#this project would take god knows how long & god know's how much money. who knows how much files space I'd waste on it.

[wickedghxst]

they should hurry up & make rpgmaker free so i can make sh3 demake as a fun little project to entertain myself. I am Not spending however much money I need for all the assets to do it.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Bad idea right?

Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it’s been a long time since you had fun with a guy. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body in relation to your roommate.

pairing: Michael Gavey x roommate fem!reader

warnings: p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, praising, english is not my first language. 3,455 words.

ewanverse characters masterlist

The idea of having a place only yours has always been something that cheered you up. Independence, silence and calm were very tempting qualities that always ended up being put in the background when the accounts were put on the table. In addition to the rent there was energy, internet, water, food and God knows if something breaks. You postponed the project for a long time while saving more money in the expectation of finding something more affordable, until the perfect option appeared on one of the announcement panels of the central building of the Campus. It was a beautiful coincidence actually, since you didn't used to go to such a place on a daily basis, but apparently the small white poster listed all the features you wanted in your small apartment for a price that fit in your pocket.

There was only one catch, a big catch.

The place already had an owner who was looking for a roommate.

In days past that would be enough for you to ignore the ad and follow your search, but the price and location seemed too tempting to ignore. You would give it a chance and call the number.

And then an even bigger but appeared: the voice on the other side of the line was masculine.

The idea of sharing an apartment with an unknown man was terrifying at all levels and almost made you hang up the phone. For some reason you arranged to visit the place the next day, obviously taking a friend and a knife in case the idiot wanted to play the smart.

And that's how you met Michael. Introverted, nerdy and brutally honest Michael Gavey. Obviously there was a lot of tension during the whole moment that led you to get to know the rooms and talk to him. About the place: it was quite comfortable and bigger than you expected, really organized and warm in the cold season of the beginning of winter. It was ridiculously pleasant. And as for Michael, well, you hadn't decided if he was a harmless nerd or a serial killer. Still, he seemed to interpret the female fear when he offered himself by saying:

"I understand that it's difficult for a woman to live with a lad she doesn't know."

But the point was: you had really liked the apartment, and when he started saying the rules of coexistence the distance between nerd and possible killer became bigger, much bigger. That was not a one-sided conversation, especially when you started questioning him in a not very subtle way about his life. What did he do? Where did he come from? Did he hide bodies in his room? (The latter was in your imagination, but you managed to spy on his room without being noticed).

Michael said that some people showed interest in the ad but that they did not fit the standard of roomies he wanted. Disorganized, drugged and very noisy, as soon as he classified them.

His methodical personality did his best to try to build a positive (or less negative) image you could have of the arrangement. And honestly, he seemed to be a quiet man, who appreciated a certain silence and calm that you wanted in your home most of the time. Obviously you checked the criminal record of the guy with caramel hair and beautiful blue eyes as soon as you left the building, relieving yourself by not finding anything. But hey, he was a student like you, it couldn't be so hard to find something about the guy!

By another incredible chance of fate a friend of a friend had some classes with Gavey and was very efficient in giving some information about the subject:

"Really smart, a little pretentious and clumsy, but he's a nice guy, doesn't have many friends and is definitely harmless."

Obviously it took much more than that to make you invest in the property, but what really mattered was that that weekend Michael Gavey had received a call and agreed with the idea.

So officially you were moving to the place you wanted, well located and cozy, but with a roommate who owns the place. And for the next few weeks after the move you slept with a knife under the pillow.

════════════════════

Living with Michael proved to be something very calm. Your classes took place at the same time, which culminated in sharing the rest of the day together. Initially things were strange, especially when you tried to talk to each other in the first days without any subject that caught the attention of the other, which defined the following days with dialogues only about the needs of coexistence. It was much easier that way and ensured that the dynamics between you happened in a more organic way than thought, since both were easy to deal with in your own ways. The apartment wasn’t complete yet, with few kitchen utensils and cleaning that you didn't mind buying. Michael was very hygienic and almost never left anything for you to clean (if it happened he would leave a note in the sink or bathroom indicating that he would take care of it later).

He wasn’t so good in the kitchen, but that wasn’t a problem when cooking was an almost relaxing activity for you, and it was very gratifying to receive compliments about your food. In addition, at the end of dinner he would make a point of washing the dishes to help.

Everything seemed to go very well over the weeks, the first month, the first month and a half until things started to change in the way you saw it.

Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it's been a while since you had fun with a man. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body. You see, Michael wasn’t bad looking, not with his caramel blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and a formidable face; not with his terribly long fingers and delicious hands, not with his height much higher than your usually covered your body when he approached. No, the point was that you never had a relationship with someone like him. A little introverted, methodical, with a particular sense of humor and a little grumpy. On the other hand, he knew how to be pleasant and malleable when he wanted, he was almost shrewd and a little lonely.

Adding this to a nice body, a perfectly sculpted face and the looks he sent you when your clothes were tighter or more tidy, the sum was that you wanted to fuck that damn nerd in every room of your shared apartment.

Initially the feeling was repressed. Maybe it was just your fertile period and the sad reality of being for a long time without a male comfort — not the fact that he looks like a delicious prey easily edible. However, as the days went by the realization of being really invested in your roommate was more explicit and palpable, really palpable. Something needed to be done on the subject and some ideas were already around your mind about how to convince Michael to have sex madly in the next few days.

You looked good as an advantage, although you weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, you were beautiful enough to take off a good looking partner. It couldn't be so difficult (or he could reject it). Therefore, acting with subtlety was your first option, although there was the uncertainty of him not realizing even if his mind was too sharp to do so. But in your state of urgency by instant action the games that would make him gradually succumb would be extremely stressful for you, so you would grab him at once.

But how would you proceed?

It was Friday night and your friends were dismissed for your onslaught to happen. Should you arrive as a hungry lun or a sneaky fox?

Fuck it, you'd jump on it with everything you had.

Wearing only a lacy white lingerie and an unbuttoned silk social t-shirt you left for the attack, opening the bedroom door and floating like a feather to the living room where your sweet roommate was distracted by the laptop. He didn't seem as focused as the times he studied, in fact he was almost relaxed in his gray sweatpants and thick pumpkin-colored sweater and a rare soft look on the screen. It was the ideal moment.

With a sensual feature and melodious voice you announced your presence with a simple "Hey," calling his attention.

And as you called it.

The poor lad could barely blink when he saw your half-naked and inviting figure approaching with a false innocent smile.

His reaction was a real treat. With his blue eyes wide from under his glasses and half-open mouth. He was terribly shocked, that was a fact, and it only encouraged you to go ahead. "I was thinking, if... you wouldn't have some time available for me." In a bold action, you gently pushed the laptop away and sat on his lap with one leg on each side of his waist, leaning your hands against the breastplate and leaning close to his flushed face to whisper on his perfect lips. "I'm thinking of something we can do together."

Blinking a few times for your dubious suggestion, Michael's hands landed uncertainly on the side of your thighs as he tried to formulate some audible answer in his now unstructured mind. “D-do you?” He asked tense, panting.

“Yes, but only if you want too,” you purred against his mouth, rubbing your noses and moving your dressed pussy against the newly hardened bulge, making him both moan low in anticipation.

Interesting fact about Michael: he's never had any girl rubbing against his body like that before. In fact, he never had a girl in any way.

It was something that didn't bother him full time, very worried about books, classes and science, but it would be a lie to say that he didn't think what it would be like to fuck a girl whose attraction to him was genuine. But that, well, that was better than any fantasy he's ever had throughout his life, that's why it was so costly to believe and answer your question with a blown and whispered "Yes", quickly amended by a more assertive confirmation: "I want to."

“Good," you smirk satisfied and collided your lips on his in a demanding and intense kiss, giving no chance to any doubt that he will feel. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and his soft caramelized hair, avoiding any body separation.

Michael moaned when your fingers pulled some sensitive threads from the back of his neck, holding your waist and ass in a firm grip. That could only be a big wet dream. Yes, he really stole glances at you many times, more than he was proud of, but to think that this would happen? That way? Not even fucking.

He pressed his hardened cock against your pussy again and broke a kiss with a grunt when you started grinding on it. It was a delight to feel the impressive hardness below your body and see it all red and anxious, capturing another panting, long and tongue-filled kiss. Not even when you ripped off his sweater and discarded your social shirt, your lips separated. Although he was a skinny nerd, he had a really nice body. You wanted to fuck right there, but it was exciting to see him follow your trail like a hungry puppy. And he was fucking hungry, although equally nervous about being his first time.

Michael wasn’t stupid to think it would last long, he heard the stories, he knew how the male body worked to hump for the first time, he knew it would be disastrous, so when you leaned against him again his words were quick to reveal his secret.

“Wait… I need to say something,” his eyes faced the ground, posture hardening as he quickly lowered his head. At that moment you were sure of your implications on your roomie's sexual history, but wanted to respect his process in stating clearly. "I've never done thid."

With a gentle hand groping the left side of his face, you tried to calm him down: "it's ok, really. We can stop if you don't feel comfortable."

"No, no, I want that, really-," he was quick to contest, "I just didn't want to disappoint you."

“Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you for that. Besides, I can teach you how to use these fingers to make women cum," you bit your lower lip, looking at it sensually. "Let me take care of you, babe."

And he became meek like a lamb, letting you take off his sweatpants before he himself hurriedly took off his shoes and socks and was only in his underwear, being guided to lie on the bed while your body climbed on his hips and groped his arms, breastplate and milky abs. "You have such a great body," you purred and leaned to kiss him, savoring his hands kneading and squeezing your arse, climbing up your back and daring to open the clasp of your bra, to which you were rewarded by your satisfied tinnitus. “Good boy,” and then your tits were exposed to his delight, being touched and exploited by two large, warm and inexperienced hands. God, he never thought that tis could be so amazing.

His thumbs rotated your halos experimentally, with a little more force than necessary but without being uncomfortable. Your hands covered Michael's and guided them to your waist, squeezing, landing them on your hips.

"Women like caresses and kisses to get in the mood. Kisses on the neck, jaw, clavicle, boobs..." you started, "I don't need these things at the moment, but next time this will be welcome."

Although excited about the idea of a next time suggested in advance, Michael didn’t want to spend his luck betting that your thought would be kept after sex, as a result, he sat in bed with you on his lap and attacked your neck with kisses, bites and hickeys. His work against the encounter between neck and shoulder made you purr with pleasure and close your eyes, really enjoying how he gently pulled some strands of hair from the back of your neck. The boy had potential.

“Keep going, babe”

The wet and anxious trail followed your lap, top and valley of the tits until capturing a nipple in the hot mouth, sucking and nibbling greedily. He couldn't believe that you were on his lap letting him suck your tits, that he was the reason for your moans and soft whining. Damn, he was already in the clouds and hadn't even actually laid you — or the opposite.

And although the feeling was terribly pleasant, the heat in your pussy was too aggressive to ignore, you needed a quick and urgent relief.

"Michael" you called him. "I need to get the condom," with that, you walked away against his will to pick up the package from your nightstand. "Now, take a deep breath when I start and try to distract yourself with something else to last longer, I'll go slowly but it's very intense and better than your hand, so hold tight," you warned him before pulling his boxer down to reveal his beautiful dick shining with pre-cum. Holy shit, Michael Gavey was fucking nice. “Damn, you’re fucking handsome. I should have seen this before."

And he was already out of breath before you stretched around him, his glasses crooked and a little blurry, half-open mouth and body hurting in anxiety, cock writhing with every touch received on his skin.

“Put it.”

And he put on the condom while you removed your panties and crawled into his lap again, making him lie down again. “Hold on, big guy.”

And then, picking up his cock and guiding him to your entrance, you sank slowly, giving him time to squeeze your hips with each centrimeter swallowed, caressing and smelling his soft hair when his head fell against your neck. Nothing had prepared him for that, no handful of lubricant came close to the tightness, heat and moisture of your pussy. If he was in the clouds before, now he was sure he was in the sky. “Wait! Wait! Don't move yet." And for that he needed to make sure it lasted.

