#that is what a fruity puppet sounds like

[awakentrashpanda]

I mean it’s not untrue

It's for you!

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

can you do one where kylian can’t stop touching reader?

Clingy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — The one where he can't let you go

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 5.2k

Warnings! FLUFF, Drunk!Kylian, he's super cute and sweet in this one, suggestive words but no smut, special Ashraf Hakimi appearance, I think that's it

It's 2:27 AM and you're getting tired.

You glance at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time, rereading Kylian’s last text from hours ago: "Don’t wait up, bébé. I’ll be home late. Love you."

You huff, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debate texting him again. You trust him completely, he’s out with Ashraf and some of the other guys on the team—but it's getting really late and he's usually home by now.

You sigh and toss the phone aside, deciding to just close your eyes and wait for him to get home.

The TV plays softly in the background, the sound filling the quiet living room as you lay curled up on the couch, wrapped in one of Kylian’s oversized hoodies. The faint smell of his cologne lingered on the fabric, giving you the slightest comfort as you fight the pull of sleep.

Just as your eyelids start to droop, a sharp knock at the door jolts you awake.

Frowning, you sit up.

Kylian has his keys—he wouldn’t knock.

Your heart skips a beat as you approach the door cautiously, the soft glow of the hallway light spilling through the crack underneath.

The knocking grows louder, and you can hear a muffled voice saying something, but you can't hear what it said.

Then the person knocks again.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should answer it, and then you hear that voice again.

This time it's louder and clearer.

"Y/N! Come on, open up! He can’t walk!"

Ashraf Hakimi.

Confused, you pull the hoodie tighter around you, shuffling closer to the door and peering through the peephole. On the other side, you see Ashraf Hakimi holding a stumbling, clearly wasted, Kylian upright.

You quickly undo the lock and yank open the door.

“Thank fuck,” Hakimi exhales, voice heavy with relief and exasperation the second you pull the door open.

He looks as though he’s just run a marathon, his expression caught somewhere between amused and desperate, clearly eager to pass Kylian off to you. His hand tightens briefly on Kylian’s shoulder as if to keep him upright for just a few more seconds.

“Kylian?” you ask, your voice gentle but laced with confusion, eyes flicking between the two of them.

At the sound of your voice, Kylian’s head lolls forward like a puppet with its strings cut, only to jerk back up a moment later, his eyes brightening as he zeroes in on you.

“Bébé!” he cries out, his tone so boyishly elated it makes your heart clench, the way it always does when he looks at you like you hung the stars. Your name slurs off his tongue, a little wobbly, but it’s accompanied by the sweetest, most dazzling smile that spreads across his face like a sunrise, all teeth and crinkled eyes.

Your stomach dips in response, a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t quite fight. For a moment, you forget the situation entirely, caught in the spell of how devastatingly soft he looks right now.

But before you can say another word, Kylian shrugs out of Hakimi’s grip with an unsteady lurch, his body tilting as though gravity itself is trying to take him down. He stumbles toward you in a half-drunk stagger, arms already reaching out like he’s afraid you might disappear.

You barely manage a surprised gasp as he throws himself at you, his weight nearly knocking you off balance. His arms wrap around your neck in a vice-like grip, his broad frame warm and solid against you despite the way he sways.

He smells like the club—of sweat, alcohol, and something fruity—and you don't even have to look at him to know that his skin is hot, flushed from the alcohol that’s coursing through his body like molten lava.

You can feel the heat of him, seeping into you through the thin layer of fabric between you.

Then he presses a kiss to your hairline—a messy, clumsy press of lips that lingers far too long to be neat but feels oddly reverent nonetheless.

“Je t'aime, bébé, tellement” he mumbles, the words thick with alcohol and affection as they spill against your temple, his breath warm on your skin. “I missed you so much. I’m home.”

His voice is soft, almost childlike, and it strikes something tender in you. Your heart melts all over again, the tension in your body slipping away as you sigh and hug him back.

“I love you too, baby,” you murmur, your tone light but edged with concern as you adjust your grip around his waist, steadying him against you.

You glance over his shoulder to where Hakimi stands, his arms crossed as he chuckles and shakes his head at you. "The man's in love,” he says with a snort, as though that explains everything.

You frown, slightly more concerned now than confused. “Did something happen?” you ask, brows furrowing as your eyes narrow at Hakimi. “How drunk is he?”

Hakimi shakes his head, an expression that’s caught somewhere between amusement and frustration crossing his face. "He's been asking for you all night," he tells you, a note of apology creeping into his tone. "And I’m pretty sure he’s more gone than he should be. We tried to get him to eat, but…” He trails off, hands lifting in a gesture of surrender that’s both helpless and fond.

You sigh, eyes flicking to where Kylian nuzzles against you, his grip as tight as ever despite the fact that his eyes are already drooping in the middle of a long exhale, his head lolling back into the curve of your shoulder. His arms tighten around you again in an uncoordinated jerk, his mouth finding your neck for another sloppy kiss.

“Alright. Thanks for briging him home” you reply, nodding, lips pressing into a thin line as you meet Hakimi’s gaze. “Are you okay to drive? Do you want me to call you an Uber?”

Hakimi’s smile is quick and bright, his mouth curling at the corners as he waves you off. “It’s fine,” he replies with a quick headshake. “My driver is waiting outside. But I’ll call you tomorrow to check in, yeah?” The question is directed at you but his eyes move to Kylian.

You nod, smiling softly, "Yeah, okay.”

“Alright, goodnight,” he calls out, tipping his chin at you both.

The front door shuts behind him seconds later, and you shift Kylian more fully into your arms as you turn to carry him inside.

“Come on, baby, let’s get you inside.”

Kylian doesn’t reply, just nuzzles his face further into the crook of your neck, his lips finding your skin and pressing a kiss there, the stubble on his cheek scratching you gently.

You make it to the couch without any mishaps, sinking onto the worn cushion with him still in your arms, his heavy weight solid against you. You hold him there for a few minutes, running a soothing hand up and down his back as he shudders, his whole body vibrating with the force of his emotions.

“Hey,” you try to reassure him, your tone soft and calm, “what happened?”

“Just…just so happy,” he mumbles after a minute, his tone utterly euphoric. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you tell him again, smiling as you tip your head to meet his eyes. They’re glassy and bright, swimming with emotion, and you feel a little tug in your chest.

“I know,” he breathes out, smile softening. “I just… I miss you when we’re apart, okay? That’s all. I'm sorry I'm-I'm always g-gone.” He slurs and hiccups as he says the last part.

Your heart tugs in your chest, and you nod, reaching up to smooth his hair. “I know, it's okay” you tell him. “I miss you too.”

He hums in response, the noise soft and low in his chest. For a moment he simply nuzzles his cheek against your palm, his eyes drifting shut as he relaxes back into your arms.

But then a few seconds later, his eyes flutter open again. He's still smiling at you, his mouth tipped up in a goofy grin. “Bébé,” he murmurs again, voice husky and affectionate, his eyes squinting adoringly at you.

“Yeah?” you prompt after a minute, because he just stares at you for long seconds like he can’t look away.

“T'es vraiment belle, tu sais? I'm so lucky.” His voice drops, grows quiet as he speaks.

You feel a flutter in your chest, but then you shake your head, your lips twitching into a smile. “Kylian, bébé, you’re drunk, let’s go to bed” you say instead, dodging the topic.

Kylian’s face scrunches up for a moment as though he doesn’t understand what you're saying. Then his eyebrows rise, and his mouth falls open.

He looks affronted, the picture of scandalized drunkenness. “Non!” he protests, voice loud and outraged as though you've suggested something truly heinous. “I don’t wanna sleep! I wanna…” His brows furrow. He frowns for a moment, as though he can't remember what he wants.

Then his eyes light up. “I wanna fuck you,” He rasps the words against your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck with another long exhale.

He tries to move his mouth up to yours, but misses by a good few centimeters, his lips pressing against the hollow of your throat instead.

Your breath catches at the feel of his mouth on you, his warm lips dragging against your skin.

But you shake yourself out of the daze that threatens to pull you under at his touch, reaching down to cup his chin and tip his head back until he's staring up at you once again. His eyes are glazed, his cheeks pink, and his lips look swollen.

He looks like he wants to devour you whole.

But instead of giving in, you try again, your smile soft but firm. “Baby, you're drunk,” you repeat.

He shakes his head. “Non! I'm not” He repeats his protest, his voice adamant and thick with a slur. "I just…” He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes drop from yours to stare at your mouth.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips in an unconscious gesture that makes your stomach flip in your abdomen. Then his eyes move back up to yours and his face crumples, the look of pure distress on his features making you chuckle.

“Bébé, s’il vous plaît?” he begs. “J'ai besoin de toi. Je suis tellement…” His voice is anguished, like he's holding himself back. the strain in his tone making your breath catch. “I want you so bad, tresor,” he slurs. “so bad.”

He leans forward then, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, his eyes dark and intense as they find yours.

“Je t'aime tellement, it hurts, bébé,” he confesses, his words a messy slur of French and English that make your breath catch. He's not making any sense but you understand him.

You nod, but his arms tighten around you, and he nuzzles your neck, planting sloppy kisses along your jaw. "I love you, you know that? You’re my everything. Mon cœur."

"Yes, I know," you say, cupping his face to look him in the eye. His chocolate-brown gaze is glassy, but the sincerity in his words melts you. "I love you too, but you need water. And maybe food. Come on, let's get you something to eat. "

His brows draw together at first, a flicker of thought crossing his face, but then a wide, knowing smirk spreads across his lips, lighting up his features in a way that makes your heart stutter. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with heat. His gaze, dark and smoldering, locks onto you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “I am hungry,” he continues, leaning just a little closer, his tone laced with wicked intent. “For you.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh, though the way your lips twitch betrays your amusement. “Kylian…” you begin, your voice edged with a mix of exasperation and fondness.

“Oui?” he interjects smoothly, cutting you off before you can even finish. His eyes, impossibly large and impossibly dark, seem to glitter with mischief as he looks at you, completely unfazed by your scolding tone. For a moment, you falter, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his expression.

“Come on,” you manage at last, your voice softening despite yourself. You shake your head, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “Let’s get you food first, then we’ll get you to bed.” You’re firm but your voice is more gentle than you intended, your gaze soft on him.

Kylian beams up at you like you’re the sun itself, and nods, his expression serious as he tries to pull back. But he ends up swaying a little, his legs tangled in yours and his arms around your neck. His eyebrows draw together, and he looks a bit dizzy for a minute.

But then he swallows hard and tries again, managing to untangle himself with a huff. This time, his smile is sheepish when he meets your eyes. “Whatever you say, bébé.”

“Okay,” you say with slight chuckle. You shift out of his arms, standing as you offer him your hand.

Kylian takes it with a warm smile, rising to his feet unsteadily. The action seems to take a lot out of him—he staggers a little on the way up, his knee bumping your thigh. And when he’s finally standing, his hand grips yours tight, as though he needs your support to keep himself upright.

You nod at him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before leading him into the kitchen.

He trails behind you like a lost puppy, following you without question and looking vaguely disoriented whenever you glance back at him.

When you reach the kitchen, you slide onto one of the stools, gesturing for him to take the one across from you.

“Sit down and let me get you something,” you instruct. You nod at the stool opposite, watching as he lowers himself into it, his movements slow and clumsy.

“Merci, bébé,” he mumbles as his back hits the stool, a look of relief crossing his face.

You smile at him warmly as you turn toward the fridge. “You’re welcome,” you tell him, opening the door to peer inside.

He's silent for a minute, watching you with a sort of childlike fascination. Then, when you bend down to pull out the eggs, his voice calls out again.

"Nice ass,” he says, his tone full of appreciation. "You have the best ass." He slurs the words, sounding more than a little drunk and awed.

You let out a startled laugh at that, your hand stalling in its reach for the pan. Your head tips up to meet his gaze, your smile stretching wide across your lips.

"Thank you," you tell him with a chuckle, cheeks flushing lightly at his praise.

But he just laughs, his face alight with a radiant grin. His voice takes on an almost conversational quality, like you're not standing in your kitchen at 2:53 in the morning talking about your ass. “Do you know how many times I've jacked off to it?” he asks, sounding utterly sincere. His brow furrows. “Maybe hundreds?”

Your breath catches, and you let out another laugh, a little more helpless this time. Your body flushes, heat rising in your cheeks as you fumble a bit with the pan, your gaze darting to his to gauge his reaction. His eyes are wide and earnest, his grin still soft on his face as he watches you.

You shake your head, the motion a little helpless. “Kylian,” you say again, letting out another laugh as you try to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.

But instead of relenting, he just grins harder, his expression one of pure adoration. “What? It's the truth, bébé!” He leans forward, his elbows hitting the counter as he braces his body with his arms, his gaze still fixed intently on you. “You're so beautiful, I just want to eat you up,” he mumbles then, his tone filled with a thick slur and a wealth of affection.

Your face burns, and you try to look away, but it's hard to ignore the way his voice makes you feel. Like you're the only person in the world.

“Baby…” you try to chide him, but he's having none of it.

“I’m serious,” he protests, his brow furrowing in a scowl as he slides off his stool. He sways a little as he makes his way over to you, but you barely have time to register his movement before he's sliding his arms back around your waist, his chest warm against your back. “You have no idea, do you?” he asks, his breath a gentle caress on your neck as his lips find the slope of your shoulder.

Your stomach tenses under his grip, but your hands pause in their reach for the eggs, your body leaning back into his. “No idea about what?” you murmur softly.

His arms tighten around your middle, squeezing you gently against him as his nose nudges your hair out of the way. You can feel his breath against your neck as he inhales, his lips skating across your skin with a featherlight touch.

“How gorgeous you are,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice warm and thick. He exhales again, the air drifting against your skin in a caress that makes your whole body shiver. “How much I love you.”

You turn in his arms then, reaching up to cup his cheeks with your palms. He looks down at you, his dark eyes soft and fond, his features more boyish than anything else right now.

You smile up at him, running your thumbs over his cheekbones in a soothing stroke. “I know,” you say, your voice soft, but firm. “I love you too. So much.”

A brilliant grin spreads across his face at your words, his gaze going soft with adoration as he gazes down at you. “Je t'aime,” he whispers, his tone full of conviction and emotion. “Plus que tout.” His eyes meet yours, and you can see the sincerity, his feelings plain on his face.

Then his arms are wrapping around your back, pulling you tight against him.

“Plus que tout,” you repeat, nodding as you lean up on your toes to kiss him.

He meets you halfway, his mouth moving over yours in a warm, wet kiss that makes your heart flutter in your chest. His lips are soft, and gentle, and they move against yours in a kiss that’s more affection than anything else.

Then you're pulling back, and he's letting out a long exhale, as though the act of breathing itself is exhausting.

You glance up to find his eyes still closed, a look of utter contentment on his face. He doesn’t look drunk anymore; he looks like he's floating.

But then his eyes blink open, glazed and in love making you smile at him, feeling your heart nearly explode at the love you have for this man. “Salut,” he murmurs softly. His hands cup your cheeks again, tilting your face up toward his as he leans down to press another kiss to your lips. “You're mine.”

You nod, smiling up at him again as you slip your arms around his waist. “Yes I am,” you repeat. “Now sit down so I can get you some food.”

Kylian nods, his smile still soft on his lips as he does as you ask, sliding back onto the stool he vacated earlier.

You turn to the stove then, pulling the eggs onto the counter and moving to the fridge for milk as he stares after you with wide, affectionate eyes.

You work quickly, but efficiently, moving through the motions of making him scrambled eggs without a hitch. It's not hard, and in a matter of minutes, you've got a plate of fluffy yellow eggs slid in front of him along with a glass of milk.

He grins at you, a bit more subdued this time as he digs in. His eyes still follow you around the kitchen as you move, but there’s a hungry gleam in them now that’s more interested in the food than anything else.

You smile at that, taking a seat on the stool next to him as you watch him eat. “How’s that?”

“Mmm,” he mumbles around his mouthful of eggs, nodding, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he swallows. “That’s really good. Merci, bébé.” He smiles, grateful.

You hum in response, smiling softly as you nod back at him.

His shoulders sag a little as he eats, but when he finishes, he still looks a little unsteady as he pushes the plate away. His mouth twists up into a sheepish grimace. “You're the best cook. Never leave me,” he mumbles, the last part coming out thick and slurred.

You laugh at that, leaning over to take his plate. “I won’t,” you reassure him. “Not unless you leave first.”

His eyes dart towards you with shock, as if offended you would even suggest such a thing. “Jamais,” he replies, his voice full of a fierce denial.

“Okay,” you murmur, your voice gentle, barely above a whisper. Your hand reaches out, fingertips brushing softly over his hair, gliding across his scalp with a touch so light it feels like a caress. “You ready to go to bed now?”

He nods immediately, his answer quick and eager, as though the very idea of rest, as long as it’s with you, is the best thing he’s heard all day. His lips curve into a bright, unrestrained smile, one that lights up his whole face. “Oui,” he agrees, his voice filled with quiet enthusiasm. “Only if you're coming too.”

Your heart warms at his words, and you offer him a small, reassuring smile. “Of course,” you say simply, extending your hand to him.

Kylian doesn’t hesitate. His smile grows wider, impossibly so, as he reaches for you, his fingers slipping into yours with a natural ease. He holds your hand firmly, as he pushes himself to his feet.

This time, he manages to stand without much trouble, though his movements are still clumsy, a slight stumble here and there. But you’re there to steady him, your hand leading him gently out of the kitchen, guiding him down the hallway to your shared room.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost hesitant, like he’s laying his heart bare with those few words. They hit you squarely in the chest, a rush of emotion tightening your stomach and twisting your heart. He's been saying it all night but this time it’s almost too much to bear.

Your fingers tighten around his in response, a small squeeze that says everything words can’t. “I love you too,” you reply, your voice just as quiet, just as honest. “But let’s get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, trésor,” he answers without hesitation, his head dipping slightly as he leans into your touch. There’s a tenderness to his movement, a reliance, as though your presence is the only thing keeping him steady.

You nod, saying nothing more, and continue guiding him, step by step, until you both reach the sanctuary of your bedroom.

As soon as you open the door, Kylian all but collapses onto the bed, his body sinking into the mattress like it’s a cloud ready to catch him.

He stretches out across the sheets, limbs sprawled in utter contentment, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. It’s a sound of pure relief, one that fills the room as you watch him settle, his smile still lingering even as his eyes flutter closed.

He looks so relaxed and peaceful it makes you feel bad for the words coming out of your mouth, but you say them anyway. “Babe, you have to change.”

“Non, bébé,” he groans, his head rolling to the side as he opens his eyes, a sliver of dark brown peeking out from under thick lashes. “I’m good,” he mutters. His tone is low, like even the act of speaking is a chore. “Sleep now.”

