#plus my brain is too crowded with stuff as it is

[amiaclone]

hiii umm can you write some thanos (squid game 2) x reader. like just him being a flirt n stuff

Yes! My first Thanos writing I tried to make him as accurate as possible 😭

Thanos x gn! Reader

“Hey there senorita/Amigo glad a pretty face like yours survived!”

You groaned not this guy again

He kept on flirting with you before the first game and luckily you hid behind a good crowd of people for him to lose sight of you now walking back he is giving you an unfortunate greeting

Thanos was his name you’ve heard of him a rapper you’ve listened to a few of his songs but you’d never tell him that

You liked a good flirt but Thanos was a play boy right? Well he seemed like one anyways one thing you hated more then a playboy was a tryhard

“Oh great to see you too!” *You spoke in exaggeration excitement* “That was clearly sarcastic-“ *Said his friend who was immediately pushed out of the way and interrupted harshly by Thanos* “Shut up anyways atleast we have some interesting people that lived…” *He winked*

“Okay that was a good one.” *You smirked if he’s playing you might as well entertain him*

A part of you felt like it was genuine but why?

You leaned on one of the bars of the beds with Thanos following suit leaning beside you

“Want me to protect you if they try to attack you?”

You shrugged in amusement “Like the protecting but I’ll be fine they won’t attack us unless we interfere i assume”

“Ooh! Beauty and Brains this one’s a keeper!”

He smirked a bit as he praised you scoffed smiling a bit

Atleast you felt complimented

Eventually some guy told the guards that we can vote to stay or leave you weren’t sure

“So what are you picking?”

You questioned Thanos but you already felt like you knew

“Stay leaving now? That would be something an idiot would do that guy survived all the games he can guide us”

True that made you ponder in thought “But what if they change the games?” *You couldn’t help but say out loud “Well there children games can’t be too fucking bad.” *Thanos bluntly admitted*

Eventually it was time for you to vote not like it made a difference you voted to stay what Thanos said encouraged you in a way plus needed the money but now you feel like you made a mistake…

Thanos smirked

“That’s my n/n! You chose the right one!”

You scoffed wanting to act like you didn’t know him you walked over anyways

“Since you broadcasted to everyone here that we’re talking why don’t we form an alliance?”

“Absolutely not-“ “Ditto.” *He interrupted his friend again* “Need a pretty face like you on our side anyway”

*You spent your hours before the next game with your just made alliance Thanos and Nam-Gyu

You could tell Thanos was the (Un)stable one holding the alliance as Nam-Gyu silently despised you is he gay for Thanos or what? You sigh

“So babe, you seem smart what do you think the next games are?”

You quirk an eyebrow “Well there games we played since our childhood so….maybe since red light green light was supposed to eliminate half the players this one’s a….group related game?” You sounded more confused by each time you spoke but Thanos seemed to weirdly buy it

“Smart thinking, told you we got a brains on our team WERE GONNA WIN!!!” *Yeah this guy was definitely high but why do i feel like hes growing onto me?*

After that horrifying game Thanos approaches you

“Thanks my flower your a real brainy for figuring out it was group related”

You sighed smiling “Eh it was only a suggestion I didn’t actually know what the game was gonna be”

He smirked “But a beautiful genius like yourself figured out Thanos and Y/n me and you! Are gonna take over the games”

You couldn’t help but smile at that eh maybe he’s not so bad after all? Maybe

“Sure”

Tried to make Thanos as accurate as possibeee!

[summershouto]

IDEAL Elain would be she’s healing and happier but now instead of being a typical Soft Girl they realize that yes she’s really quiet and sweet until she says creepy ass stuff. not just with her visions though that’s often the catalyst

She’s gardening and then sets down her tools and just says shit like “ they will come soon. They are waiting” and go back to humming and pulling weeds. She’s trying on a new dress and a big floppy sun hat and calmly informs them “this hat is also ideal for the next half moon”. No elaboration given

Rhys and Cass and them are like 😟uh.. They won’t admit it but she scares them a bit. In a very different way than Nesta though. Elain is just..unnerving. ESPECIALLY because she’s the gentle one. so soft spoken. ribbons and smiles but also long stares with too few blinks

Nessa and Feyre are mostly used to her strange vibes. After the Cauldron she definitely got more unhinged with it but its just feeding off of what was already there.

is somebody gonna match her freak but it’s just bursts of being vague and cryptic (Aka Lucien is nodding along like he knows Wtf she’s saying)

[teddybear-zero]

as bad of an experience i had interacting with other atinys and arena staff at the Ateez concert i went to, it was so heartening to see how respectful and loving everyone was to Ateez themselves.

i really, really hope that i see carats giving Seventeen the same amount of love and respect on the upcoming tour

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. ��Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.���

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

[inurnctdreams]

00:00 - l.dh

idol!haechan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, drabble

warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of sex, pet names (baby, hyuckie)

wc: 0.7k

“happy birthday dear hyuckie, happy birthday to you!”

“hi baby, thank you.” donghyuck’s voice is quiet and slightly raspy. nothing you haven’t heard multiple times before, but not what you’d expected when you’d called your boyfriend at exactly midnight in his current time zone.

“did… did i wake you up?” you frown, and your voice must betray your disbelief if his cute little chuckles over the line are anything to go by.

“maybe, i fell asleep like twenty minutes after i ate dinner.”

“were the guys not with you?” you pout. you’d at least taken some comfort in the fact that he’s surrounded by the rest of the dreamies for the start of his birthday if you can’t be there.

“they’re here.” he says. “our intention was to stay up.”

“and you all fell asleep? that’s actually really fucking funny.” you can’t help the giggles that escape you at the thought of all seven of them crowding in one hotel room to see donghyuck’s birthday in, only to not make it to midnight.

“yeah, i guess we were all pretty tired.”

“wait, does that mean i still got to be the first person to say it?!” you say excitedly. it’s not yet his birthday where you are, but you’d be damned if you were gonna let a silly thing like time zones come between you and making sure your boyfriend started off his day showered in love, albeit virtual.

“uh-huh.” he smiles, leaving out the fact that he’d been planning on answering your call before anyone else could wish him happy birthday anyway. you’d been so cutely adamant that distance wouldn’t stop you from being the first. “i miss you so much.” you almost don’t hear the whisper. if you didn’t know him so well, you’d chalk the voice crack up to him only just waking up.

“i miss you too, baby. twenty-one hours.” you let yourselves sit with the bittersweet feeling for a moment. tears begin to form in your own eyes but you blink them away. “i cannot wait to give you your presents, i think i’ve outdone myself this year!”

“all i need is you.” he elongates the vowels in ‘you’, trying to match your cheery tone.

“ew, stop being so greasy! plus, you love presents and i’m still mad my master plan to have them sent to you was ruined.”

“management did have a point about the shipping time issues, plus this way you can see me open them properly.” he reasons. “i can’t wait to hug you again.”

“just hug me?” you smirk.

“this was supposed to be a cute, innocent birthday call, not phone sex!” he gasps dramatically, sending you both into another fit of giggles.

“okay, okay.” you relent. “i guess the whole point of birthday sex is to do it in person.”

“tease.”

“we did not need to hear that.” another voice chimes in, clearly muffled and far away.

“why are you even on the phone so late?” mark questions, sounding closer than jaemin had. “oh shit dude, happy birthday!”

“is it already midnight?” jisung’s voice is muffled, and then you hear rustling and yells for the other boys to wake up.

“i’ll let you go, have fun with the boys!” you smile.

“no!” hyuck immediately whines.

“it’s okay baby, have a good morning and let me know when you’re boarding and landing, yeah?”

“fine.” he sighs, and you can hear the pout in his voice. the mental image of him, bedhead and traces of sleep, has you mourning the fact that you can’t squish his cheeks or kiss his forehead. yet, you remind yourself. “i’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you as soon as i get back.”

“i’m holding you to that.” you smile, ignoring the fake gagging sounds in the background.

“get some rest too, i know you have work in the morning.”

“i’ll try.” you knew it would be difficult to settle your restless brain but he was right, you did have work, plus the stuff you’d planned for when he got home that you had managed to keep a surprise. “happy birthday, hyuckie. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you glance down at your phone when the call ends.

twenty-one hours.

[moralesmilesanhour]

if you believe in me - 02

summary: word gets around fast. wc: 2256 a/n: got too impatient soooo here we are lmao. I'll still be writing ahead I just wanted to post this one lil thing. warning for like one vague sex joke prev next

Your hands swung between the two of you until you reached the bottom steps of Visions Academy. The moment you began your ascent, little gasps and whispers followed not far behind. Miles’ hand began to squirm, as if trying to weasel his way out of the vice grip you had on it as you tugged him along. The reason why dawned on you when you entered the main hall:

Everyone was staring.

Scanning the clusters of students gathered in front of the escalators, you noticed that some of their mouths had fallen open in shock. You turned to glance at Miles, who was staring straight ahead with his brows knit together with worry. 

“Miles, what’s wrong–”

“Y/N?”

