#that snatched silhouette oh my god

[nottsangel]

could we pleaseeee get more of the new girl au!

inspired by the new girl scene where they give cece the small towel :p

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

from the bathroom, you can hear the faint, distant chatter of the boys in the living room, drowned out by the sound of the water splashing onto the cold shower tiles. you let out a deep sigh, running your fingers over your scalp to rinse away all the excess shampoo while giving yourself a quick, soothing massage.

you feel deeply relaxed, tension gradually melting away, but that peace quickly evaporates when you turn off the shower and stick your hand outside the shower curtain to grab your towel— only to realise you forgot to bring one.

“FUCK!” you scream out in frustration, instantly pulled out of your relaxed state as water drips from your bare skin and drenched hair, pooling around your feet. the chatter from the living room instantly stops, followed by a loud, confused “WHAT?” from enzo.

“I— UH, FORGOT MY TOWEL!” you yell back, urgently hoping they will grab one for you right away.

you then hear the sounds of shuffling feet, giggles and hushed murmurs, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you lean against the wall, arms crossed and your bare foot impatiently tapping on the wet floor. the door then abruptly swings open, the wood slamming against the wall, making you flinch as you see three blurred silhouettes through the shower curtain.

“thank god. took you guys long enough.” you grumble, reaching your arm past the curtain and snatching the towel from whoever is holding it.

“you’re a very lucky girl to have such sweet roommates, vero?” theo teases, making you roll your eyes as you wrap the rough towel around your dripping body, but your eyes instantly widen when you glance down.

“what the fuck is this?!” you yell, aggressively jerking the curtain open, nearly ripping it from the rod. your narrowed eyes are glaring at the three boys standing in front of you, your hands gesturing at the tiny towel wrapped around your wet body.

“oh… fuck.” mattheo murmurs under his breath, his eyes hungrily glued to your exposed body, just like the other two boys. their mouths hang half-open, not even bothering to hide the fact that they’re staring, with smug, lopsided smirks plastered on their stupid faces. your tits are nearly spilling out of the thin fabric with your ass barely covered, your arms desperately holding the towel up.

“you idiots! this is a hand towel!” you grunt in frustration, the tiny towel barely covering your body, leaving very little to the imagination. all three boys can feel their pants uncomfortably tighten, their eyes darkening at the sight of you while licking their lips.

“yeaaahh… sorry about that. this is the best we could find, i promise!” mattheo shrugs, a cocky, mischievous grin spreading across his face, but his eyes still not leaving your drenched body as you step out of the shower and shoot him a disapproving look.

“well, i think it fits perfectly, if you ask me. tsk, always so ungrateful...” enzo adds, giving you a teasing wink. you stride towards him, your brows furrowed in irritation, his self-satisfied expression only infuriating you further.

“sorry, what was that?” you retort, your head slightly tilted and a mocking expression of faux confusion on your face, daring enzo to repeat himself.

“i said, i think it fits—” but before he can finish his sentence, you’re wringing your hair out all over him, causing him to flinch as you make a wet, dripping mess all over his clothes.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” enzo yells, his smug expression rapidly shifting into one of disbelief as he stumbles back while staring down at his soaked clothes. theo and mattheo quickly run off, knowing they’re next, their loud, giddy giggles echoing through the hallway.

you immediately sprint after them, your one hand tightly clutching the small towel to prevent it from sliding off, while your other hand holds your wet, dripping hair up, determined to not let them get away with this.

“NEXT TIME IT’LL BE A KNIFE I’M CHASING YOU WITH, YOU HEAR ME?!”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[wyvernest]

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart. 

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel. 

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar. 

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy." 

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. 

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken. 

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

[nhlclover]

ACTORS & SPOOKY NOISES | SETH JARVIS

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: you and seth visit a haunted house, exposing a fear of seths

warnings: descriptions of gross haunted house things, seth screaming like a lil baby

word count: 1.18k

notes: fic number six of cozytober! i love making these hockey players scaredy cats and kind of submissive

The air was crisp, biting at your skin as you stood in line at the front of the haunted house with Seth, both of you slightly wide-eyed looking up at the home. The structure was unsettling, its dark silhouette looming against the cloudy night sky. Barely lit by flickering, old-fashioned lanterns hanging on fraying strings, the house looked like it had been ripped straight out of a horror film. The wind howled through the trees, sending dry leaves tumbling across the gravel path, and the distant sound of faint screams from inside the house didn’t help your nerves. Seth’s hand tightened around yours, almost painfully so, as another gust of cold wind whipped by, rustling the trees.

“Okay, no big deal, right?” Seth said, his voice trembling as he tried, and failed, to sound casual. “It’s just… you know, some actors and spooky noises.” He flashed you a grin, but the fear behind his eyes was impossible to miss.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the smirk tugging at your lips. “Right, Seth. Totally not scared at all.”

“Me? Scared?” he scoffed, but it sounded a bit forced. “Nah, come on, it’s just a haunted house.” Despite his bravado, his grip on your hand betrayed him—he was holding on as if letting go meant something in there would snatch him away.

It had taken a solid week of persuasion to get Seth to agree to this. A date at the local pumpkin patch? Sure, he was all in. But the haunted house? That had been a battle. Ever since you found out about his crippling fear of jump scares, you couldn't resist poking fun at him. Now, standing in line outside the haunted house, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and guilt.

As the line shuffled forward, you finally reached the front. The door creaked open, revealing a dark, fog-filled corridor that seemed to stretch on endlessly. A chill ran down your spine, not just from the cold, but from the sheer ominous vibe of the place. The moment the entrance came into full view, Seth’s bravado vanished. He nudged you forward, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You go first,” he urged, practically pushing you through the doorway. “I’ll… I’ll watch your back. Y’know, in case someone sneaks up behind us.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling Seth through the door and down the hall. The sound of chains rattling echoed eerily down the hallway as you moved deeper inside. The fog clung to the floor, making it hard to see your feet, and the flickering lights overhead added to the disorienting effect. Shadows danced on the walls, distorted by the dim light, and your footsteps felt heavier with every step, the anticipation of something jumping out at you almost unbearable.

Behind you, Seth stuck close, his breaths growing quicker with each step. The soft scuffle of feet behind you turned into louder, ominous footsteps. You glanced back, just in time for a masked figure to leap out from behind a corner, swinging a fake axe with a dramatic yell. Both you and Seth screamed, the sound high-pitched and panicked, completely in sync. You had never heard Seth scream like that before — his voice cracking as he practically dove behind you, using your body as a human shield.

“Oh my God!” Seth yelped, hiding his face against your shoulder as if that would somehow protect him. “That thing scared the shit out of me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yeah, Seth, that’s kind of the point of a haunted house.”

Despite the shaky laugh you managed, your hands were clammy, your pulse quickening as you moved further down the dark corridor. Every corner you turned, every shadow you passed, you felt Seth’s death grip on your arm tighten. He jumped at every noise, every flicker of light, making sure you went first whenever the path split or a new door appeared.

“Nope, not happening,” Seth whispered when you reached a particularly ominous hallway, its entrance swallowed by complete darkness. “I’m not going down there. You go, I’ll… stay back here and, uh, keep an eye out.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. “You’re not leaving me alone to deal with whatever’s down there.”

The pitch-black hallway stretched ahead like the entrance to some horrible nightmare. Strange, disembodied whispers echoed from unseen corners, followed by eerie giggles that rose into bone-chilling shrieks. Before either of you could react, more grotesque figures jumped out, their faces painted with fake blood, and their clothes torn to shreds. Seth screamed again—his voice even higher this time—and clung to your arm like a lifeline, practically climbing onto your back to avoid the figures lunging toward you.

“Oh my God, Seth,” you gasped between fits of laughter and sheer terror. “You’re squeezing me to death!”

“I can’t help it!” he squeaked, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “Did you see that? It moved like a freaking zombie!”

You barely had time to respond before another figure—a pale, gaunt woman with blood-streaked hair—crawled out from a hidden panel in the floor. The way she dragged herself toward you, moaning like something out of your worst nightmares, sent a fresh wave of fear through your body. Seth’s scream was so loud it reverberated through the walls, and you couldn’t stop the nervous laughter bubbling up from your chest, even as you stumbled backward, pulling him along with you.

When you finally made it to the last stretch of the haunted house, Seth was practically glued to your back, trembling with every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. The door to the outside was just ahead, salvation within sight. As you burst through the exit, the cool night air hit your face, and you both stumbled into the open space, breathless and laughing.

Seth was still clutching your arm, his face pale and his eyes wide with residual terror. You doubled over, trying to catch your breath from both the running and the laughter.

“You okay there, tough guy?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “I think you broke the sound barrier back there with that last scream.”

Seth groaned, running a hand through his hair. “That was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I swear, that thing crawling out of the floor? Oof.”

“Yeah, I saw,” you laughed, nudging him again. “Mostly because you shoved me right in front of it.”

He chuckled sheepishly, finally releasing his grip on your arm. “I’ll admit, I might’ve been a little scared. Just a little.”

“A little?” you raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Seth, you made me go first every single time! I was your human shield.”

Seth laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, fine. You were braver than me. But seriously, next time? No haunted houses. Just pumpkin patches, plain and simple.”

You smiled, wrapping your arm around his as the two of you began walking back toward the main part of the pumpkin patch. “Deal. But I’m never letting you live this down.”

[ddymarie]

☀︎ Bakugo x reader

OPACAROPHILE

☀(n) A Person Who Loves The Sunsets

☀You had a rare weekend with katsuki and you both decided to spend it with a beach date

☀includes: kissing, rubbing, water, body worship, use of good girl, car sex (back shots) .

☀ a/n : I haven't uploaded in a while ik but I have so many fics in my drafts ready to made! Also some song suggestions are scattered throughout the fiction from my 'random' writing playlist! Speaking of music I haven't been able to get bad by wale outta my head

The sky was filled with orange reds and yellows. The setting sun adding a glow to your brown skin. Katsuki eyes looked as if they glowed from the way the sun had affected them, as he towered overed you, even sitting down.