You smile softly at that, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “You can sleep, just let me help you get out of these first, okay? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in the morning.” You’ve seen him before when he passes out drunk in his clothes; it’s not pretty.

His eyes crack open a little wider at that, and his mouth drops open in a soft protest. But then a slow smile spreads across his features, a soft sound of agreement escaping his lips. “Okay.” His head tips back, eyelids falling shut again as he raises his arms above his head.

“Good,” you say quietly, your hands moving to strip him of his clothes.

He’s easy to undress, not putting up much resistance as you slide his shirt up and over his head. His undershirt follows soon after, and you pause, just for a moment, to appreciate the hard planes of his torso.

He really is gorgeous, you can’t help thinking, your gaze drinking him in. Tall and lean, with broad shoulders that taper down into toned hips, he’s perfect.

Looking at you like you're the answer to every prayer he’s ever whispered, his smile so dazzling and pure that it makes your chest ache. “You’re the best, bébé,” he declares, his voice thick with emotion as he leans forward to press a kiss to your collarbone. “The absolute best.”

You sigh again, biting back a smile as you maneuver him to sit upright on the bed. His long legs splay out in front of him, his posture utterly relaxed in the way only someone completely plastered can manage. He watches you with a sort of drunken adoration that makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks warm under the intensity of his gaze.

“Wait here,” you say, patting his knee gently as you straighten up. “I’ll grab you something to wear.”

But the second you step away, his hand darts out to grab yours, his fingers curling around your wrist with surprising strength. You turn back to him, startled, and his face is suddenly heartbreakingly serious.

“Don’t go,” he pleads softly, his eyes wide and imploring, his bottom lip jutting out just enough to make him look like a kicked puppy. “I need you here.”

“Kylian,” you murmur, your voice caught somewhere between affectionate and exasperated. You lean down slightly, brushing your free hand against his cheek, melting when he leans into the touch. “I’m just going to the closet. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He pouts, his brows furrowing like a sulky child. “But what if you don’t come back?” His voice is small, his grip tightening just slightly as if the thought alone terrifies him.

Your heart softens instantly. “I’ll always come back,” you tell him, the promise slipping from your lips without a second thought. You kneel down in front of him, cupping his face with both hands so that he has no choice but to meet your gaze. “Always.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his big brown eyes shimmering with emotion. Then, slowly, a small, sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Always?” he repeats, his voice so quiet it’s barely more than a whisper.

You nod. “Always.”

He seems satisfied with that, finally letting go of your wrist with a little sigh of contentment. “Okay,” he murmurs, leaning back against the pillows with his eyes already fluttering shut. “But hurry, okay? I don’t like being without you.”

Your chest aches with affection as you press a quick kiss to his forehead before making your way to his closet. As you rummage through the racks, grabbing him some sweatpants and a shirt, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

When you return, Kylian is half-asleep, his head lolling to one side and his mouth slightly open. But the moment he hears your footsteps, his eyes snap open, and he sits up straighter, his expression lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You came back!” he exclaims, his voice slurred but filled with unrestrained joy.

“Of course I did,” you reply with a soft laugh, setting the clothes down on the bed in front of him. “Now get dressed, mon amour, before you pass out entirely.”

He grins at you, picking up the shirt with a clumsy hand and pulling it over his head with an endearing lack of coordination.

By the time he’s struggling with the sweatpants, you’ve moved to help him, slipping them over his legs and sliding your hands up the soft cotton of his shirt as you do.

“Merci,” he mumbles softly, his voice filled with gratitude as you help him settle in under the covers.

You lean over to press a kiss to his temple, but instead of letting you go, his arms wrap around your neck, pulling you back for a deeper, more meaningful kiss.

He sighs against your lips, a soft exhalation of pure contentment that fills your chest with warmth. When he pulls away, it's just enough to speak, his voice breathy “Trésor,” he says suddenly, his voice soft and serious as his dart back and forth into yours. You raise a brow at him in question.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, his gaze locking onto yours with surprising clarity for someone so inebriated. “You’re my everything. My whole world.”

Your throat tightens, and you can only nod, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you lean forward, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Je t'aime,” you murmur against them.

He hums back in response, his arms wrapping around your neck to pull you down closer, his lips moving over yours in a kiss so warm it sets your entire body aflame.

You’re breathless by the time you pull away. But instead of continuing to press the advantage, Kylian lets out another sigh, his eyelids drooping shut again as his head falls back on the pillow. He grins at you lazily, his voice slurring. “You’re so beautiful.”

You laugh. “So are you,” you reply, standing up with a smile. “Now sleep.”

His smile softens, his lashes drifting to half-mast as his body relaxes against the mattress. “Je t'aime, bébé,” he murmurs one last time, the words slipping out almost inaudibly.

“I love you too.” Your response is automatic, heartfelt.

But he’s already out, his breathing slow and even as you slip off your clothes, pulling on the tee shirt he tossed aside earlier to wear as pajamas.

When you slide into bed next to him, his arm curls immediately around your waist, drawing you into his chest with a sleepy sigh.

You settle in beside him, your back to his chest, your heart filling with affection as his chin rests against the slope of your neck. It’s not long before your eyelids droop, the warmth of his body and the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Just as you drift off, you’re dimly aware of a mumbled voice, the softness of his words making your heart flutter even as it slows your breathing.

“I can't wait to marry you.”

-Bianca🌻

[tryandwalkonwater]

Why Alex Needs To Quit The Monkeys

*let me preface this by saying this post is pure speculation read at your own discretion!

We can all agree Alex has a completely different vibe when he’s a puppet than when he’s a monkey. More carefree vs more guarded. He can be more silly and camp when he's a puppet because he doesn't have the same pressures applied to him as when he is a monkey. He met Miles a bit later in his life and Miles didn't have any of the preconceived notions about him that the band members did. His collaboration with Miles allows him to explore that side of himself that he hides from others. 

Alex’s bandmates are his oldest friends. Having known him since childhood they already have a set idea of who they think he is/who he is to them. And I think Alex does his best at filling this role for his bandmates, even if it's not accurate or authentic.  

Maybe they don’t have anything in common anymore other than the band and their childhoods. And I fear Alex will never spread his wings if he’s around this type of energy. In reality, he’s making his music with his childhood friends turned coworkers.

I think being around the same people for the majority of his life could be what has kept him stuck in the closet. Being in the same situations and around the same people can stunt personal growth. (Personal growth in Alex‘s case being accepting himself)

If Alex were a member of the rainbow community his oldest friends would obviously know. So does Matt and the others encourage him to be his true self? Or does Alex shrink himself to continue to “fit in” with his mates? Does Alex feel like he owes his friends/bandmates something since they’ve been together so long?

Does Alex feel comfortable enough around them to be open and authentic? Or have they discouraged him because it would be a bad image for the band to have a gay frontman? 

The lyrics “over there there’s friends of mine / what can I say I’ve known them for a long long time / yeah they might overstep the line / but you just cannot get angry in the same way” sounds like he’s been disrespected by friends before but he remains loyal to them because they’re familiar and he grew up with them.... 

Is that what he's doing by staying and continuing to make music with the Arctic Monkeys? 

The Mr. Schwartz lyrics also refer to this feeling of being indebted to others "Mr. Schwartz staying strong for the crew" I interpret “the crew” to mean the band. And Mr. Schwartz to be another name for Mr. Snarl, Alex’s false macho man persona. He’s "staying strong" by upholding the band image by continuing to pretend to be a heterosexual. The lyrics "if we guess who I’m pretending to be" support this interpretation as well.

When his macho mask slipped in 2016 it slipped HARD and everything he had been repressing for the past few years came up out on stage with Miles. Fruity/flamboyant Alex is the true Alex but he’s ashamed of his flamboyant self due to internalized homophobia/ external homophobia and possibly pressure from the band to present in a certain way. 

Maybe I'm being too hard on Matt and the guys and it's really the management and label who are the ones putting pressure on Alex to "be straight".

But there you have it, I am of the belief that Alex won’t be coming out of the closet because he doesn’t want to mess up his band's image. Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[trashboatprince]

SO!

THE GIGGLE!

DW spoilers under the cut:

MY FACES THROUGHOUT THIS! HOLY SHIT!

-I FUCKING LOVE THIS SPECIAL I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS THIS WAS AMAZING SHUT UP LET ME HAVE THIS! LET ME HAVE THIS!

-Anyway, let's get on with the actual stuff

-The opening punched me in the face. Of course the fruity-ass villain, The Toymaker, would set up shop in SoHo. Aziraphale would be pissed. Only one Southern Pansy is allowed to have a physic defying shop and that's him.

-The chaos, so much chaos. But hey! We heard Wilf! We didn't really see him, but we got one last line in with him, thank goodness!

-UNIT is not subtle anymore, but at this point it would make sense that they're more well-known.

-I dunno who Mel is, but she seems like a fun person! :O Which era was she, Five's?

-The shit with the giggle and how it affected Kate... yikes. :|

-I do want to point out how awesome Donna is throughout this episode, from the music notes, to defending the Doctor, to standing by their side. She's the best, love her. <3

-The Toymaker is fuck, NPH was an excellent choice, honestly.

-His dimension is fuckin' bonkers. I already knew that his world was basically a game to begin with, so I feel really bad for Donna and the Doctor as they go through the halls. Also, fucking puppets! UHG!

-Best two outta three, who didn't see that one coming?

-THE REGENERATION!

-Let's talk about that!

-Let's fucking talk about the insanity that is the regeneration! (And fuck you Disney+ for using Tenth Doctor in the subtitles, that's still Fourteen to me).

-Fourteen's last words were interesting, including the allons-y, kinda had a feeling we'd get an old Ten quote in there, but the fact that they said they felt weird, it's like. Wait... WAIT! HOLD UP???

-THE SPLIT! Fourteen's shock, Fifteen's excitement! Fifteen! I love you! I love you!

-Two Doctors for the price of one, another weird regeneration! A bi-regeneration! A myth! So that means that there was talk about it before, a possibility, unlike the meta-crisis!

-Please take note that Fourteen lost their underpants and went commando through the last half of the special because... WOW. That's gotta be uncomfortable.

-Fifteen, Fifteen, I fucking love you~

-Fifteen is going to be a caring, emotional Doctor and I'm here for that. <3 And how he held Fourteen... hhhhhh.... my little heart <3

-I know, I know, cheesy to have two Doctors and now two TARDIS's, but I don't fucking care. I don't fucking care at all. I love it. I love that Fourteen can rest, Fifteen can still fly off and have adventures. Which means that there is a chance that they can meet again, and maybe we'll have another fun adventure with them.

-Donna working for UNIT sounds like a good idea. I wonder if Fourteen will as well, and probably cause so much trouble, just like Three and Four did. :D

-Fourteen and Tentoo, the Doctors who can rest and enjoy the little things. That's all I need in life.

-Also, the adorable line about Rose being their niece!

-I have so many more thoughts, but it's hard to put them all down. Over all, I fucking loved this, I get more Fourteen in my life, and now I also get to enjoy Fifteen at the same time! Two Doctors for the price of one!

LET.

ME.

HAVE.

THIS!

[pafs-silly-puppets]

We have watched the entire tv show!!

They HATED the the stop motion bit in Death and me and our other Puppet Obsessed Friends shared a glance (metaphorically, this was all in a discord call) and waited for their reaction to Stain (equally visceral) and then we vibed to the end credits "when you meet a business man, you must shake him by the hand~"

"That's what FAMILY means to MEEEEE, and my FAMILYYYYY" and also they had a real wtf moment when Roy spoke "yum yum yum yum"

They cringed at Warren's "song" and thoroughly enjoyed the roast session that followed "He looks like a tumor!"

They cried about the felt plants getting knocked over when the train came through the fireplace, found the Mulhoven bit really charming until the crash, then was completely silent during the subsequent bit where reality crumbled until I commented about the clump looking super Out Of Place™ in the real world and how uncomfortable Red's actor must have been walking around outside in a felt onesie

They finally understand why I love Electracy and really enjoyed them all shredding on electric guitars at the end of that song, we made a joke about Yellow finally being medicated for ADHD, they cried about the felt plants some more, gave the most VISCERAL "AAEUGGH" sound when the Big Boys came on screen, shrieked at the Steak's cameo, found the Fridge Scene™ hella fruity, and flipped at an actual human person in dhmis

Upon finishing the series, they then went down a rabbit hole of reading theories left in the YouTube comments section of the show because we are Americans™ who don't have Channel 4

Thank you for watching me drag my friend into this lovely felt hellhole! This is what happens when someone let's me infodump to them about my hyperfixations!

I was talking about the guys in a discord call with my friend last night, said friend had only ever seen Creativity way back when, so they don't have a lot of context outside of what me or our other puppet obsessed friends have said

When I started talking about Duck, they were very concerned for multiple reasons, such as:

"What do you mean he's died three times?"

"Why does he have a kill count??? Why is the duck a serial killer??"

"He's got no organs?????"

"He's rabid-" "-He also has diabetes." "HE'S-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S A ZOMBIE???"

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

my official reasonings/ramblings for why each song on my steddie playlist was added because the brainrot is real (this list is constantly being updated!)

i tried to keep this as close to the actual time frame as possible, but any song can be a steddie song since eddie is actually alive and well ofc 🥰

any song with just the reasoning being “Steve” or “Eddie” means it’s a song on that’d i think would be on their playlist/they’d listen to and may or may not think about the other while they do

Eddie My Love - The Chordettes duh. but also this is the song Steve puts on the jukebox in response to the scenario below with ‘Hey Lover’ (here’s a drabble I wrote for this and ‘Hey Lover’)

I Was Made For Lovin' You - KISS Eddie’s Steve song; part of my #steddieweek2023 fic

Mary On A Cross - Ghost Literally all the first steddie edits I saw on tiktok were to this song

Hey Lover - The Daughters of Eve I have an scenario in my head of Eddie putting this song on a jukebox in a small diner, saying “hey that sounds like you Stevie” at the line “You don’t have to be a king” and blushing like crazy when Steve smirks and asks “You trying to tell me something, Munson?” (here’s a drabble I wrote for this and ‘Eddie My Love’’)

Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon this tiktok by luna.weasley11 that says it sounds like Eddie singing

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me - Waitress Soundtrack POV, Eddie singing this to Steve because Eddie didn’t die and Steve and Robin work at a diner now, fight me.

Teenage Dirtbag - Wheatus Eddie singing about Steve; Steve comes to Eddie at prom (Steve is chaperoning or is Robin’s date idk) and invites him to an Iron Maiden concert. basically this post by erlij on twitter (the twt post was what i saw first, but they also posted it here on tumblr (@erlie))

Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard Eddie

You Shook Me All Night Long - AC/DC Eddie

Head Over Heels - Tears for Fears Steve’s Eddie song; part of my #steddieweek2023 fic

Angeleyes - ABBA AU where King Steve and Eddie meet earlier and maybe fool around and this is Eddie after King Steve drops him (don’t worry they still get together later after Steve isn’t a complete ASS.).

Cry Little Sister - Gerard McMann Kas!Eddie vibes also Lost Boys?? Hello?? - also this vid from @verk0my of steve meeting vamp eddie the first time

Lay All Your Love On Me - ABBA Steve

Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears Steve’s “Heat of the Moment”/groundhog day song from “The Lathe” by @palmviolet on AO3

1985 - Bo Burnham duh

Master of Puppets - Metallica DUH

Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) - Kate Bush duh, but also this Kas!Eddie x Steve fanvid by @softoreos on youtube

Psycho Killer - Talking Heads was in the show, but I added it to this playlist because of this tiktok by roguealien (@rogue-alien here on tumblr)

Take on Me - a-ha Steve

Somebody To Love - Queen duh, but also: don’t watch this Ella Enchanted AU vid by roguealien on tiktok and then DON’T think about this song/scene in the movie but steddie

Take My Breath Away - Berlin duh

Bad Habit - Steve Lacy Steve to Eddie when he finds out Eddie had a crush on him and was too late to do anything about it either due to canon or because Eddie’s in a coma from his injuries

Voulez-Vous - ABBA added because I read this fic by @bmodiwrites where Eddie walks in on Dustin and Steve singing and dancing to this while cooking and it sends Eddie into a mixtape-making spiral

Eddie Baby - Felix Hagen & the Family AU where the fruity four go see Corroded Coffin play at some gay bar in Indianapolis’ open mic night and after Corroded Coffin plays, Steve, Robin, and Nancy surprise Eddie by being the next act to go up on stage; Steve singing as a confession to Eddie, Robin and Nancy as his backup/band! I finally wrote this!! tumblr | AO3

You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) - Dead Or Alive Steve’s “Oh shit I have a crush on Eddie Munson” song

Kiss the Go-Goat - Ghost seen this used in steddie edits

Tainted Love - Soft Cell Eddie with his big ol’ pining crush on Steve

I Ran (So Far Away) - Flock of Seagulls Eddie coded: “Outside of D&D, I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week.”. also, “..with auburn hair and tawny eyes” is obv. about Steve

Play With Me - Extreme Eddie

Hungry Eyes - Eric Carmen Steve

This Charming Man - The Smiths Steve coded

Heart Of Glass (Live) - Miley Cyrus the song fits the era, but this is the version I like better tbh

Spillways - Ghost idk, i like it and I think Eddie’d like Ghost in the future

Don’t You Want Me - The Human League classic 80s song

Super Freak - Rick James classic 80s song (also I love the Hillywood ST parody vid)

Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen DUH

As the World Falls Down - David Bowie, Labyrinth HELLO?? JARETH!EDDIE AND SARAH!STEVE?? “I will be there for you as the world falls down”??? editing this one to add THIS BEAUTIFUL ART BY @vesperalhemlock

The Power Of Love - Huey Lewis & The News perfect for S3 steddie!

Can’t Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon classic 80s song, plus a fic of the same name by @steddieasitgoes​ where Steve finds a mix tape Eddie Made about him and this song is on the tape twice because Eddie is that down bad for him

I’m Still Standing - Elton John fits both of them, Steve after having gone through all the upside-down bullshit, Eddie still standing tall after everything he’s been through

Le Hace Falta Un Beso - EL Chapo De Sinaloa this tiktok/meme by littlecorvo also i’m in LOVE with hispanic!Eddie

Watching Over Me - Radio Company i used this song for the title to my destiel!steddie fic bc it's a super destiel coded song by jackles himself!!