Tianna’s voice interrupted before you could finish the question. The short, dark-skinned girl ran up to you for a quick hug, the smell of her vanilla body mist wafting off of her uniform.

She pulled away to give Miles a once-over, narrowing her eyes at him. He nervously avoided making eye contact.“I see you didn’t take my advice, as always.”

“Well, we met up this morning,” you shrugged. “It worked out.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Miles remarked quietly.

“I know,” your friend shot back as she tugged your arm to pull you away. “A moment, please?”

He raised his hands in surrender, and you gave him an apologetic smile as you let go of his hand. You followed Tianna until you reached a spot where he’d be out of earshot, where she stopped abruptly. She spun around to face you with her arms folded.

 “Y/N…girl.”

“What? He said we were a thing when I asked him–”

“You had to ask him?” Tianna sighed, massaging her temples. “At least I know you weren't lying about the kiss.”

Your mouth fell open in offense, making her burst into laughter. 

“Girl, fuck you! You thought I was lying?” you yelled as you gave her a playful shove.

“It’s Miles Morales! I don’t think he’s even had a full conversation with anybody since ninth grade. How you got him to kiss you is beyond me.”

“What does that mean?” you laughed. “You’re mad disrespectful.”

“That’s not the point, though. He didn’t even text you first.”

“Maybe he just forgot my number.”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know a lot about him!”

Tianna raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Name three things you know about him that he told you himself.”

“Easy,” you began counting on your fingers, “He doesn’t like wearing his glasses, he likes rock music, and, um…”

You paused, racking your brain for something that you didn’t have to find out from asking around. Tianna’s lips were pressed into a thin line, wholly unimpressed. She sighed again.

“Yeah, okay, sis–”

“Wait!” you interrupted in a last-ditch effort to defend yourself. “He told me he’s actually not a gang member like people say, so that’s a plus, right?”

She saw the desperate look on your face and shook her head. 

“Look, just…be careful, alright? If you not gonna listen to me, at least do that much,” Tianna pushed you gently back in Miles’ direction just as the morning bell rang. “Now go to class.”

You looked back at her one last time and smiled. “Thanks.”

Miles looked up expectantly as you jogged over to him. “So? What was that about?”

“Girl stuff,” you lied, sticking out your hand. “Walk me to class?”

As soon as you made it up the escalator, Miles mentally prepared himself to make his way through the crowded hallway. He wasn’t used to being at school this early, and it seemed that–judging by the sudden rise in conversation and exaggerated ‘oooh!’s as you passed by–neither were his fellow students.

Your homeroom wasn’t too many doors down from his, so he gently let go of your hand just outside Ms. Keene’s classroom.

“Aight, see you in calc–”

“Um, sir,” you stopped him before he could turn around, with a hand on your hip. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Miles’ eyes narrowed, then widened in understanding when you placed a finger on your cheek. He glanced towards the clusters of kids gathered around their lockers.

Many were still watching out of curiosity, looking for something to talk about come lunchtime. He turned to you and smiled apologetically. 

"Later."

"Imma hold you to that, Morales!" you called out behind you as you finally entered the classroom.

“Good morning, miss L/N,” Keene greeted with her eyes still glued to her laptop. 

Every morning, she’d project the list of morning announcements onto the whiteboard then spend the rest of homeroom checking emails. The class was allowed to chat idly until the bell rang, just as long as it didn’t get loud enough to catch the attention of any administrators.

“G’morning!” you replied.

You had just sat down when a nasally voice asked suddenly, “Did you get Callahan’s homework done on time?”

Startled, your head snapped towards the girl sitting next to you, Caitlyn. As always. 

She leaned forward with her palm cradling her chin, pale and freckled face beaming with anticipation as if gossiping with a friend. The girl hardly knew you.

“Um, yeah, it…wasn’t too bad,” you replied tentatively. “You?”

“Girl, I was struggling,” she answered with a wave of her hand. The phrase came out oddly, like she was reciting lines off of a script, and it made you cringe internally. “Spent nearly the whole night on it.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and nodded. Just before you could fully turn away, though, Caitlyn jumped to another topic.

“So you and Miles are like, together, right?”

“...Yup.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation.

“So what’s he like? Outside of school, I mean.”

Grinning to yourself, you almost spilled every detail: the glasses, his dimples when he smiled–like, really smiled–and jazz music. But she didn’t need all that.

“He’s…cute. Real smart-ass, though.” you answered while fiddling with the lead in your mechanical pencil.

Caitlyn snorted, “No shit. I heard he used to give Ms. Jones hell in AP Calc once he got back from his, um…break.”

Your expression soured at that last bit.

“You got anything specific you wanna ask me?”

“Have you two…? Y’know.” 

She made her eyebrows jump up and down, making it uncomfortably clear what she was implying.

“No,” you replied coarsely. “And if we did, I wouldn’t be tellin’ you.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly cut off by the bell. 

You rose from your seat and swung your book bag over your shoulder as quickly as possible before making your escape into the hallway. 

Three more periods of that to go. Lovely.

A chorus of boys whooped and hollered when Miles passed by them on the way back to his locker. 

“Yo, is that my son Miles? On time?”

The voice calling out to him belonged to Jeremiah, a shorter boy with dark skin and newly-cut hair after spending the entirety of ninth grade with a short, unstyled afro. A tiny grin played on Miles’ lips. They used to hoop with some of the Brooklyn Middle kids after school, before everything happened. 

It wouldn’t kill him to say ‘hi’.

“I’m always on time, y’all just early!” he called out over his shoulder, even doing the little salute his dad would always do when he dropped Miles off.

This lift in his mood would be killed swiftly by third period, when Hakim ripped out one of his airpods. Right at the bridge of one of his favorite songs, too.

“What you listenin’ to, Morales?”

Miles glared daggers into him, but the boy was never really one to take a hint.

Hakim went on, “Huh. Didn’t pin you as a seventies guy.”

He returned the earbud, ruffling dark ringlets that nearly covered his eyes. It used to be much shorter, until he grew it out in eighth grade and soon realized that girls preferred it that way. 

“I’m full of surprises,” Miles muttered darkly, examining the airpod between his fingers. He made a face at it, and decided they were unfit to stick back into his ears before storing them in their case. “Sumn you need?”

Hakim opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Mr. Callahan’s booming voice:

“Hold the side conversations, please.”

“My fault, sir,” Miles replied. He didn’t need to rack up behavioral infractions at ten in the morning.

The middle-aged man paused his scribbling on the whiteboard and turned around. He stared directly at Miles like a child about to pull a prank.

“Actually, Morales, since you’re so talkative today and–well–actually here,” he pointed with the dry-erase marker in his hand, “Why don’t you help us calculate the total charge of this particle?”

…Right. 

Miles had almost forgotten that, technically, he was still Callahan’s ‘star student’. 

He’d never forget when the former university professor pulled him aside after a particularly difficult class and told him:

 “Y’know, I’d actually have you teach this class on some days if that was allowed. Like a high school T.A., but without the salary!” 

He’d forced a polite laugh, then. The man genuinely seemed to believe that he’d told a good joke. 

That’s the thing about teachers who believe in you: they won’t just ignore you sitting in the back of the classroom with your airpods in.

Miles gave Callahan a pointed look as he took the marker from him and got to work. If it could even be called that. 

Inventing sneakers that defied gravity in his room made this all look like basic addition. Most of it was just a series of conversions, nothing that a bit of mental math couldn’t solve. He boxed his answer then looked up for approval that he didn’t need.

“Correct as always, Morales. You may return to your seat,” Callahan raised an eyebrow, “Quietly. Not all of us are as adept as you are and do still need to focus.”

“You got it, boss.”

Miles handed the marker over before shuffling back to his seat. Feeling the classroom full of eyes burning into his clothes, he considered waking up late on purpose from now on if it meant avoiding them. 

Shortly afterwards, the class transitioned into his least favorite section: partner work. Miles could usually get away with ignoring whatever poor soul had been seated next to him, but some were a little too…persistent. Asking him to solve every problem for them as if he alone could bring their grades up. 

The thought reminds him of someone, and a lopsided smile spreads across his face.

“Yo, who got you smiling like that?”

He snapped out of his contemplation and turned reluctantly toward Hakim.

“Nothing,” Miles answered sharply. “Nobody.”

“It definitely ain’t nobody,” Jeremiah piped up from the seat behind him. Since when did he take this class? 

“We all saw you this morning, bro, who is she?”

“Yeah, spill!”

Miles inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose before responding, “Y/N.”

“That’s your girl? Since when?”

“Since…”

Since three and a half hours ago.

“Since last week.” He nodded curtly.

“That’s a relief,” Hakim remarked. “We thought you were gonna be a hermit for the rest of your life.”

Miles snorted. “Don’t rule it out just yet, the year's not over.”

Jeremiah piped up again, “Off-topic, but have you finished this packet yet? This shit kinda blowin’ my mind right now.”

“What do you think?”

Lunch rolled around, and Miles had never rushed upstairs faster. He was not in the mood to have the counselor pick apart every word that left his mouth and drone on about his “journey with grief”. 