"Katsu~ " he mocked holding your face in his hands "katsu~, let's go to the beach" he mimicked your voice.

Rolling your eyes lying back on the towel. Black bathing suit (design of your choice) highlighting your curves. Your pretty jewelry added a glow to you. You looked like a goddess.

Your Bluetooth playing partynextdoor. The smirk on your face was quickly wiped away when your boyfriend suddenly picked you up " katsuki! " you screamed giggling "ahh! " the loud splash you caused-caused katsuki to laugh.

" you son of-" swimming back to the surface looking around for your petty ass boyfriend-only to not find him anywhere in sight. Just then you were lifted up from underneath. Katsuki arose from the water with you on his shoulders "look not so bad right, pretty?" he teased looking up at you.

The water dripping off him had you hot and bothered. Fuck he looked like he tasted better then he smelled in this moment. And your favorite thing about him was his caramel scent. It drove you crazy when he sweated.

Retreating from your position on his shoulders. Standing in the water. It came just up to your neck. Paddling your hands on the water as you splashed him. Your small smile soon grew bigger once he began to splash you back " oh, pretty it's on! " he looked into your eye's with a glare hinted with a bit playfulness.

Hours passed before you both decided to call quits on the water fun.

The sky had shined bright even during the night. Stars causing nothing but your silhouettes to appear. Together you both looked like Greeks God's. Especially with your arms around his neck and his on your waist kissing away like you would loose each other to the deep, dark depths of the water. It was majestic.

The sound of your bracelets jingling as you allowed him to lift you up by your thighs. Escorting you outta of the water. Lips just now breaking apart. You both gasped catching breaths you hadn't realized you'd lost.

" you look beautiful in that bathing suit. Might have to buy you more " he said squeezing what he could of your plump ass before smacking it,french kissing you.

Lying you you both down on the singular orange towel. Orange and black the same color of his trunks. Your glasses that once sat on top of your head now falling on the the tip of your nose.

Removing them off your face and setting the black shades a side.

Bakugo began trailing his hands down your body. Lifting a leg of yours over his waist. Licking his lips as he dove in stealing another kiss from you

"Uh-uh" you said looking at the blonded lover in the eyes waving a finger in his face 'no' was what it symbolized " wait til we get home, play boy" you said pushing the muscular man from a top of you

Getting up, taking the blue tooth with you to the car. Katsuki sat there for a moment mesmerized by your jiggling ass before abruptly getting up snatching the towel and your shades up with him trailing behind you...

Laughing as you jumped into your shared foreign car. Katsuki pulling outta the now empty parking lot.

Driving on the empty road one hand on the steering wheel the other on your thigh. It was a small simple gesture of his until it started to trail up your thigh. The car slowed down... Pulling into yet another empty parking lot...it was 10:30 pm

Unbuckling his seat belt while leaning over the the arm rest grabbing your face and kissing you causing you to drop what ever treat you had in your hand. You two had been on the breezy road for about 27 minutes. The large shirt that pulled over your bathing suit. Was now being lifted. The shirt was off within seconds along with your top... And panties.

In this foreign car let it go

You went from kissing in the front seat to receiving back shots in the back of your truck.

" mm~ " you whimpered this man was knocking the air outta your lungs. Leaving you breathless "fuck" he growled throwing his head back. Hands gripping tightly on your waist which was sure to bruise later. Your hips collided. You throwing your ass back meeting his hard forward thrust. " ah-ah ahh~" you moaned as he pulled your hair, Leg up on the seat spanking your ass leaving a visible hand print on your brown skined ass. " fuck, pretty, just like that " he said removing his hand off your ass and onto your neck.

You cried out begging.. Pleading " please~" what were you begging for? Shit you ain't even know. His thrust slowed as he tilted your head down putting you in a face down ass up position and he lurched forward " love this body, baby" he worshipped hands roaming with no destination in sight. The feel of your skin. Your curves. Had this man on his knees everytime he seen em. Whether at home or on the feild. As his thrusts slowed they got deeper. He drew his hips back further it was torture to you. But it felt "soo good~". The pleasure he was giving to you made you arch your back more. You stopped throwing your hips back letting him do his thing. And from there it was nothing but praise~

"Mm~" you whined at his words " ass so soft. " he said gripping your soft ass spreading your cheeks. Slipping a thumb in your butt "ahhh, katsu~" "yea thats right say my name, good girl~"

Take the time to find you out

You love when a young n! go down on it

"Say it baby" he groaned.

" in this foreign car, let it go" he whispered in your ear.

That was all you needed to hear before you let go. " I'M COMING,KATSUKI!" you moaned his name Cumming all over the seats. You both sat there in silence for a couple of moments.

"Guess someone couldn't wait til we got home" you said looking back with a smirk before passing out.

You woke up to the car pulling into your shared pent house parking lot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

[angelbitezzz]

Now where in the hell did she go?

Prev - Next - First

(more pictures and writing under the cut)

God damn it. Sans had one job—keep an eye on the human, make sure she rested, keep her out of trouble. Now, as he stared dumbfoundedly down at the obviously empty couch on the first floor, he only had one real thought come floating through his fatigued skull.

"i'm gonna kill that girl."

He threw his soiled jacket somewhere in the corner of his room and snatched his hoodie from where it was hung next to his door, slipping it on as he shoved socked feet into slippers, descending the stairs so quickly he may as well have teleported. Far be it from him to ever move that fast on purpose—apparently, that was another thing she was able to do to him without him knowing, damn it all. Frustration simmered at the back of his throat, but even he knew that the feeling was covering a darker, more icy fear that clutched at the inside of his ribcage and froze into a heavy thing somewhere next to his SOUL. She needed to rest. She needed to stay out of sight for now until they figured things out with her magic. She needed to stay safe, fuck, and even just thinking that sent an uncomfortable rattle up along his spine. He didn't bother opening the front door, he jolted through space and found himself outside a few feet away.

"think, sans, think. where would she—"

His pupils settled on the ground. Blue grass and sand mixed together to create an uneven path leading through the village proper. The isles were on the night cycle now—which, didn't look different, but having something of a curfew helped with the constant feeling of nighttime—so nobody was around save for some real night owl types. Sans had excellent night vision, picking out the disturbed sand leading through the village and far to the left, back towards the entrance. He took a step and jittered to the far end, focused on the footprints leading up, until the grass and sand gave away to stone, ascending on a gentle incline that only grew steeper until it led to a cliff overlooking a majority of the Starlight Isles and surrounding territories.

His steps slowed as a silhouette came into view near the edge, an ambient warm breeze tugging the cape pulled around their shoulders. Briefly, he thought he'd stumbled across Count Koffin K doing something...but when they raised their head to gaze upward, he realized he'd found his target.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and resisted the urge to stomp his way up the cliff to her side.

"and what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Angel startled a little, jerking around halfway and flinching. Burning purple eyes met his own, wide and alarmed.

For a second, he felt like they fit right in with the "stars" in their sky.

"Oh! Oh. Sans. Hey."

"answer the question, human."

"Right. Um." Her gaze trailed away, back over the edge of the cliff. "Well don't worry, I didn't fuck off to, uh...y'know. Yeah. Ye—yeah. I'm just, just..."

He didn't speak, recognizing by the tone of her voice that she was struggling to get her thoughts out. She got scrambled like that sometimes—it reminded him of Alphys...when she wasn't putting on a whole fake persona, anyways.

"...Processing. Mhm."

"your near death experience or your magic?"

"Can it be both?"

He inclined his head and slowly stepped forward, moving to stand beside her. There was a very long pause before he spoke.

"well, uh, anyways. asgore said you gotta rest. my brother'll have a conniption if he finds out you're out here."

"Right. Sorry. I just...really needed to get some air. Please."

Frustration boiled behind his teeth, but he sucked back the smoke and smiled anyways. When she glanced at him, whatever she saw in his expression made her grimace and look away again.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not dying."

"you nearly did." The lights in his eyesockets extinguished, smile thinning until it was nearly a frown. "like, 6 hours ago. unless you forgot. i mean...wouldn't really be surprised, ya did hit your head pretty hard during your little stunt."

"God, Sans, can you just—not? For once?"

"i dunno what you mean."

She whirled on him, a desperate sort of anger flashing onto her features.

"You know exactly what I mean! Don't kick me while I'm down. I—"

"i'm trying to get you back in bed before anyone sees you, but hey, if you wanna keep acting like a babybones, be my guest."

"I'm NOT—" Angel cut herself off and shut her eyes, drawing Sans's cape around her shoulders tighter and covering her face with a hand. "Not...fuck. Fuck. Sans. I–I don't need you to act like my parent. Be all weird and protective over your brother, but don't...let's not pretend. Don't do the same with me cuz you think you have to. It hurts."

He didn't know what to say, for once. There was a quiet swallowing sound while he searched for something, anything to respond to that. Seconds dragged into minutes before she spoke again.

"...I'm gonna die down here."

"hey, you just said you're not—"

"No, Sans." She interrupted, insistent, voice pitching high and broken. "I'm gonna die down here. This place, it's driving me fucking mental. I don't. I don't know what to do."

Her hand slipped away again, a frightened, tight little grin stretching across her face as she looked at him. It looked like it hurt.

"The sun. I miss the sun. I feel like I've been stuck in a damn time loop where it's always night time and I do the same damn shit every day! Yesterday was the first time in weeks that I felt like something new happened and I completely fucked it. I've been having so much fun here that I forgot that—I forgot. I forgot!" She began to laugh, gesturing to her body frantically, trying to get a point across. "I forgot!"

Sans listened to her speak with an increasing feeling of worry, frustration melting into concern the longer she went on.

"kid—" He started, but she cut him off again, her laughter ceasing as quickly as it had come, turning her body away.

"Don't. Please don't. I don't think I could stand if it you started with the pity train."

"wasn't the pity train, was more like the empathy express."

