#thanks to monty because we love you monty

[downbaddetective]

I'm finally coming back to one of my previous posts. (Thank you to @m-eowdy for the reminder to finish the thought. I'm sorry if it's a little disappointing after the wait.)

Specifically these two shots of Edwin being completely covered in our two most important colors, because the symbolism here is significant to me.

I lost the original thoughts that I had (unfortunately migraines make me forget things) and by the time I was feeling kind of okay I knew that there were things I wanted to say but couldn't remember how. So, instead, I sat and rewatched the show, taking notes so that I could make sure that I wasn't making anything up.

So, color symbolism in this show is so stupidly important, and it's called out by characters in universe (thank you, Niko). We obviously see our characters in their colors, Edwin in blue, Charles in red, Crystal in purple, and Niko in pink. But it's also not that cut and dry. Edwin, in all reality, is very grey, Crystal wears a lot of different colors, and so does Niko. Obviously, part of that is because the girls aren't dead and have to change their clothes, but the colors that are worn are still significant to their state of mind and the events happening around them. With Edwin and Charles, it's very similar, though a little different. Charles' red gets darker as he is more and more affected by what happens at the Devlin house. Edwin, though, barely shows his blues most of the time, but when he becomes vulnerable, he sheds his grey layers, and we see it a lot more.

Now, I think that it's worth mentioning that Edwin and Charles swap their afterlife colors, so when they look at each other, they see their afterlife. The red and blue also give us clues as to things that they're hiding. Red being often associated with anger and blue with sadness. That being said, I'm now getting to the symbolism in the fact that Edwin is one of two* characters to be washed in both hell's red and death's (heaven's?) blue like this.

Edwin's entire journey is kind of impeded by the fear of getting caught by the afterlife and being sent back to hell. Red is his constant source of fear, hell being the biggest example, but Charles in his red is also the cause of Edwin's issues. Charles is the reason why both the Cat King and Monty have some type of red associated with them during interactions with Edwin. These colors are omens for Edwin. Charles essentially shared his blue afterlife light with him. They were meant to be detectives together, and that's where it all starts, right there in that attic. The red, on the other hand, is indicative of the bullshitery that is incoming, including the worst-case scenario, aka BEING DRAGGED BACK TO HELL. RIGHT THERE. IN THE APARTMENT THAT THEY GO LOOK AT RIGHT AFTER THIS. (Even though it is definitely at least partially his own darn fault.) The fact that we see these two scenes out of order also indicates that by the end of it all Edwin has overcome the previously stated bullshitery. We see Edwin interact with these two colors as a collective much more in the show, and it's seems it's because this was Edwin's time to learn and grow, and I suspect that if we get a season two at some point, we will see that flip so that Charles can have his turn.

All in all, I am absolutely in love with the colors in this show and I will probably have more to say later but I wanted to finish at least this part of the color analysis so that I could have a resolution to the previous post. I don't think I was able to recover all of my original thoughts about the significance of these two, but I think I got a pretty good chunk of it. I do want to say that I've seen the other color analyses floating around. I will be taking a look at some point, but before doing my own, I will be avoiding them for now because I want to write about my own perception rather than accidentally just stealing other peoples work.

(* Ngl, a little worried about Jenny if we ever see a season two)

[monty-glasses-roxy]

This might be the illness talking, but I want a 'Monty feeling like he's not as good as bonnie' where Roxy comforts him but it's just Roxy being 100% brutally fucking honest about it.

Monty: I'LL NEVER BE AS GOOD AS BONNIE!!

Roxy: HELL YEAH

Monty: Wh-

Roxy: Bonnie fucking SUCKED!!! It's about time we had a good bass player!!

Monty: Rox what- I thought he was ya friend????

Roxy: Yeah but that doesn't mean he could play for shit.

Monty: ?????????

Bonus if this happens in front of Freddy and Chica and they're a combination of offended on Bonnie's behalf, kinda in agreement that he did kinda suck at it, and just astounded by the sheer balls on this dog for saying it like she did with his bestie and fucking boyfriend in the room.

Roxy and Bonnie were besties but she won't lie for him even after deactivation lmao

[artsy-waffle19]

They literally put Edwin through every possible gay-romance trope but made it realistic and that's so special to me like

we got the "probably former friend can't handle feelings and turns into bully instead" but it doesn't end with them, making up and being happy, they break apart, things escalate and they both suffer from that situation for a major part of their existence. With a bit of luck and a LOT of growing they manage to talk it out and the victim finds it in himself to forgive his bully but it's never going to be truly fine. But even though they both suffer tremendously, they are faced to deal with themselves in the process and find a kind of peace they wouldn't have gotten otherwise. Because maybe it's better to hurt for a long time only to realise that it really doesn't have to be torture to be the way you are and finally freeing yourself entirely than quietly live without the conflict but also without the realisation and resenting yourself for its entirety.

then there's the situation with the cat king. Older, emotionally unstable guy obsesses over younger inexperienced guy who actually understands him and causes some sort of gay awakening. But instead of some "I can fix him" bullshit with them, ending up happily ever after because "they're the only ones who understand each other"TM we get to see Edwin set boundaries and standing up for himself which benefits the both of them. For Edwin this ends in going "Hey thank you for opening that door to discovering that part of myself but I'm actually gonna have to leave you at the doorstep now" and for the cat king it ends up with him actually feeling seen because for once somebody didn't fall for his probably usual game of "I'm bored so I'm going to make a game of getting that guy to do what i want by seducing him". The fact that they don't end up together is the reason they were good for each other.

Also the situation with Monty which is basically the experience of a lot of queer peoples first relationship. They meet and they're both somehow new to all of this. Being queer, relationships, all that stuff. And they get along and share some interests, they like soending time with each other and technically it's like in a romance book because they meet and one of them is immediately interested and then they talk and they sit on a swingset and they kiss. And there's the excitement about "apparently I'm making my first experience with romance right now" and the worry of "I'm queer...I have it harder with relationships...what if this is the best option i have? what if it's the only one?" so they go through all the romance book tropes but the spark simply isn't there and it ends in one of them getting way more invested tha the other and they eventually end up breaking up in blood. But in a way both of them got an idea about what they actually want in life out of it so even if that sone didn't end well, it did give them something.

And last but not least the "in love with best friend who likes someone else/someone of the opposite gender specifically" but instead of having that best friend be secretly in love with the character all along or suddenly turn homophobic and the friendship being ruined they talk about it and they move on and the friendship isn't damaged and in a way it might even be better because sometimes our feelings are unrequited and sometimes that's okay.

I just really really love how the show took all of those options for cheesy and in a way sometimes even forced romance tropes and went "hey, life is not a romance novel but actually that kind of makes it better because look where it got you now"

[mystic-writings]

just a twisted ankle | newt

PAIRING – newt x fem!reader

REQUEST – @heliads - hi monty!! saw you wanted some newt requests so i simply could not hold back. could i please request a newt x reader fic in which newt and reader are both track-hoes and obviously in love with each other but pining in silence? alby and minho are doing their best to get them together but they're both excruciatingly oblivious lmao. thank you so much!!

SUMMARY – you and an overly protective newt are in love. the only problem seems to be that everyone but you and him are aware of it.

WARNINGS – weird behavior, obliviousness, fluff, semi-crack?, friends to lovers, minor injury

WORD COUNT – 3,031

NOTES – AAAA this has been in my requests for forever and i’m just now writing it?? i absolutely loved writing this and a big big thanks to @shmaptainwrites for being my lovely beta reader!

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There were very few downsides to being a Track-hoe. You enjoyed being outdoors all day, breathing in the fresh air and the amazing smell of fresh plants, chatting with your fellow track-hoes and generally enjoying yourself. 

The main issue you had was the dirt. 

Sure, it was essential to your job, but it was the worst possible thing about it. You didn’t even mind the sweat and aching muscles most of the time, because that just meant a job well done. But the dirt? If you could plant and grow things without it, you would. The way it stuck to your clothes, your skin. How it buried itself into your pores and underneath your fingernails and took forever to scrub off your skin. 

The biggest upside, however, was Newt. 

You’d been here almost 2 years, and he was quite possibly your favorite person in the Glade. He was the first person besides Alby to reach out and connect with you, not really caring or fearing the fact that you were, and still are, the only girl. Minho was the second person to do the same. 

Newt, over time, had become your biggest confidant about almost everything. You spent pretty much all of your spare time with him, and he with you. After long days, you’d take the time after dinner to walk around the Glade. Sometimes you’d talk, and sometimes you’d just enjoy one another’s presence. Everyone knew not to mess with you, and the Greenies that didn’t usually learned their lesson pretty quickly. 

You liked to call him your protector with a smile, mostly because he’d always flush bright red at the compliment. 

It’d been a few days since the box came up, and the newest Greenie, Jason, was still getting his bearings around the Glade. He’d only learned his name yesterday, and that was after he threw up watching Winston show him how the slicers do their jobs. Today, he was with you and the other Track-hoes. 

He’d been mostly hovering near Zart and Newt, who were showing him the ropes. You, however, caught him glancing over at you a few too many times. It was normal for a Greenie, and for you, since you were the only girl. But it didn’t stop you from feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

Jason had been staring at you — as Zart was showing him how to de-weed the vegetables — until Newt clapped him on the shoulder. Faintly, you could hear them talking. 

“Stop staring, mate. Focus on the job.” Newt said, his tone laced with that all-too-familiar protectiveness. It made you smile, the way his eyes pierced into Jason’s and struck him with a fear he seemed to make all the Greenies feel when it came to you. 

After a while, you felt Jason resume his staring, even after Newt’s ‘warning’. You knew that he’d learn sooner or later, you just hoped it was the latter. While you were digging up some carrots, knowing it would take you forever to clean under your fingernails before dinner, Newt’s shadow blocked your view of the sun, forcing you to look up at him.

“Come on,” he nodded to the deadheads. “Zart said we need more fertilizer.” 

Extending a hand upward, Newt pulled you to your feet before handing you the second bucket. As you departed from the gardens, you swung the empty bucket and sighed. “I don’t know why he never just sends one of us. There’s no way this is a two person job.” 

“I’ve stopped questioning Zart,” Newt shrugged. “He’s the Keeper, what he says, goes. That’s all.”

Contemplating Newt’s words, you looked up at the leaves for a moment and tripped on a root. Newt barely caught you as you lurched forward, both buckets landing on the forest floor. “Besides, I think if you tried to do this yourself, you’d trip and break your neck.” 

“Well,” you exaggerated a sigh, “can’t have that, can we?”

Newt shook his head, grabbing the buckets. “No, we can’t.” 

After making it to the fertilizer pile and back with no further injury, the day carried on as normal. Newt and Zart continued training and carefully watching the Greenie to see if he was exactly up for the job of Track-hoe. 

By the time the dinner bell rang, you were exhausted. You felt like this most days, but today you had to devote more energy than usual on making sure the Greenie wasn’t staring at you as if you’d solve all of his problems just by talking to him. 

You and Newt took off at the same time, chatting about the Greenie and whether he was good for the Track-hoes or not. “I hope not,” you groaned. “He keeps staring at me. He’d spend more time looking at me than doing his actual job if he got put with us.”

“I know,” Newt chuckled. “I spent the day with the poor shank. You have no idea how many times I had to divert his attention back to his work, it was unbelievable.”

You shook your head. “Trust me, I know. I could feel him staring at me all damn day.” 

The dining hall was already pretty full of Gladers, milling about or grabbing food or sitting down. Quickly, you could smell Frypan’s beef stew wafting from the pots on the table. Your stomach suddenly felt empty, and you couldn’t wait to pour yourself a bowl. You and Newt moved in tandem, pouring out soups into your own bowls from ladles hooked on the edge of the metal pots and grabbing cups of water from the table beside you. 

Minho was already sitting at your usual table, peacefully eating his soup amid the usual chaos. Joining him, you and Newt sat across from him, digging into your food. Minho usually ate in silence, with the exception of joking around when the others got to the table, so you didn’t mind listening to the din of the conversations happening around you for a little while.

Soon, Frypan joined Minho’s side of the table, already boasting about how well received the stew was. Just as he was about to ask how everyone liked it, and as you were spooning more into your mouth, Jason approached your and Minho’s end of the table. 

“Hi.” He said, entire body stiff, as if unclenching his muscles would make him disappear. 

“...Hello?” You replied. “Is there something you need, Greenie?”

Jason laughed, but it sounded more like he was choking. “No, no. I just— I, um, I was wondering—”

“Cool it, slinthead,” Minho interrupted. “You’re not going to get anywhere with Y/n, here. She and Newt are practically married, even if they don’t know they are.”

With a disgruntled air around him, Jason admitted defeat and left the table to go find somewhere to eat his dinner. 

You furrowed your brows at Minho. “Me and Newt aren’t married, what the shuck was that all about?”