The King Has Lost His Crown - ABBA STEVE’S SONG FR ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? ABBA?? The title?? “The world is upside-down”?? In the words of my friend Eli (@transizzyhands): “I can’t believe abba invented Steve harrington”; now part of my #steddieweek2023 fic

Rainbow in the Dark - Dio Eddie

Last Christmas - Wham! idk, i’ve seen edits of them to this song and also i love this song lmao

Hopelessly Devoted To You - Olivia Newton-John Sandy!Steve x Danny!Eddie

SOS - ABBA Steve pining after Eddie even though he’s gone

Acolyte - Slaughter Beach, Dog “Eddie, I want you to marry me, we’ll wait a few years, I don’t mean to frighten you, I just wanna be clear.” (this specific vid by tubesock_ (@tubesock86 here on tumblr) made me add this to the playlist!)

Your Love - The Outfield Steve

More Than a Feeling - Boston classic

Is This Love - Whitesnake there was a specific video by chloeeerenee on tiktok that made me add this song to the playlist but it has since been deleted 😔; also part of my #steddieweek2023 fic

Love Bites - Judas Priest Kas/Vampire!Eddie x Steve vibes, this art by @eddiemunsonrulesmylife, ALSO THE ART FROM THIS ALBUM IS A POSTER IN EDDIE’S TRAILER FROM THE ST SET

Every Breath You Take - The Police this is giving either ghost!eddie still watching over steve OR steve pining after eddie from afar as far back as S2

Kickstart My Heart - Motley Crue i originally thought Eddie would’ve liked this song, but now i’m thinking that steve is the one that ends up liking it and is like ‘oh, you like this right? this is metal?’ and Eddie has to be all 😬😬😬 ‘yeah stevie, i love this song’

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen THEM!! classic 80s song, also this vid by roguealien

Honey, Honey - ABBA Steve

Camel by Camel - Mix Vocal - Sandy Marton this video by @/marcluvr on tiktok

Rock You LIke A Hurricane - Scorpions Eddie

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) - John Lennon them ❤️ also this edit vid with the album by lordnessly

You Really Got Me - Van Halen Eddie

Starman - David Bowie from a Instagram story by @szczurherbacany; when they posted the first pic on this insta post, had this song on it!! basically, steve's moles/freckles are constellations

Take A Chance On Me - ABBA Eddie wanting Steve to take a chance on him

Turbo Lover - Judas Priest this art by @eddiemunsonrulesmylife

Owner of a Lonely Heart - Yes Steve

Freaks - Surf Curse Eddie coded

Going to Georgia - The Mountain Goats the song for the songfic title “the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you” and its sequel “frozen with joy right where i stand” by @greatunironic ; AKA steddie fic royalty

The Promise - When In Rome this tiktok from nextjen

(I Just) Died In Your Arms - Cutting Crew Kinda literal lmao sorry

Sweet Leaf - Black Sabbath In my fave steddie fic “The Shire is NOT on Fire” by @kissesforcas, Steve tells Eddie that this song reminds him of his love (Eddie); it makes sense when you read it!.

For Whom The Bell Tolls - Metallica Eddie’d love this song but also this vid specifically from @toktopus-art

Ballroom Blitz - Sweet idk why but this is giving me fruity four vibes OR will be the song that will be playing during S5’s big fight™ and we find out eddie’s still alive and the big fight™ is the party vs. kas!eddie and vecna

Shout - Tears For Fears Steve

Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell this vid by roguealien

Dancing In the Dark - Bruce Springsteen Steve coded in general also this art by @mankanar

You’re The One That I Want - John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John Sandy!Steve x Danny!Eddie in general, specifically this vid and this vid from toktopus-art

Lovesong - The Cure duh

This Year - The Mountain Goats this vid by roguealien

I Will Follow Him - Peggy March this vid by roguealien

Be My Baby - The Ronettes part 4 to my mixtape fic!

Take Me Home Tonight - Eddie Money duh! but also i added this to my #steddieweek2023 fic!

Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode this vid by vimenage is what made me add this song to the playlist!

I’m Still Here (Jim’s Theme) - Treasure Planet soundtrack Eddie coded; seriously makes me emotional thinking about Eddie singing this like wtf

Rewrite The Stars - The Greatest Showman soundtrack in my head this is a AU where Steve is the rich boy that falls for acrobat Eddie; Steve joins the show just as staff to get away from his Dad/family, travel with the show and to learn more about the absolutely enchanting trapeze artist (like Ewan McGregor does in Big Fish but his love is in the show he’s working for). Steve wants to go all in in their relationship and Eddie is wary because he doesn’t trust rich boy Steve (at first) and also he is more cautious of how their relationship would be perceived to anyone outside the showgrounds/performers/their friends and pushes him away because of it.

I Won’t Say I’m in Love - Hercules Soundtrack DUH!!! A classic song for any ship; Eddie is Meg and Steve is Hercules obv. w/ corroded coffin and/or robin and dustin are the muses being like, “we all know you’re down bad for the big hunky jock you can’t fool us eddie.”; bonus! i wrote this!

Misunderstanding - Ninja Sex Party classic angst song (this version cause I personally prefer it over the original)

Radio Ga Ga - Queen I feel like they’d both love this song

Agora Te Puedes Marchar - Luis Miguel this edit from moonysmunson

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper Steve after Eddie died 🙃

I Want to Know What Love Is - Foreigner Steve when he’s going through is sexuality crisis/figuring out his crush on Eddie

Careless Whisper - Wham! 😏

Crazy For You - Madonna Steve

Heaven - Bryan Adams future steddie!!!! 😭😭😭

St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion) - John Parr Steve coded, thinking he’s the only one who can save everyone and once it’s all over, just being on top of the world being with Eddie and getting the fuck away from his fuckass dad

Broken Wings - Mr. Mister

I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch) - Four Tops Eddie has a soft spot for sappy oldies

All I Ask Of You - Phantom of the Opera soundtrack added this for the steddie fic i wrote where Eddie was a theater kid in school and steve fell for him when he saw Eddie play the Phantom

Necesito Decirte - Conjunto Primavera my hubby found this song after looking for it for a while and the lyrics fit a lost depressed steve after eddie is gone

Tragos Amargos - Ramon Ayala sad sappy songs for eddie music hc, but this time it’s hispanic!eddie(, my love)

Quién Como Tú - Ana Gabriel this vid by corvus_chronicles on tiktok (@corvuschronicles here on tumblr) with hispanic eddie jamming to this while cleaning 🥰

If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher timeloop fics 🫠🙃

Alone - Heart this vid by @becomingfoxes that made me realize i hadn’t put this on my playlist yet????

Bigger Than The Whole Sky -Taylor Swift this edit by mira (@/hellfiresteddie on twitter) FUCKING HELL ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT??? ALSO @strawberryspence and @undreaming-fanfiction's fic of the same name

Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance this video 🙃🙃

Teenager in Love - Dion & The Belmonts they really do just be two teenagers in love?? also see prev. explanations about Eddie having a soft spot for sappy oldies because of Wayne

Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar Steve

Boys Don’t Cry - The Cure Steve

Wouldn’t It Be Nice - The Beach Boys It really would be nice if they could just be in love and happy, wouldn’t it?? sorrynotsorry about making this happy sounding song sad

The End of the World - Skeeter Davis Steve being in his feels after Eddie’s gone (Believe it or not, I don’t really like angst, I promise! idk what’s up with me lmao)

Can’t Help Falling In Love - Elvis Presley they really can’t lol

Holding Out for a Hero - Bonnie Tyler Steve deserves a bashing in some UD monsters heads montage to this song; now also included in part 5 of my mixtape fic!

Lady Stardust - David Bowie this tweet about how this song is Flight Risk steddie coded

Something About You - Level 42 Steve

Into the Groove - Madonna Steve

How Will I Know - Whitney Houston Steve

Always Something There to Remind Me - Naked Eyes after eddie dies, steve seeing things everywhere that remind him of eddie

Like a Prayer - Madonna “I’m down on my knees, i wanna take you there”?? 👀

The Man Who Sold the World - David Bowie it’s giving witness protection eddie, maybe WP eddie that even the party thought died but then find him again??

Heartbeat - Wham! this vid by rachelismommytbh on tiktok that inspired my #steddieweek2023 fic!

My Boyfriend’s Back - The Angels this vid 🤗 by @ranebowstitches on tiktok

Out of Touch - Daryl Hall and John Oates Steve worried he might not have the time to get to know the guy that may or may not have made him realize things about himself after the world didn't end. now also part of my #steddieweek2023 fic

Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos this video from @sam-loves-seb that made me bawl uncontrollably!

Your Kind of Lover - Freddie Mercury this tiktok from @miserablekingsteve ; and now in my #steddieweek2023 fic

Underground - Cody Fry this video by @maatdraws

Object of My Desire - Starpoint this vid that pointed out this is canon Steve music; it plays in the car in s4 e1!

Self Control - Laura Branigan

True - Spandau Ballet

Stephen - Ke$ha you can't tell me that eddie wouldn't sing steve's name to him in this exact tone whenever he sees him after hearing this (either modern au or ELND and they are together through the 2010s etc.)

People Are People - Depeche Mode steve internally being like 'damn why does eddie hate me sm?' i.e. before getting together, after vecna, eddie is still wary of "King Steve"

Forever - KISS this HC post from @undreaming-fanfiction about steve and eddie's first dance to this song at their wedding; now also my #steddieweek2023 fic

The Trooper - Iron Maiden eddie would BODY this guitar!! also this is from the same album that eddie grabs from robin and says "THIS. IS. MUSIC."

Runnin' with the Devil - Van Halen I can see Eddie blasting this through town just to see how offended people get, leaning into the rumors and all that; now also because of my #steddieweek2023 fic

Kiss On My List - Daryl Hall & John Oates Steve; also in my #steddieweek2023 fic

Faithfully - Journey in my head, this one goes like this: at the end of one of his shows, rockstar!eddie says "okay guys, we're about done here, and there's just one more song i want to play for you. it's a little outside of our normal type of thing, but there's a very special someone out there in the crowd who just loves these guys... so, to stevie, thank you for sticking by me through the absolute hell that touring can be, thank you for always being there for me in general really.." he chuckles into the mic, "anyway, this one's for you sunshine." he goes to leave the mic but comes back to mumble out a "also, please don't sue us, journey." and plays this for his steve ❤

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper tbh i’m getting girls day/sleepover at steve’s (robin, nancy, erica, el, max) and he gets pulled into a dance party/sing-off to this song, and afterwards, while they are giving him a makeover, tells the rest of them about his crush on eddie (robin already knows obv)

I Want It All - Queen

Everybody Needs - Danny Elfman this video from @/havisham.hfc on tiktok

Easy Lover - Philip Bailey, Phil Collins

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go - Wham! Steve (duh), but also tbh i saw this edit of my original blorbos and i immediately thought but what if also steddie??

Hold The Line - TOTO “love isn’t always on time”?? it’s giving canon ending to s4 and steve realizing his feelings too late 🙃 also, now in my #steddieweek2023 fic

American Pie - Don McLean this vid by @strawberryspence

Stand by Me - Ben E. King i saw a top 10 songs of the 60s and for some reason this one made my brain go brrrrrrrsteddiebrrrrr

La vie en rose - Louis Armstrong from @ohliooh’s playlist for their fic One Need Not Be A House 🙃

Livin’ on a Prayer - Bon Jovi this post by @sparrowtapes, duh of course steve has a crush on eddie cause he also has a crush on bon jovi

Uptown Girl - Billy Joel steve is the uptown girl he (eddie) is singin' about obv

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out - The Smiths steve just wanting to get out of his house and away from his lonely thoughts, even before steddie, just being out doing nothing with eddie starts to mean everything to him

Dreams - Van Halen steddie talking about getting their dreams of getting out of hawkins, even before steddie happens

At Last - Etta James my #steddieweek2023 fic

Remains of the Day - Danny Elfman this original corpse groom au by @undreaming-fanfiction that inspired this continuation i did covering the remains of the day scene!!

For the Dancing and the Dreaming - How To Train Your Dragon 2 soundtrack this video by @/stevie.boy_19 on tiktok that WRECKED me 🥰 also included it in my fic here

You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi this video by @/mione.ae on tiktok 🥵🥵

A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into - Be More Chill soundtrack this video by @toktopus-art

I’ve Got You Under My Skin - Michael Bublé the song from ‘The Proposal’ and the title for @strawberryspence ‘s fic of the same name. the most bestest, most important most au fic ever

Hysteria - Def Leppard this tiktok from @/doodle_soup72

Burnin' for You - Blue Oyster Cult

Lovers In A Dangerous Time - Bruce Cockburn suggested by this lovely anon, these lyrics are super steddie coded

In My Head - Joe Sarafini & Andrew Barth Feldman this video by @/usu_mimi on tiktok (i’ve been assuming this is @usumimi here on tumblr!)

Poison - Alice Cooper Eddie being mad at being down bad for Steve, everything about him being dangerous for Eddie to have feelings for. like, s1 era

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac Steve AND Eddie (surprisingly/not surprisingly; it's Wayne's fault he likes Stevie Nicks, okay?)

Shadows of the Night - Pat Benetar Steve

Foolish Heart - Steve Perry Steve

Renegade - Styx i've had this one associated with spn/the winchesters in my brain for so long but this post by @roykentt made me see that it's also eddie's song fr fr fr

Never Ending Song - Conan Gray this video from naysa on tiktok that made it so now all i can think of is eddie when i hear this lmao

Would That I - Hozier this video from @tubesock86

Indiana Wants Me - Eddie Taylor this video and art from @rogue-alien

Love Me Like There’s No Tomorrow - Freddie Mercury their last night together bc they decided they just don’t work anymore, or eddie is being hauled off into witness protection and won’t be allowed to see steve anymore, hell, even a “you’re getting married tomorrow morning and this is our last night together” vibe. and then i cried.

Dance the Night Away - Freddie Mercury

Work Song - Hozier i got a brainworm about this song and wrote this thing

When I See You Smile - Bad English

If You Love Me (Really Love Me) - Brenda Lee

Back to the Old House - The Smiths this video by @/eliminatolives on tiktok

Little Lies - Fleetwood Mac from this tiktok that i could 100% see being a years later meet cute between the boys (eddie is dancing in the middle of the aisle lmao)

Cheri Cheri Lady - Modern Talking

Talking In Your Sleep - The Romantics steve

Freak of the Week - Freak Kitchen idk i just love this song and i could totally see this beinga song/video Corroded Coffin would do. can you imagine the animated versions of the boys in this video?? iconic

Here I Go Again - Whitesnake

The Boys Of Summer - Don Henley classic song, theme song for summer fling fics in my head (also the title song for this fic by steveharringtoned)

Give Him A Great Big Kiss - The Shangri-Las this little thing by @thefatedthoughtofyou

I Think We're Alone Now - Tommy James & The Shondells

Dial Drunk - Noah Kahan king steve song fr, i hc the person he's calling is his mom and she doesn't answer or tells Hop to just leave him there to teach him a lesson or smth (completely ignoring the fact that he's a high schooler getting drunk on the regular). i have more thoughts about an au where steve writes this song and eddie is a more established star who adds his vocals to it as a re-release but that's for another time.

Run Away to Mars - TALK for this thing i wrote of eddie being the one to sing this about steve

Sherry - Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons tbh i just like this song, but also i can see either finding out the other does too and starting to sing along to it but replacing 'sherry' with 'eddie' or 'stevie' lmao

Holy Diver - Dio duh

Seek & Destroy - Metallica kas!eddie comeback theme song. he and his army of demobats are hunting down the hawkins gang, montage of them all fighting, ending when eddie finds steve backed into a corner with only his bat >:)

As Long As It's Not About Love - Dio from this post by @novakiart

To Be Young Again - Holy Wire this sounds like steddie finding each other again after being something back in the day and now they are wistful about what could have been and also what was

[ladykissingfish]

drunk Akatsuki hc? 🥺

Ask and ye shall receive! ((Sorry it took so long to get to/finish this. Also get the nagging feeling I did a post very similar to this before but 🤷🏽‍♀️ piss poor memory so))

Drinking with the Akatsuki

Kakuzu

Takes a lot to get him drunk; his alcohol tolerance is pretty damn high. And when he does reach that point, he becomes … very unlike himself. Friendly, smiling, and extremely loose with his precious money. Kakuzu being drunk is the best time to ask him for an advance on your pay, or a personal loan. Another bonus: drunk Kakuzu is storytime Kakuzu. When he’s sober, the others don’t really like listening to his stories because they’re all boring as hell, and are usually centered around some point that he’s trying to nag everyone on. But drunk Kakuzu, well, he’ll tell you about brawls, dangerous stunts he pulled when he was a kid, sometimes even old lovers. He can keep the rest of the Akatsuki enraptured for hours with his intoxicated tales. The morning after a night of drinking is a different tale, though. He’ll remember loaning money to people and hunt them down to make sure that know they have to pay him back, and he’ll deny like crazy any story tidbits that the others bring up to him. Will also go through several pots of pure black coffee in an effort to de-hangover himself more quickly.

Pein

The Pein bodies don’t drink, but Nagato will, very rarely. Beer is his drink of choice, and he’ll opt for foreign rather than domestic. He’s not really the type to get full-on drunk (no matter what he’s the Leader and he carries himself as such), rather he’ll just get slightly tipsy. If he gets tipsy enough he’ll rant a bit to whoever’s closest about pain, and the unfairness of life, and anything else that would put a downer on happy drinkers’ moods. He always hopes that the alcohol will help him to sleep (he’s a horrible insomniac) but most times it just gives him a slight headache while leaving him wide-wake and dry-mouthed.

Hidan

Nobody wants to be around this guy when he’s had too much to drink, because the normally violent Hidan becomes even more so after hitting the booze. He’ll be willing to take on any and everyone, from teenagers to old men. And being immortal doesn’t help matters any; he could literally get torn limb from limb and his mouth would still be taunting his opponents with “Is that the best ya got, bastard??” Drinking also brings out his creative side when it comes to his human sacrifices and Jashin rituals; he’ll think up new (and horrible) ways to torment and kill his victims. Is the type to finally, FINALLY just completely pass out after reaching his final tolerance point, and the others will (reluctantly) drag him to his room and put him in his bed. Not many are willing to do this, however, as most times before he passes out he’ll have stripped himself completely naked.

Tobi

An emotional drunk. Gets sad and cries over practically anything. And it doesn’t take much to get him tanked, either; his tolerance level is embarrassingly low and he’ll be ready to sob after just a couple of glasses of wine. Tobi tries to avoid drinking when he can because he knows there’s a good chance of him dropping his persona and letting the others see Obito Uchiha. In fact this HAS happened a few times, where he’a taken off his mask and everything; fortunately for him the others were so gone that the next day they either didn’t remember, or believed that had just imagined the whole thing. Likes to soothe himself by slurring sad love songs at the top of lungs, joined most frequently by Deidara and Hidan. Will also drunkenly stuff his face with meats, which is a complete opposite from his sweet-loving sober self. He can throw down a dozen burgers when boozed up, the results of which will likely be in puddles all over the floor the next day. Will go to his bed and turn around in circles a bunch of times, like a dog, before finally going to sleep. “Tobi” will be the quietest he’s ever been the next day, as he fights a massive headachy hangover.