His weak attempt at humor did bring a smaller, more genuine twitch of her mouth than whatever fake grin she'd been trying to keep up. How had she ever managed to fool him before? In hindsight, it was obvious now, all the times she'd been pretending at joy.

Ah, but then, she was the perseverant kind of person. Maybe she was just...used to that.

He didn't want to know why.

"i was just gonna say...you're not alone."

He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder, struggling to find the words. Sun sickness had been a lot more prevalent back during the aftermath of the war—he had no experience dealing with it directly.

"it ain't so bad. you're still here. people down here like you."

"...Do you even like me?"

"huh?"

Angel turned her head just a little, enough to catch his gaze with her own. She looked exhausted, the warm breeze threatening to spill the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I pay attention, you know. You—god, Sans, you only tolerate me cuz I'm friends with Papyrus, right? Sometimes I feel like we get along great, and then something happens and you just...act off. Am I that much of a burden to you? Should I just leave?"

His thoughts flashed back to the day before. The panic that had thrummed through his body at the mere thought of losing her, that same panic that had brought him out here looking for her in the first place.

"i..." He hesitated. "...think it's been a long day, angel. you're tired and homesick and still coming down from the adrenaline high from earlier. you'll feel better in the morning."

Angel just gazed at him for a long, long moment. Those purple eyes searching for something in his expression before they went lax, her face flattening.

"...You're right. You're right. I'm just..." A lump in her throat. The tears began streaking down her face, dripping off her chin. "...so tired."

"hey." His voice was soft now, softer than she'd heard it before. "...i get the feeling, bud."

Her shoulders shaking, she raised a hand and slipped it over the one he had on her shoulder just for some measure of comfort, head ducking and turning away as she quietly hiccuped. He let her hold him there, warm fingers on chilled bones as she anchored herself again in the present.

It was a good long while before she let him take her home.

...

"Hey, Sans...?"

"mhm?"

"I forgot my glasses. You're gonna have to lead me back."

[scalproie]

ALRIGHT

S1:E1

oh thats right. The Rock

[VEHICONS SHOW UP] MY GUYSSS MY LITTLE GUYSSS THE COOLEST LOOKING MINIONS EVERRR MY VERY FIRST TF OCS‼️‼️‼️

Optimus❤️🛞💙

I cant say witty shit here its just so nice to hear Peter Cullen

Gonna enjoy my vehicons being competent since I know its not gonna last but teehee

The animation is not as good as I remember but it IS the first episode and I havent watched prime in years so that was to be expected, not a critic just and observation

You...

I FORGOT HOW QUICKLY HE KILLED HIM LMAO GIVE IT UP FOR STARSCREAM ONE (1) W

ok yeah the tfp theme still hits.

Jesus I may have a knee jerk reaction to it bc Ive Seen Things™️ for years but god. tfp Optimus IS so pretty. They didnt HAVE to give him such a snatched waist

SOUNDWAVEEE💙💙💙 (OR IN THIS CASE💜💜💜 THANK YOU FOR CHANGING MY LIFE KING)

"Only we five autobots remain on this Earth" GOD DAMMIT AND I CARE ABOUT MAYBE ONLY ONE OF THEM

"Helping humankind will only result in more tragedy."/"Your opinion is noted." Optimus ilu

Pleasantly surprised that Jack's introduction is not as skincrawling to me as i expected it to be

Getting giddy seeing just vehicons in their alt modes, at least I have them to look forward to

AND THEY TALK💜

I forgot how much I disliked the Jasper breaking bad filter

"Friend of yours?"/"Family." lmao okay

Okay I like Raf's introduction more. my kid.

Ok why is the humans VAs' mic quality so weird, is this a yt thing or did they originally sounded like that

IM NEVER GONNA FORGET THE TIME WHERE VEHICONS WERE SO COOL ONCE THIS IS OVERRR

Ok I forgot how quickly they just like. Incorporated the humans into the group

Miko.

YOU ARE ALREADY ON THIN ICE MISSY

Optimus... 👉👈

HES SO FUCKING TALL

Only centuries of war? Baby numbers here tfp

FIRST LOOK AT MEGS🩶🩶🩶

And his silhouette looks so silly

LMAO THATS HOW THEY INTRODUCED HIM?????????

FUCKING LOSER IN SPACE ALL ALONE

And his eyes are already looking in opposite direction oooh I did miss this🩶

Ok end of episode. Pacing is so fast but at least they dont wait time, I guess they only have 40min to introduce the setting

[m3rricat]

The beginning of the upcoming chapter of my wyllstarion fic for wip wednesday!

“Is that a joke?” Astarion snapped, head craned back to glare up at Mizora’s shadowy face.

The dark silhouette wings grew rapidly on the ceiling, as if Mizora was descending to land on them both. Wyll fought the instinct to shrink back.

“Yes, and it was funny,” she said at last. “That is, if you have any clue what’s down here. And shouldn’t you, spawn? You’ve been crawling around in the dark for centuries.”

“Barely two centuries. And never deeper than this. I’m not eager to see what horrors are down in the pits around here.”

“Oh, but aren’t you one of those horrors, my little vampire?”

Astarion flinched back like a kicked dog. Wyll had had enough. “Mizora, get to the damn point. I thought we were in a hurry.”

Mizora tittered. “One needs to stop and smell the roses now and then, pup. Your friend’s pain is… exquisite. But fine. When I say murder, I mean the ‘essence of murder,’ forged into a weapon.”

The phrase jarred Wyll’s memory. Sent him back years to when he was listening to the old stories: not the ones in his schoolbooks, but the snatches of sordid rumor he caught on the air every time someone in the neighborhood went missing. As he got older he ignored them; he knew in his wisdom that people fell off the face of the earth for boring, banal reasons. But when he was younger, he and his friends hung on every gruesome word. Monsters, cannibals, cults. Gods. They had felt so real to his young mind, creeping just under the crust separating the city above from the grasping horrors below.

“Mizora,” Wyll began slowly. “There were always stories about murder worship under the city. Baldur’s Gate, the city of blood. Are you trying to say that—?”

“Bhaal,” Astarion spat. “One of those things, those melty-face things said the name. But there’s still no reason to think that was anything but raving. There’s no way there’s some murder god’s relic still lying around. At least not with any power left in it.”

“A week ago you would have said there was no such things as devils here anymore,” Mizora retorted. “Yet here we are. Magic is scarce, but it lingers in certain places. Down here, for instance. Where so much blood has been spilled it will soak the soil til the end of time. Have some faith, my dears."

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Nineteen (Part 2)

After we complete both films, we decide to watch something else. A non psychological thriller that perhaps, we won’t have to pretend to understand the plot this time.  

“Let’s not get too confident about our intelligence.” Jen says as she polishes off her fifth beer, and we agree to find something light and fluffy for film three. We’ve finished all of the crisps by the end of the first film, and by the end of the second we’ve had almost all of the beers too, but it’s impossible not to want another Corona when your mouth is so salty yet you’re unable to stop grabbing for the snack bowl. 

It’s been a long time since I was drunk around Jude and Jen, since the music festival, the place where I think we all did and said things that we regret, but it’s different now. We’re all two years older, and the experience of being drunk with them is more fun than it is anxiety inducing. Jen becomes a louder version of herself, like Jen with an exclamation point, making comments at everything that happens on screen and doing this hilarious snort laugh that I’ve never heard her do before. Jude becomes a bit undone the more he drinks, a looseness coming over all of him as he laughs along with her with his arm and head lolling over her lap. Still, despite this I notice that he’s careful not to direct any physical attention towards me and keeps his hands very chastely to himself as if trying to deliberately disprove Jen’s claims about how he’s liable to put them on me. At one point we accidentally touch feet and he switches positions on the floor so that there is a full metre between us.

After several minutes of aimlessly and tipsily messing around, we decide to watch something from Jen’s housemates DVD collection, Bridesmaids, a film none of us have seen yet, but have all heard it’s funny so it seems like the perfect remedy for our post-David-Lynch-film anxiety. At least, we agree, we’ll probably be able to understand what’s going on without googling it. 

Jude resorts to picking the smallest, most broken up crumbs from the bottom of the crisp bowl to eat as the opening credits roll, and Jen quickly snatches it from him. “I’ll get you more food if you want more food.” She giggles. “You’d swear you were being starved, Hang on.” And she leaves to go and fetch him something else from the kitchen cupboard. I snuggle back into the sofa and hold a cushion, feeling the same lovely, warm feeling I’ve come to enjoy so much from drinking. I can only see the silhouette of Jude’s head contrasted against the bright television screen, his neat little haircut, and for some reason I think it might be funny to jab my toe into the back of his neck in time with the drum beats of the Universal Pictures theme as it plays on screen. Letting my drunk, mischievous little demons win. 

“Oi.” He protests, and reaches out to grab my ankle. 

“Let go!” I cackle, trying to twist out of his grip but he’s a boy. He’s strong. He doesn’t let me go, and instead holds me steady so he can tickle the sole of my foot. I immediately start shrieking and writhing about trying to kick myself free. “Oh my god, stop!” I beg. “My feet are so ticklish.”

“This is what you get for poking your toes into my neck.”

“Jude!” With my free foot I shove his shoulder, but then he grabs that one too, and I’m left hopelessly giggling on the sofa when Jen returns with a bag of jellies. 

She smirks at us as she tosses them at his chest, and he has to release my ankles to catch them. “Are you enjoying the movie so far, lads?”

He rips open the bag and shushes her sharply. “Please, Jen, we’re trying to watch.” She plonks down on the sofa as the movie opens on a black screen, heavy breathing follows as we are thrown into a scene with Kristen Wiig and John Hamm in the throes of passion. 

“Ah Jesus.” Jen comments. “So classic, another one of these awful scenes.”

Jude offers me a jelly over his shoulder and I take one. A little red and yellow ring. 

“Another one?” I query.