As if things couldn’t get worse, Gally stepped up to the table on Newt’s other side. “Are we talking about you and Newt? Have you finally gotten your clunk together and started dating? Because I’ve been waiting for this for almost two years.” 

“Nah,” Frypan said. “They’re too scared to admit something like that, Gally. You know that.” 

“Yeah, and it’s getting on all of our nerves.” Minho said. “It irritates me more than the Newbies do.”

“Could you stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Newt snapped. “It’s really annoying.” 

The group exchanged looks and you couldn’t help but smile. The rest of the dinner passed, and soon Alby joined you at Frypan’s side. The conversation flowed, as per usual, and you were able to let go of the pain your joints carried as you went back for a second helping and relaxed with your friends until sundown. 

It was no surprise that Newt left when you did in order to walk you back to your room in the Homestead, where he bid you goodnight and headed to his own just down the hall. Just as he reached the door, though, he turned back and walked over to you. 

“Just letting you know,” he began, “The Greenie’s staying on as a track-hoe tomorrow. Alby doesn’t want him doing a trial as a Medjack just yet. But I won’t be there either. Me and Gally have to be in the council hall tomorrow to talk with some of the other Keepers about scheduling. Stay safe, please.” 

You giggled. “Don’t worry, Newt, I’ll be just fine. The most that Greenie’s gonna do is stare at me, and I can’t die from something like that. Plus, I’ll have Zart and the other Track-hoes with me for the day.”

He sighed, almost reluctant to go most of the day without you. “I’ll see you at breakfast then?”

“Yes, you will.” You nodded. “And dinner. Now go to sleep, Newt.” 

With another goodnight, you and Newt headed into your respective rooms to settle in and go to bed, an unusual day ahead of you.

Despite waking up and starting your day with Newt as you usually would, it felt odd to split from him after Frypan served breakfast. It felt odd to not turn to him for casual conversation as you de-weeded the tomatoes and harvested carrots for tonight’s dinner — some sort of fried rice, you remember Frypan telling you at dinner last night. 

Your day passed in relative silence aside from occasional chatter with the track-hoes or receiving orders from Zart. You avoided Jason as best as you could, and it seemed his embarrassment from last night still lingered as he was determined to stay on the opposite side of the field, despite still staring at you when he got the chance. 

Sometime near the end of the day, you’d run out of fertilizer, and as usual Zart had sent you with both buckets to refill them. The trek was definitely boring without Newt to talk to, but you managed to fill both buckets and head most of the way back without incident, injury, or going crazy in the silence of the deadheads. 

However, your luck was bound to run out at some point. 

Just as the rays of sunshine were poking out from the field ahead, you tripped on a particularly large tree root sticking out of the ground. Both buckets flung from your hands as you stuck them out, attempting to break your own fall. Pain radiated from your ankle, palms, and wrists as you landed harshly on the ground, staining your clothes and skin with dirt. 

After you processed what happened and pulled yourself up, you first inspected your palms. Wiping away the dirt, several scrapes and cuts revealed themselves, accompanied by irritated and angry skin surrounding them. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you tried your best to stand, but crumbled when you put weight on your right foot. 

Hissing, you pulled up your pant leg and tried to touch around the area, only bringing yourself more pain as you did so. Figuring out how to get out of here was going to be difficult, especially without abandoning the buckets of fertilizer. After some time, you managed to find a particularly large stick to support the weight you would’ve put on your injured foot, hooked one bucket handle on the crook of your elbow, and took the other in your free hand. 

As best as you could manage, you brought the fertilizer to Zart, who quickly took notice of your condition. 

“What the shuck happened to you?!” He exclaimed as you shifted your weight. 

Looking down at your foot, you sighed. “A large tree root got the jump on me, Zart. Now will you please help me to the Medjacks so I don’t have to use this shucking stick anymore?”

Almost jumping into action, Zart wrapped an arm around your torso and pulled your right one around his neck, helping you along to the other side of the Glade. You were beginning to see now why he usually sent Newt with you. 

Upon reaching the Medjack hut, Clint and Jeff took over for Zart, ushering him away to get back to work. You were grateful for the Medjacks and the care they seemed to take with you. They made sure it was relatively painless for you as Clint examined your ankle and Jeff cleaned the cuts on your palms, keeping casual conversation with you as they did so. 

It was only as Clint was wrapping your ankle — Jeff already having done so with the heels of your palms — that Newt came barrelling into the room. 

“We were wondering where you were,” Jeff quipped as he put away the roll of gauze he’d just used. 

Newt ignored the other two people in the room and came to sit on the edge of your bed. “What the bloody hell happened to you?”

“It’s not like I almost died, Newt.” You told him, but let him take your hands into his to look at. “I was getting the fertilizer from the deadheads and tripped on a root. It’s nothing more than a twisted ankle, I promise.”

“You promised you’d be fine today without me.” Newt corrected you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“And I was. I just lost my footing to a root. I’ll be back up and running in a few days. Right, Clint?”

The boy at the end of the bed nodded, taping the tensor bandages into place. “Exactly. After three days of no work and constant elevation, you’ll be just fine.”

Newt looked back at the boy. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.” Clint said. “I’ll even have Jeff come check up on her twice a day to make sure her foot heals. Okay?”

Newt considered Clint’s words for a moment before nodding. “Alright.” 

Soon enough, the Medjack’s left you and Newt alone in the treatment room. It was silent, and Newt still held your bandaged hands in his, not daring to say a word. 

“Are you okay?” You asked eventually, feeling that you’d studied the boy’s face enough to gather that he was still deeply upset and in thought. 

Newt’s eyes snapped from your hands to make eye contact with you, and you could see the emotion pooling in his dark irises. “I dunno. I know it’s stupid, you’ll be fine, but… you were hurt. On the one day I wasn’t there with you.”

Turning your hands over in his, you grabbed his palms and squeezed. “But I’ll be fine, Newt. Look, I’m still healthy, aren’t I? Breathing, talking. That’s what matters. And it’s not your fault, it was just a silly accident.” 

“I know, I just… the thought of you getting hurt makes me want to go crazy.” Newt admitted. “You being safe is all I care about.” 

Your heart stuttered in your chest as your face warmed. “I… I didn’t know it meant that much to you.” 

“You do.” Newt stated. “You mean that much to me.” 

“Newt…” you whispered. “I think those slintheads were right.”

His face scrunched up. “What d’you mean?”

“I think… I think I like you. A lot more than I realized.” You gathered more courage with every word you spoke. “Newt… I think I’m in love with you.” 

You watched his eyes widen as you spoke, hands still interlocked. Newt seemed to be stunned by your impromptu confession, and even you were surprised by it. Up until ten seconds ago, you were unaware of how big your feelings for Newt were, but now that they were out in the open, it was easy to see as you looked back on things. Your thoughts ran at a hundred miles a second, flashing with the memories you made with Newt and how close you’d gotten over the past few years.  

It took you a second to pull away from the memories and realize that Newt had yet to respond. 

“Newt?” You called out, trying to get his attention. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, we don’t have to do anything about it, we can forget it ever happened—”

“No.” Newt interrupted. “I don’t want to do that.” He adjusted his grip on your hands, stroking your knuckles with his thumbs. “I… I love you, too. I think I have from the moment I met you.” 

Your lips stretched into a wide, blissful smile, and Newt’s expression soon matched yours. Slowly, he leaned in closer to you, shortening the distance until his lips were inches from yours. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

“I’d like nothing more,” you told him, and in seconds, his lips were on yours and your hand was touching the back of his neck and you were both in a state of bliss you could only dream of until now. 

You spent the next few hours with Newt, who sat next to you on the bed with an arm around your shoulders, talking mostly about how you both failed to notice your feelings toward each other for so long, occasionally disrupted by mini-makeouts. When the dinner bell rang, Newt promised to explain your injury to your friends and bring dinner for you both to eat in the Medjack hut. 

When Newt came back, two steaming bowls of chicken rice in hand, the blush on his face was unmistakable. 

“What happened?” You laughed as he passed you the bowl and sat on the bed. “What did they say to you?”’

“They didn’t say anything.” Newt corrected you. “They heard about my hauling ass across the Glade to get here from the council hall, that’s what. And they basically figured us out.” 

“Really?” You fake gasped. “It’s like they’ve been trying to tell us about this for the past two years or something.”

“Ha, ha,” Newt rolled his eyes. “Eat your rice. After you’re finished, I’ve got to take you to the Homestead.” 

“My hero,” you smiled, and Newt couldn’t help but to kiss you once more before you both dug into your meals. 

Once your ankle was healed, it was no surprise the uproar your friends caused when you were finally able to walk to breakfast hand in hand with Newt. After all, they had been waiting years for this.

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[dream-of-the-bitchless]

Please omit my boomer-level skills for bypassing Netflix's screenshot ban because I really need to talk about this line.

Recently, in a Twitch stream, Jayden Revri said that Charles is a Taurus, which, of course, can still be called into question, but supposing that's canonically true, we can safely assume that Edwin is referring to him in this scene. He knows Charles is a Taurus and is checking their compatibility, right?

But wait! Thanks to Monty, we know that Edwin is a Cancer. So, who is he talking about then?

Crystal. It's Crystal, y'all. Please observe her behaviour and tell me she's not an Aries. She's confident, competitive, honest, and impulsive. She's passionate and feels things intensely!

Edwin is investigating Charles' and Crystal's compatibility, which is a very Edwin thing to do, and we love a research king.

Now, I'm not an astrology person, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. However, I'm certain I can make a pretty strong case for this one.

So yeah, do what you will with this information <3

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. however, things don’t go so smoothly at first . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 3.6k

⟢ warnings/tags: abusive parents, james’ clothes are described as baggy on the reader, siblings fighting, fluff then angst

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: my writing's so rustyyyy the dialogue is so off but im so done editing. and this is gonna need a few more parts, i keep getting carried away.

The Potters' house was very different from yours. It was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. Back home, it felt like Grimmauld Place existed under a perpetual storm cloud. Here, sunshine cannot be escaped. The curtains were drawn closed, but light still filtered in from both sides, almost pleading for them to be opened so that it might do its duty of brightening the house.

Another thing you noticed were birds, who sang pretty songs from right outside your window. You can't remember ever hearing any birds outside your home, and there were plenty of trees for them to nest in. In fact, you started to believe that the aura of your house scared all living things away. Realistically, it was probably all of the yelling and screaming.

As you lie in an unfamiliar room and think of all the reasons why you preferred it over your own, three gentle knocks beat on your door. They sounded different than James' quick staccato, and nerves bubbled in your stomach because you couldn't guess who was on the other side.

You took a deep breath, told yourself that you didn’t have to be so on edge here, and called for the person to come in as you sat up. The knock pattern automatically filed itself away in your brain as belonging to Mrs. Potter. She walked in, carrying a silver tea tray.

"Good morning, dear. Sleep well?" She greeted you as she made her way to your bedside.

"Yes, Ma'am." You said politely.

"Oh, please call me Effie," she insisted as she placed the tray on the bedside table and moved to draw open your curtains. You imagined the sunshine saying thank you for finally letting it in.

“I’ve brought up some tea for you. I wasn't sure how you liked it, alas..." Effie waved her hand over the tray.

The tray had the basics: a teapot, sugar, and a small milk pitcher. However, Effie had also laid out various tea bags for you to choose from, along with some warm biscuits.

“Thank you,” you said in awe as you stared at the display. It was a simple tea setting, really, but the thoughtfulness still had you feeling choked up.

"I spoke with James this morning. May I?" Effie gestured to the edge of your bed, and you welcomed her to sit. "He woke Monty and me up at the crack of dawn, insisting that we let you and your brother stay permanently. Even had tears in his eyes. I tell you, that boy has his father’s big heart."

"Anywho, I nearly tossed a pillow at him for waking me up so early, as if I’d even consider an alternative! But I got to thinking, if James felt like we needed convincing, then we better make sure you and Sirius don’t feel any unease either.”

Effie reached for your hands that lay folded in your lap. “So,” she paused a moment to allow you the chance to shoo her off before placing her hand over yours. “I felt it was important to tell you personally that you are welcomed in this home and this family, assuming you’ll have us, for as long as you need us. That sounds like a good deal to you?”

You bit back tears, “Yea- yes. I think that sounds lovely.”

Effie smiled and squeezed your hands, “Can I give you a hug, dear?”

“Yes, please.” you croaked.

Effie wrapped her arms around you, and you let a few tears loose while she couldn’t see you, wiping them away with your thumb as soon as they appeared. The hug felt warm and unfamiliar, and you wondered if there was a time that your parents ever hugged you like this. If they did, you didn’t remember it.

From behind Effie’s back, you watched James waltz over through your blurry vision. He became distracted by the surprise that the bedroom door was already opened, eyeing it before anything else in the room as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Good morning, sunsh- Mum! You’re in here!”