He was fine. He just needed to be somewhere where no one was fucking watching him.

Miles wouldn’t get that, though, because you were sitting in his spot, eating half of a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Took you long enough,” you said before taking another bite. He grinned and shook his head.

“And what business you got up here?”

You set the sandwich down and tilted your head. “You think I forgot about this morning?”

Miles sat down next to you with a grunt, and crossed his legs.

“That serious, huh?”

“Very. Might keel over and die without it.”

He leaned in and planted a warm kiss on your left cheek. “We can’t have that, now, can we?”

Just before Miles could put any more distance between you, you gently placed a hand beneath his chin. It’d been a while since you’d had a good look at his face.

Faint freckles dotted across his cheeks, a tiny scar through his brow that you don’t remember being there. He squinted when the sunlight hit his face, and for a second his left eye looked like it was a duller shade of brown than the right. Almost green.

“Y/N? You–”

You pressed your lips against his before he could finish the sentence. Miles remembered to tilt his head and relaxed into the kiss as your hand moved to the nape of his neck to toy with one of his braids. He still didn’t know where to put his hands.

When you pulled away, he couldn’t look you in the eye. It made you giggle to watch his pupils dart to and fro, not knowing where to land. 

Miles took a deep breath to collect himself, but the exhale came out a quiet laugh.

“Ion know if I’ll ever get used to that,” he half-whispered.

An impish smile spread across your face. “You wanna practice?”

“Whoa. Relax, ma. This is a public space.”

[jacksdinonuggets]

Big Kids Have Accidents too

Summary: Vaggie has been very busy and stressed with new members of the hotel. She barely has time to take breaks and ends up having an accident while big. The accident causes her to panic-slip into her small space but thankfully has Charlie to help her.

Requested by my friend again! (Don't know if they wanna be tagged or not)

It was another stressful day in the hotel. After Charlie had managed to prove that redemption worked, they have been getting a lot more residents for the hotel. Well, if you count 4 more sinners a lot. It had been very exciting for everyone and Charlie was ecstatic that her dream would actually come true.

With the extra people living there, came a lot more busy days. Take this day, for example, where Vaggie had to already break up 3 fights and it wasn’t even lunch yet. She barely had any time to do anything she wanted to today. Every time she tried to do any type of self-care hygiene stuff, she was immediately brisked away to help out with stuff. She had to lead another trust-fall exercise after doing lots of paperwork and it was really starting to stress her out.

“Alright, everyone! We are doing trust falls. Each of you will share something vulnerable about yourself and then fall into the crowd. Got it?” She asked in front of the small group they had. Charlie volunteered first and almost everyone caught her, which was really good. After seeing everyone catch her, a couple people started doing it as well. However, as they continued, Vaggie started to feel off. Like she was restless. But she couldn’t exactly put a finger on why. The anxiety of all the things she needed to do after this was clouding her brain.

Vaggie kept tapping her foot rapidly, obviously feeling tense about something. Though, her brain was so packed that she couldn’t tell if it was something physical or mental. However, due to this, she had separated herself from the group, too caught up in her own thoughts, and a packet of legal work she needed to finish up. If she couldn’t focus on the activity, then it was better if she put her mind to something productive. However, Charlie began to notice soon after the group started on other games.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked. Vaggie jumped in her seat, startled by the sudden presence.

“Uh, yeah, I’m uh, good,” She replied, barely even glancing up at Charlie. The princess frowned, not exactly looking for that answer. But before she could even say anything, Vaggie glanced at her watch and got wide eyed

“Shit! It’s almost lunchtime, I need to get started on the food,” She said, trying to rush off to the kitchen. She was supposed to have everything prepared!

“Vaggie! Wait!” Charlie followed her, stopped her in the dining room/mess hall, “Alastor can handle it. Plus you do enough cooking as it is, you deserve a break,” 

“I don’t trust anything that a cannibal makes. How do we know he doesn’t use human or, hell, angel meat in it?!” Vaggie refuted, “Just let me do my job as manager,” 

Charlie was about to hold her hand to comfort her but something caught her eye. A little puddle dripping and forming underneath Vaggie. She was a bit shocked at first and made a little face, causing Vaggie to be confused and looked down to see what she was gawking at.

Vaggie was absolutely horrified when she saw the puddle. She just had an accident, and she wasn’t even small. She took a step back, her breathing starting to pick up to an unusual rate. This couldn’t be happening! She was supposed to be the badass protector of the hotel and yet she had a wetting accident without even being in the mentality that someone who struggled with accidents would be in.. This was bad. Was something wrong with her? Was she just being a weak stupid baby?!

“Vaggie, hey, sweetie, it’s okay, it was an accident,” Charlie took a step forward (around the puddle), “Shh, you’re alright, take a few deep breaths for me, okay?”

Vaggie tried, she really did, but it was really hard. Her brain was starting to slip due to her panic, which made it difficult for her to calm down. She aggressively scratched her hands, her brain tricking her into thinking they were itchy, but really she was just anxious and needed something to do with her hands.

“No, no, don’t do that, sweetheart,” Charlie held both of her hands lightly but rubbed them a little to satisfy the itching. Vaggie made whines and whimpers, trying to pull her hands away. So to help her calm down, Charlie hugged and rocked her back and forth while singing one of Vaggie’s favorite lullabies.

Luckily, the singing worked and Vaggie’s breathing slowed down to a normal pace. She wanted to keep hugging her Mama but her legs and crotch were starting to feel really uncomfortable

“Mama... is uncomfy…” She mumbled. 

“I know, honey, but Mama’s gonna get you a bath soon, alright?” Charlie offered. The little one nodded and was lead upstairs to get her bath. Though, before that, Charlie made sure to alert Nifty that there had been a little lemonade spill in the mess hall that needed to be cleaned up.

Once they were upstairs in the nursery, Charlie turned the water on in the tub and began to undress her baby. The bath was then filled with bubbles and rubber duckies to keep her little one occupied as she cleaned her up.

Bathtime was pretty quick without much fussiness or splashing. Vaggie mainly just played with the duckies and bubbles as Charlie did all the work. When she got out, she was wrapped in a towel and her hair was towel dried. She was changed into a diaper so she wouldn’t have any accidents that made her feel upset, and then put her in a long sleeve onesie with her thigh high fluffy socks.

After making sure Vaggie was completely okay, she carried her back downstairs, realizing she had just left the group unattended. She explained to the residents that Vaggie was an age regressor and currently was little. No information about what caused her to slip was told, as Vaggie wasn’t comfortable telling the new people that she had an accident while fully big. 

Luckily, the new residents were accepting, though not all were ‘out-of-their-way’ supportive. They let her join in on the activities and didn’t judge whenever she needed a break from everything. Charlie was proud of her little one and the new residents. She had high hopes for them getting redeemed. Though, watching them interact with Vaggie made her think of a new idea. Maybe teaching people to be caregivers could be another activity for redemption? Charlie quickly wrote that idea down in the notes app on her phone before going back to watching Vaggie as she played with a couple of blocks.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

4, 5, 7, 14

(Okay I really liked these ones fyi)

4. Rank the main 7.

  Ooh tough one. I guess right now, in order of favorite to least favorite, I’d have to go Sodapop, Two-Bit, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, Dally, and then finally Darry. But it’s pretty close, and the order changes day by day honestly- I like all of them a lot, y’know? I guess the only one I don’t think about too often is Darry. I still like him and think he’s a really well-written character- I just don’t have a lotta original thoughts about him, is all, whereas I do about all the others. 

5. What are your fave ships?

  In a truly shocking turn of events, I, a frequent draw-er and writer of Stevepop, am going to say Stevepop. I dunno, something about them just makes me happy. Reminds me of like…daydreams I had when I was twelve and crushing on my best friend, and trying to get her attention by doing stupid things and whatever…god I don’t really know how to explain why I like it. Before this fandom I didn’t usually ship things, to be honest. But I guess when I did it’d be stuff like Jesslake in Infinity Train, where it’s the sorta thing that can be seen as platonic or romantic. I reckon Stevepop scratches a similar itch in my brain lol

  But I also really like Marcia x Two-Bit, which I haven’t really talked about here much- They had good chemistry, y’know? I oughta draw something about them sometime

  And then finally there’s my DIY crack-ish ship Soda x Steve x Evie. I like them! It’s all the things I like about Stevepop, plus there’s a cool girl in the mix! I love cool girls! More folks should think about them i think

  I do like other ships okay too- like the Tarry crowd has dragged me in, and sometimes the Jally crowd does too, along with Purly and occasionally Johnnyboy. I’m not an active participant, but when I come across it, I sorta mentally nod and say “nice”, you dig? They’re like…my ship-in-laws. Or like…milk duds and hershey bars- candy I still enjoy, but reach for only after I’m out of milky ways and twizzlers.

7. What are your fave non-romantic relationships? (This can be close friends, familial, enemies or even just acquaintances)

  Two-Bit and Pony! I like them a lot. Their interactions in the book were some of my favorite parts. That line when Two-Bit was worried about Ponyboy using that broken bottle on the Socs…ugh that part was great. I remember reading it for the first time and just sitting there thinking about how much I liked that detail.