“Yeah sure we were just talking about this recently, me and Jude. The way Hollywood does sex scenes is always awful. It’s like,” She gestures to the screen. “It never looks normal, it’s always just played up for comedic effect, like, do you know what I mean?”

“Kinda, yeah.” I say. “But I never really thought about it.”

“It’s alright to show egregious violence on film but it’s not okay to show ordinary sex, like they think it’d be too awkward if they made it look enjoyable.”

“This is a comedy film though, no?”

“Yeah but I mean in general. It pisses me off.”

“Hm. I suppose.” I bite my jelly ring in half as John Hamm does a ridiculous cross eyed face on the bed. “Like, they always make it seem like those women are having the time of their lives. She can’t be enjoying that.”

“No. I agree. Not with those moves.”

I laugh, feeling pleased to be genuinely qualified to participate in a conversation like this now that I’m miraculously not a virgin anymore. I attempt to say something a little bolder. “Right! Because like, it’s not that good, like it’s always a bit shit, they try to make it seem good on TV but it’s just not true.”

“Maybe, I dunno, I honestly wouldn’t know what it’s like for straight girls.” 

“Not as good as everyone wants you to think it is.”

“Isn’t the whole thing about it that it’s meant to be nice?”

I shrug. “It’s fine.” 

A laugh bursts out of her “Alright Evie.” She says, giving me a little incredulous side eye at the same time. “Who is it that’s been giving you a shite time?” 

I feel my face flush, but try to laugh off my embarrassment. “No! It’s like, it’s okay, but it’s not amazing is it? The literal sex is the part you just kind of… do it… do it for them, right?”

“Hmm… I don’t know if I’m exactly qualified to answer that.” She rakes her fingers into the top of Jude’s hair and gently pulls his head back so he’s looking up at her. “Judey, what do you think?”

“What do I think?” He repeats, his Adam’s apple visible under the taut skin of his throat. 

“Do you think girls are supposed to like sex?”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never done it”

I feel as though I have to think extra hard to block any images from my mind at that moment that would allow me to think of him in ways that I’m certainly not supposed to. The existence of thoughts like these irritate me, like they just come on me without me meaning to, without me wanting them. I should be over this by now and yet… 

 Jen leans her head on her hand and regards me with a sly smile. “So who was it?”

“Who was who?”

“The unfortunate fella who’s awful in bed. Who was he?”

“Jen, so nosy.” Scolds Jude. 

“Oh come on, we’re all friends here.” She protests. “It wasn’t that Slim Shady looking fecker from your birthday party was it?” She’s grinning because she’s sure it isn’t, because to her the idea of me sleeping with someone like Dean is hilarious, something that would be a bit embarrassing for me to do, and once again I feel looked down upon and judged for my choices.  

“So?” I say defensively. 

“Wait.” She says, touching Jude’s shoulder. “Was this the same guy who ripped that empty baggie of coke open in front of you and licked out the residue on the inside?” 

“I…” He hesitates, eyes flashing briefly to mine. “I didn’t tell her that part.”

Jen covers her mouth. “Oh no!”

“It’s okay.” I say neutrally. “I don’t mind that, it’s fine.”

“Oh god, sorry.” She says, reaching out to touch my arm. “You’re not a thing though, right? Like surely it was just a kind of a fling thing, or?”

I sigh and glance away. 

“Ah you’re not going out with him.” She insists. “Hardly, with Aldi Eminem.”

I catch a smile cracking through on Jude’s face then, and his head drops down as he tries to disguise his laugh, and that’s it. I’ve had enough of being laughed at, no,  mocked by these two. I announce I’m going to the toilet and get up from the couch to walk away. 

“Oh, wait, Evie! I’m so sorry!” Jen calls after me, but I don’t look back. “Oh, it’s okay, Jen, don’t worry about it.”

Then once I’m in the bathroom I stare at my reflection, my shoulders heaving with each breath, my hot hands clinging to the sides of the porcelain sink so tightly that I know my knuckles must be white. Not only am I angry, I’m also fairly drunk. Not really a recipe for success. I try to take deep, meditative breaths but my furious thoughts keep on erupting through. How dare they. I think. They don’t even know him like I do. How can they just sit there and laugh at him to my face like I’m stupid for liking him. Do they think I’m stupid? Are the things I do just a big joke to them? 

It’s several minutes before I calm down a little bit, but still, the thing that rings most certain to me is that I no longer want to be here. I think about getting my bag and leaving, hoping maybe the long walk home will clear my head a bit. I can’t imagine anything worse than sleeping here, and then I open the door, and Jude is standing there, and I know there’s about to be a catastrophe. 

“Evie.” He says. “Are you alright? I’m sorry.”

I close the door behind me and step out into the kitchen with him, aware that Jen is still sitting in the other room so I will have to speak quietly. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not like I was laughing at you, I’d never, it’s just that thing she said took me off guard.”

“It’s okay, I get it, like, it’s really funny that I’m seeing Dean, right?” 

He sighs. “No, it’s not funny…”

“But what?” I prompt, because he looks like he’s struggling with whatever he really wants to say about it. 

“I’m just surprised by it.” He blurts out. “Why that guy?”

“Why him?”

“Yeah.”

“Why anybody? Why does it matter to you?”

His eyes slide over towards Jen on the couch, the dialogue in Bridesmaids louder than the volume at which we’re speaking to each other, but still, he’s hesitant to say another word. He reaches for the handle of Jen’s bedroom door and opens it. “Can we just talk about this in here for a minute?”

I shrug. “Yeah, whatever.” And I step inside the room ahead of him and flip on the light. The rain is hammering against the window now as the skies have split open and unleashed something like an apocalyptic rainstorm. Sheets of water are sloshing down the glass, each wet streak glowing with the city lights outside. 

Standing across from him with my arms crossed, I repeat my question to him as he shuts the door. “So? Why does it matter to you?”

He grimaces. “Isn’t he a bit of a weirdo?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t know him.”

“You’re right, but I met him, and he freaked me the fuck out. There was absolutely nothing behind his eyes.”

“He was high, Jude, what do you expect?”

“It wasn’t only that though, he just gave me the creeps. His vibe was so off. Didn’t you ever feel it?”

“No.”

“Don’t be angry with me, I’m just-”

“What is it with you?” I demand. “Why do you get so involved in my life in this way?”

He pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I just want you to tell me why you care so much about who I go to bed with, or who I even choose to date, as if it’s any of your business, or actually, as if it even affects your life one tiny little bit.”

“It-”

“Actually, you’re being exactly the same way about Dean as you were about Liam.”

He blinks. “Liam?”

“Yes! For some weird reason you hated that I liked Liam. You were so horrible about him right from the start, like when you told me that stupid story about giving him fake weed, and made me feel embarrassed about fancying him, and the way you always talked about him like he was a total loser. Like, for what? What was the purpose of that? Just to poke your fingers around in someone else’s happiness and ruin it for fun?”

He looks incredulous. “Happiness? Come on, you didn’t fancy Liam.”

“I did!”

“You did not.” He insists, eyes wide. “He made you physically cringe! It was so obvious. Every time you were together and he put his hands on you you made this face like you’d touched wet food in the bottom of the sink. You were embarrassed to be around him long before I even told you that story.”

“I wasn’t, you got in the way! And now you’re trying to do the same thing with me and Dean. You can’t just back off and let me do what I want to do. And for what reason? It’s like, it’s not even like you have a clear motive. To me it just seems like you really like putting other guys down so that you come out looking better than them every time.”

“Fine, I was mean to Liam, and I regret that. We were fifteen when we gave him the fake joint, we were stupid children, but I’ve grown up since then. I never consciously drove a rift between you two, I don’t know, maybe he pissed me off a bit. Maybe I was jealous of him, but honestly I can’t really remember what I was thinking about that summer, I was a mess. But you didn’t fancy him, I’ll die on this hill.”

“You don’t know what I was thinking. He’s a nice person and I hurt him because of you.”

“Evie, Liam is fine. No doubt he hardly even remembers this. If it was because of me then it was because you let me ruin it. Subconsciously you wanted me to.”

I scoff. “Hardly. As if you were around us enough times to read all of that from us anyway.”

“Anyone can tell when a girl isn’t feeling it. I bet he knew it too.”

I hesitate. Liam did know. It was the whole reason for his frustration at me. 

“Look, this isn’t about Liam. I don’t want to talk about him.” He says, and takes a deep breath. “But Dean…”

I stare at him warningly. “Dean is none of your business.”

“No… I know, I just can’t explain the feeling I get around him, and the feeling I get from you. Something about it feels bad.”

“So you’re trying to ruin it based on, what, a vibe?”

“I am not trying to ruin it.”

“I don’t understand why you keep insisting on making things so hard for me. Let me date a bloody boy, who cares? Your life will be so unbelievably unaffected by this, just go back to Berlin and live your life and stop thinking so hard about mine.”

“I don’t want to stop thinking about yours, I care about you.”

I stand there staring at him, hands dropping to my sides and clenching into fists. My inbreath quivers with fury. “I am still so angry with you.” I say quietly. 

His face collapses in on itself a little bit, his inner eyebrows shooting up to create this desperately sad expression. “Why?” 

I say nothing, he already knows why. 

“If all this is about how I lost touch with you when I moved-”

“You didn’t even try to keep up with me. You gave me half hearted emails for like, three months, and even then your responses were so sporadic that you might as well have not bothered. So much for all that stuff you said to me at the festival about how you wanted to keep on knowing me, when actually, you didn’t care at all.”

“Of course I cared. I’m here now, I still care.”

“No, you know, I think you were messing with me the whole time. I think it was all about an ego boost for you, you wanted to mess around with my feelings, see what would happen if you flirted enough with the most naïve girl on the beach, break up her summer fling and see if you could get her to like you, just to prove that you could.”

“What?”

