#read along with sab

[lassieposting]

So anyway

I finished S2 firmly like "Nikolai and Kirigan should've been friends". Because they want the same fuckin things. They both want to end Grisha persecution, they both want to improve Ravka, they both want to end Lantsov corruption, they're both military, they're both willing to fight on the front lines or sacrifice for their people. Nikolai would've served under Kirigan during his military service, and seen him at court besides. They'd absolutely have hit it off.

But then I found out that Nikolai/Kirigan is actually a ship in this fandom. And I kind of get it? But mostly I'm cackling at the idea that like.

Nikolai is That Kid. The one that's like "I have a crush and I'm going to make it everyone else's problem."

It's like, a cute little hero-worship thing, at first? He's at that age where he's allowed to sit in on court proceedings, because even though he's the spare he's still expected to learn how to rule, and he's either just started his own military service or he's just about to, and unlike Vasily, he's proud to serve his country. And Kirigan is? Someone to look up to. Ravka has been at war for longer than Nikolai has been alive, besieged on all sides, and he knows that it's not his father the king who's keeping the Shu Han and the Fjerdans at bay. It's not Vasily, who's in his twenties now and would rather fritter away the country's coin on whores and horses than ever set foot on a battlefield. It's General Kirigan.

And - well, and the other chap, the First Army General in West Ravka, but Nikolai has never met him.

And like. Nikolai is a little people-pleaser. When he thinks of himself as king - which he knows is unlikely to happen, and he knows he shouldn't wish for it in the first place because the only way he'd ever get the throne is if something terrible happened to Vasily, he knows - but when he thinks of himself as king, he wants to think he'd be a good one. A benevolent one, who'd make life better for the common people and not just his own family. He pictures himself as a brave, respected leader of men. Independent. Strong-willed, driven, self-assured. Handsome. He pictures himself as someone like General Kirigan.

(He'll admit that, one day - the image he had of the Black General growing up, as the hero archetype a king ought to be - and Kirigan - Aleksander, by that point - will laugh himself stupid and say, "You're an appalling judge of character. There's too much monster in me to make much of a king." And maybe that's true - he knows Aleksander's done some terrible things, what soldier hasn't in war? - but he's Nikolai's monster, and Ravka's, keeping invaders away from their borders and assassins away from Nikolai's private rooms, so he'd argue that perhaps that's not entirely a bad thing.)

And, well, he gets a little older, and discovers that people are attractive, and childish hero-worship develops into full-blown hormone-addled teenage puppy love and. He's not subtle about it, like, at all.

It's like...Father invites the General to eat with the family one evening after a late meeting, and Nikolai bribes Vasily to switch seats so he can spend the evening charming his hero with his wit and maturity. What actually happens is that he goes all shy and mostly just Yearns™ across the table while all the adults present delicately ignore the moon-eyed elephant in the room.

He has a servant take some of his favourite books on military history over to the Little Palace, in case the General might like them, because he's fairly sure the Grand Palace library is..well...grander...than the Little Palace library. It literally does not occur to him how patronizing that is coming from a spotty sixteen-year-old with net zero victories to his name. He knows Kirigan must be a bit older than he looks - he swore the Grisha to the crown when Nikolai's grandfather was on the throne - but he has no idea that Kirigan served in the wars the books were written about.

When he's a little older and has more time to himself, he starts dropping in to visit at the Little Palace, which...isn't really the done thing, for some reason - none of his family ever have much call to visit outside of official events - but? Who's going to say no to the tsarevich? He has a tendency for a while to pop up wherever Kirigan is working and pelt him with enthusiastic questions - why did you form the Second Army? When did you build the Little Palace? Why do you bring all the Grisha to live here? Where did you grow up? What's the Cut? Can I see it? Why have you never brought your family to court? Do you have a family? Is there no Lady Kirigan? How long did it take you to make General? What did you do to get promoted?

Kirigan is polite. He answers harmless questions as honestly as he thinks he safely can - which lowkey affects how Nikolai's political opinions end up differing from his family's, because it turns out the General makes a lot of good points about how badly Grisha were and are treated outside the Little Palace, and it's not really Nikolai's place to have opinions on how his father rules but he thinks they should not be treated like that, maybe - deflects personal ones, entertains Nikolai's interest in strategy when he's in a good mood, gives him some harmless busywork tasks to do so he feels useful and lets Kirigan get actual work done. He's a bit flattered, even, that the boy sees him as a role model, because it's surprisingly easy to forget how impressive your military career has been, even in just this "lifetime", when all most people ever see when they look at you is the big bad scary Darkling. But at some point Nikolai does something stupid - tries to kiss him, gets too familiar, idk, he's like 17 and horny - that makes it blatantly obvious that he's misreading indulgence as interest, and Kirigan has to slam up some boundaries sharpish. Nikolai starts finding Fedyor posted outside the war room to tell him cheerfully that he's sorry, but the General is very busy and can't be disturbed.

(Fedyor and Ivan have been finding the blatant crush highly entertaining. Kirigan hasn't - he's fucking cringing on the inside - but he tolerates the subtle teasing from his heartrenders with something approaching good grace.)

Anyway, Nikolai grows up, spends years at a time away from the Grand Palace, has a pretty successful military career with the First Army and then amuses himself by turning privateer and fleecing the Fjerdans as Sturmhond. He grows up enough to realise how deeply cringey he was for a few years there, because he's gone through something similar with an overeager young deckhand who had a real thing for the Sturmhond persona. He's not far off thirty when Father has a heart attack and Vasily has a horse racing accident not long after and Nikolai finds himself recalled to Ravka to take the throne. He has to work closely with Kirigan, which suits him fine, because not only do they have compatible plans for Ravka, it turns out that as adult men on equal footing, they get on like a house on fire, and can even joke about his awkward younger self. And if he happens to...cross some conventions of propriety...well, he's old enough to know his own mind, and he's had it off with enough of his own crew to know how to balance a professional relationship and a personal one. Kirigan understands grief, understands pressure, understands having countless lives in your hands and no way to save all of them, and Saints know Nikolai needs to lean on someone, because Mother's too beside herself to have his fears and hurts on her shoulders too.

(Kirigan - Aleksander - understands that, too. Difficult mothers. Nikolai is learning all sorts of things about his General these days)

Actually you know what I've talked myself into the ship. This was supposed to just be a short post about the comedy potential of long-suffering Darkles dealing with a pampered princeling's obvious crush but have some headcanons instead bc all aboard the HMS Darkolai I guess

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Water is Thicker Than Blood Chapter 59

You got a little somethin on your suit there, Sabs

{Start} {Prev Next} {MasterPost}

FIN A L L YY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE ACT IS DONE!!!!!!! YIPPEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! I thought it would never end...

anywayyy~~~ expect a SBS Question post soon~ its been so long since the last SBS i cant wait to do this next one! i got so many doodles and things to point out, it'll be so much fun!

I cant believe we're on the 59th chapter. I've been chugging along... and I'll KEEP CHUGGIN!!!!! WE NOT STOPPIN ANY TIME SOON SO MUCH LEFT TO GOOOO~~~

Thank you so much for reading my silly little comic :) we've gotten so far that we've gotten to the Not Silly parts.

[hansensgirl]

❆ 𝑭.𝑯: 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑷𝑻𝑺 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑)

psstt! — minors, do not interact! 18+ only, just like my blog. do not plagiarize, copy, translate, repost, copy or recreate my writing on any other public platforms. heed the warnings, and remember you are responsible for your media consumption.

info. — in honour of the holiday season, mr. hansen has decided to open requests! how kind is he? they will be posted in the next week or so, and will be written by me (sab). if you ask nicely, the man himself will even make an appearance!

format. — the requests will be submitted to this form. you will select one character, one AU (if desired), one dialogue prompt, and one kink/key element. all concepts will be dark, no matter what. there is an option for you to leave your username so i can tag you when i post your request. you may always remain anonymous. all prompts were created by me, please don’t use them without my permission.

time. — concepts will be written and posted as fast as possible. by january 7th, 2024, they should all be completed. please bear with me, as i can be quite a slow writer. thank you for your patience.

note. — concepts that are bolded and have three asterisks (***) will be turned into full fics. the list can be found under the ‘read more’ cut, along with all the drabbles i’ve posted.

the form is now closed. thank you for all the submissions! requests will be posted in the next two weeks.

show mr. hansen your gratitude by sending a request! isn't he such a sweet man?

NAVIGATION. ❆ @hansensfics. ❆ NEON PALM.

Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming.

Andy Barber + Roommate/Tenant + “Isn’t it beautiful? Bullet proof, too.” + dumbification.

Andy Barber + Bookstore + “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” + kidnapping.

Natasha Romanoff + Neighbours + “I���ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will.” + sex pollen.

Johnny Storm + Sugar Daddy + “The night’s still young.” + obsession.

Jake Jensen + Step-brother + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + thigh riding.

Steve Rogers + Stepfather + “Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be playing this game?” + face-sitting.

Natasha Romanoff + Mob boss + “I think I like you better when you’re gagged and crying on my dick.” + humiliation.

Steve Rogers + Boyfriend’s dad + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + cum-play.

Lloyd Hansen + Yandere + “I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will.” + sir kink.

Ari Levinson + Dad’s best friend + “I dreamt of you last night. Every night.” + daddy kink.

Andy Barber + Professor + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” + abuse of power.

Andy Barber + Dad’s best friend + “I just want to take care of you.” + daddy kink.

Steve Rogers + no AU + “Don’t be a brat.” + manhandling.

Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “Merry fucking Christmas, princess.” + captivity.