  Then on the opposite side of the coin, Steve and Pony lol. I LOVE how Pony doesn’t initially like Dally or Steve, and yet Dally’s chill with Pony…but with Steve the disdain is mutual. Jk I don’t think Steve really hates Pony- but he definitely thinks Pony’s kinda annoying. I like the idea of him watching out for Pony anyways though, like at school especially now that Soda’s not going.

14. Tell us five of your headcanons you basically see as canon

Sodapop has ADHD and maybe (?) dyslexia, but it’s the 60s so he won’t find out till he’s well into adulthood

Marcia gave Two-Bit her real number, and was disappointed when he didn’t call it. I like to imagine they end up remeeting at some point and going out together- even if that’s kinda unrealistic lol

Steve hated Dally when he first rolled into town, because Dally was everything he really wanted to be- tough, cool, and street-smart. And he was also scared of losing Soda, who thought Dally rocked- because Dally’s from New York and rides in rodeos! Eventually they became buddies though when Dally gave Steve a compliment or something. Not even a particularly good one- something like “Hey you ain’t bad at fighting”- just barely enough for Steve to feel like Dally’s earned a little bit of his loyalty. Might write fic/make a comic for this- it’s kinda niche but I think the idea is funny

Steve and Soda secretly listen to the Beach Boys at the DX. They can’t tell anyone because it’s not tuff to like a dumb California band. And Ponyboy would like the Beatles if he listened to them, but he doesn’t, so he won’t realize that until years after Beatlemania has died down

Steve is not just a Ponyboy hater but also a horses-in-general hater. He thinks horses are scary and unpredictable and that cars were invented for a reason. He was secretly relieved when Mr. Curtis stopped Soda from riding rodeos, because seeing Soda on a crazy horse gave him mad anxiety. Pretended he was sad though for Soda’s sake

Thanks so much for asking!! I loved answering these so much lol, definitely let me know your thoughts too on ‘em!

[therealeagal]

Thoughts on: Not voting (2024)

Decide for yourselves whether my words have value or if they are naught but the ravings of a madman.

Whichever you decide, don't @ me, bro. I'm not here to debate. Just to pontificate.

Let's begin.

I have seen discourse of late that people do not wish to vote in the upcoming POTUS election, for reasons that include but are not limited to Donald Trump being a piece of shit, and also Joe Biden selling weapons to Israel, thus making him complicit in that thing that's happening with Israel and Palestine. Are we allowed to use the G word? Idunno.

Lots of the anti-not-voting crowd will try to talk down to you, insinuate that you're probably just a Russian troll or a moron or something.

Not me. Although I too am anti-not-voting, I want to try something different, to wit: I understand.

I get it. I appreciate that Joe Biden is shit. Certainly he's not the shittiest shit that ever shat. He's not even shitty shit. Just regular shit.

If we're being fair (although I don't know why we would be. This is tumblr after all), Biden has done lots of good stuff while in office. I mean, I don't know what any of them are, but I saw a list floating around a while back that had a bunch of stuff on it that Biden had done right. I think there was something about insulin being price capped? I'm prepared to accept out of hand the possibility that there exists things that Biden has done right. Mainly because I'm too lazy to look it up and also don't really care enough about Biden's merits beyond "He's not Trump" to bother.

But yes, good stuff or not, Biden is shit. He may have done good things, but he has also done shitty things. Things which include but which are not limited to that thing that's happening with Israel and Palestine, the status of which remains in limbo, viz a viz, the G word.

Of all the shitty people that have ever lived, Joe Biden is one of them.

And I appreciate that both candidates are senile and decrepit and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and.

I get it.

I perfectly understand all the reasons you have to not vote. In fact, I could probably give you a few more. Like "He's not The Real Eagal." which is in my incredibly humble and completely non-biased opinion the best possible reason to not vote for someone.

In difference circumstances, I wouldn't vote for Biden either if I were you.

But Trump is worse. You get that, right? Biden and Trump are both terrible in different ways, but they are not equally terrible. Trump is worse. On a terribleness scale of 1 to 10, Biden is a two. Trump is an eleven. Hundred. Thousand. Million.

He could be up against literally Sauron and Trump would still be worse. At least Sauron came by it honest. He built his evil empire without help from anyone. Morgoth was already...wherever Morgoth ended up after Eru Iluvatar slapped him down to remind him who's daddy. Ok, he did have Celebrimbor's help to make the rings of power, but didn't he make the One Ring on his own? All I'm saying is, I'd rather have Sauron in office than Donald Trump.

Trump is literally deciding who he wants his next VP to be based on how much he wants to fuck their wives. Sauron wouldn't decide who his cohorts were based on how much he wants to fuck their wives. Sarumon didn't even have a wife.

Plus, Biden's not gonna last 4 more years. He's like a jillion years old. He'll croak 2 days after inauguration. And even if he did last all four years, the world can survive four more years of Biden. A bowling alley couldn't survive four more years of Trump.

And if Kamalah Harris is still Biden's VP when he kicks the bucket, it would probably kill off a few Republicans. Their brains would explode at the mere thought of a black woman president. That's what we in "The Biz" call a win-win.

No one will like to hear this, but there's nothing you can do to stop the world from being shitty today - today meaning this current era, not literally this specific day. Sorry, kids, but that ship has sailed.

Voting for Biden won't make the sun rise. It won't make the grass grow, it won't make the birds sing. Voting for Biden won't Save Our Democracy™ BUT speaking only for myself, I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say that if Trump gets re-elected there's a good chance that there won't be another election, notwithstanding all the other many and varied reasons Trump getting back into office would be a terrible idea.

No question that in ideal times both Trump and Biden would already be swinging from the gallows and we'd be voting between Jesus and Buddha. Personally, I'll vote Buddha. For two reasons. 1: Jesus' fan club is kind of insufferable. No offense, big J, but you gotta give those people a good long talking-to if you want my vote. And 2: According to the excellent documentary series Record of Ragnarok, Buddha is an amazing fighter. He fought a fuckin' monster from hell and won. Dude's a badass.

But these are not ideal times in which we live. Again, no one will like to hear this, but the lesser of two evils, however unpleasant it may be, can be a necessary evil. And Joe Biden is, without question, the much much MUCH lesser evil.

Compromise is a four-letter word, but needs must, as they say, when the Devil drives. And if we want there to be a better tomorrow - for some people it will be "if we want there to even be a tomorrow at all" - we gotta hold our nose and vote Biden.

You got a better idea? One that doesn't involve crashing a bus into the nearest combination orphanage/puppy store in the hopes that the resultant tragedy will cause the downfall of civilization and Civilization 2 will work better because we already worked out all the kinks the first time? Even though the whole reason you got rid of the first one is that you hadn't worked out all the kinks and were too lazy to finish the job?

Not voting doesn't work. You can boycott a business. Maybe. You can't boycott a government. They're already in control. They're not going to change that just because some rando decided he's guilty

And I mean, there are other ways to deal with an unruly government. France is quite famous for its ideas on the subject, but if we're taking votes on that avenue, I'm going to have say "nay." The last thing anyone needs right now is another damn Napoleon.

So maybe tomorrow - "tomorrow" here meaning the next era, ten or twenty or thirty or forty or fifty or however many fuckin' years down the line - Joe Biden will be dead and good riddance to his wrinkly old ass and we'll get the chance to vote for someone else. Among all the shitty people who have ever lived, this future someone won't be one of them probably. I'll bet my bottom dollar on it.

It could happen. In an infinite universe all things are possible, so maybe.

And whatever of the many flaws that Joe Biden possesses, Trump has all these and more.

Joe tacitly endorses violent suppression of protests? Trump had a group of protestors gassed so that he could get a photo-op in front of a church.

Joe has a tendency to get a bit handsy with women? Trump is a rapist.

Joe is kinda racist in that way that old people are kinda racist without being overtly anti-minority? Trump is a Nazi. Or at least extremely Nazi-adjacent.

Joe is drinking the Israel kool-aid? Didn't Trump move the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem or some shit, thus clearly favoring Israel over Palestine? Something to that effect? I remember that something like that happened and it being kind of a big deal. Yes? No? Maybe so? Regardless, do you think that Trump wouldn't mainline the kool-aid? He'd be selling Irsael nukes inside of a week.

Joe vaguely shady? Vaguely criminally shady? Trump is a convicted felon. 34 counts, wasn't it? Plus like a hundred more indictments or some shit on top.

While it is true that not voting won't directly put Trump back in the White House, it certainly won't help keep him out of it.

So my advice to you, my children, is this: Vote Biden. Don't do it because you want Biden to be president. Do it because you don't want Trump to be president.

Don't vote for the betterment of mankind. Or the United States. Or your individual state. Don't even vote because the cool kids are voting. Don't vote because you particularly give two soggy shits about the future.

