#literally flipping the bird at everything

[ballsandbabes]

Haikyuu Captains seeing their crush playing volleyball at the beach

Genre: Fluff, haikyuu characters x reader (crush)

Authors Note: Not proof read// y/n = your name //reader is gender neutral.

Daichi Sawamura

Karasuno's annual summer beach trip was meant to be a team bonding experience, at least that was, what Daichi invisioned. You know, the kind with grilled corn, competitive water balloon fights, and Tanaka trying to surf using a cafeteria tray. What Daichi hadn't expected was to see you—his long-time-will-not-talk-but-always-stare crush—already on the beach volleyball court, absolutely dominating a match against some overly confident college kids.

You moved with this mix of power and grace that had Daichi's brain short-circuiting like Kageyama's when Hinata says something vaguely philosophical. The blue arena swimsuit with the orange edges looks great on you. Your skin literally glowed under the golden light of the midday sun.

"Oh," Daichi said, blinking behind his sunglasses. "They're… uh. Playing."

"Playing as in: spiking like a pro," Asahi muttered beside him, wide-eyed. "Holy crap, Daichi, are they in a club or something?"

Tanaka and Nishinoya had already sprinted over to the sidelines to cheer obnoxiously. "YOU GOT THIS Y/N, YOUR A BEACH MVP!!" Nishinoya screamed. Daichi froze when you waved at him between points. It was innocent, friendly, casual. He died a little.

"Go talk to them, Cap," Sugawara teased, elbowing him. "Before Tanaka proposes on the spot."

"I–I’m not going to just—interrupt," Daichi said, flustered. "They're in the zone!"

"Sure," Suga said. "That’s what we’re calling you staring like a Labrador now."

When your game ended (with you victorious, obviously), you walked over, towel slung around your neck, cheeks flushed with sun and effort.

"Didn’t expect to see you here, Daichi," you said, giving him a playful nudge. "Didn’t expect to be spied on, either."

"I'm not—I wasn't—" He stumbled over the sand and his own words. "I wasn’t spying, I swear! We just got here and, uh, surprise beach volleyball!" He finger-gunned. No one had ever looked more tragically awkward.

"You play?" you asked, amused.

"Yeah! I mean, yes. Team captain. Karasuno. Birds. Jumping. We’re all birds." He blinked. "I can dig."

Kageyama leaned over to Hinata and whispered, "He’s broken.". Kageyama and Hinata watched the chaos unfold. "Completely gone," Hinata agreed, nodding solemnly. But you just laughed. "Well, come on then, captain. Let’s see what the birds got. You’re on my team."

Tanaka collapsed to his knees. "Nooooooooo—Daichi gets everything!!". With you and Daichi on one side, and the rest of Karasuno chaotically smushed onto the other, a new match began. It was sand, spikes, and shouted strategies like “Hinata, don’t dive headfirst into the ocean!”

Daichi, for all his cool-headed leadership, couldn’t hide the fact that every time you high-fived him, he lit up like the summer sun. And when you praised his perfect receive?

He blushed so hard Suga had to call a timeout just to let him recover.

Tōru Oikawa

The sun was blazing, the ocean sparkled, and Oikawa Tooru was in his natural habitat: shirtless, smug, and surrounded by squealing fans. A flock of beachgoers, mostly girls, had recognized the “famous” setter from Aoba Johsai and were fawning appropriately: “Captain Oikawa, can I get a picture with you?” or “Can you sign my beach ball?”. One girl even asked, “Oikawa, do you have a girlfriend? Are you single? Are we dating now?”

He flashed his dazzling smile, gave a few flirty winks, and flipped his hair dramatically. Iwaizumi groaned from his towel. “Ugh...You’re not an idol, Tooru.”

“Of course I’m not,” Oikawa said, striking a peace-sign pose. “I’m a phenomenon, duh.”

But then his eyes landed on you, playing a pickup game a little ways down the beach. You, who didn’t even glance his way. You, who just pulled off a one-handed receive like it was nothing. You, who wore sunscreen like war paint and looked way too good smacking down a spike on someone three inches taller. He short-circuited. “Oh.”

Iwaizumi followed his gaze, then groaned again. “Not this again.”

"They’re so cool,” Oikawa whispered, as if discovering fire. “They’re literally just playing volleyball....you havent even spoken to them", Iwaizumi said to him slightly annoyed.

“Beautifully. Like a beach spirit summoned from my dreams.”, Oikawa swooned. He suddenly stood up, sending a girl on his lap flopping onto the sand. “Excuse me, ladies—I must chase destiny.”

You wiped your brow and looked up to see Oikawa Tooru, beach volleyball flirt legend, jogging toward you like some sort of overly dramatic Baywatch cast member. Hair glinting. Sunglasses too expensive. Ego palpable.

“Hellooo~” he sang, skidding to a halt near your game. “I couldn’t help but notice your form.”

“Excuse me....what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Volleyball form! Superb receive. Beautiful footwork. Majestic spike. I’m Oikawa Tooru, former Grand King of Aoba Johsai, current deity of setting, humble servant to talent.”, he said while checking you out. You blinked. “...Are you okay?”

“I will be,” he said, flipping his hair. “If you let me set to you. Just once.”

His fangirls watched with confusion from a distance. Who was this volleyball gremlin that had stolen Oikawa’s attention so completely? You shrugged. “Fine. But if it’s a bad set, I’m spiking you instead.”

Iwaizumi cackled from the sidelines. “Please do.”

To his credit, Oikawa’s set was flawless. Feather-light, perfect height, made just for you. Your spike? Even better. It knocked Tanaka’s coconut drink out of his hand three umbrellas away. Oikawa clutched his heart. “I’m in love.”

“I warned you,” you said, grinning. As he recovered from the impact (both emotional and literal), Oikawa pointed dramatically toward the sky.

“Iwa-chan,” he called. “Cancel the rest of my fan meetings. I’ve found the one.” Iwaizumi just buried his face in his beach towel, “Someone save me from this idiot.”

Tetsurō Kuroo

“Beach day, huh?” Kuroo muttered, digging his toes into the sand. The Nekoma team had arrived early for their training-slash-bonding-slash-Kenma-is-holding-his-Switch-on-a-beach-chair day. There was sunscreen, cooler boxes, and Yamamoto trying (and failing) to do push-ups in the sand to impress someone who wasn’t looking.

“Are we actually going to play or just fry out here?” Kai asked, stretching. “Depends,” Kuroo said lazily, “on whether someone shows up and makes things interesting.”

Someone did....You. You weren’t flashy. You weren’t spiking balls into orbit like Hinata. You didn’t serve like a cannon or block like a wall. But damn if you didn’t go for every ball like your life depended on it.

Kuroo watched from under his sunglasses, elbow resting on his knee, an amused smirk on his face. At first, it was pure curiosity. You dove for shanked passes. You pancaked balls no one else would’ve bothered with. You popped back up with sand in your hair and zero complaints.

“Who’s that?” he asked, leaning toward Kai. “No idea,” Kai said. “But they’re working hard.”

“Look at that form,” Kuroo mused. “It’s… like a baby giraffe learning to walk. But make it volleyball.”

“Pretty sure they just fell trying to serve,” Yamamoto added helpfully. You got back up. Again. Wiped your face. Laughed at yourself. Tried again. Kuroo watched as you completely missed a dig, rolled gracelessly, popped up, and immediately asked your teammate how you could fix your positioning. Like nothing phased you.

He was riveted. “Bro,” Yamamoto said, nudging him, “why are you smiling like that? That ball just hit them in the head.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo said, standing. “I think I’m in love.”

He wandered over, casual as ever, and leaned on the net while you were catching your breath. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth. “Nice hustle. You okay? That last one sounded like it hit pretty hard.”

You blinked, surprised. “Uhm yeah, I’m good?!. I think the ball's... fine too.”

He laughed. “You always play like that?”

“Like what?”, you asked confused. “Like you’re auditioning for a volleyball action movie.”, Kuroo smiled with happy eyes. You grinned. “Guess I just don’t like giving up on points.”

Kuroo tilted his head. “That’s kind of hot.” You choked on your water.

“I mean,” he corrected, deadpan, “in a purely athletic, deeply respectable, I-admire-your-ethics kind of way.”

“You’re terrible at saving face,” you said, smirking.

“Thanks,” Kuroo replied. “I practice.”

You both ended up playing a match together—where Kuroo whispered pointers to you, teased you endlessly, but also gave you genuine tips and high-fived you like you were already on his team. At one point you dove straight into the sand for a save, got up with seaweed stuck in your hair, and shouted, “I got it!” Kuroo looked at you like you were starlight incarnate.

“Yep,” he said to no one in particular. “Definitely in love.”

Back at their beach tent, Kenma didn’t even look up from his Switch. “He’s doomed.”

Kaname Moniwa

Moniwa hadn't expected much from this beach trip—just a relaxed day with the Date Tech boys, maybe some casual volleyball, probably Tanaka-level sunscreen disasters. He’d packed responsibly, brought extra towels, and even reminded Futakuchi twice to behave. So naturally, the first thing Futakuchi did was cannonball into the ocean while screaming, “COLD SHOWER SPEEDRUN!”

But Moniwa was used to it. What he wasn’t used to… was you. He spotted you on the court next to theirs—playing in a small, friendly match. You weren’t the strongest, and your serve looked like it barely made it over the net half the time. But you chased every ball, laughed when you stumbled, and clapped for your teammates even when you completely missed a receive.

And something about that just… got to him. You were trying so hard. Not because anyone was watching. Not for praise. Just for the love of it.

“She’s cute,” Futakuchi said, nudging him. “They’re cute,” Moniwa corrected softly, eyes never leaving you. “And they’re amazing.”

“Amazing? They just face-planted.”

“I mean the way they keep going.”

Moniwa kept watching as you dove (a little too dramatically) for a save and rolled through the sand, hair wild and smile wide. You brushed yourself off and jogged back into position like nothing happened. His heart fluttered. Like, actually fluttered. Something in him clicked: That’s the kind of teammate I’d always want. Or maybe… the kind of person I’d want to share my sunscreen with forever?

Later, as the sun lowered and everyone was grabbing water or snacks, he finally worked up the courage to walk over. “Hey,” he said gently, holding out a water bottle like a peace offering. “You were really inspiring out there.” You blinked. “Inspiring? I just fell trying to pass a serve.”

“Yeah,” he said, cheeks a little pink, “but then you got up. Smiling. And didn’t stop trying once. That’s… a lot more impressive than someone who just wins easily.”

You tilted your head. “You’re sweet.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I try.” There was a pause. Not awkward. Just soft. “You play too?” you asked. He nodded. “Yeah. I'm a setter. Captain, actually. Date Tech.” You lit up. “Whoa, the Iron Wall school?”. He laughed. “Guilty. We can be a bit intense.”

You smiled. “You don’t seem intense.”

“I’m only scary if someone forgets to hydrate or wears too little sunscreen,” he said, offering you a perfectly unopened mini bottle of SPF 50. You took it, laughing. “So... if I played with you guys, would I survive?”. He smiled, warm and earnest. “With how hard you try? You’d thrive.” The two of you ended up rallying together as the sky turned golden. His sets were careful and perfect—tailored to your pace. He cheered when you made contact and never once laughed when you missed. He even clapped when your serve made it over the net with the world's slowest arc.

“You did it!” he said, genuinely delighted. You beamed. “I did do it!”. By the end of it, you were both sandy, a little sunburnt, and sitting side by side watching the waves.