Steve Rogers + Mob boss + “I just want to take care of you.” + stockholm syndrome.

Curtis Everett + Boxer + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + dom/sub.

Lloyd Hansen + No AU + “Merry fucking Christmas, princess.” + daddy kink.

Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “That’s no way to speak to your future husband.” + daddy kink.

Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy + Amnesia + “Don’t you love it when I touch you like this?” + stockholm syndrome.

Pete Brenner + Camgirl + “I can’t help it, I love you too much.” + dumbification.

Lloyd Hansen + Mob boss + “I love hearing you beg. You’re much sweeter that way.” + pet play.

Lloyd Hansen + Mob/mafia + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + overstimulation.

Andy Barber + Boyfriend’s dad + “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” + cheating.

Ransom Drysdale + Step-brother + “Don’t you love it when I touch you like this?” + innocence.

Steve Rogers + Yandere + “You know what I hate more than broken promises? Liars.” + kidnapping.***

Pete Brenner + Camboy + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + drugging.

Lloyd Hansen + Maid + “Where do you think you’re going?” + abuse of power.

Johnny Storm + College/University + “I thought you hated me.” + stalking.

Ari Levinson + Stepfather + “Don’t be a brat.” + vaginal sex.

Steve Rogers + Fake Marriage + “What did you just say?” + sex pollen.***

Jake Jensen + Neighbour + “I had to—you gave me no other option.” + obsession.

Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you.” + daddy kink.

Lloyd Hansen + Neighbour + “The least you could do is be grateful.” + humiliation.

Ransom Drysdale + Yandere + “Merry fucking Christmas, princess.” + captivity.

Ari Levinson + Soulmate + “Don’t fight me. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.” + overstimulation.

Steve Rogers + Boyfriend’s dad + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + cheating.

Natasha Romanoff + Camgirl + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + scissoring.

Ransom Drysdale + Step-brother + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + drugging.

Ari Levinson + Dad’s best friend + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + corruption.

Andy Barber + Dad’s best friend + “Can’t you see I’m trying?” + cum-marking.

Ari Levinson + Mob boss + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” + innocence.***

Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy + Neighbour + “The least you could do is be grateful.” + drugging.

Steve Rogers + Mob boss + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + corruption.

Ari Levinson + Camboy + “Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you.” + innocence.

Lloyd Hansen + Boyfriend’s dad + “I think I like you better when you’re gagged and crying on my dick.” + creampie.

Natasha Romanoff + Yandere + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + mommy kink.

Natasha Romanoff + Boyfriend’s mom + “You’re shaking so much, honey… Just wait until I get my tongue on you.” + obsession.

Lloyd Hansen + no AU + “Where do you think you’re going?” + pet play.

Natasha Romanoff + CEO + “Go on. Let’s see how far you’ll make it.” + mommy kink.

Natasha Romanoff + Sugar Mommy + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” + begging.

Lloyd Hansen + Mob boss + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + choking.

Ransom Drysdale + Sugar Daddy + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + abuse of power.

Ari Levinson + Amnesia + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + obsession.

Natasha Romanoff + Dad’s best friend + “You have no idea what you do to a woman like me.” + creampie.

Curtis Everett + Mob + “Don’t be a brat.” + squirting.

Andy Barber + Mob/Mafia + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + stockholm syndrome.

Ransom Drysdale + Soulmate + “That’s no way to talk to your future husband.” + captivity.

Andy Barber + Professor + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + finger-sucking.

Lloyd Hansen + Boss + “Aw, are you gonna cry?” + overstimulation.

[southasiansource]

pyaar dosti hai.

[ID: 5 gifs of Rahul, Tina and Anjali from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. They're sitting in Ms. Briganza's English class, and she's just asked Rahul what love is.

GIF 1: Rahul capping his pen, rolling his tongue along his bottom lip before answering the teacher's question. He says, "pyaar dosti hai." The translation reads, "love is friendship."

GIF 2: Rahul leaning back in his chair, giving a sly glance to Tina behind him. He tilts his pen back to point towards her innocently as he continues talking, "Agar woh meri sab se acchi dost nahi ban sakti." The translation reads, "If she can't become my best friend."

GIF 3: A continuation of the previous gif, where Rahul continues saying, "toh main uss se kabhi pyaar kar hi nahi sakta." The translation reads, "Then I can never fall in love with her."

GIF 4: A shot of Anjali, struck by Rahul's words, seemingly realizing something as she listens to him talk. Rahul's dialogue continues, "Kyun ki dosti bina pyaar hota hi nahi." The translation reads, "Because without friendship, there is no love."

GIF 5: Rahul casting a cursory look around the rest of the classroom, shrugging lightly with his hands before concluding his point, "Simple. Pyaar dosti hai." The translation reads, "Simple. Love is friendship."

/end ID]

[sabh0]

I need to rant with someone about how this fandom thinks Chuuya's stupid, or gullible, and how Dazai uses him all the time without him even realizing, which hurts Chuuya's feelings like...

What the fuck did y'all read, where did that dynamic even comes from?? Why do you want to make Chuuya look pathetic????

They are PARTNERS. If Dazai only considered him a puppet, they would NOT work so well together, nor have the dynamic they do, they balance each other out while understanding each other completely, PLEASE.

Yes, Chuuya follows Dazai's plans most of the time, because they WORK. When Dazai doesn't give him the entire thing, it's because he trusts Chuuya to understand his intentions anyway, because they know each so well, I am going to SCREAM.

SO TRUE!!! EVERY TIME I SEE PPL CALL CHUUYA STUPID OR SMTH I GO BONKERS,, Asagiri himself said that Chuuya is Dazai level genius,,

And the fact he goes along with Dazai's plans is literally the fact he trusts him?? He literally said it out loud a few times. No idea where ppl r getting that whole thing about him being some pathetic little guy who can't think for himself,, if he didn't want to do something then he wouldn't and that's it 😭😭

The same goes for ppl who make Dazai look like he can't handle himself in a fight or smth,, ghey literally push the dynamic of 'brains and brawn' onto skk like aughh!! Obviously Chuuya is a much better fighter, but Dazai is not a twig that won't be able to lift a finger in a fight??? He does perfectly fine against Atsushi's tiger, running and jumping around,,, or in the Dazai's Entrance Exam novel where he was fighting that big buff guy - obviously he's not a martial artist so it would be quite hard to fight someone twice as big as you, but he still managed to hit him a few times with some tricks,,, also he's pretty athletic considering the way he escaped in the Dragon's Head Conflict (uhh sab u just started yapping sbout a completely different topic))

[mpixx]

cattonquick meet ugly: illegal foxhunter x animal rights activist

A/N: So, apparently, some rich people in the UK still do illegal foxhunting - and they clash with hunt saboteurs who try to prevent hunting through direct action. My "knowledge" of this comes from having chatted to @leiflitter about it and having seen like two docs on youtube

„Sabs!!! Disperse!“

„Fuuuck,“ Felix groans. He had hoped to get through the day by trailing along listlessly and letting the rest of the riding party get into it while he nursed his hangover. Which was hard enough to do on horseback, mind you.

But now, there's a general sense of commotion, and when he sees three people dressed in black appear on the clearing, he instinctively steers Bubblegum Prince into the woods.

He wonders where he put his phone, because now he is gonna have to navigate back by himself, when suddenly, a guy appears in front of him.

Dressed in all black, face covered, feet planted firmly in the middle of the trail, blocking his way.

"Dismount!" he yells, some kind of stick or baton in his hand, as Felix desperately pulls on the reigns to keep Bubblegum Prince from trampling the guy.

"Are you insane?" Felix yells back.

"Dismount the horse!" the guy yells, causing Bubblegum Prince to rear. Felix clamps his thighs down and holds on for dear life.

He gets seriously jostled as Bubblegum Prince lands on his feet again, but he's still up there. "Fuck," he breathes. 

He takes the moment to get himself down before he can fall. He stumbles as his feet hit the ground, and Bubblegum Prince immediately takes off into the woods.

Which leaves him with his next problem. "Real animal lover you are," he says. "Shut up," the guy spits. He hasn't moved but he seems a little rattled, too.

Fucking lunatic, jumping in front of a running horse with a telescope stick. Which he is still gripping like he is ready to fight.

"Do you have a death wish?" Felix demands.

"If I have one, so do you. Capitalism is a death cult." Felix blinks. What?

The guy lowers his weapon. “Capitalist production is doomed because it progressively destroys the original sources of its wealth – nature and the worker.”

"The soil," Felix corrects before he can help himself.

"What?" The guy seems taken aback. His blue eyes narrow between his cap and the scarf that's covering his mouth and nose.

"The soil," Felix repeats. "Nature is such a 70s holistic hippie way of looking at it. Anachronistic, really."

He steps closer. "Marx thought in terms of material. Grit, oil, muscle, sweat, steel mill fires. The raw material and the vulgar means of production." He pauses. "Soil."

The guy is staring at him.

"You of all people should know..." He takes a breath before the pièce de resistance. "Oliver."

***

"I don't know what you're talking about", Oliver lies.

But Felix's eyes glint. "Oh, yes. We're in the same class. Introduction to Economic Theory."

This is highly inconvenient. Of course they're in the same class. Oliver knows this because this is Felix Catton. Who is everything Oliver is opposed to - generationally wealthy, heritage student, doesn't give a shit about class. And apparently, goes foxhunting, too.

Problem is that even though he despises Felix Catton and everything he stands for, Oliver has had a demented, nasty, shameful crush on him since they started at Oxford this autumn.

