#terrible movie but this song is fun as hell

[pariaritzia]

-'rent laga, 'rent laga, 'rent laga re,

main nacha toh sabko current laga re!

[moonyasnow]

Sleeping Beauty's Tentative Prince.

PROMPT : They kiss you in your sleep

CHARACTERS : Ace, Jack, Malleus, Sebek

CONTENT : fluff and angst, pre-relationship, they are PI-NING, the fae have…strange priorities. or maybe it's just Lilia in particular(Malleus' part), internalized racism (Sebek's part)

—

I do NOT condone doing this in real life to someone who hasn't consented. But this is fiction so fuck it we ball

While you were awake, he could not show the affection to you that he wished he could, caught up in his own fears it might not be reciprocated and could strain your current relationship.

But in sleep, you would never know. In sleep, he could more easily deliberate upon his fondness for you, as much confusion, anxiety, fear, hope and longing as they brought him.

Ace

Ace Trappola portrayed himself as a 'coaster extraordinaire', gliding only where turf is smooth, dancing through life without a care in the world for anything besides goofing off with his friends. Stuff like 'love' and 'romance' wasn't on his radar, deciding he'd rather steer clear of it after an experience dating in middle school that left him feeling so utterly...bored, not really there, as having to live up to some ideal decided by his partner. Was that what all those books and songs and movies was hyping up? He felt lied to! It wasn't fun, and he couldn't understand how his now ex-girlfriend, or anyone else for that matter, really thought of any of that stuff as desirable!

The 'ghost bride', Eliza, was really just a personification of everything that made him want to steer clear of it. After she finally decided to shuffle off this mortal coil for good, along with her equally ghost— to Idia's utter relief— husband, too tired from all that fighting to really feel like it was worth it, he decided he'd rather crash at Ramshackle than walk all the way back to Heartlsabyul.

You declared you'd make it a sleepover, which was why he was laying in a sleeping bag on the musty living room floor of the ancient, decrepit house, creaking and groaning from the wind and its own whims. You laid next to him, on a mattress(unfair of you not to bring a second, by the way), sound asleep. He was kinda envious of you in that moment, you know?

Despite how dead tired he was after not only all the battle stuff but cleaning up the cafeteria on top of it, sleep just wouldn't bless him with its embrace. And desptire how much he didn't want to, especially not after all the other first-years— including Deuce, the bastard— made fun of him for the thought he'd already put into it...he found the topic of 'love' spinning around his head again.

He sure as hell didn't want the kind that Eliza'd idealized it to be. The others claimed that he, out of all the other suitors, did at least seem to know what he wanted. "...someone you can laugh with, and cry with...someone who'll stick with you through all the hard times..." He felt flustered and like an idiot recalling he'd said that for the entire room to hear, even more so due to the fact they'd caught on he was actually being genuine.

Then for some inexplicable reason he got an urge to turn his head to look at you. You looked about as tired as he felt. By that meaning you looked terrible. Or so he'd say if you were asking him why he was staring. Why was he staring? Probably because he was concerned. Just a little bit. Crowley already threw enough shit your way on the regular anyway, now you have to deal with this, too. And he never understood why you still tried so hard.

You, while not even having magic, had still given it your all during those battles, throwing rocks and twigs and even a goddamn wall-mounted candlestick— or well, that used to be wall-mounted, though apparently not as well as anyone thought they were if you could just pull it off the wall— at the ghosts. It phased right through them, obviously, but it'd annoyed and distracted them enough to make his and the others' job a whole lot easier. It was long past time for him to take back everything he said about you the first day you met by the school's Main Street.

You really had become an all-in-one janitor, photographer, therapist, and law-enforcer in one in the time you'd been here. It really wasn't fair. But you'd once told him it was easier since you had him and the rest of the braincell squad around. And he had to admit, it was the same for him. When it came to you in particular. Sure, he liked Deuce, and maybe Grim too just a little bit, but having you there was...special. He's not sure how he would've dealt with the incident at that one absolutely horrible unbirthday party and his Housewarden's total freak-out if you weren't there...or if, before it, he'd have had to spend the night in Ramshackle all alone with just the ghosts for company.

His eyes widened. Wait... He started to feel warm from top to bottom. He didn't mean it like— you weren't— y-you were just buds! You know? Friends. Just friends. And then he wanted to strangle someone when he realized those words tasted bitter in his mouth. Getting up on his elbow and looking at your sleeping face he couldn't place every thought whirring through his head. He thought you were kinda pretty or whatever, sure, but it's not weird to think your friend is pretty! And maybe...

No. Try as he might, every new excuse he came up with for why that couldn't be the case was just that; an excuse. He liked you. As more than just a friend. Maybe he kept trying to deny it because of how different this felt to his middle-school girlfriend. He thought she was cute and all, but he felt so alone when he was with her. Like she was seeing some boyfriend-shaped cut-out in place of him. He never felt alone when he was with you. And he sure as hell would never take a whole day's worth of public transport to school on a break for anyone else.

But it's not like he was planning for this. It felt strange, the way you went from 'best friend' to 'best friend I wanna be with' in his mind. Because, those categories weren't supposed to intersect, were they? Or could they? It just felt weird.

…But when he got past his initial shock, he realized that, thinking of you that way felt…natural. It was strange. Strange that it wasn't something he had to psyche himself up for. Maybe he was more like Eliza than he initially realized, in that way. Not noticing that kind of love when it was right in front of him. Maybe he'd also gotten caught up in that idealization of love, never realizing before that love actually could be with someone like that…someone he cherished like a best friend.

Laying down again and turning his whole body to face you properly, he stared at you. You really were pretty. Not in that way where you see someone and can just tell whether they're pretty or not. Not in the attraction kinda way either. Well, there might have been a little bit of that too. But mostly, there was just something...special, about you.

About your face, and your eyes, hair, shoulders, nose, chin, neck, hands and just— everything. Just looking at you made him feel warm. It usually did. But especially in that moment. It was weird, how just thinking those things seemed to jump-start his heart like some old motor, because now it was racing in the night. He found himself leaning closer, until his breath fanned at your lips. Looking at you from such a close proximity was weird. Sure, he might wrap an arm around or lean it on your shoulder pretty often, and do things like flick your forehead or your nose to see you pouting at him, but you'd never really been this close before. The tips of your noses were touching.

He was planning on moving away. He really was. But then you shifted in your sleep and your lips brushed softly against his.

As quickly as he could, he almost leapt backwards and turned his back to you and hoped to the Seven you didn't realize. Not then, not the next morning— not ever.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, and calm his racing heartbeat.

Sadly for him, he laid awake all night thinking about it and didn't get a lick of sleep.

He kinda hoped he could do it again one day. With you awake this time, of course. Yeah...with you, it might not be so bad. The Underworld would freeze over before he ever told you that though. Well, that was hyperbole. He just wanted to make sure you wouldn't like…laugh at him for it, or something.

…Maybe accidents weren't so bad sometimes.

Jack

Having grown up knowing that his parents, his grandparents, and most likely their parents and grandparents too, were mated for life— that they found each other and that was it— Jack Howl had always been sure that's how it would go for him too. That when he found 'the one' everything would be easy, and make sense instantly. And when he started to feel a strange new pressure in his chest around you, a desire to protect you more than even his other friends, he was sure that this was it. Yet something happened which he hadn't considered.

The person he fell for wasn't another wolf beastperson, nor any other kind of beastperson or mer who mated for life. You were human. And humans very much did not mate for life, as much as some might claim they would like to. For the first time he started to feel a bit of doubt about his future life plan. He was sure you were 'the one' for him… But now he had to start to contest with the fact that, he might not be 'the one' in your eyes.

So, he thought…he would try to court you in some way. Make it clear he could be a good partner for you.

During the second night at Vargas' training camp, when Grim hadn't returned from going to get blankets with the others, you had become so worried that you tried to run off to go looking for him. And Jack felt like he had no choice but to go with you; he would never risk you running into the shadow while alone. It definitely wasn't the smartest decision, and he had tried to stop you. But you had argued against him, insisting you wouldn't just leave Grim behind, no matter how much danger it put you in. That was something he had always respected about you; you always looked out for those in you pack. And he agreed to go with; he'd do the same for you— and then some— if you went missing, after all. But an hour of walking later, and you both realized that…you were lost. Now, not only was Grim gone, but those who remained at camp would think you both were gone, too.

You two had been walking for hours searching for the way back to no avail, when you had given up, swaying on your feet, saying you couldn't take another step. His eyes shot up in surprise, having been too caught up in getting you both back to camp to consider you didn't have anywhere near his levels of stamina, his ears flattening against his head with both guilt and a bit of embarrassment— guilt at not having realized you couldn't keep up, and embarrassment at not remembering the way back well enough. More like shame, really. He felt sure camp was the safest place for both of you right now, yet in his haste to follow you to make sure nothing jumped out at you, he'd neglected to keep good enough track of the scents around you both to be able to lead the way back. That wasn't how a good partner was supposed to behave! He was supposed to be able to make sure you were safe.

You were the one to suggest, with the night being so cold, that you sleep close to one another. He balked at the suggestion once it left your mouth, trying to hide the furious blush he knew would overtake his face if he let it— letting you see him like that would be way too embarrassing to consider; he was supposed to be cool! So you'd know he could protect you! Not act like some lovesi— o-overly affectionate— puppy! But when you reasoned that it was to conserve heat, to make sure neither of you ever became cold enough for it to be truly dangerous, he had no argument against it, and so was forced to go along with it. He didn't want you to freeze, after all. And no, don't misunderstand him! His tail did NOT just start wagging! And if it did, i-it was just nerves! N-not at being close to you— the shadow! NOT TO SAY HE COULDN'T TAKE ON THE SHADOW IF IT APPEARED—

He had to force himself to keep quiet, lest he put his foot in his mouth again.

He'd assumed you would just be sleeping next to each other. So when you slotted yourself right in his arms, your head on his chest, he froze in place, begging for dear life that you weren't hearing the way his heart was now racing. No matter if you did or not, you soon fell asleep. But Jack, like a protective guard dog (a comparison he didn't like but couldn't exactly deny at this moment) stayed awake for a while longer to make sure the area was truly safe, leading to him becoming lost in his thoughts.

He was confused why you were here at all. You weren't even part of a sports club! Or any club at all, for that matter; running errands for Crowley ate up too much of your time for you to be able to join one. But you were still here. You had claimed it was better than spending that time in school figuring out a way for a magicless student to succeed in magic assignments, Grim not often being fond of cooperating if there was no tuna involved, much to your frequent frustration. But it still really didn't sit right with him that you got caught up in all this when you were only meant to be there to take pictures. He thought Crowley should definitely compensate you for this, since you got caught in danger due to him making you go along with them. But by now he'd wised up enough to realize that was never going to happen. The thought began to really get on his nerves.

It was insane, how Crowley treated you like some slave with no mind or will of your own. Even worse, a disposable one he kept throwing at problems— dangerous problems...he still wasn't over how close you'd come to being seriously injured in the fight at the Mostro Lounge— that should have been CROWLEY'S job to handle. He almost began to growl just thinking about it. The mere thought of you, his m— friend...his good...friend...being hurt in the slightest scared him. Enough that his arms unconsciously tightened around you. The scent of your hair, a reminder you were currently not in danger, put him at ease. He exhaled in silent relief.

…If…

After you both graduate, if he asked you to come with him back to his home in the Shaftlands, what would you say? He'd be able to keep you safe. Make sure you never had to live like this again. What with your status as not being from this world and thus having no legal identifying paperwork, getting a job would probably be hard for you. So he'd get a job and support both you and him. And Grim, of course— if Grim was your pack, he was Jack's, too. He was already sure his family would love you, and welcome you with open arms. And then one day down the line he'd—

He couldn't bring himself to finish his thought, face having grown far too red. But his tail wouldn't stop wagging. He might have thought of it before, but that was when you weren't literally sleeping in his arms. You being so close just...made everything feel too real.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind. What mattered right now was that he would keep you safe. Take care of you. Now…and hopefully, you'd allow him to do the same in the future.

But the fuzzy, excited feelings brought on by the thought he didn't finish didn't leave him, them and your scent lulling him further into a comfortable sleepiness. So close to sleep and overflowing with affection, he didn't even notice, let alone have the sense to stop himself, from placing a kiss to your forehead, snuggling up closer to you to make sure you kept warm, unconsciously smiling against the top of your head as he, too, was claimed by sleep.

It just felt so...right, to hold you.

…The next morning you were confused by why he refused to look you in the eye.

Malleus

Malleus Draconia, crown prince and heir to the fae Kingdom of Briar Valley, was used to spending his time alone. Used to having only his guards and mentor for company. Used to spending hours wandering through empty stone hallways and rigorously up-kept gardens where none but he, his beloved gargoyles, and the occasional critter dared wander.

Perhaps that was because of him.

Though he came to Night Raven College to 'broaden his horizons', after the first few months or so of classes in which he was left to work alone even on group projects, smelling the fear of his peers in the air, he had all but given up on finding an actual friend. Someone who would stay by his side not out of duty or necessity, but purely out of desire to.

The way you haphazardly seemed to stumble into his life and make a home for yourself in his hollow ruin of solitude had still not caught up with him, even months later.

It was late in the evening, the old decrepit clock in Ramshackle had just struck 12. You were on the couch, leaning against him, asleep on his shoulder as he read a book. Or at least, he had been trying to. For all of five minutes. The soft pressure of your body leaning against his arm had made him lose all focus for anything not related to you. So here he was, staring like a fool at your sleeping figure.

That you, so small and fragile compared to him, were not afraid of the dragon by your side— the horned beast with power enough to destroy most of the school with less than a snap of his fingers— never ceased to amaze him. Yet it was on nights like these, when you were too tired to go for your usual evening walk with him yet still wanted him near, that left him most awestruck. Not only did you say, with your own words, that you wished to be by his side despite your lack of energy…you trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Leaning against his shoulder, no less. It intoxicated his heart with pride, peace and longing in equal measure.

Yet, it only occurred to him the first time it happened that he had never seen another's sleeping face before. At least, not with their knowledge. He had seen you resting through your window on his late-night strolls before. Yet this was different. You allowed him this. If he did not already think you were the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever bore witness to, he did once he saw the gentle, peaceful expression on your face so close. He couldn't help but liken you to the sleeping princess in the old story of the Thorn Witch from his homeland. Sleeping so peacefully…all whilst leaning against a dragon.

His heart ached with feelings he had no words for as he stared at your face, streaked with moonlight, book long since forgotten. Cupping your cheek, he cursed the leather gloves keeping him from truly feeling your skin. In the back of his mind he harbored a fear he dare not put into words: that were he to feel your skin against his, it would be a point of no return, and he would never be able to go without it again. A curse to one such as him, who— his logic was much too aware for his liking— would be forced to grow accustomed to losing the touch of all things in time.

