#that moment when you type something so many times it looses meaning

[dearaceofhearts]

you walk out after an argument

characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is

♡ husk

when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.

in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.

but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.

his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.

husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.

when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."

husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.

"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.

you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."

♡ alastor

"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.

when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"

he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.

alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.

so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?

he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.

...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.

one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.

"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.

upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.

"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.

"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.

♡ angel dust

his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.

despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.

while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.

he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.

one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.

but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?

after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.

he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.

he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"

the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.

it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.

♡ vox

he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.

(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).

(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).

his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.

he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.

and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.

all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.

"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.

his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.

meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."

vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"

"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.

it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.

"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.

"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.

suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.

♡ lucifer

he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.

all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—

he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.

most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.

thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.

"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."

you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."

his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.

after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.

© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!

[sorchathered]

He’s in love with the girl

Pairing-Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- smut and language

A/N- I’m baaaack yall! Here’s a little smutty one shot to tie you over until I post for kinktober! @bobgasm and I have been reading too many cowboy romances lately so here’s a little brother’s best friend romance for ya.

Summary- Jake comes home for the summer and falls head over heels for his bestie’s little sister. How’s he gonna tell him that he thinks she’s the one?

———————————————————————————

He shouldn’t be here.

He knows he absolutely shouldn’t , and yet here he is, body pressed up against your bedroom door with his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck.

Any other girl on earth would have been suitable, but no, Jake Seresin just had to fall in love with his best friend’s baby sister.

He’d come home on leave for a month and had expected it to be just like any other trip to Austin. Bar hopping and wrangling cattle, until you walked into his mama’s house. Freshly graduated from college and looking every bit his type. Gorgeous, smart, funny, and a little bit mean to him; it was like kryptonite to him.

He could lie and say he tried to stay away, but you both know that wasn’t true at all. He was down bad, sneaking quiet moments with you in the barn, stopping by to see you after your shifts at the hospital, midnight drives to nowhere that ended with you both tangled up in the back seat of his truck. Your poor brother didn’t have a damn clue, his own life and family kept him just busy enough to keep him out of the loop, and you’d keep it from him as long as you could. Last thing you wanted was for him to pop the perfect bubble the two of you were in.

It wasn’t like he’d held a torch for you or anything like that, anything untoward he was sure Gavin could dream up just wasn’t true. When he’d been reintroduced to you at the beginning of the summer it was like you were a completely different person, not at all the annoying pre teen girl with her one direction obsession that had followed them around years before. You were a bad ass nurse now, someone who took no shit and he’d been falling over himself to get your attention ever since. You’d brushed him off and tried to stay away, but you couldn’t deny that there was absolutely something there, and when he kissed you for the first time it had scared you just how much you wanted more.

“You’re a goddamn dream you know that?” Jake sighed as you ran your nose along his sharp jawline, hands fumbling with his belt as he let his hands roam over the small of your back down to your ass as he kneaded one and then the other cheek before lifting you into his arms. You let out a shriek and erupted into giggles as he carried you to your bed and spread you out on the worn cross and crown patterned quilt.

“You’re gonna get us both in trouble if you keep manhandling me like this you big oaf, the whole house is gonna think-“

“I don’t give a shit what they think, you could scream my name loud enough that they hear it in town, don’t make a difference to me, sugar. I’m tired of sneaking around; want you to be mine.” He had both hands on your hips, staring down at you like you hung the moon and stars. It stole your breath away, you’d thought he’d just been fooling around with you all summer, just another notch in the Hangman’s belt. But the way he was looking at you, it made things feel very, very real.

“Jake. What about Gavin?” You whispered, and he gave a little shake of his head, trying to rid himself of the spell your half naked body had him under. He needed to get this off his chest, if you wanted what he wanted then Gavin could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared; he’d get over it eventually.

He eased himself on top of you and swiped a loose hair behind your ear, watching as your body relaxed from his touch. Cocky grin plastered on his pretty face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, he took a deep breath and let the words loose that he’d kept buried deep all summer long.

“You know I love Gavin, I’d go to the ends of the earth for that idiot, but I’d be lying if I said his opinion matters one bit when it comes to this. I want you, y/n. I don’t just want you for the summer, I’ll do long distance, late night phone calls, whatever you’ll let me until I can make this permanent. I never thought I’d be the settling down type but damnit darlin’ I’ve got all sorts of dreams planned for me and you, and if you want that too it doesn’t matter what anyone wants or thinks about us, all that matters is how much I’m totally wrapped around your little finger.”

“But-“ he cut you off by placing his lips on yours, letting his hands slide up your sides to cup your face and stealing your breath.

He wasn’t having it- clearly your stubborn ass wasn’t hearing him, he’d just have to show you instead.

He had you naked and spread out before you could even come up with another coherent thought, golden head of hair buried between your legs as he brought you to the edge…and then stopped.

“Look at me pretty girl, I want your eyes on mine when you come, all those sweet noises you make are for me, no one else you got it?” He was being a giant tease, fingers still buried deep as you tried to fight the urge to smack that stupid grin off his face.

“Fuck- you can’t just stop, I- I need-“

“I know what you need baby, and I’ll give it to you every time. But you’re gonna commit this to memory, no one’s ever gonna get to see you like this ‘cept me ever again, you’re mine, and you know I’m used to getting what I want.” He says with a wink, sliding back down to suck your clit into his hot mouth, watching as you arch your whole body into him with a whine.

“Yours Jake, just yours.”

He felt the sun through the blinds and groaned, it was too damn early and warm all wrapped up in you, but he couldn’t put off his plans forever, there was too much at stake and he’d chicken out if he waited much longer. Pressing kisses to your face and neck he untangled himself from you and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He had to come clean to Gavin, and if it didn’t end up with a black eye he’d call that a win.

He pulled up to the diner on Main that had been home to many a hangover meal and found Gavin lounging in their favorite booth along the back wall, his gruff exterior a complete facade as soon as Jake came in the door. Goofy wide smile splitting his face as he made his way over to the table, but Jake couldn’t bring the smile to his eyes. He’d been ready for battle on the drive here, but now that he was inside he felt his resolve crumble a little. He’d known him since they were in diapers, their moms had been debutantes together for god sake; what was he supposed to do if this ended sour?

Knocked loose from his thoughts as the waitress, Gladys, who was probably here when the town began, brought him a steaming cup of coffee and ruffled his hair. He could do this, he just needed to man up. He’d fought in firefights thousands of miles in the sky, surely this would be easier.

“You’ve been here all summer and I swear it feels like we’ve barely seen you brother, where the hell you been?” Gavin says as he digs into his breakfast, chomping away at his pancakes with no idea what bomb is about to be dropped on him.

Jake wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans as he stares intently on his steaming mug, drawing a shaky breath and preparing for the worst.

“I’ve uh- I’ve been seeing somebody. I know I should’ve been better about keeping in touch, just kinda got caught up in it. It’s why I asked you here bud, gotta talk to you about it before I explode if I’m honest.”

Gavin stops his Joey Chestnut impression long enough to look over Jake’s stoic exterior, and guffaws. Throws his head back and quite literally cackles.

“Ha- oh shit man, I’ve been waiting on you to spill the beans on this shit. You should see your damn face “we need to talk Gav, I’m in love.” Hahaha goddamn, if I’d known all it would take is my sister coming back into town to get you to settle down I'd have tried to play matchmaker years ago.”

Jake nearly drops his mug, eyes bugging out of his head.

“You- you know?! Jesus Christ Gav, I’ve been losing my shit over this for days, way to bury the lead.”

“Oh come on, you two haven’t exactly been subtle. For someone who is supposedly a stealth pilot, you sure don’t know how to hide a relationship. Also, if you’re going to fool around with her at mom and pop’s, might want to remember the walls are paper thin. We found you guys out weeks ago dude.” He goes right back to destroying his plate, like the two of them had been talking about sports scores and not the fact that Jake was definitely fucking Gavin’s baby sister.

“You don’t need my permission, and you definitely have my approval if you were really that worried. She’s harbored a crush for years, doesn’t surprise me in the least that she shot her shot. Just do me a favor, don’t make her wait too long before you propose, she’d probably say yes with a ring made out of napkins from the way she looks at you.”

He didn’t make you wait long at all, and crazy as it all sounded to his squad back in Fightertown when he showed up at the end of block leave with a fiancée, they knew he was hooked from the minute you introduced yourself. You transferred hospitals and made the move to California, and made his empty bachelor pad a home with all your fancy appliances and skincare products he couldn’t pronounce to save his life.

When you both had gotten all the boxes unpacked he laid you down in your shared bed and made love to you like he hoped he’d get to do for the rest of his life, he couldn’t wait to start a life with you, and maybe a baby.. or 5, but that would be a whole other discussion for another day.

———————————————————————————

🏷️ tagging- @roosterforme @nouis-bum @sebsxphia @teacupsandtopgun @sunsetsimpsblog @sio-ina-bottle @kissmecaitie @mynameismckenziemae @senawashere @seitmai-too @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @86laura11

[warmcookiepuff]

RESTART ( badly timed reunions suck ass when you leave your best friend behind)

— gn!reader, jason, wingman roy, mentions of dick

tw: curse words (many), jason dealing with his mental health and hyper independence (i hc he never properly deals with it)

p.s: raw writing skills after a year of retirement (it sucks).

p.s 2.0: Yes i rewrote this

---- ⭐ ----

"You've got a type," Roy jokes, lightly shoving his friend as he swivles his cup of juice. His eyes turning to the newbie vigilante across the room, stressing over the cups knocked over on the table.

"Yeah? What's that?" Jason rolls his eyes, adjusting himself on the wall. His eyes never leave your back.

"Scary," Roy hums, taking a sip of his juice as he watches you stack the cups again annoyingly.

It's been a while, you know. Probably a decade. Last you checked, he upped and died after getting adopted from the Alley you both grew up in. His shirt used to be as dirty as yours. Your smarts still match his, even more actually. Both were practically inseparable before--

Well.

"I don't know why you guys don't just talk," Roy muses. "It's not like you don't know each other."

"We don't," Jason answers harshly, his eyes looking away from you to his friend. "I'm not the kid that played mechanic anymore. Besides, I've got blood on my hands."

Its quiet. The house is still buzzing with friends and family. Wayne's mansion was grand as always. Jason always looks out of place in a space like this. Especially in celebrations, he typically never shows up. Not even for his own birthday. Much less Dick's.

Where he currently is.

The real question is: "Why is he here?"

Dick knows Jason won't come to the party. Everyone does. In typical Jaybird fashion, he'd send a text a few days late wishing his family a 'happy birthday' (if they're lucky).

He's a self-sufficient guy. The hyper independent, gruff, bad boy vigilante with a few screws loose. He does fine on his own.

So Dick brings in his screws; you. Jason fell for it like a sheep.

"How did Dick even--" Jason starts, feeling frustrated over the situation. Roy cuts him off.

"I told him."

"Honest to God I could kill you right now, Roy."

"In my defense, it sounded good at the time."

"I almost chopped their head off? What the fuck do you mean it sounded good?!"

"They threw like 15 bombs at you. Something tells me they don't just die easy."

"Christ, you're insufferable," Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. Needing silence above all else at the moment for the migraine that was shooting up his psyche. "i need some fresh air. DON'T follow me. I'll shoot your ass."

Jason leaves before Roy could say a word.

The balcony doors push open. Cold air pricks his cheeks and he takes a deep, deep breath of the polluted Gotham air. He rests his elbows on the railings, overseeing the city raining with crime.

Home.

There's a beat of silence. Before he sighs heavily, holding his head in his hands.

"Why am I like this," He asks himself in a low, tired voice. One he uses when he's sure he's alone. "Fuck's wrong with me. Can't be normal for five fucking seconds."

"Honestly, it was like 46 minutes but who's counting?"

Jason arms himself with his gun as swift as possible, his eyebrows furrow angrily as he makes sense of the silhouette standing by the balcony door behind him.

"Better than beheading, I'd say," You roll your eyes, walking up to him unfazed.

"You-- I-- Give me like 5 seconds," He locks in, immediately stuffing his gun in his holster. Fuck, since when did he stutter.