"Okay... just breath babe, relax, think of something else." you instructed him panting, savoring the feeling of his cock inside your silky walls. Everything about his member was perfect, from the size to the thickness, filling you perfectly. A whining fell from your lips and you hugged him. “So good, mm.”

"Fuck," he grunted in despair, squeezing your body against his.

“Don't worry about it, it's okay, just enjoy it while it lasts,” you whispered against his temple.

That was the damn point. “I won't last long,” he said.

“So just enjoy, Mike,” biting his earlobe, you started jumping constantly, moaning uninhibitely at how good that nerd felt. He pushed his face even more on your neck and held your waist to the dear life, moaning and grunting and pulling you to lie above him. He was a panting mess with blurry glasses and a half-open mouth, a damn sight that made you more aroused than usual, very proud to be the reason for his snatched state.

“Oh fuck, fuck- I'm gonna-“

“Come for me, babe,” you rubbed your groin against his one, two, three times when he fell apart intensely with a long, hoarse moan, heavy breathing and a blushing face.

Withdrawing from him, your body fell on the bed still hot and longing to be satisfied, watching him gradually recompose in a brief comfortable silence.

"So... did you like it?" You asked, fingering his breastplate.

Did he like it? Damn, that shit blew his mind. “So fucking good.” Although part of his mind was eager to reward you, he had to. He had to make you cum. Turning to face you, Michael stood at your top before while asking: "what should I do now?"

Smirking maliciously, you leaned your feet on the bed and spread your legs more to him. “Fuck me with your fingers,” you purred, taking his right hand and guiding him to your wet center. "I like it when guys don't forget that I have a clit, I don't understand why, even why it makes your work easier," you circled your hill with his fingers, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Heat me up with one, then put on another."

And he followed your rules like a good boy, sticking a long finger pumping slowly.

"Mhm, just like that," you bit your lower lip, but very very very impatient to wait for the development of a slow orgasm, you needed to cum as soon as possible. Taking his hand, you held your index finger and made him join the middle one. “Go faster.”

And although sloppy and a little strong a few times, his fingers felt so fucking good on your velvet walls, reaching the sweet point that made your toes curl. “Fuck! Keep going Michael!”

He was hypnotized by the wet sounds that your pussy was making, by your body writhing and his fingers disappearing inside you, squeezing, wetting...

That set of things went straight to his cock.

"Roll your fingers slowly," you ordered, arching your back when he pressed against your spot, intensifying the tingling at the base of your stomach and making you moan louder. “Don't stop, I-I'm close!”

His glasses were on the tip of his nose, almost plummeting from his face, but it didn't matter at the moment. Deciding to use your previous tip on the clit, Michael used his other hand to circle your pearl with pressure, making his eyes close.

“Oh fuck! I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a warm pleasure flooded your senses, holding the bed for the darling life and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

That was better than any porn he watched. And with that he encompassed the last minutes from your approach until now. Michael was still very stunned by everything that happened, that’s why when he lay on your bed it was as if he was recovering from an electric discharge, his mind and body ridiculously overloaded and active. As for you, after a while restoring from a delicious orgasm, you rested your head on his chest and traced patterns on the milky to soft skin, playing with some fine and lost hair. "So, do you want a second round?"

═════════════════════

a/n: I know we don’t have much about Michael, but I was so anxious about this hot nerd that I couldn’t wait for the movie.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Girls Night

“You owe me 200!”

“Fine! Just take all my money!”

You laughed, throwing the paper money at her and taking a sip of your wine. It was safe to say that you sucked at playing Monopoly. Ellie had ownership of all the railroads and utilities, Abby had at least 2 hotels on each of her properties, and Alex spent most of her time in jail.

It still wasn’t a match for you, who had 25 dollars to your name, 2 properties that only generated around 30.00 total in rent, and would miss the free parking space every chance you got. When your time came and you rolled the cursed dice, the Monopoly Gods decided to end your pathetic gaming reign by putting you in jail.

“Alright, well I’m out,” you stated defeatedly, taking a long sip of wine as your confirmation.

“Aw, it’s alright Y/N. Maybe you’ll do better the next game!” Abby tried but you shook your head with a quickness.

“Absolutely not. Not only is this game rigged to make me realize how terrible of a homeowner I am, but it lasts forever! Alex knows, she’s been in jail for the last three turns.”

“Hey, I don’t mind it. I just collect all my rent money while I’m in here,” Alex retorted.

You laughed as you heard the front door open and saw Jethro walk in with a grocery bag and a bottle of whiskey. You got up from your spot immediately, happy to see him home finally and walked over as he set the stuff down on the kitchen counter. He had let the team go home earlier in the night but told you he needed to stay behind to do some paperwork on their latest case. Abby was the first one to suggest the girls game night and it didn’t take much convincing of Ellie or Alex when the promise of wine, snacks, and a warm fire were included.

“Hey hun. You just missed my embarrassing defeat in Monopoly. Remind me to never play this game with your team again, they’re entirely too good. And I think Abby’s been hiding all the good chance cards up her sleeve.”

He chuckled as you gave him a welcome home kiss and started noisily poking around in the goods he had brought home.

“Ooh. Chips, dip and whiskey? You trying to butter me up sir?”

He smiled and pried the bottle from your hands. “Whiskeys mine. And it sounds to me like you’re already buttered up,” he teased softly, not wanting his special agents to hear your two’s playful PDA. With another small kiss, he walked out to the group of girls and surveyed the real estate war.

“Doing well Abbs. Bishop, I like your strategy. And Quinn, stop hiding in jail.”

“I’m not hiding! I’m just taking my time,” she defended as everyone laughed.

“I’ll be downstairs if you girls need me. Good night.”

They called out their farewells as he made his way into his little woodworking dungeon and you took your spot back, bringing the new snacks with you.

“Alright Banker Abby. I need a loan,” you pleaded.

————

The clock read 11 pm once the girls left and you cleaned up your game space. In the end, it was Ellie who won, most likely due to her incredible NSA analysis skills and you had ended up with at least more than the small loan Banker Abby gave you. Once you put all the furniture back and glassware in the dishwasher, you made your way downstairs to see Jethro.

There was light country music and a muted tv playing as you watched him slowly move the sandpaper over his newest project. He had finished the boat a while back and offered to build you some beautiful planter boxes for the garden you wanted to start once spring came around.

It was always a treat for you when you watched him work. His movements were smooth and calculated, knowing just how much pressure to apply or what angle to use and seeing him wearing his tool belt and covered in sawdust just did it for you.

“You gonna stand there all night?” he called out with a smirk.

Walking over, you hopped up on one of the counters and took a small sip of his mason jar whiskey, slightly cringing at the taste.

“You know who would be really great for Ellie? Nick. I think their different personalities would really even each other out.”

“Rule number 12, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. Since when do any of his subordinates follow it, including himself. You knew all about his past with the director and Sloan, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rule number 83. Don’t be a hypocrite,” you quipped, making up your own rule.

He gave you the look that you see from him to his team all the time but it didn’t work on you so you just smiled cheekily back at him. He stopped sanding and came over, taking the glass from your hands and finishing the awful brown liquor, your arms snaking around his neck. He smelt like a lumbermill mixed with a distillery and you loved it. You loved it even more when you pulled him in for a kiss and tasted the leftover vapors of his whiskey on his tongue. The effect of drinking your 3 glasses of wine had you feeling warm and fuzzy and made Jethro’s touch electric.

When you two pulled away, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “Let’s go to bed.”

Not needing any convincing, you nodded and he helped you down, taking off his toolbelt and carelessly dropping it on one of the tables before following you back upstairs.

[qqueenofhades]

I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable answering this, but my mind is spiraling out of control and you’re the only person I know with the level of knowledge to where I can feel comfortable asking this without getting some form of “bla bla we live in a safe state don’t worry.”

I’m sincerely wondering if I need to be making plans to leave the country in the event of November bringing the most horrible of outcomes despite our best efforts (and yes I’m planning to vote blue in everything I can); as a AFAB in CA?

I know about project 2025. I’m terrified. Forgive my pop culture reference, but I feel like a version of Princess Zelda staring down a barrel of possible doom while everyone around me is like “nah that future you literally had a nightmare about where they made it illegal for a woman to have a bank account without a guy co-signing it and took the money from everyone who didn’t comply by a certain date isn’t even a possibility!”

I’m just confused about my life and am trying to take it day by day, and exercising every right while I still have it to prevent this outcome, but it feels weird making plans and retirement accounts and just general Setting Up Adult Life And Future Things™️……while wondering if I even have a future in this place at all and I’m just making it harder to escape if need be.

I’m sorry I’m rambling, and I guess I don’t know what I’m asking since no one has a crystal ball.

But I guess, it’s stuff like how much can the feds effect state’s policies? Is it possible for them to immediately block international travel for all women practically upon inauguration? How much time would I even have to gtfo if the worst begins?

Bc honestly this whole thing feels like the lead in to a very nasty chapter of a history book, and even though I have hope we’ll have another blue tsunami, it can be hard to try and figure things out when it feels like there’s barely any historical precedent for any of it.

Welp. Okay. First of all, I am giving you a comforting hug, I am walking with you to your favorite coffee shop, I am paying for your favorite beverage and also a baked goodie of your choice, and we are sitting down in a corner where we can talk honestly. So that's where I want you to imagine us having this conversation.

To start with, yes, I completely understand this feeling of utter, paralyzing doom, where I am trying to go about my daily life and make plans for my career and carry out daily tasks and Be Responsible while there's still just this total void beyond the end of the year, the utter impossibility of knowing if we will have dodged an absolutely massive bullet and finally be safe (since if Trump loses again he is 100% going to jail in the next four years) or, well. You know. That is a very hard way to live, when you're wondering if anything is going to matter and you can't see beyond that black cloud of fear on the horizon. It sucks you down and tells you that nothing is worth doing now in case it just gets so much worse. I am not going to tell you not to feel that. We all do. We are all scared. That in and of itself is a perfectly normal way to feel.

However, there are things you can do both now and if (I repeat, if) God absolutely forbid, the worst was to happen (again). First of all, we have already lived through a Trump presidency once. It was terrible and scary and awful and demoralizing as fuck, but we can do it again if we absolutely Goddamn fucking have to (once, again, God forbid). Second, you are currently about as safe as you could be in California. Newsom has proven himself to be smart, tough, able to run rings around Republicans, and unwilling to comply with their stupid performative-cruelty directives. He's not a saint or a magician, but you don't need that; you need a shrewd politician able to fight back, and he has proven himself willing and capable of doing that. So as long as he is governor, you're going to be more safe than not, and I'd also like to ask all the shrieking Online Leftists if, should the shit go down, they would rather live in a state with a Democratic governor who will fight Trump 2.0 every step of the way, or a Republican governor who will just roll over and obey. (But that would destroy their BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME talking point, so you know.)

Next of all, even if the Republicans are doing their best impression, America in 2024 isn't Germany in 1934. There are different tools, different ways to fight back, and different awarenesses/social media/visibility factors. I also need everyone to remember that just as Biden can't just sign an executive order and fix everything everywhere, Trump can't just sign an executive order and fuck everything everywhere, just like that with no more discussion ever. He tried that last time, it generally didn't work, and trust me, at least this time nobody is sleeping on the danger he poses. His candidacy in 2016 was dismissed as a long-shot joke that nobody took seriously until it was too late, and for better or worse, people aren't doing that this time. He will be sued instantly, incredibly, and repeatedly with everything his band of wannabe fascists try, and since we have had four years of Biden fixing the courts from where Trump trashed them, that does mean something. There is no scenario where even if he does issue some outrageous order against women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, etc (which to be clear, I'm sure he would try) it would just be carried out completely, immediately, and with no feasible way to stop it. Evil is evil, but it is also stupid, clueless, determined to hurt people just for the hell of it without any regard for what is possible or which will be allowed, and there's a lot more grey area in there than just "Trump says something terrible and it's instantly done, the end."