“And you’re still trying to do it, even now that you live in a different country you can’t surrender any control over my choices. You still see me that way, don’t you? Do you think it’s funny or something? Nobody else is allowed to have me, but you don’t want me either. You just want someone fawning after you and following you around and telling you how great you are. If you cared about me you’d have been here the whole time but you weren’t. You couldn’t even check in on me once, and I’m still angry about it. You just ran away and left me here on my own.” My words, and the ferocity of them make him flinch. For the first time since we’ve started arguing I feel like I’ve maybe been too harsh, but I believe in the validity of what I’ve said.

“I showed up to that going away party because I thought you’d want to say goodbye to me.” I continue. “But actually, I had a horrible, awkward night where you barely spoke to me, and instead made googly eyes at your ex. Then you didn’t even wake me up to have that breakfast you promised me.”

“What was I meant to do?” He says, sounding defeated. “Walk into the room and shake you awake? I hated the idea of invading your privacy like that, and I thought maybe you just wanted to sleep on, like, I don’t know, maybe you didn’t want to say goodbye to me after all.”

“Of course I did, it’s the thing I wanted most, couldn’t you tell?”

“I wanted you there that night.” He says, dark eyes wounded. “I had a different idea of that party in my head, but I felt so detached when you got there and it just got worse as the night went on. I don’t remember what I was thinking. I wasn’t sure of the right way to process what I was feeling.” His hand comes to his hair and messes up the front. “And, by the way, I don’t really know what you mean about Michelle. We broke up for a good reason and-”

“The way you were looking at her-”

“Okay, but between Michelle and you there was no competition.”

There’s a long, heavy pause between us then, and I feel my palms prickle, heart spurring in my chest. I draw my words out slowly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it would have been you, every time. A million times.”

And I watch him. There’s something vulnerable and unguarded about him in that moment, his eyes darting anxiously across my face, his lips parted as though he has more to tell me, but then in an instant that look is gone, replaced by a line between his eyebrows. “It’s not a good idea to have this conversation.” He says decisively. “This old stuff, it’s not really worth revisiting.”

“Yeah, let’s not bother.” I say. “It’s not like it’s important.”

“Right.”

I swallow hard. “So with Dean, you don’t like that I’m with him because you think he’s a bad influence.”

He nods. 

“Not because of any other reason.”

“I…” He trails off. 

“Not because you want to sabotage another one of my romantic relationships out of jealousy.”

“Evie, it’s not… I can’t. I’m in love with somebody else, Astrid means the world to me, and it’s not fair of me to delve back into all that messy, teenage stuff with you. I don’t want to say anything else to you that I feel I can’t be honest with her about.”

“Right.”

“We’re friends, I don’t want to jeopardise that. I don’t want to make it complicated.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[butchkaramazov]

A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The same day. 15:01.

I felt Paro long before I saw her.

The way the leaves rustled and nodded towards the sky, the way the red seemed to clear away. 

Next, I heard her.

Firm, sure footsteps resounded on the pavement. I imagined her walking towards me with her head held high, an earthen cup of steaming black tea in her hand.

And finally, I saw her.

She looked like the rich (sort of extra, if you ask me) businesswoman she was meant to be, exactly how I imagined her—except she hadn’t seen me yet.

The moment she saw me, her façade slipped and a wide grin spread over her face. Her free hand almost reached up to cover her teeth. Almost. 

She ran towards me, and all I remember is that I kept telling her not to drop the tea. The next thing I saw was her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her stupid face grinning at me. 

“We literally had a tickle fight an hour ago,” I said, pushing her off. Oh God, what was I going to do with this love?

“I know,” Paro said, still grinning. “Being away from you for an hour made me miserable.”

“Hey! I’m supposed to be the poet here!”

Paro swatted me on the arm before downing her tea in one go. “Shut up and give me the ice cream.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“No.”

“Fine. Just because I’m nice.” I fished out the plastic bag, the faint silhouette of a two-in-one cup and an orange packet showing.

Paro flashed me a victorious grin before dipping her hand into the bag, snatching the two-in-one cup for herself. What a Disney villain. 

“Won’t you have yours?” she asked me.

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Why?”

“Not hungry.”

Paro eyed me suspiciously for a moment before shrugging it off. Something told me that her brain was working at the speed of a million miles per hour. 

I turned to look at the sky. It was red. 

Red.

Red.

What a familiar word.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I whispered, mostly to myself.

Paro glanced at me. “Hm?”

“The sky,” I repeated. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Paro looked up, squinting at the midday sun. “Dude, how are you even looking at that? You’ll damage your eyes, Renu!”

Her words seemed to be coming from a faraway corridor. I looked down at my hands. Were they really my hands? Why was the sky red again? Things were getting better. Things were getting better, weren’t they?

Focus, Renu. Tickle fight. Paro. Paro. Paro.

As if on cue, Paro slipped her fingers through the gaps between mine. “Renu?” she asked softly.

I stifled a gasp and looked at her with a tight smile. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.

“Earth to Renu!” I said, flailing my arms, trying to coax a smile out of her tensed features. I forced out a laugh. “I’m okay, Paro. Chill.”

Paro stared at—or rather, through—me. “And how exactly am I supposed to chill?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe have more ice cream?”

Paro’s lips twitched. She allowed herself to giggle briefly before turning serious again. “How dare you make me laugh in the most inappropriate situations?”

I knew what she would, inevitably, be thinking of—the day of her uncle’s funeral, when we were thirteen. Our parents were having a sombre discussion and Maa had told me to go “upstairs”. Paro and I had maintained eye contact for exactly one second before I looked terribly, terribly confused and asked: “To uncle-ji?”

Now, I looked at Paro and her barely suppressed smile. “I facepalmed so hard my head hurt,” she chuckled. 

“Now that I think of it, I’m probably the reason for your migraines,” I said.

Paro grumbled. “Nice job changing the subject, twerp. One problem: I’m not letting you go today.”

I smiled at her feeble attempt at being grumpy. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We have plenty of time.”

And that was true. We’d have days and weeks and months and years to talk about ourselves. By then, perhaps, the tinted glasses would disappear from my eyes. Everything had been red for so long I thought I had marks from the ‘rims’ of my red-tinted glasses. 

We had time. We had time for everything to subside to normal again. I had time to hold her hand and swing it and squeeze it and paint the sky in her colours.

But for now, the sky was on fire and I was sixteen.

@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @damnn-dorothea @the-unhinged-fanwinggg @watchingblsnowandforever please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist<3

tw: sudden anxiety attack

[anotherapostate]

Aftermath (drabble, 500 words) a trip to the beach, hurt/comfort

After two hours of searching, Hecate finds Ada by some neglected patch of coastline, face to the storm and back to her beloved. She doesn’t call to her at first, but instead she looks with dread to the churning thunderheads above. Until finally:

“Ada!”

But her voice is snatched away by the wind and smashed upon the rocks. She tries it again, with greater force:

“Ada!”

Hecate thinks she sees her head flinch to the left, almost imperceptibly. Salt is lashing into Ada’s woolen socks, foaming at her heels. But she’s still rooted to the spot, stoic as the gray tides draw her deeper into the roiling darkness. The air sizzles with raw magic, like the way a damp log sizzles in the fire. Hecate’s sense of dread grows fiercer – she’s running towards her now, the sand almost causing her to fall.

“Ada, please! You need to get out of this storm!”

But she’s stopped midway into her pursuit by an invisible obstacle. Ada is finally turned to Hecate, hand raised into an arcane sigil, hair whipping across her tear-stained face.

“I told you to not follow me!” she says, waves crashing against her ankles, the ocean’s spray like an aura of power against her silhouette, “I told you to leave me alone!”

“But I couldn’t, not this time!“ Hecate shouts  helplessly, fists pounding against the wall that Ada has surrounded herself with. “Can’t you see, it’s not your fault?!”

“Isn’t it, Hecate?!” Ada booms across the desolate shoals, the skies shuddering in response. “I am her sister, it is my job to protect her,” she cries, “even from herself!”

The wind is gaining velocity, filling Hecate’s nose with the smell of brine and dying fish. “No, Ada! Agatha was a victim of her own choices! You cannot blame yourself for this!”

She feels the abjuration spell shudder underneath her fists. 

“Stop it, Hecate!”

“Agatha’s death was by her own design! Tell me, Ada, how could we have prevented it?!”

“Enough!”

“How could we have known?!”

Ada’s eyes flash with the energy of a thousand thunderbolts, as she roars:

“I should have known, Hecate!”

And Hecate can only watch as the sand bursts around Ada like a torpedo crashing against the weather-soaked earth, as she feels the crumbling facade of Ada’s ward come tumbling down.

And Ada is collapsed on the shore, bent over and heaving, fists full of sand that slip from her fingers like the unyielding passage of time.

This time Hecate runs and is not stopped. She clings to Ada until the salt clings to her skin and Ada’s sobs cease.

“I love her, oh gods have mercy. It wasn’t enough to keep her. Isn’t there some way, some dark spell, some blood magic to bring her back to me, Hecate? Gods above, I would do almost anything to bring my sister back.”

Hecate only wraps her arms tighter around Ada’s shivering body until both of their forms shimmer in the pale twilight and are no more.

[irislikesocs]

Ride or Die

Prologue

Three months ago in Istanbul, I found out my boyfriend was an assassin. It wasn’t shock I felt that night, as I climbed out of the hotel window with the duffel of drugs, guns, money or whatever strapped across my body, as I felt a tug on my ankle, anchoring me and throwing off my balance, as I turned back to see the hard, cold, calculating look on Harry’s face. Rather, it was like everything about him, pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know needed solving, finally clicked into place: his constant work trips, his far-too-nice flat, his skin, a filigreed spiderweb of scars.

How could I be so stupid? 

I would have much preferred him cheating on me like a normal boyfriend. Instead we had to deal with this bullshit. 

“Give back the bag, Lucy.”

No ‘what are you doing here?’, no look of surprise, no anger in his voice. So, he’d known all along. 

I saw red: how long had he been tailing me, did he know from the start, and oh God was any of it real, and did he enjoy breaking down, ever so patiently, brick-by-brick, every one of my walls and defences and exposing me as the broken, lovesick fool, and pretending he loved me anyway. Making me fall in love with him, the fucking bellend, the fucking lying arsehole.