"Time's up," You answer smoothly, leaning on the railing with your body turned to his own rigid stance. "Speak, big boy."

"How'd you know I was out here?"

"You're a big guy," You answer, shrugging. "Also, Roy."

"Fucking ginger," He sighs, massaging his temples. "Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Pretend we're talking. Like we're friends again."

"I'm not doing anything you don't want me doing," You put your hands up in surrender. "Talk when you want."

It felt like hours had passed by in the quiet that the cold had started to nick at your skin. Cars had passed, small amounts of people had left. For once, Jason didn't want to disappoint someone more than he already has -- he's stuck in his own head. He had to say something.

Anything.

Anything that isn't so fucking stupid.

"I... I missed... you," He says through gritted teeth, his eyes never meeting yours -- his heart pounding and nervous.

He should've died in the Pit.

The second of silence you left had him consider every escape option possible.

You snort loudly and burst out laughing. It catches him off guard. It was noisy, loud -- full of life. You grip the railing as you hold your stomach.

"I--," You heave, snickering through your words. "I-- I missed you too."

[luvjunie]

— less is more

pairing: e-42!miles morales x fem!reader

contains: some tears, a little misunderstanding but a fluffy ending

summary: miles makes quite a bit of cash from his jobs, and with his love language being gift giving he often likes to spend a lot of it on you. however, you didn’t grow up with much, and this makes it especially hard for you to accept such expensive things from him without feeling overwhelmed. wc: 1,224

a/n: based off this request! some people might find this reader easier to relate to so i definitely wanted to write it

Gifts were something that came with the territory of dating Miles Morales. Big bouquets, flashy accessories, shopping sprees at the mall, and probably every single stuffed animal he’d ever caught you eyeing whenever the two of you went out. If you so much as looked at it, it was on your fire escape the next morning. At this point, you had so many on your bed that you were starting to run out of room to sleep.

And you knew he meant well, and you tried your best to enjoy it the way you imagined you should but it was all so foreign to you. Your life was much different before you met him, and it was more along the lines of nervously checking your bank account to see if you had enough cash to buy a five dollar starbucks drink to ‘treat yourself’, or if you’d have to wait till next week’s paycheck for blended coffee with some whipped cream on top.

Most of your clothes were hand-me-downs from your older siblings, or duds you’d secured from the Salvation Army a few blocks down on the colored-tag sale days, and that was the way you liked it. Humble beginnings is where you came from and humble was the way you intended to keep it.

So now as you stared down at the small jewelry box in your hands, Tiffany & Co embellishing the top in silvered letters, trepidation began coursing through you at the size of the box alone. Anything that came in a tiny package such as the one you were holding was bound to cost more than anything you’d ever managed to buy yourself. You realized you must have been lost in thought as you sat gawking at the untouched gift, because your boyfriend’s voice sounded like it was underwater the first few times he called out to you.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You blinked, looking up at Miles from where you were seated on his bed to see him leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Go ‘head and open it, don’t leave me hanging.” Miles joked, brows bunched slightly in confusion.

“Oh— right,” you laughed half-heartedly. Swallowing hard, you gently pried the small box open with hesitant fingers to reveal the prettiest diamond necklace you think you’ve ever seen. Light glinting off the encrusted jewel, Miles waited with bated breath as he watched your hand tremble towards it, a choked inhale catching in your throat as you felt the weight of the pendant alone.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“How much was this?” Your throat felt tight; uncomfortably so, like the air in the room suddenly wasn’t the kind you were meant to breathe.

Miles glanced to the side for a moment, then stood up straighter. “I mean, I paid for it if that’s what you’re asking...”

“How much was this, Miles?” Voice trembling when you spoke, you asked again but louder, and this time he knew you actually wanted an answer.

Confused because he didn’t take you for the materialistic type, he racked his brain for the memory of the total the clerk had read out to him and scratched his forehead.

“Like… three hundred and some change…maybe? Probably four? I don’t remember. Why does this matter?” He let out a peeved sigh, eyes widening as he watched your shoulders start to shake.

“Ay, mi amor, ¿que pasa? (what’s wrong, my love?)” Miles asked gently as he rushed to sit next to you, taking the jewelry box from your loose hold. He looked down at it disappointedly, lips pursing at the necklace he’d spent so long picking out. He thought you would’ve loved it. “You don’t like it? I can get you somethin’ better—“

“No, Miles. I… It’s perfect.” Warm tears rolled past your waterline and you wiped them away in a rush, aggravated that you were even crying in front of him about something like this. How could you explain yourself without sounding ungrateful or confusing him even more?

Miles licked at his dry lips as he tried to think of what to say. He was usually so good at reading your body language, but this time he was completely lost. You could see it on his expression when you looked at him that he was having a hard time understanding what was going on, and it only made you cry harder.

“No entiendo… (I don’t understand…)” He set the box down next to him and took your hands into his, head lowered to try and meet your averted gaze. “I’m lost.. If it’s perfect, then what’s wrong?”

You inhaled a wavered breath, the feeling of his thumbs rubbing the backs of your hands serving as encouragement for you to go on.

“I just…” taking a breath, your shoulders shrugged weakly. “You spending money on me like this, I— It feels like I’m using you. You should be spending your hard earned money on things for yourself, or… saving it for better things, not spending it on me.”

“Money is nothing to me when it comes to you.” he denied immediately.

“I know, and that’s the problem.” Your lips trembled, but thankfully you were able to prevent more tears from coming.

“Y/n, I—“

“Just, please. Let me finish.” You pleaded quietly, looking up to see him slowly nod at you. “I love you, Miles, and that means I love everything you do for me as well. But I’m not used to things like this.” you looked in the direction of the overturned jewelry box. “It’s a lot.”

Silence filled the space around the two of you. You felt incredibly guilty for even bringing it up, it was never your intention to make him feel this way. There was an energy shift and you could sense him regressing back to the version of him that once didn’t know how to express his love for you.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured simply. He didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t even understand, but he offered it to you anyway.

“No no no, Miles,” You guided his doleful eyes back to you with a hand on his cheek, your tone sincere. “I love the way you love me, really, I do. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s not your fault— I’m just not that kind of girl and I don’t know if I ever will be. But the way I grew up and the things I’m used to have nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me, okay?”

He frowned slightly. “So… No more gifts, then?���

You shook your head. “Giving me nice things is how you show your love towards me, I know that, and it would be unfair for me to take that from you. I’d be crazy to not appreciate how you’re always thinking of me wherever you go.”

Chewing on your thoughts, you contemplated the best way to give your answer.

“Okay, so it’s like this,” you sat up a bit. “You could give me a rock, and I’d cherish it like it was the best thing in the entire world, simply because you gave it to me. What I’m trying to say is how expensive the gift is doesn’t matter, all that matters is that my wonderful—“ your head dipped to meet his avoidant eyes. “caring, and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me. I don’t care about the money, I only care that it came from you.”

Miles brightened a little at that, and started to put things together after your explanation. “So, I can still get you nice things, but… less is more?”

A melancholic smile touched your lips before you pecked his cheek. “Less is more.”

He picked the small jewelry box up from the bed. He understood you completely now, but was still a bit bummed. “Does that mean I have to return this?”

You immediately shook your head. “Of course not, baby. I love it, and I think it’s beautiful. Just keep what I said in mind for next time, okay?” He nodded and you turned your back towards him so he could put it on for you.

“Good, cause I kinda lost the receipt.” Miles smiled coyly at the slightly shaky laugh that sounded from you as he unclasped the necklace, draping it over your chest and fastening it.

You peered down at the gorgeous piece around your neck, gently gracing over it with your fingertips. Your heart warmed at the thought of him picking it out for you, how he spotted something this beautiful and needed you to have it. You had to admit, it was absolutely stunning and you didn’t think you’d be taking it off any time soon. Even if the price of it had almost sent you into shock, you were more than grateful to have a boyfriend like him.

“Thank you, Miles. I love it, really.” You faced him once again with your confession, the sincerity laced in your tone accentuating the adoration in your eyes. Your hand caressed the apple of his cheek, it raising when he smiled contently and leaned into your palm. “But I love you, more.”

[monster-fluffery]

Harpies as Romantic Partners(SFW)

I absolutely love harpies and they’re probably my second favorite monster out there..

So enjoy my thoughts! I apologize that it’s short!

GN! Harpy x GN! Reader

First of all, Harpies have some of the strongest instincts out there among monsters. This could mean a myriad of things. Let’s start with something simple. Harpies mate for life, choosing one person to love for the rest of their lives. They’re dedicated lovers and mates; who would do anything in the name of their beloved. They’ll show off and show you just how fast they can fly, how long their wings are, how good they are at hunting and bringing you food… whether you think it’s a little gross or not, it’s a cute gesture. They have nesting instincts, building you a home and bringing you little gifts to win your affection.

Your harpy partner’s love language has to be gift giving and acts of service. This is all part of the harpy mating ritual. To be more specific about gifts, anything shiny catches their eye. They’ll bring you all sorts of shiny rocks and lost jewelry for you to wear. Their neck feathers will puff up in pride when they see you enjoying the gift, fueling their pride. Making you happy is their top priority.

You’ll never go cold with a harpy around, because they’re insane cuddle bugs. During the nesting period, your partner will be sure your ‘nest’ is stocked up with warm blankets and pillows per your request. On top of that, they want nothing more than to be your harpy heater. Harpies are cuddle bugs, typically out of instinct. They’ll use their own bodies to be a shield for you as you sleep, in your most vulnerable moments. However, when your partner learned about how humans cuddled.. they fell in love with the concept. You’ll often find the, snuggling their beak against your hair or neck. Their arms will wrap around you as you both become a messy tangle of limbs.

Circling back to acts of service… grooming/upkeep is very important for your partner. Many times, they’ve took a hold of your hips and dragged you into their lap. Your back is against their chest and their arms encircle your waist, trailing their claws up and down in a gentle repetition. Then, they leaned their head down and begin to ‘preen’ your hair. Their beak will pick out any knots or tangles, any loose leaves or dirt. Even afterwards, they’ll release your waist to comb your hair with their talons. It’s very soothing, like a scalp massage. You surely won’t complain about your beloved wanting to pamper you, right?

If you’re not afraid of heights, your partner will have no problem taking you for a trip in the sky. They’ll scoop you up bridal style and take off into the endless sky, day or night. You’ll tuck your head into their neck, clinging to their feathers to make sure you won’t fall.. though it’s only for your peace of mind. Your partner would never drop you; they’re much more focused on the fact they’re holding you in your arms than the fact that you’re in the sky. You’ll zip through clouds or get full uninterrupted views of the starry night sky.. and it’ll be one of the most majestic sights you could ever fathom.

Harpies don’t have too much knowledge on how humans show affection. So, you will have to teach them a lot of the basic types of displays. When you taught them about kisses, you swore you saw their light up with amazement. They were fascinated by the idea of kissing and they’ll take every opportunity they can to absolutely cover every inch of your face with quick paced kisses. They never fail to make you topple over in a fit of laughter at their displays.

[eleonoraalbright]

An Ill-Timed Confession Part 2

Pairing: Peter Pan x fem!reader (kinda)

Summary: Peter Pan is loose in Storybrooke with revengeful schemes. Fortunately for you, the heroes and villains have a plan to stop him.

A/N: Thank you for the kind comments left on An Ill-Timed Confession Part 1! They really motivated me to write a second part.

Careful not to trip over any headstones, you paced the forest’s floor in a restless manner. A few yards away Mr. Gold stretched out a hand, attempting to undo the magical wards Regina had placed around her vault. Bell was behind him offering silent encouragement for his swift success.

Tinkerbell, Baelfire, and Captain Hook stood off to one side; their faces betraying various degrees of distrust and doubt. Mary Margret, David, and Emma were in a separate group, talking in hushed voices. They seemed to be having an argument.

That left you and Henry alone. You stole a glance towards the boy who was still trapped in Pan’s body. For the hundredth time that day, you cursed yourself and your big mouth. Speech is silver, but silence is golden.

Oh, how you wished you had remembered that saying when accidentally telling Pan that he was hot. Why did you have this knack for getting yourself into these almost laughable scenarios? At least, it would have been laughable if you weren’t the person in it. Right now, the set of circumstances was terrifying.