And what's worse, he is proving Oliver wrong because he apparently did the reading.

"No, we're not," he attempts.

"Professor Ware, I have another question. Actually it's more of a statement..." Felix imitates. It's a truly horrid impersonation.

"You're like, prolonging the class everytime," Felix continues. "All my friends hate you."

"Must be doing something right, then" Oliver mutters.

"So it is you," Felix says, victorious.

"Ok, so what? What's much more interesting is THE Felix Catton on an illegal foxhunt..." Oliver tsks. He takes one step towards Felix.

"You're trespassing," Felix says haughtily. "And you're in violation of the Hunting Act of 2004."

Before they can think of a way to continue, there's a sound a few meters away. Someone on a horse, breaching the area.

Felix grabs Oliver and pulls him behind a tree.

"What are you..." -"Shhh."

Felix is clearly hiding from his own party. They're pretty close together.

"You think being able to quote some "Capital" absolves you of the exploitative nature of your class position?" Oliver hisses, as Felix's fingers dig into his biceps.

Felix looks at him. Up close, his eyes are so pretty.

"You were misquoting," he says.

"And you correcting me is just you trying to assert your class position by trying to demonstrate that your kind is better educated and that I'm stupid. When the truth is that it is only because of that position, not because of intellectual merit, that you even go to Oxford."

Felix smiles. "Can't imagine how embarrassing it must be for a nerd like you to misquote the thinker you like to wank off to."

***

This is fun. Well. Fun-er than whatever he was doing before. He watches Oliver pull down the cloth from over his nose and mouth.

"So...is it true what they say about you?" Oliver says.

"What?" Felix asks, even though he has an inkling what he is referring to.

Oliver sticks his tongue into his cheek while moving his hand suggestively. Miming a blowjob. Referring to a widespread rumor that Felix sucked off one of his teachers to get a better grade.

Oliver doesn't look all that high and mighty though. He looks...intrigued.

"Why?" Felix says, smiling. He leans a little closer to Oliver. "What's it to you?"

***

Felix smells like the woods, but not the real woods. A fantasy version. Perfume ad version.

He smells like the fake woods and his eyes are so pretty and he is close. Real close, and tilting his head.

Oliver's eyes flutter shut. He can hear Felix breathing, he can feel it.

And...nothing.

Nothing, and then: Laughter. Oliver's eyes fly open.

Felix is still close, too close. "Fucking loser," he whispers, then withdraws his face.

Oliver's blood turns cold.

"This is not only despicable, but illegal, by the way," he says.

"Cool. But you're not gonna tell on me, are you?" Felix puts a hand on his own heart. "I would hate for your saboteur buddies to know how much you'd like to...You know." His hand on Oliver's cheek. "Eat the rich."

[hydrasquadd]

Hearts for a New Hope collection

Hearts for a New Hope is a little project illustrating and writing about the lives of a group of creatures called feywing griphs. Read along to follow their journey.

Feywing griph species information

Feywing group information

Red text means violence/mentioned violence

1. Sugar meets Savannah | 2. Aither and Alpine | 3. Sabbia | 4. Growing love | 5. Sab and Savannah | 6. Sorrel, Summer, and Storm | 7. Hearts for a New Hope | 8. Playtime and new egg | 9. Cosmo and new feathers, plants, and accessories | 10. Ilta, Layla, Lavender, and Lunar | 11. Cubs together | 12. Jewelry and hunters | 13. Grandparent visits | 14. Sound of lightning | 15. Young Defenders | 16. Angel and Autumn | 17. Worried mother and displeased Angel | 18. Lures and nesters | 19. Blossoming loves |

This post will be updated with the latest additions

Past group images below

[meet-me-backstage]

🜸

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night - you’re considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout’s local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.

However, you don’t warm to him so easily - in fact, you don’t warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn’t hesitate to make it known and leads to a cold rejection from you.

Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.

You hate each other… but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie’s bandmates with the intention of bring you two together and harmony between your bands.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, mention of blood, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍 and some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🎸 6.4K words

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🎸 bad language, mention of blood, allusion to and brief mention of smut, mention of drugs.

𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠，𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡， 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠.

𝐼’𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 － 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦！

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 • 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 • 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

The woods, ever since you’d made a tantrum-filled exit from The Hideout on Tuesday, had become your very own personal haven and you hadn’t been in contact with anybody. You remembered the comfort that such a place could bring, perhaps it was the familiarity of it. Just the touch of bark pressed against your back, dry soil and leaves between your fingers took you back to your school years.

All of the skipped periods, the sneaking out of school - it started at the beginning of 7th grade when Mrs Grabowski, your English teacher, had set you and the rest of your class homework to present the next week as an ice breaker exercise. She wanted a diorama of your perfect day, along with a paragraph of creative writing to go with it.

Your naive and innocent eleven year old self thought that a scene of yourself holding your baby black rabbit, Ozzy (who had little headphones over his ears), at a Black Sabbath concert wouldn’t make the entire class laugh at you.

Everyone stared, laughed, talked about you for months because you didn’t listen to the likes of Dolly Parton or ABBA. It made your heart grow cold.

You chose to be alone. You shut everyone out, built a barricade around yourself that nobody could ever break down. What else could you do? From the moment that you set foot on school grounds, you were the laughing stock. So when you caught a boy that looked to be in the grade below, with his big brown eyes, a buzzcut, clothes that were so baggy on his small frame, staring at you? Claiming to be a fan of Black Sabbath too? How could you believe that he was telling you the truth? You immediately thought that he was making fun of you - because you were the freak, because he was far from the first person to pretend that he was into metal music only to then let you down with a sarcastic tone and a hurtful comment… though in that particular encounter with that boy, you didn’t stick around for the latter.

He blended in with all the other grade A assholes at school who made you feel like you were weird because you didn’t conform to the expectations of the popular crowd.

After that? Well, you realised that you were not the one to blame. If no one else in that darn school thinks that going to a metal concert is not their idea of a perfect day then they can suck it… I’d rather be alone, you remember thinking. You didn’t take any bullshit from anybody, you built a barricade around yourself.

You didn’t realise that it was still there - the barricade. You thought it had long fallen down since the moment you found the girls in Stake For My Valentine, Keith and Rodrick, your adoring fans. Right now, sat against the tree, you realised that it hadn’t gone at all because, until now, you’d forgotten all of those bad encounters at school - that boy with a buzzcut.

That barricade came crashing down the moment that you saw Eddie on that stage on Tuesday and you felt the exact same annoying, prickly little tingle in your stomach. Your nerves were shot, you had to remove yourself from both situations.

You felt vulnerable again and you hated it.

You brought your hands up to your face and nuzzled your nose into your palms with a frustrated sigh.

“Pull yourself together, Vamp,” you mutter to yourself, hitting your forehead lightly with your palm.

So many thoughts whirl around your mind, overwhelming you to the point where your heart was racing.

Why am I letting Eddie Munson get to me?

Why the fuck am I letting him win by hiding out here?

The girls, Keith, Rodrick? They all probably think I’ve been eaten alive by bears or - trapped in another dimension by now.

You shake your head and scramble back up and onto your feet at that thought. It was the worry of the possibility that Stake For My Valentine could be completely kicked off of the rota of gigs at the Hideout because of your absence… and also the growing chance of being eaten by bears the longer you spend in the woods that had you speed-walking in the direction of the bar.

Your arms aggressively swing at your sides, your grip on your songwriting notepad tightens in your hand and you bite your tongue as an attempt to distract you from your rapidly pumping heart and your spinning mind.

Seeing the Hideout before you made you bite your tongue even harder, you were sure that it was starting to draw blood, but you ignored it as you strode towards and into the place.

It is quiet, not unusual for an afternoon, but the bar stool furthest from the stage even lacked a certain local, grotesque Dave, who makes a point of eye-fucking you most nights even though he is old enough to be your grandad, yet you amuse him with flirtatious remarks just so he’ll buy you a drink.

You pout your lips for a brief moment, hoping for just a small taste of a distraction… Rodrick wasn’t even manning the bar as he usually would on a Friday.

You almost missed his smug face. Almost. But then you remembered how he took your Halloween gig out of your hands, so easily placing it into Eddie’s right in front of you… it was like a slap to the face. The worst part was that you’d didn’t even know why he’d done something as cruel as taking your favorite gig night away from you like that in the first place - the look on his face, the mischievous glint in his eyes… it was like he wanted to make you angry that night.

Muffled laughter suddenly erupted, coming from behind the door newly labelled ‘S.F.M.V + C.C’ and distracted you from your thoughts.

Your eyes pierced harshly at the door itself as the laughter continued.

Slowly, you tread your way in the direction of the laughter that grew as even more people seemed to laugh. You carefully grab the door handle, not wanting to make it creak before you even got a glimpse of the scene before you.

All in the matter of a second, you’d turned the handle and kicked the door open.

For a mere moment you were impressed with your ‘hunting’ technique, you were sure you’d acted as fast as a cheetah who’d found it’s dinner.

There they all were, Elektra, Cherie, Alyssa, Rodrick and the Corroded Nobodies.

You cross your arms, watching as each face falls from joy to disbelief.

Alyssa was sat in Gareth’s lap, her arms draped around his neck while he caressed her side with his fingertips. Though their embrace came to a halt when Alyssa saw you, she climbed off of him, stumbling in her step and falling to the floor at his legs.

“Vamp?” Elektra calls, her brown eyes squint, like she was trying to figure out if you were a figment of her imagination. You shift your attention from Alyssa to Elektra, returning her eye contact, “what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” You tilt your head and accusingly point at each of the four boys sat between the Stake For My Valentine girls, “what are they-,” you glare into the eyes of Eddie Munson, who glares back, “doing here?!”