Konan

For being such a thin, delicate girl, Konan can hold her liquor right up there with the likes of Kakuzu and Kisame. One might never even know that she’s drunk to begin with; she walks perfectly straight, doesn’t slur her words, has almost perfect reflexes and normal mannerisms. One thing always gives her away, however; drunk Konan is hungry Konan. Under normal circumstances the little lady sticks to a healthy diet and isn’t one for over-indulging in anything. One shot or beer too many, and suddenly the gloves are off. Konan will make pizza, hotdogs, gigantic sundaes, cakes and pies … and devour almost all of it. She’ll share with the others if asked … but most times she’s eaten so much that there’s not much left to share. When she’s finally had her fill, she’ll go to bed … and wake up feeling sick as a dog the next morning. After the nausea passes, she’ll force herself to go for a long run or walk, no matter how much her head may be aching, in order to work off her excessive calorie intake.

Zetsu

Zetsu doesn’t drink, because alcohol interferes with his plant genetics, acting as literal poison to his system. But he enjoys being around the others when they’re drunk, to see the different types of personalities that emerge. Likes to hang around Hidan in particular, as the man’s sacrifices pick up significantly when he’s drunk, meaning Zetsu has more of a smorgasbord of leftovers to pick from

Sasori

As a puppet, Sasori doesn’t drink. But when he was a human, it was a different story. He turned himself into a non-human at a very young age, much younger, of course, than would have been the legal drinking age. But his grandmother kept a variety of wines in their home, and when she was away, he liked to pour himself a glass. Always only a single glass; he was intelligent enough both to know that his grandmother would notice if any larger of a quantity was missing, and, already dabbling in making poisons at this point, he understood the concept of “tolerance” better than most. But the single glass was enough; it seemed to comfort him during those nights when he was missing his mother and father. The wine also served as a brain-opener for him, of sorts: it was over wine that he first got the idea of turning himself into a puppet.

Deidara

Being young and so slender, and not having much experience with alcohol before joining the Akatsuki, the blonde is a bit of a light-weight when it comes to the hooch. He doesn’t really care for beers or ales (he compares the taste to “cat-piss”) and instead goes for the fruity mixed drinks that don’t SEEM that strong … until you’ve had about three or four, and they put you on your ass. Deidara becomes very lovey-dovey when drunk, and not just in a romantic sense. Alcohol makes everyone in the world his friend, and he’s suddenly interested in what others have to say about life and art. He’s even nice to Itachi, going so far as to hug him and tell him that he smells good, something that he will vehemently deny the next day. He’ll go to Sasori and cling to him and gush about how he appreciates his friendship and his guidance, until Sasori gets tired of him and tells him to go to sleep. Deidara can get to his room on his own, but once the door closes, he’s more likely to pass out on the floor than in his own bed. Also, if he didn’t think to tie up his long hair beforehand, he’ll be in for a nasty, messy surprise when he inevitably wakes up to vomit at some point.

Itachi

Itachi isn’t one to ever let himself lose control of his senses, no matter the situation. Therefore, if he’s drinking with the others, he’ll stick to one or two beers or a single shot before cutting himself off for the evening. He plays much of a “mom” role in the group, making sure the others are okay, lending a shoulder to cry on for the emotional drunks, and, if they’re out somewhere, making sure everyone gets home safe and sound. On the rare, RARE occasions he drinks by himself, and lets go of his hesitation, he’s just as emotional a drinker as Tobi (which is quite possibly an Uchiha trait). He’ll cry into his pillow, he’ll sit and lament over the choices he’s made in life. Sometimes he’ll find and put on the saddest song or movie he can think of, just so he has something to get emotional over. Although this sounds bad, this is actually a helpful bit of therapy for him, as it allows him to release emotions that he normally keeps bottled up. He’ll end a night of solo drinking with a cup of tea, then go quietly to bed, sleeping like a rock until the sun comes up and things go back to normal.

Kisame

Right up there with Kakuzu as being a guy that can hold his liquor like a champ. In fact his ability to do so has won him many drinking challenges at bars, as well as a formidable reputation as “one bad ass son of a bitch”. It also helps him confidence-wise; normally the half-shark is very reserved and keeps to himself, as he feels that his appearance is off-putting and scary to “normal” people. But alcohol loosens him up and gets him talking, and being bold, and many people find this switch in personality to be highly attractive. Ladies especially take notice of his smile, his eyes … and his muscles. He even scores several phone numbers from interested parties … but by the time he’s sober again, he never follows through with calling anyone. Also helps Itachi in that he keeps an eye on the others when they drink, to make sure that they’re safe.

[irl-jericho]

Karl heisenber is gay coded

Karl heisenberg is gay coded (analysis time)

I wanted to begin my analysis by saying i’m a gay dude, and to ask people to please not to comment if they think he’s straight or bi, this is about him being potentially gay. Thank you. 

If there is more i could add, let me know. I’m also going to add some things about victor frankenstein since yknow karl is based off of him. 

Karl heisenberg is the last of the four lords you encounter, and let me just say he has a lot of homoerotic subtext, similar to how victor frankenstein has a lot of homoerotic subtext and since he is inspired off of him i’ll also be using this on my analysis. In the game it’s quite apparent that Karl has a liking for ethan winters, which ties in to the gay coding and homoerotic subtext. Homoerotic subtext in media is when characters especially two characters of the same gender bicker or fight to the point where there may be some gay implications, some of the books that come at the top of my head are doctor faustus and frankenstein, but i believe that the subtext is also there and extremely apparent for karl heisenberg, especially for how he feels for ethan winters.

In Heisenbergs notes he comments about how interesting ethans body is, although this is very likely to be because of the mold it can very well fight into the category of homoerotic subtext, because he doesn’t claim that he finds how ethans body is interesting because of how it could function, and also doesn’t mention anything about roses other than it being powerful. So it leads me to believe that it was made with the intention to give homoerotic subtext and gay coding for his character.

This is a pretty silly point to bring up but in the puppet show they made, heisenberg says “good luck daddy” and honestly I feel like I really don’t need to comment about how that could be gay coding. He also calls ethan papa, and if that isn’t homoerotic subtext or just gay coding I honestly probably don’t know what is.

(This way papa also sounds pretty gay) 

 Throughout the game he also flirts with ethan, and even tells ethan that he likes him. Which of course could be Karl trying to act charismatic and persuasive but knowing his lack of social skills it is more than likely he was being completely sincere, especially since he is also very honest about using rose as a weapon. Looking into his character sharing potential intimate things like that isn’t hard especially since he opens up about his trauma to ethan, never lying or trying to manipulate him. Which also makes the “i like you” comment to ethan part of his gay coding. I’ll put the pictures below as well.

Also like how Alcina Dimitrescu has a lot of statues of women, Heisenberg has his soldats which are all men, none of them are women. Which again could be the potential of him being misogynistic but I think it’s more like how Alcina Dimitrescu  only has statues of women because she loves women and has a preference for women. Sooooo I think it’s fair to say it’s the same for heisenberg. I also know this isn’t a good point but his voice do be sounding fruity as fuck (sorry sorry). I also believe that Victor Frankenstein ( who is Karl is based on is gay coded himself or at least has homoerotic subtext) Which could point to him definetely being gay coded! since frankenstein did try to make the creature attractive but I don’t think that’s one of the strongest arguments I could make

I also want to lasty bring up the scene where Heisenberg demands Ethan to sit and pushes him onto the chair, I believe that was very clear homoerotic subtext with his character. I also believe that if he was attracted to women he could have made a comment about Mia but he didn’t. 

I do think he is EXTREMELY coded to be a gay man and I could write more if you guys want but thats all for now :0. I could def go into detail on more points but lmk

[xbunnybunz]

Stride of Luck (7/?) [Dave Strider X Reader X Bro Strider]

Summary:

You find an unconscious Dave Strider in a desolate street and allow him to crash at your place, only to find out that he's come all the way from Texas to find his bro, Dirk Strider.

What seems like an easy task soon evolves into something much more complicated when you finally locate Dirk, and realize three things. One, Dave is hot as fuck. Two, Dirk is also hot as fuck. Three, they have the same taste in girls.

“i warned you about the striders, bro. i told you dog!”

Genre: Romance, Humor, Angst, Slow Burn

Author's Note: moving some stuff over from AO3 to here so my readers feel more comfy interacting with me directly <3

When you get back to your apartment, you kick open the door action-movie style and flop onto the couch face down, not really caring that Dave scrambles off it like a disgruntled cat to accommodate your faceplanting.

“Woah. Who hit you with a truck?”

You grunt and drop the grocery bags on the floor, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

“Shit. Do I look like I got hit by a truck?”

“Um. No?”

The way Dave says that sounds like he’s trying really hard to hold back the truth, but you appreciate his shitty attempt to make you feel better anyways.

“You kind of always look like this.”

…Appreciated it while it lasted.

“Your apple juice.” You speak into the cushions and point at the bags without raising your head. “And your cursed puppet Applejacks.”

“Dope.”

You hear Dave pawing through the goods beside you, seeking out his sacred fruity beverage and “healthy” sugary midnight snack. You allow your mind to wander back to the memory of a tall and rippling Dirk and sigh.

Why’d you always have to act like such a buffoon whenever you found anyone attractive? It seemed like all you were good at doing was making yourself the butt of jokes. But…

You felt your face tickle with warmth recalling his hearty laughter, replaying itself like a song stuck inside your head.

You supposed a little bit of a scatterbrain was a good thing, sometimes. It helped you get into good graces with Dirk, hadn’t it? He had even told you to come see him at work, that had to count for something. You were basically engaged now, with three children and a mediocre house you’d never be able to repay the mortgage on until you were wrinkly and sixty!

Fuck. Wasn’t this supposed to be a fantasy thought? How did debt sneak into here?

You take another deep inhale to steady your increasingly pounding mind, trying to banish the thoughts of living in a cardboard box under a bridge and return to hot-man wonderland.

Unfortunately, your deep breath was a little too deep, and you realize the couch kind of smells like ass, which makes sense, because that’s literally all it ever got until an idiot decided to faceplant into it.

“Ugh, gross.”

You turn your head and eyeball Dave, who was currently analyzing the back of the cereal box with a strange amount of concentration.

“Oh shit. I didn’t realize you cared about the nutritional facts so much. I’ll get you something healthier next time.”

Dave jerks his head up, his train of thought broken.

“Huh? Nutritional facts?” He shakes the cereal box once, then twice. “Nah. I don’t care about that crap. I was just trying to find out how to get Cinna-Mon to the caramel coaster without falling into Applejack’s sweetness-snare.”

He turns the box to you and points to what you assume is the “sweetness-snare,” given it was labelled “SWEETNESS SNARE” with thirty-point comic sans font for blind nine-year olds.

“See? This puzzle is inherently flawed due to the way these paths are constructed. There’s no way any kid can solve this and enter for the Grand Prize Sweetstakes. Not cool Kellogg’s, not cool.”

Um.

You try your best to not let the “what the fuck dude?” seep out onto your facial features, but your mouth speaks faster than your blessed little heart.

“What the fuck, dude?”

You tried. Kind of.

Thankfully Dave seems unfazed, and you assume it’s because he’s completely used to your reactions to his strange comments, given he makes at least two bizarre remarks an hour.

“Yeah man. Total douchebag move by big cooperate men.”

He shakes his head in disapproval, and you realize he hadn’t understood the “what the fuck” was directed at him. You don’t really feel like correcting him, so you change the topic.

“What about the applejuice? Did big cooperate men ruin that, too?”

Dave picks up the jug and inspects it in a way that makes you wonder if big cooperate men really did ruin apple juice as well, but the way his lips pull up at the corners reassure you that your apple juice is safe from the clutches of seedy business practices, for now.

“Not at all. This is actually my favorite brand. Thanks, (y/n).”

You take note of the way he isn’t smirking like usual, and drink in how dimples form whenever he gives a heartfelt thank you. You try to burn it into your memory, but like all the other times the smile fades back into a smirk too quickly.

“Yeah, no problem.”

You ignore the twisting feeling in your stomach.

“So what else did’ya get today? You were out for a while.”

Your cheeks redden upon remembering why exactly you had taken so long and you chew on your bottom lip, not really wanting to tell Dave how you had brought the whole circus with you to the supermarket and made a spectacle of yourself.

…But then again, it’d be nice to talk to someone about how weird you got around attractive dudes. What better option than an attractive dude, himself? You’d avoid telling him that last bit, of course.

“There was… This guy.”

You rolled over and stared at the ceiling, feeling a bit squeamish facing Dave while recalling the incident. Then out of nowhere, you hear him give a shrill giggle.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” He claps his hands together and then covers his mouth, his voice taking a higher tone. “Oh my gosh, was he like, so totally hot?”

You drag your hands over your face and moan, kicking at the air.

“Holy fuck. Dave. You scared the shit out of me. Stop, you seriously sound like drunk Shawna.”

You flop back down, defeated and flustered. You swore to god this kid had a screw loose somewhere in that pretty head of his.

Dave quirked an eyebrow at your words, drawing up a knee and resting his chin on it, your sour mood putting a dampen on his perfect impression of thirsty fangirls. You can only see him out of your periphery, but the way his head is cocked still makes you swallow roughly.

Fuck. You thought you were over this.

“Okay, like you were saying?”

You sigh, folding your hands over your stomach and trying to gather your thoughts.

“I don’t really know what exactly about it is bothering me. I guess it’s that… You know…” You shrug, but it’s barely a shrug because the couch absorbs all your movement.

Dave waits for you to continue, but when you don’t he scooches closer to you. Just a bit.

“Yeeees?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes you guys are just…” You say, thinking back to the morning. How you stuttered over your words, tripped over your own two feet, right into Dirk’s strong, firm arms. His hair, his smirk, his shades.

“… So hot.”

Fuck.

You clamp your mouth shut the moment the words leave your lips, winded by your own complete idiocy, and pray to whatever god is up there that Dave missed what you said.

You dare a glance over at him and your hopes are dashed to high hell when you see that signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Oh?”

Just one word, and you knew exactly what he meant by it. A blush rages across your face, touching the tips of your ears and dusting your neck.

“Goddammit Dave! Not you!” You hesitate a bit as your mind revvs to life, then forces you to backtrack. “Well, I mean, yes, you. But—”

Dave gives you a bit of a look through the shades. What look, you weren’t sure, but damn it all if it wasn’t embarrassing.

“That’s not what I was trying to say! Shit, this is exactly what I mean.” You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing both Dirk and Dave out of your vision and mind, and exhale, defeated.

Suddenly, there’s a touch at your shoulder. Warm, reassuring. You open your eyes and refocus. It’s Dave, he’s next to you now. He still looks amused, but the sharp edges of his facial features are softer now, more patient.

“Hey,” He says. “I’m listening.”

You let yourself relax with his words, easing up on your mind. It was just Dave. Smug, smart, sexy Dave. Weird, lost, homeless Dave.

“I just feel so out of it sometimes.” You start, sitting up and crossing your legs. “I just get so nervous around people, I can’t act like myself. All I can do is think of what I want to do, what I want to say. Then I actually try to do it and just end up looking like a huge loser.”

You rub at your forearms, suddenly feeling a lot more self-conscious.

“It’s awkward, and uncomfortable. I’m awkward and uncomfortable. I honestly don’t even know how anyone’s even dealt with me until now. Maybe that’s why I’m here, living alone.”

Dave’s brows are pulled downwards but he says nothing.

“And today I met this guy at the supermarket. He knew what to say, too. He knew what to do, he was one step ahead of me and that made my fumbling weirdness even harder to hide. Guess I’m just one big lame-O.”

You put your fingers in the shape of an “o” up to your forehead with a halfhearted grin, but it promptly slips off when you see Dave’s slightly downturned lips. Your tense shoulders drop and you bury yourself in the couch, gaze cast out the window.

The crows are making their daily rounds outside the apartment and a few have stopped, as if eavesdropping on the drama.

“You’re not lame.” Dave says, then hesitates.

You glance at him, lips making this stupid pout that you know makes you look like a pufferfish because you’ve practiced it in the mirror as a joke, and now you can’t stop.

“I mean, shit. You want me to be honest? You totally are.” He shakes his head, his hair catching in the light passing through the window. “But so is everyone. We just show it in different ways. Egbert back at home used to ramble on and on about his personal vendetta against Betty Crocker, and Bro just mass produced ass-muppets whenever he was feeling off. All I did was hole myself in my room and draw on mspaint with a 2005 acer computer mouse.”

He seemed almost reminiscent while speaking, and it reminded you again that he had left things behind to come here, and would one day return to them.

“Sappy shit isn’t my strong suit, (y/n). But even an emotionally stunted dork like me knows that ‘lame shit’ becomes ‘dope as hell’ shit when you’re with the right people. Your friends love you, don’t they?”

He looks to you expectantly and you shy away from the question. Shawna and Tracy, whom you’ve been friends with through thick and thin? You recall the scene of them leaving the club together, leaving your apartment together, and something in you grows colder.

“Yeah.” You say before you can hesitate more, “They do.”

Dave stares at you and it’s as if he’s trying to burn a hole into your face. He stares and stares until you wonder if he, for once, doesn’t know what to say.

“Yeah.” He says, after an eternity of silence. “I know Bro does, too.”

The way he says that sticks a lump in your throat, and only now do you notice the phone he had clenched in his hand since you’ve come home.

“You’re not alone. You’ve got your friends.” He says again, now more adamantly. You watch as he brings his hand up and points at his chest. “And you’ve got me. And as a resident ‘hot guy’ and a Strider, I say you’re dope as fuck.”

The moment holds for a few seconds as you scrounge your mind for appropriate responses. You want to  punch him for being so smug, want to hug him, want to make fun of him for being so damn cheesy. Even though you know part of your worries stem from something only you can settle, it feels like some of the weight has been lifted from your chest, and you can finally breathe again.

“Thank you Dave.” You say, a soft smile playing at your mouth. “And you’ve got me, too.”

Dave grins and winks at you, only noticeable from the slight pull of his cheek. “Already knew it, babe.”

Without another word, he gathers the fruits of your grocery venture and wanders into the kitchen. The crows by the window caw loudly and take off now that the show’s over. The flapping of their wings catches in the setting sun and throws shadows across your floor and table, drawing your eye to Dave’s phone, left on the table. You almost miss how he’s left it open on messages, almost miss one of his many outgoing, unrecieved texts.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timeausTestified [TT] at 5:31PM--

TG: miss u, bro. come home soon.