At any moment, Pan could command his shadow to rip your own shadow from you, or worse abduct you. And what would happen then? You would be at his mercy until the others managed to switch Henry and Pan to their rightful bodies. If they ever did.

You knew from Henry’s storybook and real-life experiences that good somehow always did triumph in the end, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any casualties. What if this was the one time you didn’t make it to see the light of day?

Henry noticed you staring at him and raised an eyebrow in question, which sent another ripple of unease down your spine. Gods above and below, he was attractive when he did that.

In truth he was attractive all the time, but that cute little eyebrow quirk made your heart do a flip. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t Pan, he was Henry who was your dearest and closest friend for many years and someone you didn’t feel for in that way.

And even if he was Peter Pan, he would want to inflict such torment on everyone here in the graveyard that they would beg for death’s sweet release to escape him.

Peter Pan should not be the type of person who turned your insides into mush, your legs to jelly, made your heart beat faster and faster until it would burst from your chest leaving a bloody and gaping wound behind, and grant the death you craved for so you would not have to face the consequences of admitting to Pan himself that he was blessed genetically!

“Can you stop looking at me like that?” Henry’s words broke you out of your wild and frenzied thoughts. He shifted his weight to his other foot, avoiding your gaze and went on, “Like you want to kiss or stab me. Or both. It’s pretty weird.”

Hoping against all hope that you weren’t blushing, you let out a big sigh and dragged a hand down your face. You had to get these turbulent feelings under control for Henry’s sake. Being stuck in his great-grandfather’s body with his friend ogling him must have been a nightmare.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just have a lot of thoughts running through my mind and–” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think we’ll win this time.”

He was startled at your blunt statement. “What? Of course we will. We have to. All we have to do is get me in my body and Pan in his body. Then we’ll imprison him and we’ll win.”

You snorted at your friend’s naiveté. You were sure that Mr. Gold had something more in mind than imprisonment for his father. The Pied Piper clearly couldn’t be stopped by simple incarceration; he had thousands of tricks up his sleeve to free himself.

Pan needed to die. As tasteless as killing was, what other option was there? You tried to cast away your misgivings about the possibility of overcoming Pan. You had to believe that victory and survival would be on your side, which was easier said than done.

“I’m afraid that Pan will put us all through the nine circles of hell. And I-I can’t go through that again.” Tears blurred your vision and your knees wobbled so bad that Henry had to help you stand up right as unbidden memories leaped into your mind about your hellish existence in a life lived long ago.

“It’ll be okay. My mom will save us. She’s the savior, it's kinda her thing.” Henry knew about your past. He read the story in his book, but that didn’t mean he would fully understand the terrors you had endured or why everything seemed so hopeless. You heard a sudden whoosh and saw the vault’s door creak open.

“Shall we?” Mr. Gold marched into the gloomy interior.

Emma, Mary Margret, David, Tinkerbell, Baelfire, Bell, and Captain Hook followed him. Emma ordered, “Wait here until we know the coast is clear.”

Normally you wouldn’t obey and would rush head first into danger, but a moment was needed to calm your addled mind. Besides, if Pan was in there, you weren’t too eager to see him. You took hold of your senses and forced air up your nose and out your mouth. This wasn’t the time to have a breakdown.

You needed to be composed for Henry's sake, even with his newly acquired height, he looked up to you for how to react to the ongoing madness in Storybrooke. Well, he used to, maybe that changed in the last twenty-four hours with you acting like a twitterpated school girl.

You heard Emma yell, “We’re clear down here!”

You and Henry raced downstairs to see the group clustered around Regina. The mayor was disoriented and brushing invisible flecks of dust off her pants. She was in the middle of saying, “–missed all the signs. I just wanted to believe he still needed me to be his mother.”

Without missing a beat, the boy next to you soothed her fear. “I still do.”

Regina gasped, “Henry?” She tilted her head in bewilderment and narrowed her eyes, not convinced he was her son.

He walked over and threw his arms around her. It was a touching scene to witness. Too bad you didn’t have a camera; it would be hilarious to have a picture of the former Evil Queen sharing an embrace with the Pied Piper.

Meanwhile, David asked a very pertinent question. “So what exactly did Pan come down here to get?” Mr. Gold raised his hand over an empty box before jerking it back, a frown fixed on his features. “What?”

A hint of exasperation leaked into the older man’s voice as he said, “Please tell me you didn’t keep it down here.”

Regina appeared to be almost contrite and she shrugged her shoulders. “Where else would I keep it?”

For a moment you thought Mr. Gold would strangle Regina with her own scarf or beat her with his cane. To what thing were they referring? You broke the heavy silence. “What is it? What did Pan take?”

Henry's grandfather answered, “He took the curse that brought everyone from the Enchanted Forest to Storybrooke.”

You sat down next to Henry with an arm thrown around his shoulders. He was nervous, fiddling in his seat. You couldn’t blame him; this was a high stakes situation.

When Mr. Gold used the black fairy’s wand to place him back in his proper body, Henry would have to find his family and give Regina the scroll so she could destroy it before the curse transformed Storybrooke into the New Neverland and made everyone in town Pan’s slaves.

Worried for his well-being, Emma asked her son, “You doing okay, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m just ready to be me again.”

“Not much longer now, Henry. Not much longer.” Mr. Gold flipped through his spell book. “Once we have the wand, all will be as it should.”

“And then you can help your mom save the day,” you added with a smile. It was your turn to provide reassurance whether or not you actually had confidence in this plan. No, no, that wasn’t right. You had to have hope that this would work out.

You would imitate Mary Margret and fully accept that a happy ending was in the future. “And when this blows over, we can have another party at Granny’s. Hopefully with more cake than last time because the sisters really plowed through them.”

Henry liked your suggestion. “That’d be nice. And maybe I don't have to have a bedtime either?”

Regina vetoed the idea. “Absolutely not, young man. You need your sleep, especially after all of this.”

The sound of footsteps stopped a discussion of the correct amount of sleep for a boy Henry’s age. David walked into the room with the rest of the gang behind him. “She’s back. The Blue Fairy. She gave us the wand.”

You exclaimed, “That’s great! Do we need anything else?”

“Only one more item.” Mr. Gold crossed to a cupboard and retrieved a black cuff and explained, when Snow inquired, that it would render anyone with magic utterly powerless.

Regina snapped at Hook, “I haven’t forgotten about all that, by the way.”

“May I see your wrist, Henry?” Ignoring her comment, he placed the cuff on his grandson. “I want to make sure that when my dear old dad awakes, that he’s weakened. This will block his powers. Now I enact the spell, you fall into a deep sleep and when you awake, you’re back in your own body.”

Regina told him, “And then you hang on to that scroll and you come find us as fast as you can.”

Henry contemplated their words then scoffed, “When I gave my heart to Pan, I thought I was being a hero… I'm sorry.”

You patted him on the back. David was about to speak, but you spoke first. “It was stupid thing to do, but it’s not like anyone here hasn’t done anything that stupid too.” You didn’t pay attention to the glares a few select people sent your way, and instead focused on Henry’s laugh.

Mr. Gold said it was time and you stood up as Henry laid back on the divan, apprehensive of what was to come soon. Everyone retreated a couple of steps back and watched the process. Mr. Gold tapped the wand on his forehead and, after a blinding flash of light, Pan’s body started violently convulsing.

“What’s happening?” Emma shared a concerned look with Baelfire.

“Henry’s spirit is leaving Pan’s body.”

You hoped Pan wasn’t anywhere near concrete. If Henry’s body dropped to the ground and hit his head, he was going to wake up with a bad ache. He stopped shaking and remained still.  “It worked!”

You were delighted the spell had been fortunate, however, some part of you was a tad sad. You wouldn’t be able to squish his cheeks again. You could try, but Pan would most likely chop your hands off for such an affront. No matter, there were more important things to do.

“Let’s go find our son.” Emma darted out of the shop with everyone except Mr. Gold and Pan accompanying her. “Where would he be?”

You proposed, “Let’s get Ruby or Granny! They’ll be able to track his smell!” Emma agreed with you and went to the diner to enlist Granny’s keen nose for the job. The elderly woman sniffed the air and it didn’t take long for her to pick up his scent. You ran down the street toward the clock tower and were overjoyed when you saw Henry—in his own body—run out of the library doors.

“It’s me! It’s me! It worked!” Both of his mothers enveloped him in a big hug. “Mom, Mom. I just saw you guys. You guys just saw me.”

 “But we didn’t see you.” Regina cupped his chin.

“And trust me that makes a real difference!” You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him tight, glad that Henry returned to his rightful body.

“Oh, he’s got it,” Emma said as her son gave her the scroll. She passed it to Regina. “It’s up to you now.”

The mayor hadn’t held the scroll for even five seconds when a bright flash of purple light illuminated from it and she passed out cold. “Regina! Regina!” You, Henry, Emma and Baelfire crouched next to her.

Dammit, with Regina unconscious, who could undo Pan’s curse? There couldn’t be that much time left. Emma continued to call Regina’s name and shake her. Gasping, Regina opened her eyes. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just… I saw what needed to be done.”

“Mom, are you gonna be okay?”

You had a gut feeling that she wasn’t. As you suspected, she side-stepped his concern. “The important thing is you will be.”

The scroll vanished from Regina’s grasp. “No, he won’t.”

Your stomach dropped when you heard the dreaded voice. Your head whipped backwards to see Pan walking towards the group. Everyone backed up several paces. You shouted, “Watch out! He has the–”

You were cut short as an eerie red glow alighted over your and everybody else's bodies. It was as if molasses had coated your entire person, slowing down your movements until it hardened. The enchantment froze every single one of your limbs; it was difficult even to breathe.

Beaming from ear-to-ear, Pan finished your sentence. “Curse.  How observant that I do. Look at you all. A captive audience.” He took his time inspecting each and everyone of you. His gaze lingered on you last. “I could play with you like a pack of dolls, couldn’t I? You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

He pointed an accusing finger in your direction. He came closer and whispered, “I have a special treat for you for that wonderful but woefully timed statement you confessed to me. It was delightful to know the peculiar effect I have on you.”

You were grateful that your features were frozen to hide the terror swirling and building up inside you. Had you the ability to move, the road would have been sprayed with your vomit. Relief overtook you when Mr. Gold hobbled up to his father and gripped his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin could save everyone right? He growled, “Stay away from them.”

Pan performed the same freezing spell on his son. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, you haven't learned your lesson, have you Rumple? You should’ve stayed where you were, cowering, but I suppose you wanted a front row seat when my little curse descends upon your woved ones. Glutton for punishment, aren’t you? Don’t worry. They’ll be more of that. For all of you.” Pan disappeared without a trace and you were released from his spell.

You collapsed to the ground in a heap. Your fingernails dug into the cracked pavement. Everything was numb. Around you the others were talking in frantic voices, trying to figure out a way to thwart Pan’s plan, to find a miracle to save the day.

Someone was crying out that the curse was here. In the distance, getting closer and closer, you saw the green smoke that signified the town’s demise. You failed. 

Nothing could be done about that. You would forget your memories, forget your family and friends, forget who you were and become Pan’s plaything.

The thick smoke obscured your surroundings and filled your lungs. Your brain was getting foggy; it was too exhausting to think. You should sleep. One final thought echoed through your mind—Peter Pan won.

[malakaie]

had some feelings to write out – for/about @tommyend, no pressure at all to respond

I started watching wrestling – specifically, AEW – in late October 2023. It’s been just over a year since I started watching, and I didn’t expect it to consume as much of my brain-space as it has. When I started watching, I didn’t really know who anyone was. I had heard a few names – Randy Orton, CM Punk, Jade Cargill, Roman Reigns – but had no real concept of the landscape I was entering or what it would mean to get invested.

Truthfully, it was a little overwhelming, and there was more I didn’t understand than I did. In those first few weeks, I received one very helpful piece of advice: don’t try to understand everything. Find a wrestler or two whose vibe you like and stick with them – the rest will click into place eventually, or it won’t, and either way is fine.

And so I did. I think it was around the lead-up to Full Gear 2023 that I started really paying attention. There was something about what House of Black was doing that was different from anything else I was seeing. I could understand just enough to recognise talented athletes when I saw them, but I wasn’t quite plugged in enough to the overall wrestling “ecosystem” that that was enough on its own to get my attention. Now that I understand more of what I’m looking at, it’s easier to understand what I’m meant to be impressed by – it’s easier now to have that moment of, holy shit, how did they do that?