Everyone in the damn room starts to scratch their necks, avoiding eye contact with you, making you feel all the more frustrated.

You lift your arms up before dropping them back down to your sides, “I didn’t know there was a flea infestation, did I miss the fuckin’ memo?” your voice oozed with sarcasm and you ended with a laugh so sharp it could cut like a knife slicing through the fun that the two bands were having together before you crashed the party.

“Either that or your head is so far up your ass that you couldn’t hear Rodrick tell you that this room is ours now too?” Eddie blurts, his glare even more intense than it was before.

You went blank, finding yourself staring at the way his lips moved with his riled up breathing. You snap yourself out of your stare, shaking your head and giggling, “Good one, Munson - so good I think I’ll add it to my lyric book.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, standing himself up, “Hang on a second, they’re my words - maybe I want to add them to my lyric book.”

You shrug your shoulders with the facade of an innocent smile, “Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

“C’mon, that’s not fair!” He whines, collapsing back into the couch behind him.

Even with the anger in his eyes, they were still as wide as a lost puppy’s. You pout your lips and tilt your head at him, “Awh but it is-,” you walk towards him and bend over so that your face is level with his. Your faces are undeniably close, your noses almost touched and you could feel his breath falter at the lack of a gap between the two of you, “it is too fair,” you boop his nose with the tip of your index finger with a smirk on your lips.

Eddie blinks up at you and you continue to fixate your eyes on him. The two of you too stubborn to look away from each other because if you did you’d lose… and you never lose.

You hear someone clear their throat, making both you and Eddie turn your heads in sync in the direction of your band mates and Rodrick, who were all blinking at the two of you.

“Should we leave-,” Elektra, who had been the one to break the silence with a cough, gestures between her and everyone else on the couch, “before the two of you start making out or are you gonna quit eye-fucking and tell us where you’ve been the last few days?”

You grimace, quickly taking a step away from Eddie, “First of all - ew? As if I’d even think about making out with that loser,” you point at him while directing your glare at Elektra now.

Eddie huffs a laugh, interrupting your staring competition with Elektra, “Exactly, she’s like - the biggest bitch in the universe. Why would I wanna kiss her?”

You roll your eyes, “Finally, we agree on something - maybe we can be civil after all!”

The boys, minus Eddie, from Corroded Coffin all sighed in relief and their faces lit up.

“Really?! So we can be friends?!” Gareth asks excitedly while glancing down at Alyssa, but receives a gentle slap on the top of the head from Eddie.

An evil, but convincing smile graced your lips, “Yeaahhh! I was thinking now that we’re friends we can all get high and braid each other’s hair while we confess our deepest darkest secrets,” you enthuse in a high pitched voice, all while watching the Corroded Coffin boy’s excited faces slowly fall.

Gareth nods slowly, “You were being sarcastic,” he mumbles under his breath.

“She was being sarcastic,” Eddie repeats in an ‘I told you so’ tone.

“I knew that.”

You grin toothily before resuming your response to Elektra’s question, “Now that we’ve got that clear - I was in the woods writing new material for us to practice,” you lift the arm that’s still grasping your lyric book and you wave it before throwing it for her to catch, “Have a look through ‘em, see what you think.”

She leans back from the momentum of the notebook hitting her chest, clutching it to her heart with both hands. She raises one brow at you, leaning forward again, “Hang on a second, you were - writing… in the woods?”

“That’s what I said,” you nod with a shrug.

“And you didn’t think to call any of us?”

“I dunno - I guess I got lost in the sound of silence, the beauty of my surroundings and I had to write so... I forgot, I’m sorry,” you explain, now looking down at the floor nervously.

“We thought you’d been abducted by aliens!” Alissa blurts, waving her hands around her face as she mimics the sounds of a spaceship, making Gareth chuckle.

You send a fleeting glare Gareth’s way, making him hiccup and Alyssa blush.

“No, but I probably would’ve been better off if I had been abducted by aliens,” you raise your brows, continuing to stare between Alissa and Gareth, who seem to understand that you were talking about them, and they frown in response.

“These are good, Vamp,” Rodrick announces. Your eyes land on the man that had been silently enjoying your displeasure towards the situation. You notice that your notebook had found its way into his hands and he was casually flicking through the pages, “He’s just a loser with a guitar, thinks he’ll go far but he’ll be endlessly chasin’ cars,” Rodrick places his index finger on his chin and cheekily grins up at you, “I wonder who that’s about?”

You glance at Eddie, unconsciously answering Rodrick’s question.

You didn’t even get to soak up Eddie’s reaction before Rodrick continues to read from your notebook, “And when you think of me, I hope it kills your desire for metal-.” You snatch the notebook from his hands. “Hey - I was reading that!”

“I need to talk to you. Now,” you state, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb.

Rodrick holds his hands up in surrender, “Okay okay - keep your head on.”

He follows you as you stomp your way back through the door and into the bar area, which was still empty.

“What’s wrong, V?” He asks, now entering behind the bar, standing opposite you as you lean onto the bar from the other side.

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Roddie. Do you think you’re fuckin’ funny?”

“Woah - I’m smelling a lot of hostility right now,” Rodrick too, leans onto the counter, trying to close the gap between the two of you only for you to step away from the bar.

“You had no right to read out my lyrics like that,” you poke at your chest with your index finger while spitting out each word at him.

“Soon enough you’ll be singing them on stage right? So what’s the difference?” He furrows his brows at you.

You shake your head in disbelief, “they are drafts and they were meant for mine and the band’s eyes only - for now,” you slam your hands down on the table and lean closer to him on your own terms. Your noses almost touch, making him smirk and lean even more forward in an attempt to kiss you. “Why the fuck did you take the Halloween gig away from me and hand it to them on a goddamn silver platter?” Rodrick pauses, his lips a few centimetres away from yours, “Do you get off on pissing me off? Is that it?”

“Maybe,” Rodrick chuckles mischievously before closing the small distance between you and pecking you on the lips.

You slide your hand along the bar, colliding your palm with his chest and pushing him away, cutting the kiss short, “Am I fuckin’ laughing?” You ask with a harsh stare before gesturing between yourself and the backstage door, “we’ve spent months rehearsing for that gig and you think it’s fuckin’ funny to jeopardise our plans for some newbies you picked up from the crowd at my band’s gig?”

Rodrick sighs loudly, his entire demeanour deflating, “Look, I wanted to get a rise out of you - but not for a joke or some prank like you think.”

You squint your eyes, “I’m not following.”

“Attention - I did it for attention, alright? God knows this place needs it,” Rodrick admits, looking down at the wilting wood of the bar top.

“I still don’t follow.”

Rodrick nods, still refusing to look you in the eye, “People are half water half gossip junkies, right?”

You roll your eyes, “Just spit it out, Rodrick!”

Rodrick leans closer to you again, “They crave drama - the moment they witness the smallest hint of a competition they come in swarms. This - battle - between Stake For My Valentine and Corroded Coffin - is exactly what this bar needs-.”

Your face falls even more, if that’s even possible, “No, Stake For My Valentine is what it needs, the crowd loves us and we keep ‘em coming back, don’t we?”

“You’re - half - right, they do love you and you do keep ‘em coming, but that’s not enough,” Rodrick admits with a side frown, watching as you pull away from him again, “we need more to keep this bar going in the long run.”

“But K said-.”

“That you brought life back into the bar? Yeah, my dad is right, you did - past tense.”

You bite your lips together while he speaks, fighting the urge to scream at him. Instead, you take a deep breath and take a moment to regain your composure, “So what do you suggest we do to reignite the spark oh wise one?”

Rodrick places both his elbows on the bar and places his hands down flat against it before starting a drumroll. The tempo slowly rises in pace, but you are already writhing with impatience, so you roll your eyes and glare at his hands as he speedily and loudly taps on the wooden surface until suddenly coming to a halt, “a battle of the bands!”

You look at him as if to say ‘really?’, and shake your head, “That sounds a whole lot like high school all over again, I did not drop out for one of your shitty schemes-.”

“Hear me out, V-,” his eyes widen, drawing you in. You have your mouth bitten shut by your teeth again and you hum with a hesitant nod, “All you have to do between tonight and Halloween is play swapsies of the stage with Corroded Coffin and rile Eddie up, act like you hate him, his band, his music - enough to make people start talking-.”

“But I do hate him, his band and his music. I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual too - about me anyway,” you briefly recall how starstruck he’d acted when he first saw you perform, poor baby, you think to yourself with an internal smirk.

“So your job is pretty easy, don’t ya think?” Tempting. You raise your brows, intrigue crystal clear on your features, yet you stay silent, “C’mon Vamp - face it, you want the competition, you thrive on it!”

You lean closer with your brows still raised, your lips centimetres away from his, “I can’t imagine your dad being on board with your little scheme-.”

“Nooo - which is why he won’t know about it-.”

“Rodrick, I hate to break it to you but he works here every damn day - he will know.”

His lips tug up at one side of his mouth, “Oh yeah? You see him right now? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips as you tilt your head slightly to your right, “What are you not telling me?”

“You’re so so so behind, V - he’s away until next month and has left me in charge of the place… and if everything goes according to plan, by the time he comes back the Hideout will be thriving with new and local faces, he’ll have the bar he’s always dreamed of and he won’t be on my back anymore,” his voice gradually becomes loud with excitement and the perfect eyeliner around his widened eyes becomes more prominent.

“There it is!” You cackle loudly and his face drops, “I knew there had to be something in it for you.”