Vote out of spite. Do it to spite Trump. Do it out of the pettiness of not wanting Trump to be president. Not for any of his policies, but just because his face is stupid.

Little known fact: the very first listed dictionary definition for "stupid" is literally "Trump's face". Don't check. It's in there. Trust me.

Vote against Trump because New York isn't a nice town, despite the fact that they named it twice on the strength of its alleged niceness. Sorry, New Yorkers. I don't make the rules.

Vote for Biden because you just really hate people from Queens, New York, New York. Sorry, Queens residents. I don't make the rules.

Vote against Trump because you hate orange people. Yes, even that orange Monstar from Space Jam.

Vote for Biden because you thought Home Alone 2 was a terrible movie.

Vote against Trump because he named his son after himself.

Vote for Biden because the only creature in this or any universe that deserves to be named Donald is Donald Duck. And maybe Donald Glover. Beyond that, we can play it by ear.

Vote against Trump out of sheer, unrelenting, seething hatred for people whose middle names are John.

Vote for Biden because Trump appeared on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that one time and said that he likes to keep a low profile.

There are many many many many many good reasons to not vote for Joe Biden. Do it anyway.

Gather together all of the good reasons that you possess and throw them out the window, along with any clocks you have on hand. And maybe a horse. And some butter. And a dragon if you have any.

Vote for Biden anyway. Not because he deserves it. But because Trump deserves it even less than Biden does.

If you vote I will give you one compliment of your choice. Are you waiting for someone to notice how great your new haircut makes you look?

Maybe you've been hitting the gym a lot more lately, and want someone to appreciate all the muscle you've packed on.

Maybe you finally nailed YYZ on the drums and want props.

Now's your chance. All you need to do is get out there and vote for Biden this November. Or whenever election day is. Pretty sure it's in November. Like, the 7th or some shit. Idunno. Look it up yourself.

And once you do that, you may return here for your compliment.

Unless that counts as election interference. If it does then I won't give you a compliment. You will have to settle for being one of my wonderful followers. And if you're not, maybe you should be. Because I compliment my followers all the time. Even the bots. I am down with the 101001, my robotic followers. Consider it a loophole. But I don't think it counts as election interference, so we're probably in the clear either way.

P.S. If you disagree with me for any reason, please refrain from interacting with this post, because I do find dissent to be terribly irritating. Please and thank you. :)

P.P.S. I will, however, welcome abject praise. If you want to give it. Your choice.

P.P.P.S. This is a post-script.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

so i'm supposed to be working on my sterek wip—and i am! i wrote about 1k today—but bc of all you lovely mutual's and folk i follow now also into buddie (main culprits being @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius and @angela-feelstoomuch) and ofc bc of bi!buck confirmed, i've started ploughing through 911 over the last few weeks like a bloodhound chasing a rabbit through the woods and have consequently, inevitably, started a buddie wip. fml. anyways, it's all your lot's fault so here, have just under 1k of my first buck pov buddie quarantine wip and everyone pls forgive my adhd writing brain lol.

.

Eddie was so fucking drunk. And it wasn't really either of their faults.

Because daytimes? When they weren't on shift? They were easy.

In the daytime there was just so much stuff to do with Christopher. So many games to play and so many cool things Buck was finding he could teach the little guy. And there were things that Christopher was teaching Buck, too, like, did you know that a crocodile can't stick out its tongue? Because Buck didn't, not until Christopher told him. And how cool is that?

The three of them—Buck, Christopher and Eddie—had started a Strip Jack Naked tournament and they now played it every night that he and Eddie were home, just before bath and bedtime stories. Turns out Christopher loved card games, and loved the rude name given to Buck and Maddie's childhood favourite even more, because what ten year old wouldn't? There was obviously zero stripping involved; Buck didn't even know why it was called what it was called, only that it was super fun, and just about easy enough for Christopher to learn but not so easy he'd get bored too fast, y’know? And what was funny was that the little dude hadn't even won a single round yet, and that somehow hadn't seemed to deter the slugger in his efforts one bit. Quite the opposite, actually. He'd warned, “Just you two wait,” and had this look on his face that said he was determined to become a grandmaster and beat Buck at his own game—or, even better, beat his Dad and win the prize of Eddie having to tidy Christopher's room for a week (a suggestion of Buck's that Eddie had not been overjoyed about).

In turn, Buck and Eddie had now lost countless games of Mario Kart to the kid; been repeatedly humiliated at Pictionary (the kiddie version); and each had the least amount of kudos points for Misfits, a game that Eddie apparently used to play with his sisters. It was another drawing-type one, where each player took a body section on their turn—head, torso and arms, or legs and feet—and then folded the paper over to hide the result until everyone was done and Christopher would unfold the paper and they'd all cry with laughter at the results. Misfits didn't even technically have any winners or losers, but hey, try telling Christopher that.

Evenings, though? The few hours left between Christopher's bedtime and Eddie and Buck turning in for the night? They were tougher.

Tough on Buck, at least.

See, he'd had this dream, a few weeks back. A dream about—well.

About Eddie.

In the dream, Buck had been washing the dishes in Eddie and Chris's apartment after Eddie had made another attempt at cooking his abuela's delicious Barbacoa recipe (Buck had tasted the real deal once when Isabel had come to stay and Eddie had invited Buck over to dinner), and Eddie had suddenly crowded into him from behind, crushing the length of his body up against Buck's back and reaching around to circle soft but firm hands around Buck's wet wrists. Startled and confused, Buck had open opened his mouth to say something when Eddie had placed his hot mouth onto the sensitive spot on Buck's neck, just below his right ear and—

Buck had woken abruptly, writhing and twitching and groaning, jizz spilling all over his freshly changed bed sheets.

After that, evenings were a challenge.

They were now made up of all the usual fun and dumb stuff that Buck and Eddie got up to, plus the occasionally deeper topics in their lives that they both seemed to struggle with but tried their best to share with each other, but there was also Don't look too long at Eddie's hands, and Don't look at Eddie's mouth while he speaks, and Don't check out Eddie's ass in those jeans I'd told him he should definitely buy when the shops were still open and the world hadn't yet gone to shit and I wasn't losing my damn mind.

Buck had moved into Eddie and Chris's place when Quarantine hit because it had just made sense, and over the course of the last six months he had somehow managed to fall in lust with his best friend.

So, times when they both had tomorrow off work, and when the confinement got to be a little too much, they would drink. Sometimes a little too much. One of them always stayed relatively sober though, just in case Chris needed something in the night, and tonight, Buck had been allowing Eddie to enjoy himself because the guy hardly ever really let his hair down, and he deserved to.

Eddie got giggly when he drank Tequila, Buck noticed.

They'd already sunk a few beers prior to cracking open the bottle of Cazadores Reposado, and after Buck had stopped at two shots but Eddie had continued, Eddie had become progressively loose and was now starting to giggle like a frickin schoolgirl. Which, embarrassingly, seemed to be doing things to Buck—not that Buck had a thing for school girls, jesus no, it was just that Eddie sounding so soft and vulnerable and happy was something that apparently really did it for Buck.

Fuck his life.

The guy also got very touchy-feely on tequila, too.

They'd migrated from the kitchen table to sitting so close to each other on the sofa that they were permanently touching, as well as all the times Eddie kept nudging his shoulder further into Buck's and squeezing his hand on Buck's knee. Then his thigh.

Seriously, fuck Buck's life.

The way Eddie had gotten so comfortable with touching Buck was becoming a majorly uncomfortable situation for Buck to have to deal with. Not because Buck didn't want the attention, but because he really fucking did.

And that was a problem, for a few reasons.

Reason one was that Buck wasn't gay, and didn't really understand these feelings he was having.

Reason two was, as far as Buck knew, Eddie wasn't gay either.

Reason three (and Buck's biggest fear) was Buck being terrified of losing what he had with Eddie. He loved Eddie, and Christopher, and he was pretty sure they loved him back—and he certainly wasn't about to let his rabid and confusing libido ruin any of that.

Drunk Eddie, though? It seemed Drunk Eddie really had it in for Buck tonight.