Once again, I'm not going to say that the worst-case scenario is not possible, but I don't think it's likely, and even if that does happen, there are ways for us to survive and fight back (again). Nobody wants it and it should not have to be asked of us due to the utter collapse of the social, civic, political, and intellectual fabric of this country thanks to the TrumpCult, but once again... these people are so loud and dangerous and cruel and stupid because they are in the minority. Etc. etc. polls are garbage, but we did just have an interesting piece of empirical data from the Iowa caucuses. Trump -- in one of the whitest, most rural, most conservative, most religious, most Trump-loving states in the country -- struggled to break 50%. Almost half of a rabid Republican fully-Trumpized electorate, among the diehards sufficiently motivated to get out and caucus in extreme freezing weather, voted for someone else (Haley and DeSantis took about 20% apiece). Now, no, we don't know how that will translate to the general election, and if registered Republicans will flock back to the nominee even if it's Trump, but as almost half of Haley voters said they would vote for Biden if it was a Biden-Trump matchup in the general, there is some sense that Trump is an aberration to their otherwise ironclad party loyalty. Now, Republicans are the fucking worst and nobody should be relying on them to save us; we still need to get out and vote for Democrats with all our might. But Trump is no longer barn-burningly popular even in core Trump heartland, and it'll be interesting to see how things go in future primaries.

My point is: I know the feeling that evil is awful and unstoppable and all-powerful, and will crush our lives and our futures no matter what we do to resist it. I really, really do. But Trump is a terrible candidate, he's running literally only to keep himself out of a long, long prison sentence, and if he had crushed the Iowa caucuses regardless, we might be having a different conversation. However, we need to remember that it is possible, again (God forbid) in the worst scenario, to resist, to live, and to win. Everyone who is motivated to work for a better world will still be here. Everyone who can help you and all of us will still be here. And there are more of us than there are of them. Yes, I do understand the feeling that we need to have contingency plans in place, I do absolutely know that it could get very bad, and all that (as you say, nobody has a crystal ball). But for now, I want you to take a deep breath, try to take this day by day, and remember that this is not a crushing and inevitable future that will sweep over you and destroy you without you (or any other person of good will) having a say in the matter. You still have agency, you still have the ability to protect yourself, and you still have others who will protect you in turn. You're not alone. The bad guys want you to think that, because when you're isolated and terrorized, you're easier to pick off and/or recruit into their cult. But you're not.

In conclusion: "What are we holding onto, Sam?"

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 13

words: 4,3k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as “hate” was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

ac: _3aem

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: I wrote down all the events that I want Birdie to have and the fic might end up being 35-40 chapters long. At first I really thought it was going to be just 20 but as I kept writing chapters, more ideas came and we still have a lot unresolved things, so definitely Birdie will take a bit longer. But thank you to everyone who always comments here or ao3, y’all really make me want to keep writing, but also those who leave likes they also help and make me really happy. Also we are over 400 followers what? 😭 thank you so much ❤️

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“In love?” You questioned still resting your head on her legs.

Kyoto nodded with a smile. “Yes. The way you talked about him, it’s not a simple crush, you realize that right?” She asked.

Did you? Your heart accelerated in your chest, what you felt for Satoru was not a crush or that you simply liked him, were you in love with him? You sat on the bed, feeling a little dizzy from the sudden movement. And you took a deep breath.

“I need to talk with him and apologize for my reaction.” You tried to grab your phone but Kyoko took it from you. 

“The fact that you’re in love with him, doesn’t mean what he did was right.” You nodded. “So don’t apologize for reacting the way you did, you were hurt and that’s okay. What you both need to do is talk things out and leave your boundaries cleare, that way things can work out.” 

“Oh god Kyoko.” You throw yourself at her. “I have never been in love or even in a serious relationship, this is scary.” 

She stroked your hair gently. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you will know what to do. But remember, don't apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You slightly laughed. “And tell him, that if I find you once again crying I will kill him.” 

“My best protector.” You hugged her.

“You know I am.” She hugged you back. “You were there for me when I was at my lowest and I also want to be always with you and take care of you, because you are my best friend.” 

You felt your tears falling down your cheeks. There were not enough words to describe what Kyoko was to you and what it had meant to you that she came into your life. You have changed a lot since you met her and your world has also changed thanks to her. It really was one of the few good things you'd had for a long time, but now, that world of good things was slowly opening up and you just hoped it would keep opening up even more.

You felt your eyes closing little by little and how sleep subtly enveloped you, while you were still hugging Kyoko. 

That night you dreamed. You were able to immerse yourself in a clear world, so much so that you could feel it as real. In this landscape, you found yourself on the shores of a calm lake, whose surface shone under the soft caress of the sunlight. A familiar warmth hugged you, it was the comforting embrace of your mother's smile, a beacon of love and security, that you had long lost. And in the midst of this environment, your attention was focused on a figure kneeling near you, holding with tender care a wounded bird in their hands. The scene unfolded with such clarity and emotion that it seemed more than just a dream, as if it were a memory that your mind had wanted to eliminate from your head.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you woke up. Doubt lingered in your mind, questioning the difference between reality and a dream. Was it really a product of the dreams or a forgotten fragment of your mind? Although the images in the dream had felt real, you had not been able to see that other person's face clearly. But what was that feeling of anguish that had settled in your chest? Why did you feel so extremely agitated?

“You up?” You heard Kyoko’s sleepy voice talking, she was stretching herself next to you.

“Yeah…” You smiled softly at her. “Thanks.” You whispered.

“Don’t say it.” She sat next to you. “I’m always here for you.” She gave you a small squish in the hand.

You nodded. “And I’m always here for you too.”  You carefully rose from the comfort of your bed, feeling the stiffness in your muscles dissipate as you stretched your back. "I should start getting ready, I have class at 10." You commented.

Kyoko curled up under the covers and made a moan of reluctance. "Ugh, I just want to stay home all day." She wailed, burying her face in the pillows. “How about we skip class today?”

But you shook your head resolutely, dismissing the idea. "I have to go. I want to talk to Satoru, and if I don't show up, he might get the wrong idea. Communication is key if we want this relationship to work."

A soft smile appeared on Kyoko's lips as she looked at you in admiration. "I'm proud of you." She murmured, her voice filled with affection. “Let's go have breakfast.” With a sudden burst of energy, she jumped out of bed and took your hand, leading you into the kitchen to start the day with a shared meal.

While Kyoko busied herself preparing breakfast, you grabbed your cell phone and checked your latest notifications. There were no messages from Satoru and you understood that he was giving you the space and time you had requested. You felt grateful for his understanding.

Opening his chat, you took a look at the name you had assigned him and couldn't help but smile at how your relationship had taken a 180 degree turn in such a short time. You didn't want to lose what had just started by simply avoiding a small conversation that could clarify everything.

You to Satoru ✨

Can we talk before class today?

Placing your phone on the table, you welcomed the breakfast Kyoko had prepared for the both of you, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves at the prospect of the impending conversation with Satoru.

Kyoko, noticing the thoughtful expression on your face, asked softly. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I was just thinking about talking to Satoru before class."

"Oh I see." Kyoko's eyes shone with understanding. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

You nodded again, appreciating Kyoko's supportive words. With every bite of breakfast, you found yourself mentally preparing for the conversation that awaited you. The need for clarity and openness with Satoru felt more pressing than ever.

After finishing breakfast, you organized the dishes together with Kyoko. Turning your head you noticed how the screen of your phone lit up. You nervously picked it up and checked what it was.

Satoru ✨

Alright, if you want I can pick you up.

You bite your thumb, hesitant about what to do, but finally decided to follow what your heart told you.

You to Satoru ✨

Sure, I still need to get ready but see you in 40 minutes?

Satoru ✨

Sure see you

With your heart pinching in your chest you locked the phone and walked back to the room. You leaned against your door and sighed deeply, trying to calm your agitated heart. 

You wanted Satoru to get there as soon as possible, you wanted to see him and clarify everything. Your heart was shaking hard thinking about Kyoko's words. It wasn't a simple crush, you were fucking in love with Satoru Gojo and that overwhelmed you in too many ways. 

First of all, the idea terrified you, the stories you knew about love never had a happy ending. Your father abandoned your mother when she was pregnant after swearing eternal love, your grandmother was also abandoned by your grandfather after he found another family. 

You didn't want to have to suffer that abandonment yourself, you had already been alone too many times, you had lost too many people you loved. You didn't want Satoru to take your heart and somehow break it. 

But on the other hand, it was exciting and it filled your heart with complete warmth. And was able to put a smile on your face.

Feeling the weight of fatigue pressing down on your limbs, you backed away from the door and headed towards your closet. As you moved around the room, the warmth of Tokyo spring filtered through the windows. Jackets and long pants gradually were becoming unnecessary as the temperature was starting to rise. 

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, a thought crossed your mind, a memory of the time you wore Kyoko's dress and how Satoru had noticed despite your limited interactions. It was a small, seemingly insignificant moment, but it remained in your memory as a testament to Satoru's care. Smiling at the memory, you finished getting ready and waited for Satoru's call to light up your cell phone, now with a black screen.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, your heart raced with anticipation and nerves tightened in your chest. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly until the familiar melody of his phone's ringtone broke the silence, lighting up the room with Satoru's name displayed on the screen: "Satoru ✨.”

“Satoru…” You greeted, your voice betraying a hint of nerves.

"Birdie..." His normally calm and confident voice wavered slightly. "I'm outside. If you're not ready, I can..."

"No." You interrupted. "I am. I'll be there in ten seconds."

"Alright." He murmured softly, the tension was palpable even through the phone.

With a quick exhale, you ended the call and got out of bed, a rush of adrenaline spurring you to get moving. Grabbing your bag, you briefly said goodbye to Kyoko before stepping out into the sunlight. As you walked out the door, your eyes met Satoru's figure leaning casually against his sleek black car, his signature dark sunglasses hiding his gaze.

With each step towards Satoru, something tightened in your chest, making it difficult to swallow the saliva that was building up in your mouth. When he heard your footsteps, Satoru looked up, and at that moment, your eyes met his.

A surge of electricity seemed to run through your entire being as his piercing blue eyes, the ones you loved so much, met yours. It was as if time slowed down, the world around you fading into insignificance as you drowned in the intensity of that shared gaze.

In that fleeting moment, everything else faded away: the sounds of the bustling city, the warmth of the sun on your skin, leaving you alone with Satoru.

When his eyes held yours, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, as if his gaze alone had the power to anchor you in the tumultuous sea of ​​emotions swirling inside you.

“Hey.” He greeted you softly.

“Hi…” You tried to greet him in the same softly way, but somehow your voice came out shaky.

For a moment, silence enveloped them both, interrupted only by the sound of the city of Tokyo getting into motion that spring morning.

Breaking the silence, Satoru pointed towards his car with a subtle nod. "We should …?"

Nodding, you got into the familiar car. As I sat in the car next to him, the engine whirred to life. You pressed your hands against your knees and let out the air accumulated in your lungs.

“Satoru…” You began but your voice was left hanging in the air when Satoru talked.

“I’m sorry…” He began, you saw how he held the wheel stronger than before. “I’m really sorry and I don’t know how to begin this. And I don’t want to make excuses because what I did was unacceptable, I crossed some boundaries that I shouldn’t have crossed and all because I thought I was doing it to help you but the truth is that I only hurt you and invaded your personal space.” He took a small break. “I would understand if you don’t want to talk or even see me again, I’m an asshole and I fucked up badly.”

The car fell silent, his eyes were fixed on the road and yours on his face. “Can you pull over?” You said.

Satoru simply nodded and in silence he pulled over, parking the car in a free space. His eyes were still looking to the front, not looking at you.

“Satoru… could you look at me.” And with puppy eyes he looked at you. “Yeah, what you did wasn’t okay and it hurt me. And I’m glad you know it was wrong and hopefully you don’t make that mistake again.” Satoru nodded in silence. “But…” You paused and looked at him, carefully and feeling the nervousness and shyness take over your body, you held his face. “I don’t want to lose this, I don't want to lose us.” You shyly smiled. “I’m glad you acknowledge what you did wrong but I don’t want this to break up.” His eyes were fixed on you, carefully watching you.