Rodrick shakes his head before unexpectedly taking your hands in his and squeezing your fingers while staring into your eyes, “There’s something in it for the both of us.”

You look down at your hands being clasped by his before glancing up at him with your brows furrowed. “What’s in it for me then, hm?” you slur flirtatiously as you lean your body more over the bar, your chest pressing against the top of his hands.

“I was er - left with some very strict rules that I am willing to break just for you,” Rodrick mumbles softly with a smug grin, his lips brushing against yours, “the Halloween gig is already yours, it will always be yours-.”

“But you said-.”

“I know what I said,” Rodrick sighs with a nod, “I said it because it was what my dad wanted, not me, he thought you needed a break.”

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

“Right?” He sighs, letting out a relieved, yet nervous chuckle.

You send him a playful glare that sends him into a frenzy of confusion, “You’re an asshole too, y’know?” Rodrick squints his eyes at you while in deep thought. “I saw the look on your face when you told Eddie he had the gig - you wanted to piss me off you piece of crap,” you pull away from his touch and reach for his shirt, balling it into your fist.

“Woah woah woah,” he grunts as you pull him towards you, “I think you’re hot when you’re all worked up, lock me up if that’s a crime - jeez.”

“Fuck you, Rodrick. It was - too far,” your voice falters for a moment and your grip on his shirt loosens.

“I know. I’m sorry, V,” he admits lowly, breaking eye contact with you before bringing one of his hands up to gently place on your cheek, “It’s rightfully yours, the gig, that’s why I’m giving it back to you.”

You decide to lean into his touch, tilting your head into his palm as he utters the final few words. “So you can be reasonable sometimes,” you mumble softly, turning your face to press your lips against his palm, “But there’s no need to do that for me, Roddie.”

Rodrick’s brows furrow as he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, “What do you mean?”

“I want the competition to be real, let the crowd decide who they want to see on Halloween,” you state boldly, holding eye contact with him without blinking, “You know I don’t do cheating or shortcuts but-,” you press another seductive kiss to his palm, making him gulp, “your heart is in the right place - soooo-,” you continue to press kisses while looking into his dark, blown out eyes, “I was thinking… I could stay the night.”

“Here?” He blinks.

You hum in agreement.

“With me?” He blinks again.

You subconsciously roll your eyes, pressing one last kiss to his hand before you let out a muffled giggle against his skin, “Yes, with you - who else, dummy?” You press your lips against his slightly chapped ones before he can answer your question, he makes a muffled noise before melting at the sensation of your lips touching his completely.

He exhales into the kiss, making you smirk against his lips. You take the opportunity to gain more control by pushing yourself more against him, making yourself taller over the bar and just as you nudge your tongue between his lips you hear a cough in the direction of the ‘backstage’ door.

You and Rodrick’s eyes snap open and the sight of his features so close to your face makes your heart pump faster. In a whim of pure fright, you jump away and blink frantically at the source of the cough you’d heard.

Munson. “You,” your voice could not have sounded more irritated if you tried.

Eddie’s eyes were wide and fixated on you, his lips were quivering, “I - er - I - um-.”

Your lips tug themselves into a smirk when you realise that the scene of you and Rodrick making out on the bar had left him utterly flustered and speechless. It was as if he’d never seen something of that nature before - the locking of lips and the collision of bodies seemed to be a place of uncharted water that he had not yet explored… and probably won’t ever - because how could anyone ever possibly want Eddie Munson in the same room as them, let alone their bed? Not with that face, that hair, that stare, that voice, those fingers, those tattoos - and especially not with those stupid jokes.

“Sorry - I was just - er - leaving - yeah - leaving,” Eddie nods insistently, it was almost as if he had to convince himself too.

“Awh,” you pout, “don’t leave on our account, we’re taking this-,” you step towards Rodrick, giving him a wink before glancing Eddie’s way with a flirtatious smile, “upstairs.”

“Wha-,” Rodrick’s eyes are wide now.

The sound of your worn black boots stomping on the floor silence Rodrick. You internally rub your hands together because you have to walk past Eddie in order to get to the door behind the bar that leads to the apartment upstairs that Rodrick and Keith reside in. Eddie’s lips were parted and his eye contact with you faltered, those brown orbs flickered shyly to your fishnet wrapped legs.

You fought the urge to cackle evilly because you knew exactly what you were doing to the poor guy, yet you still leant as possibly close as you could to his ear, “We’ll be back in an hour,” you whisper before skipping away, behind the bar and pulling Rodrick through the door leading to his home, you give Eddie a playful wave while doing so.

Just fifteen minutes later, Rodrick collapsed onto the mattress beside you with a fucked-out, blissful smile on his face and trails of sweat running from his hairline down his temple.

And you? You felt nothing. You didn’t even finish.

While you blankly stared up at the ceiling with the duvet draped over your waist, you wondered what exactly drove you to drag Rodrick upstairs in the first place if you didn’t really want to fuck Rodrick again.

Perhaps it was the smell of the bar that drove you up there, or a spur of the moment rush of adrenaline that disappeared the moment you left Eddie stood at the bar alone… you shook your head, trying to stop the ongoing battle between each of your thoughts that were starting to make you sweat with fear - not pleasure or exhaustion like you’d hoped.

While Rodrick moved his hips back and forth between your legs, you were as still as a plank of wood… bored. You remembered your first time with him being a little more exciting, but maybe that was because it was entirely new for you. Now you could predict every move he made until the very moment he spilled himself inside the rubber and laid next to you.

You could feel the mattress dip next to you as he manoeuvred himself to be closer, he whispers in your ear, “You were amazing.”

There they are, the same three words he uttered in an exhausted whisper when you first fucked.

You bottled up the urge to groan, or laugh, or scream because you did nothing to deserve those words - all you did was put on your greatest acting voice and scrunch your face up in order to make him think that you’d reached your own high, the rest was all him because he insisted on taking control, desperately thrusting himself in and out of you for five minutes without any foreplay because he couldn’t last.

Nothing. The word repeats in your head like an echo, but instead it gets louder and louder until you abruptly sit yourself up, making Rodrick’s arm fall onto the duvet instead of on your stomach.

“You a little - overcome?” You hear Rodrick’s voice and a punch-worthy giggle over your shoulder.

“Totally,” you sigh, light heartedly chuckling afterwards.

Rodrick, unconvinced, sits himself up too and turns his abdomen your way, “What’s up? Was I so good that you had to flinch away from me?”

“Rodrick,” his name comes out of your mouth as a sigh and you bring a hand up to your forehead, trying to hide the doubt that is written all over your face. Do I really want Rodrick? You bring your other hand to cover your face. Why am I even asking myself that? Your hands fall from your face and land on your lap with a thud, “Do you feel - weird?”

“About what?” Rodrick leans more forward so that his face is in sight.

“This - us,” you motion between yours and Rodrick’s bodies with a trembling hand.

His eyes squint at you, trying to read you. You felt vulnerable again, being scrutinised under his gaze and you suddenly regretted even starting the conversation, “Er - a little?” Your heart, to your surprise, begins to race, “Only because - well - you know how my dad reacted before, but that just makes - this - sneaking around-,” a smile starts to form on his face, “more exciting, right?”

Your eyes slowly trail to meet his, you nod in time with your heartbeat, rapidly, “R-right,” you exhale deeply, “yeah, it’s so fun.”

“Exactly,” Rodrick’s smile widens before kissing your cheekbone.

You force a smile, sheepishly catching his eyes, “I’m gonna go back downstairs.” The bed creaked as you pushed yourself off and back onto your feet, stepping into your boots. Your legs shook and you stumbled on your feet for a moment because Rodrick hadn’t exactly gone easy on you, you could already feel a bruise forming on your inner thigh, “gotta practice for tonight.”

“Sure,” Rodrick mumbles. You can feel his gaze burning into your naked back, making you smirk at the rocket patterned wallpaper of his bedroom.

You bend over, grabbing the shirt you’d thrown on the floor, then pull up the fishnet tights and skirt you were wearing until Rodrick hastily pulled them down to your ankles and pushed you onto the bed.

“See you later, perv,” you mutter, glancing over your shoulder at Rodrick, who was shamelessly staring - just as you predicted.

As you walk out of the room, coming face to face with the wall and the top of the narrow staircase leading back down to the bar, you hear Rodrick call out, “You love it!” You laugh as you run down the stairs, the weight of your boots pulling you down so fast that you have to press your forearms against the walls either side of you for guidance.

Your fingertips brush against the stone of the wall where the wallpaper had ripped away just as you reach the door behind the bar. There are two windows in the door, both with red and green stained glass with a diamond pattern.

Through one of windows you could see the silhouettes of people walking towards the exit, but you couldn’t quite make out who exactly they belonged to.

Intrigued, you reach for the door handle and slowly pull the door open so that it’s ajar.

When you had half your face peeking behind the door, you noticed that it was Travis, Gareth and Jeff leaving the Hideout.

“Do you really think so?” Gareth asks Jeff with hope in his eyes.

“Duh! Anyone with eyes can tell, her jaw almost dropped to the floor at your drum solo last night,” Jeff states enthusiastically, nudging his friend’s shoulder.

Gareth chuckles while shaking his head, “I dunno, dude-.”

“C’mon, who else laughs as hard as she does when you do that lame drumstick magic trick, or agrees to reenact Garfield scenes with you?” Jeff asks and you bite your lips together to stop yourself from hysterically laughing from behind the door.

“Maybe she’s just being nice?” Gareth looks down at the floor.

“Or maybe you’re letting her friend get in your head?”

