical supplies. She appeared more disoriented than he had initially expected. Perhaps the blow to the head was more substantial than he had thought?

“You don’t know?” He questioned, no alarm in his tone. Meanwhile, he began threading a needle, preparing it for the task of stitching her forehead. “Have you come with anyone? A husband? A father?”

She frowned, a blush creeping into her face at the implications of his words. “N-no. Alone.”

Boromir pressed his lips together, a sudden loneliness hitting him—one that he knew all too well—as he placed the threaded needle upon a clean cloth.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

She shook her head.

“Hmm. Alright. Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can worry about that.”

Boromir took the cloth from her forehead, his hand brushing upon hers as he did so. He then began bringing a damp cloth towards her face.

Instantly, her eyes went wide and she ducked away from the material. “It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s just alcohol.” He replied, lowering the cloth.

“N-not water?” She whispered, almost fearful.

He shook his head. “Nay. Water would not clean it properly. This will prevent any infection, though I’m afraid it will sting a bit. Is that alright?”

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded.

Boromir pressed the cloth to the cut and, instantly, she hissed.

“I know, I am sorry,” he murmured.

Gently, he cleaned the wound, being careful to not make any sudden movements that may startle her. When he was certain it was clean, he moved to pick up the needle.

“I will have to stitch it back together so it heals properly.” He looked into her worried gaze and he instantly felt guilt tugging at his heart. It appeared she had never experienced such an injury, or perhaps she had but never received proper treatment for one.

Cautiously, he used his other hand to pick up her own. Her soft palms brushed upon his hardened calloused, gentleness upon her touch. Placing her hand upon his knee, he spoke softly, “If it hurts too much just squeeze really really hard, and I will pause, alright? It is important that you keep your head still, yes?”

She nodded, adjusting her grip upon his knee, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety in her eyes.

Slowly, Boromir began the delicate task of stitching her skin back together. Her grip tightened upon him, only slightly, as she adjusted to the strange sensation of tugging on her skin.

"You are doing beautifully, (Y/N). We are almost done. I promise," the Captain reassured her. As he finished the last stitch and skillfully moved the thread to knot itself, he breathed out, "There we go," placing the needle back upon the cloth. He smiled gently, a reassuring warmth in his eyes, as he carefully cleaned the area around the stitches. "All finished," Boromir stated before leaning back, (Y/N)’s hand slipping from his knee.

“It will be sore for a bit,” he said. “But it should heal in a week. The stitching will fall out on its own, so if it starts to come out, do not worry. Though, I would advise you not to get it wet.”

At that last sentence, (Y/N) smiled softly. She wasn’t planning on getting wet—not anytime soon.

“Can you stand? Has the dizziness subsided?”

The woman nodded and slowly rose to her feet, taking Boromir’s hand when he offered it.

“Let’s find you a place to rest while you heal. And I would like to apologize for my soldiers’ actions once more. You are welcome to stay in Minas Tirith as long as you would like. I will make sure you get everything you need.”

(Y/N) looked up at his kind expression and spoke with that same nervous hesitancy. “Thank you.…Boromir.”

The captain guided her through the castle, arriving at a room. He opened the door and gestured inside with a soft smile. "It is yours to stay in. I will ensure the maids are alerted to provide you with adequate care. If you need anything else, my chambers are just down the hallway to the right, the second door."

She nodded in reply.

He bowed his head. “I will leave you then, miss.”

With that, he was gone.

(Y/N) moved to the center of the room and slowly spun around taking it all in. It was massive and airy. The windows were wind open, the sea breeze rushing in and caring hints of the city. The white curtains blew with that gentle wind, dancing in its whispers. The walls of the chamber were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting only what she could assume to be the legendary tales of the city. They were woven with beautiful silver and turquoise thread, catching the light so delicately. A bed sat in the middle of the room, soft white blankets and comforters piled on it. (Y/N) walked towards it and gently sat upon the fabric. It was….strange. Very different from the large shells she was used to curling up in.

Feeling a sudden tiredness take over her form, she laid down with ease. Resting her head upon the pillow, she allowed sleep to consume her.

…….

When she finally woke, the sun had set, and the stars took their place among the blanket of the sky. Cautiously, she pulled her legs from the cage of blankets and let them dangle off the side of the bed. They looked so….strange upon her form. She was used to her glimmering tail that collected light to share among the waters. Not—not this. She lowered her feet upon the stone floor, almost startled by the coldness that greeted them.

Hunger settled into her stomach as she moved towards the door. However, she found herself at a loss, unsure where to find a meal at this time. The markets were long since closed and she knew not where the kitchen in the Minas Tirith castle was. Of course, she could wander down to the tavern that Boromir frequented regularly—she knew the way well enough, but she didn't have any means to pay.

(Y/N) shifted on her feet. Boromir did say she could come to him if she needed anything….

Almost as if it were an excuse to see him again, she slipped through the door and began following his directions to his chambers. With every step, her heart pounded harder. She would get to see him again—and it wouldn't be through layers of water.

Upon arrival, the door stood ajar, allowing a whisper of cold air to drift from his open windows. Cautiously, she peered into the room. It was shrouded in darkness, with only the soft glow of the moon reflecting upon the vast room—oh, and what a beautiful room it was. The room eluded a captivating chaos, in the most exciting way. Tablets and shelves were filled with various items—maps, books, stones, germs, inventions, and trinkets. The room held a multitude of objects, each beckoning to be looked at, studied, and pondered—igniting a sense of wonder and an urge to guess the intention. Oh, it was a captivating sight.

“Boromir?” she called out.

Silence.

Slowly, (Y/N) stepped in. She let her feet carry her throughout the room, her hand brushing upon every object that her eyes could consume. She picked things up, examined them, then put them down for another. She did so continuously, urgently, the thirst for knowledge of the humans’ customs eager in her blood. She did so, until she came across something familiar—something she was surprised to see.

(Y/N) picked up the bone carved whale from the shelf that it rested on.

He had kept it.

A little grin formed on her face, for after his conversation with Iwar she didn’t think he would.

“Does that one interest you?” A soft tone asked.

(Y/N) jumped, startled.

Boromir chuckled lightly, stepping into the room. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

She glanced down at the whale carving before looking back to him.

“I am not quite sure how that one came into my possession,” he continued as he moved to stand beside her.

She frowned, looking up. Her eyes were now direct at him, focused and stern—for the first time since he had met her. He would be lying if he said it didn't startle him a bit.

“You don't remember?” she asked, her tone strong.

“Well, no it’s not that. Of course, I remember how I got it. It just was a bit peculiar.”

(Y/N) tilted her head, not understanding.

Boromir sighed, his tone was distant as he spoke, his blue gaze not wavering from her curious eyes that suddenly seemed so bold. “A friend of mine says it's a dark omen, ment to mark me for death.” His vision trailed across her face. “He says it is made of the bone of my fallen brothers, urging me to follow them to their deaths.”