“I like playing with you,” you said softly. He turned to you, eyes gentle and full of something almost too big for words. “Me too. I like… just being with you.”

Your hands brushed. Then, slowly, sweetly, he reached over and held yours. Neither of you said anything. You didn’t have to.

Kōtarō Bokuto

They were free. FREE. The coach actually gave them the day off. The boys have been either in the library, the classrooms or in the sports hall for the last few weeks: exam week. Pure stress. When Akaashi, of all people, suggested spending the rest of the day on the beach, Bokuto was already equipped with his towel and flip-flops.

So when the boys arrived, Kotarō had two goals for his beach day:

Win every game of beach volleyball.

Look cool doing it.

He was halfway through both when you happened. You strolled up during his fourth game, looking unimpressed as he struck a dramatic pose after spiking the ball so hard it scared a seagull. “Alright, alright,” you said, arms crossed, “we get it. You can jump.” Bokuto blinked. “Um. Yeah. I can! I’m amazing in the air! You got a problem with that?”

“Only if your ego takes up both sides of the net.”

His eyes widened like you just challenged him to a duel. “You wanna play against me?” You shrugged. “Sure. Someone has to knock that smug look off your face.” Atsumu—who had been lying nearby, trying to nap—perked up. “Ohhh. This is gonna be good.”

And good it was. You weren’t the strongest player. But you were smart. You read his moves. You blocked his spikes—twice. You trash-talked him mid-rally and somehow made him mess up a serve because you called him “feather-brain” right as he tossed the ball.

“I AM A MAJESTIC EAGLE!!” Bokuto shouted. “Eagles don’t hit the net,” you replied sweetly.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK.” The two of you bickered through the entire match. “I bet your vertical’s just hair volume.”, you snickered. “At least I don’t grunt every time I jump like it’s a shonen anime fight.”, he shouted back in a funny manner.

“I DO NOT— okay maybe a little—BUT IT’S INTENTIONAL!!”

But what no one else noticed—except maybe Akaashi, sitting under an umbrella with his usual knowing smirk—was the way Bokuto kept grinning. Not in his usual “I’m the coolest!” way.

In a you’re so fun I don’t even care that I’m losing to you a little bit way. The game ended in a messy, sand-filled scramble. You both flopped to the ground, laughing and breathless. “I let you win,” Bokuto panted dramatically.“You tripped over your own foot.”, you stated sassily.

“It was a tactical stumble.”

You turned to him, squinting through the sun. “You’re a disaster.” He turned to you, grinning wide, cheeks pink but not from the heat. “Yeah… but I’m your disaster now, right?”....You blinked. “Did you just confess in the sand with seaweed in your hair?” He scrambled up, flustered. “WAIT—did I?! That wasn’t supposed to come out like—”

You pulled a stray shell out of his hair. “Good. ‘Cause I was gonna do it if you didn’t.”

His jaw dropped. Then he puffed up, beaming. “HOOT HOOT! THAT’S A WIN FOR ME AFTER ALL!”

Akaashi sighed from afar. “There it is.”

Wakatoshi Ushijima

Ushijima Wakatoshi did not like the beach. Too much sand. Too much sun. Too many people kicking volleyballs without control or honor. But Tendō promised him “team bonding,” and Semi bribed him with a post-beach steak, so there he was—stoic, shirtless, and mildly confused by the whole “flip-flops” concept.

And then he saw you. You were playing in a small beach volleyball match nearby, seemingly with your friends. Your form wasn’t perfect, but you were focused, composed, and stubborn. When you messed up, you just nodded, adjusted, and tried again. Ushijima squinted, like you were a very confusing instruction manual.

“I believe they are... admirable,” he said to Shirabu. Tendō grinned while looking at Wakatoshi, “Ohhhh no. Wakatoshi’s in love.”

“I am not,” Ushijima said blankly. “I just find them captivating. That is different.”

“Sure it is, buddy.”

Meanwhile, you had spotted him—the tall, serious powerhouse with the kind of arms that could probably lift a car and zero facial expression, spotting you.

“He’s kinda hot,” you mumbled to your friend. "Uhm, yes y/n. Very hot. Have you seen how tall he is," your friend said excitedly. "Go talk to him...like immediatly". She shoved you to walkt toward him. But then...he walked over. Like. Directly over. Staring.

“You,” Ushijima said. You blinked. “Me?”

“I would like to volley with you.”, he said plainly. “…That was a sentence,” you said slowly. “I mean. Play. I would like to play beach volleyball with you. Together. As a pair.”

“Like… a team?”, you asked confused. “Yes,” he said. “But also… emotionally.”

You stared. Huh? What does he mean???....He stared back. “Uhmm…Are you trying to flirt with me???” you asked.

“I believe I am,” he replied with the intensity of someone discussing crop yields. You flushed, unsure whether to laugh or run into the ocean. “Okay,” you said instead. “But if we lose, you owe me a smoothie.”

Ushijima tilted his head. “Is that flirting?”

“...Maybe?”, you smiled softly. Tendō, Semi, and Goshiki were watching like it was the world’s slowest romance anime. “Do I clap now or…?” Semi whispered. “I think they’re both trying to flirt,” Goshiki said, sweating. “But it’s like… watching two rocks bump into each other until one falls over.”

Then the game began: You tried to impress him with a diving save. Ushijima deadpanned, “That was adequate. You could have dislocated your shoulder.” You tried to wink. You blinked both eyes. He tried to call you "cool" and ended up saying, “You remind me of a strong tree.”

“Oh...then what kind of tree?!”, you tried to keep the conversation going. “A sturdy one. Very upright.”, he said as if he were giving a presentation. You thought you might actually explode, what ever you tried...he seemed immune to your (bad) flirting. At match point, he jumped and spiked the ball so hard it bounced off someone's cooler. You cheered. “That was amazing!”

He turned to you and, without hesitation, said, “You are the best thing that has happened to me since protein shakes.”

The silence was deafening. “I mean,” he added after a pause, “in terms of connection. Not digestion.” You burst out laughing so hard you had to bend over.

“I accept your weird tree love,” you wheezed.

“I am… relieved.”

From the sidelines, Tendō sighed dreamily. “I’m gonna cry. They're terrible at this. But it’s sooo beautiful.”

[cannibalhellhound]

More beach wings au

This time it's Ice carrying Mav 😼

[what-even-is-sleep]

Can’t wait for my drivers license to arrive so I can be driving legally again for the first time in 1.5 years!

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 66

Chapter; Highlights, etc. (you know the drill😂)

Aelin awoke to the scent of pine and snow, and knew she was home.

Not in Terrasen, not yet, but in the sense she would always be home, if Rowan was with her.

His steady breaths filled her right ear, the sound of the well and truly asleep, and the arm he'd draped across her middle was a solid, warm weight. Silvery light glazed the ancient stones of the ceiling.

Morning—or a cloudy day. The halls beyond the room offered shards of sound that she sorted through, piece by piece, as if she were assembling a broken mirror that might reveal the world beyond

Apparently, it had been three days since the battle. And the rest of the khagan's army, led by Prince Kashin, his third-eldest son, had arrived.

It was that tidbit that had her rising fully to consciousness, a hand sliding to Rowan's arm.

A caress of a touch, just to see how deeply the rejuvenating sleep held him. Three days, they'd slept here, unaware of the world. A dangerous, vulnerable time for any magic-wielder, when their bodies demanded a deep sleep to recover from expending so much power.

That was another sliver she'd picked up: Gavriel sat outside their door. In mountain lion form. People drew quiet when they approached, not realizing that as soon as they passed him, their whispers of That strange, terrifying cat could be detected by Fae ears.

Aelin ran a finger over the seam of Rowan's sleeve, feeling the corded muscle beneath. Clear her head, her body felt clear. Like the first icy breath inhaled on a winter's morning.

During the days they'd slept, no nightmare had shaken her awake, hunted her. A small, merciful reprieve.

Aelin swallowed, her throat dry. What had been real, what Maeve had tried to plant in her mind-did it matter, whether the pain had been true or imagined?

She had gotten out, gotten away from Maeve and Cairn. Facing the broken bits inside her would come later.

For now, it was enough to have this clarity back. Even though releasing her power, expending that mighty blow here, had not been her plan.

Aelin slid her gaze toward Rowan, his harsh face softened into handsomeness by sleep. And clean—the gore that had splattered them both was gone. Someone must have washed it away while they slept.

As if he sensed her attention, or just felt the lingering hand on his arm, Rowan's eyes cracked open. He scanned her from head to toe, deemed everything all right, and met her stare.

"Show-off," he muttered.

Aelin patted his arm. "You put on a pretty fancy display yourself, Prince."

He smiled, his tattoo crinkling. "Will that display be the last of your surprises, or are there more coming?"

She debated it-telling him, revealing it.

Maybe.

Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him.

Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest?

She snorted, propping her head with a fist as she traced idle marks over the scratchy blanket.

"I sent a letter-when we were at that port in Wendlyn."

Rowan nodded. "To Aedion."

"To Aedion," she said, quietly enough that Gavriel couldn't hear from his spot outside the door. "And to your uncle. And to Essar." Rowan's brows rose. "Saying what?" She hummed to herself. "Saying that I was indeed imprisoned by Maeve, and that while 1 was her captive, she laid out some rather nefarious plans."

Her mate went still. "With what goal in mind?"

Aelin sat up, and picked at her nails.

"Convincing them to disband her army. Start a revolt in Doranelle. Kick Maeve off the throne. You know, small things."

Rowan just looked at her. Then scrubbed at his face. "You think a letter could do that?"

"It was strongly worded." He gaped a bit. "What sort of nefarious plans did you mention?"

"Desire to conquer the world, her complete lack of interest in sparing Fae lives in a war, her interest in Valg things." She swallowed. "I might have mentioned that she's possibly Valg."

Rowan started. Aelin shrugged. "It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth."

"Suggesting Maeve is Valg is a fairly outlandish lie, even for you. Even if it turned out to be true."

She waved a hand. "We'll see if anything comes of it."

"If it works, if they somehow revolt and the army turns against her..." He shook his head, laughing softly. "It'd be a boon in this war."

"I scheme and lie so grandly, and that's all the credit I get?"

Rowan flicked her nose. "You'll get credit if her army doesn't show up. Until then, we prepare as if they are. Which is highly likely." At her frown, he said, "Essar doesn't wield much power, and my uncle doesn't take many risks. Not like Enda and Sellene. For them to overthrow Maeve ... it would be monumental. If they even survived it."

Her stomach churned. "It's their choice, what they do. I only laid out the facts." Carefully worded facts and half guesses. An absolute gamble, if she was being honest.

Rowan smirked. "And other than attempting to overthrow Maeve's throne? Any other surprises I should know about?"

Her smile faded as she lay back down, Rowan doing the same beside her. "There are no more." At his raised brows, she added, "I swear it on my throne. There are no more left."

The amusement in his eyes guttered. "I don't know whether to be relieved."

"Everything I know, you know. All the cards are on the table now."

With the various armies that had gathered, with the Lock, with all of it.

"Do you think you could do it again?" he asked. "Draw up that much power?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It required being ... contained. With the irons."

A shadow darkened his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping up his head. "I've never seen anything like it."

"You never will again." It was the truth.

"If the cost of that much power is what you endured, then I'll be glad not to."

Aelin ran a hand down the powerful muscles of his thigh, fingers snagging in the rip of fabric just above his knee. "I didn't feel you get this wound through the mating bond," she said, grazing the thick ridge of the new scar. A trophy from the battle. She made herself meet his piercing stare. Did Maeve somehow break that part of it? That part of us?