“Are you sure?” He swallowed. “It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again, I can… bare with it.” You smiled seeing his poor intent of lying.

“Could you?” You smiled.

And he shook his head. “I wouldn’t.” He got closer to you and rested his forehead on your shoulder. “Thank you…” He whispered. “I know I’m an asswhole and that I’m annoying and all that.”

“You are my all that.” You smiled, caressing his white hair. 

“Let’s skip classes.” He said against your skin. “Let’s go to 

“Can I kiss you?” He said looking at your lips and then up at your eyes. 

“Yes…” You whispered before feeling the warmth of his lips on yours.

The kiss was a tender hug, soft and delicate, as if Satoru was afraid of breaking you or hurting you. His lips meeting yours with a soft caress, transmitting a silent promise of protection and tenderness. Yet despite the gentle touch, you felt a surge of warmth radiate from within you, filling you with a feeling of fullness you had never known before.

In that moment, you found yourself craving more of his touch, hungry for the warmth of his lips against yours. His hesitation only fueled your desire, igniting a fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, you surrendered to the sensation, losing yourself in the tender embrace of his lips. Every brush of skin against skin sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

You felt alive, consumed by the intoxicating allure of his presence. It was a moment of pure happiness, where time seemed to stop and the world faded away, where it was just the two of you.

You felt an avalanche of emotions cascading through you, a mix of desire, and vulnerability.

When the kiss finally broke, a breathless moment remained between you, your labored breaths mixing together to form one. Satoru's gaze, now softened but full of intensity, reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

With a calming breath, your voice was a mere whisper against the growing sound of your racing heart. "Satoru..."

He met your gaze intently, his eyes searching yours for the words that threatened to leave your lips.

"I want to meet you." You confessed, your voice shaking slightly with vulnerability. "Everything about you."

A slight smile appeared at the corners of Satoru's lips. "And I want to show you." He responded, raising his hand to gently caress your face.

Under his soft touch you closed your eyes and let yourself be caressed, you let yourself be loved for the first time in a long time. He left a small kiss on your lips before turning back to the wheel.

“Let’s go to the beach the day after tomorrow.” Satoru smiled at you and you smiled back at him. 

“Why then?” You wondered looking at him.

“Oh I heard the weather will be good then.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay…” You smiled. “It’s a date then?” 

“Yeah…” He softly whispered. “Thank you birdie.” 

You shook your head and your shoulders. “You need to stop thanking me Satoru. Now let’s go to class.” 

Satoru nodded and started the car. With a smile on your lips, you felt your heart beating steadily again, and the cloud that had been lingering in your head disappeared completely. The road became familiar, and soon Satoru parked the car in front of your college.

You hesitated for a second as you got out of the car and walked next to him, but Satoru grabbed your hand with a reassuring smile. You felt everyone's eyes on you and heard the whispers as they commented on the scene unfolding before them. Satoru walked proudly, holding your hand, and didn't let go until you reached your class. That day you weren’t sharing any classes so that was your goodbye spot.

As you approached the classroom door, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you after class, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of confidence from his support. "Okay."

He leaned in, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good luck in class, birdie."

You watched as he walked away. Turning to enter the classroom, you noticed a few lingering glances and whispers from your classmates, but the warmth of Satoru's presence lingered with you, making it easier to ignore them.

Taking your seat, you focused on the lecture. As you left your first class, you were greeted by the smiling face of Kyoko, who was waiting for you leaning against one of the walls outside your classroom. With a grin, she approached you.

"And well? Have you already spoken?" She asked eagerly, falling into step beside you. "C'mon, tell me!"

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips as you recounted the recent events. "We fixed everything, and in two days, we're going to the beach.” You announced, unable to contain your excitement. "As a date."

Kyoko's eyes widened in excitement, and she let out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "Oh my gosh, that's amazing!" She exclaimed, unable to contain her joy. "I'm so happy for you!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, feeling grateful to have such a supportive friend by your side. Kyoko kept on jumping around winning the curious eyes of everyone surrounding both of you.

“You know what it means right?” She smirked.

“What?” You said with a funny tone on your voice.

“Double dates!” She made a small dance. “Oh what could we do? We could go to Kyoto or Okinawa during the summer break!” 

“A girl works you know?” 

“And that girl deserves some vacations you know?” She replied back. “C’mon imagine expending some days in Okinawa, the four of us, on the beach.” She started daydreaming and you rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you want to see your man shirtless and more.” 

“Geez Kyoko.” You rolled your eyes. 

She laughed and followed your steps. “Sorry, sorry but you know?” You looked at her. “Suguru has his whole arm tattooed, ugh when I tell you that is so sexy, when he is without...” 

“Please Kyoko, I don't want any more information about your private relationship with Suguru.” 

“Okay, I will stop.” She laughed. “But hey!” You looked at her from over your shoulder. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you.” You smiled back at her. 

“Can’t believe we used to think they were dating.” Kyoko recalled the time when you both thought Satoru and Suguru were dating and you chuckled at it.

Satoru Gojo POV

“Did you fix it?” Shoko raised her eyebrow.

“I did, we are good okay?” He sighed. “I won’t fuck things up like that again.”

“Well done man.” Suguru raised his thumb nodding his head. “So what now?” He raised his eyebrows while taking a sip of his tea.

“We are going on a date in two days.” Satoru smiled with confidence.

“Are you planning on asking her to be your girlfriend?” Shoko questioned.

“I… I guess so.” He shrugged.

Shoko looked at Satoru and then at Suguru. “What’s up with him?” 

Suguru shook his head with a smile. “He has never done that before.” 

“What?” Shoko gasped surprised. “But I have seen you dating before.” 

“Yeah, but it was different. We hung around, had fun and I guess we assumed we were in a relationship.” Satoru moved his hands around, trying to explain himself. “But I never sat down and asked anyone to date.” 

“And you are nervous.” Shoko mischievously smiled. “Oh my god!” She laughed. “The great Satoru Gojo is nervous.” 

“Shoko shut up.” He said embarrassed. 

“No, no, I really like this.” She laughed. “Oh god I’m so happy to see this side of you.” 

“Shoko enough.” Suguru laughed. 

“Suguru admit it, you are also loving it.” She smirked.

“Don’t Suguru.” He warned him. 

“I have to say it, I like seeing this side of you.” Suguru laughed alongside his friend.

“You know, I hate both of you.” Satoru stood up. “You.” He pointed at Suguru. “We have practice so get your ass up if you don’t want to get scolded.”

Suguru chuckled and stood up. “See you Shoko.”

“See ya!” Shoko waved her hand at her two friends.

Satoru and Suguru walked side by side. With their training backpacks slung over their shoulders, Satoru and Suguru took giant steps towards the basketball court. The familiar, slightly musty smell of the gym greeted them as they entered, a nostalgic reminder of the countless hours they spent training there. The freshmen were already working hard, performing exercises as Coach Yaga's booming voice echoed through the space, urging them to try harder.

Satoru and Suguru exchanged amused glances, their eyes reflecting shared memories of their own experiences as freshmen. They remembered well the intense sessions and the coach's unwavering expectations. 

"It seems like yesterday we were the ones who were yelled at." Satoru reflected, with a smile on his lips.

"Yeah." Suguru agreed, chuckling. “Coach Yaga hasn’t changed in the slightest. He's still as intense as ever."

As they walked towards the court, Yuji greeted them, putting aside his training, earning a shout from the coach. 

Coach Yaga turned his head and saw them. "Gojo, Geto, stop standing there and get to work! Warm up with the others!"

Satoru waved playfully, earning a quizzical look from the trainer, and joined the exercises with Suguru at his side.

“Captain Gojo!” A voice resounded in the distance.

Satoru looked up to see Haibara's figure running towards him, followed closely by Nanami. Upon reaching them, Haibara knelt before Satoru, his expression serious and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry if by not keeping my mouth shut I've ruined your relationship, Captain Gojo!" Haibara blurred, his voice filled with remorse.

Satoru looked embarrassed to the side of him, looking at Suguru, who was trying to suppress a laugh. "Haibara, please get up." Satoru said, his tone soft but firm.

Haibara did as Satoru asked, slowly getting up but still looking worried. 

"Nothing has happened." He tried to calm him down, Satoru. "And in any case, it would be my fault if the relationship had gone sour. Birdie and I worked it out." I gave Haibara a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “The truth is, you did well Haibara. I'm sorry for putting you in that situation.” This time it was Satoru who bowed slightly.

Haibara smiled at Satoru. “It’s okay captain, I’m glad you two fixed everything.” 

“So you and the girl you were with the other day at the club are finally dating?” Yuji exclaimed. “Oh she was really nice and funny.” 

Satoru caught a bit trying to keep himself calm. “Not yet.” Satoru murmured.

“Oh but they were really nicely kissing and holding hands after getting out of the car.” A voice spoke. 

Satoru rolled his eyes upon recognizing the voice and looked at him indifferently. “Sukuna, why do you care about what I do?” 

Sukuna laughed as he approached the group. “Excuse me Gojo, it's hard not to see you.” 

Satoru sighed and rested his hand on his hip. "What are you doing here? "It's been more than a year since he expelled you from the club." 

“Can't I come see my favorite nephew?” He tilted his head, directing his gaze to Yuji.

Yuji rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to see you here.” 

“Neither did I want to come here brat, but your father called me and told me to hang you this.” He said throwing him a bag. “Anyways Gojo is good to see you.” He smirked leaving the group.

“Sometimes I wonder how you two are family.” Yuta mumbled. 

“Don’t remind me.” Yuji protested. “He is my uncle but we are so close in age that sometimes he is like an annoying older brother.”

"Yuji, do you know if Sukuna has played on any team again?" Satoru asked, still staring at the door where he had left. 

Yuji shook his shoulders. “I think so, but I'm not sure. He never tells me anything.” 

“Captain, are you worried that Sukuna has been signed to another team?” Megumi asked. 

“A little, little he cared about the sanction they gave him last year when he broke Kamo’s fingers from Kyoto college.” Satoru sighed and looked at Suguru. “I'm afraid he won't care again and this time he'll do something to one of the team.” 

“He probably still has a lot of resentment from last year.” Suguru remembered this time and Satoru nodded heavily.

“Well…” Satoru stretched himself. “We will handle it once it comes, right?” He smiled. “Besides, we are the best. There is nothing to worry about.” 

Suguru chuckled and shook his head. "You're right. Now let's train guys." He said he and everyone got moving. 

But Satoru stayed in his place still feeling a little anguish in his stomach. Shaking his head, he walked onto the basketball court and began training with the rest of his teammates.

Final notes: Birdie and Satoru fixing everything, bc communication is the key. It always frustrates me when I read in a book or a series how things get complicated between the characters due to lack of communication, that's why I didn't want to prolong the small conflict between them and have them fix things like adults, talking.

— comment if you want to be tagged

🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @lolsasuke , @milk3evee , crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi

[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g.clarke

Chapter 4: Tough Day

Summary: The boys try and help Noa with a new project

Word Count: 1.2k+

Warnings: swearing, George being a dick (again)

Roughly a week or so had passed since Noa moved into her new apartment, and her hopes that George would warm up to her hadn’t been achieved yet.

Even though she spent most evenings with the boys, he would still only talk to her if the others were there, and whenever he could he avoided her at all costs.

It was beginning to bother Noa. She couldn’t understand why he was acting this way towards her, and after thorough discussions with his other roommates, they confirmed that she hadn’t done or said anything to cause this behaviour.

Luckily, Arthur Hill and her got on like a house on fire, and being one of the better housemates at DIY, he aided in building most of her new furniture whenever he wasn’t recording a video or working on his new song.

“So when’s it coming out? I feel as if I can only listen to the same sound bite before I go crazy.” Noa said, glancing up from her laptop to look at Arthur, who was sitting on her kitchen counter.

“Should be done in a couple of weeks, just trying to iron out the wrinkles and sort the bridge out.” He replied, taking a long swig of tea out of the mug that she had leant him. “What are you working on? I feel as I can hear your brain whirring.”