Gareth shakes his head in complete denial, “What? Vamp? Never.”

Jeff raises his brows, tilting his head, making no effort to hide his skepticism, “So you’ll ask her on a date?”

“When Eddie and Vamp get their act together - that’s when I’ll ask her on a date,” Gareth finally looks up at Jeff.

“So it is about Va-.”

You bit your lips together even harder. Now you knew that you didn’t have to worry about Gareth and Alyssa getting together because Eddie and I will never see eye to eye. In the fraction of a second, just to try and get a closer look, you opened the door a little more, only for it to creak loudly. Damn it! You fling the door open casually, gaining the attention of Travis, Jeff and Gareth, but they are quick to turn on the heel and scuttle out of the Hideout.

“Bye kiddos!” You wave with a toothy smile on your face, “See you tonight if it’s not past your bedtime!” You stare at the door as it swings closed with a bang.

Where’s Eddie? You wonder if he’d left because of you and Rodrick - you smile even wider. That’s the best thing to happen to me all week, all of them leaving the Hideout - maybe they’ve gone for good-

“An hour?” A familiar, boyish, but deep voice sounds behind you along with footsteps that drew closer and closer.

You knew who it was from a mile off, the boy who you could never catch a break from. His presence behind you made your heart quicken, your stomach tingle and your smile to drop. You didn’t want to turn around - I’m getting so sick of his stupid face - but you knew you had to, otherwise he’d have the upper hand, so you fought those feelings you hated and turned to face him by your hips.

A small smile was evident on his plump pink lips, making his dimples visible. Your fierce eyes took in his frame, the white vest he was wearing that was deteriorating with holes and small off-white stains all over it - they showed his tattoos perfectly, a spider and a demonic-looking ghoul on his chest, bats, a puppet-master and a dragon on his right arm, your eyes trailed and admired each of them until a nervous cough interrupted thejourney. “W-what?” Your eyes slowly make their way back up to meet his brown ones, but not before you appreciate the way his collarbones flawlessly frame the ink on his chest… Focus, Vamp.

Eddie’s bottom lip was parted away from his top one, watching your every move, making you silently scold yourself for letting your eyes so obviously wander over him. “You said that you’d be back in an hour - twenty minutes ago,” his words come out in a playful tone, he resumes his steps towards you until he’s stood directly in front of you and you’re the one looking up at him like a lost puppy.

Your breath hitches, “s-so what?” I didn’t know hearts could beat this fast?

He shakes his head, his hair flowing with his movements and a curl falls over his eye, “It’s just funny,” he huffs a short laugh, placing one of his hands over his face, the glimmer of his chunky silver rings hypnotise you.

You scoff, “What is?” You ask as you scrunch your nose and glare up at him.

He stays silent, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while mirroring the glare that you’d given him, “the game you’re playing.”

“Oh yeah? What game is it that you think I’m playing then, huh?”

Eddie breaks eye contact with you now, instead he explores every other feature on your face, “You know you’re - really - fuckin’ talented and you use it for - bad, like Iggwilv, who I conquered with a roll of twenty last week, by the way,” he rambles passionately, waving his hands around until he realises that you’re looking at him blankly, but most importantly, he’s wavering off of the argument he was trying to make. He exhales slowly and looks down at his sneakers, “Ever since that day at the lockers when you did that thing you always do - roll your eyes and stomp away in those boots. At first I thought it was the buzzcut - even I hated that thing,” he chuckles and shakes his head, “It didn’t matter if you hated me or not, or that you ignored me after that… I thought about you all the time, even when you left Hawkins High,” He fleetingly looks up to meet your eyes with his big ones, but his features harden when he sees that you’re still showing no expression on your face. Eddie sniffles, shrugging his shoulders, “Seeing you again, I hoped that we could finally be friends. I really don’t know what I did to make you mad, but- I’m here for the music, and there’s nothing you and your stupid loud boots can say or do to stop Corroded Coffin from playing here, m’kay?” His chest is heaving and his shoulders visibly relax, it’s as if he’d been bottling up those words for more than just twenty minutes, but for many years.

You blink up at him with your lips parted. Your chest heaved too and you watched him as he began to pull away because during his speech he’d unconsciously gotten closer, making you feel hotter in temperature.

You realised just how cold the room actually was when he walked away, following the footsteps that his band-mates had made just minutes ago, but what felt like hours to you.

Say something! I can’t let him have the last word! Your mouth stays silent, agape through the familiar swing and shut sound of the door and it’s too late, Eddie is gone.

His words played on your mind from the very moment he hammered them into your head. They repeated themselves as you rehearsed your new lyrics, as you sang in front the familiar crowd you attracted. It had been days since your last gig so you threw your entire self into it. You played until your fingers bled from running them along the guitar strings so harshly and you spat out your new lyrics about Eddie passionately while searching for him in the crowd… but he was nowhere to be seen.

Your eyes frantically examined each face and searched the booth that he usually sat in with his band, but Rodrick sat there alone tonight.

A frown forced its way onto your lips and you look back down at your beloved Pink Special, belting a guitar solo, shaking your head and scrunching your eyes shut… but it didn’t give you the satisfaction that it usually would. You had unfinished business with Eddie and you couldn’t believe that you had let him just walk away like that.

You played your last note on the guitar, dropping to your knees and throwing your head back.

Cheers could be heard, but Eddie’s words continued to echo all around your mind and they were stronger than the noise coming from your fans.

Screw it! Maybe I do need him- the competition.

⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ’𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺

@big-ope-vibes @majesticjellyfishzombie @b-ritney @joyfulcandyrunaway @sidthedollface2 @sillypurplemurple @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie @bookobsessedfreak @lefdepard @aol19 @hllfrclb @weirdkidfromtheupsidedown @lexi--a

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts

🜸

[kingsofneon]

Warnings for Sabo/Ace, frottage, borderline somno? And this being short af lol

Was reading a fic the other day and now I'm thinking about ace, after finding out Sabo is alive, wanting to visit him a LOT. Sabo have him a vivre, for emergencies, but Ace just uses it to sneak into the Revo base. This is dangerous for a lot of reasons+

(he's not that great at sneaking! The WBP have absolutely followed him before, and he just didn't Notice bc he Knew Them, but it set off Revo base alarm bells and was a terrible time for everyone), but he's gotten better bc he wants to see Sabo and Sabo never has time to visit

Sabo is asleep a lot of the time when ace comes in bc ace tries to time his arrival at dawn or dusk so striker isn't as easy to pick up against the sun, and Sabo's sleep schedule is GARBAGE so ace always gleefully lets himself in and spoons next to Sab for cuddles

This absolutely leads to Ace shifting his fingers under the (TWO LAYERS???) pajama shirts that Sabo is wearing, feeling his skin for new scars or injuries but also for the knowledge that Sabo is human and real and warm and t h e r e

And also bc Sabo is pretty and does his own prodding exploration when they're awake, he's just subtle about it, but ace wants to return the favour and Sabo never lets him

It ALSO ends in Ace being very VERY close and Sabo shivering a bit, asleep but riled up by warm hands, and when Ace falls asleep Sabo has about an hour or two left, usually hallmarked by some filthy ideas.

And then he wakes up and ace's hands are still under his clothing, their bodies pressed close?? Ace always cuddling him in so Sabo can't squirm out and go off to his duties without waking Ace??

It's risky, but Sabo has never had a good amount of common sense, concerning Ace, so he starts easy, just moving into Ace's hands, sighing and biting his lip as they shift, like ace is dragging his hands along Sabo's skin.

And then it turns into Sabo holding ace's hand by his heart as he jerks himself off, and then intertwining their fingers so Ace holds him while he grinds against a pillow, and then kissing ace's palm as he faces Ace and gets ace's thigh against his crotch

Doesn't get off from it - doesn't want to explain the mess - but taking the edge off, hard enough that it hurts, so it can feel like a punishment that he's doing this

And then, of course, the one time ace is still awake - or wakes up before him - and Sabo's fluttering out of his dreams to realise ace is kissing the back of his neck, below where his collar is, holy shit has ace been giving him hickies--

And Sabo shifts to grab ace's hand and put it on his belly, just by his hip, their fingers intertwined, and Ace freezes. Sabo shivers at the startled inhale, and mumbles, "why'd you stop?"

"you were- sleeping." Ace says, sounding kinda panicked, and Sabo snorts a little bit and then fakes a quiet snore. Ace seems to relax, infinitesimally, and his chin presses to Sabo's shoulder. Unbidden, Sabo tilts a little to see Ace from the corner of his eye and Ace bites his neck. "Sleeping," he says, but Sabo can feel the way his hand is trembling just minutely against Sabo's belly.

"get me off," he whispers, and presses back against ace's thighs. "i want more good dreams."

[gojonanami]

Dearest Sab,

As someone who currently studies English literature, I am absolutely, wholeheartedly and utterly obsessed with 'The Ethics of Relationships'!

It is such a good series! It's probably one of the best, if not the best, series that I've ever read on Tumblr.

I actually really enjoyed this chapter. I think it really responded well to the previous chapters, and it worked really well as a set-up for the final instalment.

As I am writing now and reflecting upon your work, which I read for the first time yesterday, the first scenes that spring to mind are Suguru's scene of self-reflection and Reader's dream of having an engagement party. 

Personally, I am a huge fan of how you write Suguru in general, and I adore and cherish your Professor Geto, and I just really appreciated how you tackled Suguru's mental deliberation. I thought it was relatable, true to Suguru's character, and just really interesting to read.