“Fuck. You.”

I twisted out of his grip with a kick of my free leg and went straight into free-fall, pulling a muscle as I grasped the balcony railing of the room below. I sucked in the pain. Bracing myself against the wall, I jumped to the building opposite, over a multi-storey drop, just about gripping the flat ledge of it’s roof, and, struggling a bit with the added weight of the duffel, managed to heave myself over and onto my back. I could still see him in the window, a dark silhouette against yellow. For the first time, I found him menacing.

His form got smaller as he backed out of view. I sat up. He reappeared suddenly, stepping onto the windowsill and pushing off with such force that he vaulted over the alley below with ease. 

Oh shit. 

He stumbled a bit on the landing and I took my chance. I ran. He gave chase. We ran across the Turkish rooftops, slipping and sliding as tiles gave away beneath our feet. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

The mission was a simple snatch-and-grab, something I’d done countless times before, until Carver flagged that the duffel in question had been snatched-and-grabbed by the psychos from Joburg and I, suddenly afflicted with a case of dumb bitchitis, decided I could snatch-and-grab it right back. However painful it is to admit, I should have listened to Carver, who decided to cut his losses and enjoy a pleasant soak at the local hammam. 

I followed them to their hotel alone. I kept my distance, completely blind to the familiar swagger of Harry’s gait - idiot arsehole move - and waited for them to leave the room before scaling the fire escape. 

The stupid bag bounced against my stomach as I ran away, disrupting my rhythm, slowing me down. He was gaining on me and it pissed me off.

Hubris aside, I refused to die with my back to my murderer. I understood without a doubt that this man, who until a few moments ago I had believed loved me, once he caught me, would kill me. My bones screamed at such injustice, howling a message that surged in my veins, sliced through sinew and hacked it’s way out of my skin: my story will not end here.

I stopped. I turned to face him. Harry slowed to a halt a few feet away, watching as I hoisted the bag over my head to drop it at my feet. A cloud of dust rose between us in the early morning light. I adopted a defensive stance, mindful of the knife concealed in my sleeve. 

It was there on that rooftop, three months ago in Istanbul, that I left the love of my life for dead.

[candychameleon]

Soundwave

HELL YEAHHHH THE BOYYY. oh god picking a favorite version of him is honestly so hard, he genuinely steals the show in whatever he's in. cyberverse said "actually soundwave is the main character of transformers" and they were so right for that like i genuinely think my fave continuity for him is a three-way tie between g1, tfp, and earthspark g1 i love because...it's the og. he has such a soothing, satisfying voice to listen to, could legit listen to him read aloud the phone book and i'd be happy. i really wish other continuities went that heavy on the filters tbh because when g1 did it you got some truly unique voices out of it, and soundwave's is absolutely the most iconic one tfp purely because of uniqueness. there really never has been a TF character QUITE like TFP Soundwave, it's such a DIFFERENT and unique take on the character and on a TF in general; the flat long arms, the screen-face, the tentacles, him being essentially mute and communicating via playing back recordings (...ok bee also does that in some things but i'm sorry but its just better when soundwave does it). his overall silhouette and the fact that laserbeak is a part of his armor. tfp leans so much into the idea that Soundwave is an omnipresent, intimidating figure. I would be scared of TFP Soundwave and I genuinely can't say that about a lot of TF characters oddly enough and then Earthspark because...again, a very pleasing voice to listen to. you have no idea how often i watched the one episode he had in the first batch of episodes just to hear the like 3 lines he had LOL. there is just 🤏something about his delivery of "it already is." and "autobot scum" that really scratches my brain JUST right you know. also really good design, i am not immune to TFs with incredibly snatched waists uhh my favorite ship with him now...honestly that's hard, bc i don't really actively ship him with anyone? i guess either megasound or soundstar, megasound because of That Good Devotion stuff or soundstar bc i love them being petty assholes that hate each other but also can't resist each other LOL. soundwave/cosmos is also very cute but i don't think i've read the comic that they're in yet

[paragonrising]

Two green-and-gold-wrapped presents await her in her ship. One box is empty with a note written on the bottom that says 'If there is nothing here, it's escaped!' The other contains a round little crystal swirling with gaseous colour and sparkles that changes when it's sung to - something that has been left for her to discover. One more small gift has been left for Goose, a little gunky ball that shifts into amusing shapes, which might end up being more entertaining for Carol than the flerken.

When did it become Christmas?

She hadn’t noticed how much time passed. World after world, mission after mission… It was just constant fighting, every day of every week. Relly, her only indicator that time had moved at all, was when green and gold presents had appeared on her bed. Carol frowned gently as she sat down and picked up one of the boxes, carefully unwrapping it.

She tilted her head as she read the note inside.

‘If there is nothing here, it’s escaped!’

Oh.

Carol’s gaze lifted; she looked around suspiciously. Loki was joking, she knew he was joking. But… What if he wasn’t? What made it all worse, was she knew he was probably getting a kick out of her inkling of concern.

I would date an omnipotent trickster bound to a magic tree…

“You better be joking,” she spoke to the air, watching as Goose meandered into the room, a small gift in her mouth. “You get somethin’ too?”

Goose hopped up on the bed, dropping the box for Carol to open. When she did, she found a little ball that she tossed towards the flerken. When Goose batted it, it shifted into a star and tumbled onto the floor.

Carol blinked in surprise, Goose bounded off the bed and proceeded to bat the toy, each time making it become a different shape.

“Alright, that’s cool,” she admitted, smiling. Her attention then returned to the final gift. She opened the box carefully and plucked out the crystal ball. It was a pretty little thing, glimmering and filled with strange, swirling clouds of colour.

She admired it, turning it over in her hand.  

“I didn’t think we were doing gifts,” she said, not dwelling on the mystery of if he could hear her or not. “Seeing as you’re off being god at the moment.”

She kept fidgeting with the crystal, trying to ignore how lonely she felt. She reached over and placed it on the bedside table, then made her way back to the canteen. She began to hum the familiar tune of the Christmas song, ‘Santa Baby.’

Carol paused, mulling something over.

“Santa baby...” she murmured, half in tune as she figured something out.

She laughed, “if you ever tell anyone I sang this, I don’t care how important you are to the timelines, I’ll kill you.”

She was joking, mostly. She hurried over to the console. It didn’t take her long to find the instrumentals of the song she wanted. Carol pressed play, and the song began.

“Loki baby, just slip the tempad under the tree, for me,” she sang, smirking at the ridiculousness of it all. “Been an awful good girl.”

She twirled, “Loki baby, so hurry down to my timeline tonight.”

“Loki baby, maybe the tesseract too,” she held up her hand, as if she were holding the infinity stone. There were the faintest threads of magic, managing to form a faint silhouette of the cube. “Light blue.”

Her pale attempt at magic faded as she dropped her arm, “I’ll wait up for you dear.”

“Loki baby, so hurry down to my timeline tonight,” even if he wasn’t aware of how foolish she was being, at least it was fun and got her mind off of how empty the ship felt. She got a devious look on her face as she continued, flopping down into a chair dramatically.

“Think of all the fun I’ve missed,” she purred, “think of all the other gods I haven’t kissed~”

She snatched a datapad off the nearby table and pretended to read it, “next year I could be just as good, if you checked off my Christmas list–”     

Her performance was cut short when a message came in, the communications terminal pinging. Carol could see from where she was sitting it was an emergency, flagged as priority.

Her heart sank a little.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, hurrying to check out the dispatch, sparing a glance at Goose who sat nearby with a satisfied look in her eye, holding the shifting toy in her mouth.

“Don’t eat it,” Carol advised, earning an ear flick from the cat.

[clankryze511]

THE KNIGHT AND THE SLAYER: An Ultimate Spin Prequel

Black Knight’s Office

Unknown Location

1 Year After The Worldwide Curing

Black Knight: What’s the status on the intruder?

Black Pawn: We don’t know! This thing… it’s not a…

Gunfire, screams, and static came through the radio with the Pawn trying to explain whilst fighting for his life.

Black Knight pressed the button on her conference speaker.

Black Knight: It’s not a what? Damnit tell me!!

Black Pawn: IT’S NOT AN EVO!! Oh god. No don’t! Aaaauuuughhh!!!

The door was broken down as the Black Pawn she was talking to landed at the front of her desk, with an agape wound from his chest.  She saw the silhouette of the thing… no not a thing as she saw the insect like arms folded retracting into its back all the features of this creature faded and shifted into the silhouette of a human man. The person walked out of the shadows to reveal a man with a fine cut beard and mullet-like long hair with a suit she never seen before with a spider-like symbol engraving the chest area and some kind of touch pad on his left arm.

???: You should insist on better guards.

Black Knight pulled out her sword build and armor without her helmet.

Black Knight: And you should insist on better manners. Who are you?

???: Let’s just say I’m a certain individual who is taking an interest in you.

Black Knight: And what interests would that be?

???: We both want the same thing. To heal the world. To better it. To make it in our own image for a brighter and better tomorrow. 

Black Knight: How does your agenda align with ours? What does your plans have to do with the Consortium?

???: I wasn’t interested in the rest of your entourage. No you and only you knows what it’s like same as I to be brought down to lowest of levels. We both know what it’s like for others in power to turn their backs on us and what we would bring, to have the means to achieve it only to have it snatched away multiple times by meddlesome pests and traitors and fools! You still have a way. Many ways to take it back. I can give you the means to do so but to do it is to look elsewhere. Not out there in the wider world, or in space, but in other dimensions. Parallel Universes.

Black Knight: We already have the means to travel other dimensions. We have a second dimensional portal under construction. Why would we need you for it?

???: You’ve only scratched the surface. What I’m offering is something 10 times beyond your wildest dreams.

The man reaches into his pocket and reveals some type of flash stick.

???: May I?

Black Knight rolls her eyes.

Black Knight: Sure. By all means.