"No," he breathed, and stroked the hair from her brow. "I've realized that the bond only conveys the pain of the gravest wounds."

She touched the spot on his shoulder where Asterin Blackbeak's arrow had pierced him all those months ago. The moment she'd known what he was to her.

"It was why I didn't know what was happening to you on the beach," Rowan said roughly. Because the whipping, brutal and unbearable as it had been, hadn't brought her to the brink of death. Only into an iron coffin.

She scowled. "If you're about to tell me that you feel guilty for it—"

"We both have things to grapple with—about what happened these months."

A glance at him, and she knew he was well aware of what still clouded her soul.

And because he was the only person who saw everything she was and did not walk away from it, Aelin said, "I wanted that fire to be for Maeve."

"I know." Such simple words, and yet it meant everything-that understanding.

"I wanted it to make things ... better." She loosed a long breath. "To wipe it all away." Every memory and nightmare and lie.

"It will take a while, Aelin. To face it, work through it."

"I don't have a while."

His jaw tensed. "That remains to be seen." She didn't bother arguing. Not as she admitted, "I want it to be over."

He went wholly still, but granted her the space to think, to speak.

"I want it to be over and done with," she said hoarsely. "This war, the gods and the Wyrdgate and the Lock. All of it." She rubbed her temples, pushing past the weight, the lingering stain that no fire might cleanse. "I want to go to Terrasen, to fight, and then I want it to be over."

She'd wanted it to be over since she'd learned the true cost of forging the Lock anew.

Had wanted it to be over with each of Cairn's lashes on the beach in Eyllwe. And all he'd done to her afterward. Whatever it might bring about, however it might end, she wanted it to be over.

She didn't know who and what it made her.

Rowan remained silent for a long moment before he said, "Then we will make sure the khagan's host goes north. Then we will return to Terrasen and crush Erawan's armies." He brought her hands to his mouth for a swift kiss.

"And then, after all that, we'll see about this damned Lock." Uncompromising will filled his every breath, the air around them.

She let it be enough for both of them.

Tucked away his words, his vow, all those promises between them and extended her palm in the air between them.

She summoned the magic-the drop of water her mother's bloodline had given her.

Mab's bloodline.

A tiny ball of water took form in her hand. Over the calluses she'd so carefully rebuilt.

She let the gentle, cooling power trickle over her. Let it smooth the jagged bits inside herself and sing them to sleep. Her mother's gift.

You do not yield.

When the Lock took everything, would it claim this part as well? This most precious part of her power? She tucked away those thoughts, too.

Concentrating, gritting her teeth, Aelin commanded the ball of water to rotate in her palm.

A wobble was all she got in answer.

She snorted. "Faerie Queen of the West indeed."

Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. "Keep practicing. In a thousand years, you might actually be able to do something with it."

She whacked his arm, the droplet of water soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. "It's a wonder I learned anything from you with that sort of encouragement." She shook the wetness from her hand. Right into his face.

Rowan nipped at her nose. "I do keep a tally, Princess. Of all the horrible things that come out of your mouth."

Her toes curled, and she dragged her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the silken strands. "How shall I pay for this one?"

On the other side of the door, she could have sworn that cat-soft feet quickly padded away.

People gawked in the halls, some whispering as they passed.

The queen and her consort. Where do you think they've been these past few days?

I heard they went into the mountains and brought the wild men back with them.

I heard they've been weaving spells around the city, to protect it against Morath.

Rowan was still smirking when Aelin emerged from the communal ladies' bathing room.

"See?" She fell into step beside him as they aimed not for their room and ravishment, but for the hallway where food had been laid out.

"You're starting to like the notoriety."

Rowan arched a brow. "You think that everywhere I've gone for the past three hundred years, whispers haven't followed me?" She rolled her eyes, but he chuckled. "This is far better than Cold-hearted bastard or I heard he killed someone with a table leg."

"You did kill someone with a table leg." Rowan's smirk grew.

"And you are a cold-hearted bastard," she threw in.

Rowan snorted. "I never said those whispers were lies."

Aelin looped her arm through his. "I'm going to start a rumor about you, then. Something truly grotesque."

He groaned. "I dread the thought of what you might come up with."

She adopted a harsh whisper as they passed a group of human soldiers. "You flew back onto the battlefield to peck out the eyes of our enemies?" Her gasp echoed off the rock. "And ate those eyes?"

One of the soldiers tripped, the others whipping their heads to them. Rowan pinched her shoulder. "Thank you for that."

She inclined her head. "You're very welcome."

Aelin kept smiling as they found food and ate a quick lunch-it was midday, they'd learned-sitting side by side in a dusty, half-forgotten stairwell. Much like the days they'd spent in Mistward, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen while listening to Emrys's stories.

Though unlike those months this spring, when Aelin set down her plate between her feet, she slid her arms around Rowan's neck and his mouth instantly met hers.

No, it was certainly not at all like their time at Mistward as she crawled into Rowan's lap, not entirely caring that anyone might stride up or down the stairs, and kissed him silly.

They halted, breathless and wild-eyed, before she could decide that it really wouldn't be a bad idea…

… If Aelin was being honest with herself, she was still debating hauling him into the nearest closet when they set off to find their companions at last. One glance at Rowan's glazed eyes and she knew he was debating the same.

Yet even the desire heating her blood cooled when they entered the ancient study near the top of the keep and beheld the gathered group. Fenrys and Gavriel were already there, Chaol with them, no sign of Elide or Lorcan.

But Chaol's father, unfortunately, was present. And glowered as they entered the meeting that seemed well under way. Aelin gave him a mocking smile and sauntered up to the large desk.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with Nesryn, Sartaq, and Hasar, handsome and brimming with a sort of impatient energy. His brown eyes were welcoming, his smile easy.

She liked him immediately.

"My brother," Hasar said, waving a hand without looking up from the map. "Kashin." The prince sketched a graceful bow.

Aelin offered one back, Rowan doing the same. "An honor," Aelin said. "Thank you for coming."

"You can actually thank my father for that. And Yrene," said Kashin, his use of their language as flawless as his siblings'.

Indeed, Aelin had much to thank the healer for.

Nesryn's sharp eyes scanned Aelin from head to toe. "You're feeling all right?"

"Just needed to rest." Aelin jerked her chin at Rowan. "He requires frequent naps in his old age."

Sartaq coughed, keeping his head down as he continued studying the map.

Fenrys, however, laughed. "Back to your good spirits, I see."

Aelin smirked at Chaol's straight-backed father. "We'll see how long it lasts."

The man said nothing.

Rowan motioned to the desk and asked the royals, "Have you decided-where you shall march now?"

Such a casual, calm question. As if the fate of Terrasen did not rest upon it.

Hasar opened her mouth, but Sartaq cut her off. "North. We shall indeed go north with you. If only to repay you for saving our army-our people."

Aelin tried not to look too relieved.

"Gratitude aside," Hasar said, not sounding very grateful at all, "Kashin's scouts have confirmed that Terrasen is where Morath is concentrating its efforts. So it is there that we shall go."

Aelin wished she had not eaten such a large lunch. "How bad is it?"

Nesryn shook her head, answering for Prince Kashin, "The details were murky. All we know is that hordes were spotted marching northward, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake."

Aelin kept her fists at her sides, avoiding the urge to rub at her face.

Chaol's father said, "I hope that power of yours can be summoned again."

Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. "Thank you for the armor," she crooned.

"Consider it an early coronation gift," the Lord of Anielle countered with a mocking smile.

Sartaq cleared his throat. "If you and your companions are recovered, then we'll press northward as soon as we are able." No objections from Hasar at that.

"And march along the mountains?" Rowan asked, scanning the map. Aelin traced the route they'd follow. "We'd have to pass directly before the Ferian Gap. We'll barely clear the other end of this lake before we're in another battle."

"So we draw them out," Hasar said. "Trick them into emptying whatever forces wait in the Gap, then sneak up on them from behind."

"Adarlan controls the entire Avery," Chaol said, drawing an invisible line inland from Rifthold. "To pass north, we have to cross that river anyway. In picking the Gap as our battleground, we'll avoid the mess that would come with fighting in the midst of Oakwald. The ruks, at least, would be able to provide aerial coverage. Not so with the trees."

Rowan nodded. "We'd need to march the majority of the host up into the mountains, then—to come at the Gap from where they'd least expect it. It's rough terrain, though. We'll need to pick our route carefully."

Chaol's father grumbled. Aelin lifted her brows, but his son answered, "I sent out emissaries the day after the battle-into the Fangs. To contact the wild men who live there, if they might know of secret ways through the mountains to the Gap."

Ancient enemies of this city. "And?"

"They do. But at a cost."

"One that shall not be paid," the Lord of Anielle snapped.

"Let me guess: territory," Aelin said.

Chaol nodded. Hence the tension in this room.

She tapped a toot as she surveyed the Lord of Anielle. "And you won't give one sliver of land to them?"

He just glared.

"Apparently not," Fenrys muttered

Aelin shrugged, and turned to Chaol. "Well, it's settled, then."

"What is settled?" his father ground out.

Aelin ignored him, and winked at her friend. "You're the Hand to the King of Adarlan. You outrank him. You're authorized to act on Dorian's behalf." She gestured to the map. "The land might be a part of Anielle, but it belongs to Adarlan. Go ahead and barter it."

His father started. "You—"

"We are going north," Aelin said. "You will not stand in our way." She again let some of her fire kindle in her eyes, set the gold in them burning. "I halted that wave. Consider this alliance with the wild men a way to repay the favor."

"That wave destroyed half my city," the man snarled.

Fenrys let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Rowan snarled softly.

Chaol growled at his father, "You're bastard."

"Watch your tongue, boy."

Aelin nodded sympathetically to Chaol. "I see why you left."

Chaol, to his credit, winced and returned to the map. "If we can get past the Ferian Gap, then we continue northward."

Past Endovier. That path would take them right past Endovier. Aelin's stomach tightened. Rowan's hand grazed her own.

"We have to decide soon," Sartaq declared.

"Right now, we sit between the Ferian Gap and Morath. It would be very easy for Erawan to send hosts to crush us between them."

Hasar turned to Chaol. "Is Yrene anywhere near done?"

He leaned an elbow against the arm of his wheeled chair. "Even with the few survivors, there are too many of them. We'd be here weeks."

"How many injured?" Rowan asked.

Chaol shook his head. "Not injured." His jaw tightened. "Valg."

Aelin frowned. "Yrene's healing the Valg?"

Hasar grinned. "In a manner of speaking."

Aelin waved her off. "Can I see?"

They found Yrene not in the keep, but in a tent on the remnants of the battlefield, leaning over a human man thrashing upon a cot. The man had been restrained to anchors in the floor at his wrists and ankles.

Aelin took one look at those chains and had to swallow.

Rowan laid a hand on her lower back, and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.

Yrene paused, her hands wreathed in white light. Borte, sword out, lingered nearby.

"Is something wrong?" Yrene asked, the glow in her hands fading. The man sagged, going boneless as the healer's assault on the demon inside him halted.

Chaol steered his chair closer to her, the wheels equipped for rougher terrain. "Aelin and her companions want a demonstration. If you're up for it."

Yrene smoothed back the hair that had escaped her braid. "It's not really anything that you can see. What happens is beneath the skin—mind to mind."

"You go up against Valg demons directly," Fenrys said with no small amount of awe.