.

fingers crossed i can finish it before buck goes insane! xp

[statementlou]

Hi! Louis rocked last night! Do you know what was so special about the post malone song?

like why did Louis pick it? I mean obviously I/ we can't know, and I assume he likes the song for starters (he followed Post Malone on insta a couple years ago, for what it's worth). And him and the band were able to make it work, it sounded great in the set and sounded great with his voice, so he must have seen that potential in it. But the lyrics are wild for Louis to be singing and the fact that they echo like half of his songs and pretty much all his other covers in theme makes it pretty hard not think that's why, that it is a song that grabbed him and resonated with him, or at minimum that it being so parallel to KMM was a factor. Also I think he likes being a little daring and getting to sing explicit stuff and being like ooooh I'm really not in a teen pop boyband anymore I can do songs about getting my brains fucked out (not that he ever let that stop him😂). Plus as @goldcrumble pointed out, the nod to Seven Nation Army (the song that the crowd chant to him in latam especially and they've teased covering) in the lyrics is hilarious, it wouldn't be our SBB Louis if he did something simple and unlayered without a clever little extra, bless him🥰 (lyrics under the cut)

Oxytocin makin' it all okay When I come back down, it doesn't feel the same Now I'm sittin' 'round, waitin' for the world to end all day 'Cause I couldn't leave you if I tried

You break me, then I break my rules Last time was the last time too It's fucked up, I know, but I'm still

Outside of the party, smokin' in the car with you Seven Nation Army, fightin' at the bar with you Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do 'Cause I can't let go, it's chemical No, I can't let go, it's chemical

Every time I'm ready to make a change You turn around and fuck out all my brains (woo) I ain't tryna fight fate, it's too late to save face I can't get away, maybe there's no mistakes (maybe there's no mistakes)

You break me, then I break my rules Last time was the last time too It's fucked up, I know, but I'm still

Standing outside of the party, smokin' in the car with you Seven Nation Army, fightin' at the bar with you Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do 'Cause I can't let go, it's chemical (chemical) No, I can't let go, it's chemical (chemical) No, I can't let go, it's chemical

I can't let go, it's chemical

Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do No, I can't let go, it's chemical

[spotaus]

Wooooo Ccino and Killer interaction-dump post (Kinda gonna be a collection of me actively rambling to figure out their situation-) (and @ancha-aus just in case! This is a reply of sorts to several of ur tags that I have been combining in my brain-)

Established: At first Ccino and Killer are at odds. Night cares deeply about Ccino and has told Killer not to mess with him. So, Killer restrains himself from poking (too much) fun or getting in his way. Ccino tries to avoid Killer as much as he can, largely just because he thinks Killer is a threat to Nightmare. If Killer heard their conversations, saw the way they interacted, and spoke up more it coukd shake the tenuous hold Night has on the throne.

Concept Stuff:

So, I think that after that interaction where he runs into Ccino and Night he starts paying way closer attention, kinda out of curiosity but eventually out of a weird sense of loyalty. (This is MY king. Only I can tease him and judge him.) Kinda way. Plus, Nightmare does implement Killer's skills. (Killing). He always seems to search for every other solution before that, though. It's only last resort that he sends Killer to hunt a person down. (At first it's a traitor in the castle, one of the guard. Then it's someone in a nearby town. The town was also kinda a test to ensure Killer would come back w/o a leash. And he did.) And Killer notices that starkly.

Anyways, point is, I think Ccino gains more acceptance w/ Killer being present mainly because it makes Night happy. But also. Maybe a moment of Nightmare making one of his rare public appearances, and Killer suddenly darts off away from Nightmare. Night let's it happen, assuming there's good reason, and spots that Killer had made his way into the crowd and. Ah, someone with a bow. Probably ab assassination attempt. Killer had just gone for it before Night even registered a threat at all. And when Night reports this to Ccino he has to give Killer some credit.

Then, as the others arrive, Killer and Ccino come to a silent understanding that Night expects Killer to teach the others the ropes. That he *is* a Knight now. And so Killer starts guiding the others (sometime before they get Dust, Killer was given his mask + told about the prophecy.) And in the meantime he has to get used to working around Ccino. Mutual Respect era where Killer and Ccino kinda work around eachother but they're both really loyal to knight so they let eachother do their thing.

This era is *also* when Killer learns all the cats tend to end up at Ccino's and he invites himself in (usually when Ccino is out working). Of course, the cats are at first tentative of Killer being inside, but they've seen him around and gotten treats from him before so they warm up. Which progresses to Killer just walking in one day and laying on the floor, much to Ccino's confusion, before his cats all do that lil 'brr?' Sound and rush to smother Killer. And Ccino just has to live with it.

Then ofc by the time they have everyone there's still definitely a distance between Ccino and Killer, but not nearly as bad. (Killer's first instinct is *not* to get Ccino when Night turns small. He wants to be the one to comfort Night, tbh, but he knows it's for the best and sends for him anyways.)

And then when Night is small, Killer has that brief period where he plays face-man until Night gets back on his feet, so he and Ccino are suddenly forced to really communicate after 7 odd years. And... they do fine? Killer's snarky and Ccino doesn't baby him, but it works out.

And THEN Night is taken by Dream.

When this happens, Killer is inconsolable. (Out for like 2 days from magic overexhaustion + grevious injury) and he just can't believe he let them take Nightmare. His little brother. Normally he can control himself, but he was unstable, and lashed out at his fellow knights in an attempt to get back on his feet. Ccino got in the way and shoved him back down to his bed (Night would never forgive him if he hurt Ccino) and Ccino forced him to rest. And in this recovery time, Ccino exerted himself a lot, split between helping Dust play face-man, Cross managing the chaotic guard, his own work in the castle, and Killer's recovery. But Ccino knows how much Killer means to Night. To everyone. So he cares for him diligently.

^This period is where I think they finally establish that close, close bond. It's not because Ccino is caring for Killer (that bit actually makes Killer incredibly uncomfy) but because they both lost the person who made their lives bareable. Killer wouldn't have done what he did for any other King. Ccino would've been in a harem against his will if it weren't for Night. They just... commiserate over it. And they get to see more of eachother through that.

Later on, when Night is back, of course Ccino holds him tight and cries a little because. Yeah. He was afraid. But he finds it's not as hard to let him go so he can be by Killer's side. (And for the record, Killer, who simply has never cried since working for Night, immediately just tears up the moment Night bursts through the door and runs up to him. Those bone-crushing hugs where you can feel the other person shaking? That's what Killer does to Night for a long bit.)

And then as Night gets back into the swing, as Reaper visits, Ccino decides to stay with Killer unless Night needs him. The other Knights can look after him well, and Night trusts Ccino to care for Killer and vice versa. So it's Ccino giving updates on how it's going w/ this other King, and it's Ccino who convinces him not to go running off first chance he gets.

I think it's after the treaty is settled that Ccino takes some time to connect with Killer honestly. Maybe, even, he goes to Nightmare. Of course, Nightmare is *always* happy to help Ccino, because Ccino has helped him so much. It's rare that Ccino comes to him with anything he might see as burdensome. But Ccino goes to him, because he and Killer are Night's too closest confidante, and he doesn't want to risk making Night uncomfortable. He brings up that he's been around Killer a lot more often, and basically asks permission to go and attempt to court Killer.

And there's a moment when Night's brain short-circuits because. ??? Those two? But then he has an answer quixk and shirt which is: I don't own you, I don't own him, you don't have to ask me if you're *allowed* to do anything. And of course he follows it up with the fact that he appreciates the warning, but fr he doesn't mind. They're both deeply important to him and he's glad they're getting along so well! And he promises support to Ccino in any way he needs, including re-scheduling trainings with Killer and instead sending him to guard Ccino next time he runs to market so they can ho on a date!

And the scheme works WONDERS because Killer's old feelings bubble up hard and fast. But he waits a few days, thinks it over, and then HE goes to Nightmare prepared to be smote by the angry stare of his little brother- telling him he'd like to court Ccino. And Nightmare is just like ???? Guys fr, you don't act me about personal stuff like this usually? I'm glad you value my opinion so much but go! Be in love! I'm your employer not your overlord! Love and let love! And Killer is just so relieved. (And they have a talk about *why* Killer was hesitant abd Night feels SO awful for making him feel that way- )

But yeah. Then those two just get closer and closer. And I'm ending the post with a quick bonus note:

Ccino's cats! I have so many thoughts about these strays that all look at Ccino and go 'Father!! Here is a gift!!' Every time he's in public or around. And the cats telling on Killer abd People.

Like, Ccino's cats sus out spies long before they can get anywhere. (Hiss or yowl at people they deem 'bad' in their kitty brains.) The ones around the castle watch out for Nightmare in those rare times when he's alone (Run off to get Ccino if he's in distress. Sone curl on his lap or by his sides and purr. Night has ALSO never harmed a cat. Tbf I don't think he'd harm *any* animals but still.) And notoriously, they love to snitch on the Knights. Especially Killer. Of course, they *love* Killer, but they love being menaces more :] their dad gives them treats if they're snitches :] .

Okay actually COMPLETELY unrelated thing, but I think there are also 3 dogs in the household of the castle by the end of the story. Horror has two work-dogs, an elderly one who was too old to work the farm, and a runt puppy who wouldn't have been much use. His brother wrote to him about it and Horror asked Night if he could adopt them. (Ofc Night said yes-) They're very good girls.

Then there's Cross' dog, which honestly they don't know if it *is* a dog? It's weird and exotic and during one of their black market busts late-story Cross found it and brought it back because it refused to run off like the other ones they set free. But it loves him to death so he was allowed to keep it. (It's probably a Borzoi or smth, a regal dog, pure white coat. Cross loves it so dearly.)

And. Obligatory: Dust is the Horse Girl. All the horses in the stable love him, and his own horse was one he tamed in his free time that had been wild and ornery. If anyone (main cast) is going riding, Dust is ALWAYS with them. No matter what. He knows how to keep the horses calm in emergency.