Effie pulled back from you and craned her neck to look over her shoulder at her son, who was standing up as straight as a board in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow at him, sensing his sudden weirdness.

“I was just welcoming Y/N to our home, like we discussed. Are you alright, dear?” Effie tilted her head.

“‘m splendid, Mum.” James said it with a goofy smile, rocking back and forth on his heels.

She drew her eyebrows together and said, "Lovely, James. What can we do for you?"

"Me? Do for me?" James' eyes widened.

Effie shook her head, perplexed by her son’s reaction.

"I'm wondering what brings you here, James?"

"Ah. I was just in the area," James said, doing a poor job at acting casual. "Y'know, the upstairs... area. Uh, so I thought I'd say good morning... Good morning!"

You thought that this must be the kind of thing people face palm over.

“Hm,” Effie squinted at her son, studying him for a moment before deciding to worry about whatever that was later. She turned back towards you, “Anywho, this is your room now, so I hope it's to your liking. We can see about changing these sheets and painting the walls however you’d like-”

“It’s perfect!” You interrupted, looking bashful for doing so, but Effie didn't seem to mind.

“Well, feel free to customize it any other way. Any posters?” Effie offered.

"I didn't have time to grab that sort of thing,” you admitted, and immediately felt stupid for doing so. Effie clearly just wanted you to feel at home, and you felt like you were being a downer.

But if it phased Effie, she didn’t show it.

"Well then, that means we get to go buy some new ones, yeah?"

She gave your hands a final squeeze before standing up, saying, “I better let you wake up and enjoy the tea,” and walking towards the hall.

Effie affectionately patted James on the cheek as she passed him.

“Have you had breakfast, dear?”

“Mum!” James shrank away from her, his face growing hot. “I will in a minute!”

She tsked at him, gave his cheek one last pinch, and made her way out of the room. James hung from the doorframe into the hall to watch her go. When she was out of sight, he dipped into your room and shut the door silently behind him.

James' back pressed against the closed door as he shot you a toothy grin.

"Good morning, sunshine," he repeated.

You can't help but giggle at him while saying, "Good morning, Jamie."

As he walked over you, his smile slightly faded as a hint of sadness crept onto his face when he noticed your teary eyes.

One thing you loved about James was that he never resorted to any of those hollow phrases like "don't cry" or "stay strong" when he tried to make you feel better. Instead, he always concocted the perfect cure for the situation. Today, it was goofiness and a lot of kisses.

James made a big show of acting innocent as he approached. He whistled some tune and looked anywhere but you before he suddenly dived at you, embracing your waist with a gentle yet decisive sweep of his arms. He flung his body into the mattress, dragging you down with him. You yelped and chided him through laughter.

When you landed, you were tangled awkwardly—your body twisted so that your torso was on top of his, but his legs were draped over yours. James' arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you trapped as he peppered kisses on your face. He kissed your cheeks and the corner of your eyes, then your eyelids, effectively kissing away any stray tears.

You were a fit of giggles by the time his lips reached the tip of your nose. Next up, he dipped his head to kiss each side of your mouth before finally capturing your lips with his. You giggled through the feathery kisses he pressed on your lips, and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps as he smiled against you.

Soon, laughter overtook you both. Yet you remained close, with your noses brushing against each other and your foreheads pressed together, as your happy laughter filled the room.

Eventually, James' laughter began to die down. He removed one of his hands from your waist to help brush your hair back into place, it having gotten disheveled from his attack.

You settled down as well, letting the touch of his fingertips in your hair calm you. He took notice and continued running his fingers through your hair, even after it was all brushed out of your face.

For a peaceful moment, you gazed into his eyes, which were filled with admiration and mirrored your own. James watched as a glint of mischief suddenly sparkled in your eyes.

"So," you voiced.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"You've clearly never tried to hide something from your mum before."

"Why would I 'ave had to hide something from my mum before?" James pouted, briefly bringing your giggles back. "Only reason I haven't gushed to her about my beautiful girlfriend," James gave your waist a squeeze, "is 'coz she would have qualms with me lying to a friend."

"Oh, so I guess we better go tell Sirius then, yeah? I wouldn't want to make you lie to your dear mum, I like her." You teased, amused by James' eyes widening nervously.

You've talked about telling your brothers before, but it's something neither of you were quite ready for—you were too fond of the blissfulness you found in the privacy of your relationship.

"Er, I don't particularly feel like getting socked in the face today." James said.

"Oh, come on. You think he'd react that badly?" You carried on.

"I think Sirius punching me would be a mild reaction for him." James grimaced, "He'll probably hex me into the next century. And I get chills thinking about what would happen if Regulus were to find out. Oh, I'd be a dead man. Or he'd put an irreversible curse on my bloodline. It's a tossup, really."

Your smile faltered at the mention of your twin brother, suddenly remembering your situation. You let yourself get distracted by the warm welcome from Effie and James' affection. How could you lay here happily while Regulus is still stuck at that house?

Your expression suddenly grew very solemn as you began squirming out of James' grip. "Where's Sirius?" you asked.

James seemed to choke on his own spit. "Uh, pardon? You're not really planning on telling him today?” Despite his protest, James loosened his grip, not wanting to keep you somewhere you didn’t want to be. “At least let me put my Quidditch gear on, I might need the protective padding."

You had tunnel vision the moment Regulus’ name was mentioned, but you realized what James was saying by the time he mentioned protective padding.

“Not that, James. I need to find out about Reg.”

His mouth formed an O shape as you stood at the foot of the bed with your hands on your hips.

“So do you know where he is?”

“Uh, eating breakfast probably,” James guessed, “in the dining room.”

You stared at him expectantly and after a while of him not moving, you huffed, “I don’t know where that is, James!”

“Right!” James scrambled up from the bed so he could lead you through the house. You could’ve found it if you wandered long enough, but the Potters’ house was fairly large, and you wanted to talk to Sirius as soon as possible.

By the time James had led you to the kitchen, you could see Sirius in the next room over through the open archway. You pushed past James at once.

Sirius was alone at the head of the table, various platters of breakfast food surrounding him. The kitchen was hot when you passed through it, so one of James’ parents must have just been cooking, but they were nowhere to be seen now. Sirius was shoveling some sausage onto his plate when he saw you.

“Sirius,” you said sternly as your hands returned to your hips.

“Look who’s finally up!” Your brother cheered, “Just in time to eat.” He gestured at the seat next to him.

James appeared at your side, and said, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Maybe you should have some before you-”

“Where is Regulus?” You interrupted, ignoring James altogether.

James’ utterance of “Yeah, didn’t think so” was lost on your ears.

With a scowl on his face, Sirius turned his attention away from his meal. His eyes scanned over you, and his scowl twisted into an amused expression. “Nice outfit!” he snorted.

You looked down briefly to see yourself drowning in James’ clothes. Being much taller than you, James' sweats pooled at your ankles. You rolled your eyes.

“Stop it, Sirius. Where is our brother?”

Sirius squinted at you. You thought he was finally going to give you answers when he decisively opened his mouth, but instead, “You should sit and eat. James is right, breakfast is the most-”

“Sirius!” You raised your voice, your hands molding into fists as your arms dropped to your sides.

Sirius threw his fork down with a clatter, “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me why he’s not here with us.” Your pleading voice cracked as you begged your brother for answers, stepping closer to him.

Sirius had a stormy, faraway look in his eyes, as if recalling something poignant. “The only one who can answer that question is him, so you’re out of luck,” he said bitterly.

The simmering anger in your chest started to bubble, rising up to your throat until you were spitting words that you would later regret. “You left him there!” you accused.

“Excuse me?�� Sirius sent a deadly stare your way as he slowly pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Woah,” James tried to interrupt, moving to stand between you two, “Maybe we wanna take a moment and-”

You stepped around James, and his remaining words were drowned out by your raised voice: “I said you left him there. He’s not here because of you.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Sirius bellowed, growing more irritated with you.

“Then why not enlighten me, Sirius!?”

“He chose to stay!" he disclosed. "Alright? I know you think so highly of your favorite brother, but he chose that place!”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and looking away.

You ignored Sirius' choice words of "favorite brother." You weren't going to let yourself get distracted by that conversation, which you've had a countless number of times already. Sirius was sensitive to the fact that Regulus was your twin brother, and Sirius would always just be your brother, no matter how many times you told him that you loved them the same.

“I told him to pack, just like you, and he said no. I told him he had to and he refused," Sirius said vindictively.

“Then you should’ve tried harder!" You snapped, spewing words you didn't mean, "Now he’s there alone. He would’ve come if you would've just tried harder, I know it. This is all your fault!”

Sirius reeled back as if you had punched him in the gut. For a moment, he looked hurt, but then anger overwhelmed him. “How could you say that? You weren’t even there!”

“Because you never let me be! I stayed in my room, like you said to, and was out of my mind with worry. Next thing I know, we’re leaving and Regulus isn’t, and that feeling hasn’t gone away because I have no idea how he is. You should’ve grabbed him and dragged him along! You should’ve-“

“Why is everything my fault!? Why is it what I should’ve done!? You don’t even know what he did!” Sirius' nostrils flared with rage.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how your dear Reggie isn’t as good as you think he is," he sneered. "If you only saw him…”

“I don’t care what he did, he’s our brother!" You shouted, "He should be here. It doesn’t matter!”

Sirius slammed his hand on the table, “IT DOESN’T MATTER!?” he screamed, causing you to jump back. Tears immediately began welling in your eyes. No matter what you did, when you were being yelled at, you started crying. You weren't like your brothers, who could hold stone-cold, emotionless expressions despite whatever was swirling within. It was one of the reasons your brothers did what they could to keep your parents away from you—to Walburga and Orion, emotion was weakness.

Your tears didn't phase Sirius like they normally would have. He was too furious. “You want to know what he did?" he asked harshly. "He watched. He watched our parents torture me, and then he just walked away!"

“What did you want him to do?” you cried, “He- he was probably scared,” you hiccuped, “you- you should’ve-“

“I shouldn’t have done anything, goddammit! She crucio’d me! THAT’S what he watched our mother do. THAT’S what he let me deal with alone. I was on the ground unable to get up for damn near thirty minutes, and he knew it!"

Sirius nearly doubled over, grabbing the table in front of him for balance so hard that his knuckles blanched. All of the yelling gave him a head rush, but he wouldn't relent, "So don’t you tell me that I should’ve tried harder. That I should’ve grabbed him. He doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about him?”

Your hand clasped over your mouth as you sobbed. Your parents were cruel, but the Cruciatus Curse? You couldn’t fathom it. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and bile bubbled up in your throat as you recalled Sirius’ scream from the night before.

Neither of you seemed to have anything else to say. You both just stood before each other in your most vulnerable states. It was a miserable sight—you crying your eyes out and Sirius looking sick as a dog.

Neither of you had noticed James leave until he returned. His parents followed closely behind.

"Snitch," Sirius choked out, glaring at his best friend as a fit of coughs hit him, his throat strained from the yelling. He ducked his head down and screwed his eyes shut suddenly, like the light in the room was starting to bother his head.

James didn't seem to care what Sirius thought of him. He was too busy being concerned for you both. Besides, James didn't really snitch. You two were being so loud that his parents were already on their way. He happened to run into them in their pursuit.

"What's going on?" Effie's gentle voice rang through the room, "We could hear yelling from the other side of the house."

Even though James' mum was being stern, she didn't sound angry or upset. Her voice only carried notes of concern and motherly authority.

Neither you nor Sirius answered her, too busy crying and coughing. Both of you would've probably been too sheepish to answer, anyway.

James' parents shared a look with each other, deciding what to do about the situation through eye contact alone.

Fleamont spoke with a firm voice, "Alright, son, we ought to get you up to your room. I think it'd be best for you to lie down." Fleamont clasped a hand on Sirius' shoulder. Your brother let Fleamont assist him in the walk to his room.

Euphemia moved to comfort you, but James stopped her. "Wait, let me."

She raised her eyebrows at her son, skeptical of the idea that her young son was equipped to handle this situation. But James had already started reaching for you, and like a moth to a flame, you melted into his arms the moment you felt his fingertips graze your skin.

Effie's eyes darted between you and her son, settling on him when her features melded into a look of understanding. A million questions raced through her mind. How long had this been going on? Why didn't James tell her? Did James tell Sirius? But the one thing she knew for sure was that you found comfort in James, and comfort was the one thing you needed right now.

She took a deep breath and decided to trust her son. "We'll talk about this later. I'm going to check on Sirius."

"Thanks, Mum." James let out a relieved breath.

"Just... behave."

"Mum!" James blushed, his hands swiftly traveling up to cover your ears with his palms.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that!" Effie waved a hand in the air as she followed in the direction of Fleamont and Sirius.

James noticed your shoulders had started shaking intensely.