But I didn’t understand yet. I’d been watching wrestling for about a month and was still finding my footing. What I saw, and latched onto, in House of Black was a group of four impressive performers that I could tell were in love with the art of what they were doing. Everything was done with intent – the way they entered the ring, the different but cohesive styles with which each member of the House wrestled, the gear they wore, the ever-evolving paint on Malakai’s face, the evolution and growth of Julia’s character.

It was both the moment that I finally, properly understood that professional wrestling was also theatre—and, I think, the moment that I was magnetised. It felt like a faction that was made for me: a band of storytellers who wanted to take my hand and show me what wrestling could be and was and is, and had the creativity and cohesiveness and physical talent to pull it off.

I could breathe a sigh of relief. I wasn’t lost anymore, desperately trying to catch up to understanding something that everyone around me already seemed to know. I had a guide of some sort, and one that resonated: I’ve been reading since I was 3, writing stories since I was 11, have always been a little “strange,” drawn to creative types and niche hobbies and other people that don’t have many friends. And here was someone who not only felt like me, sounded like me, but was wanted and loved and succeeding. A stranger to me, in the way that performers and public figures always are, but I felt like it was going to be okay. If Malakai could make it—though I didn’t and don’t know him personally, I had no way of knowing if he was ever afraid, or if he doubted himself—then maybe I could, too.

The more I watched and the more I learned, the more true that became. I’ve been depressed and anxious most of my adult life. I have scoliosis that is likely to get worse as I get older, and causes me pain multiple times a week, if not every day. Hearing someone whose work I admired be open about his mental health—especially when sports industries have typically not been kind to people, perhaps especially men, who are vulnerable in that way—and be honest when he’s in pain shook something loose in me that I hadn’t quite realised was stuck and frozen in shame. It’s okay that I’m afraid. It’s okay that I have days where my brain is trying to consume itself. It’s okay that I’m in pain. Did I get out of bed today? Have I been outside? Have I eaten? Have I done something to be kind to myself—or, failing that, kind to someone else? Have I done something creative today?

I started my “gender journey,” for lack of a better phrase, in 2018. There was a lot, a lot, of messing around with pronouns, labels. I didn’t know what I was, only that “just a girl” didn’t feel quite right anymore. And then I felt like I was lying, because, well—I was fine being a girl when I was ten, and thirteen, and sixteen, so why was it suddenly different at 25? Sometimes I still feel like I’m lying. The generation above me often still holds an image of trans people that requires them to have always been miserable, always been “pretending.” A few months ago my mother suggested it was fine if my idea of being feminine had expanded, but she didn’t really believe I was trans, because I’d never been unhappy as a girl child, and besides that I looked like a “clone” of the small handful of other transmasc and nonbinary people she’s met. I must be a pod person. (Newsflash, mom: This is just what queer people look like, a lot of the time. I cut and dyed my hair and got one singular tattoo. How terrible.)

She didn’t ask me how I feel when people call me she, or her—it makes me feel horribly small and unreal, by now—and in fairness to her, I didn’t quite defend myself either. I cringed and shrunk and asked for time to think about it, when what I wanted to say is yes, I know I haven’t had the history you expect to see from me, but this is who I am, and I’m not telling you that I was never a girl. I’m telling you that girl isn’t the place where I stop.

But I was scared, and I felt cornered, and I didn’t say any of that.

What I did have, though, was an artist and a performer and a storyteller who did things with his expression, his clothing, how he presented himself to the world that was like a lightbulb going on. The confidence of a man who told stories with the way that he looked, and who used feminine symbols to do it. He wasn’t any less masculine—but it was an embracing of both that cemented who he was, and I thought: holy shit. I can do that. Our identities are not the same, and I’m not too keen on speculating about the identities of public figures that I don’t know in any event—but it’s reassuring, motivating even, to be able to regularly see someone comfortably expressing his gender (because, yes, cis presentation is gender expression too) in a way that makes sense to him and incorporates the feminine and resonates through his art without doubt or reservation or compromise. This is who we are. Take it or leave it.

I don’t know what’s coming next for any of us. AEW looks like such a different place—in a good way—from when I started watching, and the world is looking pretty scary these days, but I’m still here. The art that got me interested in wrestling in the first place is still here, and I have my theories—unsubstantiated, so far—about where Malakai and House of Black are taking their story, but regardless of theories I’ve been so fortunate to watch them continue to grow and evolve over the past year. There’s a lot I don’t know, but I know the love for the story and the art is real.

I don’t know you personally, Malakai, and I don’t want to claim to, no matter how many scraps I’ve gathered together from interviews and how much of the backlog of matches I’ve done my best to watch so I can understand where you’ve come from and where you’re going next. But your work and your love for your craft has moved me, and I’m glad I stayed alive when it was hard so I could be around to see it when it mattered.

[5iyoomi]

warnings: pet play + pet name (puppy), light brat taming, soft dom komori, collars, toys (vibrator), edging, fingering, daddy kink, a sliver of praise wc: 836 A/N: I NEED MORE KOMORI SMUT guys please.... especially pet play I KNOW he'd be into ts. I'm starving out here and I fear only this man can satiate me

Komori doesn’t like collaring you. You’re his sweet little puppy, always so obedient and good for him, so he usually doesn’t see any reason to.

But you’ve been acting up lately, desperate for any of his attention since he’s been busy, and while it hurts him to see the tears welling up in your eyes when he clasps the red piece of leather around your neck, he can’t help that a part of him finds the sight arousing.

It’s loose enough that it won’t hurt you, but tight enough that he knows it’s a bother. He won’t let you touch him, either, much to your dismay.

There’s nothing but the sound of your broken cries as he presses the hitachi wand against your clothed cunt, having already brought you close to the edge just to rip your orgasm away from you one too many times. 

You’ve lost count by now, can’t think past the overwhelming need to cum that has your toes curling in your frilly socks. Your panties are soaked by now, nearly sheer white with how wet you are, but he won’t stop, his dark eyes raking over your otherwise bare body.

You know he’s not mad at you, just disappointed, and that’s somehow worse. He always makes your punishments seem so impersonal, big hands lingering in spots that he knows will drive you crazy and pulling away the moment you lean into his touch.

It leaves you pliant underneath him, lips parted in silent pleasure and hips chasing the feather-light feeling of the toy on your sensitive clit.

Not doing what he told you to do, touching yourself without his permission, flirting with his teammates like he wasn’t standing right there… Komori thinks he’s being nice, really.

He could be a lot meaner if he wanted to, bend you over his lap and make you remember who you belonged to, but he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you in any actual pain.

He’s just not the type, he’d rather be spoiling you with pretty gifts and spending his nights between your thighs after a long, grueling day.

He isn’t a jealous man, anyways, because he knows you never mean it. That clinging to other guys arms and giggling like something was seriously funny was just your way of trying to get under his skin, dig at that easy going demeanor of his until you got what you wanted. 

So he doesn’t feel too bad when he hooks his finger into the heart shaped metal and gently tugs on it, bringing you ever so slightly closer to him and watching your throat bob in pure anticipation.

You think he’s going to kiss you, at first, but he just keeps you there, wanting, guessing on what he might do next.

“‘T-toya,” you whine, nails digging into the soft sheets enveloping you. The stimulation starts to border on painful, too much, and yet you want more than he’s giving you at the same time. But you know no amount of crying will help. “Please let me cum, p-please-”

The brunet hums, pressing the wand more insistently against you with a sigh. He lets go of you to hold you down so you can’t squirm as much, keeping your legs spread open the furthest they can go for him. “I don’t think you deserve to yet, puppy.”

He watches your face fall at that, and you take your bottom lip between your teeth, brows scrunched up in blissed out frustration.

He can see your internal struggle of wanting to lay back and let him do what he wants with you and wanting to beg him for more, scratch at his forearms and ask for his cock in a way he can’t resist giving into.

You decide on the latter.

“I’ll be good, daddy, I promise.” You plead, jumping when his thumb hits the little blue button to turn it up to the highest speed.

“A-ahh! Need you-” you clasp a palm over your mouth, pussy clenching around nothing as your orgasm builds up again. It twists in your stomach, hot and heavy, that familiar band ready to snap at any moment.

He nearly relents when you call him that, his cock twitching uncomfortably in his jeans, but he’s nothing if not patient, pushing down the urge to fuck you into tomorrow in favor of getting you to squirt for him.

“Mmm, but you weren’t listening to daddy earlier, so take what I give you, baby.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, softly nipping at the skin to feel you shiver. “If you’re good, then you can, okay?”

“Yes.” You nod faster than you can process his words, trying to catch his lips with his mouth dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t indulge you.

Komori kisses your cheek instead, slipping three fingers inside of your greedy hole without warning.

They slide in embarrassingly easy, your back arching when he curls them up in search of your g-spot, his movements practiced, and he smiles. “Good girl.”

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being in a relationship with Kayden Break.

Imagine Kayden Break is definitely the type of lover who may not show how much he loves you by words but would definitely my actions. Although the two of you would fight so often, he would never let you sleep with unfinished business between the two of you. No matter how often he would walk out in the middle of the fight, he would still come back home to you, even though most of them would often cause other round of fight, most of them could and would result with the two of you on the bed both naked.

Imagine, Kayden was definitely not a boyfriend nor husband material other than his looks. His personal and overall characteristics was after all, arrogant, a man of pride, quite the narcissistic not as much as Kartien thought but still and he is crazy be it in a fight or other things, he's quite have some loose screw. With most of the time his patience barely hangs on a thread ready to snap at any moment.

Imagine it was not the healthiest nor was it a toxic relationship. The two of you were just... having your own ways of showing love and respect for each other in your own unique way. Even though Kayden was always away, you don't mind. In the first place, looking back, it seems like things have never been official for the two of you, it just... It just went that way, with him coming back to you messed up or not and you accepting him with open arms with no further questions. You were his what he thought his nonexistent home and clarity he never new he have due to his crazy way of thinking. With him being the same as for you, he was your home.

Imagine despite not seeing each other most of the time, Kayden never forgot your anniversary. Even though the two of you never really go out as the two of you were actually busy with your own lives. Kayden always come, never once missing your anniversary. And as if knowing his presence was enough, the two of you would often just be in each other's arms, talking about some crazy stuffs, coming up with so many different fighting theories that you two may or may not soon try.

Imagine being in a relationship with the one and only Kayden Break, the crazy, lunatic fighting maniac, known for his arrogant behaviour only means that you have got to be just as crazy, is not crazier than him because let's be honest. Only those who are crazy enough like him would be able to handle him andnin fact you are. Crazy but only for him and only him ever sice you laid your eyes on him, you knew he have got to be yours at all cost.

Imagine, being in a relationship with Kayden means you have got to be standing on the same ground level as he is. You should be his support and pillar not someone who would only drag him down.

"For someone who only wants to spar you're taking this seriously." "Aren't you the who says one must be prepared to die when fighting you?" You laugh, walking and approaching him from the opposite side of the room where the two of you were having a friendly spar. Something he wouldn't even dare doing with someone but only for you and only you he would do such a thing. After all, fighting with others and having a spar with you was a different thing. Oh, the significant other privilege of the lunatic one. He's only barely sane when it comes to you.

Imagine, always at the very end of your session, one of you would be slammed on the wall but for a very different reason as the two of you was trying to dominate each other as the two of you make out, his tongue slipping inside your mouth as he swallow your moan. One of your arm warped around his neck as the other freely run through his dark blue locks. His arms holding you firmly up, right underneath your tights, your legs around his waist pulling him even closer than he already is to you.

"That's other win for me and another lost for you." It doesn't look like you lose though. "Oh just break me Kayden."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: This is fluff right? Right?? Cuz I genuinely can't write smut for real lmao.

[snekwritesstuff]

Take A Break (pt. 1 of ?)