"They're hateful, cowardly wretches." Yrene crossed her arms and scowled at the man tied to the cot. "Utterly pathetic," she spat toward him—the demon inside him.

The man hissed. Yrene only smiled. The man—the demon-whimpered.

Aelin blinked, unsure whether to laugh or fall to her knees. "Show me. Do whatever it is you do, but show me."

Borte said, "It's not very exciting with them tied down, is it?"

Sartaq threw her an exasperated glare. As if this were a conversation they'd already had many times. "You can be on mucking duty, if you'd prefer."

Borte rolled her eyes, but turned to Aelin, looking her over with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate. "Any other missions for me?"

Aelin grinned. "Not yet. Soon, perhaps." Borte grinned right back. "Please. Please spare me from the tedium of this."

"And you believe them?" Fenrys asked.

Hasar patted the hilt of her fine sword. "Our interrogators are skilled at retrieving the truth."

Aelin ignored the roiling in her stomach.

"So you free them," Gavriel said, silent for minutes now, "and then torture them?"

"This is war," Hasar said simply. "We leave them able to function. But we will not risk sparing their lives only to find a new army at our backs."

"Some willingly joined Erawan," Chaol said quietly. "Some willingly took the ring. Yrene can tell, when she's in there, who wanted it or not. She doesn't bother to save those who gladly knelt. So most of those she does save were either fools or taken forcibly."

"Some want to fight for us," Sartaq said.

"Those who pass our vetting process are allowed to begin training with the foot soldiers. Not many of them, but a few." Fine. Fine, and fine.

Yrene gasped, her light flaring bright enough that Aelin squinted.

Yrene slumped back, Chaol shooting out an arm to brace her. The healer only took a perch on the arm of his chair, a hand on her heaving chest.

Aelin gave her a moment to catch her breath. To manage such a feat was remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.

Yrene said to no one in particular, "That demon didn't want to go."

"But it's gone now?" Aelin asked

Yene pointed to the man on the cot, now opening his eyes. Brown, not black, gazed upward.

"Thank you," was all the man said, his voice raw.

And human. Utterly human.

[rum-inspector]

So tumblr has now rolled lives for my account too and reading their rules..

MIDDLE FINGER IS BANNED I REPEAT DO NOT FLIP THE BIRD on live IT IS VERY VERY BAD IT IS LITERALLY SAME AS IF YOU GOT FULLY NAKED AND WOOP WOOP HANKY PANKY BOJOINK WITH AN EQUALLY NUDE PARTNER ON THE STREAM I REPEAT HIDE YOUR MIDDLE FINGERS PUT THEM AWAY PUT THEN AWAY NOW A CHILD COULD SEE AN OBSCENE FINGER ON TUNGLR DOT COM

I realized from lot of tags and comments lot of you are unaware that the underlying issue is BIGGER than just tumblr. I even skipped the part about dress code bc its the same on every app now, nothing special unfortunately, the middle FINGER was news. you just never read the ToS and the reason is US LAWS, Credit card company monopoly, advertisers wanting everything to be "family friendly" etc and things are only going to get worse if you don't start opposing and repeling the torjan horse laws. Here, let's have someone who knows better explain it:

[mywritersmind]

GETAWAY - FC43

summary : An italian weekend getaway with your favorite loving boyfriend. Filled with strawberries and hammocks.

listen up : inspired by @purinfelix ! super sweet and blue vibes

word count : 884

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I yawn, walking down the kitchen and through the doorway that’s wide open, revealing my favorite part of this house. The balcony is long and filled with a couch, hammock, and table, all overlooking the crystal blue ocean. My feet are cold against the wooden floors but the moment I step outside, the sun warms my face.

I smile softly when I see him. He’s in a chair, quietly looking at the water. I wrap my arms around my lovely boyfriend, my coffee and strawberries in my hands still.

“Morning Mi amor.” His strong arms move so his hand is resting over mine, tilting his hair back so his waves brush the side of my face.

He gets a hold of my arm and gently pulls me around him, motioning to sit on his lap. He puts down his mate and welcomes me to sit on him. I put my breakfast down and wrap my arm around him, looking up into the fact I so love.

Franco’s hand goes to my leg, smiling. “Nice shirt.” I look down at what I'm wearing. It’s his shirt actually. A blue and white striped button down paired with underwear to match.

“Thank you!” I run my hands through his hair, messing it up at bit, “I stole it from a very handsome man!”

He tilts his head a bit, kissing my cheek, “He’s a lucky man.” I rest my head on Franco's shoulder. He smells like peppermint and coffee. He snatches one of my strawberries from my bowl and pops it into his mouth.

I breathe in the fresh air, closing my eyes and smiling. “You’re a vision, mi amor.” He kisses me on my lips this time, brushing my hair back softly.

I fell in love with him because of how soft he is. He never rushed me, never yelled. Him and those big brown eyes do everything to love me.

“What are you thinking about today?” I ask, looking out at the water and birds passing ahead as his lips go to my neck, “Farmers market?”

He hums against my skin, not giving any answer. I can’t even be mad at his lack of words because his lips against me and this morning view is anything I could ever ask for.

⋆༺

Our day is slow and peaceful, his hand never leaves mine and as soon as we get back to the house we change. Franco will go along with anything I do and I may be abusing my power a bit when I see our matching pajamas.

I can’t help but giggle at Franco in the blue and white porcelain design, they’re locally made and absolutely gorgeous. I have the pants and top while he seemed far too happy that they had no other pajama top in his size.

It takes approximately twenty minutes for the two of us to get into the hammock without falling out. He wraps his arm around me as I nuzzle into his chest, looking up at the star filled sky.

“I never want to leave.” He says as jazz plays from his phone across the balcony, “Let’s stay.”

I smile and look up at him, “We have to leave. But we can come back anytime.” I kiss his jaw as his hand brushes up and down my arm.

“I love you.” It makes me smile.

“I love you too.” I wrap my arm around his middle, his shirt soft against my skin. I look back up at the stars, feeling complete peace in the cool air, my warm skin, and my boyfriend next to me.

“Those stars look like a dick.” And he ruins it all in one sentence. I groan and he starts laughing, hard, shaking the hammock.

“Franco!” I scream and hold onto him tighter as we swing, “Fran- I swear!”

He's still laughing, his chest moving up and down rapidly under my head. He holds me tighter as we both try to stay still, “I’m sorry!” He laughs, “I’m sorry! You love me! You can’t be mad!”

“You’re the wor-” I go to jokingly hit his arm but when he moves to block me, we flip.

We’re on the floor and laughing seconds later. Franco grabs my face, trying to be serious but still laughing, “Are you okay!?”

Literal tears are coming out of my eyes which he wipes away with his thumbs, still looking at me worriedly. I just laugh again and pull him closer to me, pressing my lips against mine.

He pushes his hand into my hair, “Did you hit your head?” I shake my head and kiss him again, climbing on top of him.

He laughs against my lips, moving his hands to the side of my legs. “Attempted murder!” He says as I gasp dramatically.

“You were the one who made us fall!”

“Oh no!” His hand goes to my head, “You did hit your head!” I hit his arm as he breaks into laughter again and I move back next to him, looking up at the stars from the floor.

He kisses my head and tugs me against him again, “Those stars look like a heart.”

I raise a brow, “No they don’t.”

He shushes me and points, “Just squint.”

[owldalek]

Spoilers for Creature Commandos

I saw a post on her critiquing James Gunn’s portrayal of women in his show Creature Commandos. This post states that he usually does a very good job of writing women, but this just isn’t it and cites Princess Ilana’s sexual advances towards Flag, Nina’s nude portrayals in the bath, The Bride’s backstory, and Amanda Waller’s comments on Circe’s outfit. And while all these criticisms are completely valid I would like to raise a point that these scenes exist to critique the way women are viewed not just in society, but especially in comics

Creature Commandos hinges on women. Women are the center of everything.

Firstly, we have The Bride, who many point out does not even have her own name. She is made for a person who does not care for her or anyone yet feels entitled to her to the point of pursuing her for centuries, determined to capture her even if he has to knock her unconscious to do it. She is groomed by her father and taken advantage of. Eric’s continued pursuant of her leads to him teaming up with Flag.

Next, we have Rick Flag who initially comes off as a stand up guy. He doesn’t like the sexual advances of Princess Ilana… until he does. It’s repeated that he’s a much older man, which while he’s hot, leads to him infantilizing her. He views her as this innocent princess which is why Circe’s vision causes him to flip out and show his true colors. He immediately tries to accuse Circe of lying, and when no one believes him states that Themyscira isn’t event real, to which he has to be reminded that it is. His next action is then to team with Eric and try to discredit the expert on Themyscira. He refuses to see women outside of how he wants to see them, and while he’s not entitled and violent like Eric they are teamed up together thematically for a reason because they will burn the world down to get the girl they believe is theirs whether that girl exists or not.

On that topic, Themyscira is brought up as a recurring theme throughout the show. Almost every episode it is brought up in some capacity and it’s very existence is constantly called into question by the men of the series. The news anchor says it may not exist despite the fact that Circe is there in the present. Rick Flag denies it exists, and must be reminded it is. Despite this he stalks a woman and breaks into her house to prove that 1. She’s full of shit and 2. She’s not a real expert. When Themyscira is acknowledged to exist it is met with blatant misogyny.

The picture used on the news is of girls in bikinis. The Sons of Themyscira feel entitled to it because it is a land of all women. Even when Flag is corrected by someone about Themyscira’s existence that man then says that a land of women sounds like heaven, implying sex. Even Waller comments on the inherent sexuality of Circe’s costume.

To that comment, I think it is meant to point out how sexualized female characters are. Something we saw with Suicide Squad (2016) vs Birds of Prey, is a break down of the male versus female gaze. What does a woman’s outfit look like when it’s designed for sex appeal vs practicality. I think Waller’s call to attention to Circe’s outfit is to call into question would SHE dress herself this way? Obviously male artists are going to draw her that way, but why does SHE choose it. It meta-reflects how women are being portrayed in comics especially when most female costumes start out hyper-sexualized.

Finally, Nina nude. I think, once again, this is done intentionally and on purpose. Nina is the only character who does not want to kill. She hasn’t. She has no abilities outside of the water and really shouldn’t be on the team. She’s vulnerable, but you don’t see how vulnerable she really is until it’s shown her naked, cramped into a tiny bathtub. She’s alone and out of place despite literally being in her element, and she still has no protection. She is physically vulnerable the way the The Bride, Ilana, Circe and all women are vulnerable to the male gaze and men’s attitudes towards them.

Female solidarity is what keeps the plot moving, and male Interference is what creates the drama and conflict. Circe views Ilana as a literal threat, not just a helpless princess. Amanda Waller believes Circe immediately, and when there are still doubts she calls in an expert. She trusts The Bride to lead the team because the Bride won’t fuck Ilana. The Bride looks after and protects Nina because she knows Nina isn’t supposed to be in jail or in a combat situation at all. However, Flag’s infantilization of Ilana + Eric’s violent entitlement towards The Bride has led to a horrible team which have jeopardized the mission and may have caused Circe’s future to come true.

In conclusion, let James Gunn cook.

[sserpente]

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I���ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER SIX // GROUPIES 

series mlist 

Tags — alcohol, Toge highkey jumpscares yn like he’s from fnaf, “he’s right behind me isn’t he… 😟” type moment, that’s all I think?? Words — 1.0k 

It took you a moment to realize what was going on. The lighting in the rustic, shabby bar was dim, just barely casting a glow over the sharp edges of the many faces before you. Nobody should’ve expected you to be paying attention to that, your only duty was to keep your voice melodic and make sure you didn’t trip on the chord of the microphone. You failed to notice the odd glances shared by the instrument players behind you, as well as the eyes wide as saucers staring at you from the farthest wall. 