Yet his emotions, not bound by logic of any kind, wondered if you would like that. If him discarding his inhibitions and letting his gloveless hands roam every inch of your body would delight you the same way the mere thought did him. One part of him told him that 'yes, you would'; he was the fae prince, one of the most talented mages alive. He could keep you safe, give you anything you could ever desire. Yet another part of him said 'perhaps not' with barely any hesitation. He was a dragon, feared by man and fae alike for his power which could wipe out whole nations, should he desire to. The conflicting answers left him with a confusing sense of whiplash, not knowing which to trust. Yet, since you were not, unlike many, afraid of him, he found himself hoping your answer would fall more in line with the former…

Heart filled with trepidation and yearning in conflict with one another, he searched his mind for that always comforting anchor of knowledge that was Lilia's words. All that came to mind regarding the matter of kisses was that 'it was not to be done once the sun had set', which to him was good enough reason to force himself to abstain. Or at least, so he'd hoped. He wished to listen to his mentor's words, clung to them when his own young mind felt overcome with what he wished to do instead of what he ought to do…yet found he could not. At least, not fully.

Holding your warm hand in his which was cold beneath his gloves, the heat still slowly seeping from yours to his, yours appeared so small. As Malleus resisted the urge to rub his nose against yours, he felt his pulse beat in his throat. A metaphorical fire lit in the candle of his heart, flaring higher as he slowly neared your lips.

At the last second he managed to force himself to place his gloved hand gently over your mouth, placing a light, chaste kiss to the back of it.

He yearned to traverse further, to not have this self-imposed barrier in his way, to truly know if your lips were as soft as he imagined them to be, if they tasted as sweet. It was difficult to draw a line for himself. But, despite pouting through it, he still did. Once more recalling Lilia's words of wisdom: it would be impolite to steal your first kiss— or at least, so Malleus assumed it was— without your knowledge, after all.

After that he made up his mind to keep himself in check. That was enough for tonight, he thought and tried to return to his book. But his thoughts never stopped drifting to you.

It equally unsettled and enthralled him.

Sebek

The son of a human father and a fae mother— a fae mother who went entirely against the norms and expectations of her people and culture to marry a human man, a man whose people had hurt hers, and whose union with her had barely been accepted, much less understood— to say that Sebek Ziegvolt feels many conflicting emotions interacting with humans would be an understatement.

He, having seen the scorn his parents' union brought his mother, had vowed as a young child that he would 'never be stupid enough to choose to marry a human'. For he, at his young age, fully believed it was something he had control over. And he still did well into his teens, Lilia's explanation that love cared not for what people had decided, while he admired, revered and respected the older fae greatly, was still not quite enough to persuade him that there could ever be a possibility of him, Sebek Ziegvolt, proud knight of the Lord Malleus Draconia, deigning to fall for a mere human. He couldn’t understand the appeal in any way, shape or form. Human were weak. Fae— he— were strong.

What use had the strong for the weak?

But when you saw him freezing in the cold winter air, you wrapped your scarf around him. He, predictably, began to chastise you, claiming through a runny nose that as a human you were weaker than he and that he could handle this cold, and would not lose to mere weather— which was evidently not the case, as his own words were cut off by a big sneeze, to which you simply laughed. What nerve you had, he thought, for you, a mere human, to laugh at him, Sebek Ziegvolt. To laugh at his weakness! But his thoughts stopped dead in their tracks when you removed the hand covering your mouth and he saw your smile. It was...dazzling. A depiction of beauty which he had only heard described before.

In his daze he almost missed you taking a napkin out of your pocket and wiping away the mess under his nose, still smiling at him the same way.

Though he chided you, claiming to not need it, he was powerless to stop the stutter in his heart at your gesture. The tip of your finger grazed his jaw for a fraction of a second as you withdrew your hands, and it haunted his dreams for weeks. And the gentle smile on your face, showing, as far as he knew, nothing but sincere care for him, was enough to make him feel as though he didn't need the scarf at all.

It was...dizzying.

He saw his displays of weakness as just that: weakness, not vulnerability. In his eyes he must not have either to be able to be a good, no, even passable knight to his Young Master! Deep down he knew his Lord Malleus was already strong enough to not really need a knight. But he could never shake the worry it was on him, that he didn't need a knight because Sebek wasn't knightly enough. That was why he worked so hard. His position, with Lord Malleus, in life, had to mean something. Make him mean something.

But you never seemed to care for how he thought of it, showing him small gestures of kindness over and over again. In time he found he had begun to expect those small gestures, despite how he might still had insisted they were unnecessary. That you continued them despite his insistence...warmed him, just like when you lent him your scarf— which he always returned to you each day, knowing you would wrap it around him again the next.

At first he was sure you must have bewitched him, cast some manner of curse upon him— forgetting the fact that you, as magicless, would not be capable of such a feat— for he could find no other logical explanation for what the feeling of full-body lightness and heart-stuttering you brought upon him could be. At least...none he wanted to listen to; none that made sense to him.

You were human.

What he could never let himself be.

And he, the knight of Malleus Draconia, couldn't make the same strange choice as his mother, no matter how highly he respected her.

Yet whether he wished to or not, they'd taken hold of him, struck his heart like lightning, leaving a permanent mark of you on his very being.

It was shortly after that incident that he had, one evening, come to Ramshackle in search of Lord Malleus, and instead found you on one of the Dorm's benches, looking moments away from sleep. For a moment, thoughts of his search for his liege left his mind. When he asked what you were doing out alone this late at night, interrogating you like you'd broken some kind of curfew Ramshackle didn't have, you smiled and said you were waiting for Malleus to go on your usual evening stroll with him. Something about that gave him a sour feeling in his chest. For you or for Lord Malleus, he couldn't say.

Huffing, he said he might as well wait with you. You said nothing at that, just smiled and patted the spot next to you. Reluctantly, he did.

You sat in silence for a while, him trying to ignore the way so many feelings he couldn't figure out the meanings of stung at his chest. He was so caught up in his mind that it was only once he'd finally figured out something to say to you and took a deep breath that he realized his shoulder felt heavier, and he looked over to see you leaning against it, sound asleep. He was about to begin to scold you for falling asleep while waiting for his Young Master! It was bad enough his Lord Malleus had to endure the tardiness of Silver on acount of the latter's propensity for falling into slumber at any given moment! But when he looked at your face again, the words, for once, froze in his throat and fizzled away.

The way your mouth was left slightly agape, leaving a small trail of drool running down your chin, really should have appalled him, been seen as something pathetic, left him feeling distaste of some kind. But when you'd still smiled at him when he had snot running from his nose, how could he?

Maybe it was fine to…let you sleep. You didn't fall asleep like this often anyway…

As gently as he could, so as not to wake you, he lifted your body up and sat you in his lap, shifting and angling himself to allow your legs to still hang over the edge of the bench, now exchanged for his legs. He looked up at your sleeping expression in reverence, bringing his thumb to wipe away your drool. In his other hand he took yours, which had been hanging limply at your side. With his other arm around your waist to keep you from tipping over, he leaned his head, cheeks burning, against your shoulder, yours falling atop his as he did.

Closing his eyes, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

His heart fluttered with a novel tenderness...yet not one he found he minded. He would guard you as you slept. Care for you in your 'weakness', just as you had him in his.

To love a human might not be something he was yet capable of. But, if you would extend to him the same, not a half-fae, but him...

...he might be able to love you.

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First of all I just want to say: Thank you thank you thank you SO MUCH to everyone who engaged at all with my last (and first) writing post! > <

Knowing people like my writing was such a massive motivation-boost to me! I tend to struggle with perfectionism and feeling like my writing isn't good enough by my own standards, so all that stuff is very, very appreciated!

I also wanna say sorry if any of them seemed OOC— aside from Malleus, I don't feel as confident in writing these characters as I do for the characters in my first post, since I don't know them as well yet. A big thank you to @yuurei20 for their TWST character fact sheets (found here) for the help! And also to the people who contribute to the the English TWST wiki!

Lastly: A reminder if you didn't already know, that I do, in fact, take requests! Coming up with WHAT to write is usually the hardest part for me; when I get past that I have a blast! ^^

...Also I think doing the research for this has skyrocketed Sebek up my 'favorite TWST characters' list because damn. That's rough, buddy. And honestly same in a way. His part was definitely my favorite to write.

[bxeckersz]

Tree House | Azzi Fudd x Teammate!reader

Summary: Y/n has had a terrible week and the only person that can cheer her up is Azzi.

Warnings: none i think idk

A/N: i love making fics with songs its so fun

“‘Do not enter’, it’s written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I have had a terrible week. it’s all been shitty. Today, i cracked. I got my chemistry exam results back and i absolutely failed it.

I walk into the team’s dorm, anger and sadness pent up in me. “Hey girlyy” KK beams as I walk in. “Hey” I reply quietly, taking my shoes off.

“What’s wrong” Jana says, noticing my demeanor. I shake my head, tears already building up. “nothing” I reply softly, my voice shaky.

“Are you sure?” Paige asks, looking up. “I’m fine” I raise my voice, walking into my room and slamming the door. “What’s up with her?” Caroline asks. “I don’t know.” Jana shakes her head.

As soon as i sit down the tears flow. I’m so stressed. “is she crying?” Ashlynn asks. “I think so” Paige says, getting up.

“Y/n?” She says, knocking on my door. “Go away” I sob quietly.

“Y/n, it’s me. let me in” Paige basically begs. “Go away, Paige!” I yell.

About ten minutes go by of each individual girl trying to get in my room and talk to me. Every time, I just pushed them away and told the to go away.

“Let me try” Azzi says, standing up. “It’s not gonna work, Az” Paige sighs as her, KK, Aubrey, and Aaliyah stand by my door.

“Y/n. It’s me, Azzi. Please let me in” She says softly. “Go away.” I whisper. “i’ll be right back.” I hear azzi say to the 4 girls.

About twenty minutes go by and she’s back at my door. “Y/n, please. Let me in.” She asks again. “Azzi” I sniffle.

“Y/n.” She replies back. “Fine. come in.” I give up. “Dude, what the hell.” Paige groans. “You gotta teach me how to do that” She adds.

I watch as Azzi walks in my room. She has some bags in her hand. She drops them on my desk and immediately walks over to hug me.

“are you okay?” She soothes, hugging me tightly. I shake my head softly, crying into her arms.

“What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.” She whispers.

“I- i’ve just been really stressed about things this past week.” I shake my head. “Stressed about what?” She mumbles, pulling away from the hug.

I shake my head. “Classes. Practice. everything” I sigh. “I’m just really stressed about everything, y’know?” I shrug.

I watch as Azzi nods. “I failed a super important test. And I studied so hard.” I cry. “I’m just so over it.”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” She says softly, hugging me. “Don’t cry, baby.” She soothes, gently stroking my hair.

I bite the inside of my cheek, clinging on to her. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” I mope. “Okay. We don’t have to. Just know, if you need anyone to talk to, i’m always here, okay? Always.” She says, looking me in my eyes.

“mhm” I nod. “Cmon, let’s watch a movie.” She says getting up and grabbing the various bags off my desk.

“I got snacks” She smiles, sitting back in my bed. “Thanks” i smile back.

We pick ‘Enchanted’ because it’s one of my favorite Disney movies. “c’mere” She motions to me. I climb into her arms as the movie starts.

“Everythings gonna be okay” She whispers, pressing a small kiss on my head.

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thanks for reading all the way through!

ending was hella rushed. also i 🫶🏽 enchanted its so good

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Five Nights Of Hell - Mike Schmidt X GN Reader

Title: Five Nights Of Hell

Mike Schmidt X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Abby, Vanessa (Mentioned), and William Afton (Mentioned)

WC: 1,685

Warnings: A tiny bit of lying, flirting, teasing, William Afton, FNAF canon violence, very minor cursing, blood, injuries, death mentioned, knives mentioned, stabs mentioned, hospitals, slight angst, and fluff

Mike's alarm boomed, signaling for the young man to wake up. You groaned softly as Mike shifted in bed, his arm that was wrapped around you tightening ever so slightly before it relaxed again. He yawned softly into your neck before pressing a kiss in the same spot and flipping over to slip out of bed. Turning onto your back, you quickly grabbed Mike's wrist, stopping him from leaving.

Mike sat on the bed, huffing as he looked down at you with a small smile, "Babe... I have to get ready for work."

You pouted, tugging lightly on his hand, "I want a real good morning kiss."

He chuckled lightly, “It’s not technically the morning, but okay,” Reaching over and placing his hand against the bed on the other side of your head, leaning over you, he pressed his lips to yours. You returned the affection with just as much vigor, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He kissed you deeply, passionately, before slowly pulling away. "There..." He muttered, looking at you, and giving you another quick peck before moving off the bed and walking into the bathroom. "That should hold you over for the next couple of hours." He joked, making you huff and roll your eyes.

Shutting your eyes, you decided to go back to sleep. Right as you were about to drift off into dreamland once more, you felt Mike place a lingering kiss on your cheek before you felt the blanket being pulled over you, tucked under your chin.

~~~

As the scent of hot chocolate filled the air, you sat at the kitchen table, sipping your cup; listening to the music that was softly playing on the radio. You hummed along to the song, occasionally biting into the leftover cake from a few days ago. It had been a year since you and Mike Schmidt started dating, and life seemed perfect. You adored Mike's little sister, Abby, who always brightened up your day with her infectious laughter and endless curiosity. She reminded you of yourself in those early years.

Though, at the moment, life was becoming a bit... Stressful, and odd to say the least. Mike had recently landed a job as the security guard at Freddy Fazbear's, a popular family restaurant known for its animatronic characters and family fun games. At first, you were excited for him, but a sense of worry settled in your heart. And when the policewoman, Vanessa came to your door, asking for Mike. Their hushed words, whispers, and their little walk only fueled your worries. You knew that Mike would never cheat on you, so you weren't worried about that. You were just worried about him, and Abby, in general.

One evening, as you and Mike were cuddling on the couch, the TV playing some movie you both were hardly paying attention to; he sensed your unease. "Hey, what's bothering you, babe?" He asked, his voice filled with concern, his hand coming up to brush your hair from your face.

You bit your lip, hesitant to voice your fears. "I- I don't know, Mike. It's just that Freddy Fazbear gives me the creeps. I worry about you working there, especially with Abby coming with you."

Mike embraced you warmly, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I understand, honey," He spoke, watching as he hesitated before speaking, "You have nothing to worry about. You know I'd do anything to make sure Abby is safe."

You pursed your lips, your eyes staring into his brown ones as you bite back telling him that you knew he was lying. He was a terrible liar, and you knew for sure that he was hiding something. Letting out a sigh, you let a smile crawl on your face, nodding, and turning back to the TV. "Alright."

Seeing that you seemed to believe him, Mike turned back to the TV, his smile faltering as he pulled you closer to his side, and let out a small shaky breath.

"But, Clara! The baby isn't mine!"