[mage-ellie]

Going Back

Another Goro akechi x reader oneshot. I love writing fluff hkafjdshkfdh

Link to original post: Click me!

Warnings: Spoilers, fluff, angst, mentions of blood and wounds, kissing, cuddling

Word count: 6,409

Summary: Akechi's sacrifice left a bitter taste in your mouth that even Akira's amazing coffee couldn't fix. So you did the only thing you could think of doing that would help you feel better. You went back for him. You'd get him out of that criminals palace, whether he was dead or alive. He at least deserved that much, right?

You felt sick.

Goro Akechi, the 'traitor', just gave his life to save you all while in Shido's palace. He had spilled his horrific past to you all moments before his sacrifice. Shido's puppet version of Akechi said that all Akechi wanted was to be loved. To be wanted by someone. That broke your heart.

No matter how he had acted in the past, he was still a victim. A victim you couldn't save.

You couldn't deny the blossoming feelings you had for the conniving detective. Twice a week for the past 4 months, you had met up with Akechi at Jazz Jin in Kichijoji to just relax in each others presence. Most of the time, you wouldn't talk. You'd just enjoy the music and the taste of the fruity virgin cocktails that he would recommend. When you did talk, you explored all kinds of topics with him. You two would talk about your dreams, current events, work, and sometimes even the Phantom Thieves.

Akira introduced you two back in August when Akechi had stopped by Leblanc for some coffee. While you didn't immediately get along with him, he was still fun to converse with. During one of your nightly outings, you had ran into the detective at the station. He had asked if you would be interested in joining him for a drink and you had accepted. Even though he just wanted to grill you about the Phantom Thieves, you found yourself enjoying the mindless banter and before you knew it, meeting up with him at the Jazz Club had become a regular thing.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar in Leblanc with your head in your hands. Akira was behind the bar, mindlessly making coffee in an attempt to distract himself from what had just happened. Morgana was curled up on your lap, trying to comfort you.

The sound of a cup shakily being set onto the counter prompted you to lift your head. Akira's normally clean and neat coffee cream art was messy and almost unrecognizable. It was hard for him to make the cream look nice when his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Are you thinking about him?" Akira asked, his voice was deep and quiet.

You swallowed as you slid your fingers around the warm mug. "I can still hear the gun shots." You whispered. The ringing in your ears still hasn't stopped, despite it having been over an hour since the whole event happened.

Akira nodded as he made himself a cup of coffee. "Me too."

As you sipped your coffee, Akira rounded the bar to join you. Having him around was comforting, but you couldn't stay here all night, even though you wanted too.

Once you and your leader had finished the coffee's he had made, you decided to take your leave.

"It's getting late. I don't want to miss the last train." You said as you lifted the soft black and white kitty from your lap and set him on the counter.

"Goodnight Y/N. Be careful getting home." Morgana said softly, his big blue eyes filled with pity.

Akira stood from his seat and walked you to the door. Before he could open the door, you wrapped your arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. Akira has always been like a brother to you. You considered all of the Phantom Thieves to be family.

He immediately returned the hug, squeezing you tightly as you did your best to not break down sobbing. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?" He asked, gently stroking your hair.

"As much as I'd like to, I can't. I left all of my homework and school stuff at my apartment." You mumbled, mentally scolding yourself for leaving your stuff behind.

You and Akira pulled away from each other after a moment of silently reveling in each others warmth. He opened the door for you and said a quiet, "Goodnight," as you walked out.

On your short trek to the station, a thought popped into your mind. It definitely wasn't your greatest idea. You could go back for Akechi. Akira had kept you in the backlines when Akechi had challenged the Thieves because he knew of your feelings for the detective, meaning that you still had most of your strength. If anything, you could at least bring his body back to the real world. He deserved a proper funeral.

Before doubt or hesitation could sink into your caffeinated mind, you hopped onto the train that went to the Judicial district of Tokyo. Determination filled your veins as the train came to a stop at your destination. Or maybe it was adrenaline. Either would work. You just wished that you had prepared more. You didn't have any healing items, so you'd be relying on your Persona, as well as your sneaking skills.

The moment you entered Shido's palace, you sprinted towards the entrance. Your feet silently hit the ground, the speed of your sprint made your hair flow behind you. You could do this. You wanted to prove to Akechi that he was special, that he was wanted, even if he wasn't here to see it.

Shido's palace was filled to the brim with shadows who were all on high alert. The only way to traverse through his palace even somewhat safely would have to be through the vents. While you would be able to handle a few of the shadows on your own, you could easily get overwhelmed with the amount of them roaming the palace.

You weren't sure how long you had been crawling through the dusty and cramped vents, but you finally managed to find a way into the boiler room.

Silently dropping into the room from a high up vent on the far left side of the room, you crept towards the place where the detective would be. Despite the amount of shadows that had been in the room when Akechi had trapped himself in it, there were none to be seen. Thank God. Your aching muscles wouldn't be able to handle all of them.

There he was, slumped against the wall that kept the Thieves from helping him. He was sitting in a small pool of his own blood, a few bullet holes riddled his body. His head was hanging down, his body limp. He looked so small, so sad.

The sight of him made you want to scream. You were frozen in place, unable to move because of the flood of emotions that washed over your body. Regret pricked at your bones. You wished you had tried harder to show him your love. You wished you had confessed your feelings to him. You wished you had been there for him like he needed you to be.

Taking a shaky and deep breath, you willed your legs to move. Standing around in this area was dangerous and would accomplish nothing. You came here to get him out, so that's what you were going to do.

Finally, your legs moved you towards the detectives body. It took all of your strength to not start crying. You could mourn his death when you got him out, when you were safe.

You were now standing close enough to him to see the skin of his face. He looked so pale, faint tear stains were the only thing coloring his face. Gently, you crouched down beside him and gazed at his form.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lifted your hands. Your left hand removed his shattered mask and your right hand tenderly stroked the soft skin of his cheek. His skin was cold, but it wasn't freezing like you had expected it to be.

A slight movement on his face caught your attention. His piercing maroon eyes had opened ever so slightly and were trained on you.

Your heart stopped, hands froze, mind going completely blank as you stared back at the man you had thought to be dead. Goro Akechi was still alive. Was his will to survive this strong?

Carefully, you removed his helmet, his slightly damp chestnut hair fell around his face. Even like this, he looked so handsome. You lifted one of your legs and put it on the other side of him so that you were straddling his lap.

You lifted his head as softly as you could and pulled his body into yours. His head rested against your shoulder and his chest pressed into yours. You combed your fingers through his soft locks and rubbed his back as you called your persona.

"Orpheus." Your voice was barely a whisper. The stringed man appeared beside you as you gathered your strength to cast the skill Cadenza. It wouldn't heal Akechi all of the way, but it was the only healing skill your persona knew.

A warm, healing light wrapped itself around you and Akechi. The ache in your muscles lessened as Orpheus did his best to heal you both. The warmth in Akechi's skin was returning, his breaths were becoming deeper as his body took in more oxygen. His strength was returning. Slowly, Akechi wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

As the green light faded, Akechi pushed you backwards, forcing you to lay on the ground with him on top of you. His legs were in between yours and he was squeezing you as tightly as he could. His face was pressing into your neck as his body began to shake.

"It's okay. I'm here now." You whispered as you held him back with just as much force. A choked sob ripped from his throat as he began crying into your shoulder.

"I've got you. You're okay." You continuously murmured words of comfort as he broke down on top of you. You shifted slightly underneath him so that you could wrap your legs around his hips in order to hold more of him. Your mind was a jumbled mess, thinking of ways to get him out of here and what you wanted to say to him. A part of you wanted to yell at him for what he did, a larger part of you just wanted to cry and hold him forever. You wondered if he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

Your mind was struggling to comprehend that he was still alive.

"I'm sorry I took so long." You croaked, raising a hand to brush his hair out of his face. Hot tears started trickling down your cheeks as your mind came to terms with the fact that Akechi was still here. Your words only made him cry harder.

His tears were soaking into your metaverse outfit, though you didn't mind. You'd let him cry like this for as long as he needed to.

Slowly, his sobs became soft whines and his shaking body calmed down. Turning your head, you gently pressed your lips to the top of his head as you continued to stroke his hair. Akechi softly sighed into your neck and he nuzzled his face into your shoulder once more.

Finally, he lifted himself up to look at you. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were tinted pink.

You reached up and cradled his cheeks in your hands. "Let's get out of here together." He closed his eyes and leaned his face into your touch, nodding in response to your words.

Akechi pulled away from you and stood, offering you a hand to help you up. You accepted his offer and he pulled you to your feet.

"Come on. I came here through a vent at the end of the room." You pointed to the open vent and began walking towards it with the 'Princely' detective in tow. You couldn't help but wonder why he had been so quiet.

You looked up at him and scanned his face. He looked so tired. "Are you alright?" The soft tone of your voice was filled with worry. His jaw visibly clenched for a moment before he started speaking.

"This just doesn't feel real is all." He had a far away look in his eyes, like he wasn't actually looking at you, but looking through you.

You couldn't stop the dry chuckle that left your lips. You reached for his right hand with your left, entwining your fingers with his and squeezing his hand tightly. "You can say that again." Akechi gripped your hand back.

Your trek to get out of the palace with Akechi was slow and clumsy. While you had healed him for the most part, your persona couldn't give him back the blood he had lost, so he couldn't move for too long without needing to take a break. He didn't comment on his constant need to slow down, but you could tell he was annoyed. The light coming back to his eyes was making his maroon eyes glow crimson.

Currently, you were sitting in a small closet with him while he rested. His fingers were still wrapped around yours. You gently leaned your head against his shoulder and stroked his arm with your free hand in an attempt to comfort him.

"Why?" His voice was so small. You knew what he was asking. He wanted to know why you came back for him. His hand began to shake as he awaited your answer. It took you a moment to put the words together. Your nerves started to take a hold of you as you contemplated telling him your feelings for him. You should do it now, just in case this really wasn't real.

"I love you Goro." You could feel his body tense as you whispered your response. "I couldn't just leave you here alone. You deserved better than to just rot in a palace where you'd never be seen again. I wanted to give you a proper burial. You deserved that much at least." Your voice was tight. It was a struggle to force the words out as you confessed your feelings for him and how you had thought he was dead.

Goro's breathing had become shaky again as he processed your words. You didn't stop rubbing his arm or holding his hand as you let your words sink in. Even if he didn't feel the same, at least he'd know that someone out there did love him and want him around.

"I'm glad you're okay." You finished and closed your eyes as you leaned into him more, reveling in his warmth. He didn't say anything in response, but he did lean his head against yours and squeezed your hand tighter, rubbing circles gently into the back of your hand with his thumb.

You both sat in silence as he slowly took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. This was probably the first time in a long time that someone has told him that they love him like this.

"Let's keep moving." He whispered as he pulled away from you and stood. His hand was still locked around yours though, so he pulled you up with him. You collided with his chest and he pulled his hand away from yours as he wrapped his arms around you for only a moment, giving you time to hug him back before he pulled away and opened the door.

As you exited, he slid his hand back into yours. The rest of your journey through the palace with Goro went by a lot faster. It took you a while to find a saferoom where you could exit, but once you did, relief flooded your system. Even Goro visibly relaxed once you had entered the room.

Pulling out your phone, you transported the two of you to the entrance of Shido's palace.

Silently, you pulled Goro towards a busy road and hailed a taxi. He didn't question you when you pulled him into the taxi with you or when you gave the driver your address. He didn't make any comments when you led him by the hand to your empty apartment. You silently thanked your mother for being away. She was currently overseas for some business convention and wouldn't be back for another week or so.

You gave him a little tour of your home and proceeded to give him a clean shirt and a pair of pants that he could wear to bed.

Finally, you turned towards him and spoke. "I know it's late, but you should eat and drink something before you go to bed. Do you have any requests?"

Goro pondered your question for a moment. "Just something light." Was all he said before he locked himself in your bathroom to shower.

Since you didn't have much energy and you conveniently had some leftover rice from yesterday, you cut up some carrots, green onions and fried some bacon, mixing it all together to make a basic meal of fried rice. After adding a pinch of a few different spices, you had your light dinner complete.

You set up two spots at your kitchen table with a bowl of rice and a cup of water, just in time because Goro walked out of the bathroom after you set the cups down.

You watched as Goro took a deep breath and eyed the food on the table. "Should I have made more?" You asked, observing the way he looked like he wanted to devour your serving too.

"Perhaps." He mumbled, still staring at the food from the hallway. You brought a hand up to your chin for a moment to think.

"Why don't you go figure out how to work the laundry machine, and I'll add eggs to the menu? How to you like your eggs cooked and how many would you like?" You spoke as you turned your back to him and walked towards the fridge.

"Two please, and surprise me." When you turned back around to look at him, he was gone. Since he didn't have a preference, you decided to make them sunny side up. By the time you had plated the eggs, he was sitting at his spot at the table, patiently waiting for you.

Goro said a soft, "Thank you," as you set his plate of eggs by his rice. All you did was smile at him in response before beginning to eat.

It didn't take the two of you long before you both finished eating. He oh-so-generously offered to do the dishes for you while you took a shower, which you gratefully accepted. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Once you finished and walked out of the bathroom, you noticed Goro had made himself comfortable on your couch.

"I hope you don't mind, but I stole a blanket from your room." He didn't look at you as he said that, he was just staring at the TV.

"Are you not going to sleep in my bed with me?" Your question caused him to snap his head to the side to look at you. A look of uncertainty crossed his eyes.

"Only a few hours ago I had tried to kill you and all of your friends." His voice was sharp, harsh, but you could tell that it wasn't directed at you.

"Only a few hours ago you sacrificed yourself to protect me and all of my friends. I didn't crawl through dozens of vents to find you to just let you sleep on my couch." You retorted. Your heart tightened at the memory of what he did.

"You thought I was dead." He responded, his voice not as abrasive as before.

"I had planned on giving you a proper burial, a whole funeral. Thankfully, I don't have to do that, so the least I can do is give you a proper bed to sleep in tonight. Come on." You didn't leave any room for arguing as you turned and headed to your room.

You could hear the TV turn off and the sound of footsteps sounded softly through the hall as Goro made his way to your room. You turned off your lights, leaving only the lamp by your bed on.

He stood at the entrance of your room, looking unsure as you slid into bed. When you made eye contact with him, you opened your arms and opened and closed your hands, signifying that you wanted him to come to you.

He just stared at you, unmoving.

"Goro." You said softly, hoping that he would join you.

In the dim, warm light, you noticed him swallow, his adams apple bobbed as he did so. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he eyed you from where he stood. Slowly, he began walking towards you, the uncertainty in his eyes was blinding. You were beginning to worry that you were making him uncomfortable.

For a moment, he just stood beside you, looking down at you. Your arms were still open to him, inviting him to you.

Finally, he crawled on top of you and laid down like he had done back in Shido's palace. He hooked his arms around the arch of your back and pressed his face into the left side of your neck. His breathing immediately became shaky as he made contact with you.

You reached over and turned off your lamp, letting the darkness consume your room, before you slid your fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. His grip around you tightened as he held back his tears.

"It's okay. You're safe now." You whispered into his hair as you continued to soothe him. He finally let go and cried into your shoulder. His body was wracked with sobs and hiccups. His shoulders shook and his arms were trembling.

You gently hooked your legs around his as you kissed him repeatedly on the top of his head. His left hand slid up your back so that it was resting in between your shoulder blades in an attempt to hold more of you.

You weren't sure how long you've both been laying like this, but you definitely knew that neither of you were going to go to school in the morning. After all that's happened, you deserved a break, plus you were worried that Goro might have a breakdown if you left him for too long. His mind must be a mess after causing himself to have a psychotic breakdown.

Eventually, his sobs quieted, but he was still shaking. You wondered if he's ever been held like this. That thought made your heart ache.

"Did you mean it?" His voice was hoarse and deep.

You reached over and pushed the hair out of his face. "Did I mean what?" You asked softly, still combing your fingers through his hair.

"Did you mean it when you said you loved me?" His shaking got worse after he clarified.

You exhaled slowly as you held him tighter against you. "Of course I meant it. I love you so much, Goro Akechi." The beating of your heart increased as you confessed once again. Goro could definitely feel your heartbeat this time.

Goro pulled his arms out from under you and propped himself up onto his forearms, so that he was hovering above you. You could feel his breath fan across your lips from how close he was.

"Say it again." His lips brushed against yours as he whispered that, causing a shiver to go down your spine.

You could barely make out his russet eyes in the darkness of your room, only being lit by the light of the moon. Tenderly, you reached up and cradled his face like you had done back in Shido's palace.

"I love you Goro." You gently pulled his face down to yours. He didn't try to stop you as you did.

Goro's lips pressed against yours in a soft, unmoving kiss. You both held this position for who knows how long.  

You relaxed out of the kiss, pulling your lips away from his, only to have him quickly close the distance and kiss you again. Your lips began melding with Goro's in a slow and steady rhythm, gently sucking on each others lips, savoring this moment.

His lips were soft and warm and he tasted so sweet. You didn't want this moment with him to end. He must've thought the same thing because he slid his arms under your upper back and rested his body against yours, keeping you from pulling too far away from him.

After a few minutes of your heart warming make out session, he pulled away, his nose was brushing against yours as he hovered above you once again. You opened your eyes to look at him. The darkness of your room kept you from seeing most of his face.

He removed one of his arms from underneath you and brought it up to hold your right hand, which was still holding his face. Goro leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to yours as he gently stroked the back of your hand.

You sighed softly as you rubbed your fingers over his cheeks.

"I..." He began. If your heart wasn't beating fast before, it definitely was now. It took him several moments before he was able to finish his thought. "I love you too." His voice was deep and velvety, firm. Goro meant it.

You couldn't stop the smile that spread across your cheeks. You squeezed his face between your hands and rubbed your nose against his as you softly chanted, "I love you," over and over. He responded with a chuckle and did the same thing, only to say, "This is grossly cheesy," and pull away from you to lay on the other side of your bed.

Though, he wouldn't let you sleep too far from him because he grabbed your arms and pulled you onto his chest.

"You love it." You quipped, nuzzling your head into his warm chest as he hooked his arms around your waist once again. Your consciousness immediately began drifting into sleep as you got comfortable on the detective.

"I suppose I do." His voice sounded so far away in your sleep hazed mind, but you still heard it. You also felt the chaste kiss he gave you on the top of your head before you passed out from exhaustion.

-----------

Despite his exhaustion, Goro couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He still couldn't believe that this was real. He was afraid that when he did fall asleep, he'd wake up alone in that boiler room, dying from blood loss.