Only when the set was over and you finally got a chance to breathe—or so you thought—did you get an inkling of awareness. You were leant against the battered wood of the bar, the material oddly cool compared to your flushed skin as you waited for your drink. Nobara was beside you, mindlessly chattering away about the rip in her favourite skirt or the way a guy in her class was looking at her, but then her expression changed. She glanced anxiously behind you, making motions with her head that were meant to be some sort of signal but ended up making her look like some sort of challenged bird. 

“Y/n,” she gritted, eyes narrowing. “Be…hind… you…” 

Your head turned, but you didn’t even get a glimpse of him before he spoke. His voice was teasing, but it cut through the background noise like a gunshot in the midst of a quiet night. “So this is why you couldn’t go out with me?” 

Nobara’s eyes widened, but there was a knowing gleam in them that told you she had this all figured out. She might’ve seemed dull, a hot-headed, fashion obsessed girl concerned with nothing much, but there were more layers to her than her well-coordinated outfits. “I’ll leave you to it,” she smirked. She swiped her drink from the counter, and then all that was left of her was spilled droplets of her overly fruity beverage. 

You turned, meeting his eye. Your hip pressed into the wood, casual and inviting as you smiled. “If I denied that, would you believe me?” 

He shook his head, a huff of amusement leaving him. In the low lights, his hair reflected a soft gold, his skin looking smooth and ivory. He looked… good. Really good. You barely knew him, yet it was taking everything in you not to reach out, to run your hands over the sharp ridges of his face, stare into the soft, purple eyes that looked at you now. You’d never taken much interest in boys, never giggled and gossiped with the other girls at sleepovers while you painted your nails and braided each other’s hair. Toge seemed to flip that 180°, to give you that giddy feeling in your stomach that you’d grown to know as butterflies, but never felt personally. Not until now, at least. 

He leaned forward just a small bit, almost unnoticeable, almost involuntary. His face didn’t show it, but he could feel his heart pulsing in his ears. “You know, I figured this—” he motioned to the stage, microphone sitting prettily where you’d been standing just minutes before.  “—would be something worth mentioning. An ice breaker, maybe?” 

Your chest rose and fell with a quiet chuckle, one that couldn’t be heard beneath the clinking of glasses and drunken chatter. “But then I’d lose my mysterious allure, wouldn’t I?” 

“No offence, but I’m pretty sure stuttering over text cancels that out,” he shot back. His lips curled up into a grin, wide and genuine. You two seemed to be on the same frequency, something new and refreshing and undeniably enticing, growing with every retort. You laughed, and he felt his smile grow until it hurt his cheeks. “I can’t say I’m any better, though,” he admitted, leaning an elbow on the corner of the bar. 

“I know.” 

His brows knitted together in playful offence. “Hey! You’re not supposed to agree.” 

“You want me to lie?” 

“You lied about being a literal rockstar, so is a fib to protect my emotions that much of a stretch?” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Your body curled forward with laughter, eyes crinkling and hand reaching to cover your mouth. Maybe it was the alcohol or the breathlessness from singing, but you were pretty sure your head spinning was caused purely by Toge. His energy, the way the air around him seeped into you like it was meant to mingle with you all along—it drew you in like a magnet and sent your senses into orbit. 

He laughed with you, soft and carefree. It might’ve been nothing but a 30 minute break in the show, yes, but the moment seemed infinite to you. Being around him didn’t feel like a collection of moments, it seemed to stretch on, an endless tunnel of golden lights and coffee and smiles that left your face feeling sore. 

Across the room stood your friends, all clumped together and oddly silent. They gazed across at your figures, seeming to glow with the warmth that could only be brought from within. You didn’t know it, but they all knew what was to come, and they were… happy. For you. For him. They didn’t know Toge very well, and you didn’t either, but things felt different when he was around. Your eyes gleamed with just a little more light, something soft and bright and doughy, like how you looked when you came home after a long time away. It was slightly unnerving (in Megumi’s words), sure, but beautiful nonetheless. There was an unspoken sense of acquaintance between the three, shared between glances and the distance between you and them. 

Just then it was only you and Toge and the heavy warmth in your chest, and that was completely okay. 

Cat’s outta the bag ig???

maybe that should’ve been the chapter name

whatever I already had them planned out

Toge is yn’s groupie confirmed

I haven’t mentioned whether maki and Megumi are cousins this time, so view it as you wish

Hitting the halfway mark… this one is a very different dynamic than bttoh I think… Maybe I don’t have this series as much as I like to pretend I do… ig… I’ve been so chopped lately someone kill me. AND the Moodboard I posted flopped really bad do yall hate me be honest

Taglist — 50/50

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn

[barblaz-arts]

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

[acheronsociety]

✶ SECRETS IN THE SUNLIGHT

in which... you offer to help remus lupin with sunscreen, only to discover the scars he’s been hiding—and the reason he can’t let himself kiss you, even when he wants to.

pairing: remus lupin x gryffindor f!reader word count: 1.6k content warning: angst ✶ fluff ✶ some cursing, marauders being marauders, the feeling of being a bit uncomfy in your skin, scars, and moony's sad poet's hours as sirius would like to call them. a/n: soft summer core vibe made especially for a dear friend of mine who's been crushing on lupin too hard... the only setback is—she crushes on angst harder !

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 late June and the Black Lake had never looked more like ink and velvet soft.

The war hadn’t touched the school yet. Not really. There were whispers in corners and headlines folded under textbooks, but that day, the only thing that mattered was the sun, the stretch of freedom, and the way the air smelled like pine and mischief.

It was James’s idea, of course. Summer was here, N.E.W.T.s were done, and he was finally back with Lily after a week-long, soul-shattering breakup over that prank on Snape. She’d thrown a book at his head in the common room. Now, she was perched beside him on a blanket with her legs draped over his, her fingers tucked into the sleeve of his tee as though she still didn’t quite believe he was real.

Sirius arrived fashionably late on his ridiculous flying bike, with Cassandra Lockhart clinging to him like something out of a forbidden novel. Cassandra—Cass to everyone else, Trouble to Sirius—looked like the kind of girl mothers warned sons about. Slytherin to the bone, but smarter than any of them, and always dressed like she’d walked out of an editorial spread: black bathing suit, emerald-green silk shirt tied at the waist, and dark sunglasses perched atop her rich dark-brown hair. She barely acknowledged the others, but when Sirius helped her off the bike and whispered something at her temple, her smirk alone said everything.

And then there was Lupin.

Remus Lupin had that sort of quiet prettiness that wasn’t made to be noticed at first glance, but stuck with you. Soft eyes. Thoughtful hands. Always in linen or soft knits, like he was made of rainy Sundays and underlined poetry. He stood with his arms crossed, watching Sirius and Cass from the tree line with a half-smile, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

You weren’t far off, lacing up your trainers again after kicking them off for a swim. Your hair was still damp, clinging to the curve of your neck. Shorts. Sports bra. Tan lines forming from all the running you’d done lately just to think clearly.

You weren’t close to Cass, but you didn’t dislike her. She was dangerous in the way girls were allowed to be when they didn’t care if people liked them. You were too busy trying to make your professors proud, juggling House Quidditch with your growing pile of books on ancient magic and magical creatures.

You should’ve been in Ravenclaw, they always told you.

But it didn’t feel like Ravenclaws would have gone along with James Potter’s mad idea to steal breakfast from the kitchens and sneak out to a hidden part of the Black Lake “for peace and quiet.”

Peace and quiet had not happened. Sirius was shirtless within minutes, jumping from a tree branch into the water and dragging Cass in after him. James was poking at a picnic basket with his wand, while Lily told him, gently but firmly, to stop turning the sandwiches into birds. Marlene was sunbathing in her combat boots and a bra, sunglasses on, flipping through Witch Weekly and rolling her eyes at literally everything.

Mary would join later.

And Peter was watching you again. That soft, puppy-eyed look he always gave you when he thought no one would notice. You didn’t mind Peter. He was sweet. Beautiful in a troubled way, his own way. But you wished—selfishly—that Remus would look at you the way Peter did.

Remus, who never stared. Who was always kind, but reserved. Like he wanted to reach out and never quite did.

You moved closer to the blanket where he sat, a half-read book on magical theory close by, and dropped down beside him without warning.

“Is that Wyrdways of Magical Creation?” you asked, bumping your knee into his.

He blinked, startled, then smiled. “Yeah. Bit dense for beach reading, I suppose.”

“You’d be surprised what I call light reading,” you teased, brushing wet strands of hair from your face.

He looked at you then—opened a door he usually locked. Your knees still touching. His eyes flicked to your legs, then back to your face. But his smile dimmed, just a little.

“You’re always running,” he said suddenly.

You tilted your head. “It’s quiet when I run.”

He nodded. “Guess I wouldn’t know.”

You hesitated. There it was again. That gap. That door closing. You could feel it, like a cold spot in the middle of the sun.

“Do you ever... sneak out with the others?” you asked, voice low. “At night?”

His posture changed. Slight. But you noticed. “What makes you ask?”

You shrugged, as casually as you could. “You four are up to something. I just know it.”

Remus gave you that tired smile again. “Would you believe me if I said it’s nothing bad?”

“I don’t think it’s bad,” you didn’t meant to pry, but curiosity had always gnawed at you. “I just think it’s secret.”

That made him pause. He reached for his water bottle instead of answering.

“I don’t like secrets,” you added, softer this time.

His hand froze. Then slowly, he set the bottle down. “Then you’d hate mine.”

Something twisted in your chest.

But before you could ask more, Sirius let out a war whoop from the water. “Oi, Moony! Get in here before Cass kills me for pushing her again!”

Remus rolled his eyes. “She won’t kill you. She’ll just destroy your self-esteem.”

Cass was already climbing back onto the rock, flipping her wet hair and giving Sirius a middle finger with a perfectly manicured hand.

You leaned in just a bit closer. “You don’t have to tell me, Remus. But I think I’d like it if you stopped pretending like I’m just another girl sitting next to you.”

He looked at you, caught off guard. His lips parted.

And then, like it hurt, he said, “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t,” he whispered.

You didn’t push.

You just nodded, stepped back, and let the space between you bloom wide again. Because some truths or bonds weren’t meant to be forced, no matter how much they sat in your chest like unsaid prayers.

So you turned away, back toward the sun-dappled clearing, where the lake glistened like a secret and laughter rose in waves.

James and Lily were in their own world—her head thrown back, laughing as James attempted to charm a rock into a reclining lounge chair. It half-worked, then exploded with a puff of green smoke, sending them both tumbling into the grass.

Peter hovered near the picnic, fretting over his already pinking skin. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, squinting at the sun like it had personally offended him. “This is how I die, isn’t it? Slow-roasted.”

You chuckled and stood beside him, hand already reaching for the sunscreen bottle. “Turn around, Pettigrew.”

He blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ll be a tomato by dinner,” you said, unscrewing the cap and squeezing a generous amount into your hand.

He hesitated, then slowly turned, cheeks blooming red from something other than the sun.

As your palms smoothed over his back, Peter fidgeted and rambled nervously about a girl in Hufflepuff he might write to over break. You nodded, encouraging him, Marlene snorting from where she was sprawled, but your eyes drifted elsewhere.