“Do you believe that?”

He blinked, his gaze lingering upon the whale. “I do not know what to believe.” Boromir looked at her expression. “What are your thoughts on such a statement?”

(Y/N) shrugged, placing the whale in its spot upon the shelf. “I believe people don’t understand other cultures and customs. I believe they make their own assumptions out of ignorance and fear.”

The captain raised a brow at her intelligence. “You are feeling better then?”

“Hmm?” (Y/N) hummed in question as she moved to another object.

“Well, that is the most I have heard you speak since I met you. You are wiser than you appear to be.”

She only shrugged in response, picking up a telescope and looking through its glass—by the wrong end.

“Though,” Boromir continued in a teasing manner as he plucked the object from her grasp, turned it the correct way, and placed it back in her palms. “That wisdom seems not to extend to everything.”

She frowned, looking through the glass once before placing it down. She then went for a music box, her confused expression deepening. “We do not have all these….these things where I am from.”

Boromir reached across her and twisted the little lever, releasing the gentle music from its hold. “And where is that, may I ask?”

At the twinkling sound, her smile, born of pure delight, extended from her expression. Her response to his question, however, was only that of a simple word, “Far.”

The captain raised a brow. “How far?”

(Y/N) shot him a strange look, placing the music box down and picking up a crystal sphere instead. “You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He grinned playfully. “You do not seem to give many answers, Miss (Y/N).”

She glared at him.

With that playful smile, he spoke again. “Would it help if you got to ask a question?”

(Y/N)‘s eyes crinkled with thought as she placed the object down and turned towards him. She saw how his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, how the circles under his eyes appeared so dark, how his expression was so hollow. Softly, she spoke again. “Why are you so sad, Boromir?”

Taken aback by this, his lips parted. “I—I do not know what you mean.”

She took a step closer to him, a step that nearly eliminated the space between them, and her piercing gaze burned up at him for the truth.

Hesitantly, he whispered that truth, as if she compelled it right out of him. “I—I recently was in a shipwreck. I thought, well, I thought I was dead—left for the watery graves below.” He paused, just for a moment. “But yet I am here and I do not know why. And, I am beginning to question things that I know, well, thought I knew, for the world appears different now.”

Silence.

Boromir's soft voice then picked up again, his breath warm upon the woman’s face. “Why are you so sad, (Y/N)?”

At this, her shy nature returned. (Y/N) turned her head away, not wanting to look at the source of her sadness.

Gently, Boromir tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You implored me to tell you such a truth,” he whispered. “May I not ask the same of you?”

(Y/N)’s tone was soft. “My truth is complicated.”

“Are not all truths complicated?” he responded.

With that, she withdrew from his grasp—a hold she desperately craved—and created enough distance between them, leaving him to wonder if such closeness had occurred at all.

A loud grumble then echoed through the dark room—splitting the darkness with something else, something much for lighthearted.

“When have you last eaten?” Boromir asked.

Her brows pulled together as she looked at her stomach.

He chuckled, offering her his hand. “Come. Let’s get you some food. I can take you to my favorite place.”

“But I—I have no coin,” she whispered shyly.

“You are a guest of Gondor, Gondor will see you fed.”

(Y/N) smiled, that innocent gaze returning. She hesitantly took his hand and he led her through the castle and towards the tavern.

The two arrived at the tavern rather quickly. Urine, stale ale, and sweat flooded (Y/N)’s nostrils—familiar aromas reminiscent of her vigilant watch over Boromir along the Anduin River. The lively atmosphere enveloped the pair. In the corner, a bard sang to the patrons, his melodic voice resonating throughout, enticing some to join in. Drunk men, tapping their feet along to the beat of the tune, howled in laughter and glee as they clinked their ales together and shoveled food into their mouths. Requests for additional drinks prompted maidens, adorned in long skirts and aprons, to gracefully deliver brimming glasses, the foaming liquid sloshing about.

(Y/N) smiled, taking in the environment.

Boromir cast a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “It’s just a tavern.”

She turned to him, her grin unwavering. “We don’t have taverns where I am from.”

He raised a brow. “And where is that? You never said.”

She shrugged. “Far.”

(Y/N) moved deeper into the tavern, with Boromir following suit. He motioned towards an available table, and they both took a seat. Before long, a serving maiden approached. Boromir signaled for two meals and two ales, and they promptly arrived.

The woman wasted no time and eagerly indulged in her food, swiftly emptying the plate.

Boromir tried to suppress a smile as he saw this, for he was glad she was getting proper nutrition after her likely long and hard journey. He, of course, wished to know more of her origins; though, he could see she wasn't quite ready to discuss such things. Instead, he opted to answer any and all questions she had which began with her curious tone.

“Boromir, would you be willing to tell me of your city? How you live in these parts? I wish to know.”

His soft gaze made contact with hers and he nodded, chewing his food and swallowing before he spoke. “What would you wish to know?”

“Everything—its structures, its people, its culture, its history.”

Therefore, Boromir spoke of such things. He described the White City's towering architecture, the valor of its people, and the complexities of the various beliefs held. He relayed its history and tales, showcasing the values of the Gondorian people.

His narratives ignited a spark in her eyes, drew laughter from her lips, and filled her heart with joy.

Fuck the forbidden indeed.

As the hours stretched on, Boromir’s friends joined them. (Y/N) could see the gleam in their eyes and catch the less-than-subtle teasing tones as they whispered about Boromir bringing a lady to their tavern. Faramir, arriving shortly after, seemed prepared for a night of dealing with his drunken brother, only to find himself pleasantly surprised by his brother's apparent sobriety and the joy the unknown woman seemed to bring to his melancholy soul.

Yet, amid the cheerful atmosphere, a pair of shifting gray eyes belonging to an old man that (Y/N) recognized as Iwar, kept her uneasy heart alert.

…..

Everything Tag: @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @desert-fern @skairipakomtrikru @genderfluid-anime-goth @sotwk @sirenofavalon @hobbitsesoftheshire @asianbutnotjapanese @mgchaser @heavenshumour @heavenshumour @clairealeehelsing @starenemy @ceruleanrainblues @casuallyeating-blog @cheari @aheadfullofsteverogers @imthebadguyyy @beehivehappy @queenmariex @newjsns01

Everything But Spice Tag: @goldfearless @cauliflowertree @heranintomyknife23times @mxmia @unethicallypleistocene @amessofmultifandom

Boromir Tag: @scyllas-revenge @lord-westley @callistobalisto

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST(S)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

☀️ CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge 🏖

The following are prompts including the theme of Summer! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☀️ Generic Prompts ☀️

Everyone looks better in a sundress.

Character doesn't know how to swim.

Characters A and B cuddle in a hammock.

The team has a (MASSIVE) family barbecue.

The BAU has a pool party at Rossi's vacation home.

The sun makes Characters sleepy, so they take a nap.

Characters A and B have a picnic (it goes well/wrong).