“Lovey,” he cooed. He moved his hands to cup your face, tilting it up to look at him. He was surprised to find that the reason for your shuddering shoulders was not because you had started crying harder. You were still crying, but it was mixed with a bit of laughter.

"I guess neither of us are very good at hiding things,” you said, thinking of how you jumped into his arms right in front of his mother.

James shook his head, a single chuckle escaping from his lips.

“Guess not.”

Your moment of humor quickly passed, your eyes turning sad again as more tears spilled out.

James sighed, brushing away your tears with his thumb before pulling you close to his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on your back, pressed kisses to the top of your head, and whispered professions of love and sweet words in your ear while he let you cry. Sometimes, he knew you just needed to let it all out.

Eventually, you let James’ touch and loving words relax you. When your crying was reduced to a sniffle, James veered back so that you could see his face.

“Let’s go on a walk.”

[shaylogic]

In the video, Revri and Rexstrew spotlight Episode 7, “The Case of the Very Long Stairway.” But there’s history leading up to that moment throughout Season 1. Specifically in Episode 6, “The Case of the Creeping Forest,” when Edwin changes his outfit for the first time — ghosts don’t really take the time to switch up their wardrobes in Dead Boy Detectives. He’s wearing a cozy green sweater and tells Charles that he has feelings for men. Charles puts both his hands on Edwin’s shoulders, facing him, as a sign of his unconditional love and support for Edwin’s sexuality. “For me, I always knew that Charles was the only one that can get through to Edwin through touch,” says Revri. “Edwin wouldn’t want anyone else to really touch him.”   It’s an important moment for their friendship, signifying that Edwin is starting to open up about his feelings and his attire reflects this. “To change Edwin is a big deal because Edwin doesn’t like change,” costume designer Kelli Dunsmore tells Tudum. “He had no collar. He had no bow tie.” Up until Episode 6, Edwin is always buttoned-up and closed off, protected in his tailor-made suit. “Hiding everything,” says Dunsmore.  It was Rexstrew’s pitch to have Edwin wear something different for that episode. “I just thought it could be an interesting way to get Charles’ attention,” says Rexstrew. “It’s like this really innocent and desperate little attempt.” In the scene, Revri chose to add in a line acknowledging the fashion statement. “It felt right for Charles to notice that Edwin dressed up nice,” he says. 

But in Episode 7, Edwin specifically confesses his feelings for Charles, after his best mate descends to the depths of hell to save him. When the boys hug at the end of Episode 5, “The Case of the Two Dead Dragons,” the meaning of Charles’ touch changes for Edwin. “He starts to crave it,” says Rexstrew. “It’s been unlocked by the Cat King (Lukas Gage), and then Monty (Joshua Colley) is more of a teenage crush kind of connection. But it’s all leading up to this.”  While Charles can’t fully reciprocate Edwin’s feelings now, he completely embraces and accepts him. He’s Edwin’s first true love, and he doesn’t push it away. “You kind of leave it open,” says Rexstrew. “Definitely,” adds Revri. Together, they rehearsed over and over again in Rexstrew’s room before filming. They spoke a lot about levels, as Charles is physically higher up on the stairs and Edwin is below, which adds to the vulnerable nature of the scene. “We really wanted to make sure that it was perfect, right?” remembers Revri.  When filming came around, Revri was blown away by Rexstrew’s ability to bring out so much emotion after seemingly holding back in rehearsals. “Well, it was hard. It’s very difficult being in love with you. What can I say?” jokes Rexstrew. The scene also comes after Edwin finds his old bully Simon (Gabriel Drake), who was responsible for Edwin being sent to hell back in 1916. But he learns that Simon was also a closeted boy who was scared of his feelings. “Edwin realizes in that moment, ‘You can’t live your life with regret,’ ” says Rexstrew. “ ‘You can’t live your life not saying what you feel.’ ”   Both actors hope that fans find comfort in Edwin and Charles’ relationship as chosen family. “Even if you’re born into a scenario where those around you don’t accept you for who you are, there are people out there for you,” says Rexstrew. Stream Dead Boy Detectives now, only on Netflix.

Everybody say "Thank you, George & Jayden"

[Colors and bolds mine]

[gays-in-space]

the first time i watched dead boy detectives, i was in shock pretty much the whole time.

like, i got the vibes from the trailer that it was gonna be a lil gay, but honestly i was expecting to be proven wrong. BUT THEN!! at the very beginning of episode 2 we have the Cat King scene, which is so iconic. like i wasn’t expecting the queerness to be apparent so soon, and for it to be so explicit. normally we just get some little hints, but no! not this time.

and then, turns out that edwin discovering that he’s gay is one of the main plot lines of the show!! and edwin is in love with charles! and then jenny’s gay too!!!! and fucking monty!!!!!!!!!!! and by this point there are so many queer characters that i can’t keep up and im pretty much near sobbing because. omg. it is so rare to have so many lgbtq+ characters in one show, and to have such a range of identities explored. it really feels special.

so thank you, dead boy detectives, for healing my soul.

[slasherx]

I'm doing fine thank you for asking, 😌

Also thank you for doing the request of Thomas Hewitt

I also had another idea you can do if you want!

Can you do a Thomas hewitt with a female s/o who can sing like really well (like lana del Rey) and he meets her at like idk when the town wasn't abandoned they used to have like little evens and the s/o sang up and like thats when thomas fell in love

I know cheesy but like aren't we all

Thats good! And yeah, no problem. Tommy's my favorite so it's always a pleasure doing requests for him :3

Content: Thomas Hewitt x fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: The gif below is one of my favorite gifs of him hehe. I also love Lana Del Rey so I'm basing this off the song "Summertime Sadness" by her. Also I do headcanon Charlie/Hoyt and Tommy to be brothers, with Luda Mae as their mom, and Monty as the only uncle and brother to Luda. I know some people have them as uncle and nephew, but I don't think thats the case. Tommy and Reader are both about 18 in this.

• ───────────────── •

Tommy both loved and hated the county fair.

He hated it because people would tell him he should be with the pigs, or with the cows, displayed for people to judge. He hated the heat that accumulated with everyone smushed together in a crowd. He hated that he had no friends to run off with and have fun with, only Charlie could do that with him, but his older brother was worried about girls. He hated that he had to stay by his mama helping sell jelly and the like, he desperately wanted to go on the rides and see the attractions.

But he also loved it because of said rides and attractions. There was a new one this year, where music was being played. He could hear it from his mama's stand. He kept looking in the direction of it, and Luda Mae could practically feel his wanting.

"Tommy, what'cha keep lookin' over there for?" Luda Mae asked.

Tommy touched his ears and pointed in the direction of the music. Luda Mae understood - he wanted to go see the music. "Well, alright. Maybe it'll lighten up your mood some."

Tommy perked up at that. He hugged her and turned to move towards the music. Luda Mae then piped up again. "But you better tell Charlie to come back if you see 'im!"

Tommy nodded before going towards the music. There was a huge crowd both sitting and standing, consisting of old and young people. The stage was made of some dark wood, with red curtains pulled back to show off the full thing. And there you stood, singing your little heart out.

Tommy could feel his knees wobble. You were singing some soft melody, and your bandmates were scattered around you. But he was attracted to you. Your voice sounded like it was touched by God himself. It was beautiful. You were beautiful.

You wore a pastel blue and white dress that cascaded down to your knees, your (color) hair cascading down (to your shoulders/past your shoulders). Tommy was enamoured. You dressed just as you sang.

As you sang, you noticed this hulking man in the back and tried to subtly get a better look. This man had broad shoulders, wavy brown hair that fell past those broad shoulders, and what seemed to be a mask covering his face. He wore a nice green dress shirt with khaki pants. You smiled, he was cute.

Tommy could've sworn he almost fainted. He turned around to see if you had smiled at someone else maybe, but he was the only one in this general direction. He kept some distance from the back of the crowd so he didn't have to hear any insults.

As you finished your song and began preparing to move to the next one, you locked eyes with him once more, singing loud and proud. Your bandmates played your instrumental, smiling to themselves as they just enjoyed playing their repsective instruments.

Tommy stayed for your whole performance, completely in a trance. He hadn't noticed the sun going down and the heat lessenig. He hadn't notice people and families shove past him to leave. All his focus was on, was you. He felt his heart pound at every syllable you sung, every note you hit.

It was poetic, he thinks. But that was soon interrupted by someone grabbing his shoulder. He whipped around angrily, only to be met with his older brother, Charlie.

"C'mon, Tommy! Been lookin' everywhere for ya! We need to go, mama's tired and sold all o' her jelly 'n shit." Charlie spoke loudly over your voice.

He didn't want to leave you. Even though you weren't singing exclusively for him, and had barely knew him much less even met him, he didn't want to leave. You showed him kidness by smiling at him. That is something he'll never forget. He just nodded to Charlie.

Charlie, figuring that was enough, turned and began heading back to Luda Mae's stand. Tommy watched him go, before turning back to you singing on stage. He raised his hand high and waved, before leaving the crowd.

You were on stage and mid-song, so you couldn't wave back. But oh how you wanted to.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[hellojuiceboxbaby]

I saw a post by another user getting into the already prevalent shipping discourse about Crystal and Charles and how she’s “getting in the way” of paynland. Please read their post, they talk about how it’s a load of bullshit.

I want to talk about why Crystal and Charles work, the potential longevity of their relationship and how it doesn’t affect the paynland ship anyway. (And this is coming from a paynland shipper and someone who wanted Crystal to be crushing on Niko lol).

First of all, when I watched the show within 10 minutes (like most people did) I very much assumed that Charles and Edwin were gay for each other. I’d hoped in my heart it was going to be a potential plot line because it was so obvious the boys were in love with each other. Their already established dynamic made it easy to see that.

Then Crystal was introduced and shifted their partnership dynamic. She challenged Edwin in a way Charles never did, ultimately being one of the catalysts to his self discovery the led to paynland actually being a possibility (everyone say thank you Crystal). Edwin didn’t hate Crystal because she was stealing Charles away from him. There’s no doubt in his mind that even if Charles and Crystal were to stay together that Charles wouldn’t still love him and prioritize their relationship, and Charles reassures him of this constantly.

What Edwin is bothered by is having to deal with an inexperienced human, who has no idea why they do what they do, getting in the way of them solving cases that matter to them. Which is figured out pretty quickly when she proves herself to be an asset to the agency and they enter into a sibling like dynamic with wonderful banter I love to see.

What I enjoyed most about Crystal and Charles (if I’m completely honest) is their very out in the open flirting and the way she rejected his advances multiple times but he persisted anyway. Charles gives off a “will go for anything that breaths in his direction” vibes especially when he defends Crystal by saying it’s fun to have someone their own age around.

Also it’s so refreshing to see a black girl being paired with someone who isn’t white (I’m black lol). The bwwm ship dynamic is so overdone in media. In fact the woc x white man dynamic is so prevalent in media today that I just assumed they wouldn’t actually get together. I thought the show runners were just dangling forbidden fruit in my face lol. They do work as a couple because they give off mean bisexual gf with her golden retriever bf to me.

I’m just gonna say it as well because it’s worth thinking about before this fandom gets too crowded and opinionated, but why do you see a woc (especially a blk woman) being in a relationship with one of the mmc and immediately see them as ruining your favorite ship or as causing queer erasure? If we all watched the same show you’d know that Crystal didn’t get in the way of anything. And why don’t you feel that way about Monty of the Cat Kings pursuing Edwin?

Im not gonna dissect paynland as a ship because im so bad at understanding the nuances of male relationships lol as a bi woman. I can talk at lengths about the potential for Niko and Crystal if yous want me to though.

Anyway drink water lovely people <3

[shannonallaround]

When you love your friend's au so much that you write fanfic for it

Based on @punkinspice's @shadouge-family-au ***

Everyone froze as the glass shattered on the floor. 

Then little three-year-old Monty started crying because it scared him, quickly followed his twin sister Mabel, who cried because he was crying. Chase (who was five, almost six) simply looked at the glass mess and said “Oh oh.” 

Amy tiptoed around the kitchen table to reach the crying twins, soothing them with gentle hugs and soft words. She glanced up at her husband. 

Sonic stood exactly where he’d been when the glass had left his hand (by the kitchen sink). He stared at the floor, expression unreadable; a rare moment of him being perfectly still. 

He’s normally fast enough to catch things like that, Amy thought to herself. “Sonic?”

No answer. 

Any hid a worried purse of her lips, instead turning to her oldest. “Chase, you still have your shoes on—can you grab the broom for mama so she can clean up the mess?” 

Sonic then seemed to jerk awake. “Sorry. I’ll get it.” He quickly left the room, not meeting Amy’s eyes. Amy heard the shutting of a cupboard, followed by Sonic returning with a broom and dustpan in hand. 

“Let me help, Dad!” 