Across the rocky bank, Remus sat alone now, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of his shirt while everyone else basked bare-skinned in the sun. He looked out of place, too warm, too covered. His hair clung to the sides of his neck, and he kept scratching lightly at his elbow like his skin was crawling under the linen.

Eventually, he stood.

He wandered away from the group, toward the far side of the lake where a jagged rock jutted out into the water like a ledge. Sirius floated nearby, still swimming lazy laps, his silver rings glinting even in the water.

You saw Remus look back—once—before pulling the shirt off with a kind of hesitant resignation.

It hit you, then.

He wasn’t straying further to read. Or for the view. Or even for some quiet.

He was straying further so you wouldn’t see.

The distance masked the truth. From where you all were, you could just make out the faint lines of his frame, the curve of his shoulders, the angles of his back—but not the scars. Not the ones that lived where secrets liked to hide.

There were a few on his face, sure. A small one near his brow, a thin line along his cheekbone. Another crossing the bridge of his nose. Things boys collected in childhood. No one asked.

But you’d seen him fidget with his sleeves. Tense when people brushed against him. Stay clothed when others shed layers for the sun.

And suddenly, all of it made sense.

Still, you didn’t mean to walk over.

You didn’t plan to follow him.

But you found yourself walking toward the rock anyway, sunscreen in hand, the summer heat pressing soft and heavy across your shoulders. You told yourself it was to check in. To offer something helpful. But truthfully, you wanted to be near him. Even if he didn’t let you all the way in.

He was sitting on the ledge, long legs dangling over the water, shoulders rolled forward. Sirius was nearby, floating lazily on his back, arms spread like a crucifix made of mischief and silver cuffs.

“Mate,” Sirius was saying, “if I’d known you were going for broody lake aesthetic, I’d have brought a sketchbook. Or a cigarette. You look like a heartbroken poet.”

Remus laughed—real, soft. You saw it in his profile. He was distracted, safe. He didn’t hear you approach.

You took in his back—and the moment stilled.

Scars. Not deep. Not fresh. But many. Layered over each other like the rings of a tree. Like stories that couldn’t be told out loud. And for a second, you just stood there, rooted to the spot, like seeing them had knocked the wind out of you.

Not in horror. Not in pity.

But in the knowledge that he had carried this alone. 

Your steps were soft on the stone, but he still startled when you sat beside him.

He shifted quickly, muscles on his broad shoulders tensing, spine snapping straight. His hand twitched toward the shirt he'd dropped at his side. But you just held up the sunscreen, slow and easy.

“Thought you might want help,” you offered. “I did Peter’s back. Seemed unfair to leave you out.”

He didn’t answer.

His eyes flicked down, then toward Sirius direction, then up again—hovering somewhere between gratitude and discomfort.

Finally, he nodded. Just once.

Sirius, ever the opportunist, spotted you and grinned. “Oh, finally! This was getting agonizing.”

Remus shot him a warning look.

Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender and turned, calling back to the others. “If anyone needs me, I’m retrieving my dignity!”

He dove underwater, laughing.

And you were alone.

You uncapped the bottle, warming the lotion between your hands first. Then you touched him.

He flinched.

Not like he was in pain—like he wasn’t used to being touched without flinching.

Your hands moved slowly, deliberately. Over the shoulders first. Across the blade of his back. The lotion made his skin shine, made the pale scars glow like silver ink under the sun.

He didn’t speak.

Neither did you.

Not until he exhaled, low and rough.

“I was attacked when I was five,” his jaw tensed, like the image was still vivid in his mind.

You stilled.

“Werewolf.”

There was no dramatic pause. No big reveal. Just the words, spoken like something he had rehearsed a thousand times in his head, and still hated saying out loud.

“I turn every full moon. I lose control. I... I hurt things. Myself. Sometimes... it used to be others.”

Your hand was on his shoulder, resting there now.

“I wanted to tell you sooner,” he added. “But I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I didn’t want you to flinch.”

“I didn’t,” you whispered.

He turned then, slowly, his gaze sweeping over your face like he was searching for disbelief. For fear.

He found neither.

Only you.

And for a moment—just one—he leaned in.

Closer than before. So close your noses nearly brushed, the heat from his body pulling you in like a tide.

You felt his breath. You saw the way his eyelashes trembled. The way his fingers flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

And then he stopped.

Pulled back, just slightly. Enough to undo the moment.

“Peter likes you,” he said, voice so quiet it might’ve been a thought. “And I can’t... I won’t break his heart.”

You blinked.

Tried to swallow the ache that rose up so fast it made your head swim.

You could’ve told him that you didn’t choose Peter. That you’d never given Peter a reason to hope. That what you felt—this—wasn’t a crush.

But the look in Remus’s eyes was so soft. So damn gentle. Like he was trying to hold the whole world together with a single breath.

So you just nodded.

You sat back beside him, shoulder brushing his, and stared out at the lake where Sirius was now trying to coax Lily into the water with ridiculous splashes.

And you thought—this is what it means to almost have something.

And still want it.

© ACHERONSOCIETY, 2025. all rights reserved. do not steal, repost, translate and/or claim these work as your own.

[altgojo]

the morning 🫧☀️🧡 (katsuki bakugo/reader!)

summary: you weren’t much of a morning person to begin with, but life molds people into one, for work purposes. That until both you and your dearest (grumpiest) boyfriend got a day off. Here comes the best day ever!! wc: 598 words (I know I know it’s not much 😭😭) author’s note: uh…soo hi everyone!! I have been doing everything but writing because life has (and still) been kicking my ass so yup, I literally did some final touches to this Drabble here because I’ve had it sitting in the drafts for quite a while. Also, I have a physics test this week so yeah you probably won’t hear from me for a while but I’ll try to write from time to time lol. ENJOY!!!

The sun was softly gleaming, casting beautiful shadows across the room. Soft rustling sounds can be also heard from the the leaves rustling onto the window’s glass. 

You were soo glad that you were finally able to spend some good quality time with your boyfriend, since most of your mornings are rather fast paced, leaving you with no time to soak in each other’s warmth. Moments like this are rather rare as he is always engrossed in his work. Hero duties and all, as he says in his gruff voice whenever you would complain about his...rather…workaholic work ethic. Although, you get him somedays to come home early to you. Most of the time, he is as stubborn as a mule. But, you would always forgive him nonetheless, because you know that he is a good person at heart, and he can’t help it but try harder and harder to be a better hero, just to help people.

That’s why you were very much excited to spend some time with him, in bed, just having a casual lazy morning. His huge arm would keep you pinned on the mattress by your waist as he gently breathes, accompanied with some little snores here and there, you try your hardest not to chuckle as you don’t want to wake him up, you just want to silently enjoy the daily early hours of birds chirping while gazing at his beautiful face. That’s until he wakes up, taking in his surroundings as he hugs u even more tighter.

“Goodmorning.” He mutters as sleep didn’t completely abolish off of him, slowly blinking, then he looks down, meeting your eyes as silence was the only response he’s gotten.

“I said goodmorning, what’s up with you?” Katsuki grumbled as he kept looking right at you, trying to decipher what’s going on, as he kept staring, you slowly smile at him. Unable to control your expression, you burst laughing right at his face, your face contorting as you saw the utter disbelief and annoyance on his face, causing you to laugh harder. His face would soon turn into his consistant, mundane angry expression.

“What the hell is this? Why are you acting like this at like 8 in the morning?! So annoying…” he grumbled with his bottom lip slightly gutting out, is he pouting..?!.

Katsuki just wanted to enjoy one of his few day offs in bed, with you. But instead, you pull this shit up. Is he slightly (really) annoyed at your childish antics? Yes. 

Is he mad at you? No. 

And that conclusion in return annoys the hell out of him because no matter what you do, he would never get mad at you. Atleast not completely. 

With his arm still pulling you to him possessively, you scoot even closer, nuzzling yourself into his chest, enjoying the close proximity. As you stayed like this for a while, you kept hearing his puffs and grunts get progressively louder by the second. He was getting excessively grumpy, and you knew just the right thing to do. 

“I’m sorry kat, I didn’t mean to anger you, I just wanted to tease you, please forgive me?” You almost coo softly at him, giving him a peck onto his jawline. 

He huffs, the air gently tickles your neck. Then, he flips both of you right over to the other side of the bed, taking you by surprise.

“What the hell katsuki! You scared the shit out of me!!”

It took you a few minutes to register your newfound position. Katsuki was infact, on top of you. Smirking nonetheless at the helpless expression adorning your face.

Shit.

You are totally fucked.

[yeonzzzn]

jay au where y/n is also an idol and they have a situationship and they always do tiktok challenges together and when jay recorded a challenge with other idol y/n is like OHHHHH SO YOU *TALK* WITH OTHER GIRLS? and is sooooo jealous (literally me in my silly little delulu head cause wdym jay talks with other ppl???)

NO BC I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS CONCEPT‼️‼️such a cute idea!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

it’s just a tiktok challenge

paring: jay x afab!reader word count: 1.6k

You didn’t know what was worse:

1: Your situationship with Jay or  2: The fact that this situationship with Jay is a secret. 

You obviously didn’t understand how the world didn’t already know the two of you are more than just friends. Mostly since anytime there’s a new TikTok challenge, you were always the first person Jay called and vice versa. 

Of course, Jay used the challenges as one of the excuses to see you out in public. To drag you to whatever good spot for the challenge and have it secretly be a date afterward. 

Being idols has made it hard for the two of you to officially slap a label on whatever it is that your relationship is. Jay was your best friend and you were his, so obviously when the two of you are seen in public together or doing the TikTok challenges no one bats an eye at it. And anytime either of you has been confronted on whether it’s more than friends, you both deny everything. 

It sucked, truly. To keep the situationship such a secret.

Jay felt the same way. He hated having to find ways to sneak you into the dorms or sneak into yours just to have a quick fuck or spend as much time with you as possible in a way that the public eye wouldn’t know anything. All Jay wanted to do was scream from the rooftops about how in love with you he was. And the only way he knew how to voice that was through this situationship and the TikTok challenges. 

He’d always sneak glances at you while doing the challenge, as in a way of hoping you’d see it. Jay knew you had feelings for him too, you’ve both discussed your feelings, just not in depth. 

Both are so in love with each other but neither of you knew it. Thinking it was just a small crush mixed with friends with benefits and acting innocent when the cameras are on.

Sometimes you’d both risk getting caught, having a quick make-out session behind the stages or stairs or closet or wherever Jay was able to pin your body against him. Just to get his fix of you before having to go back to pretending. 

It’s award show season and all the idols are gathered in one place, taking selfies and videos, going on Instagram lives together, and of course; TikTok challenges. 

Jay searched the sea of idols for you, constantly checking his phone to see if you’ve texted him, but have yet to hear from you. 

Sunghoon nudges Jay’s side, teasing him about you and Jay flips him the bird, “Shut up! Don’t speak too loud.” 

Of course, his group knew about the two of you, and the same with your group. Who else was going to help film the challenges and sneak you both in and out of your company buildings and dorm rooms? 

Jay slides his hands into his pockets, releasing a sigh as he continues to search for you, only for Chaewon to pop up at his side, “Jay! Want to do our new choreography dance challenge with me? Please!” 

She clung to his arm, smiling at him. Jay shrugged, smiling back, “Sure why not! How about in the hallway? It’s got pretty good lighting.” 

Chaewon agreed, asking Sunghoon to film the challenge. Sunghoon took a smirking glance at Jay and agreed. 