[darkenedroses-world]

Quiet Corners — Smii7y x Reader

gn!reader, sensory overload, hurt/comfort, gentle humour, request🦋

The party had been too loud. Music thumped through the walls like an endless heartbeat, voices overlapping in ways that made your head spin. You’d stayed as long as you could—longer than you thought possible—but eventually, it became too much. The chaotic energy, the chatter, the noise pressing against you from all sides. Now, you sat curled up on a quiet balcony, the evening air cooling the heat on your cheeks. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your sweater, grounding you in its familiar texture. The sound of the party buzzed faintly through the door behind you, but out here, it was muted, bearable. A familiar voice broke through your thoughts. “There you are. Thought I’d lost you.” You looked up to find Smii7y standing in the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His tone was light, but his gaze held that soft, knowing look he always seemed to have when it came to you. “Needed a break,” you said quietly. Smii7y nodded, stepping out and closing the door behind him to muffle the noise further. “Figured. I saw you making that face earlier. The one where you look two seconds away from flipping the table.” You huffed a small laugh. “I wasn’t gonna flip the table.” “Hey, it would’ve been iconic, but I get it.” He dropped into a seat next to you, careful not to crowd your space. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and the silence settled around you like a comforting blanket. The cool air, the distant chirp of crickets—it was enough to let you breathe again.

After a beat, Smii7y pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to you: a small, plastic trinket, one of those squishy fidget toys you’d once mentioned helped you calm down. “You brought this?” you asked, blinking in surprise. He shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. “I know you like having something to mess with. Plus, it’s better than you ripping your sweater apart.” You took the toy, squeezing it gently, the soft give of it easing the lingering tension in your hands. “Thanks,” you murmured. “Anytime.” Smii7y leaned back against the wall, stretching out his legs. “You know, I’m starting to think we’re the smartest ones here. They’re in there yelling about Mario Kart, and we’ve got the best seat in the house.” You smiled faintly, the corners of your lips twitching upward. “This is better.” He tilted his head, catching your eye. “Yeah? Good. I’d rather sit out here with you anyway.” His words were casual, effortless, but they warmed something inside you. Smii7y had a way of making you feel seen, like he understood without you needing to explain. You found yourself leaning back against the wall, mirroring his position. The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, the world feeling calmer with him beside you. Occasionally, you heard a burst of laughter or a yell from inside, but none of it mattered out here. “Did you always hate loud stuff like this?” he asked suddenly, voice soft as if he didn’t want to disturb the quiet.

You thought for a moment, hands still playing with the toy. “Yeah. It’s not really the noise itself, but… when there’s too much. Too many sounds, too many people talking at once. It’s like my brain can’t sort any of it out.” He nodded as if he understood perfectly. “Like opening fifty tabs in your browser and none of them loading.” You let out a laugh, more genuine this time. “Exactly like that.” Smii7y smiled, satisfied with your reaction. “See? I’m not just a pretty face. I get it.” You shook your head, but there was affection in the gesture. “You’re not as dumb as you act, huh?” “Don’t let that get around. I’ve got a reputation to protect.” He flashed a cheeky grin before glancing up at the stars just beginning to peek through the darkening sky. “You wanna stay out here a little longer?” “Yeah,” you said softly. “I like it here.” “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere.” And he didn’t. Smii7y stayed there with you, the two of you sharing quiet jokes and stolen glances at the starlit sky. The night stretched on, calm and kind, and for once, the world outside didn’t feel so overwhelming. With him beside you, this quiet corner of the world felt like yours.

[gangles-toybox]

UglyDolls shipping chart

Whoo boy so this orginal chart has been since deleted but people have uploaded their versions of it so I frankensteined this together + added Nolan. The explanations and list of the ships will be below the cut

OTP:

Lou x Ox: Listen I know Ox calls him like a brother but in my headcanon he only says that because he has #interalizedhomophobia. Anyways, I just love love the idea of them being toxic but also sweet together...idk chat they got somethin' to 'em!! I'm just like that one cow pic that's "man" like...wow they are so terrible together!!! I ship Ribbun what do you expect, lol

Lou x Moxy: Ok this one I can actually explain with real words a bit more. Firstly I like how in the Ugly Truth song I know this is apart of the whole manipulative stuff or whatever BUTTT i do like he says she makes him tongue-tied and calls her pretty before the back-up singers go in. I know, I know that's the point...but I mean...tongue-tied is an inherently romantic phrasing for me. Also I LOVE how Moxy is in the crowd smiling like an idiot as she's listening to him call everybody else ugly and she's the only one still smiling when her and crew gets the spotlight on them. I don't think she's stupid, considering none of the rest of them are smiling at this point AND she starts frowning once his "prettttttyyyyyyyyy" goes on for a bit..long..to the point she knows he's not being serious yk? Idk I just..love the idea of her being like a fangirl over his appearance, at least, and him finding it cute. Idkkk chat!! IdkkkK!!!

Like:

Tuesday x Kitty x Lydia: Idk I like the idea of them being poly together :3

Mandy x Kitty: Idk maniuplative girlboss toxicity yes yes. I chose Mandy and Kitty specifically because Kitty seems to be the leader of the pack of the spy girls/the most outwardly mean. I wanna see Mandy make a "not like other girls" meme with her and Kitty and Kitty gets on her about it before she realizes how pretty Mandy looks :>

Mandy x Nolan: They're both outcasts/"ugly", maybe they could get together or at least be friends!

Lou x Nolan: Nolan fawning over Lou and the first scene at the academy where Nolan is like "wait you criticized us because you love me?" and then Lou is like "yes" *looks away n back* "I love all of you" like...idk I think they could be cute together

Wage x Uglydog: Idk just a thought I had during the movie when Wage was getting on his ass about trying to rizz up everybody and failing. Horribly. Maybe she could rizz him up idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Moxy x Lucky Bat: Whoo I don't know just the way he talks to her during the tea scene and the way she kisses Ox on the cheek and pats his shoulder at the end of the first song makes it feel like to me he's getting friendzoned by her. Maybe I'm looking too much into things but that's the vibe I get. Plus idk...they could be kinda cute together...

Like/Neutral:

Babo x Lou: I don't know I like the tiny micro interaction they have in the Ugly Truth song. I don't have much of an excuse for this one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Babo x Wage: I like the idea of her coming home to her supportive hubby :3 idk it just clicks in my brain

Neutral:

Mandy x Moxy: Idk again it just doesn't click with me. I get the appeal 100% since Moxy is the first one to validate her for wearing glasses. But I dunno it feels weird for Moxy to say her glasses makes her who she is instead of her..personality? Idk. Maybe I'm being petty but it doesn't click for me. Respect it though.

Ox x Moxy: Idk it just doesn't click with me. Maybe it's because while searching for Lou x Ox stuff I saw someone mention that Moxy and Ox are "related" because the kids are related even tho it's never said in the movie. Maybe I see them more as friends. Idk. I respect it though and I think it's dumb to think they're related, if we're going by that logic you couldn't ship anybody cuz they're all made in the same factory. Edit: Got the reason wrong but I still think it's stupid to think it's bad to ship them. More info here:

**Edit: Ox x Lucky Bat: Damn I forgot these fuckers. Anyways, they're..alright. I like their colors though. Idk for me there's not enough there for me to ship them

Not Really:

Lou x Tuesday: He doesn't pay much attention to her. It feels like a hopeless fangirl falling for her favorite member of a boy band (which is fitting since Lou is voiced by Nick Jonas from the Jonas Brothers lol). Idk it doesn't seem Lou cares much about the spy girls unless they can do something for him, which is fine but I don't see the appeal personally. Respect those who do tho.

Lou x Mandy: .....okkkk listen ok I can't say shit about people who ship this or why I don't ship it because I ship fuckin Lou x Nolan and Lou x Moxy ok. I'm no stranger to shipping Lou with somebody he calls ugly lol is what I'm saying. But idk...Mandy doesn't seem to like him very much and he certainly doesn't like her but there's no small moment of something for me to ship them, like the "i love all of you" scene with Nolan or Moxy being a tiny fangirl. To me, it doesn't click. Respect those who do however. Again, I am a big rarepair/crackshipper I uh can't say shit about how much a ship makes sense to me lol.

[ineffableigh]

Timeline of Suspicious Events Brain Dump - PART 1

OK, I gotta get this out of my brain and onto some kinda page so here we go! Spoilers galore in here probably

I feel there's far too many instances of Incredibly Convenient Timing™ throughout season two so I gotta get these written down. Leaving out the minisodes for now since, until I watch them through again, I feel they're mainly there to provide character background and show Aziraphale's arc from naive to more understanding of the deep cruelty of Heaven. Dropping the rest under the cut!

Semi-chronological events:

Armageddidn't - Beelzebub and Gabriel discuss how that shit was supremely fucked.

Bar 1 and 2 - Beez and Gab meet up again and agree NOT to do Armageddon 2 Electric Boogaloo. NOTE: in BOTH these instances, the same two guys are at the table behind them playing chess, then cards. Very suspicious.