~~~

One evening, unable to bear it any longer, you decided to go to his work. Having left your own home a couple of blocks from his, you noticed his car gone, so you knew that he had left for work then with Abby. You were able to babysit the young girl, but you also understood that she really wanted to spend more time with her older brother, and she really wanted to go to the restaurant to explore. You made your way to the restaurant, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. Pulling up to the restaurant, you sat in the car noticing Mike's car and a police car parked outside. Clearing your throat, you hopped out of your car and shut the door, walking up to the double doors.

As you entered the terribly lit building, you stalked the halls, feeling an eerie feeling of someone watching you; along with hearing voices coming from another room somewhere around the corner; you couldn’t understand what they were all saying. Only when you entered the main room, did you freeze, seeing a man in an old yellow rabbit suit kick Mike right in the head. Your eyes widened in fear.

A wave of terror washed over you as you realized Abby was trapped somewhere in this nightmare. With the courage you didn't know you even possessed, tried to move closer. The animatronics, once friendly and lovable, were now twisted, mind-controlled ghouls hell-bent on destroying everything in their path.

As you made your way deeper into the building. The love you had for Mike and Abby fueled your determination to rescue them from this living nightmare. As the man was distracted by Vanessa, you rushed over to Mike, who you found, battered and bruised. Tears streamed down your face as you took in his broken form.

"M- Mike," You choked out, your voice trembling. "Where's Abby?"

Mike's eyes met yours, blinking slowly as his battered form curled on the floor, blood dripping from his bottom lip and a small gash on his temple. He blinked and looked at you sluggishly, opening his mouth to answer, only for the girl in question to run up to the two of you. Her cries broke your heart, shattered it, as you tried to stop the bleeding in multiple places on his body with ripped pieces of your cotton shirt.

Your mind seemed to cloud, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, chilling your blood as everything happened all around you. One minute, you were trying to soothe and help Mike, and the next, you watched in awe, shock, and horror as the four animatronics dragged a dying William Afton to his final resting place. The restaurant was beginning to crumble, falling as the hold Afton had on the place began to fall apart. 

In the blink of an eye, your body moved for you, helping Mike up, his arm looping over your shoulder as you, him, and Abby helped a dying Vanessa up off the floor. Exiting the restaurant, you finally let out a huge breath, finally being able to breathe. The night air hits your face, clearing the fog in your head, and allowing clarity to return. 

You didn't remember much, you remember driving to the hospital, Vanessa laying in the back seat with Abby, Mike groaning in pain next to you. Once you entered the hospital, they took Vanessa for her stab wound, Abby for some minor cuts and bruises, and Mike for the cuts and his other wounds, leaving you alone to fill out whatever paperwork, and to sit alone in the waiting room. 

Finally, after over an hour, you were able to see Mike in his room, where Abby was already waiting. Immediately as you entered, you saw bandages wrapped around his arms, legs, and so on; in a blue hospital gown. Abby sat on an armchair, already passed out, a hospital notepad and pen lying on the bedside table beside her; she had already drawn on it. 

You sighed, shutting the door behind you as you walked over to the other chair by the bed, pulling it closer to Mike, you sat down. Taking his uninjured hand in yours, you sighed. "Mike." You whispered softly, "As I live and breathe, you’re never going to work somewhere cursed ever again." Your hands shook, as you felt your voice catch in your throat.

With a weak smile, Mike's hand tightened around yours, making you look up at him with wide teary eyes. "Hey, honey," He muttered softly, his voice sore as you quickly grabbed the water beside you, helping him take careful sips. 

Placing the cup back down, you let out a sigh, "Hi, Mikey." You took his hand once more, "Are you feeling alright?"

Smiling again, Mike gave your hand a tight squeeze, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all." His eyes drooped, "Why were you there?" 

"I was worried about you." You began, looking over at Abby briefly before looking back over at Mike, "I don't want to talk about this right now while you are injured and healing. So, when you're better, we'll talk - not in a bad way, I’m not going to leave you or anything because of this."

Mike nodded, letting out his own sigh, "I'm sorry... I didn't want you to worry. But I guess that didn't-"

Raising your other hand, you brushed the hair from his forehead, careful of the crisp white bandage. "Shush, you. No more talking. All you have to do now is rest."

Mike smiled faintly, nodding his head. Closing his eyes, he let out a small sigh before slowly falling back asleep. You smiled, leaning back on your chair for a moment, you got up, you grabbed the extra blanket that hung on the edge of Mike’s hospital bed. Walking over to Abby, you ruffled out the blanket before laying it over the young girl, making sure she was warm in the sort of chilly room. Sitting back into your chair, you leaned back again, trying to make yourself comfortable; you shut your eyes.

[megzscribbleznwordz]

can you do a master shake dating headcanons please :33333

I'm so surprised by how popular Shake is :0! I've had so much fun writing for him, he's such a fun character with a lot of personality! I hope you likeys <3

Master Shake

Of all the love languages, Shake focuses the most on physical touch, quality time spent, and acts of service. He reserves almost every act of service for his lover and nobody else, and he deeply values any time spent with them. Even if it’s just hanging around the house or watching TV

Both in an effort to compensate for his poor gift giving skills and to cover up his very strong motormouth 

Very good at remembering dates that are important to his lover. Remembers their anniversary, their birthday, their favorite holiday, remembers their parent/friend/sibling’s birthday if they’d want him too

He’s the type to try and write and sing a song for his partner. It’s mentioned in the first movie that he can both sing and play guitar so please just imagine him trying to concentrate on writing down words/notes and strumming out chords

Loves when his partner cups his cheeks when they kiss him. Definitely the type of thing to make him so terribly weak in the knees

Shows off his lover to everyone in town, everyone he knows is aware of the fact he’s in a relationship. Carl knows, the Mooninites know, the Plutonians know, hell even Markula knows and Shake hates that guy!

I headcanon that Shake l o v e s music so another common date for him is to bring his significant other to concerts, if they’re down for it. He’s pretty flexible, and is down to both plan concerts he’d like and look into the bands they like. Spoils them by buying them concert merch <3

[punk-in-docs]

🕷️ Vanilla Tobacco 🕷️

Eddie Munson x Reader

10.9k words

Summary: Based on one of my favourite Eloise songs- this pure mush but please believe me on the life of my dog, the next piece to follow this with smut is coming in so fast I may get whiplash- watch out- also

Thank-youuuu all of you for being such angels and commenting on my stuff all the time it’s honestly amazing. I know I’m a lazy bum and I need to reply to your astounding comments. But pls know I do see each one and it’s just what makes this all so worthwhile to see how much you all love Eddie X Pencils.

Your morning had been hell on wheels.

You slept through your alarm. Stubbed your toe stumbling out of bed in your rush to get dressed. Burnt your tongue on your too hot coffee. Ended up being late for home room. And now you’ve been lumped with an art essay. Perfect.

Self directed. Six thousand words on a particular art movement of your choice. Which somehow made it even harder to pick-

It’s pokey glass shards stabbing into the already festering wound in your side that was your day.

This would mean you’d be surrendering your lunchtime to this honey of a new project which was due in a week. If you got the books and notes gathered for it now, it would be a great help and a load off further down the line.

You trudge out of class, and back down to the hallway to your locker, with an armful of textbooks and sketchbook. A free period now that you’d spend the entirety of in the library.

In the absence of a certain jingly jacketed, metal head, the music you’ve got blasting through walkman headphones right now, is the only soothing thing that’s helping your scratchy mood stay buoyant.

Well. That and one other salient thing-

You can’t help but draw your thoughts back to yours and Eddie’s movie night. That memory certainly lifts and delights. Wraps up your stomach like being bound in sunny butter-yellow silk.

Being tangled up on Eddie’s terrible scratchy orange couch with wandering hands, seeking more, and so much making out it was like you were kissing each other’s lips raw. Seeing Eddie with those beautiful lips all bitten pink certainly tugged on your guts in the most horny way.

You devoured the pizza together, and he’d tasted like hoppy lite beer and salty pepperoni - licking the greasy cheese mess of it off the corner of your lips. Smiling with oily pizza grease fingers gripping your chin.

You’d laughed so much your ribs hurt. Prodded fun at the gore of his selected horror movies - awed by his taste too. Agreed on the worst and best parts of grainy black and white eerie tones of night of the living dead. The ham acting. The swelling suspense.

He’d grinned with the way you’d squirmed and jiggled and scrunched up your feet in unease at the bit in Nightmare on Elm Street. When Tina grabs Freddy’s face and the whole thing slips into her hand in a bloody rubbery landslide, revealing raw teeth and bulging eyes, scarlet black chasm of a nose.

I love this movie. But I freakin’ hate that bit.

Eddie curls around you tighter. Beaming. Chuckling dryly. Ringed fingers splaying over your hip. Nose nestled in the back of your neck.

Squeamish much, pencils?

Shut up

You both watch as Tina cups at the four claw marks in her stomach as she’s tumbled around the bed and jerked up to the ceiling. Crawling sticky blood up the flowery walls.

You hide again with an ‘Ick.’ Which prompts you to twist around and face him. You don’t do well with blood.

He very kindly lets you shield your eyes behind his hand. Rings warm on your skin.

Freddy’ll have to get through me first. Don’t you worry.

I’ll never let you sleep again, Munson. I will blast the loudest Motörhead in your ears. Okay?

Okay sweets. He winked.

You’d flown into swooning bits at the recollection of how you’d spent a great deal of time on that date, horizontal with Eddie’s warm nose buried deep in your neck. Or his tongue in your mouth. Spit wet lips, hoppy beer breath, and grinding hormones.

Later, much later, after two beers, his teeth and lips were plucking hickie’s at your collarbones and under your jaw. Mainly to distract you from Wes Cravens gore. But, funny how even when the movie ended, neither of you seemed to notice.

Too busy scrunching your hands in his messy hair and kissing him back hungrily. His hands smoothing up your back. Your legs curled open over the cradle of his skinny hips. Grinding into the clutch of yours. His hands were blazing hot on your ass where your skirt was rucked up. Fingertips slipping just-so, under the edge of your panties.

Whenever you hummed or moaned it made him smile. Made his hips jerk to yours. You were grinding on each other like this world would end soon. Entirely composed of rutting feel-good hormones for each other.

He pulled back because he was definitely popping a boner in those skinny jeans and you can’t lie either - you’re wet - you’re both very flimsy underwear barriers away from doing some very x-rated things.

He begs you that he doesn’t wanna be cumming in his pants like a ninth grader. You can’t deny with his hips grinding you like that it wouldn’t take much for your orgasm either. But, you both agreed, that for now, you’d keep it to second base.

All bets are off next time though, Pencils.

Deal. You grin back.

He sighed happily, blushed as a matter of fact, as you nudged a kiss under his ear.

You made out and ate and cracked jokes and chatted for what felt like hours. You tired the moon with your talking - and kissing. So much sparky hot kissing it stunned your lips numb.

You’d never get enough of the taste of Eddie. Smoke and beers on his tongue. Fake snap of chemical apple from his shampoo. Some distant lingering cedar and vanilla cologne that was definitely Wayne’s and had definitely been put on to impress you-

Hewalked you out to your car when time came for you to go. Leaving felt like a ripping pain. Like tearing layers of skin away. You kissed for ten minutes before you even managed to fumble blindly behind you for the door. He kissed you up against the door. Next to the door. All over you with your hands sunk and lost in his hair.

Don’t go I’m not done yet. As he cupped your face and waddled you up against the door - again.

Traffics bad this time of night, Pencils. Give it five if I were you.

I’ve heard a really bad storm is closing in.

Every time you levered apart, he was spinning you back with “Okay but how about one more, y’know, for the road…”

Then proceeded to melt you into another thought-stealing kiss.

Made you laugh into it when he palmed your car keys right out your hand whilst you were distracted by his tongue. And fully launched them over his shoulder.

They landed with a jingly thump over his shoulder on the malt brown carpet. He wrapped his arms around your waist even tighter. Muffled your protests onto the silky bed of his tongue. You moaned and curled your arms around him again.

Thinking of Eddie was definitely one part of your day that didn’t suck. That didn’t scrape rock bottom. It actually lifted you off your dragging heels a bit. Laced a spring in your step that you were careful not to let creep out too much around others.

You lose yourself to that, and into the jagged punk carnality, and let it be known Billy Idol’s sneering roar of a voice was a balm to you.

What didn’t help was that when you came to your locker, Linda was stood against it with the nuclear warhead of a mega-bitch that was Carol P.

They’re gaggled close and smirking about something. There should be a cauldron between them for the amount of shit-stirring and poison slinging they do. You’re thankful you can’t hear it. You turn up Rebel Yell just that tad louder.

Carol was the worst when it came to high school hierarchy. Not only an asshole but determined to drag that festering quality out of everything she touches. Withers the people she considers below her like dead leaves. Thought because she was giving blowjobs under the bleachers, and playing spin the bottle since seventh grade, that it somehow made her the epitome of cool.

You think that much like Linda, its just wearing a mask to cover over the craggy potholes and ultimate shallowness of their personality. They turn into mean, bullying people. Dog eat dog world of high school. Eat or be eaten and these are the pedigree girls with shiny hair, sharp teeth and bitchy smiles.

Really they’re just entirely composed of vanity and rot. Shallowness and arrogance entwined.

Linda barely acknowledges your emergence, as you open your locker and swap out an armful your books for the ones in your hands from an earlier class. You kept your headphones on, muffled the world away to rock music.

A hand shoots over your shoulder and annoyingly jerks on your headphones. Tugging them down the back of your head with a clatter. Making your heart flash fast at the jump of it.

You turn with a glare and see Tommy. H jaunt up to his girlfriend. Giving you a stupid grin. Sneering words back at you. “S’up, Pencil neck.”

Pencil Neck. Mother Mary. Those were some of the ingenious little pet names they had picked out for you.

Because you haven’t had sex and you aim for good grades, apparently this makes you worthy of freakdom in their rabid eyes.

Linda purses her lips a little. Smiles like it’s funny, them calling you that.

Carol barks out her shitty grating laughter. Tilts her head at you and those loose Farah Fawcett auburn curls dance around her snarky face. Popping neon pink gum and looking sly.

Tommy loops his arm around her neck. They stand and eye you like you’re something amusing. Freak show in town. Roll up for tickets.

“Original.” You bite back as you reach for your books.

“Ooh.” Tommy chirps at you. “Not in a friendly mood, are we.”

“My tolerance for vitriolic jackasses is limited.” You narrow your eyes at the pair of them.

You detest the way Carol scans you up and down. Judging your hand me down plaid, jeans and sneakers like you got them from a yard sale. Thinking you’re cheap trash, with a trampy single mom.

Just cause her manicured and caustic mother was the sales rep for a big cosmetic company, and she lives on the gleaming streets of Loch Nora, that it made her perfectly able to peer down her nose at the lower echelons.

She pops her gum with a snap looking at you. Then doesn’t even deign to pay you any attention. Looks towards Linda. A decided bitchy ally.