Character shows up in swimwear that no one expected.

Character A suffers heatstroke and B takes care of them.

Character A teases B about needing to practice CPR at the pool party.

Character A never loved B more than when they ran through the sprinklers.

The air conditioning broke and Characters try to find creative ways to cool off.

Characters A and B go berry picking together (and enjoy the fruits of their labor).

It's Character's first time camping and they weren't prepared for how cold it gets on summer nights.

Character A lectures B on the importance of sunscreen, yet freezes when they are asked to help apply it.

The BAU is a group of very serious FBI agents. They take their water gun/balloon fights very seriously.

The couple thought their vacation would be a chance to get away from the BAU, but the resort town they're staying in turns out to have an unsub in it.

Character helps their child with their first entrepreneurial venture... a lemonade stand. They weren't expecting half the damn FBI to show up.

Character A’s wide-brimmed hat flew right off their head and into a tree. B helps them get it down.

Anything else you can think of!

☀️ Dialogue Prompts ☀️

"It's like Hotch at the beach."

"Come on in, the water's fine."

"It's so hot but I am so touch starved."

"... How did you even get that tan line?"

“Yes, the sunburn is as bad as it looks.”

"Oh my god, do I hear the ice cream truck?"

"Next Summer, we're doing the Alaskan cruise."

"It's a million degrees outside, why are you in the hot tub?"

(sarcastic) “Feels just like the summer camps of my youth.”

"I am staying hydrated. All of my drinks are iced." "That does not count."

"There is no shame in using a pool floatie." "Yes, there is. I'm shaming you."

“You look hot.” “Thank you!” “No, I mean literally… I think you’re overheating.”

(lying) "My phone doesn't work on the beach. Must be the signal or something..."

☀️ Character Specific Prompts ☀️

Spencer: He learned from the last time a beautiful person pulled him into a pool.

Spencer: He has a degree in engineering. How can he be defeated by a sandcastle?

Spencer: "I don't really like the beach... Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces.”

Luke: Reader loves to go to the dog beach to look at cute puppies. A dog named Roxy takes special interest in them.

Tara/Emily: “And what did you do with your summer vacation, Emily Prentiss?”

☀️ NSFW Prompts ☀️ 18+ ONLY ☀️

Character gets caught skinny dipping.

Character A can't get out of the water after seeing B.

Sex on the beach is so much worse than everyone said.

Character A can't deal with how much B loves popsicles/ice cream cones.

It's too hot to wear clothes at home, so Character walks around in their underwear.

Character A finally convinces B to go to the beach with them. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

🏖 Happy Writing! 🏖

[sssardonian-ssserpent]

((Mild hot take in the read below (nothing to do with drama just my own opinion on an aspect of Hazbin):

The CherriSnake in this show was not written very well. It was written poorly. Very poorly. Extremely poorly. Which sucks to me because, I’ll admit, I was not a CherriSnake shipper going into the show. I disliked it because of how it was everywhere and I just didn’t vibe with anything about it from what I saw or various fanworks, but I tried to go into it with an open mind because I knew it was coming thanks to the episode 6 trailer featuring Cherri that came out on Twitter. I wanted to see if I could like it, see if the show could win me over because it was doing a fantastic job with Husk and Angel. And not only did it NOT do a great job, it honestly made me hate the ship even MORE because of how sloppy, slap-dashed, in credibly rushed and utterly lacking of any chemistry, bonding, or character depth it had.

First off. I’m not a fan of how suddenly and without warning Pentious’s absolute and total crush on Cherri was. Like, we’re talking about a man who literally called Cherri and Angel both “whores with no class” in the pilot during their fight (which is confirmed to be canon to the show’s timeline by the by so HE DID call her that, at some point), and seemed to completely disregard her as nothing but an enemy to try and destroy, so forgive my skepticism when in episode 6 he’s suddenly sheepishly trying to buy drinks for her/asking to have sex with her and nervously trying to declare his love for her on the evening before the finale battle. And that’s another thing that I’m not a fan of, him trying to proclaim that he loves her. Sure, you could make the argument that he did it in a spur of the moment thing because he thought there was a chance he may die, and that’s fair, but I feel like that is way, WAY too strong of a declaration for one character to make when he’s only realistically talked to her, maybe four times in the whole season, 3 of those times being the result of a three gag punchline.

Like. Proclaiming your love for someone is a very, very, very different thing from just expressing your interest or your liking someone. It’s much more heavy and it has a shit ton more emotional weight behind it. Weight that Pentious doesn’t even nearly begin to have to try and approach her and declare it right there in the lobby. And even then, what does he say he loves her for? The fact that he thinks she’s beautiful and she makes explosive weaponry that he finds amazing.

That’s it. Nothing else. Just the two most bare bones and basic shit about her character. Nothing about her personality, nothing about anything deeper in her heart that he may see, nothing about any connections he personally feels with her, NOTHING. It feels almost completely soulless and just lacking in the most basic of romantic chemistries, because we never see even a single scene of just these two talking to each other. It’s just Pentious trying to confess/awkwardly trying to flirt with her and then dipping immediately, until he doesn’t when they kiss shortly before he dies and drops the love confession from her, which, COULD HAVE been an emotional moment, if they had gotten more than, at best, three whole fucking scenes in the entire season with each other.

A romantic kiss scene should not be making me roll my eyes in annoyance and sighing. A love confession should not be making me sit there and shouting at my screen “what do you LOVE about her??? You BARELY KNOW EACH OTHER!” And yet here we are.

And that’s not even beginning to get into Cherri’s characterization because boy do I have some words for that.

First off, the actively dismissing Pentious when it’s clear he’s trying to flirt with her/leading him on when he’s clearly confused and struggling.

Now I’m not saying Cherri Bomb should’ve been immediately crushing right back on Pentious or that she should’ve been just as spellbound with him as he was for her or anything, god no. But it really doesn’t help with the “the ship has no chemistry” thing going on in the ship when it feels like the other active participant in said ship just does not have any interest at all/is purposefully trying to lead the other on with no actual intentions to follow through.

I’ve seen so many people talk about the club scenes with Cherri Bomb and how she was actively always giving Pentious so many openings to actually flirt with her, and I’m sitting like “…WHERE?” The first time Pentious tries to engage in anything close to flirting in the hotel, reaching to touch her shoulder while asking her questions, she roughly grabs his hand, and declares “don’t touch me.” That is already super fucking clearly NOT an opening. That is her shutting his ass down super fast.

Then we have the scenes where he is trying to buy her drinks. He asks her politely if she’d want to have him buy her a drink, and she snidely responds with “Why? Didn’t you say we were arch rivals?” while smirking at him in this very almost snooty way. Pentious, panicking because of having to eat his own words, backs off immediately and makes the excuse he’s buying drinks for everyone there.