The man plugs in the drive into her computer showing things she has never seen or ever even dreamt of.

Black Knight: Incredible.

???: I’m offering more than just that. I will give you more powerful force that matches Providence  nearly almost in every way but without their flaws. More tech, more weaponry, everything you and your Consortium will ever need including to expand your research. But that’s not all.

The man pulls up on her computer a set of schematics and plans from his drive.

???: what we require to build this will be using my tech and yours and the brilliant minds to do so from both my universe and yours. For my part and to ensure Providence and our enemies don’t get in our way I know of a few individuals who could help us. Willingly or otherwise. 12 of these people you don’t know but there are 5 you do.

He opens file and brings up a list of people and names familiar and unfamiliar to her.

NORMAN OSBORN

OTTO OCTAVIUS

CURTIS CONNORS

PHINEAS MASON

ADRIAN TOOMES

MAC GARGAN

FRITZ VON MEYER

ABNER JENKINS

SERGEI KRAVENOFF

CLAYTON COLE

HERBERT LANDON

HUNTER CAIN

BRANDON MOSES

WEAVER

GABRIEL RYLANDER

ATHONY HADEN-SCOTT

HAROLD OSBORN

???: So, Black Knight…

He raises his hand out to offer her a handshake then her speaker chimed.

???: Do you accept my offer?

Black Pawn Captain (on radio): Black Knight, we’re in route to you now. Men, the intruder is to be shot on sight.

Black Knight pressed the button on the speaker.

Black Knight: Negative, Captain. Stand down. We will be attending a guest and a possible business partner.

She reaches out her right hand and both shake their hands in agreement.

Black Knight: It will be a pleasure doing business with you, Mr.

Alistair: Smythe. Dr. Alistair Smythe

[biglisbonnews]

Denzel Dion's NOiD Goes IRL This New York Fashion Week, online jokester Denzel Dion debuted a ready-to-wear presentation from his breakout fashion label, NOiD. Titled “COLLISION,” the collection spanned Dion’s personal history of experiencing fashion from an early age with Y2K staples like 7 For All Mankind, True Religion and Citizens of Humanity. “COLLISION” carries this same unapologetic attitude with a modern 2023 twist. From Vine to Instagram to TikTok to YouTube and an exclusive Snapchat show, Dion has undergone many career transformations thus far. There’s no corner of social media he hasn’t touched and been successful on — but with NOiD, Dion moves towards something more tactile. Rich, buttery brown leather passed down the Lower East Side's St. Mary’s Catholic Church runway during NYFW, signaling a new era for the influencer. Related | Rickey Thompson and Denzel Dion Were Born to Host Podcasts“COLLISION” brings to life Dion’s Ghanaian influence, adding red to the black colors featured in last season’s “Introspection” collection to recall Ghanaian funeral attire. Traditionally, red and black connote danger and grief, featured throughout the collection in silhouettes resembling the Asante Dansekra. But the “COLLISION” procession passed with a Roman Catholic austerity, emphasizing Dion’s upbringing in the church and the collision of his African and American heritage. This iteration of NOiD lays Dion’s own past to rest, speaking to the grief cycle Dion has experienced over past versions of himself and the expectations of others cast upon him. To Dion, fashion has always been a means of self-expression and an avenue for empowerment. NOiD’s exploration of identity reaches a head in “COLLISION,” shedding limitations in 32 body-conforming silhouettes that combine breathable shapes with skin-baring slits and snatched waists.To his old self, Dion says, “Stay true to yourself, keep on going and keep on pushing by doing you.” COLLISION was a breath of fresh air in a congested fashion season, and a welcome invitation to do “out with the old” and make way for the new.The full collection will be available Fall 2023 on noidofficial.com. Below, check out Dion's exclusive interview with PAPER about the collection.Talk us through the process of bringing COLLISION to life.The process of COLLISION has really been in the making for some time now. Some of the garments on the runway were sketched four years ago, before the launch of NOiD. At times I doodle on my iPad and save for the future. Being that I’m an independent brand and just getting my foot in, there are things I draw and don’t release to save for the very moment here, to showcase on the runway. I was able to build a story with the previous sketches and allow my imagination to run wild. Sketching is one thing, but another thing that helped a lot was just going to fabric stores and spending hours there, feeling the different textures and being able to envision a garment that speaks to me.What was it like bringing your garments onto the runway for the first time?Seeing my garments for the first time on the runway was honestly so surreal. At first when it’s just a sketch it’s just like, Oh okay, this is fab. I don’t see anything of it or think too much about it, but when it’s actually done it’s a whole new feeling. When the sample is being made it’s like, Oh my god, this is actually a garment. It just really hits different when it’s time to fit the clothes on a model. When I had a fitting at my studio, I was like, It’s actually happening, these are my clothes. The collection really came to life piece by piece like a puzzle. Being that this was my first time creating such a big collection, at first I didn’t know which way to go. I knew what I wanted to do but it was more so the color palette and making sure the collection was cohesive and telling a story.Tell me about the theme behind COLLISION — what worlds are colliding? What colors?The theme behind COLLISION is about merging my Ghanaian and American culture together. In this collection, we see a lot of trench coats and flare pants which is an ode to the '70s, then comes in the black and red which represents the grieving period I went through while making this collection, these are the traditional colors us Ghanaians wear to funerals. The black also represents freedom and the red represents independence.As someone who started as an influencer, do you feel like the fashion world has welcomed you?I feel like the fashion world still hasn’t welcomed me due to how I started online and, this being a very consequential space, it’s definitely going to take some time. Social media as a whole hasn’t welcomed me due to my first collection and the backlash it received online. Solely based on the fact that an influencer hasn’t ventured off into the fashion world as a designer yet, they’re used to quick merch. In due time everything will make sense, it’s just a lot to process for some being that it really hasn’t been done before to my knowledge. Tell me a bit about the history of NOiD. What does the label signify for you and how did you conceive it?NOiD is about freedom, being a non-conformist and living your life unapologetically. It’s more than just a clothing brand, it’s a lifestyle, honestly. For me, it signifies independence and stepping into your own power. We all have this sense of power, confidence and boldness within us, which is what I strive to showcase when wearing NOiD. The brand’s name was "Dion by Denzel," which was too close to "Dior." That was in 2018. Then, launching t-shirts and stuff in 2019, I knew I wanted to do so much more with my brand and that name wasn’t going to cut it. I came up with "NOiD" by flipping my whole name backward. There was something about NOiD that spoke to me. I started looking closer and was like, Wait NOiD but it spells "NO ID" when split apart. The vision I had was about making genderless clothing and it just clicked. The reason why it’s pronounced NOiD like void and not "NO ID" is solely based on me — singular name brands, it’s just classic and chic. The brand is spelled with a lowercase "I" to showcase that NOiD is NOiD and you can come as who you are and who you confidently stand to be, to wear whatever the hell you want. There are no limitations.Photo courtesy of BFA/ BreJohnsonRunway photos courtesy of Hatnim Lee https://www.papermag.com/denzel-dion-noid-2659571759.html

[shybunnie20]

Eight Years - Eddie Munson x Reader | One Shot

★My Masterlist

Summary: Your visit to Hawkins after moving away many years ago brings back good memories as well as the hurt you've endured from losing your best friend.

Author's Note: Angst, not a happy ending (for Eddie). AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡ My fluffy pieces don't do well in terms of traction so I went all-out angst with this one. ps. gender neutral!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Includes swearing, mentions of drunk behavior and alcohol, anxiety and overstimulation, trauma, food/eating(vaguely).

tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr

It feels a little odd being back in what used to be “home” after all these years.

Unsurprisingly, things don’t look all that different despite it having been just shy of a decade since you were here last. It feels foreign but familiar. Steve jokes that Hawkins is the gutter of the Midwest. That it’s a grate that traps the town folk in life’s plentiful misfortunes.

As a twelve year old you didn’t know how dumpy Hawkins was, but it's apparent now. As you drive past Forest Hills Trailer Park your stomach twists into knots. Seeing your old stomping grounds brings an unpleasant feeling of sentimentality.

Over the years you’ve become good friends with Harrington and Buckley, mostly through writing letters and postcards. On one of the road trips Steve took to visit you, he brought Robin along and you’ve been close ever since. Not to mention you’ve spent plenty of late nights giggling with Robin over the phone. They felt like long-distance sleepovers.

Steve stands behind the kitchen island, chopping vegetables and preparing dinner for the three of you. “Hey, bub. Mind running to rent some movies for tonight? You can take Ruby.” He hesitates, holding the car keys away when you reach for them. “Be careful, please? If she comes back with so much as a scratch, your ass is grass. And by that I mean you’ll be sleeping in the front yard.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes and snatch the keys from his clutch. “Your precious car will return untouched. Cross my heart.” You mark an X over your chest for dramatic effect.

Robin shouts from the living room as you head out the front door. “Can you get The Breakfast Club? Oh! And some Twizzlers? Thanks, doll!”

The Family Video store opened some years after you’d left. Despite Steve’s incredibly vague directions, you luckily find your way.

The lights in the window of the tobacco shop pulse brightly, blinding you a bit as you park against the curb in the mostly empty lot. You hop out of the car and stroll inside Family Video to grab the requested items, putting them on Steve’s tab.

When you’re about to open the car door to leave, you freeze in place. Your eyes catch a silhouette that’s outlined by the striking lights. The figure shuffles and stamps out a cigarette on the bricks of the building.

Their stance is as stiff as a board, a posture you’d recognize anywhere.

“Munson?”

Eddie whips around to see who called his name, his jaw falling open in disbelief. He hardly recognizes you considering that you’re a young adult now. “No way. Wha-are you shitting me?”

You practically run into his arms and he embraces you, your feet lifting off of the ground. “I’ll be damned!” He beams while letting you down but keeping you at arm's length. “Jesus-look at you! You’re so-” Developed, he thought.

You're smiling so wide that your cheeks ache. “Me? Oh my god, no. Look at you! Look at all this hair!” You chuckle, twirling one of his frizzy curls around your finger.