Noa grumbled and massaged her temples. It was moments like these that she wished she had an influencer job, with complete creative freedom and a flexible schedule, instead of her gruelling 9-6. “Trying to find as many different types of ancient column design as possible. Well, not too ancient because the clients want their building to look modern enough.”

Arthur gave her a sympathetic look. “You really are bottom of the food chain in your firm aren’t you?”

“Yep. That’s what you get when you’re the new kid, all the tasks that no one else wants.”

“But at least you’re not having to make coffee and do paperwork right?” He asked hopefully.

Noa raised her eyebrows at him. “Why do you think I’m having to do this at home, and not in the office.”

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed.” She muttered, scrolling through another page of Grecian inspired pillars. “Honestly, sometimes rich people have too much money to spend. I mean, who needs a foyer with the three types of alternating pillars, that match the fountains? Do you know how expensive that is Arthur?”

He winced. “I’m guessing a lot.”

“Correct.”

“Noa!” Chris yelled, swinging the door open. “You, me, George and the two Arthurs and the club. Yes?”

“Chris, it’s a Thursday night.”

“Exactly! Thursday night, do you have anything better to do?”

Noa blinked at him. “Be up in the morning with ample amount of sleep ready for work?”

“God I forget you have a boring actual job.”

“Someone has to remind you guys there’s an actual world out there.” She muttered, typing quickly on her computer, eyes widening as her stomach let out a low growl.

Chris and Arthur slowly turned their heads to look at her. “Okay, new plan. Order takeout and watch a movie?”

“I could be up for that.” She said quietly, absentmindedly chewing on the end of her pen, before going to jot down some notes. “Just need to finish working.”

Chris’ eyebrows raised. “And when will that be?”

“Before the end of time.” Noa said. “Or at least I hope so. I’ve gotta figure out the best combination of these pillars and then I’ll be done.”

“And how many combinations are there?”

“Well there’s eight main types, but then there’s different patterns within those. I might have actually lost count.”

Chris moved so that he could peer over Noa’s shoulder, and winced at the number of tabs open she had on her computer, as well as the scribbles that adorned her notebook.

“Gonna be honest. I’ve got no clue at what looks good. But I believe in you Noa, if anyone could figure it out it’s you.” He said reassuringly, patting her head. “Right, Hill let’s order food, at this point in time Noa will probably eat whatever we put in front of her, so what are we feeling up for?”

arthurhill

liked by arthurtv, maxbalegde and 28,039 others

arthurhill everyone drop your favourite pillars and columns to help with Noa’s latest design

Comments open

fan1 everyone knows the correct answer is doric

⮑ fan2 booo temple of winds supremacy

maxbalegde scared and confused at this comment section

⮑ noamurphy they’re all just architecture nerds like me

arthurtv correct answer is ionic

⮑ noamurphy no it isn’t I promise

⮑ arthurtv one day you’ll see

⮑ noamurphy sure. also we’re getting take out if you wanna join

⮑ arthurtv I am running to the elevator

fan3 noa in the ikea vlog is everything 😫🤌🤌🤌

⮑ fan4 she is a divine queen

⮑ fan3 her and George in the bed 🤌🤌

⮑ fan4 nooo that was the most forced and uncomfortable thing I couldn’t with it-

gkbarry_ we stan a hardworking queen

⮑ noamurphy love you boo

⮑ gkbarry_ okay now girlie take a break

“Okay Noa, maybe take Grace’s advice and stop? Surely it would be better to rest up and then be able to finish it when you’re not exhausted?” Chris asked gently, reaching to slide the laptop away from her grip.

Noa glared at him and swatted his hands away. “No Christopher. No.”

Chris gave her a stern look, only looking away when the door slammed open again, revealing Arthur Television in his pyjama trousers and hoodie. “Food, when?”

“The one with the law degree decides to speak like a caveman.” Chris muttered, shaking his head, as a much calmer George walked through the door.

Walking into her apartment, George was hit with the realisation that he’d never been in Noa’s apartment before - she’d always been at theirs, or if Chris and Arthur where heading down he’d give the excuse that he was busy planning videos.

He was pleasantly surprised. Well, he didn’t exactly know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t a light and airy apartment. Maybe he thought there would be neon lights everywhere, like the ones that adorned Chris’ room or stacks of books like Arthur.

The living room was cosy, and he recognised the two sofas that they had picked out in Ikea, as well as a plush rug, with a coffee table that matched the dining table and chairs. A couple of pictures adorned the walls, a simple beach watercolour as well as some cinematic shots of her playing football with Arthur and Chris.

His brow furrowed. Neither of them mentioned that she played, and since she’d arrived they had filmed a football video for Chris’ channel, but she didn’t take part. Surely if Noa was good enough to warrant her to have photos of her playing, then surely Chris would want that talent in his videos?

George cast his eyes to Noa, who was hunched over her laptop, still trying to finish the designs. Arthur TV sat next to her, and the pair were discussing which column designs worked the best together.

“Maybe that person was onto something bringing temple of winds into the conversation…what if you put them with some Doric pillars, then…” Arthur trailed off, stumped.

“You see? Finding two designs that go together is easy, but a third? A fucking third?” Noa sighed, resting her head on the keyboard.

“How rich are the clients, ie, what’s the budget?”

“Yeah, are they Ronaldo rich, or so rich that you’ve probably never heard of them?” Arthur Hill asked.

“The second one.” She muttered. “Which is why it has to be perfect, because they are paying us a lot.”

Noa sighed and pulled up the designs of the fountains that had been chosen. She studied them meticulously, trying to find a hint that could help her. Even though it was strenuous work, this was one of the reasons that loved designing buildings, once you found all the right pieces, it perfectly fell into place like a puzzle. It was incredibly satisfying, and seeing the final projects always made her heart swell with pride.

But this was really trying her patience. Why couldn’t she figure it out? It didn’t also help that she had a live audience watching her stress over it. “Do you know when the food’s getting here?”

“Should be about five minutes.”

“Thank god.”

“Oh never mind, the guys here.” Chris said, slipping his shoes on, that had been previously abandoned by the door. “Arthur can you help carry it?”

“Sure.” Both of them replied, following Chris out of the door, leaving George alone with Noa.

She was silently cursing the three that had just left, physically wishing all the curses and ailments upon them for leaving her with George. Who, was silently leaning against her kitchen counter.

George didn’t know what to do. Ever since the trip to Ikea he hadn’t been close to Noa again, not that he wanted to, but he wasn’t sure if he should mention it. Why should he? If she hadn’t mentioned it then surely she was fine, right?

Not that he even wanted to talk to her.

George couldn’t fully see into Noa’s room, most is it being blocked by the angle at which he was looking in, and from what he could tell, it was just like the rest of the apartment, except with more decorations. He wasn’t sure why, but he was curious about what was inside, how Noa had organised her bookcase, what perfumes she used, how she kept her jewellery, the way her plans laid out on her sketching desk.

And he didn’t know why.

As far as he was concerned he actively disliked Noa, and so he couldn’t fathom why a part of him was so interested in her, why he wanted to know the little details of her life.

Noa closed her eyes. She was genuinely considering giving up, but she knew she couldn’t. This had to be finished that evening so that it could be sent to her supervisor ready for the next morning. Pushing her chair back, she stood up and paced into her bedroom, unknown to her that George’s eyes followed her every step, hoping that one of her books would provide her with some inspiration.

But it wasn’t any of her architecture books that caught her eye. It was the battered copy of the third Percy Jackson book - it was her favourite of the series, and would read it religiously as a child. Partially, as a child it was her dream to become a Hunter of Artemis, and so she could read the book over and over again without tiring of it.

Somehow, this was the prompt she needed to let the puzzle pieces fall into place. “OH MY GOD!” She exclaimed, sprinting out of her room and skidding on the wooden floor to the table. Noa grinned whilst nearly destroying her keyboard at how quickly she was typing.

“FOOOOD!” Chris called, carrying the plastic bags and setting them down in front of Noa.

“Dude give me two minutes I’ve figured it out.”

“Really?” Arthur TV asked excitedly, pulling the chair next to her out, so he could see what she was working on. “Caryatids? Noa that’s genius! They match the f-“

“Fountains yeah, because they’ve got marble women carved into them, and so they’d match perfectly.”

“Have we ever said you’re a genius?” Chris asked, smiling proudly at her.

“Only when I do genius shit.”

[marvel-ous-m]

AO3 Link | WC: 19,416 | Rating: Mature | Chapters: 5 | Featuring: Steddie, Ronance, Mentioned Jargyle, Platonic Stobin, Gareth & Steve as Cousins | Written for @biclarity | Divider Credit

It was SUCH a pleasure to take on this project as a pinch hitter with @steddiesummerexchange - I absolutely loved exploring this little camp-counselor AU, and I hope that y'all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

Summary: Faced with no work for the summer, Robin gets the brilliant idea to apply to work at a summer camp for six weeks, and drags Steve right along with her.

Steve... really isn't sure what to expect. He's never even gone to camp before, he doesn't know the first thing about how to be a counselor.

Still, he agrees- mostly because he needs a source of income, and he's not about to let Robin leave him behind in Hawkins for a month and a half.

A few coincidences (and a little bad luck) finds Steve stuffing his cabin meant for 14 campers full of extra mattresses, so that it can hold a total of 24 campers, himself, and his counselor counterpart, who just so happens to be someone that he's run into once before: Eddie Munson.

Surely things can only go up from here?

Or, a summer camp fic filled with humor, fluff, and a few camp counselors falling in love.

Start of Chapter 1 below the cut!

“Oh my god, Robin, these shorts are worse than the ones we had at Scoops. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“It’s not like we had anything else to do this summer. Besides, we only have to wear the uniform for the first week, so suck it up.” She turned towards him and gave him a blinding smile. “For what it’s worth, the green shirt really compliments your eyes. Do you think that the bandana in my hair is too much?” 

Steve pouted at himself through the floor-length mirror he and Robin were standing in front of. The shorts were fucking short. Indecent, in his opinion, especially for a camp full of middle and early-highschoolers. 

He sighed, then glanced at Robin via her reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t help the smile that appeared when he noticed the pink bandana holding her hair back, making her look all bright and summer-y. “It looks great, Robs.”  

“Really? I just don’t want my bangs to get all sweaty and matted against my forehead, but I wasn’t sure how else to tame them.” 

“Seriously, it looks really nice. It’s cute.” Steve took a final look at himself in the mirror, grimacing at the uniformed, freshly-twenty-year-old staring back at him. Robin was right, obviously, they didn’t have any summer plans, but the idea of summer camp still sorta rubbed him the wrong way. 

Robin had been a camp kid, apparently. She had gone every summer in elementary school once she was old enough, then attended theater and band camps over her middle and highschool summers. 

Steve, however, just got left alone at home over the summer, told to busy himself by completing the summer reading for when school started in the Fall. His reading was always done by the third week of summer vacation, and he spent the rest of the weeks swimming laps in his pool, alone, or doing chores around the house, alone, or watching old television reruns, alone. Tommy came over sometimes, even brought Carol with him once they started dating, and things weren’t so bad after that. Still, it always felt like they were using him for his money and his pool, not because they actually wanted to hang out with him. 

Suffice to say, Steve doesn’t know the first thing about a summer-long sleepaway camp. 

There were a few things that were making the experience a bit less anxiety-inducing.  Robin would be there, obviously, and he was put in charge of supervising all water-related play, which was familiar territory. Robin was put in charge of crafts, which would certainly be interesting, given that she could barely even draw a recognizable stick figure. She insisted that camp crafts were just different, and Steve couldn’t exactly argue against that logic, seeing that he doesn’t even know what camp crafts were, so he just went along with her reasoning and hoped for the best. 

The gaggle of kids that he’d gotten to know over the past few years would also all be there as campers, which was odd, to say the least- especially considering how overprotective some of the kid’s parents were. 

(Joyce Byers came to mind as one such example, but in Steve’s opinion, her protectiveness was pretty justified. You don’t just get over your kid disappearing for a week, a child’s dead body being found in a river dressed in his clothing less than 48 hours later, then your actual son randomly being found at an abandoned cabin in the woods a week later with strange scars and no memory of what had happened.) 