And then it happens again when he does actually buy her a drink, and she just silently glares at him with an annoyed grimace on her face. Which makes Pentious back off again and immediately declare how he’s buying drinks for everyone again. (“Giving him an opening” my ass.)

She is CONSTANTLY brushing him off the entire night and not showing any interest in him in the slightest, with the ultimate blow being when, clearly drunk, Pentious asks her if she wants to have sex with him, and she responds like this.

It’s the specific wording of “I’m sorry, why would we have sex” for me. Combined with her laughing in his face and looking completely and totally unfazed by it. I’ve seen some people say that “oh she wasn’t saying no, that wasn’t a no” and I’d like to heartily disagree with that notion. People sometimes say “I’m sorry” at the beginning of their sentence either as a means of asking them to repeat themselves or as a means of softening the blow for a rejection, and the wording of “why would we” is a very EXPLICIT rejection in my mind.

It doesn’t read to me like a legit question, it comes off as rhetorical and mean, a firm and amused “no, why the fuck would we do that/no, why the fuck would you think I’d want to have sex with you?” And Pentious’s rejected expression that doesn’t change throughout that brief scene speaks to me that is exactly what was trying to be said here.

And then Pentious bails for the third time and the punchline comes when he’s dragged into that orgy by the rest of the club patrons, she happily goes on her merry way fucking some other club patron for the night and doesn’t even look at Pentious once. There is explicitly NO interest being shown with Cherri here, and it utterly kills any potential ways their characters could mesh in a way that’s fun to watch or talk about.

And we don’t even get the chance to see her again until episode 8, which is where the most infuriating aspect of Cherri’s character in this ship comes into play for me. The part where she learns that Pentious has two dicks.

This is just after Pentious runs away after nervously trying to confess his love for her (again, when they barely know each other and he spent the entire night he saw her last getting constantly rejected by her) and Angel approaches her talking about how she could totally bang/hook up with him and she responds by scoffing and saying “don’t be gross.” And then, when Angel lets slip that he heard Pentious has two dicks…

THEN she becomes interested.

THEN. ONLY THEN.

No thinking he’s cute, no thinking his mannerisms or awkward attempts at talking to her are endearing, no secretly thinking his tech and machines are cool or that the Eggbois are cute, none of that makes her interested in him. It’s the fact that he’s potentially hung in the bedroom that makes her even remotely interested in fucking him. NOT LOVING HIM. FUCKING HIM.

She barely even reacts to his death. It’s just a look of shock on her part. Her brow doesn’t even furrow.

So…Just to recap.

Angel Dust and Husk got multiple scenes together throughout the entire season where they’re constantly interacting, talking, fighting with each other, until it finally culminates in a beautiful and heart wrenching scene of understanding that then glides perfectly into a captivating and catchy song about understanding each other’s struggles and learning that they don’t have to be alone with their shitty situations and can rely on each other.

Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb got, at best, 6 scenes with each other across two and only fucking two episodes, and it consists of nothing but a random and sudden crush that is fueled by no chemistry, no bonding, no understanding, and only consists of the most bare bones physical attraction that raises to a fever pitch of a love confession way, WAY TOO QUICKLY on one side, and total and utter disinterest that only barely reaches the desire to fuck the other just because they heard how they had a second dick on the other side, all culminating in no song, no character growth between the two, and a sacrificial kiss and love confession that feels hollow and empty because there is absolutely nothing there behind it.

Can you see why I’m so mad about how this was written now?

[pumpkinsy0]

PUMPKIN I NEED YOU TO GIVE ME AS MANY REASONS WHY PURLY IS THE BEST SHIP!! MY FRIEND IS TRYING TO CONVINCE ME THAT IT SUCKS AND I NEED TO PROVE HER WRONG

-🍵🧊

this feels like the equivalent of giving the bat signal in the sky for me to come

ANYWAYS LETS GO🚨🚨🚨

shipping papercut is like making a sandwich at subway, u can say it sucks all u want, but my brother in christ, U made it that way, this ship is like one of thee “u can do whatever the fuck u want w these two and u can make it make sense” ship u can possibly have in this fandom, if u dont like papercut, maybe its just UR rendition of it u dont like, pick it up n try it again w different things added to it to see if u like it🙄🙄

this ship is literally at the VERY BASE of it, opposites that compliment each other attracting and high school sweethearts and ur telling me ur not at least a lil interested🤨🤨AND I WASNT KISSING W THE ARTISTIC LIBERTY U CAN TAKE W THESE TWO, they can literally be enemies to lovers, that aloof couple trope, fake dating that turned real, u can even make ur own way on how they got together, u can pick and choose its like an all u can eat buffet, ur not rlly “trapped by canon” here

these r literally two dumbasses together like all the time, just imagine the dumb but sweet things they find themselves doin, and the ppl they annoy, just have a heart

if u like angst, curly was in the reformatory for 6 months after ponys life was quite literally changed forever, curly doesnt quite understand his own emotions, pony tries to see the good in the world while curlys always in trouble, AND THERES OTHERS IF U JUST DIP UR TOES INTO SHIPPING EM, the angst potential is RIGHT there🗣️🗣️

at the very base of this ship, theres nothing wrong w it, theres no weird age gap, they wouldnt be abusive towards each other, and ik some ppl have issues w this but also, but its a rare “not dating within the gang” ship, so u would HAVE to go out of ur WAY to make it weird, literally nothing wrong w this ship

if u love the relationship pony has w the gang, this ship can definitely help u expand on ponys relationship w everyone as a whole and u can show off just how protective the guys can become when it comes to pony in his own romantic relationships, what other ship u know is doin that🤨🤨BARELY ANY OF EM IF U DID NAME SOME🗣️🗣️🗣️

honestly same thing goes w the shepards, theres no other ship where u have angela and tim’s relationships w curly being explored through any other ship

while pony and curly r friends during the outsiders, its obvious they arent THAT close to each other, and so what i find interesting about this ship is that u can imagine their own little relationship actually building up and the trust in each other growing, as time goes on, i just think its cool to see them actually flourish, just make something entirely new because of the other and with each other, in a different way from other ships in this fandom

im a literal suckerrrr for cultural hcs so i love when theres cultural aspects actually shown with this ship i think its so cool bc it can get pretty intimate, like curly showing and introducing pony to parts of his culture???? so intimate actually SO underrated, and thats rlly only something i see done w the shepards and it rubs off on this ship as well and i love it 1000/10 (while we here can i convince u of haitian shepards🤔🤔 /lh)

they have shared experiences!!! yes they r opposites attract but they r also just some guys who r put in the same situation, trying to navigate life and protect each other, together, and even in their personal lives, theres things that should push them away from the other but it doesnt, they r this fandoms ship equivalent of the indomitable human spirit and thats all bc they r stupid lil dudes together

are u not a sucker for a guy whos pretty much been closed off emotionally a good chunk of his life finding someone to share his life w and finally finding learning to chillax once in a while w that person and that person alone cause theyre special to em?? boooooo🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱thats such a good trope

this is like the only ship where u actually have “rival” gangs interacting w each other,,,WHERE IS UR SENSE OF ADVENTURE

every shipper of them is literally so cool, like literally, ive never met a shitty shipper of these two, shipping them is like having a vip pass, and its not even like a huge group of ppl, its a small community, we r like a quiet village, unlike SOME SHIPS HERE🙄🙄

ANYWAYS i rest my case, ur just bein a lil haterrrr

if this aint convince ur friend that they arent at least a lil good, the problem isnt the ship,,,its ur friend,,,drop em immediately, but if this did??? welcome to the cool club

[spopsalt]

Found these on Pinterest. Thought I’d drop em by you and share my thoughts.