How could he believe that this was real? You had come back for him, not only that, but you loved him back and were currently passed out on his chest. The sight of you softly breathing beside him pulled at his heartstrings.

If this truly was real, he wouldn't take it for granted. Goro couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve this, but he wouldn't break your heart like he did back in Shido's palace. Not again. He clearly remembered the look on your face when he confronted you all in the boiler room. He remembered the tone of your voice as you cried out for him when he had trapped himself with Shido's cognitive version of himself and the shadows.

You sounded so broken, so angry. Even when he had caused himself to have a psychotic breakdown and tried to kill you all, he couldn't stop the weird feeling he got whenever he looked at you as you broke down in Futaba's arms. He felt so gross, disgusting, for doing what he was doing. He never wanted to feel that again.

He wanted to feel that warm and tingly feeling he got when he opened his eyes and saw you, kneeling beside him. The look of pain and concern written across your face, only to dissolve into shock and what he could only describe as a mix of relief and terror when you made eye contact with him.

He had held on for as long as he could, hoping, praying that someone, anyone would come back for him, and you did. He wasn't sure if you were the person he expected the least, or the most. Besides Akira, you were the closest one to him, but since he did what he did, he didn't expect you to be the one to come back for him.

Goro held you just a bit tighter as his mind went over the feelings and memories he had. He melted when you gently rubbed circles over his rapidly beating heart, silently comforting him.

You were so kind, and warm, and loving. He wasn't sure what he did to deserve someone like you.

And before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep as well.

-----------

You had made sure to turn off your alarm before you went to sleep so you could sleep in, so the sound of something beeping made you groan. Rolling over, you squinted up at Goro who was sitting on the edge of your bed, turning off his alarm.

"What are you doing?" You mumbled, almost falling back asleep immediately. Your eyes hurt from how tired you felt.

"We have school today you know." He smiled down at you, dark circles surrounded his eyes. You couldn't believe what he was saying. He nearly died last night and he's talking about going to school today. If you had the strength, you would've laughed.

Slowly, you sat up and crawled over to him, only to wrap your arms and legs around him and pull him back onto your bed. "No." Was all you said as you pulled your blankets back over the two of you. He seemed to accept his fate of ditching school with you because he rolled over and pulled you into him. Goro brought one of his hands to rest on the back of your head and the other held you by your hips.

It didn't take you long before you slipped back into dreamland.

-

This time when you woke up, you were alone. Panic and dread immediately sunk into your soul as you reached for your phone. It was currently noon and there were over a dozen text messages from the other Thieves, asking where you were and if you were okay.

You quickly slid out of bed as questions slammed themselves into your mind. Had that all been a dream? Was Goro actually dead?

But before you could come up with any more devastating questions, the door to your bedroom opened and you launched yourself at the detective who was entering. You stood on the tips of your toes and locked your arms around his neck. Goro immediately grabbed onto you and held you back with an iron grip.

"Sorry. Did I scare you?" His tone was light and airy, full of warmth. All you did was nod in response as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, clinging to him with all of your might.

It was Goro's turn to stroke your hair and rub your back to comfort you. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you slowly calmed down. Taking deep breaths, you let go of his shirt and played with the ends of his hair as you took in his scent. It wasn't just a dream.

"I made breakfast." He mumbled into your hair as he slowly began to rock side to side, swaying to the beat of a song you couldn't hear.

You relaxed your tensed muscles and leaned into him, enjoying the sweet moment you were sharing with him for a bit before you let go.

Goro took your hand and led you to your kitchen and sat you down. He served you a plate of eggs, bacon and rice. "No pancakes?" You joked, smirking up at him.

He immediately frowned and sighed. "I never want to hear that word again." His response made you laugh. A small smile twitched at the ends of his lips as you giggled.

You both ate in a peaceful silence before your phone buzzed, receiving a flood of messages from your worried friends. "We're going to tell them that you're alive, right?" You asked, looking away from your phone, eyes locking with his.

His eyes darted away from your gaze. "If you want." It's clear he didn't want to talk about this, but the other Thieves deserved to know.

"Obviously I want to. The others were upset by your sacrificed too, you know." Your voice was soft, but he still wouldn't look at you. "Akira wants to send the calling card ASAP, so we'll be meeting at Leblanc once everyone gets out of school. We can tell them then." Goro only sighed. You wanted to give him a bit of time to prepare.

In the mean time, you responded to your friends texts, saying you were okay and you just needed to take a mental health day because of what had happen. They all understood why. It's not like you kept your feelings for Goro a secret from them.

-

As 4:30 P.M. rolled around, you and Goro finally got dressed. You had spent the day cuddling with him on your couch, watching movies together.

Once you were ready to go, you paused and looked up at him. "Are you ready?" You asked, concern filling your voice as you scanned his face.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He responded. His face remained stoic as he spoke, but you could see the turmoil swimming in his eyes. "Are you ready for the stern lecture you're going to receive from Makoto for going back into Shido's palace alone?" He smirked at you this time, probably enjoying the terror that crossed your face.

"Yup." You squeaked, causing him to laugh. He clearly didn't believe you at all.

Goro gently grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of your apartment and to the subway station.

Upon arriving at Leblanc, you noticed that you were the last ones to arrive. Goro's hand was shaking ever so slightly as he gazed at the door. You looked up at him, prompting him to turn his gaze down towards you. You gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand. He released a shaky breath and smiled back down at you.

He walked in first, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was. The sound of the bell above the door ringing signaled to the others that you had arrived. They all lifted their heads and directed their attention towards you.

You watched as their faces paled and shock took over. Their eyes widened and their mouths dropped open.

For a long moment, no one said or did anything other than stare. That was until Akira stood from his seat at the bar and walked up to Goro. Akira didn't hesitate to pull Goro into a hug. You backed away from the boys as the others came out of their shock.

"Y/N. What the fuck did you do?" Ryuji said, not looking away from Goro.

"Witchcraft." You joked, not taking your eyes off of Goro as he slowly returned Akira's hug. A smile pulled at your cheeks as you watched him relax slightly into Akira, his only other friend. He clearly wasn't going to show any more affection than that.

Haru was the next to stand and make her way to the boys. She came up beside them and hugged them both.

Goro visibly tensed as Haru hugged him.

Before you knew it, everyone was hugging Goro. The sight made your heart sing. He still had a lot to make up for, but for now, the Thieves put that aside to show him just how happy they were that he was alive.

"Alright. That's enough." Goro spoke up, pulling away from Akira and wiggling himself out of the group.

"Aww you loved it." You teased as you looked at him. All he did was scoff and roll his eyes.

"Now." Makoto spoke, suddenly standing right in front of you. Your body immediately tensed and you instinctively took a step back. "You went back for him? Alone?" Her tone was harsh, she was definitely angry with you.

"Yes ma'am." You squeaked as you shrunk under her intense gaze.

"Lighten up Mako-chan. If N/N-chan hadn't done that, Akechi wouldn't be here with us now. Besides, she seems to have made it out just fine." Haru spoke up in your defense. You couldn't thank Haru enough because her reasoning caused Makoto to relax a bit.

"I suppose you're right, but don't do anything like that again, understood?" You nodded vigorously in response. She seemed satisfied with your answer because she turned away from you and made her way back to her seat.

For a moment, you locked eyes with Goro, who was smirking at you from his seat at the bar. You gave him a half-hearted glare in response.

Goro spread his legs a bit and gestured for you to come over and stand in front of him while you all spoke about the calling card. You sighed softly and walked over to him. He slipped his arms around your waist once you got to him.

Ann stared at you for a moment as the detective shamelessly clung to you. "So like, are you both..." She trailed off towards the end of her sentence, not sure if she should finish it or not.

A blush quickly spread over your cheeks as everyone turned and looked at you both again. You tilted your head back slightly and looked at Goro, who was looking expectantly at you, waiting for your answer. You could only assume that Ann was asking if you were dating.

Looking away from him and not meeting the eyes of the others, you said, "Yes," in a soft voice. A few of them cheered and others groaned as they all took out their wallets. Apparently, they had placed bets on whether you two would get together.

Goro's grip on you tightened as you pinched the bridge of your nose due to the fact that the Thieves were now arguing over who got how much money.

"I love you Y/N." He whispered into your ear, gently nuzzling his nose into your hair. His voice warmed your heart.

Turning your head to face him, you whispered, "I love you too Goro." A smile breaking out onto your face.

Thankfully, the Thieves didn't seem to notice your little moment with him.

[koukouture]

What I would feed you based on your Draja class

My Tik Tok is flopping so I’m doing this here

(disclaimer: these are jokes) 

Soul Dancers - Pastries

You guys are so cool and nice, I don’t really see a lot of you guys anymore, everyone is a phantom sound or reaper now. So here, have some pastries, you deserve it :)

Phantom sounds - Literal Garbage

Ya’ll are persistent and nasty as fuck. Plus, I’m sure money can get rid of all of that trash somehow. You guys steal my kills so here, I’m giving you my trash 

Puppeteers - a full five star meal 

I am so sorry for existing on the same plane as you, and I’m sorry for wasting your time with this post please walk on like the sexc ass king/queen/monarch you are

Blade Masters - Ramen

Every blademaster I’ve met is really chill, so here, have some ramen 

Reapers - Chocolate Milkshakes

I just like chocolate milkshakes, I’ve never talked to another reaper and they aren't as annoying in pvp as phantom sounds and their stupid aoe

Gunslingers - A fruit platter

Uh... idk. You guys seem nice enough, idk what you like but everyone likes fruit platters, right?

Assassins - Something peach flavoured

Idk how to explain is, but ya’ll are fruity and chill. So, have some peaches 

.

.

Bonus

Whales - Osho/King Blade’s dick

I will not elaborate on this further, but all you need to know is that if you’re a whale, you can suck on a sandpaper cock and I hope you never have another orgasm in your life. I also hope that your resident Soul Dancer never heals you in pvp :)

F2ps - Literally anything you want

I can never find any of you but ya’ll deserve the world 

[mable-stitchpunk]

FNAFTOBER Prompts- #17: Fruity Haze

Chrissy frowned down at the arcade machine as she ran out of time. Her blue eyes downcast underneath her curly, blond bangs. She had been so close to completing the level, and she needed to complete the level if she was going to win the life-sized pink Puppet plush from the prize corner. She was so disappointed that she could cry.

Except then the Puppet himself appeared on the other side of the machine with a wide smile. "I think I found a way for you to get the rest of the fruit!" he chirped. He pointed at the screen. "Let's go in and get it!"

Chrissy's eyes widened in surprise. "We can?! How?!"

"I'll use my magic to put us into the game! But we'll have to be careful not to get lost," Marionette warned. He then grabbed her hand and dove into the screen, pulling her with him.

It was less like dropping into a game and more like falling through an open window. She landed on the spongy black ground, surrounded by glowing green walls and lines of big pieces of fruit. By now Chrissy was smiling wide with excitement, and the Puppet started to float down one of the paths.

"Follow me!"

Chrissy eagerly ran after him, but instead of catching up he went a little faster, always a half a dining room away. Not that she was worried once she started to run through the fruit and the score in the bottom corner of her vision began to slowly raise. She almost squealed happily as she continued to run after him, following him around a corner and down between the glowing green walls.

As she collected more fruit and the points got higher, she began to run faster, and soon she was zooming through the maze behind the Puppet. She must've picked up a powerup too, because when she looked behind her, she could see a trail of fruit trying to catch up with her. But she couldn't stop or she would run out of time, so she kept on, following the Puppet through a tight section of alternating walls.

Until she came out on the other side, surrounded by three paths of black halls and green walls and no Puppet to guide her. She stood there in confusion while listening to the soft chirping of the fruit catching up to her and adding to the point tally. Only once it all caught up did she realize how silent the world was around her. There was no music, no footsteps, no chimes, just a heavy silence.

"Mari!" Chrissy called. If it was this quiet then surely, he would hear her, except that he didn't call back. She couldn't hear any of his chimes or music either. She walked into the center of the three-way branch of paths, her footsteps echoing loudly across the halls and into the dark space above. She couldn't see the screen where she came through. "Mari, where are you?"

"Over here."

His voice faintly reached over the walls and made it to her ears. Perking, Chrissy began to run down the path straight in front of her, thinking that was where his voice was calling from. "Where?"

"Over… Here."

"Slow down!" Chrissy cried pleadingly. She was running as fast as she could but everything looked the same. Endless walls of glowing green. "I can't find you!"

"…Here."

His voice didn't sound right. It sounded staticky and strange, wavering in tone and volume. It didn't sound like him. Chrissy slowed down as she came up to a corner, realizing he would be just around the corner.

"Mari?" she quietly asked. She was rewarded with a sound like low, thick static. It was beginning to scare her, but she needed to find him, and so she inched around the corner and peeked down the next hall.

There he was with his back towards her. Chrissy stepped out from behind the corner timidly and started to walk towards him. Her footsteps were so loud as she crept up behind him and stopped only ten feet away.

"Mari…?" Chrissy asked timidly. Suddenly he spun around and she jumped-… but relaxed as soon as she saw his usual, friendly smile.

"There you are, slowpoke! I was starting to get worried!" the Puppet trilled and offered a hand to her. Her face broke into a relieved smile and she ran to him with an outstretched hand. Her fingers were so close that they almost brushed the soft fabric of his own.

Until the car smashed into him with a deafening crACK.

She didn't even see where it came from. It was as though it came straight through the wall without breaking it or smashing through it, hitting the Puppet and running over him in one fell swoop. Chrissy could see his busted-up body lying limply between the tires, shattered apart like a glass dropped on a clean kitchen floor. His hand still reaching for her across the ground.

"MARI!" Chrissy screamed. She ran for him but was stopped as the car suddenly whipped into reverse, almost hitting the maze wall which now seemed to slide back to accommodate it. The headlights now stared her down and she stared back with glassy, blue eyes filled with terror. She couldn't control herself, all she could do was turn and run.

Suddenly the maze was louder. Her footsteps deafened by the revving of the car behind her which gained on her an inch at a time. It didn't matter how fast she was, because even her super speed couldn't outrun the tires of that bellowing vehicle. The black ground became slick and muddy, and gunky, pulling at her feet until she was fighting to free her legs. It smelled like trash and hot asphalt, and it climbed her legs like tar.

That was when she saw the growing glow around her and the reflections of the headlights on the ever-stretching walls in front of her. She screamed and hid under her arms as the car ran her over.

Then there was darkness. Darkness, screaming, and crying.

And the sound of footsteps as she fought with the tightness wrapped around her body. As the bedroom door opened and the lights fell into the room, she realized it was just her puffy, pink comforter. She felt no better. The realization it was a nightmare only made her cry harder as she reached for her mother who was coming with welcoming arms.

"Sweetie, did you have a bad dream? It's okay, shh. We're here, it's over," her mother hushed her. Her father turned on the bedside lamp and came to sit on the bed beside her.

"We're here, Kitty. There's nothing to worry about," he added in. They both held her and she whimpered as the tears began to slow. "Do you want to talk about it?" She nodded shakily.

"I-I was in Fruity Maze and I was looking for Mari, and I found Mari, and then thi-this car c-came out and- a-and…" Chrissy began to sob harder once again at the memory. "And he hit Mari! That bad guy hit Mari and chased me and hit me too!" As her parents held her and comforted her, they exchanged concerned glances. Her father gently pet her head.

"I bet it was scary, huh? But you don't have to be afraid. That bad man was taken away to a place where he'll never hurt anyone again," he assured her. "You're safe in your bed and Mari's safe in his."

"Ma-Mari doesn't sleep in a bed, Daddy. He sleeps in a box," Chrissy said. She was starting to calm down again.

"Oh, right. Then he's safe in his box. Only thing he's in danger of is getting a real bad stiff neck," he said, trying to keep a playful tone to ease the mood. It looked like it was starting to help and he started to pick up some of her plush toys that had fallen on the floor. She used to sleep with one; in the last week she had began sleeping with all of them lined in a wall. "That goes for Mini Mari here too."

Chrissy accepted the Puppet plush and clutched it to her chest. It almost made her feel better. Her mother noticed and after a moment with a torn look, considering what she was about to say, she made an offer.

"How about we go to Foxy's tomorrow so you can see Mari for yourself?" she offered. Chrissy's eyes widened and she looked up in surprise at her mother.

"Really?!" Her parents hadn't let her go over to Foxy's since… But she missed it, and Mari, even if she felt a slight tinge of fear. "You and Daddy'll come with me?"

"Of course! We'll be there the whole time," her mother promised.

Chrissy hugged her mother happily while the tears slowly dried up. She couldn't wait to go back, to play her games again and have everything be like it used to. It was almost enough to forget the nightmare.

Without her knowing, her parents had a silent conversation. Her father got a questioning look, her mother got a look of certainty and nodded, and her father did so as well. They agreed, if this was what Chrissy needed to feel better then they would give it to her.

They had almost lost her once already.

[marek-szabo]

i been going hard 'til my eyes roll backward all i wanna do is forget about my past and smoke a little weed, really nothing too drastic

The flight to London was dreaded but necessary. Wet, heavy clouds sheeted across the sky once Marek landed, greeting him with gloom. It was familiar, having worked here for months before the quarantine was set, and he welcomed the idea of diving back into the hectic work schedule he’d always known. Some of the rest of the hair and makeup crew along with some members of costume design all planned a night out for them. Starting their time back in London with a bang, and Marek was happy to join in, already craving the sweet taste of fruity drinks followed swiftly by the bitter drip of cocaine.

✩

Loud, thumping music made the area seem smaller than it was, bodies huddled close together and moving in sync. He bobbed his head along, letting his hips sway to the recognizable beat of the song. The bar was long, and overcrowded, but he needed a drink. “I’ll be right back,” he said to his group. He smiled, shaking his shoulders a little as he said, “Mama needs a drink!”

He made his way back to a more secluded area, and by secluded it was really just an elevated seating area with a private bar, roped off with some of the tables receiving bottle service. Once the bouncer was looking away, he ducked under the roped off area, straightening up and walking through the area like he was meant to be there. It was easy enough grabbing a drink from the bartender, and he managed to convince her to put it on the guy across the bar’s tab. Pulling his phone out, he shot a quick text to his friend telling them to meet him over here for him to get them drinks before they made it out to the dance floor. He leaned against the bar, sipping his drink, when he glanced over in the far corner.

The table wasn’t anything special, a few people seated and a few dancers focusing their attention on some of the patrons. One such patron was practically slumped over as the busty blonde danced filthily against him, her hips pressed firmly against his. His eyes were unfocused, heavily lidded, and Marek could see from all the way over here how his jaw ticked as his teeth ground together. Once the song ended, the dancer’s mouth read out, payment, baby, and the man’s hand shoved in his suit jacket, fumbling around for his wallet. He managed to finally find it, and pulled out five hundreds, squinting his eyes further as he did his best to count out how much he owed her. Her hand rested over his, folding the bills as she placed a kiss on his cheek, taking all five bills, tucking them into her tiny g-string before walking away.