As for the engagement party scene, I think I was so surprised to read it that when I read it, I just let out a small little gasp, and a little small 'oh no', and it was just so sad because it just hinted at the potential of what could have been. (I am so happy that the ending is going to be a happy one for them!) I think the dream motif worked really well here, and I love how it echoes and responds to previous parts while being harmonious, cool and insightful. 

I adore your writing style. I really do. I love that your writing strikes the balance of being clean and slick, and descriptive and evocative. I love that your writing reads as though it's been edited, well thought-through, and I love how it's paced. I think you're really, really talented. 

This series is a true joy to read, and I always get really excited whenever I see updates regarding this series! I'm really excited to read chapter six!

hi bb 🥹 — this was very kind especially from a fellow lit major!! I was a lit major in college too!! that is very sweet 💕😭 feels like very high praise I feel undeserving of but I appreciate it so so much 🫣🫶😭

I’m so glad you enjoyed the part — it really was set up for the next part and I really feel like parts 2 and 5 very much served as set up for the next part that they followed but were very necessary nonetheless

It truly makes me so warm when someone says I write suguru well because in an AU, I still want the essence of the character to be there and for you to say that it is, means so so much.

yes the engagement definitely is reader’s subconscious thinking about what was supposed to be next for them in the future and the loss of that hits her all over again. I had to bring back the dreams and the dreaded “ring”-ing again hahah

you’re very very kind — honestly I don’t edit much, which sounds like a brag but it really isn’t. I wish my brain was fit for it or that I had time to do it. I truly am just making this up as I go along with some loose ideas that turn into something. so it makes me all happy when someone says they enjoy my work as it is because it truly is in its rawest forms in someway

thank you so much for your kind words and for being here and continuing to read!! I’m doing my best to make sure the last part lives up to expectations 🥹💕😭 love you babe 🫶🫣🥹😭

[baldy-wan-kenobi]

Okay people, here we go:

Baldy's Book Club

Episode 1: "Into the Storm"

By Taylor Anderson, Book 1 of the Destroyermen series.

Okay, so, on the recommendation of my most esteemed mutual @frogblast-the-ventcore , I have been coerced to read the Destroyermen series, and post my thoughts about them as I do.

So, for part 1, here we go. I'm going to assume those of you reading have read the book, cause if you haven't, you should be going to buy it, right now. I mean it.

First and foremost, this book was written by a ww2 nerd, for ww2 nerds, and by god does it show. Taylor Anderson is a professor of history, and it shines through in every part of the book. From the technical details of the USS Walker, to the shortcomings of the Mk. 14 torpedo, to the attitudes, lives, and habits (both good and bad) of a 1942 Asiatic fleet destroyerman. Speaking of which, call me Dean Kamen, cause that's a perfect segway to talk about

The Characters

To begin with, do not expect a normal person's assessment of these characters. Expect a Normal™ person's view of them.

First: Captain Matthew Reddy. Oh my lord this man. He's an absolute mess, knows it, and yet cannot let that show, because, well he's stranded in an alternate universe with humanoid lemurs and sapient velociraptors. In my head, he's got total divorced dad energy going on, 30-something going on 50 because of stress, greying at the temples but still hot in a DILF kind of way, not overly muscular, and with one hell of a voice. (I'll admit the audio book colored my perception, but it's a fantastic audio book so I don't care.)

Next, Chack-Sab-At, the biggest and most baddass guyfailure to ever live. "Oh, I'm a pacifist" then the very second that an enemy without moral repercussions comes along he's all "I love violence and killing and murder and death and injuring people and blood and biting and cutting and-" like, seriously, dude says he's a pacifist before turning around and becoming Furry Doomguy.

Next, Dennis Silva, he-who-was-told-not-to-fuck-the-monkey-cats-but-did-it-anyway. Moving on,

There's literally more I love about the characters than I want to sit here and type out, so I'm going to cut it short, but Oh My God these characters are A+.

Next, I just want to touch on something these books made me feel. A lot of times, as an USAmerican with an actual brain, I can get bogged down in the fucked-up shit my country has done and feel like I can't celebrate what makes the US cool without making it sound like I'm excusing all the bad stuff, but this book kinda made me stop for a minute and go "man, the US is kinda fucking rad, when you think about it." Because, you know what? It is. Yeah, we've done fucked up shit, but we've also done some pretty awesome stuff. For every My Lai Massacre, there's a moon landing. For every Trail of Tears, there's a Berlin Airlift. Sometimes, it's okay to take a moment and just go "Fuck yeah, guys. Were pretty cool." Because this book really makes you feel that, at least it did to me, but I'll get off my red, white and blue high horse and keep going.

Alright, now we come to the part that I need to get out...

THE BRITISH EAST INDIA COMPANY

Literally everywhere in my life, I am haunted and stalked by the specter of a long-dead megacorporation. In every piece of media, in every topic I research, no matter what, they're there. As the Frogman quoted from me in a meme a while back "I'm being haunted by the ghost of English imperialism". What the fuck? Anyway, if you wanna chat about the book, please do, because I am at terminal levels of Fandom.

Anyway, if you want to read along for the next Baldy's Book Club, we'll be reading Crusade, the next book in the Destroyermen series.

(P.S. Frogman, I know this review isn't very good, but my brain is soup rn so this is whatchu get.

[fictionalslvr]

NAVIGATION - FICTIONALSLVR

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!

You can call me Sab, she/her, +18, I'm a new writer trying to evolve and i'm Brazilian!

English is not my first language, so if you see any error, please tell me, i will appreciate.

If you're a minor reading my content, be warned about your actions, i am not responsible for you. This content isn't meant for you, minors, do not interact. Please.

i'm always open for requests or ideas! Just send me your thoughts on my ask and I'll be happy anyway :)

What i most use on this blog contains the work of this blog's here @cafekitsune and @saradika <3

DO NOT INTERACT if you're racist, homophobic, transphobic, fatphobic, sexist, pedophile or anything along those lines, just don't be disrespectful to anyone.

masterlist. information about my writing. more about me on carrd.

[imperatorrrrr]

3 more things I associate with you. night markets in the summer, trying a million different street foods from all over the world, a warm breeze blowing through your hair, different types of foreign music playing from the different stalls, wanting the night to go on forever. an early morning in the city, business attire in place, strutting along the sidewalk as cars honk in the back, a cup of coffee in your hand and a no-nonsense attitude in place. taking body shots off strangers, the bass in your bones and your heart beating wild, the music making your body move on its own, pleasantly buzzed and screaming out song lyrics with your friends 💗

this is fucking poetry, Sab. sheesh.

god the night market, street food, gentle breeze, I am...I am so emotional, like yeah. yeah. you get it.

I read this ask this morning and I felt so seen while I was commuting to court with my blazer on and it made me feel even more confident and even more hot, so thank you for that.

damn Sab, were you there when I would go clubbing?! god this is like being teleported back there. such perfect description truly.

you're something else.

[wafflesandkruge]

hello, wraith (kanej 3+1)

3 times Kaz hears Inej behind him and 1 time he doesn't.

ao3

a/n: hiiii if the premise sounds familiar then you've probably read the original ficlet which i posted a few years ago (a real fan ty). after sab s2 (ew) i wanted to revisit some of my old kanej fics and rewrite them bc i noticed a lot of changes and edits i wanted to make so they're less,,,cringe. original can be found here if you want to do a comparison (pls don't). the plot is exactly the same, but (i hope) the writing has improved, so pls enjoy ✌🏼

The first time Inej entered his office through the window, he heard her coming. Her cheap boots scratched along the rough brick of the Slat’s exterior wall, and Kaz was alerted before she’d even reached the second floor below his office. He set his paperwork down with a sigh and pushed the window open for her just before she could reach for the latch. “Hello, Wraith.”

Inej clambered through the window, frustration evident in every movement, and pulled her hood down. In the soft candlelight of his office, her skin was luminous brown, the light catching the gold in her ears and the gleam of the knives at her waist. It had only been about a week since she’d left the Menagerie, and Kaz was pleased to see her color had improved somewhat. But her spywork needed improvement if she was to be of any use to him. “I could hear you a mile away.”

Inej pursed her lips, taking his criticisms silently. He could have said that it wasn’t her fault, that her boots were the problem, or her inexperience with the cityscape. But he was not kind, and Inej was not made of glass that would shatter under the slightest pressure. He opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a small, wooden box.

“Don’t come back here until you can do it soundlessly. With these on.”

He tossed the box at her. She flipped the lid open and a combination of displeasure and anger flashed across her face. Kaz knew what she was seeing—metal anklets with dozens of little bells strung on them, not unlike the ones she’d worn at the Menagerie. 

It was a test, and a challenge, in a way. Kaz watched as she stared at the anklets for another moment, then snapped the box shut. Her lips were pulled into a scowl, but still, she nodded mutely and left his office without a word.

-

The second time had been about a month after the first. Kaz had been worried—Inej had disappeared for long stretches of the night, only to reappear at the Slat early in the morning. When he’d put a tail on her, they’d all reported the same thing: she was practicing climbing in the warehouse district. Why she thought that was safe, he had no idea. He’d posted a Crow there to watch her discreetly, then put it out of his mind. Either she would learn, or he’d overestimated her. And Kaz Brekker was rarely wrong.

He smiled to himself and set his paperwork aside. It was always nice to be right.

“Hello, Wraith.” 

Inej paused, half of her body still outside the window. 

“How did you know?” They were the first words Inej had spoken to him in almost two weeks. She pulled herself through the window and stood to the side of his desk, each movement as silent as shadow despite the anklets clasped around her boots. She looked well rested despite her late nights, her countenance more confident and self-assured than ever. A new knife, one with a simple bone handle, was strapped to her forearm. He’d seen Jesper purchasing the same one from a street vendor during one of their trips to Fifth Harbor. Inej making friends among the Crows would be useful to him in the future. 