Idk what they’re trying to say. But I don’t like looking at it, so moving on.

Idk much about Bubbline since I’m not that far I to the show. But something tells me it’s not remotely the same. All I know is that PB was super racist and called Marcy ‘monster trash’ the second before Marcy broke up. Might’ve actually been the reason why Marcy dumped her. Idk.

Hey now. Don’t do that.😃 Also, Romeo and Juliet is a CAUTIONARY tale, so… Unless this person is acknowledging C//A would be some mutually self destructive shit, this person is implying quite a few things, all objectively wrong. But I don’t have time to unpack all that now. Also I say mutually, not that Adora is abusive, but that Catra’s weird complex would assure her very proximity to Adora would make her feel inferior, meaning she’d be hurt in some way too. Not Adora’s fault, but still.

Kids. Literal kids. Like look, I’m fine with media explaining that teens can sexual, since it reflects reality and a lot of teens irl ARE sexually active or at least exploring their sexuality. I mean, I wasn’t an active teen, but again, I explored my own sexuality. So that’s fine I guess. But there’s a difference between reflecting the reality of teen sexuality and actively sexualizing underage characters. It’s about framing. And THIS is being framed in a creepy way. Not in a ‘let’s face it, it happens, it’s puberty, it’s normal’ sort of way, but they do it as a ‘look how hot this is! Lol’ way. And I don’t like that. It’s creepy, and low key a bit belittling.

Okay… Entrapta is like 10-15 years older than Adora. So maybe don’t draw her like this since that’d make her a pedophile/ephebophile which I hate for a number of reasons. Also, Adora is a lesbian in this version, so idk why Bow and Sea Hawk are there. So… yeah. Literally half of them shouldn’t be here.

Hi! First off, please censor the names of the posters of the tweets. Just want to make sure nobody harasses them, ok! Time to dissect them!

Ew, thanks for showing me Adora's scars that she got from her future girlfriend!

Bubbline is so much healthier than c//a!? It's sad how people will compare any wlw ship to c//a. Also, STOP ROMANTICIZING THE PRINCESS PROM DANCE!

Ew, reminder Romeo was much older than Juliet, and Juliet was still a minor, honestly the way it's a toxic ship that was romanticized reminds me of c//a.

Again, CHILDREN. LITERAL CHILDREN! And Adora didn't even want to have this dance in the first place?? Catra literally forced her into it, then dipped her SO LOW that she couldn't support herself, so she had to put her leg there, STOP SEXUALIZING TEENS!

EWWWW! Again, Adora is a lesbian, so Bow shouldn't be there, Sea Hawk looks like a literal adult even though he said to be a teen, Glimmer and Mermista are the only ones who have shown interest in Adora out of these, Glimmer has good chemistry with her, Mermista has blushed at her a handful of times and ENTRAPTA IS LITERAL 30!

[grumfield]

Do you have any Obikin fics that you could recommend? I'm dipping my toes in the water for the first time because of the Ranwan parallels

Hehe YESSS happy to provide for a fellow ranwanist!! I actually never read fic before this ship so I’m so happy I can finally answer a fic request ask!!

I’ll give you the first three I read that really got me into the ship because of 2ha adjacent vibes!! These are good entry points I think for my beloved 2ha followers, because over the past few months most of the stuff I read has gotten more fandom-esoteric lol

All He’ll See is Me is basically the premise of 2ha condensed into a clean 35k and was my first fic-intro to the ship. Evil dark lord dies and gets sent back in time and porks his teacher, but this time, it’s in space! I’m pretty sure it’s the most popular fic in the ship tag based on kudos

haunt me then is very much a 0.5 timeline esque 7k one-shot the author describes as "he came back wrong to you, but he came back to me” featuring weird codependent willing attic wifey stuff with the shadow of the person you used ton love and still love. absolutely delicious, and is nonlinear for extra flavor.

Come Down From Your Holy Mountain is the one I credit to really launching my interest, it’s like completed at 150k where, instead of leaving Anakin to die after chopping off his limbs on a volcano planet, decides to save him and rehab him. I really loved how involved the plot was and the slow-burn development of their relationship

Also, though it’s not a fic, it may as well be so I’m suggesting it. If you decide this ship is up your alley do your self a favor and read the The Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matt Stover. Aside from being really really really phenomenally written, is literally the most yaoi a book’s ever been without being explicitly yaoi. It’s somehow even more homoerotically charged and gayngsty than any fanfiction where they have sex. I literally cannot articulate to you how fucking insane it is. It’s literally what actually drove home my obsession because I was kind of like “okay wow…this codependent one sided yaoi is actually way more insane than I ever imagined” because Matt Stover writes Obi-Wan like a repressed gay monk in love with his friend, and as a result literally every other author to write official Star Wars books involving them channeled that energy but amped up the weird to untouchable levels.

Some batshit from the novel since I need to get this across to you:

“Blade-to-blade, they were identical. After thousands of hours in lightsaber sparring, they knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than lovers; they were complementary halves of a single warrior.”

“Every day and every night [Obi-Wan] violated every principle the Jedi had taught him about staying in the present moment, about acceptance. Going over every argument, every talk, to find the key that he should have turned in order to unlock the secrets of Anakin's heart.”

‘Palpatine lifted his shoulders. "Perhaps not. Perhaps it's simply a question of whether you love Obi-Wan Kenobi more than you love your wife."’

A scene where Anakin’s wife basically calls out Obi-Wan for loving Anakin and it literally reads like someone’s wife confronting her oblivious straight husband’s “confirmed bachelor” friend when he’d thought he’d kept it a secret.

And more. On like every page to the point where I was like. What the actual fuck were you on.

Anywayssssss hope this was helpful to you LMAO!!! If anyone wants recs or to chat you’re always more than welcome to DM me to ask or talk about it lol.

[thisismarisaaa]

*I have put a pause on this for awhile. Will reach out to others at a later date.*

We’re dipping into winter soon and I think I would like to dip my toes back into indie rping over discord only. I’m over 25 so I ask that any partners be over 22, though older ones are even more preferred.

Some things about me and what I’m looking for:

I consider myself a literate writer but I do prefer quality over quantity, meaning if we start out with long replies and over time they dwindle down a bit, that’s okay by me. I’m also very into texting threads for some quick fire. I just ask that your replies contain at least a paragraph or two, I want to know your characters thoughts, desires, all of that.