Jay didn’t do challenges without you. It was always you or the members he did them with. So this was the first time since before meeting you that he’d do a challenge with another idol. 

They filmed the dance challenge, then Jay offered Chae to do their comeback title challenge too, to which she agreed. 

Your group arrived a bit late but still just in time. You smoothed out your white cropped tank top and double-checked your fishnet tights underneath your white jeaned shorts, your group was set to perform early on into the show, so you all showed up already ready. 

“He already thinks you’re sexy, YN, stop fidgeting with your outfit,” one of your elder bandmates teased, pinching your cheek, “You’re cute, he knows it.” 

You couldn’t lie and say you were just trying to make sure the outfit was okay, mostly when in reality you were hoping Jay’s jaw would drop at the sight of you. 

You released a sigh, looking out around the stage and the sea of people, trying to find him. You found his group, seeing all the boys huddled together and laughing at something Jake was showing them on his phone, but Jay wasn’t there, Sunghoon was also missing. 

You glanced more around the crowd, finally eyeing the two boys and Chaewon walking back to their seats. You watched as Jay and Sunghoon gave her a smile and nod before parting ways, reuniting with their groups, and seeing Jay pull his phone from his pocket. 

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you went to his messages, typing out that you could see him and comment how handsome he looked, only to be distracted by another notification on TikTok: Enhypen posted a video! 

You smiled and clicked the notification, expecting it to be something silly Jay and Sunghoon just filmed, only for your smile to slowly drop at seeing Chaewon by Jay’s side. 

As if on cue, you received a text from Jay.

Jay: Where are you? I want to see you before you perform. I bet you look so pretty :(

You locked your phone and ignored his message. 

Jealousy wasn’t a normal emotion for you. You haven’t had to ever feel it, really. Yes, there were *small* moments but it wasn’t ever anything major. Until today. 

Your group was finally called to perform, your headsets and equipment being handed to each of your group members and being escorted to the stage. 

The performance was three song lengths long, and you kept your smile the entire time, only making eye contact with Jay once, trying your best to keep your eyes everywhere but at him. 

Once the performance was over, your group headed to a changing room. You glanced down at your phone, seeing multiple texts. 

Jay: god you look so good  Jay: <3 <3 <3 <3 Jay: those fishnets are killing me YN  Jay: meet me at the stairs the moment you see these  Jay: fuck the things I want to do to you right now. 

You thinned your lips in a line, debating to either ignore him or go to him. 

You went to him. 

You had barely pushed the door open to the stairs and took two steps down before Jay had his hands on your waist, lifting you off the stairs and pinning you to the wall, his lips crashing to yours. 

His hand trailed down to your thighs, pushing his fingers between the strings of your fishnets and squeezing the plush skin, “Fuck you’re so hot,” he whispered between kisses, shoving his tongue down your throat and rocking his growing hard length against your tummy. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders, slightly pushing him back from you so you could catch your breath, resting your head against the wall. 

It took one look at your face for Jay to realize something was wrong. Normally you’d be jumping his bones at this moment, but you’re clocked out and far away from here, far from him. 

He cupped your face, resting his forehead against yours, “What’s wrong, honey?” 

You sighed, pouting your lips and moving your head away from his and his hands, “Oh, nothing.” 

Jay took a step back from you, raising a brow, “That attitude says otherwise.” 

You crossed your arms, slouching against the wall, “What reason would I have to be upset, Jongseong?” 

He stared at you, running through every possible thing that could be upsetting you and then it finally clicked. 

Jay smirks, placing both his hands on either side of your face, “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

You weren’t shocked that Jay figured it out so quickly, he knew you inside and out. 

You shrugged, looking away from him. 

Jay pressed his body back against yours, bringing his face close to yours, brushing his lips against your ear, “You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” 

He nibbles on the shell of your ear and you bite your tongue to keep from whimpering, “I am not jealous.” 

Jay traces his lips down to your neck, “Baby, it’s just a TikTok challenge.” 

You scoff, “So you talk with other girls then?” 

“You are so jealous,” he chuckles against your neck, “Chaewon and I are under the same company, I can do challenges with her.” You tried to push him away again, but his body held firm against yours. 

You pouted more and tried to hold yourself together from exploding out your emotions. 

“Baby,” he whispered, moving his face back to yours, once again cupping your face, “You’re the one that I want, okay? I love you. I want you. There’s no need to be jealous over a TikTok challenge. There’s still so much more I can do with you.” 

You stared into his brown eyes, “You love me?” 

He chuckled, “Of course I do.” 

You felt stupid for being jealous, mostly when Jay is allowed to have other friends to do challenges with. You felt stupid for being jealous when he was in love with you. How silly you felt as you curled your lips into a small. 

“There’s that smile I love,” he smiled back, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks, “Now,” he went back into a whisper, sliding his hands down to your ass, “I have about thirty minutes before my group is called to perform, let’s make it count, ya?” 

You attach your lips to his, your hands working at his belt. 

At least to say, you both made every second of that thirty minutes count.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @belowbun @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore

[spacedace]

Had a thought about the Reluctant War and made myself a bit sad and I have no idea if it'll make it into the story proper so I'm going to inflict it upon all you guys:

Dick Grayson on the streets of Gotham trying to do everything he can to help as everyone join the ghosts in fighting the GIW, suddenly has a version of the GAV barreling down towards him and for some reason he can't get out of the way in time.

He thinks he's about to join the army of the dead in a whole new way, when the tank fo a vehicle is suddenly sent flying as something massive charged it from the side. He hears a familiar bellowing and then realizes that it's Zitka, a ghost after passing away peacefully a few years before.

She wasn't apart of the army of the ghosts, wasn't brought in to fight. She's just been following her tiny human child around all these years and now that there's enough ecto in the air to do so, she's going to protect him with all her might.

Dick is emotional, so thankful to have his old friend back, but the city is still in a state of chaos. He gets onto Zitka's back and they get to work, running - flying - around helping to grab the injured and whisk them away to safety or take out other GAVs and the like.

It's absurd and freeing and wonderful all at once to be literally flying through the skies of Gotham on the ghost of his elephant best friend, and if Dick wasn't already on the side of King Phantom he is *now* and -

He gets shot off Zitka's back.

A GIW agent was aiming for the Ghost elephant but somehow *missed* and hit Dick instead. Not enough to injure him too badly, but enough to send him flying off Zitka's back and plummeting to the ground. His grapple is broken, and Zitka is diving for him but she's being shot at and she's not going to make it in time and -

A hand, reaching out to him in midair, familiar with its callouses and strong grip as he reaches out and grasps it, body suddenly swinging in a different direction and muscles acting on memory as he falls into the old, achingly familiar routine of his childhood. His mother, ethereal and bright as she smiles down at him, hanging upside down from a bar suspended from nothing but open sky as they swing and he is let go, flipping on instinct and caught by the steady strong hands of his father.

The Flying Graysons reunited in the skies above Gotham, Dick's ghostly parents determined to ensure their little bird never falls the way they did.

[with-my-murder-flute]

Re: The Tomb of Dragons ship situation/ending, spoilers for A Companion to Wolves and Angel of the Crows

Like I respect Addison's right to write the stories that feel meaningful to her, she doesn't have to just feed us fanbait, not every author has to do that

but I was white-knuckling up to the very last sentence of the book

I have trust issues ever since A Companion to Wolves, where the first book ends and you're like. I guess they have somehow found a way to survive and be happy in their unusual approach to society's sexual mores! And then the next book begins and it's like "Oh actually the main character is just resigned to permanent unhappiness with this, maybe he will dredge up a thin trickle of joy in life focusing on something totally different." And I'll be honest, I put that book down and never picked it up again, because I did the good girl Catholic thing and thought "Oh well I'll never experience sexual joy or deep enduring love but maybe I'll have like idk a career or some shit" long enough for one lifetime. NO MORE. I just gave up and went back to Every Marine a Wolfbrother.

And then Angel of the Crows was like, "I got shot down every single time I reached for queer joy or relationships and the one relationship that does remain is not really what I want or need and maybe I am a bit fundamentally unlovable, but I'll survive, we get by," and I was, again... I recognize this is not a story for me. It's not what I want from a story. But also, I am so disappointed and tired here.

So with this series I was just so much like... she does not owe us fanbait, I have trained myself to think it's tacky and bad to get upset that an author has not provided the exact kind of representation we want exactly how we want it. I watched the Good Omens fandom explosions and don't want to do that.

But at the same time. We have been hearing about the extreme gay agony of this beautiful muppet for FOUR BOOKS STRAIGHT. He is the world's most sopping wet little meow meow, and quite respectfully, if you do not want your fans to form a frenzy and start burning down uninhabited buildings due to an overload of unrequited textual sexual tension, MAYBE DON'T FOCUS ON IT QUITE SO MUCH.

So I'm here at the end of Tomb of Dragons going, "I guess I'm okay with this? I guess I can live? It's not exactly what I wanted and it's not delivered to the degree I wanted, but I guess we can get by here."

Is this what Stockholm Syndrome feels like? I literally don't believe Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing, I think it's been bunk since the day it was created, but also, this feels like what Stockholm Syndrome would feel like.

I will probably be able to like the new love interest! I can see myself in the future being happy with the way the story ended up going in, once I get over the fact that it went there! This makes sense and I can see it and reconciling all those feelings is what fanfiction's for!

I just also... am not so excited to see what else Addison's working on now. Because this overarching theme or emotional focus on the yearning for warmth and closeness and empathy and touch and desire, and the realization that you will just have to make do with slightly unsatisfying substitutes instead, is just way too similar to the defeatist ways I learned to approach life with when I was a child. It's exactly the mindset I wanted to get away from then and am still learning to let go of now.

I don't want to squash the fandom with my disappointment and negativity, and if fandom does just turn into everyone being angry and bitter that the author personally flipped them the bird and actually everything about these books is proof that they've always been shit, no thanks, not hanging out with that again. If I stick around, it's for Thara getting railed in exactly the way he wants in some happier future, and figuring out what that would look like.

[riddlemearose]

Linked Universe Combat Guide (part 2)

This is Part 2 of my attempt to make my fight scene notes into a coherent and understandable guide. Lord only knows if I'm being successful on that.

Part 1 can be found here.

General Notes once again:

The additional weapons/equipment is anything outside of the literal sword and shield you get in-game that could be used as a weapon, but does not include bombs, bows + arrows, or boomerangs bc I'm not writing that every time.

7 out of 9 Links are left-handed and this will have an affect on combat if they're fighting against human enemies.

-> any ambidextrous fighters in the group is largely a headcanon but go nuts w/ it.

This is looking at lore-accurate fighting ability bc you can scale down to however you headcanon they fight. Any additional arguments are logical conclusions/presumptions I'm making off of their in-game skills and/or character history.

Once again, researched to the best of my ability but I'm not claiming this has everything in every game. Fact checking is welcomed!

Also here's an article discussing the pros and cons of chainmail vs plate armour, since this group is the more armoured lot of the Chain

Minor update 9 March 2025: added a link to a reblog explaining a note on Warriors' section in better depth.

Upadte 3 May 2025: added more info to Warriors' section, provided by @interlink-au, as well as amended & added to other sections with more info they gave me in their reblog.

Sky

The most important thing in Skyward Sword’s combat is that you are fast. You Are Speed. That is Sky’s greatest advantage.

Feint. Always, always feint; then, when the enemy goes to block the feint, quickly attack from the opposite direction.