It was shocking that the kids convinced their parents to let them go to camp, but Steve was pretty excited. There was even a chance he’d have some of them in his cabin, seeing as he was cabin lead for half of the 9th grade boys, but he also knew there was a greater-than-zero chance that they’d get split up between him and whoever his counterpart was for the other cabin of 9th grade boys. 

He didn’t have a list of the other counselors yet, so he wasn’t sure who this ‘counterpart’ would be. Robin said they would distribute packets with that information on arrival at camp. Robin had also said that it was common for past camp kids to become junior counselors when they aged out of the program, then go on to be senior counselors and stick around through college, and seeing as Steve didn’t exactly hang out with that kinda crowd in school, he doubted that he’d know anyone. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, fluffing his bangs in the hopes of at least letting his best feature shine in this job, as opposed to the gig at Scoops with that stupid hat. “Do you remember what time we have to get there today?” 

“Uhhh, I think three? Then we’ll have an hour to set up our bed stuff, training and dinner ‘til nine, then training tomorrow and Friday, kids arrive Saturday.” Robin rambled out the information as she applied her mascara in the mirror, shooting a smile at Steve when she was done. 

“Three?! Robin, it’s already noon! How far away is this place?” 

“Oh, right. It’s uh… about three hours?” Robin’s timid response had Steve groaning and grabbing her arm so that he could pull her away from the mirror, tugging her towards his bed where their bags were lying.

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta go, like, now. I have to stop for gas on the way, so we’re already late, which really isn’t a good look, not for our first day.” 

Robin gave an exaggerated sigh, but still complied, opening her gray duffle bag that was lying next to Steve’s green one so that she could shove her makeup and other last-minute things inside. From the corner of his eye, Steve could see various colors of fabric peeking out from underneath her toiletries.

“Are you serious? How many bandanas did you pack?” 

“I need a different color for every day of the week, Steve! If this is gonna be my summer look, I’ve gotta commit, you know?” 

“Birdie, I love you, but that’s a little ridiculous.” Steve grabbed his duffle bag from the bed and began walking towards the stairs leading to the front door, smiling to himself as Robin’s indignant squawking began while she trailed behind him. 

This was sure to be an interesting summer. 

Continue Reading

[intergalactic-garbage]

octavian wet cat headcanons

@odysseus-crewmate-number38 and i have decided that there has been enough of rick's writing which transparently only made octavian an object onto which to project hate, rather than a character. because i am the sexiest and smartest person on the planet, i understand octavian better than rr, and know that what he is actually meant to be is a traditionally queer-coded, camp, homosexual villain, who enjoys being a villain immensely. the following are a compilation of ody and mine's absolutely true and fully verified octavian facts (he told me):

his little augur rituals are like drag performances

in which i don't means he dresses up in drag but rather that he's exaggerated and dramatic

he does the thing where he rubs his grubby little hands together

he's the type to say "well well well look what the cat dragged in"

light in the office opens dramatically as octavians spinny chair turns to the door

’i’ve been expecting you’

he’s done this 12 times already

he says the same name of. the person who hes been expecting. he eventually is right

WHY does octavian's wiki page say his ancestors are VENUS, JUPITER (also apollo obviously) and. a bunch of mortal guys like hercules? what the fuck. guy must be so inbred

his ancestory is just the olympus family tree

but i mean he's a legacy of venus so that explains everything. he's just suffering from a terminal amount of prettyboy syndrome

octavian would wear so much gold. 90 pounds soaking wet 138 pounds with all his robes and jewelery on

he'd get things covered in gold leaf just because he can

his closet takes up the space of like three entire barracks of the cohort

‘where did the funding for the new buildings in camp jupiter go’ . new suspiciously closet shaped building implemented:

BRO COMMITS EMBEZZLEMENT JUST SO HE CAN BUY NEW OUTFIT

not that he doesn't already have enough money. he just likes doing it like this

nobody else is allowed to touch his clothing though. high treason actually

one of his henchmen (bryce) can bc he knows exactly how to handle it and which setting on the washing machine to use with which detergent

oh he’d watch the devil wears prada and base his personality on the boss from that movie

his room has a shrine dedicated to meryl streep actually .reyna accidentally walks in on him once and sees him praying to her. they never talk about it

octavian could deify miranda if he tries hard enough

oh my goddd. do you think his biggest internal conflict during hoo would be "can a girl like me really have more than ONE evil henchman?"

how is he going to strut down the halls in an iconic triad formation if he only has ONE henchman . he has to follow in his ancestors footsteps (heather chandler, chanel oberlein, regian george-)

his henchman no1 is michael kahale, son of venus, who's canonically fit as fuck and pretty close to octavian, headcanonically a gayboy who rolls his eyes and sips his starbucks drink waaaay too loudly when people he doesn't like are talking (he does this in the senate meetings)

his henchman no2 is bryce lawrence, legacy of orcus, god of punishment, who was canonically banished from camp jupiter bc he killed someone, but in boo, octavian takes him back. he's supposed to be really big and burly, with some "traditionally unattractive" traits (which i've decided to allow, as long as michael and octavian call them pretty in a totally infatuated way)

edit: someone said that since he doesn't have a last name, it should be octavian gallo (since it means rooster), and i'm making that canon now

[respectthepetty]

10 QL Girls I Want Carnally

Because @twig-tea hit me with the tag in their 10 QL People I Want Carnally list sprinkled with women as @negrowhat requested, let me slide up in here to show some appreciation for only the ladies because the amount of GLs we have leaves me thirsty, and these women look like a beautiful stream in the dusty desert.

Honorable Mention - Namtan's Characters [Pluto]

I don't understand the plot of this upcoming series. Namtan is playing twins and one or both of them love May (played by Film). Full disclosure here, I don't give a fuck about the plot because I'm going to watch it regardless. I'm always showing up for Namtan (and Film and Clize). When I'm being offered beautiful women in a GL plot, I do not question the gifts God bestows on me.

Honorable Mention - Jung One [She's Makes My Heart Flutter]

Fucking Korea and its short ass shows! I only had this precious babygirl for one hour, and I would murder for her. I would treat her so well that she would never feel nervous about another thing in her whole life. She is like Jim from Moonlight Chicken, just trying to help her niece and run her bar, but I'll be like Wen and WORK FOR FREE because that's how much I want to be in her bed warming her up at night. Money ain't the only way to pay me for my services.

Hydration Station

Maya & Rose [Laws of Attraction]

Choke me. Maya AND Rose are my ideal throuple with me being the third. Silvy had me hot and bothered in her scenes with Joong and New in The Warp Effect (bisexual reawakening), and Organ had me hot for mommy in Never Let Me Go, so Laws of Attraction giving me both in a Be Gay, Do Crime plot was heaven sent. Watching them manipulate and beat up men, knowing they were going home to each other is the energy I need from all my GL plots.

Yuna [Semantic Error]

She rides a bike and has beanies for every occasion. She'd let me wear her hoodies. She'd let me wear her beanies. She let me ride her bike. She'd let me ride her. Her entire demeanor lets me know what's up without her even having to open her mouth, and I've already signed up for a two-month subscription before I even approach her. Whatever she wants to do, I'm down whenever including going down wherever.

Tee [GAP]

Let me say this with my full chest "FUCK, SAM!" If I was Mon, as soon as Tee would've asked my name, it would have been "Sam, who?" because TEE COULD GET IT! I'd let Tee fuck me in front of all her friends and God on that table. Tee's game was unmatched. No hate to Sam being inexperienced, but Tee obviously knew thangs and was more than willing to share her knowledge, anytime, any day, anyway. *bites knuckles*

Phai [My Dear Gangster Oppa]

I don't fuck with cops. But . . . girl definitely knows how to use handcuffs. And the way she always told Muffin to shut up did things to my sacral chakra that told me that even though I don't fuck with the police, I would 100%, without a doubt, fuck the police(woman).

Proud [7 Project]

This is going to be a theme in this list because I don't just want Proud from 7 Project, who deserved so much better than that horrible story. I want Samantha, the person who played Proud. Sammy has been in everything for a solid decade now. She deserves the lead already, and I deserve to watch her and those beautiful lips of hers make out with another girl again! 2024, do me and my girl right.

Luna [Sleep with Me]

She has problems sleeping. Like an actual medical diagnosis. Not even trying to take away from the seriousness of her condition but . . . I've heard intensive physical activity is good for sleep. I'd be more than willing to test this scientific theory out by fucking all night long. It couldn't be just once though. In order to prove a theory, we'd have to do it a couple of times. I'm great at pulling all-nighters and being an enthusiastic participant for *science*

Cher [GAP]

GAP gave me so many beautiful women, and all of them were mean to Sam. Blessed. But my favorite Mean Girl was Cher. I had her for only a few seconds, but I would leave my SO on vacation if I saw her walking through the resort. Her AND her girlfriend could get it. Call me. Beep me. If you wanna reach me.

Ray [Club Friday]

This bitch was crazy. And I. Loved. It. But playing crazy is apparently what this actress does best.

As Ray, she was wildin' out trying to have a baby between her husband, her husband's boyfriend, and her ex-girlfriend, and as Anthika in Midnight Museum, she was wildin' out trying to resurrect the savior. And you know what? I would proudly stand next to her and commit queer wrongs every day instead of demanding she come to her senses if it meant she was making me come every night. Ooookay.

Mayris [The Sign]

Is she open to a two-night stand with a girl? I don't know, but I'm sure the hell gonna try to persuade her.

Ink [Bad Buddy]

There is a reason everyone loved her in that show. In Magic of Zero, Pa was trying her damndest to get Ink to remember her, and girl, same. If I had a girl like Ink, I would be the brattiest bitch. I'd pout until she gave me all of her attention. I'd be pissy if she even looked at someone else. I'd want her all to myself and she'd have to lose her job because I'd keep her in the bed ALL DAY. Well, not the bed. We could pull a Pat and Pran and fuck on the couch, the kitchen counter, and outside after drinking.

The One to Rule Them All

Sine Inthira, the person, not the character.

I want this woman carnally. She could tell me to shut up in front of my friends and God, and I WOULD DO IT! She could say something that went against all my feminist beliefs, and I would not give one fuck. I would ruin my life for this woman. I would be peak toxic for this woman. Why The Eclipse cast her as the teacher and tried to make me feel bad for Khao's character was the rudest thing to ever happen in my bisexual existence, but I know where my heart lies because I was telling Ayan to shut the fuck up and let my beautiful angel speak.

LOOK AT HER! If y'all ever hear of an American sitting in a Thai jail after chasing after this woman, know that American is me because my ass will not be sane if I see her in person.

I'm only tagging one person in this list of women I want carnally.

💙Daddy💙

@dribs-and-drabbles, I'd love to know who you want helping you break in that bed after you move it in this weekend. You've been so focused on shared clothing when all I want to know is whose do you want to take off.

[writingsofwesteros]

So Sorry I really got carried away. I'm not sure if I send this, you'll still accept this request.

But can I also ask for Oberyn Martell x Targaryen reader, who works in a brothel to survive.

Her beauty attracts many people, both women and men.

She is finally handed over to Oberyn, and upon seeing the Valyrian princess, he's not sure if he wants to kill her or take her in every corner of the room.

AN: Hi, no, it was a great request! I hope you like it x

NSFW

You had heard the whispers; a prince of the sand was visiting the capitol. One with desires far out weighing even the little Lannister. You knew your history well; it was why you had chosen a veil over your hair. From the distance; you would look like a Lannister bastard as long as nobody saw your eyes…as long as he didn’t see them.

The see through slip of a material was placed over your washed and scented body. Thankfully, after the many years of being here; there was money that could be spent on you. Pearls were dotted around your neck and wrists; even in your hair as you were guided towards the room for presentation. 

The sound of your heart was pounding in your ears as you placed your hands behind your back and clasped them. The nerves were rolling off you in waves and you prayed for any Gods that still had mercy on you that they would answer. “Prince Oberyn has arrived.” The words seemed to seal your fate.