“You’re coming to the house party at Josh’s tonight, right, Martelli?” She grins as she chews loudly. Wet gummy clicks that get on your nerves. Raking an annoying knife up your spine.

You turn to your locker and ignore the bunch of cognoscenti assholes. You were ashamed to say that included your once fond friend among them.

“Sure I’ll be there.” Linda shrugs like it isn’t a golden gilded invitation handed over, direct from the Queen Bee herself.

“You’re gonna bring Jonny right?” Carol leers. Smile filthy. Like she wants to be the one sucking face with him, as opposed to her own boyfriend currently slung off her shoulder.

“If he can sneak out. His dads being a real dick at the moment.” Linda tells with a glum pouty tone.

“Sneak him out. It’ll be so fun. We got tonnes of beer. There’s bound to be some wet n’ wild fun in the pool.” She grinned all bright and naughty. Sticking her tongue out.

House party on a Tuesday night. These dicks really had nothing better to do than suck face, trash the place, or hump. Make a mess like silver back gorillas parading around in the zoo in their natural habitat.

Tommy decided to drag you back into this razor blade and lemon juice studded conversation. Oh joys.

“Probably not Pencil neck’s kinda evening.” He pouts sticking his lower lip out.

“She’s gotta be back in her convent by 9. Wimple on. Back home with her trampy mom like a good little girl.” Carol mocks in laughing. It’s shrill. Brings to mind a hyena.

Somewhere along the line, the fact your mom was mostly absent and single had become the butt of a joke to these people. Because you don’t live on Maple Street or dress like a Pat Benatar wannabe. You defend your ground in your paint spattered clothes, tatty jeans, and oversized hand-me-down plaid from Charlie, and tees from the goodwill.

It stung like acid each time they swiped and spit nasty words aimed at your mom. Needles pushed under your skin when they sniped their mockery.

You rose above it and grit your teeth. Even though it made you want to start swinging clenched fists. Real tempting to shove the wrong end of your paintbrush in carols stupid eye some days. Splat paint on her expensive jacket or jeans. Knock the books out her hands for once. The dream.

Tommy chuckles along. Carol loves pushing your buttons. It’s her defining character trait. Slamming down on them til they crack into spiderwebs like broken porcelain. It’s all she does best.

“I’m amazed you manage to walk like that what with your head being all the way up your ass.” You slam your locker and turn to talk to a very silent Linda.

“See you after third.” You offer blithely. She barely meets your eyes. Doesn’t answer. She shrinks down. Dumbly clings to her own silent cowardice. Shoves her hands in her pockets and looks at a scuff on her shiny white cavalier boots.

“Got bible studies?” Tommy jumps in quick to say.

You roll your eyes over, let his comment go unmatched. You didn’t have the energy for these two.

You heft your books into your arms and walk away. You hear their laughter and more snideness rips it’s razors at your back as you leave. More insults you don’t care to listen too.

You blast more Billy to blot them out. Forget about their stupidity as you head to the library. You hate the way they slide under your skin like it’s nothing.

You push through the doors and pad through the winding warren of the shelves. Thick carpet tiles muffled your steps. The overly harsh lighting almost buzzed above you. Students hunched hushed over tables, or scanning the stacks. A low thrum of noise and activity compared to the teaming hallways.

It’s a soothe for you. A harbour for you to switch your brain into a slow gear, push it into focusing on something else.

You find a table and set out your books and sketchbooks. Loop your bag on the back of the chair and get scouring through the arts section. You find a stack and pile it against your chest. Take them to your table and hunch over a legal pad. Madly brainstorming ideas for what you wanted to pick.

You settle and let the onslaught of your morning grow quiet. Meld as one into pages and passages. Art Nouveau with its goddesses, natural flowing forms and it’s mimicry of flowers under arched curves. The limpid neon minimalism of Dan Flavin and his light installations. Hockney and his searing blue pool paintings.

There’s so many influences crashing through your head. You skip from book to book. Unable to decide. Tapping the end of your pen against your chin. Raking hands through your lose hair.

You’re curled over a punk art book, looking at the ripped Jamie Reid images, jagged text and rude political satire sprayed and bastardised with paint drips, when something soft hits you on the side of your head, grazing by, and skittering down to your desk. Bouncing off your hand.

You twist back in your seat. Bewildered. Scanning the stacks and there’s nothing save for the usual soft footed librarians drifting around, with their glasses chains, sensible skirts, and hushed voices. The same few quiet kids sat at their tables, dotted around. Unmoved.

You frown and turn back around to the crumpled paper. You smooth it out and make out the chicken scratched words etched there. It was a note.

A love note. Etched in Violet sharpie. It sets a blaze in your chest.

Hey sweet cheeks. You look hot hitting the books. Making me jealous that they’ve got your undivided attention.

Signed it with an E with little sprouting devil horns coming off the top - as if he really needed to identify himself.

You smile when you suddenly feel the tickle of long dry hair feathering it’s tips at the back of your neck. Ringed hands drape for your shoulders. Cold rings even through your worn flannel. Smoke comes with him. Fresh too. He’d just had a cig break you’d guess. Reds curled new on cold leather and carried along with apple.

How was it the worlds nosiest metal-head with his jangly wallet chain and apparently limitless racket, could sneak up on you in absolute silence.

Materialising out of nowhere, like a suddenly gathering storm. Subtle as an earthquake. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Inhaled deep like he was trying to drag you in via his mouth alone.

“There’s my little bookworm.” He hushes. Voice all trying-to-be-low and hissing. Rumbling down on your skull. Nuzzling his nose to your hair. Coconut. That Amber and Lavender perfume of yours. Clean luminosity of honeyed notes, and the plain spice of hearty lavender that drifts off you.

It’s dizzying. Consuming. He’s missed it the way a man could miss food and water.

“You threw paper at my head.” You faked mild insult.

Eddie leans up on his sneaker tip toes to peer over your head and catch onto the book that has you so engrossed.

“You looked very invested. How else was I supposed to get your attention.” Comes a clever curl of a grin.

It makes little flecks of gold stars shine and shimmer in those inky eyes.

His hand that landed heavy with a whump on your shoulder, curled up a knuckle and played with an idle curl of your hair. Cool fingers leaving sparks where he touched the nape of your neck.

“What are you doing in here, anyway? You know this is a library don’t you.” You tease him. Rotating in your seat. Gazing up at him. “Books. Studying.”

“Mistook it for something else. Won’t make that error twice.” He tells with that signature clever grin.

“Although it does have you in here, so I automatically like it very much, indeed.” He preens.

Your smile makes his spine slope into fuzziness and tingle all warm. Where his hand is on your shoulder, you edge and curl your fingers over his own. Lacing them through.

He wasn’t gonna be a complete letch and admire the way the twist of your body gaped the buttons of that oversized green and navy plaid you wore. Teased him with the silky valley of skin running downwards from your collarbones. Sternum. Bra. Tits. Your tits.

Okay he wasn’t gonna look, but he’s certainly thinking about it.

Those sweet slips of collarbones he’d been sucking and mouthing for eons long just the other night and was that-

That’s a hickie on your neck. From him.

His stomach trips and crashes into feral frenzy knowing he’s the one to have placed it there, in a rabid fit of horny hormones. Horizontal on his couch with hands all stuffed in tops or jeans, roaming in places that felt so so good.

Tongues fat with kissing and mouths smashing together, raw. Charred bodies grinding. Your fingers edging his stiff jeans zipper. His squeezing your tits through your top. Delightful touches that burned bliss through you like biting electric bolts. The muggy heat of breath on lips.

“That big beautiful brain of yours at capacity yet?” He asks. Swaying into the back of your creaking hard chair.

“I’ve yet to hear a pinging noise indicating it’s full.” You decided. Tapping your pencil down on your book.

“Can my bookworm take a break?” Eddie asks with a conspiratorial looking grin. You tip your head back and meet his gaze.

That ‘my’ warms your belly right though like bad cheap whiskey.

“Why would that be?” You ask cheekily. All lowering your lashes and peering all coquettish.

“Cause if you’re not at capacity yet. I think there’s a little more to learn.” He teases and his smile is all dirty dimples and schoolboy cheek.

He whirls back from your chair and pauses at the walkway between two bookcases. It hooks a smile right out of you when you watch him jerk his head in that particular, enclosed, direction.

Your smile grows, crawls across your lips and you keep your butt planted in your seat. “Gee. I don’t think I know what you’re getting at.”

“Need me to spell it out for you?” He asks with narrowed eyes and a wide wide grin.

You lean in said chair and cast your eyes towards the librarians. Who coincidentally have their backs turned to you. One at the desk, the other helping a freshman locate a physics book.

“I don’t know. Maybe if you could find it in book form and read it to me.” You rile. Poking him with a stick.

“Sure. Where’s that Biology section at.” He leans in and bites his lower lip and grips your sleeve. He doesn’t grip your skin with his rings. Worried they’d dig. Even when riled he’s still gentle.

Scrunching up his nose all silly as he’s yanking you out the chair. You laugh softly as you swing off the thing and slink after him.

You both pad silently down the row of bookcases. Eddie tugs you along to the end. Nestled into the crook with paper spines and a shelf digging in your back. The touch on your sleeve travels up your arm, he’s holding your forearm and then impressively smooth, he’s cupping your hip. Slings a finger in your jean belt loop - keeping you tethered to him.

“You going to reinforce a lesson for me. Munson?” You ask.

You rest your hands on his t-shirt. The almost threadbare black sabbath one that you could barely read the scratchy logo on it anymore. It’s almost flaked away. All that’s left is this beaten old black tee that hangs softly in creases off him.

“Yup.” And he pops the P. Staring at your lips. Thumb rubbing soothing circles on your worn plaid stomach. Soft aged flannel. “Gonna reinforce my brains out.” He decides.

“They say repetition is the best way to learn.” He adds. Flirty brow raised. Body flush to yours. Wrapping you in leather smoke and apples.

“And please don’t go hurting yourself on my account. I won’t allow it.” You say as you smooth a hand over the crazy hair beside his jaw. Stroking your fingers under that handsome cut of a jawbone.

You feel his nearness like a gut punch. Every damn time. Has you squirming in every single good way you can muster. This crush blazes so fiery strong. It’s swallowed you whole whilst you weren’t looking. You were too busy watching him smile.

You tip to him. Tilt to him. Up on your toes. Arms going for his neck. Circling around as his hands smooth across your belt loops and cup your hips. He rolls your bottom lip between his. Sucks you into this sloppy kiss as his hands cup you sacredly.

The moment you’ve both been longing for.

You’d never grow tired of kisses like these ones. It left a chasm when you pulled away from his lips on your date. And now again, finally, it’s like a cool clear sip of spring blue water after years of thirst.

Eddie nibbles your lower lip and it draws an unexpected squeak out of you. Plush and tongue and molten. He pulls back and his spit shiny smile liquifies your insides. Warm air puffs over your lips. “Careful pencils. Gotta keep it on the down low in here.”

You half heartedly whack at his chest with an open hand.

He sways with it. Sways into you. Barely noticed your nudge. He catches it with his own fingers, twining into yours. Through yours. Knuckles slot together. Fused. Your hand in his. He brings it up and rests your hand on his neck.

Drunk hazy eyes cast all whiskey puddle brown in yours. Soft as butter and he melts into you again. Nose brushing alongside yours. You taste like the fruity sour bite of chapstick and he’ll definitely chase some more of that fake nectar sweetness, thank you very much.

“How can I be expected to keep quiet when you kiss me like that?” You ask. Tilting in again, legs knocking into his as you press your lips to his in a slow smooch. Long, languid. Taking the kiss off his slanted mouth, honey smooth.

Your hand follows his lead. You cup his soft neck. Thumb brushing the join of his jaw. His hands rearrange themselves. Wandering to settle neatly. One bunching an arm around your waist. The other cups your head. Tilts your mouth to him so he can take and take and unleash on you more of these amazing, demanding kisses.

You should be caring how loud your making out is. Sloppy mouth sounds and little grunts he makes mixed with the thrill of your moans. It rises just a little above the din of the buzzing lights and the swipe of book pages being leafed over.

When you part again you gasp for breath and your knees are stunned into weakness. Your bodies are so close it’s pretty damn evident that soon you’ll be making noises you cannot hide in the whisper quiet library.

It didn’t help that the swelling hunger for more is prodding between your legs. As urgently as his own must be in those tight jeans. Every kiss is laced with a hunger that could proceed sex if you let it.

You really want to let it. You’re so ready to let it.

You exhale onto each other lips when you next part and take a huge pull of breath. Warm whispers sealed to mouths. Bodies tangled. Sure a book was jamming your spine, and the shelf behind you was not exactly sturdy. It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered that wasn’t Eddie’s kiss bruised mouth aligned on yours.

“We should probably have another one of those date things soon. Don’t you think?” You ask. Fingers sneaking to his cheek to just touch his skin. A little stubbled.

“You reckon?” He smiles all slanted. Eyes twin honeycomb suns. You stare, stuck into them.

You’ve never seen such warmth leak out those expressively deep carob-eyes. You look at the entirely too long flick of his lashes: the raw pinkness of his cushiony lips. Entirely unfair how he was so pretty. It should be outlawed for a boy to look this pretty when kissed.

Really it was a danger to your health. Your school work would certainly suffer. Your essay sat screeching to be started from your desk.

“I really reckon.” You nod. Eddie swoops in and smooched a boyish charming peck onto your mouth almost in thanks. Pulls back from you with a wet smack.

“If you didn’t say it, I was gonna have to insist.” He teases. Stretches out the last word to almost a hiss so you know he means business.

You bite your lip. “Ok Mr. forceful. What did you have in mind?” You smile. Leaving your arms around his neck. To not touch him would be a stinging agony.

“Anything. So long as we can do this for a good 95 - 98% of the evening. I’m willing to negotiate on the exact percentage.” He asks. “But I would ask you wear that chapstick again.” He requests, no holds barred on the flirt, nudges his lips sweetly to yours.

The flick of his tongue on your lower lip makes your brain twirl and cloud. So naughty.

You kiss him quick. Yank his jacket. Pull back to speak which he pouts at you a little for.

“We could go see a Movie. Go to the arcade. Get ice cream. Go to the old quarry and 420 blaze it, and stargaze. The options are endless.” You say as your fingers find his and twist through. Knuckles stroking those worn metal rings.

“Arcade sounds good. Ice cream is a must.” He says, a little reticent. No one has ever asked him on a date. Much less delved into what he actually wanted to do on said date.

“Arcade and Ice cream it is.” You fix with a grin. “You’re easy to please.”

“Yeah but when it comes to ice cream toppings I’m very picky.” He sneaks forwards and kisses under your jaw.

You have to bite your lip cause he knows how it weakens you. Your gasp from the other night when he slipped his lips all over your jaw is etched interminably in his brain. His tongue traces a hickie he knows only all too well how it got there.