I am looking to double, and generally only write m x f for now. Please see further down for my Pinterest board of wanted fcs, I would love to see yours as well.

All of my rps will contain ns.fw content of all kinds, please let me know your triggers. 

I enjoy angst, toxic dynamics, hurt/comfort, all sorts of tropes. Fluff is good and well but I’m probably going to pull on your heartstrings more often than not.

I am a friendly person ooc and want someone who is friendly, social, and looking to connect outside our writing. I like to share aesthetics, inspiration, and music! I want to write with people who are just as into the plot as I am.

I try to be as active as I can but this can vary due to work/life. I will let you know when I’m gone for an extended time. Please do not rush my replies, I will not rush yours! 

I’m looking for the following plots (Some I have specific ideas for, others we would need to collaborate a bit):

Crime/Mafia 

Royal arranged marriage

Toxic exes/toxic ships

Sugar daddy/Sugar baby tropes

Please click here for my Wanted FCs pinboard → Wanted Opposites 

As you can see I like real face claims as well as animated and I’m fine with you having the same!

If you’re interested in chatting please like this post. Because I’m getting pinged as spamming for sending links, I can’t guarantee I’ll send you a link to this post, so please check your likes if I reach out to you to refer back here. Thanks for your understanding!! Also please have your DMs open or like...I can't message you lmao

[juiceastronaut]

Writing Commissions Open! (Dm for payment details.)

Hi everyone! Opening commissions for the first time, let's see how this goes! Any fandom is accepted, give me a character description and a dynamic and I'm off to the races. Word count for requested fanfic cannot exceed 5k words (I'm only just starting out and don't want to overload myself until I'm aware of my limits.)

Fandoms I've written for and are provided as some examples below include: Dungeon Meshi, Mob Psycho, Owl House, Helluva Boss, Fate Series, Castlevania.

More info under the read more:

The price will be sliding scale,

1k words: $15

2k words: $25

3k words: $30

4k words: $35

5k words: $40

Will Not Write: Any ship with minors/adults, minors in a sexual context, incest, rape/noncon (can be negotiated if its within the context of a BDSM scene), beastiality, and anything with bigoted language in a sexual context (ie. raceplay).

I reserve the right to refuse a commission if it makes me uncomfortable.

Special Interest Characters That If You Comission Me For I'll Be Super Happy: Kabru (of Utaya), Falin Touden, Laois Touden, Toshiro Nakamoto, Reigen Arataka, Serizawa Katsuya, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Lancelot, Saber, Siegfried, Hunter Wittebane.

Some samples of my work (links to the fanfics will be below)

Example One:

He remembered…the first time he had a slice of cake. Standing at about three feet tall at five years old, the servants had fed him extremely basic, nutrition-dense meals, more interested in teaching him proper etiquette with spoon placement than cooking him good food. Then, as a demonstration of how to slice, divvy out, and eat dessert, they brought out a chocolate truffle cake, with coconut sprinkles on top. He had never seen anything like it before, the colors of the cake practically saturated in comparison to the glob he had been used to. And they let him eat it, the wonderful flavors practically melting on his tongue.

He wouldn’t eat his other food after that, throwing an absolute hissy fit on the floor, demanding the cake again, chucking the food back at the servants and sobbing his eyes out. His father actually had to be called for that one, and the chef was instructed to start cooking him more complex meals. “You jump started his palette, it’s to be expected that the Ars Goetia have refined tastes in food.” Only the most wonderful of meals graced his table from that moment forth, and his tantrums stopped, eating happily through his lessons once more. Stolas could not for the life of him figure out how those events produced the same feelings inside him.

Example Two:

This stupid bird. If it had just flown away when Hunter told it to. Found literally any other witch that wasn’t the nephew of the person explicitly hunting creatures like it. The wood of the box slightly darkening as droplets trickled from his face down onto it. He hated this stupid thing, hated how he’d grown to like it being around, its dumb chirps in the morning as it asked for breakfast, the way it listened to him when he talked to it about the books he’d been reading. He didn’t want to lose it.

He found himself already shaking his head.

Example Three:

“Gotta tell you Serizawa, this kind of gave me whiplash. I thought you were gonna list the fact I…well, I thought you were angry.” “I’m not angry. Well…I’m–” Serizawa sighed, the words failing him. “Woah, wait, are you upset? Look, I know it wasn’t the most lucrative pay in the world but it was legit all I can afford. I’m not paying much more to myself than–” Serizawa dipped Reigen, spinning him around, which succeeded in silencing him. He swung him back up again, trying not to notice the flush on his cheeks, “I know, I know…just…” Get it together, we’ll know and do better. “It’s not just–” It just don’t come natural to think…that you’d want me for me. “--This is just what I need to do right now,” Serizawa whispered. Reigen nodded, looking off to the side. I swear, I’m really trying. “No and I…I understand that, like I said…” Reigen looked back at him, smiling, “You don’t have to justify it to me. I knew I couldn’t keep you forever.” Oh I’m sorry, I promise, I’m doing my best. Serizawa looked into Reigen’s face, and felt in his grasp the slight shake of his frame. The song ended and Reigen attempted to push him away. But Serizawa caught the corner of his sleeve, pulling him back. His mouth gaped open and shut like a fish. This is how he knew that Reigen didn’t feel the same way about him, he would’ve been so much better at getting the words out than Serizawa. “I–” I just haven’t learned how to be human as you are yet.

Example Four:

Laois started looking around while Toshiro worked, Kabru going back into their cave to change into fresh clothes, picking up his rock again afterwards, going up to check on Toshiro. He looked up for a moment, then went back to work. Kabru laid down beside him, holding his rock up, watching the light bounce down his arms. He sighed and stretched out, putting the rock down, resting his eyes. “You two seemed to have fun,” Toshiro spoke. Kabru cracked an eye open, speaking through a yawn, “What do you mean?” Toshiro looked at him, then back at his journal, “I…forgive my forwardness, but you two left here fully clothed with armor and then you came back with no armor, half-undressed, and soaking wet.” Kabru held up his rock again, “We found these rocks while we were at the stream.” “I see…” “Why do you ask?” Toshiro shook his head, “No question, just an observation. I’m glad you two had fun.” Kabru tilted his head, feeling his brain trying to click into that, analyzing Toshiro’s response, trying to decipher its meaning. He decided against it, however, curling up on his side and closing his eyes again. “You should–” Kabru yawned, “--speak up more. No one's gonna bite you if you do.” Toshiro paused in his writing, “Oh?”

Example one, two ,three, four, and some more for good measure

Let me know if you're interested!