Pairing: none in this specific part, but eventual BillFiddlesFord/Doomed Polycule/Cursed Love Triangle/whatever it is we're calling this Word Count: 1,251 Warnings: Bill's a little shit, will probably get worse as this goes on, but I'm aiming for as healthy of a relationship as this can be. Eventually. I'm also playing extremely fast and loose with canon, so don't think too hard about it. :)

these absolute buffoons have been plaguing my every waking moment. i HAD to write something. enjoy!

Winter in Oregon was unbearable. It didn't matter how many layers Fiddleford buried himself in, how close he was to the fire, or how much soup and hot chocolate he consumed. He was freezing.

Ford had been busy with the portal as per usual, and while he hadn't missed Christmas per se, the holiday was glossed over. Fidds had spent months on those gloves. He'd also gotten chewed over the phone so harshly for forgetting his wife's present (a mistake he needed to type into the memory gun soon) that the chill in his body wasn't solely from the weather. He had to figure something out with Emma May or he'd lose her, too.

Not that Ford was lost. He was just.. distant. Talking to himself in all hours of the night. Muttering about equations and theories and designs…and Bill.

Bill. What a character. Fidds had left his wife and children for Ford, and yet Ford would rather gallivant with a triangle (???) than spare him a second thought. Whether demonic manipulation had its role or Ford really was just that emotionally ignorant, Fidds was on the backburner. Had been for a while.

He heaved a sigh into his mug. It wouldn't be so bad if he could just get to know Bill. Ford trusted anyone that could stroke his ego, bless him, but Fidds was more calculated than that. That and, well, Bill was a demon. But surely not all demons are bad. Right? If Ford could put so much trust in him, then surely Fidds could give him a chance. 

That settled it. Fidds would march down to the basement and talk to that triangle. In the morning. When he felt like getting out of his bundle of blankets. 

~~~

Ford cleared his throat as he gave Fidds a worried glance. “You want to talk to Bill?”

Fidds could feel himself break into a cold sweat. “I-If that’s possible, then yes.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Ford trailed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking towards the floor. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when they opened again they looked almost pained.

“What’s the matter with you?” Fidds asked, crossing his arms. “You’re ramblin’ about this demon all the live-long day, but when I wanna properly meet ‘im, I can’t get a word outta you.”

“It’s not that simple, Fidds, he–” Ford shook his head. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I can handle a few mean jabs, Ford, been doin’ it my whole life.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Ford’s gaze pinned Fidds to the floor.

“Talk to me, Ford.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” Fidds exclaimed. “I’ve been–You–” With a harsh sigh, Fidds pressed a hand to his shaking head. “Y’know Ford, I’ve staked a lot to be out here with you. My career and my marriage for starters. But–”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that, Fidds–”

“Ford.”

The air went quiet for a moment, the pair stewing in the tension, before Fidds continued. 

“But…Here lately, you’re spendin’ all your time with this Bill character, and I don’t even know what he looks like! I just wanna know who the mysterious third gear in this machine is, so I can learn to trust ‘im, and everything can go back to whatever our definition of normal is. And if that don’t convince you, then, I’m sorry, Ford, but I don’t know if I can keep doin’ this.”

Ford’s eyes lit up in a panic as he rushed forward and took Fidds’ shoulders in his hands. “No, no no, Fidds, you don’t understand. I need you. I need you here, for this project, for my sanity. My Muse is patient, and I’m forever grateful, but if you don’t help me, then…then…”

At the pause, Fidds gently murmured, “Ford?”

“It’s nothing. Never mind.”

“Ford!”

The scientist straightened his posture and turned back towards the portal, his hand covering his mouth. With a shaky exhale, he dropped his hand back to his side and cleared his throat. Fidds just stood, baffled at his friend’s actions, mouth agape. The air remained thick with tension as Fidds nervously played with a loose string on his sleeve. He cleared his throat, turning to go back upstairs.

“I’m worried for you, Stanford. Maybe it’s time to take a good, long break from this project, come back to the real world for a bit. We can go visit Emma May,” Fidds’ voice caught on the name, but he cleared his throat to continue, “or maybe try to find out where your brother’s been. Just…don’t shut me out. Please.”

By the time Ford turned around to answer, Fidds had already gone up the stairs and closed the door behind him. 

~~~~

“Well, well, well, Sixer,” Bill cooed, kicking his feet behind him playfully. “You’ve got ol’ Fiddlesticks whipped for you.”

Ford had fallen asleep in the basement again, which was never good for his back, but he couldn’t bother to face Fidds after their conversation earlier. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to take a break.

“It isn’t like that,” Ford muttered, pouring over the pages in his mind that he would have to copy into his journal later. 

“Coulda fooled me! You should have seen the eyes he was giving you before he went upstairs. Talk about desperate.” Bill spoke as he folded his arms behind his head, swimming through the air. “And that speech you gave about ‘needing him,’ gross. You don’t need him. You need me. You can always find another–”

Ford snapped his book shut and slammed it on the desk. “He is just as important to me as any other part of this project.”

“Any other part?” Bill’s eye narrowed. 

Swallowing thickly, Ford tried to think of the best way to backpedal out of this bordering-on-dangerous conversation. “I’m not a machinist. You’re not…You can’t be here until the portal’s built. Without him, the whole plan falls to pieces.”

“I dunno, Sixer, it sounds like you’re putting that hillbilly hick on a pedestal far too tall for his own good.” The demon brought a hand up to Ford’s chin, grasping it firmly and bringing the focus back to him. “He’s not your Muse, is he?”

“Of course not–”

“Maybe I should pay him a visit. He’s sleeping so peacefully. It wouldn’t be hard. Maybe I can be his Muse, give you a taste of what it’s like to be alone since you seem to have forgotten what it was like before me.” With each sentence, Bill’s hold grew tighter. “As a matter of fact, Sixer, I think I will give him the conversation he so desperately craves.”

Ford clamped his lips together, his eyes pleading for Bill not to go through with it, but knowing better than to argue with his beloved Muse. The demon’s eye twitched in a way that meant he was smiling, at least as far as Ford could tell, before patting the scientist’s cheek. 

“I love when you look at me like that,” Bill murmured. “Like there’s nothing else in the world. Exactly as it should be. But! Very naughty pet human. I need to go see ol’ Fiddlesticks so you don’t get any ideas in the future.”

“My Muse, please, don’t hurt him.”

Bill pressed a hand to his bowtie and scoffed dramatically. “I would never hurt my pet’s favorite toy, and I’m offended that you think I would. Anyway, sleep tight, Sixer! See you soon.”

[pandorasprongs]

JAMIE TARTT | and i don't even like you that much. wait, i do. f*ck.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: jamie is actually a board game nerd and starts spending more time with one of the employees of a local shop.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: this idea came to me as someone asked me if i wanted to buy another volume of a board game we had HAHA if you can figure out what game i'm referring to in this story, hmu! alsooo i want to apologize for the length i swear i didn't mean for it to get that long, but still, i hope you all enjoy! title is from the song 'apple cider' by beabadoobee!

It was another slow morning in the store, given that most of your frequent customers were forced to be in school at this time. You ended up continuing one of the readings for your class during your shift. Despite a wave of drowsiness hitting you the moment you opened the book, it was still better having free time to be tired than the afternoon rush when 13-year-old boys came in to get another booster pack of Magic: The Gathering cards.

You were practically setting all these children up for a gambling addiction the way they'd spend 20 pounds trying to get one of those shiny ones in their deck. You never bothered to learn the names really, because that wasn't part of your job description. When it came to those kinds of things, those boys probably knew more than you did.

When it came to board games though, that was your area of expertise. It was partly one of the reasons you applied to work here while you were finishing up your Master's, — and also because of how generous the owner was with your salary, — so you always loved helping people out for their board game nights. You didn't have regulars that would come in often, but here and there, there would be a person you recognize from before asking about another game.

You don't know how much time had passed, but after deciding that your brain could no longer take reading the word cognitive multiple times in a sentence, you end up shutting the book and resting your head on the counter.

Soon after though, you hear the bell at the top of the door ring, causing you to jolt up. You only catch a glimpse of the guy walking towards you before he drops his head, his cap completely blocking his face, and a loose black hoodie covering his frame.

For a second, you get worried that the store was about to get robbed but the man finally stops in front of you and speaks, in a thick Mancunian accent. "Do you have any suggestions for board games? Like for family and stuff,"

You swear you've heard his voice before. Maybe from school? Or a former customer? You decide to shake it off before replying. "Well, this is a board game store, so there's quite a lot to pick from. Do you have any specific theme in mind? How many players?"

"There'll be 3 of us, but I'm not really picky with the game. Not any of those monopoly type shit though, cause I'm sick of never winning."

You chuckle at the revelation and that's what gets the man to look up at you. It definitely wasn't his appearance he was worried about. His chiseled jaw and striking blue eyes almost draw you in, not to mention his hairstyle looks eerily like the one David Beckham had in the 90s, who you had to admit was a crush of yours as a kid. He could even pass as a contestant on one of those dating reality shows.

And then it hits you where you've heard his voice before. This guy was on Lust Conquers All and was immediately voted off. You remember it well because your sister was so pissed at him for joining the show since the football season had just started. Jamie something, but the show never mentioned his last name. You try to hide your realization by turning to the shelf behind you.

"Alright uh, I’d recommend this one." You turn back around and slide it across the counter as Jamie (?) starts looking at the box from all angles.

"Looks cool," is all he says in reply and he looks back at you, presumably for you to explain the game. You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before going on your usual introduction to the game.

"Basically in the game, there are 4 characters you can choose to be your 'heroes.' Your main objective is to get your opponent's health to 0 using the different cards in your set. All the characters have different decks and skills you can use throughout the game, and some of them even have side kicks." You look back up for a second to see his expression and you can tell that you're still holding his interest.

"So for example in the one I gave you, you can battle Sinbad, Medusa, King Arthur, and Alice, who's fucking amazing, by the way."

"Alice? From fucking Wonderland?" You laugh at his surprise before nodding to affirm it. "She's your favorite then?"

"How'd you know?" You ask sarcastically. "But yeah, she's just really versatile and it's just really fun to shrink and grow every turn just to piss off the other players. I'm practically unbeatable using her." You admit though you're not really sure why.

Most of the time when customers come in here for a game, they don't ask questions and just buy the first one you suggest. That’s probably why you answered Jamie's question so earnestly. Cause he's the first one to ever ask you what you liked about the game.

You quickly run through the rest of the rules and mechanics of the game with Jamie chiming in occasionally. You describe the other editions as well and Jamie is tempted to buy the other one — "How is anyone supposed to beat fucking Dracula?" — before he ultimately decides to take home the one you offered.

"If I end up losing using Alice, you owe me a refund." He states as you ring up the game. You playfully roll your eyes as you scan the barcode on the box.

"Oh yeah, since you're the first customer of the day, you get a 7% discount on your purchase," you quickly inform him when you glance at the post-it note on the register screen reminding you about it in bold letters.

Instead of the usual gratefulness or blip of happiness from hearing that news, Jamie instead asks, "Is that really a thing or are you doing it because you know who I am?"

You look at him to check if he's serious and given his blank look, you assume he is. You don't know how to respond to that, so instead you just slowly shake your head.

"Wait, do you not know who I am?" His question itself comes off as arrogant, but given the genuine surprise in your voice, you're not sure how to feel about the guy after he says it.

You decide to answer him honestly. "I do, but given that you walked in here in clothes that make you look like a stalker who's about to rob the place, I didn't think you'd want me to make a big fuss about it, Jamie."

His shoulders seem to relax at your statement and once he goes quiet, he finally pulls out his wallet. You quickly place the game in a paper bag and hand it over to him.

He whispers a quick thanks and turns to leave, before pausing. He turns back to you, "Look, it's not like I'm dressed this way because I'm embarrassed to be in a store like this—"

"I didn't think you were," you answer blankly with a hint of sarcasm. You decide to mess with the guy a little bit because hey, when's the next time a famous footballer comes into your store again? "Why, is there something I should be embarrassed about?"

Jamie quickly shakes his head. "No, fuck no! I think it's cool, really. You know, being surrounded by all these games and cards and knowing so much about them. Especially someone like you,"

You tilt your head in amusement. "What do you mean someone like me?" Jamie's embarrassment only seems to deepen at that.