Chase had gotten down from his chair and now stood by his dad amid the mess. Sonic looked down into his son’s eyes, and managed a smile—small, but grateful. 

“Thanks, kiddo.” 

Chase chatted away about what he wanted to do after dinner while diligently holding the dustpan in place. He made Sonic chuckle once or twice, oblivious of the tightness in his dad’s shoulders. Eventually, he and his twin siblings left the room to play. Amy stood and took the broom from Sonic. 

“I’ll finish here,” she said, gesturing with her head at the living room. “Why don’t you go relax? It’s been a long day. I’ll join you in a minute.” 

Sonic looked at her, his eyes somewhat distant, but he gave her a half smile and nodded. Amy heard him sigh as he left, noticing him shove his hands behind his quills as he plopped down on their woven pink couch. 

A few minutes and a vacuuming job later (just to be safe), Amy came into the living room and sat beside Sonic. He stared up at the ceiling, frowning at nothing.

If Amy was going to get anything out of him, it was now or never. 

“What’s on your mind, Sonic?”

Sonic sighed through his nose. He closed his eyes as if thinking of what to say. In the end, he gave a defeated shrug. “You’ve seemed on edge for a few days, now,” Amy said carefully. “Ever since our last fight with Eggman.” 

Sonic’s eyes flew open. “I hate that man,” he spat out. He sat up, face scrunched with more choice, but unsaid, words. Amy stared at him, surprised at his strong language. Certainly it was universal knowledge that Sonic didn’t like Eggman (and frankly, Amy hated the man too), but to hear her husband say it outright in such frank terms was… unusual. 

“Are you upset about the forest he ruined?” Another sigh. “Yes… and no.” Sonic leaned forward, pressing his mouth against folded hands. He took a deep breath.  

“Do you… ever think about us as kids?”

Amy tilted her head. “How so?”

“You know… all the stuff we did.” Sonic stared at his shoes. “How… crazy it was that we were kids?” 

Amy took a small breath, understanding his meaning. She bit her lip. “Yes. All the time.” She waited for Sonic to continue, but he went quiet then. He began tapping his foot at the base of the couch—a nervous habit when he was thinking. 

“My earliest memories are running,” Sonic said finally. “I was, I dunno—maybe four? Five? Chase’s age. I didn’t know where I came from or where I was going, and I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. I thought I was fine. I was fine! I couldn’t even talk yet, and I was fine! I just ran wherever the wind took me.” He took a shaky breath. “But imagining our kids in the same position just-!” 

He cut himself off, burying his head in his hands. After a moment, he dropped them into his lap. 

“We were so young.”

Amy nodded slowly. “We were very young,” she echoed. After a moment, she asked “Does that scare you?” 

Sonic’s face scrunched again, but not in anger this time. “I was never afraid for myself growing up. I knew I’d be fine. But I was afraid for Tails, when he came into the picture. Some days I was so scared I didn’t know what to do with myself. And I guess, now… I’m afraid for them, too.” He ran a trembling hand down his face, forcing a laugh. “Heh… Guess things don’t change as much as you think they would, huh?” 

“No,” Amy said, watching him, “I guess they don’t.” She put a soft hand on Sonic’s knee, leaning into him. “But I think that’s a good thing. It means you love them.” 

Sonic sighed, his hand going to his forehead. “I just… I don’t know how to do this.” 

“Do what?”

“Raise our kids! Especially when we’re practically badnik magnets! It’s a miracle Eggman doesn’t send a squadron after us every week!” 

Amy rubbed his knee reassuringly. “Even if he did, you know Tails’ security system would warn us long before anyone was in danger.” 

“I know…” 

Amy thought a moment, then she leaned forward, trying to see her husband’s face. “You know, you know how to do this better than you think you do. You forget that you raised Tails.” 

A husky laugh, almost desperate. “I didn’t know what I was doing then, either! It's a miracle that kid's even alive! I pulled him into so many things without even a second thought, and I had no idea how to raise a kid, I—!” 

Sonic felt Amy’s hand on his chin then. It rested there for a moment, and then he relaxed just enough to let it guide him, lifting and turning his head so he could meet her gaze. Amy beamed at him, eyes soft and gentle. “And look how well Tails turned out.” 

Sonic stared at her. Then suddenly he realized his cheeks were wet, and he went to wipe them with his gloves. Instead, Sonic found himself sinking into his hands. He gasped. 

Amy started as her husband began to sob. A second later, she slid over again on the couch and encircled him in her arms, leaning her cheek against the side of his head, rubbing a soothing hand along his back between his quills. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Sonic coughed out from behind his hands. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Amy whispered back. She continued to rub between his quills. Then she kissed his head, feeling him tremble beneath her touch.

“Do any of us really know what we’re doing?” she eventually murmured in his ear. “We’ve never done this before, and that’s scary. I’ll admit, I worry about our kids sometimes too.” 

She continued as Sonic struggled to catch his breath. “We don’t know what the future holds. But,” she said, a soft smile in her voice, “you don’t have to do this alone. You won’t be alone—I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’re in this together.” She kissed his head again. “It’ll be another grand adventure.” 

A few more shuddering breaths from Sonic, and he gradually began to still. Then he nodded, though his head still rested in his hands. “Another adventure,” he whispered. “Like it’s always been.” 

“Like it’s always been,” Amy nodded affirmative. She moved her hands to hug him around his shoulders. 

They sat there for a few minutes, neither willing to move. They could hear their three little ones playing in the other room. Monty laughed. 

“You know what I think?” Amy eventually asked. “I think that, with our kids along for the ride, it’ll be even more fun. More so than it’s ever been before.”

At that, Sonic finally smiled. “Yeah…” He lowered his hands, revealing it, then he glanced her way. “The more the merrier, right?” 

Amy giggled. “Right!” 

She stroked Sonic’s cheek for a moment. Then she stood and took Sonic’s hand. Surprised, he followed her outside onto their balcony. It had been built directly onto the tree that had become their literal treehouse, overlooking their backyard. Sonic stopped beside Amy. 

“Woah…”

A vibrant explosion of oranges and deep pinks greeted them as the sun set over the distant mountains. They stared at the glorious sight, still holding hands. 

“The beauty still gets me every time,” said Sonic.

“Yes,” Amy sighed. 

After a moment, Sonic cleared his throat. "Sorry that I—" 

“No. It’s ok.” Amy looked away from the sky and into her husband’s eyes. She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you told me.”

Sonic’s cheeks tinged pink as he smiled, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. “Tryin’ to be better.” Then he met her eyes. “Thanks for listening.” 

Amy grinned. “Like I said: we’re in this together.” Then she pecked him on the cheek, which made Sonic laugh and blush harder. He squeezed her hand in return. He pulled her into a hug, his arms around her waist, head resting on hers while facing the sunset. 

“You know… I may still be scared silly,” he said, “but there’s no one else I’d rather be with on this crazy new family adventure than with you.”

Amy now felt herself blush. “Oh, Sonic.” She leaned into the fur on his chest, smiling as the sun ducked behind the horizon. “Me too.” 

[blueywrites]

The Riddles Three

eddie munson x reader, smeagol!eddie (4k)

18+ for smut. praise kink, use of 'sir,' teasing, cockwarming, copious pet names, dnd names, no y/n, eddie is a menace, eddie fucks you while roleplaying, equal parts horny and absurd.

this came about because of a shared tiktok and a group text spiral, so enjoy this absolutely ridiculous smutty thing that was supposed to be a blurb but ended up being 4k. whoops!

thanks to @fracturedarkness, @abibliophobiaa, and @breddiemunson for the convo that began this, and a special thanks to @myosotisa for some killer dnd lines and riddles in here, and for being so repulsed by the idea of Eddie using this voice that I had to write about it.

also it's 1am and I didn't fully edit this, so oh well 🐲

Eddie Munson has never been anything less than himself. This is a man whose presence atop cafeteria tables barely turns heads anymore unless he starts truly yelling. He revels in the reactions he receives when he flashes crazy eyes and devil horns and lolls his broad tongue menacingly at classmates, deserving and undeserving alike. He has some obscure metal reference at the ready in every conversation because he can always find a way to connect it to what at least one person is saying. He’s got entire sections of the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail memorized; sometimes he backs you up against his locker, plush lips skimming your ear as he whispers, ‘How could a five-ounce bird possibly carry a one-pound coconut?,’ and other times study hall will be utterly silent until you hear him muttering under his breath, ‘I fart in your general direction.’ He also has an Alf costume in his closet, though he’s never been Alf for Halloween, as far as you know. Eddie Munson is always himself, and what he is is a fuckin’ weirdo. 

You knew this. And yet somehow, it still comes as a surprise that, as his broad hands span your hips, ruddy fingers digging into your soft flesh while his cockhead finally pops inside as you begin to lower down onto him, your blissful moan is overpowered by the most ridiculous groan you’ve ever heard pass from Eddie’s lips. It’s a croak, pushed up high in the back of his throat, nasally and raspy and so disturbingly unmistakable that your face puckers up in disgust. Eddie’s filling your hole so deliciously, just as he always does— the stretch of his thick cock is hot and tight as he guides you down onto him, slowly splitting you open inch by inch— but you can’t even enjoy it. Because his wild curls are splayed against his pillow, his beautiful eyes are closed in bliss, and his moan just sounded like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings.

 You think maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe you were just so overwhelmed by Eddie’s cock sinking into your pussy that it scrambled your brains, and you merely imagined that your boyfriend moaned like Smeagol. But when you fall flush with his pelvis and he finally bullies up against the end of you, making you whimper despite yourself, the breathy sigh he releases is still far too nasally for comfort.

“Eddie,” you say with a hint of cautious warning, though your voice catches as he starts to move your hips in a circle, pressing insistently with his warm calloused palms to guide you in grinding your clit against his public hair. You can’t help but bite your lip as the feeling sparks pleasure that throbs low in your pussy, and you brace your hands against his chest as your brain blanks and you lean forward. His eyes blink open lazily, his plush lips crooking with a satisfied grin, and you hum your satisfaction as you let him move you on his cock. 

And then he starts talking.

“Our precious is soooooo nice to us,” he says, nasally and high, his contented expression unchanging though you stiffen up immediately. He keeps moving your hips, though it’s not so fluid anymore, quite staccato, really, as you aren’t helping him whatsoever. “So tights,” he continues, ignoring your indignant eyes. “So warms. Don't we love it when we sinks inside?" 

“Eddie, please—” It comes out more like a whine than you’d intended as you thump your fists petulantly against his chest, but maybe you can win him over with honey instead of vinegar. “Please don’t do the Smeagol voice again.” 

You put on your best pout: poking out your bottom lip, softening your eyes, making them go big and beggy. You uncurl your fingers, scratching them lightly down his abdomen in that way you know he loves, and when he shivers and doesn’t reply, you think maybe you’ve won him over. But then he answers himself, sounding thoroughly delighted, pitching his voice lower and more hoarse though still absurdly nasally. “Ohhhh, yes. We love being insides our precious.”

It’s not just Smeagol this time. He’s being Gollum, too. 

You sag with dismay, watching Eddie’s teeth drag against his bottom lip, how his eyes drink you in, roving over your curves in that way that always makes you feel beautiful. The sight of his desire for you is undeniably tempting, as is how he slides his hands back to palm the fat of your ass, kneading your flesh firmly. And his cock is still hard inside you— harder, even, now that he’s teasing you because you know he loves to make you squirm. Despite the way that voice gives you the ick, you decide that maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe you can endure it after all for the sake of your own gratification. And as you start to move, pressing Eddie up against your front wall as you lift up and drop back down onto him, the pleasure does start to build— the flame of your arousal, stoked faithfully by the feeling of his cock in your cunt and his hair against your clit and his pretty face beneath you. 

But Eddie can’t help himself. Smugly, he says, “See? Precious likes it whens we talks to her so nice as she bounces on our fat cocks. You like our cocks inside you, precious?”

Despite the disgust that shivers down your spine at the sound of that ridiculous voice, you can’t deny how Eddie’s words affect you: you pulse around him, pleasure thrumming within you. It makes you lift a little higher to drop down harder against his hips with fleshy smacks. Your dismay at Eddie using that voice has transformed to dismay at yourself as you finally resort to bargaining, brow crumpling as you plead, “Can you at least not put the s’s at the end?”

The smugness drops from Eddie’s face and his fingers still on your ass. The ridiculous voice is gone, but it isn’t a consolation when he sounds so serious. “Baby,” he admonishes, “I have to stay authentic to the character. I can’t just neuter Smeagol and Gollum like that. It would be an insult to Tolkien.” He shakes his head at you as if disappointed, as if you’re the one in the wrong here.

Your hackles raise a bit at that; your eyes narrow, hands planting on your hips as you kneel tall over him. “You act as though it’s an unreasonable request for me to not wanna get fucked by that stringy-haired, raw-fish-eating, brother-murdering gremlin.”