You slowly ducked your head; not realising the shyness you were projecting out would be all the more tempting. “Hmm, you have a stunning collection.” You heard his voice. So deep..gods, it sounded like wine. Shivers ran down your spine and you couldn’t choose if it was fear or something else.

“I am wanting only one on one action…I know it's surprising.” You heard the laughter at his words. Still, you were nervous and you began to play with your pearl ring fingers. A Goddess of purity; it was laughable. It seemed your laughter was not as silent as you had hoped it would be. Soon, the bright orange colours were in front of you.

“And who are you?” Oberyn hummed; amusement in his tone as he gently reached for your face. The silence moved through the room as you only stared at both of your feet. “Leave us.” Relief flooded you as you slowly backed away. A chuckle sounded out and his hold only tightened. “Not you.”

You gulped as you heard the sounds of feet moving and then were soon becoming quieter and quieter. “Hmm, are you shy, little one..is that it?” Oberyn purred and gods, you wished that was it. “No…No, my prince.” You remembered your politeness and slowly stepped back. In that movement; he tugged at your veil.

The gasp that escaped the both of you was almost comical if the fear gripping you was not so tight. “Targaryen…” Obern snapped. His deep, dark eyes so cold as you stepped back once more. “You are supposed to be dead.” His cold words continued and you fought against the whimper rising inside you but soon; it fell out.

It was as if a switch went off in the Prince and his eyes were slowly moving over your body. The sight alone had you shivering. Fuck, you were stunning, the Prince thought once the shock had worn off. His heart twitched for a moment at the thought of such a Princess in a place like this. He imagined you had been here for years.

“I will not hurt you.” Oberyn whispered; surprising himself with his words and the truth behind them. As much as you wanted to; you could not trust his words even as his touch stayed gentle. It could all be a trap, you thought. Still, like a doe instead of a dragon; all you could do was stand still.

He scolded himself at the feel of his fat cock throbbing. Gods, he should not be feeling this way for a dragon. No matter how pretty she was. The slip of a dress hardly covered you and Oberyn feasted. “I promise.” Oberyn continued as he stepped closer and this time you remembered your place and stayed still.

He couldn’t help himself; the Prince found himself reaching for your hair. His fingers brushed through it. A near flinch came over you as you tried to fight it but the Prince noticed and for a moment he became sympathetic. It did not last long as the hunger he had felt only built inside him.

Oberyn could not help himself. He leaned in and soon his lips were attached to your own. Your eyes widened before you remembered this was your job; your existence. Of course he would be no better. His hand slowly moved down your side as he brought you against his chest. “Oberyn..” You whimpered out.

The Princes’ eyes flashed and his already dark eyes moved even darker. The kiss only became more passionate. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip as the whimpers continued to escape you some more. His hand moved to the back of your neck as he gently guided you towards the wall.

His touch was only becoming greedier now as his mind flashed with memories; darker ones coming forth. “Gods, you are stunning.” Oberyn whispered and hated himself for it as his hands slowly palmed your breasts. “I might just have to steal you away.” The prince continued as his hand moved to his own pants.

Your eyes widened and he nearly groaned as his cock was bouncing free. He was not going to take any chances of this being ruined. Your heart was racing in your ears as you subtly rubbed your thighs together. It was not subtle enough as Oberyn’s smirk only widened. “Hmm, it seems I really did find a whore.”

His chuckle turned dark as he watched you blush. It was only a moment later with you gasping out as he pushed his fat, leaking cock inside you. “Still so tight.” He taunted. He stretched you deliciously as your whines of pleasure escaped. Usually, the sounds you made were fake and obscene but your eyes were rolling with true pleasure now.

Oberyn pushed deeper and you were wrapping your legs around his waist before you knew it; pulling him close. His hips slowly began to rock now as he burrowed into your neck; it was as if he could pretend it was someone else he was fucking. Those thoughts alone had him quickening his pace.

Your face prettily began to screw up in pleasure; thanking all the Gods he had not decided on killing you. His groans of pleasure had your fingers moving through his locks as your bodies clashed so prettily against each other. “Too deep..so..” You gasped out; head falling back onto the wall.

Oberyn only hummed; his thrusts becoming harder as his stomach tightened in pleasure. Fuck, he’d claim you here and now. Your soft, ample breasts bounced as you began to clamp around his cock. “Are you going to cum so quickly?” Oberyn hummed; nibbling on your neck as he marked you. Your climax easily came over you then.

[angellayercake]

I'm seeing your Bioshock posting. Any project your working on that's related?

(I'm excited I love Bioshock)

Thank you very much for noticing!! I have been pretty obsessed with Bioshock and Rapture since I played it last year and then I had a brainwave about how similar the descriptions of Meliora is to the concept (not the reality iykyk) of Rapture.

So below the read more are some of my rambling thoughts. This may turn into a fic one day or it may just stay an idea but who knows? I have included no spoilers for either Bioshock or Bioshock 2 storylines as most of this takes place pre Raptures construction.

source

So Jen, you might ask, how would Terzo even be invited to Rapture in the first place? Doesn't Ryan hate religion? Why would Terzo even want to be there?

And I have a very extensive answer for you! (after you chose with me to ignore all dates in canon because for this we need Terzo in his late 20s/30s in the 1920s)

To begin I must explain my headcanon for how the Ministry and the Clergy works. The Ministry was founded in opposition to the rise of the Catholic church in Italy. They opposed the strict and cruel ways the Christian church and wanted to offer an alternative and a sanctuary to those mistreated and maligned. Their numbers grew until they were noticed and forced to flee Italy.

They found a home in rural Sweden, taking advantage of the overwhelming rise of Protestantism and there they stayed, biding their time and increasing their ranks. Their congregation grew so large that were starting to struggle to sustain themselves so the Clergy came out with a plan. The Projects were different businesses, outreach and recruitment efforts to build revenue and attract the rich and successful to their cause and it worked! They were truly self sustaining and starting to have influence in important places but the Clergy understood that they were playing the long game.

Which brings us nicely to New York in 1922. Terzo Emeritus, third son of the reigning Papa has been assigned to set up a speakeasy to make the most of the Prohibition movement. His goal is to make a load of money and convert as many sinners as he can find. He sets up his 'dance hall' which is actually his House of Sin. There are cocktails and dancers and escorts and cross dressers and all the outcasts and freaks that aren't welcome anywhere else. It gains a cult reputation as a wonderland where anything goes, seemingly built from nothing into the most inclusive yet exclusive club in New York.

Andrew Ryan begins frequenting the place, not because he has tastes for anything other than a pretty girl but because he respects their ethos. He has respect for anyone who disregards laws and social norms and make their own rules. He is made to feel welcome as do any of the rich and powerful that frequent the club, not because Terzo necessarily like them but because part of his work there is to recruit powerful people to the Church. He welcomes them personally, brings them the best men or women that they might desire, keeps the drinks and smokes flowing freely until he can bring the conversation around to politics, morals and values so he can see how receptive they might be to the Ministry's teachings.

With Ryan though he barely has to push, almost as if he had come to investigate Terzo's views and opinions for himself. He finds a like mind in Ryan, someone who sees the flaws in society and how they could be improved. He finds himself talking about Meliora openly much to his surprise, the gleaming metropolis of his imagination where people are restrained by the petty and the inconsequential, where the seven deadly sins are celebrated and encouraged.

He fears he slips up bringing his religion into his ramblings but Ryan is unaffected by the revelations. He asks directly if Terzo worships the Devil and when he says yes the response he receives is surprisingly respectful. Ryan doesn't believe in God so equally he doesn't believe in the Devil but if he had to pick between the two the one who would earn his regard is the one who chose His own path and didn't just blindly obey. They spend many a night discussing the possibilities of such a place well into the early hours neither of them sure that such a place would ever exist.

Time went on and the world changed. Prohibition ends and the club goes legitimate. Slowly but surely wider society begins to take notice of their live and let live policy and not liking it at all. What was once the place to be seen becomes the place an upstanding member of society would never be seen. Business dwindles as the depression takes hold and by the time the rumblings of the Second World War reach the US they close their doors for good. Terzo returns to the Ministry and to Europe, serving the Clergy in a much more traditional capacity, that is until in 1946 he receives an invitation from an old friend.

source

It takes a hell of a lot to convince the Clergy to let him go, most of them writing off this supposed underwater metropolis impossible. Eventually though the curiosity and ambition win out and they allow him to go but only with a company of ghouls to keep him out of trouble and who have the abilities to get him out if the worst were to happen, most leaning towards the roof caving in under the pressure of the ocean.

Rapture is almost everything he imagined Meliora to be. The grandiose architecture, neon lights and atmosphere of excitement. The only difference was the underwater setting. It was fascinating, the low blue glow coming from all of the countless windows. Wherever he went he would find himself captivated by the swaying plants on the seabed, the schools of fish or the dark shadow of a whale passing by. The longer he stays the more he starts to forget, until he looks out the window and is reminded all over again of the fascinating place he lives.

source & source

He slips back into his old life so easily, finding many familiar faces from the social circles of New York making up the elite of Rapture. He secures a place in Fort Frolic and goes about recruiting the most beautiful and hedonistic people he can find to work at his club. Anything goes there as is the case with a lot of things in rapture and it becomes so popular that Ryan even sends his mistress to work with him when she isn't spending time with him. Everything is perfect for a time but if you have played the games then you know what is coming next.

But for now I think I will leave it there. I have a lot of ideas about how he tackles some of the issues that grow within Rapture but if this becomes a fully fledged fic I will save those for that. I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings and I would love to hear others thoughts and ideas if you have any!! I will leave you with the below quotes which were where I started with this so give them a read would you kindly?

The world since he was last seen has changed. Called Moloch by some, the great industrial machine has been grinding away, grinding everything and everyone down in the process. Spies are everywhere. Their eyes are behind the screens of your televisions and devices, their ears attentive to every frequency in the air. Everything is mediated, pre-packaged, and pressure sealed, your lives preordained. From the cradle to the grave, the world moves along as if there is free will, but this is the grandest illusion. There is no power beyond that which the all-seeing eye controls. The gods are all dead. Even art is pure commodity. But some still fight, quietly at first, but soon they will rise and make the glorious noise of the ancients, donning their masks, these nameless ghouls led by Papa Emeritus III. - Source

To build a city at the bottom of the sea! Insanity. But where else could we be free from the clutching hand of the Parasites? Where else could we build an economy that they would not try to control, a society that they would not try to destroy? It was not impossible to build Rapture at the bottom of the sea. It was impossible to build it anywhere else. Source

"We would sit down to studying exciting Futurist manifestos, sketched the blueprints of utopian metropoles, spiked with shiny skyscrapers stabbing at the heavens belly… Wantonly swollen zeppelins would to carry our gospel of indulgence to the farthest corners of the globe to summon and enslave. (…) Forged in nostalgia of steam and fire, this brave new world of ambition, vice, lust and greed - all so inherent to the enlightened modernity, was always with him through all these years. And it is now - when our church continues to grow stronger and wealthier under wise reign of Papa Emeritus III -  that these visions may finally be witnessed and embraced in the preaching's of  'Meliora’ - his most contemporary and humane Encyclical.” - Source

source

I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well. Source

[katerinaaqu]

Philoctetes inspirations 2

A random dialog as a sequel to this: Philoctetes Inspirations . A tiny dedication to @nikoisme before I finish with some other projects. It is a quikie that I am writing on the spot so forgive me the mistakes it was a random inspo! ^_^

Moaning in pain the old man Philoctetes was assisted by Neoptolemous to the ramp of the ship. Odysseus was standing at the deck with his arms folded across his chest as Diomedes stood tall by his side.