He leaned back in his chair and folded his gloved hands together. “I don’t let the same person get the drop on me twice. But you passed. The anklets.” 

He extended a hand, and he could see the way Inej’s gaze was drawn to his leather gloves, a thousand unasked questions in her dark eyes. She unclasped the anklets and placed them carefully in his palm, her fingertips brushing against the leather for the briefest second. Kaz’s breath hitched at the slight pressure. Although it was impossible through the thick material, he swore he felt a lick of warmth from her skin. His skin went cold. 

He pushed past his body’s panic and threw the anklets into the fireplace. Inej’s gaze was finally averted from him and he could breathe again. She watched them burn with a small curl of her lips, then was gone as quickly as she’d appeared.

-

The next time, Kaz was busy working on the Crow Club’s monthly accounting. He hardly looked up when he felt the telltale change in the air. “Hello, Wraith.”

Inej made a small noise of acknowledgement, then crossed his office to the small cabinet of medical supplies he kept around for emergencies. There was some clattering around and a few muttered words in Suli, then Inej plopped onto the chair in front of her desk and dumped supplies onto his desk.

Kaz looked up, peeved. “Inej, what– Ghezen!”

She’d tracked bloody footprints all over his office, from the window, to the cabinet, to the chair where she now sat, wincing, as she cleaned the cut and blistered undersides of her feet. “Don’t worry,” she said, in that unnervingly calm way of hers, “I’ll clean it up.”

“That’s not–” Kaz bit back a curse, not sure why he felt so irritated. “What the hell happened? Was it another gang?”

She gave a noncommittal shrug as she began wrapping bandages around her foot. “My boots wore out. I climb better without shoes anyways, but I am not used to Ketterdam yet.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’ll contract some disease before the day is out,” Kaz growled. He wasn’t about to lose his investment over something as foolish as an infection. “Borrow a pair from someone downstairs until you get paid.”

“As you say.”

As soon as Inej was gone, his office clean as she’d promised, Kaz paid a visit to a grisha fabrikator.

-

Years later, Kaz sat at his desk, a blank page in front of him. With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and put his pen to the paper. Greatly esteemed Council of Tides…

If there was one thing Kaz hated more than kissing up to people, it was not getting what he wanted. He gritted his teeth as he used his most flattering language to ask for a blind eye at a certain berth, then signed the letter with a flourish. He stuffed the scrawled letter and a promissory note for an ungodly amount of kruge into an envelope and prepared his wax seal. Just as he started to melt the wax, his candle blew out with a gust of wind. Kaz paused.

“Hello, Wraith.”

The wind whistled on, but the voice he so desperately wanted to hear was missing. Kaz glanced at the window just to be sure. There wasn’t a soul in his office other than his, and that was debatable. Swearing softly to himself, he relit the candle and sealed the letter. He was losing his touch.

On his way to the Council of Tides, he passed by The Wraith’s berth. It was empty, as it had been for a month. Kaz glanced at the gray horizon. It wasn’t quite enough for him just to know she was out there somewhere, bringing down justice to those who deserved it. At every moment, he craved her silent presence next to his, her bright smiles, even her Suli proverbs. It was selfish, he knew. But he couldn’t help wanting. With one last glance, he continued on his way.

After a relative success of a meeting, he walked back through the harbor towards the Slat. Night had fallen, but the docks were still busy with wandering crews and raucous laughter. Kaz’s cane clicked against the ground as he turned his collar to the wind and resolutely went on his way. Perhaps there’d be an interesting brawl tonight, or Jesper would pay a visit. He passed by berth twenty-two. Then spun around. It was occupied, the crew already busy unloading by the dim streetlights. A voice came from the dark behind him. 

“Hello, Kaz.”

[galwithalibrarycard]

Ninej AU Moodboards: Prizefighter x Nurse AU (Underground prizefighter Inej goes to reluctant student-nurse Nina to tend to her wounds, and of course, they fall in love)

Image Description: A moodboard for a Ninej prizefighter x nurse AU. Top row: a white-to-grey square with black text reading “I’ll take care of you”; a brown woman’s bare shoulder and arm, her hand resting on her shoulder and wrapped in a while bandage, her face obscured by red cloth; a black and white image of several pills on a dark cloth surface, I’m thinking they’re pain meds for this AU. Middle row: a brown woman’s arm and hand wrapped in a fingerless black glove/brace, resting on her knees; a shot of Inej smiling at Nina as Nina tends to a cut on her arm, from SaB season 2; a black square with a white neon sign reading “fight for your right”. Bottom row: A nurse in scrubs, pictured from the neck down, holding her gloved hands in a heart shape over her left breast; a boxing gym with red brick walls and a black and white hanging punching bag along with some stretchy ropes for exercise; a grey backdrop with a yellow and silver stethoscope on it.

[midnight1404]

1, 6, 7, 16, 19, 27, 28, 29!

Well, this was my first year dong fanfiction so following my word count (without counting three comms of 5k words that i didnt upload) i write 65, 993 words this year!!! yippy!!

6. To my surprise, that will be "As we fall (You will be part of me)" my poem collection that i have a little abandoned (but i will be back tho heheheh :3)

7. Well tbh, with a few exceptions, i almost never use song lyrics as titles so for now i don't an especial artist that i use the most (but i predict that one will be surely Breaking Benjamin or Ethel Cain surely)

16. Taking out the obvious ones like Dead dove, incest, etc. I'm proud that tag is "Catholic imagery" and "Daddy issues"

19. I can say jakelo? nah, just kidding...I think bessides my otp, im interested in explore more Quaritch's charcter in different angles and obviously i will do it along with Lo'ak (and maybe Taliya bc i just like imagine Q with someone he can't stand.)

27. I can't explain it very well, is a mess without a real order, is just a mix of Crystal Castles, Breaking Benjamin (or rock in general), Mitski, etc.

28. The Offspring and My Sab's gift one-shot (that is coming)

29.I have two coming from my two first works ever, and i cant chose just one so here it is:

The first one comes from the fourth chapter of A Father's child (my first fanfic, pls dont read it, is bad compared to my other works.), and i hold it close to my heart bc summarizes one of the main reasons why im so fixated in Lo'ak and Jake's relathionship, how difficult and fuck up it is, where there is intense amount of love but also a lot of past, guilt, and ghosts:

“I know that I’m a failure to you…” Lo’ak says with a broken voice, a single tear falls from his eye. “But is a lot of begging to look at me? Not as Toruk makto’s soldier or the kid that you were once time ago but as your son, Father….” More tears fall through his face, his voice cracking. “I’m your son, an imperfect one.”

 Jake thinks that statement it’s a cruel joke. Every time that he sees Lo’ak since his birth, the first sentence that come always to Jake’s mind is My child. The single one from his children of blood that came to this world with five fingers and eyebrows, the one who is stubborn and capable of jump to the danger without think twice, just like Jake.

"Neteyam is his pride, Kiri his empathy and Tuk his kindness. Lo’ak is the child that could have been born just from Jake’s rib. Jake Sully’s child in appearance, blood and heart.

Jake is scared for him because of that, the last thing that he desires for his boy is the same road and mistakes.

Ending with stained hands and uncountable sins. That simple thought makes Jake want to eat Lo'ak to make him reborn without the curse of being like Jake Sully."

The second one is from the sixth chapter of Look at me (on the horns of a dilemma), this one is mortly bc i suffered writing this with my impostor sindrome hitting me in my guts while my lack of english was not helping me at all, writing something more ambicious than i did before, and im proud that atleast i made to not gave up in it in the process.

"“After days spent doubtful and afraid, Fabian made the decision to free his little brother from Christian’s claws. So, in the dead of night when the eldest boy returned to the house, Fabian mustered the courage to sneak into his brother’s room and steal the shed’s key. When he managed to grab the keys without making noise, he didn't waste any time and ran to the shed so fast his legs ached. He opened the door with trembling hands, but what he was met with was not something he recognized as his brother.”

Lo’ak doesn’t want to feel like he’s walking in a tightrope anymore. He doesn’t want to feel like every breath he takes is a step closer to falling into a void, never to see the sun again. Lo’ak wants to be capable of at least knowing what he really wants for his future, something that is not swimming.

“A chained wolf-beast was what he saw. A beast with a big mouth that contained deadly, stained fangs. A beast with claws that appeared larger than Fabian’s head. It began to growl, which let out a putrid scent from its mouth. The boy froze in front of the thing that he once called a child, staring into its eyes. Dark, foggy-red orbs replacing the warm amber, erasing any trace of innocence, leaving only the dreadful ferocity. Fabian would have begun to cry if not for the sudden sound of the door closing. His heart stopped when he tried to open it and found out that it was locked. He started to scream, begging to be let out. This seemed to irritate the beast behind him, its growls getting louder with every cry. He heard Christian’s voice through the other side of the door, ‘This is what happens when you don’t listen’.”

Lo’ak is aware that the people around him would not even stand him being their sight if they knew about his forbidden lust and he understands why.

“No matter how Fabian begged or cried or screamed, Christian, the perfect son and brother, left his little brother trapped with a monster that, with the sunrise, would wake up as a kid again. A kid that would wake up with blood coating his skin and a new corpse that wasn’t from a sheep.”

But the Sully's middle child can’t stop thinking about his younger self. If the kid that Lo’ak was could see him in the present, what would his impression be?"

Thanks for the asks!!!