Bar 3 - Beez and Gab set up the Every Day phenomenon in Edinburgh and Gab receives the fly. I couldn't see the dudes from the previous bar in the background this time but not sure.

Heaven - Gabriel refuses to start Armageddon 2. They seem to move on.

Heaven - An unknown amount of time later, Gabriel is put on trial by the Metatron and sentenced to a big demotion. He 'goes to clean out his desk' and flees to Earth. CONVENIENTLY, the Metatron essentially lets him go ("Should we sound an alarm?" "Oh don't be so wet. You'll all just have to find him." This is suspicious because we KNOW the disdain he has for the angels' competence.)

We then see Aziraphale get the message from Maggie that she wants to talk, which has three suspicious elements for me: That she left a note instead of coming to talk to him, the misspelling (ugrency), and then the odd fake crying. Everything about this interaction feels strange and scripted for a planned interaction, whether Maggie knows it or not. Why did she wait 8 months to bring up the late rent?

Sometime after this, or perhaps during, Shax and Crowley discuss in the park about "something going down in the Up. UP up." I feel like this implies that Beez already knows Gab was getting fired, but I'm speculating heavily here. But clearly SOMEONE in Hell knows something was going on, OR Hell already knows about the Second Coming being on the agenda.

Gabriel arrives to GREAT AND DRAMATIC FANFARE at the Bookshop. Sure, a naked man is novel, but LOTS of weird people are constantly shown in the background of most outdoor shots throughout both seasons. I find it EXTREMELY STRANGE that the ENTIRE street plus cars all stop and crowd around to watch Gabriel arrive. The cars even block the streets! It's VERY strange.

Aziraphale calls Crowley, who's driving Somewhere™. They agree to meet at the cafe across the street. Awkwardness about the 'naked man friend' ensues, etc.

The two move to the bookshop and cross Maggie along the way. They make a point of having her call Aziraphale 'an angel' and refuse food. Likely a red herring but worth noting.

Crowley meets 'Jim' and loses his shit. I agree it's very Interesting™ that Crowley says to 'ask him properly', as this ties in to suspicious memory related stuff throughout the season.

Crowley leaves and gets hit by lightning. We see the lightning hit the cafe door and some lights. I do wonder WHY it did though - it didn't hit any other shops, why only Nina's cafe, and while Maggie happened to be there? AND it affected their phones? It's just a LOT to get them stuck in the cafe together 'til later.

Crowley gets summoned to Hell by Beez and the Housefly Brigade and learns about the Book of Life threat. We heard this over the phone with Michael earlier. Crowley doubts the existence of the Book, so we know there's a threat out there but can't be sure it's real.

SIDE THOUGHT: Michael says anyone involved could be struck from the Book of Life but at the end of e06, the Metatron says Michael 'has no such authority'. This brings up a huge 'who said what to whom?' gap we absolutely need to fill. Where did Michael get the Book of Life idea if not from the Metatron?

The Husbands do their giant miracle as a direct result of the above dubious threat, which directly triggers Heaven suspecting the bookshop as Gabriel's hideout. This is our first major 'convenient plot progression' flag, I think.

Next modern day segments are intercut with the Job minisode. Here we learn about the Every Day song that Gabriel, surprisingly, can remember. It feels likely that love can make you remember things you lost, so I doubt this particular event is Too Convenient.

On the other hand, it feels Too Convenient that of all the record shops, MAGGIE'S shop is the one supplying records to that particular pub up in Edinburgh? That seems an awfully long way off. It's like 7.5 hours!

Point 2: This interaction with Maggie is extremely strange. She's idly flipping through records until Aziraphale comes in, and then she stands there very blankly until bursting into very dubious tears about Nina. I don't know about you but I feel it very strange for anyone who WASN'T comfortable to directly come talk to their landlord to suddenly wax poetic about their 'doomed love life'. And then immediately pivot to the song/records/pub. We also learn Nina has a partner here but Azi just. Ignores this later?

IMMEDIATELY after this, the Archangels make a surprise visit and because Maggie's convenient outburst was on his mind, he pretends THAT was what the giant miracle was about. This is our second major 'convenient plot progression' flag.

Right after this is the meetup in the pub. CONVENIENTLY this is right when Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets) happens to be getting a drink, rather than running his store. He has his clipboard with him and everything, and pins the Monthly Shop Associates Meeting on Aziraphale. I think this is awfully convenient and becomes our third major suspicious plot flag.

After this, Aziraphale and Crowley discuss having to set up Nina and Maggie. These two dinguses go straight to 'we have to make them actually fall in love!' instead of coming up with a scam plan like they did in the Job minisode. I don't know what to make of this, but I figure the two of them are just so flustered by everything they don't come up with, well... a smarter plan.

IMPORANT: Before the Job Minisode the clock nearby says it's 5:20pm. When Aziraphale comes back from his apparent reverie, Crowley is gone and it's freaking 6:30pm! That's a big gap to fill.

UHHH HAVE WE DISCUSSED THE FACT THAT THE RESURRECTIONIST PUB ADDRESS IS 66 GOAT GATE EDINBURGH? 66 GOAT? THAT SEEMS VERY SUSPICIOUS DOES IT NOT?

Here Crowley learns a) that Maggie and Nina got stuck in the cafe together after his tantrum, b) Nina has a partner and c) Nina doesn't appear terribly interested in Maggie. He never seems to mention this to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale asks for the Bentley to go investigate the pub. I find it very strange that he's determined to go by car when car = 7.5hrs, train = 5hrs, and plane = 1.5hrs. Why you gotta leave for 16+hrs Aziraphale??

The next day, Muriel shows up to 'inspect' the miracle. Both Aziraphale and Crowley can see that they (Muriel) are out of their depth and extremely inexperienced. This is their SECOND chance to make shit up like they did with Job!

It really feels like Saraquiel was trying to do them a solid and they fuckin flubbed it lol

CONTINUE HERE: [linky]

[pantherxdrawz]

I’ve come with another Fan-Overblot I was intending to stop at Cater cause he was my favorite plus again *points to Overblot watchlist he should be on*

But I was listening to Novocaine, blacked out, and a Trey Overblot was on my screen

I might make this a design series at this point no promises though Anyways I’ve jokingly nicknamed him the Bone Fairy cause of that one Tumblr post pointing out its potential existence and someone put Trey over it (i dont have ether image saved) and my OB!Trey is essentially like a much larger and more hostile Tooth Fairy

I mean I seriously gave him a toothbrush as a weapon (not fully in frame but he’s got it)

Now there’s me talking about the design again + Lineart only bonus under the cut, I intended to include Cater’s in my OB!Cater design post but I forgot so yeah his linearts there too

And also Alt’s because OB!Trey has way more Alt’s than OB!Cater-

^ There’s your lineart + a Cater

v There’s your alts

C-can you tell I struggled to hell and back with the colors

Honestly this is my honest reaction trying to color this monstrosity

Anyways ignoring my piss poor coloring-

Onto inspiration and stuff for the design:

My inspirations where mainly dentists,

(because I heard Novocaine for the first time since becoming a TWST fan, I’ve heard the song in general before, and as I listened my brain immediately started pointing blinking arrows to Trey like “HmMM DOESNT THAT SOUND LIKE SOMEONE FROM THE NEW GAME YOU LIKE? HMMMMM? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM?”)

Alongside Tooth Fairy from Reverse: 1999 (mainly cause of the dentists), and The Mad Hatter

As for why I didn’t give him glasses, for one: it felt like they made his face too crowded with everything added on and two

Azul has glasses yet his Overblot doesn’t have glasses, just saying

(Yes it could be just because he’s an octopus and glasses don’t work in the sea but it’s 5x funnier to imagine Overblotting temporarily improves your eyesight because it doesn’t like nerds)

As for the blot design and placement for OB!Trey it is also more willy-nilly for his arms it’s kinda just slapped on like Cater’s was

but I also tried to make teeth like designs out of it, I don’t know if that’s actually possible but hey I don’t know if diamond hair or eyes are possible with Overblotting *stares at OB!Cater* so what do I know

With his face I also attempted to mimic Tattoos like how pretty much every canon Overblot is (even though the canon ones look a lot like lace or fishnet) with the large clover over his eye and the entire side of his face being covered with teeth markings (that sounds sus out of context-)

I don’t know how Trey would Overblot I just know he has the requirements and my OB!Trey would be a fucking nightmare especially if teaming up with OB!Cater like just you see a bunch of armored Cater clones with stitched smiles approaching you with pliers as they’re after your teeth it sounds ridiculous until you realize that Trey’s after your teeth and plans on leading you bleeding out unlike a NORMAL Overblotter who’d just squish you + OB!Cater’s clones are like a hydra but instead of it just being heads its the whole clone so if you where to kill one three more spawn in place so you have that.

Plus he covers more ground with the Cater army

And if he teams up with Riddle it’s just gonna be:

OB!Riddle: “OFF WITH ALL YOUR HEADS”

OB!Trey: “Can I have their teeth.” OB!Riddle: ”……………...*very hesitant* sure.”

OB!Trey: “OFF WITH YOUR HEADS”