Sword techniques*: -> Shield Bash: reflects projectiles and knocks enemies off balance. Requires perfect timing but leaves an opening to take advantage of. -> front-flip slash -> back-flip slash -> jump attack -> fatal blow -> Skyward Strike/Sword Beams *Certain techniques cost stamina.

Unlike Warriors and Wild, Sky is near the start of the timeline, meaning he doesn’t have the same type of modern military-esque knighthood structure that future versions of Hyrule have. Consequently, we don’t see anyone in Skyward Sword really use any weapons outside of short swords, leading me to believe Sky’s main proficiency is really in them alone.

Sky is highly adaptable in a fight. He learns very quickly when enemies will block and when they will go to attack, which means he can deal with them extremely quickly. Arguably this means that he is not exactly built for long-term fights, but he can get through them if he must. I’d almost call him as a Glass Cannon, but he’s sturdier than that, so he gets the Lightning Bruiser name tag instead.

Happily arguing that Sky would be very good at mounted archery, even if it's obviously different to horseback. I know Loftwings can be taught that corkscrew manoeuvre that acts as an attack, but given sword-based combat wouldn't be feasible when you're riding a giant bird so I'm dying on this hill.

Additional Equipment/Weapons: -> whip (pls use this, whip fighting is great. They can deal a lot of damage if you hit someone with the end.) -> clawshots -> slingshot/scatter-shot -> gust bellows -> guardian potion+ (invulnerability, baby!)

Time

Time is fun bc he’s about 20 years older than he was during his adventures, which means you can kinda go ham with what he does and doesn’t know.

To kick things off, Time gets the honour of being the first Link (on this list) to have canonical multiple sword proficiencies: longsword, and short sword + shield. I will very happily argue and die on the hill that Time 100% has some staff proficiency given how Deku sticks can be used in OOT. If you go with this, use European-style quarterstaff techniques instead of Chinese-style bō/gun staffs.

The Biggoron sword isn’t any specific type of longsword, given the sheer weirdness of its blade shape. I think most people seem to agree that it’s a great sword, which at the extreme basics is essentially a longer longsword. I use claymore combat videos to get a feel for writing the Biggoron sword, and have used this specific video a few times.

Given Time’s +20 years from his adventures, we all pretty much believe he's mastered the Hidden Skills he passes onto Twilight, both with a short sword and the Biggoron sword. These are still gonna be listed in Twilight’s segment however, given they feature in his game.

Time also has a magical aspect to his combat, both in terms of literal magic items and then his two combat-focused spells.

Potentially Combat-Focused Masks: -> Transformative Masks: Deku Mask, Zora Mask, Goron Mask, Fierce Deity Mask, Giant’s Mask -> Other Masks: Blast Mask, Bunny Hood, Stone Mask

Spells: -> Din’s Fire -> Nayru’s Love

Important note: as stupid as this reminder is going to sound, Time only has one eye. He has a decreased field of view and decreased depth perception. He probably has a way to compensate for this, but it is a disability that shouldn't be forgotten. My mother is visually impaired in one eye and it affects how she reads things, how she drives, how she uses footpaths etc etc. It's not ableist to remark on Time's partial lack of sight. If anything, how he compensates for it is something I've been meaning to explore - I just haven't been able to get my head to world build it coherently.

Thanks to interlink-au for reminding me I didn't add this, but Time is good at mounted combat. I'm hesitant to say he's able to do mounted archery with his vision impairment though as, if I use my mother's experience (legally blind in one eye but has some vision), his depth perception is probably crap.

Additional Equipment/Weapons: -> powder keg (yes, Time carries TNT) -> hookshots -> longshot -> Deku nut -> Deku stick -> slingshot -> golden gauntlets -> megaton hammer -> Great Fairy Sword (according to info found by interlink-au, this is now likely an arming sword, which is just a fancy word for a broadsword tbh) -> Gilded Sword

Twilight

The Tank™

Most adept at horseback combat. An FYI but the fact that Twi defaults to using a one-handed sword on horseback is extremely telling of this point. For the most part, light cavalry were equipped with polearms/lances and bows with a sabre on the side. I know it's partially an animation thing but Twi being confident enough to get close to an enemy on horseback to use a one-handed sword is huge sign of his skill and proficiency.

Hidden Skills: -> Ending blow -> Shield attack -> Back slice -> Helm Splitter -> Mortal Draw (my beloved <3) -> Jump Strike -> Great Spin

Extremely important to remember how stupidly strong Twilight is. Dude can yeet a charging Goron, only needing his iron boots to stay where he is. This can be showcased in multiple ways: fist-fighting, emphasis of the strength of his shield bash, etc etc. He's likely capable of hand-to-hand combat as well, given his strength and knowledge of sumo wrestling.

Most tanks are slow, but Twi is actually rather speedy, even as a hylian.

(Btw if Twi places a bomb on the ground in front of him and holds his shield up, he will take no damage when the bomb explodes. Fantastic way to kill stalfos and annoy Darknuts.)

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> slingshot -> ball and chain -> clawshots -> dominion rod (if you're feeling experimental) -> spinner (?????? Somehow????) -> crossbow -> Twi’s weird magic armour (note: crossbows don't actually replace bows; they have their own pros and cons. See this YouTube short for some context)

As a wolf:

This is where Twilight becomes less of a Tank and more of a Glass Cannon. Wolves are very fast and, depending on how much Twili magic you headcanon Twilight has access to, he can get in and out of combat easily.

But most importantly, Twilight has very little defence as a wolf so he can't tank hits nearly as well as he can as a hylian (as the comic has already shown).

Main threat is obviously his jaw strength; Twilight is able to latch onto enemies, usually by biting down on their throats or shoulders. Pls be aware that ordinary wolves can bite through bone if they get the angle right.

Normal wolves don’t attack with their claws bc they’re not cats, but Twilight has human-level intelligence and can do whatever he wants within the confines of his body.

Twi also has a charge spin attack as a wolf. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Warriors

Proficient in multiple weapons and has adaptable fighting styles.

A few of his canonical fighting styles are listed at the end but depending on which era of knighthood you want to take inspiration from, he can also be proficient in lances and pole-arms, long-swords and sabres, and hand-to-hand combat (predominately Greco-Roman style wrestling but don’t let that stop you).

No specific sword techniques shown outside of the spin attack and jump slash. -> Updated info from interlink-au, which I'm just going to copy and paste for ease of access, with minor edits so this doesn't get bogged down: "First off, he is very fast. He needs to get around that battlefield quickly to help struggling allies. Even without the Master Sword, he can do something similar to a sword beam (a disc-shaped air slash). With the Master Sword, his swords beams are ridiculous. He can spam those things left and right and in the air, and send 3 at the same time. He can also do a vertical spin and spin attack into the air, where he can get some normal slashes in while he’s aerial. He can juggle enemies in the air for a second. He has a move where he dodges and immediately follows with a thrust. Its use reminds me of Wind’s parry attack. He also has a shield bash (more like a charge) followed by a sword thrust. Wars' magic rod doubles as a fire rod. The magic rod portion shoots laser beams and controls orbs. The fire portion can send out fire pillars/tornados. He can even send out a stream of fire that flies around like a dragon. He can even transform it into a battle axe for some reason."

Also proficient in combat on horseback but I’m not listing his Epona as a weapon lmao. -> interlink-au added that Wars is good at mounted archery too!

Has an innate passive (potentially magic?) ability to tag enemies with a ‘Light Mark’, which causes them to take increased damage from every attack for as long as his Triforce mark is glowing. This is triggered after a certain amount of enemies are killed and ends a few seconds after he stops dealing damage. Best used in his era but still viable in others.

Also, Wars’ lil inverse-grip upward slash finisher for one of his Master Sword combos? *chef’s kiss emoji* we love to see it -> (reverse grips are technically not great bc of the increased chance of literally breaking your wrist, among other things. However it looks cool as hell) -> Update: for more info on this bc I hadn't explained it well, I've covered it in more depth in this reblog here.

A lot of Wars’ fighting style is best copied from visual mediums, but given that search results generally like to give you Age of Calamity videos, this video is a good one to focus on. interlink-au also points out that his other fighting styles in-game are very useful to study visually, but I'm not going to list them here in-depth. Here are some links to videos for them. -> Ball and Chain (note: power/silver gauntlets should be thought of as separate too and would be very good for intense hand-to-hand combat - think Vi from Arcane). -> Spinner -> Magic/Fire Rod

Full disclaimer I tried to play Hyrule Warriors in December. I got through 5 hours and the game gave me such wicked eye strain I couldn't look at a screen for 2 days straight so I had to stop. But what I did pick up is Wars is not someone to fold quickly under pressure. You do a lot of that game with very few PCs on the map while a LOT of emergencies come at you full-speed. Wars is fantastic at balancing out who needs help literally right this second and who he unfortunately has to delay assisting. These are not easy decisions to make, but they are extremely critical ones that must be made in war or any combat zone.

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> fire rod -> power gauntlets (from interlink-au, this is used w/ the ball and chain and also separately. -> spinner (again, potentially??? Somehow. I will put this Beyblade into a fight scene one day) -> hookshots -> hammer

Wild

The Ultimate Dodge Tank

BOTW’s entire combat system is literally "Do Not, Under Any Circumstances, Get Hit", to the point where the game actively rewards you for dodging and parrying. This means that Wild’s entire fighting style is based around memorising everyone else’s fighting styles.

Proficient in multiple weapons and weapon-types (i.e. short swords, slashing swords, longswords and spears) and good at using bows in close combat, though he does not get to utilise his champion ability while dodging if he’s holding a bow.

Pls be aware I do actually mean it when I say ‘multiple weapon types’. You DO NOT use a scimitar the same way you use a broadsword, nor a battle axe the same way you do with a claymore. Me @ BOTW’s animations: CHANGE THE FIGHTING STYLES UP YOU COWARDS.

No specialised sword techniques outside of the basic spin attack and downwards slash.

Proficient with all weapon-types while in mounted combat (either on a horse or the Master Cycle Zero), and great at mounted archery too obviously.

Has arguably the strongest Champion Ability next to Urbosa’s Fury, as it’s automatically triggered if the conditions are met and is very hard to block or defend against. And on that topic, let’s begin.

Flurry Rush: -> damage output adjusted for weapon type used (short swords attack x7 times, long swords attack x4 and spears attack x7-10) -> bypasses enemy shields and invincibility frames -> Wild can be knocked out of this (either by being damaged by an enemy or by mistiming the start of his flurry rush – i.e. landing on a sloped surface will cancel a flurry rush before it begins.) -> flurry rushes still affect weapon durability

Bullet Time: -> requires falling from height obviously. -> Your Stamina! It Goes Down! -> also this is the only thing that really changed in TOTK’s combat: stamina is used when firing arrows, not just by entering bullet time itself.

Perfect Guard: -> you can perfect parry literally almost anything, including a bokoblin being thrown at you by a moblin, wolves, and apparently bees. -> negates explosive damage (i.e. remote bombs, bomb arrows, that one Lynel attack) if you manage to consistently get the timing right. I have not, so take this with a grain of salt <3 -> generally only used for Guardians (as far as I've seen from fellow players) and kinda falls to the wayside in TOTK bc there’s no real incentive to use it. -> does not give Wild any actual chance to utilise his champion ability even tho I like writing that it does bc then it would be a useful thing to learn in totk, Nintendo! Shocker!

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> literally whatever he can get his goddamn hands on -> “You’ve heard of set bonuses, right?” -> Sheikah Slate