The tip of his nose brushes into anther hickie he’s just given to you. Devil boy. He knows very well what effect it has.

“Whipped cream, Cherries. Lots of cherries, sprinkles. The works.” He whispers all muggy hot into your neck.

“Gotta have cherries. Pencils.” He rasps inbetween heavy plucked kisses on your skin.

You shiver all over with the innuendo. He feels it ripple through you. The way your skin pimples with pleasure that pops, stringing along your veins.

You dig your nails into his hands cause holy shit. Every time you kiss you creep closer and closer to the idea of just slipping your hand inside those ripped jeans and going to town- that barrier of your willpower is being worn paper thin with every caress.

“All the cherries you want, pretty boy. Maybe afterwards we could take a, uh, scenic route up to skull rock and be fools, fooling around.” You smile.

It’s dizzying to him. That idea. Better than Colombia gold spreading all vibrant verdant green and dozy through his lungs.

“I’ll bring the jester hat, Mi’lady.” He flat out grins. It’s borderline Munson manic.

“Perfect evening.” You summarise. Shaking your head and eyeing his lips again.

“Perfect date.” He adds on. Biting his lower lip.

“My god. We’re corny. Even meatloaf would refuse to write a mushy ballad about us right now.” You joke. Hands still looped around his neck. Like hell would you wanna let go.

“Need some help with that essay?” He offers. Closing in for your mouth again.

“Mmhmm need all the help I can get.” You whisper. Barely a brush away from his gorgeous lips.

He kisses you again and it’s stunning. Births a wild jungle of fiery mush and kicked butterflies to rioting life in your belly.

“I promise to be such a huge help. You may not even need those books babe. Don’t you know I’m so brainy it’s unreal.” He wheedles at you.

“I never doubted your big beautiful mind even for a second.” You admit. Holding his chin as you lean in and kiss him solidly once more. Coaxing a lovely sounding whine from the back of his mouth when your tongue swipes his lip.

You drag him back out into the open. He goes - somewhat willingly.

Slips himself into the chair beside yours. Hands splayed over your books as he twirls a pen in his hand as asks you probing and philosophical musings about art.

Cubism. I’m sorry. C’mon? Those guys must’ve been on seriously good pills, man.

How about Constructivism then? You ask.

Gesundheit, pencils.

He scrawls some more devils and live hearts with your name, and leafs through another thick old book. The yellowed pages crack with age.

I got a new twisted sister tape. You should hear it.

I like watching you study. It’s freakin hot. You’re so brainy.

Hey, this chicks kinda neat. She looks like a character from Lord of the Rings or somethin’. He decided as he pawed over an Alphonse Mucha picture.

My favourite too. I love the way he uses colour. It’s dreamy.

You’re dreamy.

He laughs when you bite your lip and look bashful.

He will not stop shooting you a flirty smile as he doodles idly on your legal pad. Swirls big loopy letters of ‘I Love Eddie.’ And ‘Hellfire rulez’ and lots of demon faces, and skulls with horns. Lightning bolts and leathery bats.

His restless hands cannot be stilled. He steals a scrunchie from your bag, and it sits looped on his wrist next to his chain bracelet. Lilac borders leather. He makes no intention of giving it back. Magpie manners.

You make a face at him, asking how you’re supposed to tie your hair up for still life class after school.

“I like it loose and wild.” He says as he skims his eyes over your hair. Thumbs a piece back by your ear so sweetly.

You crook a brow. Smile tips lopsided.

He seems to realise that what he said can be taken an alternative way. “Well, no I uh, didn’t mean it like that.”

Your laugh spins his head into adoring craziness.

“Alright. Alright.” He consoles you by picking a W.A.S.P pin out his denim vest and leaning over to stud it into the collar of your plaid. Tongue bitten between his teeth as he concentrates. Fingers brushing your neck. Skin on skin contact leaving kicks and flutters that shoot stars in his wake.

You look down at it. The shiny metal gleaming in the buzzing light. “Okay, that is a worthy consolation.” You offer.

He makes you smile until your cheeks hurt, and you spend more time leaning into him and trying not to laugh too loud over discussing movies, favourite arcade games and music, than you do actually choosing your essay topic.

When the bell rings for next period you actually detest the thought of scurrying away to your Math class. Yet, Equations and trig beckoned.

Eddie walks you out the library. Opens the door all charming, waves a hand to gesture you on through first, like a true gentleman. You thank him and glide past with your books clutched to your chest.

The hallways are bustling but emptying fast. You twist back and tell him you’ll catch him later. Maybe at lunch.

He smiles that wide trouble-stroked grin. Clutched your hand and leaned down all showy to kiss the back of it and shoot you a dirty flirty wink, before he too whirled away.

You smile and it lingers on your lips even as you part. The press of it makes your whole arm come alive. You watch him for a scant moment before walking off down the corridor the opposite way.

You both look back over your shoulders after about five meagre steps away. Eddie gives you a melting grin, you return it. All eyelashes and beaming.

That grin said a lot. Dead giveaway. The hand kiss. The lingering and swirly body movements, not ever wanting to pull apart. Spoke volumes to those who bothered enough to really look and see it.

The feminine flash of a lilac scrunchie on Munson’s wrist. The telltale purple splotches of hickies hiding just below your collar. The heavy metal pin punched through your collar all shiny. Winking like a far off star.

Far enough down the hall that neither of you paid any notice, Jonny Lopez shut his cloud-grey locker door and leaned against it. Lake blue eyes swam cold. Watching the Freak practically skip away.

He saw him kiss your hand. Saw him pull you close by the corner of your plaid, reeling you in, and all warm smiles backed in flirting familiarity. Watched you beam back, and linger to chat a moment. Your hand laid on leather lapel, brushing at his chest.

It didn’t add up. It’s coming out odd to him. You and the Freak? Close? Since when?

He frowned and tugged his backpack on his shoulder.

Strange sight, that.

~

“Okay. Please please please for the love of god and on all things holy, don’t get weird.” You call out to your mom as you trudge down the stairs.

Not yet coming to the bottom but you could hear her rifling around in the fridge. Billy Joel’s Anthony’s song clunking out it’s piano notes from the stereo in the kitchen that she always has on when she makes dinner

Which is a strong term for when she just scrounges and grazes stuff out of there like a jackal. When she’s so dragged by jet-lag, she only has the energy to slam some pop-tarts in the toaster and throw back a beer for an evening meal.

She was most definitely not a baked ziti or a casserole mom. She overcooks tater tots, or survived on boxed mashed potatoes and a can of limp greens with some breaded frozen chicken.

More than once she’s resorted to a bag of chips for her dinner. Now you know how she stays so trim. And it’s true what she says about your older sister Charlie being the cook in the family, cause that trait had seemed to have skipped you and her, altogether.

After long haul flights like these, she’s usually all set to scarf a meal down in dribs and drabs and grab a beer, to fall asleep with, as her TV soaps blare on. More than once you’ve had to rush in and stub a Newport gold out her dead asleep hand. More than once she’s burned holes in the couch. Covered them up with a crocheted blanket.

Right now, she’s humming and tapping her toes as she eats cool whip out the tub with a spoon. Stood there in her indigo bootcut jeans and oversized cable knit sweater that slid off one shoulder. White and fluffy.

“Alright.” She calls back slowly. Digesting your words. “Colour me intrigued…” She turns the music right down for this. For whatever this was-

You round the kitchen doorway. And it becomes obvious.

Your wearing a dress, and the oversized box-back leather jacket that once upon a time, belonged to her. With rhinestones on the back that spelled out ‘rock n roll’ with a flaming skull underneath. You’d paired it with a red dress that clung and a nipping big white leather hoop belt stretched around your middle. Sneakers and white socks on your feet. Silver wet n wild on your eyelids. Liner and mascara. Your hair all fluffed and kinked

“You’ve joined a rock band? I want front row tickets. I like the jacket. Very Joan Jett.” She grins wide. The flash of that pearly perfect smile. No whiff of how it was hers that you’d poached for the evening.

“No.” You explain.

Her eyes pin you down. Widening under her shiny bangs.

“Intrigue.” As she lopsidedly and untidily stuffs more groceries into the fridge.

“Linda is dragging you to a… club? Or another trashy house party?” She asks.

“Wrong, again.”

“Ok, connect some dots for me cause I’m lost here.” She waves her hand at you as she unloaded tubs of ice cream into the freezer. Peanut butter chocolate chip.

“Don’t get weird.” You point a finger at her. She holds her hands up in surrender.

“Well, weird is my wheehouse kid. My basic operating system.”

“Mom.”

“So intense tonight.” She grumbles all chirpy.

“I actually have a date.“ You lay out.

She looks right at you as she lets the fridge door slam shut. Mouth gaping.

“A date?” She checks.

“Are you a parrot now, or what.” You tease.

“Look at you. Hiding your light under a bushel.” She beams. Hands on her hips.

“Boy or girl?” She asks, blinking.

“A boy. Mom.” You offer up. “But thank you for that.” You wave your hand at her.

“Hey. No judgement here babe. A date. My god.” She looks floored. Hand laying on her chest floored.

“Yes.” You respond. “Well. Actually to be honest, It’s kind of our second date. We had a movie night at his place last week.”

“Second date huh.” She waggles her brows at you like a dirty minded frat boy.

“Well, tell me how it goes. You can leave out all the gross- y’know.” Bringing her hand up to her face and making obscene wet kissing, slurping smacking noises. Cooing at you across the kitchen.

“You are four years old.” You narrow your eyes at her. She grins.

“Do you need me to feed you and put you to bed before I go?” You jest tiredly as you walk to the hall. Check your hair yet again in the mirror.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just be sticking my fingers in the electrical sockets and running with scissors here, totally unsupervised.” She jokes. Picking a rogue hair off the back of your jacket.

“Guess I’ll just have to sit on the couch and watch reruns of Golden Girls on my own. Eat sad Beefaroni and be a tragic spinster mom.”

“Do so quietly.” You wave off.

When you move to get your shoes: she follows. You have a shadow, apparently.

“So this booooyyy- honey tell me about the boy.“ She grins all giddy. Leaning against the door and swaying her body like a preeny high school girl.

Like she should be twiddling pigtails with a lollipop in her mouth. Candy saccharine sweet.

“Is he on the team?” She seeks. And then gasps. “Is he gonna give you his letterman jacket if you get cold?” She clasps her hands and her voice teeters all high and romantic-like.

“Yeah. Then he’s taking me and Rizzo to the sock hop in his Studebaker and then onto some racing for pinks.” You joke with her archly.

“My god. You got your penchant for dragging sarcasm from me.” She pointed out. Unhelpfully. Shoving you half heartedly in the shoulder for being smartly rude. Beer now in her other hand as she drapes herself against the kitchen doorway.

“Not a letterman then?” She scrunches up her nose. She knew well of your distastes.

“If he was I wouldn’t be touching him even with gloves on, and ten f oot pole.” You insist as you make sure you’ve got everything in your purse.

“Less Steff McKee, more Duckie. I got it.”

You smile at the way she’s phrased it. Whatever Eddie was he was definitely way more Duckie territory.

“So he’s not a jock, alright. That narrows it down. Is Duckie atleast cute? Or am I gonna have ugly grandchildren.” She asks.

“Mom.” You hiss with skated laughter as you fluff your hair in the mirror. She winced suddenly.

“It’s not Keith from the Arcade is it? Cause he’s always been sweet on you. You went in last time and I swear he was drooling over you in your Talking Heads tee.”

“It’s not Keith.” You answer nicely. You liked Keith, but he could be sleazy, and a catty kind of mean, and had a bigger chip on his shoulder than you when it came to the preps and jocks.

Plus he would literally date any girl with a pulse that breathed his way. Besides, he was way way deep into crushing on Nancy Wheeler territory.

You exhale into the mirror. Wondering if the sweet sheen of lipgloss was too much. If you should rethink these earrings. You’re a mess. It’s all whirling around a stubborn coil of packed nervousness in your stomach. A fever twist.

“What you kiddos getting up too? Something salacious? Gonna knock off a liquor store? Go to Wild biker parties with lots of vomiting and sex?”

“We’re going to the arcade and grabbing some junk food. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll have time to work a teen pregnancy or a vomit sex party into the mix.”

“Now see here, Mama didn’t raise no quitters.” She salutes towards you with her beer before she swigs back a sip. You know she can’t resist delving a little more into the nitty gritty details.

“What’s he like. Your Duckie. Blonde, tall, short, fat, thin, dark, athletic. Is he in the chess club? Is he trouble? Does he have a motorcycle or a criminal record?” She’s tapping your arm with the back of her hand as she keeps thinking of more things to ask you.

“All good if relentless questions.” You temper her rambles. “You may need to cool it with the Pretty in Pink references.” You chuckle.

“Spill spill.” She encourages.

“Less chess club, more DND club.” You tell her. Fiddling with the earrings. Definitely deciding to take them out. Untangling them from your hair.

She’s gets very excitable about that prospect. “Is he nerdy hot…” She gets close and rasps at you all low.

“Yes. The orthodontic headgear from his braces, combined with his pressed slacks, Mmmm, really gets me going.” You lie.

She smiles wider. You’re all snippy sarcasm and fluffing hair and you keep peering past her at the banana yellow cat clock with the wagging tail and rolling eyes in the kitchen.

“You’re nervous.” She hits the nail right on the head. Rubs your arm up and down. Cups your shoulder.

You let out a deep breath. “Correct.” You tell her.

You can’t lie to your mother. She’s a human lie detector when it comes to you. She’ll sniff it out of you like those bomb dogs at the airport. One whiff and she’s all over it.

“You must really like this mystery nerd Huh?” Shecomes over and strokes the hair spilling down the back of your neck.

You meet her gaze. You scrunch your nose with a kinda giddy smile you can’t hide bursts across your face. “I really do.”

“Why haven’t I heard anything about him you sneaky thing… you been holding out on me? I mean, I know my being out the country isn’t conducive to mother-daughter late night talk over a tub of ice cream… but-” She wonders. Idly playing with the bangs framing around your forehead. The soft yellow light from the cheap yellow flicks off the fine French manicure sleekly and pretty pink on her nails.

“Recent development. I haven’t been holding anything back from you. Promise. You’d root it out even if I did. Not to mention the guy turning up on the doorstep would be a big tip off.” You suppose.

“There is that.” She nods. Standing her beer down on the hallway table. Coming up behind you and idly rearranging your hair where you’d mussed it.

“Any pearls of wisdom I need to give you? Do you need the talk again of where babies come from.” She plays around.

Give her ten ways to say something serious and she’d still be clowning around.

That actually makes you laugh. You meet her solid gaze in the mirror. It’s so warm. It’s like sun skating on emeralds. The crinkled corners of the eyes that are entirely more hazel than yours.

You’d always thought she was the pretty exception. Pearly smile. Dazzling eyes. It didn’t help that Charlie got her stunning silky hair and piercing eye colour too. You got the frizz and the freckles and the big hips. The hair that more belonged on a wiry messy dog. That never laid nicely or did as it was told.