"Fuck I didn't mean it like that. Honestly, when I came in here, I was expecting some teenage boy to be at the counter. Wait no— I mean, girls can like all this stuff too! I just didn't expect someone attr—," he stops himself and shakes his head. "Shit, wait,"

You watch Jamie scramble for words and you decide to just put an end to his misery. "Look, look, I was just joking around. I don't give that much of a shit about what you said." The football player visibly relaxes and you hold in a laugh at that reaction. "And you're basically right about the kind of people who work here. Most of my co-workers can't work these hours right now 'cause they're off studying for their A-Levels."

"Yeah, well thank you for this," Jamie lifts the bag slightly and you give him a genuine smile.

"No problem. Hope you enjoy the game! And if you ever feel compelled to dress like a shitty robber again, you can come back and tell me what you think." Your sarcasm no longer throws Jamie off who instead, just playfully rolls his eyes and leaves the store.

You go back to your reading for your behavioral science class, putting your interaction with the football player in the back of your mind.

—

The next time you see Jamie is two weeks later, although this time, he comes in right before closing. Technically, you weren't the only one assigned for this shift, but you decided to let your co-worker go home early since he said he had an English exam the next day and still hadn't studied.

So, you were counting down the minutes to 8 pm when you hear someone come inside. Fucking hell. You force a smile, "Hi, welcome! We'll be closing in a few minutes, but please approach me if you need anything so you can have a speedier process."

"Are you really that desperate to get rid of me?" The person moves away from the shelves and turns out to be Jamie Tartt, you learn his last name is. He's wearing another grey hoodie but seems to have decided to ditch his hat. Good, because you weren't sure how much longer you could stare at the ICON written on it and not judge him. "I wanna know, did you think offering to help the customer would get them out of here quicker?"

"I had to try something," you defend yourself, shrugging. You notice Jamie carrying the bag you used to wrap the board game and slightly frown. "Didn't like the game?"

He follows your eyes and is quick to correct you. "I loved it, actually. First time playing a board game that Simon didn't win during the first round." You aren't sure who Simon is, but you laugh nonetheless. "And you're right, Alice is fucking unbeatable."

"I'm glad you liked it, and Alice," you start, but then glance at the time on your phone. "But, is that the only reason you came here?"

"Well no, I was wondering if you wanted to play. That's why I came so late, in case there would be too many people if I came at the usual time."

"Yeah, there was a fuck ton, actually, as you can tell from the fully stocked store." You say, pretending to look around the room. "But sure, if you want. I don't have anything going on tomorrow anyway," Now you're really glad that you didn't procrastinate that paper due tonight.

Jamie smiles as he starts to unbox the set and you grab one of the chairs behind the counter and push it to the other side for the footballer.

Never did you imagine you would spend a Saturday night with a hot football player playing one of your favorite board games, but here you were. In between one of the rounds, the topic of football is brought up and you admit that you don't know all that much about it despite your family being made up of fanatics.

"Everyone has their team they support. My dad loves Arsenal, my mum loves Chelsea, and my sister bounces between West Ham and Crystal Palace. Though, she fucking hates Rupert Mannion, so maybe this is the end of her West Ham support." You answer as you shuffle Jamie's deck.

"Shit, the season must be fun for you guys," Jamie remarks and you snort, though instantly regretting letting that sound out. The football player looks unfazed, so you decide not to apologize for it and answer his question instead.

"Yeah, I basically end up being their messenger till the finals, which ends up becoming World War 3 if their teams are competing," you hand him his deck back and start the round, but your conversation doesn't end there.

"What team would you support then, if you got into football?" He looks hopefully at you.

"Yours, probably." You confirm as you look through your first hand of cards. "I mean, I'm about to destroy one of their players at this game. It's the least I can do."

"We'll see about that," Jamie replies and you roll your eyes playfully, but you smile.

Working at the store meant you were surrounded by board game fans every day, but not even your regulars would come in here after your shift to play. You couldn't help but feel warm at how Jamie matched your enthusiasm about the game, something, you admit, you didn't expect from the player. You knew nothing would probably come from this harmless happy crush of yours, but if he decided to start coming in often to play, you wouldn't be opposed to it.

Your attention turns back to the game once Jamie picks his next move. He smirks at his decision until his expression suddenly shifts. "Wait, if you're not into football, how'd you know who I was the other day?"

You move your piece before looking directly into Jamie's eyes and respond, "I just really love trashy reality shows." Jamie playfully groans at the reminder and you burst into laughter before you continue the game.

True to form, whichever of the two of you uses Alice is the one to win that round. You finally decide on a tie-breaker with your favorite being banned from usage.

"Christ, if this is how you maneuver in a board game, I wonder how good you are at football." You tease, as you glance at his character being at only 4HP.

"I'm fucking amazing, actually. Ask your family, they'll tell you." Jamie moves a few spaces on the board, hoping to escape your Medusa, but instead, he falls into one of your traps.

You corner him and finally reduce his King Arthur's health. "And there you go, 3-2."

It takes Jamie a second to absorb everything before he slouches. "Fucking hell." You laugh before getting up from your chair and helping him keep all the pieces and cards.

"Better luck next time, Tartt."

Jamie, whose competitive side seems to be shining in this game, doesn't let it end there.

Almost every week, he would come into the store at night asking to play. He was definitely getting better, but after making a deal where the loser has to tell an embarrassing story after the round, you realize you know more about him than he probably does about you.

"God Jamie, how are you alive?" You ask as he shares a story from when he first started the league.

"How was I supposed to know doing multiple headers in one match could lead to a bloody concussion?" He retorts, only making your eyes widen even more.

"I'm pretty sure that's common knowledge to about 80% of the population," you say through your laughter.

It's almost 10 when you finish playing, so you grab your jacket and start heading to the door with Jamie. You lock the store up and notice that Jamie's still hanging around you.

It's dark outside, but it seems like his features were even more enhanced by the moonlight. The light hit his eyes just the right way that it made the blue more evident. You notice just then how his hair is neater today, mainly because of his sports headband. The front strands of his hair had fallen out it though, falling on his face in just the right way that it gave you butterflies. Did all footballers look this attractive?

You realize that you may have been starting a bit too long and as you tuck the keys in your jacket pocket, you decide to ask, "Need anything else?"

Jamie opens his mouth to say something, but instead, he just shakes his head. "Nothing actually, just good night," he waves and starts walking in the opposite direction, but you swear you hear him muttering something under his breath.

—

It had been a week since then and you had to start telling yourself to not be so excited when you hear the bell ring. Every time it did, you'd look expectantly at the door expecting to see Jamie again, asking for another or a new volume or even just game tips. Each time, you'd end up disappointed and would have to fake a smile to the customer approaching you.

This time you hear it ring, and you do your best to not look up. If it was Jamie, you knew that your boss George probably would be sounding an alarm. You only learned the Monday after that he was a major AFC Richmond fan when you mentioned that a football player had visited the store multiple times to play board games.

"Do you think we can get him to sign a picture and put it on the wall? Can you ask?" You quickly have to explain how those interactions were the only times you ever spoke to Jamie and had no actual way of contacting him.

As you close your laptop, — one more paragraph and that essay is done! — you look up to find two guys standing in front of you.

"Hi, do you have any board game recommendations?" the one on the right greeted, his accent quickly revealing him to be Welsh.

You don't have a chance to answer because the left one lightly elbows his friend before whispering (though loud enough for you to hear), "He already told us what to get, bruv."

You may not know who this 'he' is, but the guy pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of a board game, the same one you recommended to Jamie. Wishful thinking gets you to believe that they were friends of his and he liked it so much that he told them about it. And maybe about you, too.

You've never been so happy to be right.

You nod your head and as he kept his phone, you started pulling the same edition from the shelf behind you when you hear a screeching sound that almost made you drop the box.

"Oh my God, Colin Hughes, and Isaac McAdoo!" George exclaims and you wonder where you've heard those names before.

The owner joins you at the counter as you place the board game in front of you. Maybe you weren't pretending to be as peppy as you usually do, because George decides to ask, "How are you so calm? Do you know who these guys are? They're Colin Hughes and Isaac McAdoo!"

"I heard you the first time," you turn to the two guys once again, embarrassed on behalf of your boss.

"They're part of the starting team of AFC Richmond!" And that's when it clicks. On one of your all-nighters, you decided to take a break and search up Jamie Tartt just to see what you could find. You ended up at his club's website and saw the rest of the players as well. You didn't pay them much attention given that you were so focused on player number 9, but you saw enough pictures to recognize them, at least.

"So you guys do know Jamie," you think out loud and the two players turn to each other, before sharing looks of realization.

"Oh, you're the girl!" Colin exclaims and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, I guess so," you try and act as nonchalantly as possible, so neither of them picks up on anything. You turn back to the game and ask, "Is this the one you wanted?"

"Jamie said there were other versions?" Isaac asks and you nod your head to confirm it, which he smiles at. "We want the Sherlock one."

"Okay," you reach for that one on the shelf as George starts offering them discounts on the game.

When he almost offers to give it to them for free along with another set, you stop him by slamming the box on the counter. Why were you the one trying to keep his business alive? "Here it is, hope you enjoy it!"

You ring up their purchase, still trying to hold your boss back from scaring these footballers away before they can pay. You finally bag the whole thing and hand it to them. "Thank you!" you shout as they exit the store.

"Yeah, see you soon!" George says afterward and you look at him in confusion.

"What the fuck was that, George?" He only sighs, most likely the embarrassment only hitting him at that exact moment.

Once he goes back to doing inventory, you can't help but replay what Colin said. Oh, you're the girl! Why was such a simple phrase like that affecting you so much? For all you know, he might've mentioned you being a sore winner, which wouldn't be the first time you've been called that.

But you still hope he said good things about you and maybe even kept better things he thought to himself.

—

"Okay, time's up. Please pass your papers." You write one last word as you get up to give your exam to the proctor, sighing in relief that the semester is finally over.

You had asked for leave for the past few days and didn't have a shift until tomorrow, so you decide to treat yourself to some coffee and pasta for lunch at the campus cafe.

As you settle down at one of the tables, you get a phone call from George. He was more than happy to let you take the time off, so you wonder what emergency had to happen for him to contact you.

As soon as you pick up, George screams your name into the phone. You pull it away from your ear for a second, and respond, "What? What do you need?"

"Look, I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off, but you said that your test ended at 2:30, so I decided to hold off calling you till then. Anyway, someone came in a few days ago asking if we host board game nights."

"And we do," you answer for him as you chew your sandwich.

"Right, and then he said that he was from AFC Richmond." You flinch after imagining how your boss could've reacted at that revelation. "They wanted to hold it a few days ago," George pauses.

"Why didn't you say yes? You could've been game master."

"Yeah well, I wanted to, but they specifically asked for you to go." You put down your sandwich and straighten up. George continues, "I told them you were on leave, but they said they could wait till you were back at work. I said that your test was this morning and I would ask if you'd be willing to end your leave early."

"Okay, sure." You answer, a little faster than you intended. You couldn't believe that the team — and maybe even Jamie personally, — was willing to postpone their game night just so you would be the one to facilitate it.

The surprise was evident in George's voice. Normally, you would reject his idea the moment he mentioned board game nights, but something about this was different for you. "Oh okay, well, I'll send you the address. I'll be bringing the boards there since you don't have a car and I'll meet you there at 4 pm. It's a restaurant, so maybe you can get something to eat before 'cause shit can get crazy at those things and it's best to load up."

You don't know how a board game night could get crazy, but you decide not to comment on it. He sends you the details through text before you end the call and continues eating your sandwich. The place wasn't too far from campus, so you didn't have to rush to get there. But after 10 minutes, you consumed your sandwich and were out the door with your coffee in hand.

While walking, you decided to familiarize yourself more with the players trying to put names to face before you had to interact with all of them at once. You started to get the hang of it, — even looking at team photos and naming them one by one as a test — as you get to the venue at around half past 3.

You arrive at a restaurant called Ola's, and you remember seeing one of the Richmond players post about it. Your dad wanted to have dinner here once, but they were always fully booked so the four of you gave up trying to get a table there.

Because of that, you expected the place to be swamped with customers, but instead find an almost empty restaurant. You notice one guy standing in the middle of it and approach him.