Edit: First commission finished! Read it here

[godkilller]

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

I will always ship Ginran above all else, but Aigin is lovely too and has some spice to it -- and I could be convinced to dabble in other pairings considering activity's been sparse from my shipping partners (not their fault, life's tiring and I'm barely here too!) and Gin's a social butterfly. I've opened my eyes to the potential for Gin and Izuru, but on my terms and not at all in the fanon's direction. Ultimately people shouldn't try to ship with me unless they're mentally prepared for their character to be constantly contesting against Rangiku in terms of their importance to Gin. As a sidenote; Shipping Gin with an OC is nearly impossible, as he requires knowing someone since the dawn of time to ever consider developing feelings for them, and I'm not too keen on people inserting their OCs into my character's past solely to avoid doing the heavy lifting of courtship.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

I'm not afraid of dipping into the toxicity of certain dynamics, nor am I one to ignore the cruelty that Gin can exude -- he's manipulative, possessive, and altogether a murderous obsessed freak. No amount of unconventional devotion can hide the darker parts of him, though I am also one to enjoy writing Gin experiencing and attempting domesticity and the softness that comes with it. I'm flexible.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

Shinigami age-gap discussions are tricky, especially the whole 'Tite forgot how old this person was / how ageing works' undertones with some of his characters (Hiyori is the same age as Gin????? Hello?), but basically I don't want anything to do with creepy shit, thanks. If Gin can comfortably punt your character into the stratosphere because they're snack-sized then he doesn't want them sexually or in any manner.

Are you selective when shipping?

ABSOLUTELY. Gin can get the ick, no matter how hypocritical he is for getting it, simply because your character didn't reply 'right' to his throwaway comment. Gin gets bored easily; if your character isn't as smart or smarter than him (and I mean that in a cunning / well-rounded way, not a 'this character knows everything that could possibly be known about the development of spoons throughout history' or some sort of thesaurus-vomit of them trying to sound super smart to him, he'll immediately become violently unimpressed he'd sooner gut himself with Shinso than finish a conversation with them) or your character is immensely weaker than him, then he isn't interested. Gin requires being challenged. Both Rangiku and Aizen challenge Gin pretty outright in different ways. Keep him on his toes, push and pull at him, make him want to pick you apart. Don't bore him.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

I don't tend to tag things until it's literally inappropriate if it was a visual medium instead. Kissing and clothed touching, even if in raunchy positions, aren't NSFW to me -- I expect everyone following me to understand my blog is an adult space. Tags won't come out till genitals get involved. If people read the written word 'nipple' over your shoulder from ten feet away and get you into hot water then you gotta tell me where they get their superior hawk-esque eyesight from, I'd like a slice.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

Just Rangiku and Aizen for now, but as I said before I am opening up to the potential for Gin and Izuru. Gin and Byakuya is hilarious, too, and I've made jokes in the past about Gin and Kenpachi. Pfft. It's hard to ship Gin with other female characters in Bleach considering Orihime's a human teenager, no thanks, and Rukia hates his guts and Gin clearly didn't like her either so it'd be a hateship purely, Harribel and Gin never exchange actual canon dialogue, Unohana is way older than him and probably thinks he's an amateur at murderous intent, the Zero Squad ladies only exist after he's canonly dead, Hinamori's a whole child and is traumatized by his Aizen-killing/not killing stunt, Tatsuki is a lesbian human teenager, Soifon is laughably a lesbian so pent up she might explode if a man ever tries to lay a hand on her, Yoruichi is too close to / complicit with Hogyoku-maker Urahara Kisuke whom Gin loathes for inspiring Aizen to steal a piece of Rangiku's soul, Nemu is too busy being Mayuri's... whatever the fuck, Isane would faint if Gin opened his eyes once at her, Hiyori is literally split in half by him and she's a literal child, Yachiru is a literal child, Lisa is also at least bi-woman preference if not fully a lesbian, Kukaku probably hates Gin's guts ever since he lopped off Jidanbo's arm at the gate because that's a sore subject for her, Kiyone is a literal child, Sung-sun is too boringly quiet and weak for his tastes, Loly isn't quiet enough and is too weak, Apacci is even worse, Mila Rose is on thin ice too, all of the Femritters are introduced after Gin's dead so we'll never know for sure if he'd even tolerate their girlbosses-don't-look-at-explosions-then-get-stupidly-defeated act, oh god who am I forgetting -- I want y'all to know I had to stop here to Google it and for some reason in the list of all female Bleach characters, somehow, Omaeda is on the list at the very bottom.... congratulations on your transition <333

Anyway long story short I don't think Gin's very compatible with the existing female Bleach cast, hence my various male/male ships instead. Gin's fluid. I acknowledge and approach shipping with the assumption that most if not all Bleach canons probably think Gin's gross or deplorable or both. But hey, I have a soft spot for writing enemies-to-lovers.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Yes because otherwise I'll just stew in the possibilities and assume it's one-sided and never bring anything up 'cause I don't wanna freak people out. But please keep in mind I am very picky because Gin himself is even pickier. You may be rejected ultimately, and it's really not something that's personal with me. A better approach would be the age-old, tried and true method of jokingly saying 'wouldn't it be funny if they caught feelings?' at me and then we spiral together from there. I'm not open for that currently, but in the future perhaps.

How often do you like to ship?

I kinda wanna only ship things if it's been earned -- we put in the work, things escalated naturally, and then we're exploring the dynamic thoroughly from there instead of just jumping to the juiciest parts first. I am a patient person, Gin is too, we're not about to pounce on somebody just because they stuck their leggy up real high. I'm a previously single-ship-only kinda guy, I yearn for that commitment.

Are you multiship?

I am duo-ship at the moment, with the possibility of opening up from that in the future -- so technically yes. I approach things though with a strict refusal to write cheating, so everything is a separate verse. Gin isn't sleeping with Rangiku and then tiptoeing to Aizen's room after, I refuse to do that sort of shit. Gin's all-or-nothing and so am I, so expect that if I ever do multiship -- it'll probably not be willy-nilly, I'll be severely selective.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

Daydreaming about dynamics is my bread and butter. I'll be cooking up entire scenarios on my own while watching paint dry, my mind knows no limits and the links to musing posts/quotes/aesthetics/tiktoks that make me think of our characters together merely scratch the surface. If a ship hits right it consumes me.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

I'm a sucker for Ginran, Aigin, Ulquihime, Shunuki, Ichiruki, Grimmjow and anybody really, Ichihime, Mayuri and permanent death, Ishihime, Rangiku and genuine happiness, whatever the ship name for Urahara and Yoruichi is, Aizen and touching grass instead of committing atrocities. I could be down for Gin and Izuru, I also think Kenpachi and Byakuya make a funny / cute pair. I'd also die for the ship I have with @madestars with their OC Hotaru and Gin's daughter Keiko.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Hit me on the head with a brick irl.

tagged by : @despairforme

tagging: @dokuhai, @keikakudori, @madestars / @rejekshun, @gyakusama / @owabisuru, and anybody else!