“Shit,” Marek muttered, downing the rest of his drink, making his way over to the man. “You okay?” Marek asked, hand quickly reaching out to prevent the man from completely falling over and face planting in the velvet lined booth. The man he used what strength was left in his body to flinch away from Marek’s help, causing himself to tip over.

“Get your fucking hands off of me,” is what Marek guessed he said, though it sounded more like one continuous word mumbled into the seat of the booth.

Marek held his hands up in surrender. “Hey man, I’m just trying to help.”

The man eventually pulled himself back up into a sitting position, looking more like a crumpled puppet than the demanding force he was no doubt used to being. “Well, fuck off,” the gruff British voice snapped back. Marek raised his brows and nodded, turning away just as a different blonde approached them.

“Jamie, come dance with me,” the pretty girl pouted, holding out both her hands to take his and pull her with him.

Two hours later, and Marek was positive that his friends forgot about him. When they returned his text with a garbled response, he decided he was thankful they never found him in the VIP area. He’d realized easily that he liked it more back here than out on the dance floor, anyway. He’d made it his objective of the evening to get as drunk as possibly could for free.

“Need a drink?” A familiar voice asked beside him, and a firm hand clapped down on his shoulder, jostling him a little.

Marek turned to look, and realized it was the guy that was so fucked up he couldn’t open his eyes a couple hours ago. Jamie. He looked fine now though, Marek noticed, and he figured he’d probably had a good bit of water since the last time he’d seen him, and had managed to sober up enough to function. Water, or cocaine. Either or.

Marek hadn’t responded yet when suddenly Jamie shouted, “Get this man a fucking drink,” causing Marek to jump. His words were forceful, yet a little bit slurred, and were far too loud for even the pulsating club around them. The bartender looked at him with an unimpressed glance, but made the drinks he ordered for them anyway.

“Now that you have a drink,” Jamie said, sipping at his whiskey neat, “Time for a dance.”

Immediately, Marek’s brow knitted together, a little thrown that Jamie was asking him to dance with him. When Jamie nodded in the direction of the girls twisting and writhing on the platforms in front of them, Marek understood what he’d actually meant.

“No, thanks,” Marek said with a shake of his head. “Not my thing.”

Jamie’s lips formed a small o as he understood. “Well, we have plenty of lads to choose from as well.”

“I’m good,” Marek said, polishing off the rest of his drink. He shot Jamie a tight smile, nodding towards the empty glass. “Thanks for the drink. Take care of yourself,” he said, standing up. His words seemed to make Jamie pause, his excited expression turning into one of thought.

Marek gave him a tight lipped wave goodbye and laid some cash on the bar top, gesturing to the bartender so that she knew it was her tip. He shoved his way through the crowd, inhaling deeply as he finally made his way outside. Even though it was spring, the night air was tinged with cold, the prickling feeling welcome on Marek’s overheated body. He grabbed a cab back to his rented home for the duration of his work here, and did his best not to fall asleep in the back seat. He almost considered FaceTiming Sophie when he got in, but then he remembered with disdain that timezones were a thing, and that they likely weren’t awake just yet. He threw his phone to the other side of the bed, and closed his eyes, doing his best to ignore the cold sheets and empty space on the other side of the large bed, falling asleep alone just as he’d done for years.

[maine-writes]

5. Vonvon Bakes

It was time for Beach City's annual Beach Bake-Off. A number of tents, stalls, and impromptu kitchens were set up on the beach and a massive crowd gathered on the boardwalk, attracted by the alluring scent of bread and other baked goods.

Mayor Fryman would always start the festivities with an awkward speech, then introduce the judges. This year it was Mr. Smiley, the manager of several businesses in the city; Bill Dewey, manager of the Big Donut; and this year's celebrity guest judge, Sadie Miller, director of the recent hit horror sci-fi, Night of the Undead Alien Teen.

The judges navigated their way through the sea of people, between the rows of kitchen stalls, sampling the baked goods found within. Traditional apple pies, tasteful crumbles, exotic puddings, and wonderfully whimsical pastries. There was even an entry by Spacetries: Their famous purple yam polvoron.

Despite being under new management, the space-themed bakery continued to create delicious snacks and pastries.

Then they came to "Cooky's Cookies." The stall, at first, seemed abandoned. But as soon as they approached it, a silly, googly-eyed sock puppet popped up from underneath the counter.

"Hiya folks!" Said the sock puppet, speaking with an exaggerated and silly voice, almost like a Muppet. "Wanna try these 'cookies' of mine? Ignore the quotations."

"Quotations?" Sadie asked, visibly worried.

"IGNORE THEM!" The puppet screamed before disappearing beneath the counter for but a moment, returning with a sizzling hot cookie sheet of freshly baked cookies.

"Eat."

The cookies seemed mundane enough, golden brown, studded with chocolate chips that were soft and semi-melted.

The judges nervously picked up a cookie, and were understandably surprised at how they generated an audible humming noise and pulsated slightly in their hands.

"What's in these?" Asked Mr. Smiley.

"100% natural ingredients!" The sock puppet replied. "I collected it all myself!"

"Yes, but what's in it?" Dewey repeated.

"Tasty Cooky things. EAT! Ignore the spelling."

One by one, the judges inched the suspect cookies to their open mouths.

Suddenly, the loud boom of a nearby kitchen disaster caught the judges by surprise. As the cookies hit the soft sand, they shattered like panes of glass, even sounding like it.

"No! My children!" Screamed the sock puppet. The judges took advantage of the suspect sock's emotional and dramatic moment and snuck away.

Then they came to the stall of Vonvon. As they approached the stall, a strange smell caught their attention. It was sweet like honey, slightly smokey, and reminiscent of burnt cheese with green tea. Vonvon was standing in front of an exploded oven, covered in the fruity filling of their pie.

"Hey guys!" They called, waving over to the judges. "Minor setback, the Everything Pie exploded."

"Are you even old enough to use an oven?" Dewey inquired.

"No."

"Okay then."

Ignoring the fruity filling in their hair, Vonvon took the remaining ingredients and whatever survived the explosion and made a cobbler.

"The Everything Cobbler!" Announced the child. "It has everything; apples, peaches, strawberries, blueberries, blackcurrant, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla ice cream, green tea, chocolate, and purple yam."

"That's not exactly everything." Sadie joked.

"I had pepperoni, meatballs, pizza sauce, pineapples, pinecones, crabs, sardines, lettuce, and mustard." Vonvon added. "But I used it all in the pie."

Simultaneously, the judges privately acknowledged that they dodged a bullet. Twice.

@artsycooky13

[alarajrogers]

Untitled Picard/Q-ish fic

This is very rough -- no beta, we die like women -- and I don’t even have a title for it yet, but I wanted to get it out there because it’s late. It was supposed to be for Tapestry Day, Feb. 15th.

It is very subtle Picard/Q, and could be interpreted as friendship rather than romantic feelings, because that is how I roll. It’s set in the current Star Trek: Picard series (up through episode 5), and explains why Q hasn’t been around to help Picard with things like supernovas killing billions of people (and for that matter other things that are spoilers so I won’t mention them but would affect his son.)

There was someone sitting in his study.

There was someone sitting in his study, and Laris and Zhaban were nowhere to be found. Quietly Picard edged toward where one of the various hidden phasers that Laris and Zhaban insisted on hiding in his study, dining room, bedroom and pretty much everywhere was stashed.

“You’re not very stealthy in your old age, mon amiral,” a voice said. A voice that was familiar, but that he hadn’t heard in… had it been decades? At least twelve years, to be sure.

“Q!” Picard stepped forward into the study, unable to control the joyful smile on his face. As soon as he was close, though, he took half a step back, literally taken aback by what he saw.

Q looked old.

Not as old as Picard himself, perhaps, but his face was lined and worn, his dark hair shot through with silver. He also had facial hair, a mustache and a brushing of beard on his chin and jawline.

“You look almost happy to see me,” Q said. “Well, you did. Now you just look shocked.”

“I never expected to see you age,” Picard said. “But I suppose you can take the form of an old man as easily as you took the form of a young one.”

Q smiled wryly. “I can, yes, but… there’s always been an element of truth in how I appear to you. I’m not doing this to make some sort of commentary on the fact that you’ve aged… a terrible mortal habit, there, but I don’t imagine I’ll break you of it any time soon.”

“No, I think not,” Picard agreed, nodding. “Are you saying you feel old?” He sat down in the chair that faced Q. “I remember when you told me of your new responsibilities in the Continuum, you said they’d age you prematurely, but I took it for a joke.”

“It was a joke. That’s not… why.” Q closed his eyes. “I know you called for me. You asked me for my help, didn’t you? And I didn’t come.”

“I… assumed that your responsibilities had become too onerous to spend time in the company of mortals anymore,” Picard said, carefully.

It had hurt. When Starfleet had refused to help the Romulans, when there were so many stranded and desperate and Picard had no resources to save them… he had called out to Q. Better to owe his omnipotent sometime-nemesis, sometime-companion something than to cling to his human pride and let billions die.

Q hadn’t come. Picard hadn’t seen him since… since several months before the supernova. Q had said nothing, then, to imply that he wasn’t going to come back.

Picard had spent a long time convincing himself not to feel betrayed by that.

“No, no,” Q said. “I’d have made time for you, if not…” He shook his head. “The one time you break down and spontaneously call for my help, and it had to be for this.”

“So there was a reason for it.”

“A very good reason.” Q snapped his fingers, and a glass of something alcoholic appeared in his hand. Another one appeared on the end table next to Picard.  “Not the house brand, but I imagine occasionally you indulge in something you didn’t grow yourself?”

“Occasionally,” Picard said. Q would get to the point, eventually, and he had learned patience. He picked up the glass and breathed deeply of the aroma. “This is… actually from Betazed, if I don’t mistake it?”

Q nodded. “Adwana wine. Not particularly strong as alcohol goes, not to humans, but it interferes with telepathy.”

“Are we worried about telepaths?”

“Not… exactly.” Q took a sip. “When I’m in human form, the same brain centers that mediate telepathy in humanoids allow me to connect back to the Continuum. I’m not, currently, an extradimensional being driving a puppet around. This is me, mostly.”

The wine tasted rather like sake, but with a sweet undertone that was distinctly fruity and yet wholly un-grape-like. Almost like… blackberries, he thought. But not quite. “You’re shutting down your powers. Why?”

“I don’t want to have them right now,” Q said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, the Calamarain’s not going to show up on your doorstep. I can’t possibly fully shut myself down with a drink or two. I just… I don’t want to be so aware of it.”

“I suppose you have your reasons.” Picard set the drink down. It really wasn’t to his taste.

“And you’re just waiting with bated breath for me to tell you what they are, aren’t you?”

“That is why you’re dropping hints, I think.”

“You know me so well.” He twirled the drink in his hand. “Tell me, Picard. You had hypotheses, I’m sure. What did you guess was the reason I didn’t come when you called?”

“I’ve said. I thought your responsibilities—”

“There were other things you thought, though.”

“So I see the adwana isn’t interfering with your telepathy that much.”

Q shook his head. “I’m not reading your mind, but I know you.” He leaned closer to Picard. “Jean-Luc, there has never been a day in your life when you haven’t been considering multiple possibilities for everything that happens.”

“Well, I thought perhaps you were forbidden to interfere. Or—”

“Or?”

“Or that… well, why would you care about humans? You have your own life in the Continuum. You have a son. Perhaps your… interest in me was… a passing thing. Something you have no need for, anymore.”

“Mon amiral. Sometimes you don’t know me at all.” Q sounded mock-hurt. “But then, I imagine the truth would be… impossible for you to guess at.” He leaned forward. “I didn’t abandon you willingly, Jean-Luc. Yes, I had more going on in the Continuum than I’ve had in billions of years, but… in the Continuum, I’m a leader now. People look up to me. I’m not sure I have friends there even now. Allies, comrades-in-arms, but… no Q sees me as myself.”

“Well, by definition I don’t see you as yourself, since you have to take a different form to interact with me.”

“Yes. Ironic, isn’t it? I can most be me with a creature who literally can’t even see me. Worthy of being included in a stand-up comedy routine.” He took another deep sip, and then set the glass down with emphasis. “I was dead, Picard.”

Picard raised both eyebrows, head going back. “Dead? How?”

“Did you ever wonder… how could a supernova of one star, however large, start triggering an instability in space that blows up other stars?”

“Neither Federation nor Romulan science was ever able to explain that,” Picard admitted. He remembered something, then. When the Q killed each other with the weapons they’d used in the civil war… it had caused supernovas. “Good God. Did the war break out again?”

“In a sense.” Q looked down at his hands, folded in his lap in uncharacteristic stillness. “There was a bomb.”

“I assume you mean some sort of metaphorical something that best translates to my perceptions as a bomb?”

“Oh, no. An actual bomb. Made of Continuum-substance, of course, you wouldn’t have perceived it except through analogy, but… something that explosively releases raw energy of a form that disrupts the pattern of anything made of Continuum energy and tears it to shreds? Sounds to me like a bomb.”

“By any other name,” Picard said quietly. “But – you were dead? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I was dead. Someone set off a bomb in the Convocation and… a dozen Q died. Which is actually a very large number. I realize it sounds like a trivial number to you—”

“No. You’ve told me that the Q number in the thousands, if that, and even if there were trillions of you, a dozen deaths are never trivial.”

“Thank you for that.” Q took a deep breath. “I was one of the casualties. The others… didn’t have a son. No Q was willing to spend the time and energy needed to put a dead Q back together, no Q had a pattern to follow they could use for reference to do so anyway… except my son. He used himself as the pattern and he spent the past… I don’t actually know how many years putting me back together and I don’t even know if I’m the same me anymore—”

“Stop.” Picard put his hands on one of Q’s. “You’re alive. That’s what’s important.”

“I don’t know if I am,” Q whispered. “I mean, yes, I’m alive, but am I me? I spent billions of years trying to preserve my identity, so many other Q trying to influence me, and now…”

“Listen to me, Q. Life changes us all. Being what you are, I imagine you don’t have much experience with the concept of scars, but even you changed over time, just from the demands of life.”

“This is a rather large change, Picard.”

“Yes. It is. But what’s the alternative? You can’t go back to what you were before, can you?”

“I suppose not.” He stood up and went to the window, looking out. “You know I would have come if I could, Jean-Luc, right?”

“I know.”

“And there’s nothing – I can’t fix it. I can’t fix any of it.” He looked back at Picard. “Do you know – of course you don’t. I changed things. We were – having an argument. You and I. Not important what it was about. But the point is… I altered the past.”

“Wait. What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He walked back toward Picard. “It’s all gone. All the changes I made. Retroactively. Because we can’t do anything in the region of space affected by the bomb.”

Picard stood up. “Tell me what you did that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Q sighed. “We were arguing about whether I actually care about you mortals. You were very upset. You pointed out that Data died and I did nothing, and he saved my life one of the few times I was vulnerable. You said that I live on the scale of a god and I can’t relate to mortals enough to be friends with one. So, I fixed it.”

“You fixed what?”

“I arranged for Shinzon to be adopted by a human scientist and taken off Remus in his childhood. Never grew up with the hatred and resentment of humanity. Resented you, but he ended up going into Starfleet anyway. No attempt to destroy Earth. So Data didn’t die, you didn’t suffer clone angst, Charlie – that was what his name got changed to – had a happier life and didn’t run around telepathically raping half-human women. Everything was wonderful.” He leaned his forehead on the wall. “And then there was the bomb. And every change made by any Q, ever, in that region of space, was reverted to whatever it had been before it was changed. And I was dead.” He swallowed. “And now – I’m back, but I can’t bring him back. I mean, I could, he died in Earth orbit, but how am I supposed to bring him back in a world where you idiots would declare him illegal and there’d be assassins trying to kill him?”

“Q. It’s all right.” Picard walked around a chair,  and reached up to his shoulder. “No one expects it of you. Data wouldn’t have expected it of you.”

“You did, once.”

“Apparently that was in an alternate universe. I don’t think you can hold that against me.”

“But you were right.” Q closed his eyes. “I wanted him to live.”

“So did I.”

Q sat down on a sofa that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Picard sat next to him. “Listen,” he said. “I’ve… wanted to tell you, for some time. I never realized, back in the days when you came to visit me frequently… that I’d miss you, as much as I did, if you didn’t come back.” He held Q’s hand clasped in both of his. “I… did consider the possibility that the Romulan supernova represented your civil war resuming, and that I hadn’t seen you because… you’d become a casualty. To be honest, when there were no further supernovae, of course I was relieved because unexpected supernovae are horrible, but it also occurred to me that, if there’d been a conflict among your people, you’d resolved it. And if it was resolved so quickly…” He swallowed. “I thought that meant you were alive.”

Q raised an eyebrow. “What part of me suggests to you that I’m good at resolving conflicts quickly, Picard?”

“The fact that you did. The first time.”

“Obviously not well enough, or no one would have planted a bomb.” He took a deep breath. “So. You missed me?”

“I did. Although I wasn’t going to tell you, if you came back and it turned out your reasons for not coming to see me in so long were trivial.” Picard smiled.

Q laughed. “I suppose you don’t consider death all that trivial?”

“Not at all.” He let go of Q’s hand. “I’m glad you’re alive now.”

“I… suppose I am as well.”

“You suppose?”

“So many died, Jean-Luc. So many. And I’m alive.”

“That’s survivor’s guilt. It’s normal.” He smiled wryly. “There are times when I’m still miserable with guilt that I’m alive and Data isn’t. Or Jack Crusher.”

“Was he as boring as his wife?”

Picard raised a finger and shook his head. “None of that. We’re past the stage where you insult my friends, now. I expect you to keep a somewhat civil tongue in your head.”

Q rolled his eyes. “Oh, how will I ever live up to this overbearing expectations?” He looked at Picard. “It’s like you think I’m a good person.”

“Now that I know something of the culture of the Q Continuum? I do think you’re a good person. About half your flaws are species-or-culture specific, and the other half don’t outweigh the ways in which you try to do what you see as the right thing even when you have to fight your culture to do so.”

Q smiled slightly. “I think you’ve finally gone senile, Picard.” Picard stiffened slightly. “Wait. Did… you get a diagnosis?”

“Assuming that the thing you showed me was a real possible future at the time… I’ve managed to put it off for some years, based on the warning you gave me, but it’s not curable. Yes. I have Irumodic Syndrome. Thank you for the extra years, by the way. I wouldn’t have known to take the treatments that can slow it down or put it off, if not for you.”