"Hi," He turns around and you recognize him as Sam Obisanya, meaning he must be the owner. You introduce yourself quickly before asking, "Am I at the right place? I'm here to help host a board game tournament."

Sam's eyes widen as he seems to recognize you. "Oh yes, this is the place. Sorry, I didn't expect you to be so early. We already fixed up the tables, but I can also help in setting up the boards if you like."

"Ah no, it's alright. My boss is the one who’s bringing them. I came from my university, so I don't have any of them on me right now." You quickly explain and Sam nods as he leads you to one of the tables to relax, while he grabs some appetizers from the kitchen.

He makes his way back to the table, though he can't seem to stop looking at you. You subconsciously start fixing your hair, wondering if you should've gone to the bathroom before going in here.

He seems to pick up on this and is quick to reassure you, "Oh, I'm sorry for staring. It's just Jamie has mentioned you so many times, so it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the football player. You grab some of the food he offered as you reply as calmly as you can, "Oh yeah, did he tell you how he is nowhere close to beating my number of wins?"

Sam lets out a short chuckle. "No, but I'm not surprised. He did say you're very good at it." You smile and decide to ask why they decided to do a board game night.

It takes a second before Sam replies, "Oh well, Coach always says to do team-building activities every once in a while, and seeing as Jamie has asked almost everyone on the team to play the game at least once, we thought it would be a good idea. I think Isaac and Colin got their own board too and they started bringing it to the clubhouse."

"Shit, I didn't realize that football players loved board games so much," you remarked as you hear the door to the restaurant open.

Both of you look up to see George, who is trying to carry 12 boxes of board game sets. You rush out of your seat to help him out and so does Sam. The sight of the player almost makes your boss drop all of them from his arms, but you quickly scoop four of them and Same takes another four.

"Sam Obisanya," George exhales, once some of the weight is literally lifted off him.

The player simply says, "Hello," and states that he'll start setting up the four boards on the tables near the back.

You snap your fingers to get George out of the trance and the two of your start setting up on the rest of your tables, dropping the character figurines at the bar table and putting the sign-up sheet next to it. Slowly, the restaurant starts filling up with players with George gradually losing his mind at the number of footballers from his favorite team.

You finally get him to leave, but only by promising to convince the team to take a picture with him when he came back to pick up the boards. You're pretty sure he's already making plans to put it on a canvas and hang it on his bed.

You settle yourself behind the bar table to be in charge of the players setting up, each time expecting it to be Jamie standing in front of you. You try and keep your focus on the task at hand every time you hear the boys greet someone new.

Isaac and Colin are the next to write their names and they give you a look that you can't quite decipher. Soon enough, Jamie finally gets here and you straighten up in your seat. He greets some of the players till his eyes land on you.

He approached the bench and once he looked up, he observed out loud. "You're here,”

"Aw, did you want to get rid of me that badly?" You mimic him before explaining that you finished your leave earlier, "just to see you, of course." — with some truth behind that statement. Jamie laughs — albeit, a little awkwardly, — and takes the clipboard. As he signs up, you decide to take the chance to tease him. "Heard you were talking about me to your teammates."

Jamie's eyes widen and he stops writing to shoot glares at the rest of AFC Richmond, not sure who told you. Jamie turns back to you and you laugh. "Don't worry, Tartt. I'm sure you just told them how I'm an absolute god at the game and you're glad I'm not playing tonight." The football player simply rolls his eyes as he joins his teammates.

Once the whole team is complete along with their kit-man Will, you decide to start the tournament. "Okay, hi everyone! Welcome to your board game night." The crowd cheers and you're startled by their enthusiasm. You quickly explain the rules of the night, — though they seem to already know most of it, — and the order of players. It's a draw lots method, so the players will be randomly given a character and an opponent.

Once everyone gets their characters and settles in, you start making rounds in case anyone had any questions. After a while, you start heading back to the bar when someone taps you on the shoulder. You find Jamie already done with his round.

"How'd you win that quickly?" You don't try to hide the surprise in your voice. "Even I take like 20 minutes minimum to win."

"Oh I didn't," Jamie clarifies, and you widen your eyes. "I just couldn't attack Dani. I mean, look at that face." You turn to their table and find Dani smiling at you — "This is fun!" — and waving using his Dracula figurine.

You laugh at his reasoning. "Alright then, guess you're done for the night." You walk back to the bar and Jamie stops on the opposite side of it.

"You hungry? Sam said there's prepped meals in the back and since none of the games are ending soon…" Jamie offers and you obliged, seeing as this might be the only time you might ever get to eat in this restaurant. He grabs two plates from there and settles down next to you. Surprisingly, he managed to grab one of your favorite dishes. You remember mentioning to him that you had tried it at another restaurant in the past and loved it, but you doubt he even remembers it and dubbed it a coincidence.

You decide to keep the topic off board games and instead let him talk about what he's doing since he last saw you. Turns out they had multiple back-to-back matches, so practice was tight and he didn't have time to visit you. He also said the next time he did, it was one of your teenage co-workers manning the counter.

"Oh, Chuck! Yeah, he's pretty shit at board games." You say blankly while you shove another spoonful of food into your mouth.

"I ended up just buying a card game and leaving." Jamie continues and you laugh.

"Sorry, you went all the way there for just that. I go to class on Wednesdays, so I don't have a shift then." The conversation then shifts to your degree and you explain that you plan on becoming a psychologist.

"There is another upside to getting that degree too," Jamie chimes in, and you tilt your head. "You can fuck with someone's head while playing."

"Okay, psychology isn't mind control." Though, you think about it for a second. "But it is pretty close. You’ll be my first victim.” You make your sound more ghostly in that last sentence and Jamie pretends to act terrified and faint.

There is a short silence between the two of you when you realize that most of the rounds are done. You start organizing the next round and once the games start, the other players start going around and rooting for their teammates.

It leaves the area near the bar much more isolated and Jamie lowers his voice. "About that card game I got, it's pretty fun, too."

"Yeah?" You ask as you bring your plate back to the kitchen.

"Yeah. I'd love to take you out and talk about it," you stop in your tracks before turning back to the footballer who adds, “If you want."

You turn around to see Jamie is much closer to you now. It's only then you realize how much taller he was than you, but despite that, you’re not intimidated, especially with him looking so expectantly at you.

It takes a second before your mouth turns into a smile. "I think I'd like that."

Jamie does this small bounce thing on his heels, before trying to tone it down. You only laugh and kiss him on the cheek before heading to the crowd of players. He follows suit and rests his arm on your shoulders.

Some of his teammates notice and start cheering. You look at them confused before deciding to ask Jamie, "Was this all an elaborate scheme to ask me out?"

He shakes his head, "No, 'course not. Was there a deal made after I lost a game to Jan? Possibly," The both of you laugh as you playfully push his head away. You start to accept that this unfairly attractive football player — whom you'll be going on a date soon — can be as much of a nerd as you.

If this is what George meant when he said game nights could get crazy, well, maybe you should’ve given them a chance earlier.

[mysticcoffeecat]

okay but can we talk about 'Mystery of the Urinal Deuce' because this episode is literally EVERYTHING when it comes to Stan and Kyle's friendship. Marsh is playing dumb the whole episode and Kyle is losing his goddamn mind over it. The betrayal. The DRAMA.

Stan in this scene knows damn well that everything is a conspiracy (he admits as much later in the episode and knows that Kyle thinks the same thing). And Kyle knows damn well that Stan out of everyone should also know this, because Stan is the one person he can usually count on to back him up on this type of shit. But Stan is the one messing with him in this episode, so we get these fun moments of Stan letting loose and enjoying pranking his friend Kyle. 

Many see the Assburger's duology as the establishment and turning point of Stan’s character. And while it certainly establishes his clinical depression, I’d argue it in no way establishes either his tendency towards depression/melancholy OR cynicism as both of those have always been present from the beginning (but that’s another discussion for another day. I already basically wrote an essay on that a longgg time ago that maybe I’ll share later).

When it comes to a true  ‘turning point’ for Stan’s character, I think of ‘Raisin’s’ ‘from Season 7, which expands on his already present tendency towards sensitivity and annoyances with general society and evolves it into a deep melancholy and detachment from society (at times bordering on nihilism, something we see more of from Stan post Season 7’s ‘Raisins’ such as in the ‘Douche and Turd’ episode in Season 8 and many other episodes). I don’t see the ‘You’re Getting Old’ episode as the turning point for Stan’s character at all. I see it more as an extension of what I actually view as his turning point episode of ‘Raisin’s’. 

What I love about ‘Mystery of the Urinal Deuce’ is it is a post ‘Raisin’s’ episode where Stan just gets to play around, which is sadly something we just don’t see from Stan post-season 7 as often. 

Kyle has always been the easiest target for Cartman not even necessarily because of his traits, but because of his reactions. He is super reactive to everything, and Stan knows this. Unlike Cartman, Stan respects this and usually stands up for Kyle when this aspect of him is taken advantage of. But at the same time, this doesn’t mean that Stan doesn’t like to tease Kyle at times - because let’s be real; Kyle’s high reactivity would make it so fun to mess with him. And in this episode, Stan takes advantage of that. 

And while usually I hate people taking advantage of Kyle in this way, it is so goddamn refreshing to see Stan just being able to let go of all the heavy shit that’s been so key to his character emotionally post-Season 7 and just play around with his bestie in this episode, something I think that at the core of his character he ultimately just wants to be able to do at the end of the day. you can TASTE the shit-eating grin in his voice. he is having the TIME OF HIS LIFE watching Kyle spiral. stan tries so GODDAMN hard to find happiness throughout the series to no avail, so it’s refreshing the times he succeeds and gets to just actually be himself.

Later on in the episode, Stan is also just able to let loose. His ‘Well dude, maybe we’re just badass, have you ever thought of that?’ later on in the episode is said so nonchalantly with him literally smirking, and it cracks me up every time as he tries to appease Kyle’s doubts. He is thoroughly enjoying pranking his friend. 

like yes give me more of this next season?? give me more of stan actually getting to be a kid and mess around with his best friend instead of drowning in existential dread 24/7? please and thank you?

[thevoidisvoid]

Writing this because Sexy Dragon Man needs more love.

Adamai x Reader

Also cross-posted on Ao3, along with my NSFW works.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?"

You loved the rain. The way that it cleansed the air sending a fresh scent of pure earthy smells around you.

It was different here, then it had been on earth. Much more calming and relaxing despite all the evil in the World of Twelve. It was times like this that you didn't regret coming back.

Not that you had any control over that.

You'd built your cottage on the edge of the Sadida Kingdom, close enough where you could return in emergency situations, but far enough you remained undisturbed….

For the most part.

You finish the final touches on your painting, enjoying how easy it came to you now. It was simple here, and it was exactly what you needed. 

���______.”

You jump up immediately spinning around before breaking into a soft grin.

“Adamai.”

You hug him tightly, dragging him down slightly to your height. (Not that you were short of course, but he was so ridiculously tall.)

“I missed you.”

You stand there for a good while, enjoying his touch. It felt so good to be alive right now, that it brushed your anxieties away. His tail wraps loosely around your leg as he pulls away slightly to drag you into a kiss.

Everything was perfect.

You hum as a clawed hand comes up to hold your face, and you can't help but lean into his touch. You couldn't ask for anything better, this was all you need.

A few more long moments passed before he let you go. His tail still wrapped protectively around you. 

“I see you've been painting again.”

He sounds amused as he grasps your hands, inspecting the ink and paint splattered up your hands and arms. 

“Yes, and I think this is my best one yet.”

You sit back down on your stool, enjoying how he moved to cradle your body in his arms. You lean back against his chest. You're rewarded by a quiet purr, and his head resting on top of yours.

You both watch the rain fall from the view of your balcony. You didn't think this could get any better.

“We should get married.”

It takes you a moment to process what he said. And it was startling to realize what he had said, when you fully registered it.

“What?”

It's his turn to hum, his tail twisting a little tighter around your leg.

“I know you heard me.”

“Adamai, I thought you…”

You look downward, face ablaze at your shock and surprise. You now knew that you'd made an assumption about him, and had just been proven wrong.

“Thought I what..?”

His voice has a teasing tone as he looks down at you.

“I thought that you didn't want marriage or something…because you're a dragon..?”