[dumbblondesposts]

Klaroline is centered entirely around Tyler

I feel like a lot the people who hate klaroline (as they should) really don't understand the foundation of the ship which is why it's labeled as something that doesn't make sense/random, and the reason for that is the Tyler of it all.

Like of course when delusional shippers or anyone really think Klaus was actually in love with Caroline or even liked her in the first place at least initially it's easy then to label it at something that doesn't narratively make sense because it's not explained why he took interest in her , but the thing is the writers knew that which is why we have only like two to three semi subtle cues explaining the basis of the ship but it's unfortunately buried under a tons of fan service especially within the huge fan base

So basically klaroline's first interaction that sparked that cursed ship is 3x11, it's right after Tyler is first seen standing up to Klaus and showing clear rebellion against Klaus enslaving him that he first orders him the bite his girlfriend before showing up at her house etc, all that he knows about her is that she's a random "pretty" teenager which is why he's for no reason on a mission to woo her with all sorts of gifts, since basically he doesn't know shit About her, he's never shown to be physically attracted to her despite seeing her around before and only gave two fucks about her when he wanted to put Tyler in his place, then you have him almost murder her again in season 4 to "teach Tyler a lesson the hard way" and these are his words, like my guy was willing to kill her if it meant humbling Tyler💀 he Brags about how he hurt Tyler to Elijah by "sleeping with his girl", he tells Caroline he couldn't stop thinking about her but the moment they finally fuck he dips lmao??

Even throughout the whole thing Klaus is like "Tyler isn't enough for you, you want to see the world instead bla bla" because he doesn't know her or even actually cared to know her beyond what he sought from her which is literally just to put Tyler in his place and he thrived on the chase, the fact that he failed to get the teenage girl to give in , he was willing to murder her to get back at Tyler, he attempted to sexually assault her and left happy after he finally slept with her

But of course the shippers see the hot villain gift horse paintings to this random ass teenager and they go "he's so in love with her😍"

This whole rant is basically because I'm tired of Klaus's feelings for Caroline being painted as "love" among both fans and antis , I get that he at best might have developed more of a soft spot for her but that was all it was tbh , they have no moments showing actual love/no moments of Klaus taking the time of day to consider her feelings nor does he go out of his way to do anything for her, Caroline was simply a prize to be won out of his grievances with her boyfriend, if Tyler was dating any other pretty girl Klaus would've went for her for the simple fact she's Tyler's gf and he felt the need to humble him

[kawarikisaki]

Go on.

Well, so very glad you asked random stranger. I can only assume this means you're wanting to hear my other Hakuba opinions, and you're in luck because that's literally all the encouragement I need.

So I'm gonna keep this rant to my thoughts of Hakuba's second Detective Conan appearance- The Detective Koshien. Cause there are actually a few different points there that I think are noteworthy. And this is gonna dip more into speculation than my thoughts on the last one- just giving you a fair warning.

And I'll start with the dynamic displayed between Hattori and Hakuba, because damn is that interesting.

To begin with when these two meet each other, Hattori doesn't know who Hakuba is (despite Hakuba being famous enough that one of his cases in England got television coverage in Japan), but Hakuba knows who Hattori is (though he only admits to having heard about him from his father). I think this fact contributes a bit to Hakuba having a sense of superiority over Hattori for the rest of the case, just that general sense of 'I know something you don't'. Meanwhile on Hattori's side of the interaction he's riled up when Conan compares him to Hakuba, he doesn't know this guy that's trying to steal the Detective of the East role but something about his little buddy telling him that this guy and he are alike is just rubbing him the wrong way. But more on Hakuba- generally I get the feeling that the way he introduces himself in that case is his attempt to make friends with Hattori, in his own kinda socially awkward way. He takes follows up Conan's comparison and tries to point out their similarities. He brags about the number of cases he's solved to show that he's skilled, but makes sure to say a number smaller than Hattori's to not hurt the other's pride- even if he immeadietly steps on that consideration by pointing out that the number he gave was only for cases in Japan. What really seals the deal for me in terms of him trying to get along though is that when Hattori objects to Hakuba taking Shinichi's place as the 'Detective of the East' Hakuba actually concedes and suggests that Conan fill that role instead.

Then when the case actually gets started he's very by-the-books about it. Which is odd, because he doesn't really seem to be that much of a stickler for protocol any other time we see him. There are a few ways that could potentially taken; maybe it's the result of butting heads with Hattori (possible but until the case starts and their methods clash Hakuba doesn't seem to actually have anything against Hattori)... maybe he's just been retconned a bit to have another trait to differentiate him from others (possible, but not really necessary)- instead I prefer to think that perhaps this is how he normally treats cases, after all this is also the only time we see him on a case that Kid isn't involved with and unfortunately we probably won't get another example anytime soon. So if we run with that assumption then Hakuba is normally the rules lawyer of detectives, but something about Kid cases in particular have caused him to loosen up, whether that's because he felt like he was being looked down on the first time (being given the case by his father in an attempt to knock him down a peg) or if it's just because he very quickly realized that going by the books would make him far too predictable to ever be a threat to Kid, so he had to adapt. (This post isn't about Kid though it'll be long enough just talking about the detective Koshien, but I do ship HakuKai/SaguKai, so uh... yeah let the bias be known, I have motives for tying all of Hakuba's interactions/relationships back to Kid.)

Annnnywaaay.

Despite Hakuba and Hattori butting heads on how to go about doing things, they work together well. Sharing information and actually trusting each other pretty easily. Hakuba complains about Hattori's methods but it comes from a place of wanting to ensure that the case gets solved with as little margin for error as possible.

I'd also like to point out that Hakuba is actually shown to use a pocket notebook to write down details of the case such as times that different people left a room (Counted down to the millisecond), and a rough schematic of the building they're in. We often see Conan writing down codes and such, but this instance of someone having recorded detailed alibis and case notes is (as far as I remember at least) unique to Hakuba. Realistically this is just because it's good to have a tangible record of such things, but this also paints him as being somewhat paranoid to be keeping track of others alibis so closely just in case something happens. Additionally I like to headcanon that maybe he does this because his memory isn't as strong as some of the other detectives we see (both Shinichi and Hattori being shown to have eidetic memories), there's really no evidence for this aside from him having a notebook and others not but It's a headcanon I like to play with.

Last thing I really want to point out about this case is probably the most obvious one, but it still bears mentioning... and that is the conclusion that Hakuba jumped to. He figures out that someone in the group is stealing and with almost no evidence linking them to the murder assumes they did it. Purely because after so long chasing Kid Theif=Culprit in his head, and when this is pointed out to him he actually smiles, because he realizes that because he made that connection he got tunnel vision and behaved almost as recklessly as he'd scolded Hattori for. This one ties back to that bit before that I said about how I think Hakuba might take a by-the-books approach normally but something about Kid makes him abandon that because you can almost see him switch modes in the moment when Conan and Hattori both call him out. Annnnd that's probably enough for this ramble.