The fact that you’re able to recall so many details about the character off the cuff seems to mollify Eddie. His thumbs trace a soothing pattern against your ribs as he draws his hands lightly up your sides until you soften for him. “Look, babe,” he says, almost sympathetically, “I know what you want.” One hand cups the heft of your breast while the other trails low, stroking lightly across your mound, tickling the skin there. “And if you want me to make you cum so many times my cock turns you stupid, you gotta let me do it as Smeagol and Gollum. I don’t make the rules.”

You scowl. “You very literally do make the rules—” Your grumble cuts off as a sudden idea lights your eyes. “Let me roll for it.”

Eddie’s head tilts in interest, frizzly curls rasping against the pillow, wide dark eyes lighting to match the sudden enthusiasm in yours. He’s intrigued enough to continue speaking to you normally. “Roll for what, princess?”

“Roll for persuasion,” you answer instantly. “To see if I can convince you not to do the voice anymore.” 

Eddie purses his lips, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he deliberates. You rock your hips slightly in an effort to entice him, though you more end up just teasing yourself as your walls hug him tight. Finally, those plush lips stretch in a smirk. “I’ll allow it,” he purrs, adopting the deep smoke of his Dungeon Master voice. This voice makes you shudder for an altogether different reason, and his eyes darken as he sees your nipples tighten. “Dice are in the drawer, Ohazia,” he adds, addressing you by your character name. 

You make to lift off him, but Eddie’s arm quickly wraps around the small of your back as he leans up, bracing a palm behind him, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive skin between your breasts. “Ah, ah,” he admonishes, voice still a purr. “Where do you think you’re going, sweet girl?”

You scrape your teeth against your bottom lip as Eddie’s curls tickle your breasts, and his brown eyes shine with mischief as he turns his head to mouth at the left one. The moist heat of his breath makes your voice waver. “T-to get the dice.” 

You feel Eddie’s lips skim against your skin briefly before he says, “We’ll go together.”

Well, going together apparently means awkwardly shimmying across the bed until you’re close enough to reach the bedside drawer with him still buried balls-deep in your cunt. You root around, first pulling out a d12 and second, to your chagrin, a shiny rock Eddie had found in the woods one time before finally landing on the d20 on your third attempt. Eddie keeps firm hold on your hips to ensure you don’t fall off the bed and break his dick, and you clumsily push off the nightstand to get yourself upright again, disturbing the pile of books already precariously balanced beside the lamp.

There’s a long series of thumps and flutters as they fall, and you both blink at the mess before Eddie says, “I’ll clean that up—”

“Never,” you interrupt, pursing your lips against a smirk as he squints up at you flatly. You shake the d20 between your palms, rolling it in the concave space between his belly button and ribs and cupping your hand over it before he can see. “I know you, Munson. You’ve never voluntarily cleaned your room in your life.”

He ignores your ribbing. “What’d you roll?”

You tilt your hand to peek, gaze flashing between the dice and Eddie’s face. Begrudgingly, you admit, “Thirteen.”

Eddie’s brown eyes sparkle as he looks up at you. “And remind me what your charisma modifier is again.”

“It’s plus two.”

The quirk of Eddie’s brow is subtle but noticeable. “Are you sure?”

Your tone is dangerously even. “…be very careful what you say next, Edward.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as you stare down at him, and his palms tap nervously against your hips before rubbing briskly. “Well,” he says quickly, “you had to meet or beat a fifteen, so…” He sighs resignedly, nearly pouting up at you. “Unfortunately, you have successfully persuaded me not to speak in the Smeagol voice.”

A pleased smile spreads across your lips, your eyes deepening to half-lidded. “Is that so?” you ask, rolling your hips for the first time in a long while. You hear Eddie’s breath catch, your smile widening as his adam’s apple bobs in a thick swallow. “You gonna fuck me stupid now, like you promised?” You grind on him again, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you feel him pulse inside you. With your victory now secured, the embers of your arousal are quick to catch again, reigniting with each roll of your puffy clit against his pubic bone. It even makes you feel playful as you slide your hands up Eddie’s chest to his shoulders, laying yourself flat along his body to relish the heat of his soft skin and the rasp of his sparse chest hair against your nipples. Eddie’s hips tilt to accommodate you, and you thread your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, making him hum. Eddie’s expression is lax, eyes deep and hazy as he watches you, letting you play with him as you swipe along his plush lips with the tip of your tongue before cooing, “Oh, Kaxes the Generous. My faithful bard.”

The broad, manic grin that crinkles the corners of Eddie’s suddenly gleaming eyes makes your pleased smile fall. “What?” you ask baldly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eddie’s calloused palms meander across your back, stroking slowly and soothingly. Well, it would be soothing if it wasn’t for the wicked expression on his face. “Oh, my dear Ohazia,” he says, mimicking your coo. “Didn’t you notice the gulf between us, able to be crossed only by the single rope bridge? And in order to reach Kaxes the Generous, you must make it past the bridge troll.”

Eddie’s broad grin never falters, even as you groan and slap his shoulders, using them to push upright and glare down at him again. “Seriously?”

Unbothered, Eddie’s hands fall again to your hips. “The bridge troll is very obstinate, princess.” You try to maintain your scowl even when one draws slowly from your hip to your mound, his thick thumb trailing down past your curls to the crease below them. “If you want to cross the bridge, you’ll need to answer his riddles three.” Despite yourself, you tilt your hips back to allow him access to you, and Eddie’s cheek dimples as he presses his thumb tighter. “And if you correctly answer his riddles three…” Slowly, as he speaks, he drags it down to your clit; the pressure sparks like bright fire, making your breath deepen. “Then he’ll let you pass.”

You try to cant your hips into his touch, to seek more of that delicious fire, but Eddie’s other hand squeezes at your hip to keep you still. He withdraws his thumb, grasping both of your hips tightly to hold you in place. “Don’t be naughty, Ohazia,” he purrs, and you gasp as he rolls up into you, pressing his thick cock deeper inside. “Naughty girls don’t get to cum.”

You whimper, stilling in his hold. Though you know Eddie is desperate to fuck into you hard and fast, you also know he will edge you until you’re sobbing if you defy him, and you’re far too needy for that right now. “Can I have the first riddle, sir?” you ask, soft and sweet, and you feel him pulse again as you obey him.

“Hm,” Eddie purrs, squeezing your ass as a reward for your obeisance. “I am the beginning of the end, and the end of before. What am I?”

You purse your lips in thought for only a moment before brightening. “The letter ‘e’,” you tell him confidently.

Eddie’s smile is genuine, turning his eyes a bright amber. “Correct,” he tells you. “What breathes, consumes, and grows, but was and never will be alive?”

This one gives you more pause, and in the interim, Eddie murmurs, “Don’t move your hips, okay, sweet girl?” You nod absently, eyes flicking to the ceiling as his hands trail up your sides again to cup your breasts. ‘What breathes, consumes, and grows, but was and never will be alive?’ A breathy hum slips from your lips as he squeezes them softly, then drags his calloused thumbs over your nipples, but you don’t react until he pinches those hardened peaks between his fingers, rolling firmly. 

Pleasure sparks straight to your cunt, and Eddie chuckles when you clench on him reflexively. “No fair,” you gasp, whimpering as you glance down and see the wolfish grin on your boyfriend’s face. “You can’t distract me like that. You know I can’t think when you play with my nipples.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding entirely unrepentant. Mercifully, the answer finally comes to you then.

“Fire,” you say, and the delight in Eddie’s face makes warmth rush through your body. 

“Very good, princess,” he praises you, releasing your nipples immediately. You sigh in relief as he cups your cheek, nuzzling into his calloused palm which easily spans the side of your face. The approval turns his deep voice to silk. “Goood girl. You’re so fuckin’ good for me.”

You whine, brow pinching as you swipe at his thumb with your wet pink tongue, wordlessly coaxing him. “One more,” he promises you. “Just one more, baby. You can do it.” Eddie’s thumb drags down your bottom lip, and as he watches it spring back, you notice then the heaving of his chest; the way his pupils have almost entirely swallowed the brown of his eyes; the sudden hoarseness in his voice. He’s just barely holding on, and the realization of his fraying restraint excites you, sending a shiver of pleasure straight down your spine. 

Eddie gives you the final riddle. “Walk on the living, they don't even mumble. Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble.” His dark, hazy eyes pierce you, his voice a deep rumble in his chest you can feel in your cunt. “What are they, sweetheart?”

The final riddle rhymes. It’s practically sing-songy, making it feel positively childish. But your brain is starting to go fuzzy as Eddie’s hot hand lands on your thigh, rhythmically kneading the soft fat there in a gesture that belies his growing impatience. You try to ignore it, but the knowledge that you’re so close, so close, to having Eddie pound your pussy ‘til you scream has the answer slipping farther away the longer you try to grasp for it. It doesn’t help that Eddie’s thumb is still playing with your bottom lip, either, rasping against the plump flesh as you try to think. Your nose scrunches up with the effort, and your cute little groan of consternation is muffled as Eddie finally slips his thick thumb past your lips and into the wet heat of your mouth. Your groan cuts off in a whimper as he presses it against your tongue, and your breasts begin to rise and fall with your breath as he pulls it out before pushing back in, slowly fucking your mouth with his thumb. You wonder briefly why Eddie is teasing you like this knowing that it will likely only delay your answer, but the hunger in his expression tells you all you need to know.

“Mmm,” you whine, cheeks pinking as you abandon his character name to plead around his thumb. “Eddie,” you beg, and his jaw tenses, his breath going suddenly ragged at the sound of his name so pathetic on your lips. “Eddie, please. I don’t know—”

“Leaves,” he rasps, harsh and intent. “Leaves, just say leaves.”

Your blood rushes hot with arousal and relief at the knowledge of what’s about to happen. “Leaves,” you moan, and instantly, Eddie’s ripping his thumb from your mouth and wrapping his arms around your middle to wrench you over. He flips you while still buried inside, muscles tense and quivering as you gasp, disoriented for only a moment as your back hits the mattress before he’s stuffing you full and fucking you furiously. 

Eddie loses all semblance of restraint, his cock bullying your cunt as you writhe and squirm beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He’d been teasing your flames for so long that the feeling of him finally fucking you makes them grow instantly to a crackling wildfire, consuming you entirely. You aren’t in control any more as your lips open wide, voicing your contentment in helpless whines and desperate whimpers and wild moans as your spine arches in toe-curling pleasure. Your sounds spill against Eddie’s curls as your nails dig into the meat of his back; he babbles his own pleasure into the juncture of your neck, hips snapping almost animalistically against your thighs in great, fleshy smacks that pound and pound and pound without relenting. “Goddamn, baby, so loud f’me, feel so good, oh shit, oh shit, fuckfuckfuck—” 

Eddie isn’t even really pulling out now, just barely an inch before pushing hard and fast into your aching pussy, grinding against that spot inside that makes you see stars. You feel your orgasm begin to surge up from the bottom of you, crackling in the pit of your belly as your moans turn more breathy and desperate. “Oh, Eddie,” you keen, burying your fingers in his curls as the pleasure begins to peak, “Eddie, Eddie—”

“Precious wants my cum, doesn’t she?” Eddie rasps, nasally and high, a throaty exclamation of sheer and utter glee. “She’s greedy, our precious. Wants us to fill her up—”

“Fuck!”  Your scream is ecstacy as your eyes roll back and you cum harder than you ever have before. 

Your body thrums with sparkling fire that rushes red hot along every nerve, and instantly, everything squeezes impossibly tight. Your thighs lock against Eddie’s hips, and your back bows, and your fingers tighten into fists in his frizzy curls, making him grunt as you tug on his hair. Eddie’s hips rut desperately against you twice more before he bites down at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, groaning into your skin as his cock jerks wildly inside you, doing just what he’d said and filling you with his cum. The sting of his teeth and the warmth flooding your cunt only make you quiver more, body squirming where you’re pinned beneath his heavy weight, gasping little incoherent sounds of pleasure into the humid air of Eddie’s bedroom. 

Your orgasm washes over you in waves of bliss until your tense muscles finally relax. Trembling, you lay limp beneath Eddie, brain entirely blank aside from registering the quick tattoo of his heart and his belly pressing into yours in great heaving gasps as he pants against your neck. You hum absently as he nuzzles your damp skin with his nose, kissing you tenderly against the stinging bite he’d left at the base. The sound is just a reflex; you have, indeed, been rendered utterly stupid by his cock. 

That is, until Eddie starts to giggle. 

The husky sound brings you back to yourself, and you pet back Eddie’s mess of curls and hold his cheeks to see him better. You frown when you see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

The look on your face does nothing to quell his mirth. Your frown deepens when Eddie dissolves into uncontrollable laughter, wrenching from your grasp to bury his face between your breasts, wildly unrestrained in his hysterics. When his voice breaks like a prepubescent child and it only makes him laugh harder, you decide enough is enough.