“Is my hair bad? I used too much product. It’s too frizzy. ” You wince as you ask her. Faffing with it still around your ears.

“No. Baby. It isn’t.” She tells you softly with a grin that’s circling somewhere proud and awed. She puts her hands on your shoulders.

Growing up she taught you that women didn’t need to be only pretty to get by. She’d remind you how you were stunning in your unique way and it was entirely up to you what way you made it.

When toxic high school mixed with the uncertain churning of puberty, she was there to reinforce the idea that you could be brainy, and take up space, and spit and shout, bare your teeth, and throw punches and be gritty, all that- be a fierce Amazonian of a woman. Be wonder woman. Be a sultry sizzling Marilyn. Be whomever you wanted-

“You gonna let me meet Duckie when he gets here?” She asks.

“Well, actually, I was gonna lock you in the attic.”

Her mouth gapes. Offended. “What, like I’m suddenly a Kennedy.”

“Tough choice when you’re a Kennedy. How do you even chose which one in the family to hide in the attic.” You ask dead serious.

She closes her eyes and exasperatedly makes a fist with one hand.

“Ok, kid, we’re veering off topic here. Can I meet him, please? C’mon I will only say two embarrassing things tops.” She grins. Holding her fingers up to signal the two things.

“Don’t explode all over him with questions. He’s nice.” You promise.

“Baby, he’s dating you. Of course he’s gonna be nice. I like to think I raised you with standards.”

“You did think I was dating a jock up until two minutes ago.” You level at her.

“Touché my sweet.” She holds a finger up and gives you an invisible tally mark.

“No interrogations either.” You add.

“I’ll put my interrogation lamp away. And no explosions. Promise. Internal implosions only.”

“Try not to be- y’know? Your usual level of insane?”

“Why. He’s not here to date me. I shouldn’t have to hide my eccentricity in the comfort of my own home.” She mocks, looking evil.

“Good grief.” You sigh as you double triple safety sure check you’ve got everything in your purse. Candies. Lip smacker. Money. Coin change for the arcade machines. She leans over and peers into your purse

“Condoms are in the bathroom cabinet by the way.” She winks before tipping back more beer.

“Right. No to that.” You snap. “Go get in the attic. Now.” You tell her with no evident humour. Snapping your fingers and pointing up the stairs.

She pokes her tongue out at you in a very mature move.

You twist to the direction of the door when you hear a clunky rumble of something that was definitely a van engine, music all shredding shriek and rock heavy, easing to a stop. And then the thump of a door.

She practically inhaled all the air in the house when Eddie does one of his fumbly music-riff knocks on your front door. Deep Purple, you reckon.

“I think your nerd hath arriveth. Mi’lady.” She beams.

Claps her fingers together in overdone excitement. Trying to gawk through the blurry glass in the front door to make out his general shape.

Fuck. Now this is all so real and your stomach is clenching, doing those gravity defying swoops like it’s trying to take off without you.

You fluff your hair one last time and step to the door across the spongey purple entryway rug. You take a deep breath. Palm clammy and slipping on the doorknob. You twist it open.

Eddie breaks into a sunshine stroked grin the other side when he sees you. It melts you. Makes something inside glow coal hot at the sight of him again.

He’s wearing his jacket with a Van Halen tour tee. Faded wings of an eagle and band name crackled on old wash grey. The usual ensemble of chains and ripped jeans. But you see the new sight of fancy polished combat boots.

Wayne had made him sit his bony butt down for five seconds and polish them before he whirled out the door to come get you.

“A man takes pride in his shoes when taking a young lady out on a date, Edward.” As he gruffly handed him a shoe brush. Gestured with a lit red in the other hand.

Full name. Serious. Scary.

“Listen I need to get going if I’m gonna make it out of the Victorian Era on time.” Eddie sassed. Elbow folded up. Checking his Casio.

Wayne pushed the brush into his hand. Slammed the silver pot down in front of him. The claggy thick smell of polish coming from the well used army tin he had sat on the counter. Face as stoic as an Easter Island head. He wasn’t taking any bull.

“Less cheek. Get buffing.”

“Child labour has been outlawed you know.”

“Not in the Victorian Era it hasn’t.”

Eddie did as his Uncle ordered. Now here he is.

Smelling like cologne, cigarettes and the unmovable sticky tinge of dark boot polish. Hair having had a briefly tangled

liaison with a comb.

He’s chewed gum the whole way here worried about his smoky acrid breath. Piece after piece shoved into his mouth. Sharp spearmint spiking the bed of his tongue. It didn’t settle the squirming worms in his stomach. Nor the tap of his newly polished shoes in fidgeting.

“Hey.” He smiles. Nervously tucking his hands in his back pocket. His jacket jangles. The chain around his hip and his bandana sways with him as he stands on your porch.

“Hey yourself. You look nice.” You beam back. There’s an undeniable allure in your pretty face. Honey gold smile skated in shiny gloss. He equates to something like pure magic.

“Ditto, Pencils.” He smirks. Veiled flirt. Not letting himself get too eager with it. His eyes flick up your dress, down your legs, and back up.

Holy shit. Good doesn’t even begin to cover how you look right now.

You also cannot ignore the lingering looming presence of your mom as she practically leaps into his eye-line behind you. She’s utterly vibrating with excitement. You can sense her just jiggling with it.

She sidles up behind you and shoves herself into the gap you’ve left in opening the door.

Whatever he was expecting of your mom, he certainly didn’t imagine this whirlwind of a woman behind you.

She’s young too. Must’ve had you in her late teens. Not stuffy. No silent husband like a fixture in an easy boy chair in the living room. Silently scathing with disapproval. She’s not sporting a beige cardigan and a constant threat of neighbourhood watch association snobbery. Sneering at Eddie on her porch like he’s a flea infected stray, yowling at her door.

There’s no way in hell anything resembling stuffy could cling to this woman.

Fierce hazel eyes traced with crows feet, shiny dark hair all free-wild and choppy. She’s old movie star kinda striking. That Colgate grin touted about in the 1950’s. One he recognises as the one that closely and genetically mirrored yours.

Boot cut jeans and a pearly smile and a big fluffy sweater and denim jeans. Entirely mad and friendly and she’s only met him two seconds ago. Some punchy shredding ZZ top blasts from the kitchen and something tells him that’s all her taste too. As well as pair of violet rhinestone cowboy boots sat by the doormat. Whacky.

He thinks how wildly accurate it is that this busy bright, kinetic energy ball of a woman, raised an unconventional and awesome girl like you. That’s no leap there.

“It is so nice to meet you. Duckie.” She out and out grins. You give her one of your looks.

Eddie chuckles. A little lost. “Duckie?” He asks.

“Her grip on sanity is loose at best.” You explain.

She elbows you in the the hip as she takes the grin down to a less terrifying notch. “Ok. Ugly grandchildren are struck off the list. He’s adorable. Look at those Bambi eyes.”

You really wish you had locked her in the attic. She’s exploding all over the poor boy.

“She’s loopy when she’s off her meds. And around new people.” You sigh to him. It gets an easy smile. Buffs the nervous look away.

“Mom this is Eddie. Eddie, I’m so sorry, this is my Mom.” You introduce. Skating a hand to the woman chomping at the bit behind her shoulder.

“Don’t you say sorry for me.” She slithers her arm through the gap you’ve left in the door. Fluffy jumper all cable knit bobbled and fuzzy. She’s a wave of zingy energy smelling like smoky Newports and designer Yves Saint Laurent perfume.

He shakes her manicured offered hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. She’s told me only good things.”

“Then she’s totally been lying. Edward. A pleasure. I’m Veronica but please don’t call me that, everyone calls me Ronnie. Awesome awesome shirt by the way.” She beams as she peers around the door. Releasing his hand from hers. “Like your metal huh?” She asks.

She perched her hands on the doorframe and stuck her head into this pick up between the two of you.

“Only with my oxygen, food and water.” He jokes. A little of his truer wide smile comes sneaking out. Now he knows there’s no need to stand on awkward shuffly doormat ceremony with your parent.

Because he knows he isn’t a meet the parents kinda guy.

He’s the guy parents ring Principal Higgins about. With distaste sour, and judgement nastily spewing off their tongues. He’s tatted, he’s a cheap weed seller, he’s crazy and scraggy weird, and he lives in a trailer park. Stamp mark of future-convict hovered heavy and eternal over his head.

He’s a jump out the window, hide in the closet kinda guy. No one would ever bring him home all hair combed and sparkly clean, pressed button down, to mom and pop, for a meatloaf dinner. Cause he’s no one to be proud of.

Yet here? Perhaps in the eyes of the most unconventional mom in all of Hawkins, something has shifted.

Something feels like it’s been spun off its axis and set down wrong, cause this bubbly woman is smiling at him and excitedly prodding her daughter out the door to go on their date. And maybe she is insane. As you said.

Talk about falling down the rabbit hole. Punctured through the splintered looking glass. He’s not high, but he could swear on seeing white rabbits and mad hatters right about now. It’s fucking nice. He’d never have expected this funky curveball in coming to pick you up.

“Edward? Eddie?” She asks.

“Eddie is fine.” He offers. Nodding, as he slips his hands into his pockets. Self conscious move, even though he didn’t need to be.

She widens her smile. “Where abouts you from? I know DND club and the fact you’re a white male in high school. Other than that I’m out. She’s been stingy with details.” She jerks her thumb at you.

His tongue shrivels up. She’s tolerated him so far. Maybe this is the sour turning point that will tip the introduction on its head.

“I live in Forest Hill’s with my Uncle. My folks, uh aren’t around.” He tells with a tone she can tell is used to receiving nasty scratchy criticism. Eyebrows raise and moods change when he’s said that before.

She nods. Her smile doesn’t leave. Doesn’t even drop.

“Honey. I grew up in paradise trails mobile park in Sloan Nevada. Don’t sweat it. Doesn’t make us lepers.” She shrugs.

Like it didn’t just wash a whole wave of unease aside in his chest.

“People in this town seem negatively charged when I tell them that’s where I live.” He admits with a big clown smile. Your heart bleeds at the true reverence in his tone.

“People in this town, are snooty assholes.” She chuckles wisely.

Debbie Harry is throatily singing one way or another from the stereo in the kitchen now.

“You done grilling my date?” You ask her with a sickly smile.

“If you stick around, there will be a follow up round where I fetch your baby pictures. And invite him in for a beer.” She threatens. Eyes widening. Kubrick crazy.

“Bye Mom.” You say as you step out the door to join him on the porch. She catches it where you’ve left it open. Calls out as you stand in the clear night listening to the cicadas hum and the street lights buzz and blink into sleepy orange. You leave her chuckling.

“Wise move. Now scram before I dust off my pipe, And my old ‘what-are-your-intentions-towards-my-daughter’ queue cards.” Your mom winks at you.

“Enjoy your night, crazy lady. Go feed the cats.” You answer, calling back over your shoulder as you sling your hand into Eddie’s lapel and pull him across the lawn.

“Let’s get away from this house of lunacy.” You tell him.

He stumbles after you waving a goodbye to your mother. Almost tripping over his boots.

“Home by midnight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. No 420ing it without me.” She calls out to you.

Eddie chuckles as you bring him down your front lawn. Sneakers brushing the grass alongside the gentle thuds of his foot falls. Your hand migrated to holding his.

“That’s your mom.” He states. Sounding dumbfounded.

“I know. I should’ve warned you. She’s a whole new spin on the word eccentric.” You offer.

“She didn’t bark at me to get off her porch like I’m some stray, Pencils. That’s a hell of an improvement versus the reaction I thought I’d get.” He says as he looks down.

Avoiding stepping on the dandelions that are scattered across your lawn all yellow and happy. Just trying to grow upwards and peep at the sun.

You slope your fingers through his. He looks up and gazes at you as you fall in step.

“As insane and untethered to planet earth as she is, she’s really not like other moms around here. She likes you already, probably on sight of the Van Halen tee.” You tell him with smiling weight to your meaning.

His grin lopes across his face.

“She’s cool y’know. No stuffiness. No essence of church on Sunday is the law and green bean casseroles.” He nods. He likes it. He really does.

“She had my sister Charlie when she was a teenager. Me a couple years later. Possibly too young for the likings of the pissy bible study moms in this town. She dropped out of Berkeley. Parents chucked her out. She worked three crappy jobs whilst raising us and coping with my deadbeat dad, always hoping for a little better and, being, well, as you saw, entirely unhinged.” You gestured to your house.

“And…” You add. “She’s not a green bean casserole person. She stinks at cooking even by her own admission. Thankfully, we have Charlie for that. She’s the domestic one.”

Eddie smirks. His smile is pure warmth. “You guys are close, though. Tight knit. It’s cute.”

“I love that she’s not a run of the mill mom. Growing up, others didn’t tend to be as kind about it. They see a single parent, they immediately go to trashy, trampy, drunk, who doesn’t give a shit.” You roll your eyes.

Genuine hurt backs your voice though. “They set her and me aside cause we’ve always been different. We don’t have tonnes of money or a fancy house.”

And who knows that better than Hawkins own freak?

He squeezes your fingers. Warm rings all marking their usual grooves in your skin. A thorough loving squeeze that makes your heart go pattering all soppy in your chest.

“People are assholes. So I’m reliably told.” He parrots as he brings to you both to the passenger side of his van. Rings clack on the handle as he gets the door for you.

You stand and smile. “People are assholes. Look at the unfair bad rep they give you.” You point out.

He shrugs. Smirking. “What can I say? My handsome face and awesome personality protects me from total infamy.” He grins all

cheesy.

Yanking open the van door with a hand and turning his palm up to you.

“Here now, I was prepared for a little infamy. Munson. Are you telling me I’m gonna be disappointed?” You smirk as you step up close.

Eddie’s poor little rabbit heart flashes fast with the way your dress is kinda, pretty well low cut. And skimming and squeezing every beautiful curve. When you step close he can smell perfume and cherry gloss and all things sexy sweet.

You’re looking at him directly. Eyes smouldering under your eyeliner and wet n’ wild silver glitter. Angling for a kiss that he’s happy to give you til his lips damn well fall off.

He leaves the van door open. Steps you back just a little. Nudged your hips back to the body of it.

“Think I’m flirting with bad company here.” He smiles. Traces his nose along yours.

“Doubtlessly. Wanna back out now?” You ask in a husky whisper against his mouth. Hearts racing. Pulses whipping fast. Lust stirs.

His chest may implode but he’d be fine with that. Atleast he’d die kissing you. What a way to go-

“Yeah. I’m running for the hills here.” He teases. Cupping your neck and gingerly laying his fingers over your hip. You stroke hours through his long black vines of soft tousled hair.

Then he’s leaning all the way in to kiss you properly, so firmly and urgently on the mouth. Languid spearmint tongue tasting sharp and delicious, playing with your lower lip. You tug him in by his leather collar. Loving the way his body leans against yours. You moan softly.