He typically doesn't let people touch his hair but he doesn’t mind at the moment. “What, expected the buzzed watermelon look?”

“Your head was always melon-sized, you’re right about that.” You chuckle. “It’s surprisingly soft.” You spoke too soon. He hisses at your finger catching a knot, so you gently brush through it with your fingers.

Eddie’s eyes study you, his heart thumping painfully. He’s overwhelmed by your presence and his palms start to sweat. The conversation progressed quickly, the two of you fondly recalling the old days. You hold onto his bicep while you laugh about pranking your neighbors with firecrackers and hanging out at the bakery you frequented together. You remember how he’d always get jelly on his face from the doughnuts.

Considering you lived a few trailers down, becoming friends was a no-brainer. He was never much of a daredevil but he loved getting a rush with you in the sleepy town, you felt no different. Shenanigans ensued and you even built a fort in the woods beside the trailer park. There was never a dull moment by your side, be it good or bad.

Most middle schoolers are self-conscious and constantly searching for validation, but not you. You never cared what other people thought of you. You were always true to yourself and unapologetically authentic. More importantly, you never judged Eddie. Your acceptance meant the world to him. From the start, you made it clear that he didn’t have to be anyone but himself around you.

He’s carried that outlook through the entirety of his school career. Always brushing off his peers’ jabs and remarks. He stood his ground and kept his friends close. Eventually, he instilled that very lesson in the freshman he took under his wings. He passed your wisdom onto them, that trying to be someone you’re not isn’t worth it in the long run. 

You tilt your head at him. “I’m surprised to see you! I thought you’d have gotten out of here ASAP after graduating.”

Eddie is ashamed and doesn’t want to admit to graduating only four months ago. He shrugs, “Uh-yeah. Gotta stick around for Wayne, y’know?” It’s the best lie he could think of on the spot.

His wristwatch beeps, signaling the new hour. You take his wrist into your hand and look at the time. “Oh, shit. I should get going.” You sigh, wanting to be back in a timely manner so as not to worry Steve and Robin.

After swinging the car door open and plopping into the driver’s seat, you yell out of the rolled-down window. “See you around!”

Eddie hollers. “Wait!” Before he could say anything else you’ve pulled away and driven out of the parking lot. His mind races with your last sentence hanging in the air. See you around.

Once you get back to Steve’s the three of you enjoy dinner while watching the movie. Initially, Steve scoffed at having to watch it again but he wasn’t going to get Robin revved up about its impactful societal commentary.

You’re giddy and cheerful the remainder of the evening until the movie got to the part where Andrew Clark says to John Bender, “If you disappeared forever it wouldn’t make any difference. You may as well not even exist…”

That’s when it dawns on you. It was on purpose.

It’s been four days since running into Eddie. Because you’re staying with Steve, you’re obligated to be at his Halloween party, given it’s being held at his house. You put on your best “I’m social and parties are delightful” attitude because you know Steve is looking forward to introducing you to the rest of his friends.

The afternoon was spent putting the finishing touches on the decorations. Steve is visibly eager to have his gaggle of pals together for a night of spooky festivities.

Robin arrives with Tupperware stacked in her arms, full of creepy goodies she made herself. Cookies that resemble witch fingers, candy corn-colored Rice Krispie treats, and caramel popcorn balls.

Music blares from the stereo in the living room. You’re seated on the couch talking with Steve who’s leaning against the fireplace mantel that’s strung with faux cobwebs. Eddie strides through the front door with a case of beer balancing on his shoulder.

Eddie isn’t used to attending parties for fun. Usually, he goes to make money off of teens who are too plastered to bargain a reasonable price for weak bud. He pretends to hate costumes but the geek in him secretly loves dressing up.

“You both came as zombies?” Steve groans. “How creative.”

Dustin wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, hugging him so tightly that Eddie groans in discomfort.

You turn to see who Steve is addressing and Eddie looks at you with an indiscernible look in his eyes. He can’t believe it. Not only are you here, but you’re both dressed as Eddie the Head from The Number of The Beast album. It’s a fairly simple costume, a white t-shirt with jeans and a little makeup, but it makes his chest throb in adoration for your shared interest in music.

You don’t look at him for long. Instead, you flash him a polite grin and turn back to Steve, continuing the conversation. Eddie was expecting you to run into his arms like before but you remained seated. A shockwave of dread jolts through his extremities. He knows you’ve got a bone to pick with him for what he did.

Later during the party, you find yourself in the kitchen chatting with Steve, Robin, and Nancy while the youngsters are hanging out in the living room. The heated debate about whether trail mix should contain peanuts or not lacks your participation. You’re more so listening than contributing. You lean against the counter, quietly snapping your fingers at your side. You’ve been doing well so far but you’re starting to feel anxious because your social battery is running low.

Eddie walks into the room and recognizes your nervous habit immediately. He recalls how you get overstimulated by loud music and commotion. The freshman running through the kitchen, shouting and laughing puts you further on edge.

Eddie can tell you must’ve never found someone who loved you enough to teach you how to cope like he’d hoped would happen. It makes his heart heavy knowing you’re still dealing with anxiety after all these years. It makes him wonder how often you must’ve needed him and he wasn’t there for you. He thought removing himself from your life was in your best interest. He assumed you’d be off doing bigger and better things without him in the way. Somehow he failed to realize how much he hurt you.

You were always there for him. Especially the afternoon that the two of you were reading Lord of the Rings in your fort in the woods. Shouting rumbled off in the distance. Both of you got to your feet and walked a few steps to the tree line to see what the racket was.

Earl Munson, Eddie’s father, had shown up unannounced and belligerently drunk.

“Fuckin’... fuckin’ good for nothing son of a bitch!” Earl roared.

Wayne could be heard yelling back at him. “Cops will be here any minute, you better… don’t you swing on me! Motherfu- drunk bastard!”

You clung to Eddie and he held onto you twice as tightly. Watching his deadbeat father behave erratically wasn’t something that was easy to look away from. Chief Hopper and another deputy showed up quickly due to there being a warrant out for Earl. He intensely resisted arrest, making one hell of a scene. Eddie cried that day, and you’re still the only one who knows about it.

“Here, c’mon. Let’s go outside.” Eddie whispers, gently taking your hand and guiding you outside to the back porch. He knows you need fresh air. Generally, he’s ecstatic to finally get you alone after watching you all night but he’s unnerved about the inevitable conversation about to unfold.

“So-uh.” He rubs his hands nervously, conveniently generating heat to fight the evening autumn breeze.

"Now you wanna talk? So fitting." The feelings of abandonment threaten your composure. “I tried calling, y’know. Quite a few times, actually.” You cross your arms in anticipation of whatever excuses he’s going to give.

Eddie avoids eye contact and shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. Struggling to find the right words to explain. “Sometimes… I think it’s just easier for people if I’m not around. I figured I’d do you a favor.”

A favor. Your breathing quakes as the words reverberate in your mind, the remaining anxiety pushing you over the edge into bitterness. He wasn’t busy and his phone number hadn’t changed. He meant to do it.

At the time, it was obvious to him that you were a force to be reckoned with. You’d been lucky enough to get out of Hawkins and he didn’t want to hold you back. He knew you’d conquer the world while chasing your dreams.

“You intentionally ignored me. That’s what you’re saying?” Tears roll down your cheeks but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. “That’s it, huh? You decided you were done with me?”

“No!” His eyes meet yours with bold intensity. “I said I would never let you go. I pinky promised, matter of fact. I never let go. There wasn’t a single fucking day that went by that I didn’t think about you.”

“Oh? And not a single day did you call me, or write me!” You huff. “Eight years, Ed! Eight whole fucking years.” Your face is glowing red with frustration. “You made me question myself and my worth. You made me feel like I did something wrong.”

The ache in your chest comes back stronger than ever, thinking about all of the nights you spent curled up in your bed with tears pooling under your eyes. You felt so alone without your best friend by your side. Eddie assumed you were adjusting to your new life, but you were suffering. As time went on, you managed. Except, the only thing ignoring you did was teach you how to live without him.

Eddie’s own tears begin to fall, guilt burying him beneath the earth’s surface. He feels like he’s suffocating, soil clouding his lungs as he watches your expression break while reliving the betrayal. “I-I love you.” It’s all he can muster, his tone sounds remorseful despite not actively apologizing.

“Don’t! Don’t you dare.” You snap at him while wiping your cheeks roughly. Putting your walls back up and braving forward. “If you loved me you wouldn’t have vanished. You don’t… you don’t abandon someone that you love.”

Eddie does love you. But at this point, it doesn’t matter. The damage has been done.

“Just let me explain, please.” He sobs and reaches for your hands. Even though he used his pain as an excuse to justify hurting you, he is sincerely penitent.

You let him take one of your hands into his large palms. His grip is trembling. He’s coming apart at the seams.

“No need.” You fixate your gaze on his fingers mindlessly stroking yours. “If anything I should thank you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, his eyes closely watching your mouth as if he could see the words falling from your lips.

With a deep breath, you meet his gaze and continue. “I learned the difference between being patient and wasting my time. Day after day I sat by the phone and waited. That was a waste of time. You taught me that.”

Eddie sniffles loudly, letting your words sink into his skin with the sting of the pain they harbor. “I won’t fuck up this time, okay? Give me another chance, please.”

You ignore his plea. You can’t trust that he won’t do the same thing again. “Ed, I won’t forget what we had, you made that time in my life so special.” You begin to withdraw your hand.

He stops your fingers from slipping through his. “Please- just. Don’t regret me.”

You flash him an unconvincing grin and avert your eyes before turning and disappearing back into the house. He doesn't see you for the rest of the night. The look you gave him was your goodbye, and it was the final one.

After driving home once the party is over, he sits in his van and cries harder than he has in years.

Eddie was wrong about you not needing him back then, but you sure as hell don’t need him now.

★My Masterlist

★Ko-fi ♡