“What the fuck, Eddie?” You hiss, shaking his shoulders until his face finally pops up from where it’s nestled in your breasts. It’s bright pink now, with a vein bulging in his forehead that would nearly make you worried if it wasn’t for the suspicion that he’s laughing at your expense. “What’s so funny?”

You turn as pink as he is when he finally collects himself enough to say, “I can’t believe my Smeagol voice made you cum that hard.” His cheeks puff as he tries to hold back another snicker, but it just grinds out from his nose until he collapses against you again, curls tickling your breasts.

You sputter with outrage at both the humiliation and the betrayal. “Fuck you, Edward! I can’t believe you still used the voice after I passed my persuasion check.”

Though he doesn’t lift his head, Eddie’s hand snakes up to cup the back of your neck, kneading softly in an attempt to settle your ire. You’re outraged to find that it works, and even moreso when he lifts up on an elbow to hover over your face and whisper, “I didn’t hear you complaining when you were making a mess of my sheets, love.”

Eddie smiles manically, pinching your cheeks and meeting your outraged pout with a firm kiss. When he pulls away, pressing one last dramatic smacking kiss to your cheek, you soften despite your grumbles. Because Eddie Munson is always himself: a fuckin’ weirdo. 

And that’s why you love him.

ask💌 | kofi🌼 | masterlist🌱

[lulublack90]

Prompt 14 - Attraction

@jegulus-microfic June 14, Word count 676

Previous part First part

Regulus received a beautifully written email from Effie the following morning apologising for her idiotic son and for upsetting him when she invited Sirius and Remus to dinner. ‘Monty enjoyed their company when we were at dinner in the hotel and thought it would be nice to recreate it. If I had known James hadn’t asked you already, I would have invited you first. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us.’ And she’d signed it ‘Love Effie.’ 

Regulus had read it, again and again, breaking down each part and beginning to form a response. It was harder than he’d thought it would be. He’d never written to anyone’s mother before, let alone the most wonderful mother he’d ever met. No wonder James was so good and kind with parents like Effie and Monty. 

‘To Effie

Dear Effie,

Thank you for your lovely email. Of course, I forgive you, it was entirely my own misunderstanding. It could have happened to anyone. James is a total dolt! Thank you for the invitation. I am looking forward to dinner. Is there anything I can bring? 

Yours,

From,

Love, 

Regulus’

It was short, but he couldn’t think what else to put without embarrassing himself. He closed his eyes and hit send and relaxed back on the bed next to a snoring James. 

He was brushing his hand through his boyfriend’s scruffy hair when his phone pinged. He opened his emails and there was a reply from Effie. 

‘Dearest Regulus,

From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You are a sweet boy, and I am so glad James tried to bury you in snow. 

No darling, all we ask is for your company, we have everything for you all. See you at 6.

All my love,

Effie xxx’

James stirred next to him. 

“What are you laughing at?” He raised his head trying to catch a glimpse of Regulus’s phone screen. 

“Something your mum said,” He answered, twisting his phone out of James’s eyesight. 

“My mum? Oh gods, what have I forgotten now?” James sighed into Regulus’s chest. 

“Nothing,” Regulus had to chuckle, which made James scrape his stubble over Regulus’s sensitive skin. Regulus’s chuckle turned into a squeal, he didn’t see James’s hand flick out and grab his phone. He scrolled through their messages before Regulus even realised what he was doing. 

“Muuuummmmmm!” James groaned. “She’s such a pest. Sorry,” He added as he handed Regulus his phone back, and Regulus wasn’t sure if he was apologising for reading the messages or for his mum. Either way, Regulus wasn’t that bothered. Barty had done far worse. 

They were going to head over to James’s parents earlier than they’d planned because Monty had called Regulus’s number and, after ordering him to put him on speakerphone, so the others could hear, told them about the fun fair that had set up last night and would be opening in a few hours. Sirius and James had whooped with joy and started to excitedly discuss which attraction they would be going on first. 

“I’m just excited about the candy floss,” Remus had confessed to Regulus.

“Same,” Regulus agreed, “And the waltzers. I’m a sucker for the waltzers,” Remus turned to stare at him. 

“Me too. Why don’t we let those two bugger off and ride all the big rides, and we go and have some actual fun,” Remus suggested, pointing a finger at James and Sirius. Regulus watched his brother and his boyfriend messing around. Sirius jumped on James’s back while James spun around as fast as he could, until he tripped and launched Sirius into the air. Luckily, the sofa was waiting for him. Sirius sat up looking a bit dazed before he cheered. 

“Do it again!” And jumped back onto James’s back. Regulus rolled his eyes at them. 

“It’s a date,” He said to Remus, deciding James and Sirius could put themselves in danger and he'd eat sweets with Remus instead.

“Perfect,” Remus winked at him before he went to try and separate Sirius from James.

Next part

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 5

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Something seems off with these dwellers from 32, what's their deal? Time for our favorite couple to find out.

Part 1 Here Part 7 Here Part 12 Here

Part 2 Here Part 8 Here

Part 3 Here Part 9 Here

Part 4 Here Part 10 Here

Part 6 Here Part 11 Here

Norm knew why he was sitting alone at a table of mainly residents from Vault 32, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He’d much rather be conversing with his family or (Y/N). Hell, he’d take even Chet, who he was sure would go on about his infatuation with his sister. He’d prefer that level of awkwardness to the awkwardness associated with playing host because he was the Overseer’s son. He wasn’t cut out for this. 

He looks up from the table and across the atrium to see your eyes locked on him, he offers back a wave to break your concentration on him. You return the gesture with a beaming smile. His heart thumps a little quicker. You’ve had that effect on him lately. He’s not quite sure when his feelings evolved past friendship-maybe back then, maybe in the last couple of weeks- but there’s no denying them now. He was hopeful that you felt the same; some of your interactions with him seemed more than friendly, flirty even. He just couldn’t be sure he wasn’t projecting his desires onto these situations. 

His dad steps up to the stage to deliver his remarks. Thank Goodness. He was eager for any excuse to leave his assigned table. 

“Good evening, and welcome to the proud denizens of Vault 32. We are bonded not just as neighbors but by a shared duty. To keep the candle of civilization lit. While the rest of the world has been cast into darkness.”

Norm can’t help but turn his attention from his father to the Overseer at his table; her intense focus on his dad’s words seemed out of place. What was her deal? 

 “Soon, if our measurements are correct, radiation levels on the surface are dropping fast enough that the next generation, Lucy and Monty’s children, will be able to recolonize.” 

The atrium fills with cheers and applause from those in Vault 33 jumpsuits. The 32s seem less enthusiastic about the concept of recolonization. Was he reading too much into this? He feared the surface; maybe these people did, too. Perhaps he’d fit in better if he were in Vault 32. 

“After 200 years, we don’t know much about what’s up there: desperation, violence, lawlessness. These survivors will need to be shown a better way. I’ll admit sometimes I’m afraid that mean old world will change us instead. But then I look at my daughter, who’s such a beautiful bride, and her new husband. And I am not afraid. I feel hope. To Lucy MacLean. And to this marriage. And to hope!”

The actual celebration could begin with the closing of his father’s remark. The music started, and everyone was soon captivated by the sweetness of the father-daughter dance. His dad and Lucy swayed back and forth to the sounds of “Some Enchanted Evening” emitting from the jukebox on stage. After a few moments, the two broke away. Norm knew what was coming next; this was typical of his family. His dad and sister plead for him to join them on the dancefloor. He begrudgingly concedes it was his sister’s wedding day after all. 

Now, the three embraced and rocked back and forth on the dancefloor. At this moment, Norm was grateful for the bond he shared with his family. Through all the teasing between siblings and the disapproving glances from his father, they loved each other very genuinely, and moments like this one were the manifestation of that. 

As they broke apart, Lucy went to tousle his hair affectionately. He noticed her eyes widen at something across the room as she did. Lucy motioned at someone, and Norm followed her gaze. Please no. But it was already too late. Lucy was closing the distance towards (Y/N). The two excitedly embraced. Hopefully, they were just exchanging congratulations. They were friends, after all. Norm watches as Lucy whispers something to you, and suddenly, the pair is heading back in his direction. Lucy, what did you say? Norm thinks as he puts his hand up his forehead while his dad nudges him with his elbow. 

“I saw (Y/N) by herself on the edge of the dancefloor and thought someone might like to invite her to dance.” That someone was him, apparently, as Lucy offered (Y/N)’s hand to Norm. 

“I’d be happy to,” he replies. Norm was frustrated that his sister had to be one to ask you but wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to dance with you. With a surge of confidence, he takes hold of your hand to lead you onto the dance floor, making a little show of pulling you into position in his arms. He was hoping it impressed you.   

“Sorry about that,” he confesses to you after a few moments, shooting his sister a steely glance as he does. She didn’t need to confirm that he was too chicken to ask a girl to dance. “You know how she can be when she gets an idea in her head—unrelenting.” 

“I don’t mind; I was actually hoping you’d ask. Your sister just guaranteed the odds.” 

Norm smiles, looking up into your eyes. You wanted to be here with him. That was enough. He eases into the moment, focusing on his dance steps and trying to burn every aspect of this into his memory. The way your perfume lingered in his nose, how your body felt leaning into his, the beating of your heart in rhythm with the music—he wants to remember it all. 

The sound of a throat clearing behind him brings Norm back to reality. Please don’t let it be someone else wanting to cut in. Turning around, it was just his father, but he did come bringing bad news. “Sorry, I will need to steal Norm away for a second,” the Overseer states as he places a hand on Norm’s shoulder. “Just one family photo, and I’ll give him back,” he reassures (Y/N) with a wink. 

“Not a problem,” you reply. Norm believes he can detect disappointment in your tone. 

“Find you after.” Norm declares, keeping a loose grasp on your hand as the two of you pull away. He wasn’t ready to let go just yet. 

______________________________

You set up camp by the main stage to people-watch and wait for Norm to return from his family obligations. Initially, you hoped to catch some laughable moments from your neighbors of Vault 33. There was just something about weddings that brought out peoples’ impulsive natures. Still, it was the behaviors of the residents of Vault 32 you couldn’t look away from. 

Not even Norm’s presence back in the main ceremony space shifted your attention. Soon, he was slotted into the spot next to you on stage. You assumed he must have picked up on your body language and noticed precisely who you were observing because, without any prompting, he spoke up and asked, “Is it just me, or are the Vault 32 dwellers just a little  …” 

“Off?” you offer, not giving him a chance to finish. 

“I noticed it first while my dad was giving his remarks; their Overseer seemed to be picking apart every word,” he said, replaying the interactions in his mind. 

Without warning, he hops down to his feet from the stage and turns to you, offering his hand. “Come on.” 

You take hold without a second thought. “Where are we going?” 

“I think we need to explore how the other side lives.”

The two of you set off in the same direction you returned from hours ago, trying to act inconspicuously. Hopefully, the sight of two young people walking off holding hands gave a different impression than the reality of snooping around Vault 32. 

Hands still interlocked, you make your way down the vault corridor, the sounds of the party in the atrium fading into the background, faintly echoing down the metal hallway. As you approach the end of the hallway, the vault door welcoming you to 32 is still open and rolled off to the side. There are no guards; all seems completely ordinary. You look to Norm and nod, confirming your commitment to enter and cross the threshold hand in hand. 

The sight that greets you immediately sets off alarm bells. A breathless “Whoa” was all you could manage. Norm stays quiet, taking it in, only offering a squeeze of your hand as reassurance.  

 Vault 32’s primary outdoor space appears before you in stark contrast to 33’s. The Vault’s wheat crop is laid out across the atrium as a sea of decayed brown, brittle, and rotting wheat. Their Overseer mentioned a blight that had wiped out their supply, but seeing the scene before you was chilling. How did these people survive? 

Continuing further into Vault 32’s atrium, you have to watch your step to avoid pieces of furniture grouped together in small huddles. The lack of lighting makes this task more difficult. Was there no power? Norm provides a steady arm as you two navigate the miniature obstacle course before you. 

“Something isn’t right,” he vocalizes as he helps you avoid the plastic lawn chairs and bedding blocking the small opening to the remainder of the living area of the Vault. You’ve now moved both hands to grasp onto his bicep and forearm as you walked, nervous about the potential jump-scare awaiting around every corner. 

The Vault’s living area seemed worse than the atrium, with equipment and furniture strewn haphazardly into the hallways, tables overturned, and trash littering the floor. Yet you continued. Curiosity drove each step forward while the heartbeat creeping up into your throat signaled to turn back. 

“Hello?” Norm calls out as the two round a corner into one of the disheveled nursery rooms. 