Maybe you should’ve taken the freakin condoms after all?

Beyond the kissing, you barely hear your front door whine as it’s cracked open. Your mom hollers across the lawn with her beer in hand, and makes the dog down the street bark it’s damn head off.

“Gross. Get a room!”

You pull apart and he can’t help bursting into a smile.

“Let’s leave here. Please.” You ask of him. He can’t contain his blushy laughter.

~

My taglist for the JQ babes; @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns @gvtosbith @munsonswhore86 @munsonlov3r @lunatictardis @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-tittie @anaisweird @cerinthussulpicia @cinnamoncunt @thincrusttheworks @manicpixiedreamcurl @therosietoesy @fanficappreciationblog @thicksexxualtension @tvserie-s-world @sharp-and-swift @dadsbongos @2clones-1kamino @edsforehead @chcolateeyelver @seven-glass-kids @forever-is-not-for-everyone @creme-bruhlee @bkish @wayward-rose @wyverntatty @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @churchmuffins @chickpeadumpsterfire @choke-me-levi @prozacandnicotine @xeddiesbattattsx @s-u-t @alyssaaaaa-r

[sav-not-tav]

Get To Know Me Tag

Whew this was a long one! Thanks for the tag lovely, @darkurgetrash <3 This was fun! I love these games and learning more about my moots and sharing about myself when I wouldn't otherwise!

No pressure tags for: @little-paperboat @seabirdsong @forget-me-maybe Do you make your bed? Nope! Once I manage to peel myself out of that thing, what's left behind isn't my business. (plus I have 2 dogs who would promptly tear it back up, so,)

Favorite Number: I've always liked the number 11. Can't really say why, though!

What's your job? I am in sales, which works shockingly well given that I am pretty introverted IRL

If you could go back to school, would you? No. I was always smart but struggled in school because I had undiagnosed ADHD and was only seen as a problem child and as the weird girl. The lack of support and social issues left a bad taste in my mouth for school. Then, post-high school, I experienced terrible burnout in my first few years at college.

Can you parallel park/drive a manual car? Yes and yes. Cars and motorsports are actually a big passion of mine :)

Do you think aliens are real? Hell yeah! We'd be insane to think we're the only ones here. I kinda subscribe to the Dark Forest theory, though

What's your guilty pleasure? Napping. On the rare weekends that I have free time, there is nothing to stop me from a 6-hour mid-day nap. That and sweets.

Tattoos? I have 4, with plans for a few more. I have more piercings than tattoos at the moment. I just need to find a new artist, eventually... if I ever remember.

Favorite type of music: I have 2, depending on the mood. Metal/Rock or Electronic/House music. Which, these days a lot of metal leans on electronic heavily so it balances 🥰

Do you like puzzles? Yes and no. I really enjoy escape rooms as my ADHD can just go crazy with finding something, getting distracted and finding something else, then putting it all together. The time constraints are the vibe killer there, tbh

Any phobias? Fear of falling, definitely. I don't mind heights themselves if I'm in a secure position, but things like skydiving/ziplining/certain roller coasters do me in.

Favorite childhood sport: I was never into sports as a kid. I've gotten really into motorsports as an adult, though, and feel like if I grew up somewhere that kids motor sporting/karting was more prevalent *cough cough Europe cough cough* I would have been super into that.

Do you talk to yourself? Not really. There's enough going on in my mind 24/7 that the external stimulation might push me over the edge lol

What movie(s) do you adore? When people ask about my 'favorite movie', there are only ever 2 answers. Animated: Pixar's Cars. Live Action: Interstellar. No I will not take questions.

Coffee or tea: Depends. Cold: Coffee, all day. Hot: Tea, green, please.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? An astronaut 🥰

Last song I listened to: tear gas - Architects

Favorite color: Black!

Current obsession: BG3, lol.

Last thing I Googled: The phone # for my local tire shop 😂 Fancy.

Favorite Season: Winter. I love a good cold day.

Skill I'd like to learn: Painting. I actually went to art school for 2 years before suffering from extreme burn out. I was always decent with digital art, but I would love to be able to really, actually, literally paint

Best advice: I genuinely can't share any. Big head no thoughts. Sorry

Currently watching: Catching up on the Fallout show! I'm always very behind on new TV but currently about halfway through it.

Currently reading: A stupidly long list of BG3 fanfics as my "to read" books sit gathering dust on my bookshelf.

Relationship status: Married! Together since 2016 <3

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Gosh it really depends on the mood, but if I had to choose only one for the rest of my life, SWEET! I have a weakness for baked goods.

[nomicskeleton]

ROOMATES

pairings: kaeya, albedo, beidou x gn! reader

genre: modern! au, platonic fluff

warning: mentions of alcohol, albedo kinda ooc, mentions of intoxication on beidou's part, all lowercase

(a/n): this has been sitting on my draft like almost a year LMFAO— also, today's my birthday and i decided to drop this here as my greeting??? :") first time writing for genshin woman :'D hope i made this okay

KAEYA:

the social butterfly often brought his friends into your shared apartment. it sometimes irked you especially when you tried to study then loud voices boomed into your ears.

his room would be a mess, with several mugs on his desk, stacks of books and papers, messy sheets... but when his cleaning tendency was kicking, you'd find his room so tidy and clean.

his cooking skill was decent but honestly, you should take away any alcoholic stuff from him when he tried to cook. bro liked to experiment foods with alcohol and most of them tasted like shit.

would join you in watching shows on the tv, whether it was anime, documentary movies, etc.

was loud as hell during the shower. he'd sing and scream at the top of his lungs while rinsing himself. his voice was nice though.

would spam your message with incoherent words, like 'JDHDKDHDKDH' and such, sending you random memes, etc.

ALBEDO:

not gonna lie, you barely saw him since he'd spent all his day in the laboratory or his room. literally just out of your sight which led you to think if he didn't like you.

but when you two met each other, he'd nod as a sign of greeting. it was terribly awkward.

gradually started to stay more in the shared apartment with you. sometimes klee—his adopted sister—would come to visit too.

would join you in playing games and you were kind of surprised to see his usual calm and composed nature turned into a really loud and chaotic one.

was a nice and comfortable person to be around. his calm composure soothed you when you were anxious, he was always there for you if you needed a shoulder to lay on.

BEIDOU:

she often had her friends in your shared apartment. you didn't dislike it though since they were all fun and easy-going.

when beidou first time came home intoxicated, you almost fainted when you tried to carry her since she was *cough* heavy *cough*, not only that, the brunette was fidgety which made you easily tired.

was attentive enough and could guess what was happening to you just by looking at your expression.

an early bird. her voice was literally your alarm. like the moment she yelled: "Y/N, WAKEY WAKEY! RISE AND SHINE!" honestly it was okay to throw your pillows at her at this moment.

always had her songs played loudly in the morning while she was either taking her bath, cooking or just doing anything.

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Let Me Be Your Wings

For @fluffbruary Day 3: seashore Fandom: Young Justice(Comics)/Batman Pairing: Tim/Kon, Tim & Jason, Tim & Bart & Kon & Greta & Ainta & Cissie & Cassie Summary: By the sea, Tim reflects on what he lost and what has been returned to him. No Warnings You can read it on AO3 And yes the title is from the movie Thumbelina

The seashore is vastly different from the desert and Gotham.

The sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks along with the whale songs to one another Tim couldn't remember the last time he felt safe.

No more Assassins were waiting in the shadows, watching his every move.

No more checking his room for traps, no more having to keep his guard up all of the time.

A year spent travelling to find proof that Bruce was alive just lost in time had left scars on Tim, physically, mentally and emotionally that he will carry for the rest of his life.

He had been unable to stay in Gotham, Ra's was gone for now having to rebuild what Tim had destroyed but there was still Damian and Tim saw too much in his Grandfather in him to believe Dick when he said he had changed. Nor that he had much trust in Dick these days.

Bart, and god did it feel good to be able to say that name without the raging feel of grief had taken one look at Tim and declared that he needed a vacation.

And a Young Justice reunion.

Jason had offered up Outlaws Island for them to hold their reunion while they were off dealing with an Outlaws matter in space.

“Look kid, I have been terrible to you. I blamed you when my rage was for Bruce and that clown. I can never take back the damage I did and the harm I caused you but I can still try to make amends. I don't know what you did to bring back Bruce but you went through hell and you need time to rediscover Tim and I can at least offer you this. So use the Island rebond with your friends just try to leave the island still standing when you are done.”

At that moment Tim had seen his Robin shining through Jason and he felt hope that maybe he and Jason could build something.

Jason was right; he had been used up and spit out this past year. So much had happened and he didn't know who he was anymore.

A pair of arms wrapped around him as he was engulfed by pure warmth. Closing his eyes, Tim fell back into Kon's embrace.

“What has got you thinking so hard over here? Bart has been pouting up a storm because you find staring at the seashore more fun than hanging out with him.”

Kon's chuckle vibrated through Tim's whole body and he opened up his eyes just to remind himself he wasn't dreaming that he had Kon and Bart back in his life. That Death's hold on them hadn't been permanent.

Behind them, they could hear Bart's delighted laughter as Anita cursed him out. Greta's gentle voice as she tried to calm Anita down. Cassie and Cissie both shout encouragement, Cassie for Anita and Cissie for Bart.

“How happy I am to be here with all of you.” And Tim meant it he couldn't remember the last time he had been that happy.

And that night after a campfire where Tim hogged all the marshmallows to himself, much to a pouting Bart's dismay and after the others fell asleep Tim and Kon danced above the water the moonlight and stars the only witness.

“I will never let you fall,” Kon whispered as he held Tim close.

Pressing his forehead against Kon's, Tim whispered back, "I know. I know you will catch me when I fall.”

[lyranova]

If you're still doing the salty ask game, can you do 4, 9, 12, and 19

Hiya Luce! Yep i’m still accepting requests for the salty ask game, and I apologize this took me a bit, I kind of went on a rant for number 19! Also I answered two of these for Black Clover and two for FFVII! I hope you enjoy!

4 Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?*

I’ve answered this a couple of times for BC already and I don’t feel like repeating myself again so I’m going with FFVII this time 😆; and my biggest NoTP is Cloud x Aerith, and yes they are a very popular OTP 😅. I just really like them as friends, family, or platonic soulmates whose love is different then that of romantic partners love! Also right behind that is Zack x Tifa and thats because it feels like people are just “pairing the spares” 😔.

(As I always say; if you ship these ships then good for you, and I fully support you in loving these ships!)

9 Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Hmm…in Black Clover? I guess aside from the usual suspects (Sekke, Auggie, Alecdora, etc) it would have to be; Jester, Sally, and Damnatio.

Jester…I like him in fanon, but dislike him in canon. In canon he’s annoying to me and not in a fun and “gremlin” way like in fanon (or at least, in mine and my mutuals fanon 😆). I really just didn’t vibe with him in the movie and couldn’t wait for him to disappear 😔.

Sally is also more of a “i don’t vibe with them”. She’s just very…extra? But not in a good way. And imo she takes things too far and comes off as annoying like Jester. I’ve tried to like her, i really have, but she just doesn’t vibe with me at all.

Damnatio is amazing in fanon! But in canon? He comes across as a bit…boring when compared to other characters in the series, at least to me. Maybe it’s intentional on Tabs part, or maybe its because we don’t see him very much, but to me he is very blah and uninteresting as a character (even tho his magic is kind of cool)!

12 Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

Hmm…I guess the Devil Believer arc in BC? Thats really the only unpopular arc i can think of 😅. To me the concepts and ideas it introduces are interesting (such as showing us what happened on the ground during the elf invasion, showing us directly how those with very low mana are treated in the country, etc;) even tho they weren’t executed very well. I feel like that arc had/has a lot of potential in it, so I do enjoy it despite its many…many, many faults!

19 What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

Since there isn’t anything in the BC fandom that I hate, I’ll go with another fandom that I lurk in which is FFVII! The thing I hate most about it is the toxicity, ship wars, and character hate!

My poor mutuals have had to hear me complain about it many times recently, but its just…so freaking bad rn! I’m trying to find cute art, fics, and headcanons but instead all I see are people arguing about song lyrics, words and meanings and context in scenes, and even going as far as to threaten and argue with the writers and developers of the game (hell and even some going as far as to argue and threaten streamers and gamers over their freaking fan theories)😭! Like I get it, this happens in every big fandom, but maybe its because I’ve been in a small one for so long…but this is just a bit much and kind of took a lot of the joy I had for the game away (There is a lot of good and fun in the fandom too, its just a little harder to find these days)!

And the ship wars are just, really, really terrible (it doesn’t help that they’ve been going on for nearly 30 years!)! Again, I understand this is in every big fandom with a bunch of popular ships, but really is it that hard to scroll past or block and ignore 😭?? I just don’t see the point in arguing about them; you like what you like, i like what I like, and let’s just agree to disagree! This is another one of those “I’ve been in a small fandom too long” because most of the mutuals and people I follow either scroll past when they see a ship they don’t like, or they go “I may not like it, but I see how much you do, and I support you in that!”.

The character hate…*sigh* again, I get it and I know not everyone is going to like the same characters…but there comes a point where its too much! When you have to mischaracterize them completely, or point to scenes that the writers have gone back and changed/retconned/removed in order to “prove how much of a terrible character they are”, or you have to focus on this one “terrible thing” that particular character did while ignoring the terrible things that other characters did…just shows me that you’re willing to make up whatever you want in order to excuse your useless hate for that character! (You can literally just go; “eh I don’t vibe with them/they’re not my cup of tea” and leave it at that 😭!!)!

[the-ghost-bracket]

Heather Chandler propaganda:

"I say the musical instead of the movie because in the movie Heather Chandler just shows up as a ghost in like one dream but in the musical she is sincerely having way too much fun haunting Veronica. It's great.

Also sorry for the Heathers spoilers"

"She's super gay."

"The almighty. She is a mythic bitch. Has some banger lines and all of her songs go so hard. Memeable as hell"

"I just love how sassy she is and the fact that, in the musical at least, she approves of some of Veronica's writing in her suicide note."

"Literally just go watch GHOST! Heather Chandler in the musical. Icon"

"Girl drank draino and came back looking like a baddie to tell Veronica she fucked up"

"she’s terrible. but after Veronica and JD kill her, she sticks around to comment on everything. she’s psyched by how popular her supposed ‘suicide’ made her. maybe a hallucination or maybe a ghost, who knows?"

[attroxx]

                                         GET  TO  KNOW  THE  MUN

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 ?

as far as canons go, they are my lil glorbo's. i have a thing for main characters, especially underrated main characters. naruto and atsushi are just my lil guys that i heavily relate to in one aspect or another. i'm writing an alt verse of atsushi but i love atsushi's character in general ( i've considered adding his canon self ) john has been a recent add to this blog and just...i really love FAITH, the game hits all the good religious trauma / horror notes for me. i love a priest who is dabbling with his faith and loyaltys. as for my oc's well, some of them i've had for years ( dom and mia ) but a lot of them are new since i made this blog and i love each of them differently but deeply.

𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 ?

i'm pretty down for most genres. there are some tropes / writing themes i'm not into like pregnancy threads ( i could make an exception for mia ) and obviously gross shit like incest / pro-ship stuff makes me sick. heavy no. otherwise i'm pretty open to things like horror, comedy, romance, dark themes, religious themes.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ?

i love writing romance and i'm tired of being made to feel sorry for it. of course i love writing angst, familial things as well but i really enjoy romance. i am a hopeless romantic in real life so, i just love shipping and the different dynamics that come with that. i love writing religious themes and general horror. i love writing characters who are total opposites it's just super fun.

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ?

mostly at random. i'll see something in a movie or have a random thought and it leads to other thoughts and boom headcanons. my muses just give me vibes on things and it stems from that...idk i dont have a system LOL

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 ?

music. i gotta have music. even a yt video in the background works but i gotta have noise. lmao.

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 ?

mostly wing them. plotted things i have a little bit of an idea how things will go but i'd say 99% of shit i write is never plotted so, it's all me just winging it. i don't really enjoy super plotted threads tbh cause then it feels like i'm just coloring in the numbers ? i like things to be a little loose and free.

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ��𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 ?

yes very much. but not just romantic. platonic and familial is good too. <3

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬 / 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ?

salem ~

𝐚𝐠𝐞 ?

i am 28 *cries*

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 ?

october 1st, libra gang

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 ?

pink, blue, black

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 ?

next. lmao how am i supposed to pick favorite songs of all time ? smh.

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ?

scream 6

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ?

i'm not sure ? probably one of the 4 anime i'm watching rn

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 ?

moving out - kacey musgraves

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 ?

potatoes, seafood, ramen, sushi, chicken ( mostly fried chicken or wings ), pasta, chocolate and a bunch of stuff i love food i love eating out at a good restaurant.

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 ?

fall, it's the best season. i don't mind early summer either but august is too fucking hot. i hate winter . . . i got seasonal depression and i live in midwest hell so winters are terrible here.

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 ?

would have to be @aeviare who is on hiatus rn but she's my babe. lmao. we met on tumblr rp in 2020 and i've flown to see her multiple times and talk every day so. but other than tiff i'm not sure ? sighs. i'm very shy and i do love getting to know my rp friends but sometimes conversations just die and i'm horrible at reaching out. i'm just . . . i'm a shy lil guy okay i'm trying to be better but. (: personally i consider all my mains good friends but idk if they would say the same so. shrugs.

tagged by: @blaecdog tagging: @mythcaels, @metrictita, @fangier, @mundanemiseries

[escrivoir]

People I Want to Know Better

TY @citedkisses for the tag <3

LAST SONG? - Cannibal Within (Amigo the Devil) So Amigo the Devil is an INCREDIBLE act when you see him/them live, but not everyone's cup of tea when recorded. Still, all of the songs that he/they (started as a one man project, and he now has a band) do are incredibly poetic and have wild imagery.

FAVORITE COLOR? - I love green. The soft green of moss, the dark green of a shadowed forest, the pale green of the first car I had which I aptly named "Kermit." Green.

CURRENTLY WATCHING? - .... Band of Brothers. Again. But I also watch whatever crappy anime my husband is watching.

LAST MOVIE? - I just saw Deadpool & Wolverine in theatres, which was super fun, although not terribly lasting.

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? - Spicy. Jess, what the hell?

RELATIONSHIP STATUS? - Deliriously, blissfully married for almost 16 years. It's gross. I know.

CURRENT OBSESSIONS? - Sleep. My dog. Moving. Right now everything is insane.

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? - I have no idea but it was 100% work related. Sigh.

Tagging @pleasedon-twakeme for shits and giggles. Go, Sarah, go!

[wickedwitchofthenorth]

Just came across a post comparing Gumball Watterson to Eric Cartman which, no. Just no. Eric Cartman is a bigoted neonazi, Gumball Watterson accepts everyone. (Sure, there was that one time he accidentally offended Leslie, but that was clearly an accident and he does try to make it up to him in his own way.) That's kinda the whole point of Elmore. You know, nobody's a nobody and everybody's weird like you and me? Sure Gumball can be a jerk sometimes but I never feel like his words or actions come from a place of bigotry. To be honest, I don't think The Amazing World of Gumball has much in common with South Park besides the general blueprint of "surrealist cartoon comedy that takes place in a town where anything can happen" and that can describe a lot of cartoons. (With one exception, the episodes "Asspen" and "The Sweaters" are pretty similar as both have plots where the main character(s) are being dragged into a sports movie plot they want nothing to do with. But Gumball doesn't play Cartman's role in that episode so the point still stands.) Gumball gives me more of a Simpsons vibe honestly. Hell, even Gumball makes fun of that in one of their episodes. ("Apparently making terrible jokes, jumping around, and replacing song lyrics with the word "banana" is a breach of intellectual property rights. Ay caramba!") So Gumball's clearly more the Bart Simpson type. A troublemaker, but a good guy deep down.

[vintagepresley]

I’ve only seen a few Elvis movies so far, but I was curious how you would rank them? From best to worst. :)

Oooh.. Which ones have you seen? Also, I'd love to rank his movies! This will be fun. 😂

These are how I rank them personally. But I'd love to hear everyone else's rankings! I will be ranking the movies from the 50's first and then do the 60's, because his movies in the 50's are honestly my favorite because the stories actually made sense and weren't rushed and you can tell he actually cared.

The 50's - From best to worst

King Creole (Baby acted his ass off in this and the story was great!)

Jailhouse Rock (I really loved this because I could hope that he would've taken charge of his career the way Vince did without the asshole part. Another where the story was great.)

Loving you (He was just too darn cute in this movie with his little stuttering and I love that his parents were in it. Deke has my heart.)

Love Me Tender (Spoiler: this gets worst because he dies 😭)

The 60's - From best to worst

1. Follow That Dream (Does this even need an explanation? You guys know how much I love this movie and not even for the story. It's my comfort movie)

2. Girls! Girls! Girls! (This was the very first Elvis movie I saw and I hold it dear to my heart. I would play Return to Sender on repeat, lol)

3. Wild in the Country (I know this is like 50/50 for people but I really loved this movie. The story was great and his acting was amazing.)

4. G.I Blues (God.. This movie.. He.. Yeah, he looked fine as hell. Story was okay. The songs are my fave.)

5. Live a Little, Love a Little (This was the second Elvis movie I saw and honestly is a favorite!! Bernice is insane BUT I STAN. Greg Nolan is my baby.)

6. It Happened at the World's Fair (This movie was so cute and funny. I always love him in movies with kids! 😭)

7. The Trouble with Girls (DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN?!!? HIS EYES WERE SPARKLING. THE SUITS)

8. Change of Habit (Okay, I feel like this movie is incredibly underrated and AE made it seem like it was so terrible. But I personally loved this movie because of its serious story and plot. It was also a different character we've seen Elvis play. I think had there been no songs at all, this would've been taken more seriously. He also looked good af.)

9. Flaming Star (Despite the stereotypes and well everything else that would get this movie canceled.. I actually enjoyed it a lot. It was certainly different for Elvis. If I remember correctly, Tarantino said this was his favorite Elvis western because it was the most violent.)

10. Kid Galahad (This movie was good and another different character for him. But I'm not into boxing so it was kind of boring to me)

11. Blue Hawaii (I really enjoyed this movie, but I don't love it as much as everyone does. I don't get the hype and I also think Can't Help Falling In Love is overplayed and overrated. He's got so many better love songs. But that's just my opinion! This movie still gets a good ranking though.)

12. Viva Las Vegas (I enjoyed this movie! But much like Blue Hawaii I don't get the hype. It's not my favorite but definitely not the worst)

Now let's get into the movies that in my personal opinion were the worst. Now that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy them. Even with the stories not being great; some of them were funny!

13. Fun in Acapulco (This movie was enjoyable but the story could've been better and I didn't really like a lot of the songs.)

14. Roustabout (I just found this movie so boring and I'm not surprised the colonel loved it. But Elvis looked HOT.)

15. Girl Happy (I really enjoyed this but again the story wasn't great and his character wasn't anything special. But if you want a few laughs this is a good one. ALSO ELVIS IN A DRESS!!!) 16. Tickle Me (this movie was so funny and Elvis always has perfect comedic timing. It reminded me of Scooby Doo. But unfortunately the story was meh they also used songs from one of his old albums because they had nothing written for the film)

17. Spinout (This movie was okay, a few laughs. But nothing too special besides him threatening to spank someone, lol. Basic Elvis character.)

18. Speedway (A few good songs, but kinda boring to me)

19. Frankie and Johnny (I really liked the aesthetic of this film and some of the songs, but it certainly wasn't the best. He looked horrid in that yellow sweater lmfao)

20. Paradise, Hawaiian Style (I enjoyed the songs and his interaction with the little girl. It was too cute! A few good laughs, but nothing to rave about)

21. Stay Away, Joe (This movie was so ridiculous and stupid, but also funny as hell to me because of how ridiculous it was. Another one that would be cancelled. But Elvis looked so good lol)

22. Clambake (SNOOZE FEST. Stupid story also Elvis tried to get out of making this movie. So much drama behind the scenes of this, lol. He was fat shamed. His character.. I don't even know.)

23. Charro! (This movie could've been great since they weren't really any songs, Elvis' acting was great and he looked good with a beard. But the story was just so boring.)

24. Double Trouble (This movie was funny but that's about it. Story was eh)

25. Kissin' Cousins (Jesus Christ.. Where do I even begin with this movie? We should not be hooking up with our cousins first off, LMFAO. The only good thing was Jodie. 😂)

26. Harum Scrum (I DONT EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN THIS DUMPSTER FIRE. I hate this movie, lol. 2.99 WASTED. Like wtf was this?? It was so bad Elvis gave up acting in the middle of it lol.)

Now let's rank the concert docs for funsies!

Elvis on Tour (THIS IS MY BABY. The amount of times I watch this is unhealthy. He's so fucking sexy in it and just watching him at all these shows doing what he loves. Ugh. The shot of him staring out the window and kind of just lost in thought.. It just makes me want to hold him.)

That's The Way It Is (The first concert doc I watched. This is just amazing. The album alone is my favorite. But seeing him up on that stage giving it his all and having so much fun doing it warms my heart.)

Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite (I know this technically isn't a concert doc but it belongs on this list. Do I even need to say how amazing this was??? How good he looked?? This certainly is underrated.)

Honorable mention

Elvis In Concert - (I wish they would release this because it only aired once I believe on October 3rd, 1977. But that was it. You can watch it on YouTube because someone remastered it and fixed the audio as best as they could. But It'd be nice if EPE would just release the actual footage and have CBS or RCA remaster it. Despite how ill he was he still put on a performance no matter what. He still wanted to make the fans happy. But I understand why they don't really want it out there.)

Sorry this was so long and I don't know if you wanted my actual opinions on them. But I felt I might as well give them, lol. Thanks for the question, bestie!

[parisbytaylorswift]

My F-1 Trillion thoughts

TLDR: The slow songs are better, I love Dolly, and most of these did not need to be features

Wrong Ones (Tim McGraw): VERY stadium country. Not totally my thing but I respect it. If this is setting the stage for the rest, I hope the features deliver.

Finer Things (Hank Williams Jr.): Oh. Definitely not my thing. Sounds like a Florida Georgia Line song. That’s not a good thing. Could’ve been a lot better with a more toned-down acoustic production style. I guess this is the pseudo-title track for the album? I like the album title on it’s own but I hope this song isn’t representative of the whole thing.

I had some help (Morgan Wallen): I’ve heard this one before, and yeah, I really don’t like Morgan Wallen. If it hadn’t been a feature, I think I could at least accept this a fun catchy pop-country song. But I really don’t think Posty needed the “help” on this one.

Pour Me a Drink (Blake Shelton): Post’s voice works so well for a country song, I just don’t understand why there’s so many unnecessary features on this album. This could’ve been a solo song is a statement that applies to most all of these. That said, lyrically, it’s a fun blue collar anthem. . . being sung by a The Voice judge. It’s just hard to take Blake Shelton seriously when we tries to do these blue collar anthems, and feels appropriating

Have the Heart (Dolly Parton): DOLLY CAN DO NO WRONG. THIS is a well used feature. Very rhinestone cowboy reminiscent. This is Taylor Swift’s cowboy like me without the criminal activity and with a much more hopeful sound.

What Don’t Belong To Me: FINALLY. A solo track. Post sounds great on these more personal ballad style songs. A great catchy ear worm chorus is a staple of his, and this is that! There’s no mistaking this for a Post Malone song, even with a genre change-up. I like the true to form songwriting style.

Goes without Saying (Brad Paisley): This is a pop song with a banjo. This is gonna be on country radios for a long time, isn’t it? The new unavoidable Brad Paisley song I guess. Not terrible or anything, just okay.

Guy for That (Luke Combs): THIS DIDN’T NEED TO BE A FEATURE!!! More stadium country okayishness.

Nosedive (Lainey Wilson): It sounds good when Post slows down!! The more emotional ballads of this album are the best parts. I can see this being used in a blockbuster romance movie soundtrack based off a Nicholas Sparks book.

Losers (Jelly Roll): 10 years ago this would’ve been used in a Disney movie about middle school bullying. In 2024, teenagers are going to bully sing this AT the losers sitting in the back of football bleachers.

Devil I’ve Been (Ernest): She fixed him! (Really she did!) Unfortunately his friends are still demons.

Never Love You Again (Sierra Ferrell): Slow songs are great!! Do this more!! The slow bass line works great here.

Missin’ You Like This (Luke Combs): Luke Combs again? Really? The slowed down wistful love song is nice here, but really, really, didn’t need to be a feature.

California Sober (Chris Stapleton): Another feature done really well. The harmonizing route with both their voices is great compared to the alternating style on other tracks. Stapleton and Post’s voices are great together, and makes for a really fun sound.

Hide My Gun (HARDY): Again, the slower songs are the best ones here for letting Post really shine for who he is. Also, murder!!!

Right About You: I love a good song title pun (Kacey Musgraves’ Space Cowboy you are beloved), the ‘right/writing about you’ bit here is very appealing. It lands well, and it’s a fun love song about being famous for your heartbreak.

M-E-X-I-C-O (Billy Strings): YEEHAW!!!!!! A ridiculous story song is always fun! Hell yeah man take her daddy’s money and blow it in Vegas and get shot out of chapel alongside Elvis on your way to Mexico!

Yours: Sounds like an early 2000s post-9/11 sad country song to be made with a sad sepia filtered music video. But! I do respect the lyrics and everything Post did with it. There isn;’t really anything wrong with sounding twenty years ago is twenty years ago was good. Just glad this album didn’t get a Toby Keith feature.