There's no way you can't make that sound any better, and to your relief he laughs.

“Just because I disprove many of the traditions people have, doesn't mean I reject them all.”

That…made sense actually.

“I guess I just don't see you as the marriage type.”

“Oh really?”

His voice still has a teasing tone to it, and you stifle a giggle as his claws brush your side. 

“Does this mean no then?”

“No!”

You slap a hand over your mouth at that, cheeks flushed at your sudden outburst.

“I mean, ahem, no. I didn't mean it to come out like that.”

“What's your answer then?”

You don't miss how his tail pauses in its gentle movement, and how he remains silent. His whole body tense as he waits for your response.”

“Yes.”

Immediately all tension flees him, and he buries his face into your shoulder. 

“Good.”

You roll your eyes at his response, glad that he can't see how red your face is. He was stupid and prideful sometimes.

But he was your stupid dragon. And in that moment, it was all you needed.

[fricc-darn]

More dating B.E.N hcs but sprinkle in some love

(some BEN angst if you squint n slight warning for toxic relationships)

When it comes to BEN and affection it's a tricky situation. It only cares about other moon children in the network. For other people, the concept of love is not on their mind. Due to that, it's not often you'll experience loving moments with them.

Their love is rare and will take time to form as this is reserved for a specific kind of person. Someone who it enjoys the presence of. A person who's a pleasure to mess with but isn't too easy. Someone who keeps things interesting. The perfect toy? In a sense yes! This type of love is genuine. It's truly a weird scenario because BEN continues to be a menace while attempting to be sweet.

Of course, these acts should be appreciated to some degree. At least attempts are being made. Despite how flawed these acts are, it's treatment others don't see. You should feel lucky that you're an exception. The last thing BEN wants is for you to end up dead. Though if you have gotten this far, you'd certainly know to appreciate these moments.

BEN's words of affirmation are just as concise and vague as their regular speech. When it compliments you at worst it's backhanded. At best they come off as someone talking to a beloved pet. Occasionally, it'll complement you in an odd amount of detail. Pointing out quirks that you don't even notice.

Now, if they really like you they have a tendency to info dump. Though they try to keep it at a minimum. They wouldn't want you getting too curious and becoming nosey.

For the most part; simple phrases like "I love you." or "Cute." work fine. It'll take time for you to figure out whether or not BEN is being genuine. Even when you get the hang of it, there's still a nagging uncertainty present. This process would be much easier if they weren't so deceitful. The first time BEN loosely said the words 'I love you' it was out of the blue during a flurry of obsessive messages and threats. They refused to elaborate until much later and took whatever response you had as a yes.

At first, it only communicates with you online or through poltergeist-like activities. They'll even appear in your dreams as individual moon children. These dreams are surprisingly pleasant in comparison to the nightmares. With a substantial amount of trust, you learn more about the spirits as individuals.

Hearing the bits and pieces of what they remember about their past really makes sense of their behavior. Just don't even think about pitying them. Even if its well meaning, the outcome won't be in your favor.

None of them can stand being vulnerable. Especially if they don't have the means to take over the situation. In those almost unthinkable scenarios, it would trigger them into emotional distress. Which isn't something you'd expect from BEN of all people. To avoid that, they lead you to the information with breadcrumbs.

When BEN decides to appear physically, things really get fun!

They aren't too fond of physical affection. You can ask, but it will often result in a no. They have to be the ones to initiate it. There are plenty of reasons but it's mainly for the comfort of each moon child. You'll quickly learn who hates being touched, who doesn't mind, or who enjoys it.

Dealing with BEN is like dealing with a cat with an awful attitude. A spiteful shithead to its core. When they're not toying with your stuff, they'll come up to you whenever they feel like to bother you. From hugging, breathing down your neck, or maybe even biting you. The ladder isn't always ideal since BEN has way too many teeth. When this happens, it doesn't have much of a care for what you're doing or if you want to be bothered. BEN has some major cuteness aggression towards you. They play rough and oddly enough they're pretty strong.

Hugs and hand holding are the most common form of affection you'll get. When you're asleep they might even decide to cuddle with you. Be warned, BEN will take up most of the bed for no good reason. You also have to be prepared for potentially getting scared half to death in the middle of the night. Besides the distorted whispers, it's uncanny generated face will stare at you while you sleep. When you sleep with them it doesn't feel like a person is sleeping next to you. It's more like a general presence. BEN's skin is cold more often than not. Its skin seems to get warm off of your body heat or if there's something going on inside of its head. At least they're soft and squishy.

Can BEN kiss? Sorta. Its kisses are chaste and usually on the cheek. They're a prude, and a super hypocritical one at that. If they happen to kiss you on the lips it's essentially like kissing a mannequin with synthetic skin. It's cold and awkward. They're artificial in almost every sense of the word. Its mouth is the texture of gooey silicone with a long tongue and plenty of teeth. Kissing it is an experience that only you get to have. BEN really tries to be a good kisser but it just doesn't work out. It may be a questionable kisser but it's not sloppy. For that has no appeal, BEN prefers kisses to be simple and clean.

[bugcatcherkit]

What are your thoughts on Reigen I'm so curious now

Ohhh where do i start with Contradictions Georg himself.... Masking Andy... (clenches teeth) I have to make a list so I don't rant about one particular thing only.

the thing that hits hardest for me about his character is his Existentialism man. it's terribly relatable. Indeed, he is a Very Small Guy in a Very Big World and it's difficult to be Seen because of that. But also he's littered with Fear of Being Perceived and Understood. So he deals with his Existentialism by reaching for something (he doesn't know what) that'll make him somebody (he doesn't know who, just that it can't be his genuine self). MAN!!!!!!

Second thing that hits hard about his character is his unfiltered insecurities and self-loathing. Every time someone goes "We have to talk" he goes over every mistake or possible mistake he's ever made. He's the type of guy to search up the meaning of a word before he uses it, even if he's used it a 100 times before. Because what if he's wrong this one specific time?? Also his insecurities frequently make him act worse (sometimes on purpose, sometimes not) rather than better (as opposed to Mob most of the time) and i appreciate that so much.

I appreciate his Just Some Guyness over his babygirlness (not that they can't coexist i guess). Sorry guys. This is also why i think i prefer manga Reigen over anime Reigen. Like i can appreciate anime Reigen's maxed-out eccentricities and stuff, but overall I like the more Reservedness (?) that manga Reigen has. Personally it makes his groundedness, bad actions, and self-improvement hit a little harder. It goes well with his struggle to display his emotions in a loose and genuine way.

but despite this he's still silly. and frequently outlandishly embarrassing. and these are super important to his character also. Alongside his very genuine concern and care for the lives of others at any given moment.

He's always talking about his interpersonal relationships in terms of the Respect the other party holds for him. and then Separation Arc comes in with a steel chair that says "you have to give respect back to make a relationship Good and Fair and Genuine, idiot."

the only relationship this doesn't hold true to is with Dimple. Neither of them have any respect for each other really. And it's awesome.

i love how he is always just some Mediocre guy. He slowly self-improves certain aspects of his life but at the end of the day he's still paying Grown Man Serizawa 300 yen an hour (last time I checked). So.

Him being Mob's foil also means he has a lot in common with other Mob antagonists. But he has so many Mogamisms that it drives me up the wall. Sometimes he'll say a Mogamism and in my mind Mob looks at him with such a sudden intensity that he gets Scared

I frequently think of the scene where he is at the bar during Separation Arc and he realizes the bar people aren't his friends. And he says "I'm not good at this" and leaves. I don't have much to expand here but just know that when I think of how he experiences interpersonal relationships I think about this line. Because he's so good at a lot of things but Not This (Relationships overall. But also probably solving their problems in the moment).

not a fan of Dad or Uncle Reigen. To anyone really. Sorryyy. No hate to those who are though.

uhhhhhhh umm this has gotten so long. Sorry this is so unorganized i think i do better with more direct questions because i suck at staying on topic/being concise when i have free reign. There's so many aspects of his character that I didn't get to here that I also love. But its so hard to think of them all. I hope this gives you an idea though?

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 10

Hey it's that guy!

Dungeon Meshi says "Drink water".

The first half of this chapter shows us what an ordinary adventuring party would do to prepare for a trip through the dungeon. Specifically, the issue of food supply gets brought up. The half-foot brings up how one week's rations are heavy so that would mean longer treks are going to be more exhausting on account of them having to carry more supplies. They also might not have room for other goods because they have to make room for food. And there is the risk like in chapter 1 that they can just be lost.

For a moment, I thought bringing a wagon might help, but I don't think that would fit in a dungeon.

Is this what everyone thinks happened?

Last chapter, kobolds were mentioned and we were given an image of one. So we already have the info needed to figure that one dog party member is a kobold. Still, Chilchuck and Laios's speculations about who Senshi would trade with in a dungeon makes me think that having a kobold party member is unusual.

Their miscellaneous discussions about the dungeon is for us. Something about the dungeon has been changing lately. I can't comment on the dungeon layout changing, but maybe the monster thing is because of the red dragon roaming about or maybe it's because adventurers are overkilling the monster populations and other monsters are trying to move in on the emptier areas.

And then they get wiped by bugs. This kinda reminds me of that one party from chapter 3, the one that got wiped by plants. This instance isn't being played for comedy this time. We're following an ordinary party's experience through the dungeon and it ends with them getting killed. Laios's party doing so well is not normal.

Adventurers can turn into zombies, huh? So if the corpse retrievers don't find you, you'll just rise as a zombie? I don't know the full details about how resurrection works, but I'm getting the feeling that if you're left alone for long enough, the dungeon just takes your body and soul and turns them into spirits and zombies. Is the magician some sort of lich and the entire premise was just a trap to lure people in so it could harvest souls?

The box of treasure insects was on a zombie. So that was probably some poor adventurer who fell for their deceptions just like the last party did. Or maybe it was someone from before the golden kingdom was taken over by the magician. It's outfit had the poofy shoulder pads you'd see on a stereotypical noble's outfit.

Did Laios's sword react to the treasure insects specifically because they're treasure insects or because it realized there was danger that the others didn't notice? If it's the former, then there are implications. Like, maybe treasure insects prey on Living Armor or certain ones like the pearl centipede can parasitize a Living Armor colony and take it over.

I love the little detail that a few locks of Marcille's hair braid popped loose when she saw the pearl centipede.

And she realized exactly what was going to happen when Senshi started sorting them.

I've never eaten bugs before, but I'm willing to try. I bet crickets taste pretty good if you fry them. I don't think I'd like centipedes though.

Mimicry in nature is wild. There are so many different types. And mimicry of other species is particularly crazy. I went looking into what type of mimicry treasure insects might employ and I learned about emsleyan mimicry in the process. It's where a dangerous animal mimics a slightly less dangerous animal. The goal is that if an animal is deadly to the point any potential predator is likely to die in an encounter with it, the animal doesn't actually benefit from its warning signs because nothing will get the chance to survive and learn that its dangerous. So it mimics something that is not nearly as dangerous and benefits from potential predators learning to not mess with the less dangerous animal.

An example I found of emsleyan mimicry is coral snakes. They are some of the most toxic snakes in the world and there's another species called a king snake which uses the same color patterns. Originally, it was thought that King snakes mimicked coral snakes. But it turns out there's another species of snake called the false coral snake that also has the same color patterns but is not as deadly as the coral snake. So one hypothesis is the false coral snake had the color pattern first and coral and king snakes are both mimicking it.

Anyway, the mimicry type that seems most similar to what treasure insects are doing is called wicklerian or aggressive mimicry. Parasites using this method attempt to mimic something their target host would find appealing. Usually, the parasite would mimic prey, but in this case they're mimicking coins and jewelry.

The end of the chapter reveals that some of the items were actual coins and jewels so maybe treasure insects can actively change their appearance to mimic specific types of coins and jewelry.

The anatomy of most of the insects are easy to figure out with a little creative thought, but the ring one is way out there.

The tiara being a giant nest is pretty cool. Are the treasure insects all living communally with each other and build and guard the tiara together?

Jam? How does that work?

Look at Marcille being so brave.

Senshi was about to tell Chilchuck that the inedible pile was actual jewels, but Chilchuck threw them away before he got the chance.

Laios named his sword "Sword boy".

back