Panic strikes you when you realize he was calling out to what looks to be a person occupying a chair in a room ahead of you. What are they still doing in here?  Panic then turns to horror when you get a better look at the occupant in the chair. The sight of the rotten, decayed skin leaves no room for interpretation, sending you and Norm scurrying to get back to Vault 33 in a hurry. 

“Stay close,” Norm shouted over his shoulder from his position slightly ahead of you. As you returned down the hallway to get out the way you came, you heard the distant sounds of alarms, screams, and gunshots echoing into Vault 32. Something serious had happened since the two had left. 

Norm speeds up and passes the last intersecting hallway before exiting the Vault; however, your escape becomes blocked as a knife-wielding Vault 32 dweller lunges out of the hallway junction in the space separating you from Norm. You react by putting your arms up in defense as the momentum from your body sends you crashing into your attacker, the backs of your forearms making contact with the large knife. 

Your scream stops Norm dead in his tracks. He spins around frantically to see the cause of your distress, seeing you bloodied and wrestling to escape your attacker. He starts back down the hallway to intervene, but the appearance of two more 32s stops him. 

“Get after him. I’ve got this,” your attacker encourages, causing the two newcomers to rush down the hallway after Norm. 

“Keep going. Don’t look back!” you shout, hoping to prompt Norm to flee as you writhe free, creating space between you and your assailant. Your words have the intended effect as your friend springs to action, taking the additional aggressors out of the corridor with him. 

Escaping your attacker's hold, you now need a plan to save your life. Think you need to come up with something, anything! You urge your brain in desperation. 

The man comes at you again, lunging through the space between you, trying to make contact with his weapon. You narrowly dodge in time, ungracefully slide rolling to connect with maintenance equipment piled in the hallway's corner, the contact with the floor winding you slightly. 

The clanging of metal tools falling on the floor draws your attention and will hopefully give you a chance. You pick up the nearest object, a pipe wrench, you think, and position yourself as your attacker comes at you again. From the ground, you lunge at their legs, knocking them off balance, and, using your body weight, pin them to the floor. It all happened so quickly that they had no time to react. The pipe wrench does the rest of the work. With a two-handed grip, the wrench rises over your head, comes back down, and connects. One. Two. Three. Four times. That was all it took to turn a human head into a bloody pulp.

 You breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and your body relaxes as the adrenaline leaves. You wince, now realizing how bad the damage to your arms was. The gashes were deep and still oozing blood; you had enough medical knowledge to know you needed to treat these wounds ASAP lest you be able to use your arms again. One of the hallway storerooms was your best bet. 

___________________________

Norm can’t believe he took off down the hallway without a second thought. You were in trouble and needed help, but now he was in trouble sprinting down the connecting corridor with two, who he would assume were raiders hot on his tail. Maybe he could shake these guys and bring back reinforcements. At that thought, he urged his legs to give him more speed. 

Thankfully, he was quick, leaving the raiders scrambling to catch up as he exited the corridor and hid low amongst the corn stalks. Upon seeing the chaos in the atrium, that was his new plan. The raiders had descended on anyone in a Vault 33 jumpsuit, killing them indiscriminately and with a level of violence he thought was unimaginable until now. 

Norm realizes his best chance at survival is escaping the atrium and hiding somewhere deeper in the vault. He just hoped you were able to do the same. He stays low among the corn and vegetable garden, paying attention to opportunities to make a break. He makes it to the central open space, ducking for cover under a picnic table, hoping for one more chance to clear the room. He has no such luck. A female raider spies him under the table and grabs his legs, pulling him out into the open. This is how I die. The raider pulls Norm up to his knees, intending to silt his throat, and Norm fights back with all the strength he can muster. It’s not going to be enough. Then, suddenly, the raider goes limp, and he can push her body off to the side as she comes crashing down. He didn’t realize what had happened until he was embraced in his sister's arms. Lucy saved him. And now it was Lucy ushering him across the lawn and assisting him into the safety of the bunker. Norm climbs down into the claustrophobic space and turns to do the same for Lucy; at least he can save her. She simply shakes her head–no. She’s not coming down without Dad. She helps Norm shut the bunker door and heads back into the fray.

Norm dwells on one thought in the confided pitch-blackness of the bunker against the backdrop of commotion from above. I let them all down.

[howlingday]

I think Jaune might a Breaking Base Character. I have seen people really like and really dislike him. At this point I don't know if I can find a source that fairly tells me the fandoms overall opinion on him. I mean shippers just do what ever and harem. Why does Jaune have a Bully Arc? I feel like that's kinda dumb and focus should have been else were.

Okay, so...

A Base-Breaking Character is "a character in a series that is loved by one section of the fanbase and hated by the other."

By this logic, I deduce the FNDM is divided into the two sides of people who hate Jaune and people who love him. People who love him are then divided into the two sides of people who write him as a soggy piece of wet toast and the side who write Jaune as a gigachad harem god. On the other side, we have people who hate Jaune because they see him as a self-insert of his voice-actor, Miles Luna, or because he "takes too much screentime" in a show that's supposed to be about girls. This is the best I can figure out from FNDM descriptions, and to be honest, I think the people who cry about Jaune being a self-insert are just as bad as the people who make Jaune into a gigachad harem god.

Jaune having a bully arc sets us up to Jaune's past, present, and future in the show. Monty Oum clearly had a plan for him, though I can't exactly ask him what his plan was for having these episodes in Volume 1 because, well, he's kinda been dead for the past ten years. Jaune's past is explained when he explains how he got into Beacon, with his present shown through his constant bullying by Cardin and by his standing up to him to help Velvet, and his future is presented in two-fold by his aura protecting him from Cardin's attack and by his assisted decapitation of the large Ursa. The point of Jaunedice was to help us better understand Jaune's role as a protagonist, main character, deuteragonist, and or other role in the show.

If Jaune didn't have these episodes, his character would probably been flanderized to being... Steve Urkel, Milhouse Van Houten, and or some other character that serves no other purpose than to be the comedic relief whipping boy. Instead, we have Jaune Arc as the John Everyman character who helps us with the human element of the situation, kind of like... Sokka, Krillin, and or Commissioner Gordon.

I'm just one guy, though, so these are obviously my opinions and everything I say should be dismissed. Because I am an idiot. Thank you and good night.

[moonyswritinq]

I can’t wait to read your fics! Your writing is awesomeeee!

Can we know whatchu got in the inbox already plsssss?

(Btw I just discovered your blog but it’s so cooooool!)

😍

* REQUESTS ARE CLOSED FOR NOW ! *

thank you so much! it really means a lot to me to hear that <3

and for sure, I'll tell you what I got, in no particular order. I've written what the ship is, the form it's going to be written in—if it's decided (which can be subject to change if you have opinions on it)—, context to it and its status if it's started. I also added some projects that I haven't had requested but are working on, just in case you are curious about that (because I realised I had not updated about them for about a year, so sorry).

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST, REQUEST RULES

Dead Boy Detectives

Charles Rowland:

Charles x gn reader, headcanons and oneshot — based on the song 'So American' by Olivia Rodrigo : finished

Charles x gn reader, headcanons and oneshot — reader is short and alive

Charles x male reader, oneshot — Charles pines for reader and doesn't know how to confess his feelings

Charles x gn reader, headcanons — just cute headcanons : just started

Charles x gn reader, headcanons and oneshot — established relationship, alive reader who is psychic/has powers

Charles x male reader, headcanons and oneshot — Charles with an s/o who is European (prob Italian)

Charles x alive! gn reader, oneshot — how Charles would react to Crystal and Niko's roomate (reader) getting hurt on a case

Charles x alive! gn reader, oneshot — Charles is worried the reader will get hurt if they help on cases, so in retaliation they stubbornly put on loads of iron jewelry to keep him from stopping them

Edwin Payne/Paine:

Platonic Edwin x sibling! gn reader, oneshot — reader has been wandering the earth as a ghost in search of their brother, and accidentally run across him in a small town in America : finished

Platonic Edwin x gn reader, headcanons and oneshot — reader is a witch and Edwin does not trust them in the beginning, but they end up with a sibling relationship

Edwin x psychic! alive male reader, headcanons and oneshot — reader is the opposite of his partner Edwin; energetic, outgoing, impulsive, and often gives him ghost heart attacks trying to prevent him from dying

Monty the Crow:

Monty x gn reader, prob oneshot — non-native reader (prob French) that struggles with english and Monty thinks it's cute/reassures them

Monty x male reader, headcanons and oneshot — vampire gothic reader who shows affection in strange ways and loves to listen to Monty talk

Monty x gn (maybe male) reader, oneshot — painting Monty's nails black in a tender and intimate scene

Monty x ghost!gn reader, oneshot or headcanons — Monty goes after the wrong ghost

Monty x male (or genderfluid) reader, oneshot or headcanons — Monty has a crush on reader but feels guilty because of Esther's plan

Thomas the Cat King:

Thomas x male reader, oneshot — enemies/rivals to lovers where reader is more of a dog person so you know it's going to be lots of tension : just started

Thomas x ftm reader, prob oneshot — a fallen angel reader who got hurt and gets reassurance and help from The Cat King

Thomas x male reader, prob headcanons — reader is stoic and ace, yet not sex-repulsed, but The Cat King has to work differently to gain his affections than through his sexuality

Thomas x gn reader (or x Edwin), oneshot — a poor soul narrowly avoided Esther's capture and takes refuge in The Cat King's palace

Thomas x male reader, oneshot or headcannons — enemies to lovers with the Cat King and the Dog King (reader)

Thomas x mage!gn reader, oneshot — the reader is Edwin's descendant and helps out on cases, always thinking about the two ghosts and never about themselves. The Cat King notices this and helps them unearth some repressed desires

Painland/Payneland:

Charles x Edwin, prob oneshot — friends to lovers in a non-modern AU where they didn't die

Charles x Edwin, oneshot — Charles realises his feelings earlier and says he loves Edwin back in that scene

Edwin / The Cat King:

Edwin x Thomas, oneshot — Edwin finds himself paying a lot of attention to cats in London, though he hasn't figured out why, which is something The Cat King notices and decides to send him a little something to remind Edwin of him

Edwin x Thomas, oneshot — the rest of the Detective Agency find out about Edwin's relationship with The Cat King and chaos ensues

Miscellaneous:

Dead Boy Detectives x male reader, oneshot — reader has powers and works with the detectives on a case

Poly Edwin x Charles x gn reader, headcanons and oneshot — established relationship with fluffy moments between the three : may not be written (don't love poly but we'll see)

Dead Boy Detectives x supernatural!male reader, headcanons — the boys get a crush on the feminine presenting supernatural being and then finds it out he's a man

Platonic! Edwin x gn reader x Thomas, oneshot — part two of Runs in the Family, The Cat King finds out Edwin has a sibling and shifts his attention : may not be written (there will be NO incest)

Lord of the Rings

Legolas Greenleaf:

Legolas x male reader, oneshot — reader and Legolas drink way too much at a pub, ignoring any onlookers and opting to share a dance together : not requested

The Marauders

Regulus Black:

Regulus x ftm reader, oneshot — fluffy scene, maybe dysphoria comfort

Regulus x male reader, oneshot/series — academic rivals to lovers that resolves with a lot of tension at a Slytherin party : not requested, almost finished

The Maze Runner

Newt:

Newt x male reader, prob oneshot — Newt is very protective of reader, could be in the Glade or in the Scorch Trials or in the Last City

Newt x ftm reader, headcanons and oneshot — best friends to lovers and everyone in the Glade knows about them

The Umbrella Academy

Male Original Character, series — with a charismatic & overdramatic who flirts with everyone, multiple ships : not requested, but a long work in progress

Outer Banks

JJ Maybank:

JJ x male reader, oneshot — reader is a surfer and manages to impress JJ enough to get invited to a party, where they play truth or dare and silly things happen : not requested

Sherlock

Sherlock Holmes:

Sherlock x male reader (or oc), oneshot — reader is a genius, autistic, and a cat person, and help Sherlock with one of his cases, thus earning his attention immediately : just started

Star Wars

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

Obi-Wan x male reader, oneshot — part two of Caught in the Moment, which would be the aftermath of them finding out about Obi-Wan and the reader's relationship during a joint training session

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson:

Eddie x gn reader, headcanons and oneshot — shy reader who needs to let loose, Eddie takes it upon himself to show them a good time and they really come out of their shell

Eddie x male reader, oneshot — reader stumbles onto Eddie's magasins which are bookmarked with people that look suspiciously like reader, so gay confession ensues : may not be written (original request too lewd so I changed but don't know if I'm inspired enough to write it)

hope this helps if you want to request something or just to see what's to come in the near future :) you guys have really put me to the test and to work and I appreciate it more than you can believe. if you cannot see a request you've made her then I will not write it, sorry (prob bc it went against my rules or was too sexual).

if you want to encourage me to write faster/more a good way is to read, like, reblog, and comment what I have already written. I loooove feedback and encouragement