“And you’re just going to let this happen?” Q stood up and started to pace, angrily gesticulating with his hands. “You’re all right with just losing your mind? Your intellect, your memories? You’re going to let all that disappear in a haze of confusion and end up in a nursing home drooling applesauce onto your bib?”

Picard turned his hands out and up in his lap, a shrug without shoulders. “I don’t see where I have an alternative. I suppose I could die in the course of this quest, and then I’d avoid it…”

“No.” Q spun on his heel and faced Picard. “There’s another way. Come with me.”

“Come… with you?”

“To the Continuum,” Q clarified.

Picard stood. “Q. You know I have no desire to become something other than human.”

“It isn’t about what you desire.” Q started pacing again. “I know what you want, Picard. If I was making this offer because I care about you and I don’t want to see everything that made you you slowly evaporate before you finally shuffle off this mortal coil and I never see you again, I know you’d say no. ‘I have no desire to be anything other than human, Q’, like being human is the ultimate achievement.”

“It may not be the ultimate achievement, but it is what I am. And if you’re not making this offer because you don’t want me to die—”

“I don’t want any more Q to die,” Q said, walking toward Picard, his eyes completely focused on Picard’s. “You’re a diplomat. You’ve stopped countless wars, talked species who were torn apart by civil war into negotiating with each other. And my war isn’t over, not if someone is planting bombs. And the next one could be my son. Or Amanda. Or my ex. Irritating as she is, I don’t want her to die. I don’t want any of them to die, even my enemies.” He knelt in front of Picard, looking up at him. “Please, Jean-Luc. I’m not asking because I want to make you a god and gloat about how you misuse power – in the Continuum we’re not omnipotent, anyway. I’m not asking because I don’t want you to die – I don’t, but I know you won’t accept a reason like that, and I accepted your eventual death as the consequence of caring about a mortal back when I first figured out that you were more to me than a project. I’m asking because the Q don’t have anyone like you, someone who can compromise but who has the kind of iron will and courage of convictions needed to demand that everyone around you compromise too.”

“My ability to compromise didn’t help the people of the Cardassian Demilitarized Zone, in the end,” Picard said softly. “It didn’t save the Romulans.”

“Yes, yes, are you sure you don’t already think you’re a god? You certainly take the blame like you think you’re omnipotent.” Q stood up. “I know you’ve failed at things. But you’re better at this than me. You’re better at this than any Q in the Continuum. And they won’t listen to you if you’re a mere mortal.”

“But they’ll listen to me if I’m a brand new Q?”

“Yes. Because you’ll make them listen. And because my faction will support you.” He paced again. “You’re worried about misusing your power? We can keep you from coming back to this plane of existence until everyone you cared about is dead, so you’re not tempted to intervene. You’re worried about not being human? Well, when you’re dead you’re not a human being because you’re not being anything at all. If you can contemplate ceasing to exist, how can you refuse to contemplate ceasing to exist as you are, transforming rather than dying?”

Picard took a deep breath. “If you’d come to me a few weeks ago, I might have said yes, but… I have obligations, now. I have to find Data’s other daughter, and protect her.”

Q took a deep breath. “I know where she is, but she’s beyond my reach.”

“So she’s in the Beta Quadrant, somewhere near the area of space affected by the Romulan supernova.”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t save her or help her because she’s in a place where Q power doesn’t work.”

“Yes.”

“I already know where she is, Q. She’s on the Artifact. Bruce Maddox told me, a short while ago.”

Q nodded. “Of course you do. But are you aware that when you came in and found me, you thought you were actually back home with your Romulan bodyguards?”

Cold washed over Picard. Q was right. When he’d sensed that someone was in his holographic study, the one that had been programmed to look exactly like home… he’d thought he was home. He’d thought that Laris and Zhaban were around somewhere and that the phasers they’d hidden about the room were also here. “I… yes. You’re right. I can’t deny it.” Picard took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t change anything. As long as I have enough of my mind here in the present that I can keep fighting, I need to find Soji and protect her. She’s all I have left of Data, and… I couldn’t save her sister. I owe it to Data, I owe it to Dahj to find Soji before the Zhat Vash do.”

“And that’s more important than preventing a war. A war that will cause supernovae and kill trillions of mortals as collateral damage, if it breaks out again.”

“I don’t have long to live, Q. Do I? By Q standards?”

“You could live another sixty years and it would be an eyeblink by Q standards, but… no. No, I think you have less time than that, and you know why.”

Picard nodded. “And you told me that you could, in theory, still resurrect Data, but you don’t want to bring him into a world that has banned his species. Which implies that if I died, you could, in theory, resurrect me.”

“Not if you’re in the dead zone when you die.”

“Yes, true. But if a transporter can create copies of people or hold a pattern in a buffer for 80 years, I’m fairly sure you can copy a pattern and hold it in a buffer as insurance against my death in a place you cannot reach.”

“Are you giving me permission to do that?”

“I’m saying yes. To your request. But not now. I’m still alive now, and I have obligations here. I’m not ready to give up my human existence and leave behind everyone I’ve ever known or cared for… yet. But you’re quite right. The nature of mortality says that sooner or later… I will, whether I want to or not.”

“You’re saying yes?” Q looked stunned.

Picard smiled. “I realize that my saying yes to you is an unusual occurrence, but it’s hardly unheard of.”

“I just…” Q shook his head. “I should have known. I picked you for the ability to think outside the constraints of the human condition. I’ve known all along that I could take you at the moment of your death, assuming you’re not inside the dead zone, but I didn’t realize you knew, and I didn’t think you’d give me permission.”

“There’s nothing about death, per se, that’s particularly marvelous,” Picard said dryly. “As a species, mortality gives us a reason to strive, while we live. As an individual… I can’t live forever as a human, and I shouldn’t, and I don’t want to. But from the perspective of everyone I care for, there’s no difference whether I die and cease to exist, or whether I become a new form of life but break my ties with my former existence. And…” He swallowed. “If there is any chance, any chance at all, that I can prevent what happened to Romulus from happening to other worlds… yes. Yes, very few sacrifices are too great for that. I’m willing to give up my death, and my humanity upon my death, to try to prevent war in the Q Continuum.”

“But you’re not willing to give up what remains of your life.”

“No. Soji is beyond your reach, you’ve said so. I presume the Zhat Vash are mostly beyond your reach as well. And I don’t want you stepping in to solve my problems, anyway.”

“Don’t friends help each other?”

“Yes. But friends also don’t demand godlike exercises of power from friends. You thought I’d be upset with you because you tried to save Data, and you failed, because of the bomb. Data wouldn’t have expected that of you and neither would I… alternate timelines regardless. Perhaps my grief was more raw when I said what I said in that other timeline, or perhaps you made me so angry I lashed out. Here and now, though… I want you to understand. You are not my friend because of what you can do for me, with your powers. I’ve never wanted you to do anything for me with your powers; the only time I ever called on you it was because billions of lives were at stake, and that was worth more than my pride as a human.”

“But Soji isn’t?”

Picard closed his eyes. “If you had the power to snap your fingers and ensure her safety, I might say yes, but you’ve told me you don’t. And I don’t want the Zhat Vash deciding to target the Q, not in your people’s weakened state… yes, I know, I know, you’re still omnipotent, we mere mortals can’t possibly hope to harm you, et cetera… but I know the Borg were attempting to work on a means of capturing and assimilating one of you, and that was before you had a war and invented weapons that work on your kind. I can’t rule out that the Zhat Vash could find a way to harm you if you turned your power on them as a blunt force instrument but didn’t have the power to find and stop them all.”

“I think that’s a silly thing to be afraid of, but I’m touched by your concern.” He said it as if it was sarcastic, but the expression on his face was tender. “But very well. I’ll stay out of your quest. I’ll let you live out however long you have, in your human life. I won’t do anything either to hasten or to prevent your death. And when you die, I’ll repair your mind if I have to, if Irumodic Syndrome has taken too much of it away, and I’ll make you a Q, and you’ll come to the Continuum with me to save my people, and your galaxy.”

“To try my best, at the very least,” Picard said.

Q smiled like a man who didn’t want to smile but couldn’t help himself. “You have no idea how delighted I am to hear that.” He spread his arms. “Hug?”

Picard chuckled. “I don’t do hugs, Q, I’m far too emotionally repressed for that. You know better.”

“I do, yes.” Q laughed… and then leaned in and kissed Picard on the cheek before Picard could stop him or back away. “Is that better? I understand you Frenchmen kiss each other like that all the time.”

“Two hundred years ago. Cultures change. We also don’t use expressions like ‘mon petit chou’ anymore.”

“I can’t call you my little cabbage?”

“Not without sounding hopelessly out of date and archaic.”

“You didn’t seem to mind the kiss, though.”

“I’m too old to let myself get riled up by your pranks,” Picard said, smiling broadly.

“What if it wasn’t a prank?”

“Then I’m too old to let myself get riled up by that, either.” He gripped Q’s arms by the elbows. “But don’t wait to come visit until I’m dead and it’s time for our bargain to come due. I’m going to worry about you if I don’t see you.”

Q shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Picard released him. “And if you want to propose to me, you have to wait until we’re on the same form of existence. The stress of trying to arrange a wedding at my age really could kill me.”

Q choked on laughter for a moment. “Well, in English, ‘commitment’ is another term for being locked up in the funny farm, and that about sums up how I feel about marriage. But I’ll be absolutely sure to take you out on a few dates while you’re still human. Wine and dine you while it matters.”

“I look forward to it.” Picard glanced at the holographic replica of a clock. It wasn’t moving. Of course not. “Well, whether you have stopped time or not, apparently I am still growing tired, and the hour was late when you came to visit. I need to return to bed.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your beauty sleep, mon amiral.”

“I think I liked ‘mon capitaine’ better.”

“I did too. You never should have let them promote you.”

Picard shrugged. “Time moves forward. We can’t desperately cling to the past, even if it made us happier. Life gives us no choice but to keep growing and changing. Even you, I think.”

“Yes.” Q nodded in agreement. “Even me.”

“Take care of yourself, Q.”

“I’d tell you to do the same, Jean-Luc, but I know you won’t. Not while there are still swashes to buckle and fair maidens to save.”

“Well. I’ll charge into danger without much regard for the odds against me, but I promise to take care of my health, at least.”

“That’s the best I’ll get out of you, I suppose.” Q grinned, and manufactured a hat, obviously so he could tip it. “Until next time, then.”

And he was gone.

[honestsycrets]

Wretched Little Angels: Aethelwulf’s Choice

❛ pairing | ragnarssons x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | ivar takes over the reins, and everyone else is just along for the ride. 

❛  warnings | dark!fic, graphic non-con and violence, ivar being a dick, ivar planning, hostage situation, heavy angst. do not read if any of those will trigger you

They already knew what the possibility was.

“It’s possible that she may not even be alive,” Alfred spoke from the table.

It was a cold night, and his scarf was fixed around his neck, staring between his brother and his father. Aethelwulf paced from one side of the room to the other before coming to the table where they sat with full plates that neither had eaten.

“What if she is?” Aethelred returns. “She is a woman. They could be hurting her.”

By hurting her, all the men in the room knew what he meant.

“It is likely,” Alfred answers.

The question seems to really be what price they were willing to pay. For Aethelwulf, this was one in a line of disrespectful actions. It was the top of his list, no doubt, but it was not something he could so easily let go. Aethelwulf sets his hands on the chair, squaring his shoulders back.

“I’ll call him.”

“At what cost?”

The cost, he knows better than his sons. Aethelwulf runs his hands through his short black hair. His fist beats down on the table, effectively silencing his youngest son with his shrill that caused Alfred to scoot back in his seat.

“I want my daughter back.”

You should have stabbed Ubbe with that knife.

But you didn’t.

Hvitserk left you feeling burning raw and now, Ivar-- Ivar was something else entirely. His arm is thrown over your shoulder, dragging his nails over your empty stomach up toward your breasts. Your chest heaves under his fingertips. Your father is heavy on your mind. He is the sort of man to think he knows best and go through with it. Unless it was the words of grandfather, that was. He could always… do best.

Now that Aethelwulf was the one to deal with, well, there was no telling what he would do. You were sure of one thing. It would be reckless. When you glance over to Ivar, you know that this boy-- is more than he can handle.

“What are you going to do to them?”

“To your father?” he slides a lock of your hair from your ear. “That depends on him.”

“Please don’t kill them.”

This man, the Boneless, runs a chill down your back. You don’t know why. You only know that when he looks at you, he sees something little more then the daughter of a police chief. Ivar seizes your nape with his large hand.

“Oh? Well, I don’t really want you, so I don’t even need you,” Ivar whispers corroded words. A jangle of his belt reflects that he is loosening his pants. You don’t have to guess by now what he is about to do. “So let’s get down to business.”

It was fine. You’ve been put through worse. Ubbe was worse. Ivar less so. The grip on your neck tightens into bruised the size of the pads of his fingers. When you take him into his mouth, Ivar settles into petting your hair— almost like a good dog.

“Where is she?”

A warm voice asks, bursting with hot energy and frayed at the edges with his concern. You seize up under his hand, tightening your fist around his floppy cock. Ivar bucks his hips, and his cock responds in turn, swelling under your fingers.

“Nothing to worry about,” Ivar insists in a mouthy groan. “I am taking good care of her.”

You, as well as your father, know how much of a lie that is.

“If you lay a hand on my“--

“My brothers have done more than that,” Ivar answers, reaching down to stroke your hair. So close, but so far away, Ivar almost muses. “But if you want her back, you know what to do.”

With a click, Ivar drops the phone, cock throbbing and pulsing in your hand. A threat of moisture spurts from his tip and you take it with heavy-lidded eyes pressed together tightly that you refuse to let yourself cry. Whatever it was, you think, it wasn’t going to end well.

“You are going to hurt him, aren’t you?” Your voice teams with tension and fear.

“Well, he makes a shitty puppet.” Ivar laughs, tugging you up by a fistful of your hair. The burn of the cool air causes you to release his cock, which bobs excitedly when you whimper face to face with him. “But maybe you can level with me. Sit on my dick.”

You’re tired of it. The constant wear and tear of Ragnar’s sons tearing into your body. You let your knees fall apart under his prodding hand. Ivar’s lip twitches, somewhere between appreciation and annoyance that you could not follow a simple order.

“It’s not that hard to listen,” Ivar reprimands. He brings your hips down to him, slipping his hand underneath to guide his way into the hole that his brothers had all had. Pleasure thrums through him when he actually does slip in, and he shifts his hands around to grasp your shoulders to force you down onto him.

“You’re all used up,” Ivar says. “You don’t even have it in you to fight me.”

A succession of quick and shallow lines are pricked by one slow, deep one that Ivar made sure to know you felt. You know he tells the truth. Being used by the Ragnarssons almost becomes routine. If you ran, like with Ubbe, they would only make it worse.

“I suppose I’ll have to settle with this to send to your soft brother,” Ivar grasps a fist full of your hair again, dragging you against his chest. Ivar’s teeth catch your neck, rocked by a stuttering thrust of his hips. It’s no more than a hike in his breathing that marks that Ivar is cumming, deep when he drags you down against his hips.

His warm breath against your neck marks the release of his hot breath from your neck. He throws you off of his dick onto the leather seat of the truck. You catch the siding of the truck to stop you from knocking your head. But maybe it would be preferable if you didn’t have to be with these fuckers and knocked yourself out.

“You should sleep.” It’s almost with care that he says it. Though, from the events before, you question how a man like him could ever care about anything. “It might be a better option than being awake.”

The car door slams behind him. You jolt up minutes later when the coast is clear darting to the car door. The handle is locked when you try to open it. But of course, it could not be that easy. Sitting there, you find a certain green-eyed boy. “You’re like one’a them pastries,” Hvitserk says. “Always fuckin’ cream-filled.”

It would have been less painful to be with Ivar.

Your eyes relax from their wide, clear surprise at his presence. With another chance gone, you settle back down, pulling the small throw over your cold body and settling into a flat pillow that had seen better days. “Why are you here?”

Hvitserk holds up his gun, twisting it at you. “Sure as hell ain’t here for the pussy.”

You sit up, eyes rimmed by exhaustion, tugging your feet to your chest. It’s hard to sleep when someone like Hvitserk is there, teasing you outright for something that he knew you had no way of getting out of. Before long, the tears are spilling down your cheeks and you hate that-- that moment of desperation and overflowing emotion that leaves you a physical damsel in distress. Hvitserk stops, slipping the gun back on his belt and turning over the front of the truck to you.

“Why are you--”

“Why do you think?!” you lurch over, punching the head of his chair. You wish that you had hit him, but as quick as the mouseish thing was, Hvitserk moved to the side. “I hate you! I hate you and your stupid brothers!”

Hvitserk leans over the middle of the truck seats, letting a punch land on his jaw. He massages the area after the fact, not at all unfamiliar with the feeling of you spitting on him. It’s probably something he did deserve if he were to be honest, and he doesn’t hold it against you. If he were a woman…

“I’m not that bad,” Hvitserk says-- sounding if he’s trying to convince himself of that bit of knowledge. Your eyes well up with tears all over again when you come back to that pillow, squeezing it for emphasis.

“You’re the worst one!”

“Worst? Fuck man,” Hvitserk begins. “I’ve been nice! I didn’ do any of the shit my brother did, remember?”

“You were the first one. Time after time!” you state. An accusation, a sobbing accusation of that first time he caught you, mocked you with helping your father. Yeah, he remembers that. Hvitserk doesn’t know why he feels a flash of pity-- but when he feels it, he feels soft. He crawls over the seat.

“Hey,”

You scoot to the most impossible edge of that seat.

“Okay, except the wax.” He recounts wanting breakfast. That was a damn good breakfast after all that he did. You bring your blanket high to avoid looking at him. He debates reaching out, to peel the blanket down like he stubbornly would.

Except, this time, something holds him back.

“Thank you for your service!” says the barista. She hands him a steaming hot coffee which he takes, thwapping a packet of sugar against the cup. His phone begins to trill, and Bjorn shifts to his leather black belt.

Chief Aethelwulf, his work phone says.

“Hey chief,” Bjorn grins, pushing open the door for an older woman. She bobs in as he continues down the way to his car. Aethelwulf’s voice booms, shrilling about some fucker, ie. Ivar, with his daughter. “You found her? With the Ragnarssons?”

“A video? Never would’ve thought…”

He sets his cup down on the roof of his car and pops open the door. Ivar, what would he ever do with his baby brother, who regularly got himself into this sort of trouble. He would probably have a much easier time in negotiations. But no, of course not, things could not go so easily.

“Of course I’ll go with you.”

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