"There he comes..." said Odysseus

The two new passengers eventually climbed upon the ship. Diomedes stared longer than what he should that thin and beaten up body with his foot wrapped up in a dirty bandage. He was nothing but a lad at that time they ensembled the ships and they abandoned this man to Lemnos and yet from the little he could remember, he remembered a vigorous middle-aged man, quite similar to his partner, Odysseus. Now this man was prematurely aged; his hair had turned white like snow, his limbs were nothing but skin and bone and both his beard and his hair were growing wildly and tangled beyond recognition. His hairy body was already beaten up by the elements but now that he was also half-naked and miserable, made Diomedes almost lower his gaze. It was the first time he came before the consequences of everyone's actions, including the decision to leave this man behind. He looked at Odysseus. How could he look so calm and steadfast? Some sailors arrived to assist Neoptolemous (earning some glares from the old man, who seemed reluctant to leave Neoptolemous)

"Bring him in," Odysseus ordered, "his wounds shall be taken care of back at Troy"

Philoctetes glared at him (with a look that if it were a knife, Odysseus would be striken dead already)and spat at his feet. Odysseus barely moved his foot, as if he wanted to avoid to get his sandals dirty.

"Just when I thought we started to get along..." he whispered

Diomedes had come to know him long enough to know that his sarcasm was fake. He was as disturbed as he was and yet for some reason this annoing calmness of his on the outside seemed all the more infuriatng.

"Is he gonna be alright?" he dared to ask the elder man

"He's gonna be fine..." Odysseus mumbled absent-mindedly,"we have good healers back in Troy now and they will take care of him now that they know the gods are holding the same opinion on the matter. He will be fine"

"But not thanks to you!"

The young voice full of anger and contempt made them both turn around and see the young Neoptolemous glaring daggers at them. His eyes seemed to be spitting out fire (thus now making perfect sense why he got the nickname Pyrrus in the first place. Even Odysseus seemed surprised by his sudden hostility, for the child was pretty obedient so far.

"What do you mean?" Diomedes asked

"Stop it!" Odysseus said warningly

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Neoptolemus ignored him

"Tell me what?"

"I said, enough!" Odysseus said once more

"He was ready to abandon him again!" Neoptolemus said in an accusing manner, "he said as long as he had the bow, he didn't need him anymore!"

"Odysseus, what is he saying?"

"That's not how it happened!" The man of many wiles retorted

"We both heard you!" Philoctetes now barged in as if he wanted to hammer the nail in the coffin, "you said it would be child's play to master my bow! You are lucky that Heracles came to me and that I do not wish this boy to rot under your evil deeds!"

"You stay out of this!" Odysseus warned him

He had enough already in his head. He didn't need an entire entourage against him too much more turning Diomedes against him and succeeding no less! Philoctetes spat again.

"You shall keep me silent no more you spineless bastard spawn of Sisiphus! Your flesh costs not even the money your father gave to the slave bazaar to buy you!"

And then for the first time Diomedes saw Philoctetes cower away before Odysseus for the man had practically pounced on him with his finger inches apart from the man's eye. Diomedes made an instinctual move to get closer because it almost seemed like Odysseus was ready to pull it out.

"Listen you rotten scoundrel!" Odysseus whispered dangerously, "you can say whatever you want about me, but keep my father out of this! You shall not taint the name of Laërtes with your fork tongue again or by all gods let me not be called father of dear Telemachus if I do not chop your good foot off and let you crawl on the ground like the serpent you are! Do you understand?"

"Now do not threaten the man, Odysseus" Neoptolemus said again

He seemed totally changed. As if some evil spirit had possessed him on Lemnos. Perhaps I was too harsh with him, Odysseus thought, and the pressure I put to the youth has made him lose faith in me.

"We both heard you"

"Odysseus" Diomedes pulled him up again, "it is true isn't it?"

"Of course not!" Odysseus cried out in anger, "I was bluffing! It was the only way to make this damn savage to move! I was bluffing so that he would come along!"

Diomedes knew him enough to notice he was lying. Or at least that he wasn't perfectly honest. His eyes turned cold.

"May I talk to you for a minute?"

Odysseus knew he wasn't really asking. He was almost demanding. Rather unwillingly he followed the younger man at the beach away from the commotion created upon the deck.

"What?" He asked annoyed when they were alone

"Tell me this isn't true. Tell me you knew he was going to follow!"

Odysseus rolled his eyes.

"No" he admitted, "I didn't KNOW...I was hoping though"

"Hoping?!" Diomedes asked in disbelief, "you were hoping?!"

"I wasn't gonna wait ten more years for the old man to be cooperative if that is what you are asking!" Odysseus replied almost unapologetic, "I thought I could trick him upon realizing it was in his best interest to follow!"

Diomedes laughed in disbelief. It was a dry,humorless laugh.

"You're unbelievable! You would leave him alone AGAIN if he didn't tag along is that what you are saying"

"I wasn't gonna BEG him if that's what you are asking!"

"Does anything matter to you anymore? Do words 'compassion' and 'repent' mean nothing to you?"

"Don't you dare lecture me on compassion Diomedes!" Now it was Odysseus's turn to retaliate, "if it weren't for me you would be now ten feet under the ground by the Trojans you wouldn't stop slaying!"

"Oh now it is MY problem?!"

"I didn't say that"

"Then WHAT did you say?! Would you leave ME behind then?"

"Enough!"

"Or what? Shall I head to the cave next?"

"Listen here, boy!" Odysseus growled

He had remained kind way too long, he presumed. This relentless pounding was enough! He didn't need more enemies to guard his back from! Not now that they had the keys to finish the damn war!

"Do not challenge me!"

"Oh so now you do what all the others do? You will start treat me like an inexperienced boy like everybody else treats me?"

"Diomedes come back to your senses! You forget yourself! Do not cross me any further!"

"Oh yeah? We're gonna do this now? Come on then! Come on!"

Diomedes drew his sword.

"Don't be foolish!"

"Or what? Are you scared? I fought a war when I was 14! What did you do? You got yourself gushed up by some wild pig!"

"Now listen you bastard!" Odysseus's eyes darkened with dangerous anger, "you shall speak in insolence no more!"

"Then come on! Show me what you've got, king of Ithaca! Come on!"

Odysseus brought his hand to his hip and half-drew his bronze sword out as well but then as if a cloud was lifted from his face he halted his moves. What are we doing? He thought. This didn't make any sense. None of that made sense. He pulled his sword back in his sheath.

"No" he said huskily, "this isn't right. I shall not fight you! Not over something insignificant as this conversation! Cool off and come back to the ship"

He turned his back at him and began walking towards the direction of the sea. However Diomedes was far from done. He was far from cooling off. He was still shivering and boiling with anger.

"You, asshole!"

With speed given to him only by the adrenaline that can be provided by anger and fury, Diomedes rushed at the elder king and all Odysseus could do was to turn around in surprise and before he had time to breathe he was seized by the shirt by Diomedes's strong hand and the next thing he knew was that his feet barely touched the sand below; barely tiptoe away from being completely hanging off the ground and then his face was against Diomedes's and his sword threatening over his head.

"Dammit! Gods!" He cried out

He felt the younger male's breath against his face as he was huffing and puffing in anger. The king of Ithaca found his composure pretty fast.

"I didn't want to leave him behind again" he whispered emphatically, "but I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life waiting for him to decide either!Not now that we are so close to finish this damn war!"

He saw some anger evaporating by the younger man's face.

"You know it better than I do, Diomedes, we must do what we can to finish it! This lasted long enough already! And we have done already too much to be spoken on. We cannot let all our effort be gone now! We must remain united and trust each other now more than ever! Do you understand?"

Silence.

"Do you?" He repeated

Diomedes took a few moments before answering.

"You are right, of course" he admitted bitterly, "we need to get done with this farse"

"Right"

"And we both did things much worse than that"

"Quite"

"I understand that alright"

"Good"

"Good..." the argive king replied, "however if you dare to pull such a trick again or on me...I will kill you!"

A light smirk crept to the lips of the king who was called "equal to Gods"

"Noted" he said, "can you put me down now?"

Diomedes blinked in realization and he finally allowed the shorter king to place both feet to the ground and put his sword back in place.

"Bastard..." Odysseus mumbled dusting himself off, "you must work on your temper"

"I don't wanna hear this from you!" Diomedes laughed

"Better believe it. Next time you won't be so lucky"

"Excuse me?" Diomedes said scandalized, "did you honestly think you were gonna win this?"

Odysseus's onyx eyes sparkled mischievously.

"You didn't feel the knife, didn't you?"

"What knife?"

One movement of Odysseus's brow made him look towards that direction and sure enough there was a tiny hole to his cloth to the lower stomach right beside the navel. Odysseus twisted one knife to his hand before hiding it somewhere inside his armband.

"You asshole!" Diomedes didn't know if he had to feel impressed or offended

"Don't expect everyone to flash out at you, boy" Odysseus said as a matter of fact, "it might be the last mistake you shall make!"

Then his eyes turned serious as if a cloud had shadowed the sun.

"I shall not be killed here, Diomedes" he said dead serious, "not even by you! I shall survive to see my home again. Don't you think for a moment that I will hesitate!"

Diomedes gulped a bit. Yes he believed that. But so was himself after all. So he could understand his mentor's sentiment.

"Bastard!" He finally said smirking at Odysseus's back as he had started walking to the ship

"Takes one to know one!" Odysseus moved two fingers in greeting without looking back

Diomedes chuckled in defeat following him.

Yes.. it truly did

***

Hehehe sorry guys this is a random thing and it is four in the morning hahaha sorry if it doesn't make much sense hahahaha 😅

So basically according some other accounts in which Diomedes was the one to persuade Philoctetes and refused to leave him behind I thought again to make a small mix and make Diomedes retaliate.

Also a random fight done by tension and all.

I do not support the version that Odysseus is indeed son of Sisiphus but rather that Philoctetes uses the rumor to insult Odysseus

Somehow I found this as a connection to my other fanfiction "Guilt" in which Neoptolemus is hostile to Odysseus

[etaindelaserna]

Can I ask from this ask game : https://www.tumblr.com/toomanyfandomsthings/749729499738996736/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-tell-you?source=share

No. 2, 10, 11, 12, 15 for Dramione, KakaSaku and SukuIta....Thanks 🌻

Dramione

No 2. Draco's love letters are written on the best pergament one can buy with gold. In addition he has made an effort to charm them to smell like freshly mown grass, because he knows how much Hermione adores the smell. His impeccable handwriting and phrasing are meant to turn these letters into literary pieces of grandeur about the nature of love and how obessed he his with Hermione and when she is finally going to marry him BUT in reality they are discussions about charm and potion theories, books they think the other should read and A LOT OF arguing about the practical application of said theories. There is still a lot of flirting and teasing on Draco's part, which never fails to either make Hermione almost explode or smile with the hint of a blush on her face. Hermione takes her responses very seriously and thus they are always too long, which in return causes Draco to point out, that she had made her point already 3 pages earlier. Since Hermione doesn't really get the hint that Draco is indulging her with these discussions, he at one point had started to include book pressed flowers with his letters. He even extended that to her most read books in the library.

No. 10. They are united by their love for adventure and fantasy shows that have either a certain storytelling or entertainment quality to them. They watched Game of Thrones, Vampire Diaries (of course comparing these vampires and werewolves to the real deal), Westworld, The Walking Dead (but only till season 5), Once Upon a Time (they're both intrigued by how mystical magic is portrayed), Stranger Things, Charmed, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, True Blood, Xena, The Witcher and American Gods. They tried to watch Outlander but Draco was annoyed that Hermione seems to get awefully quiet every time Jamie smiled or smirked or was shirtless, so Hermione watched Outlander, Spartacus and Rome on her own. Draco on the other hand was hiding from her Band of Brothers, Homeland, House of Cards and The Pacific.

No. 11. Draco's first impression of Hermione was, that she seems to be just as snotty and aristocratic in the way she carries herself as he was but without the name or reputation to back it up. She thought too highly of herself, her opinions and seemed to think she was better than anyone else. She seemed to only help others if it benefited her. Hermione thought Draco to be just another rich brat, who thinks Daddy's money is going to solve all of his problems instead of working hard.

No. 12. They don't talk about it, athough Draco is dropping hints and he wants to negotiate what they are going to do for their anniversary, but Hermione says, she's too busy and whatnot. In the end Draco kidnaps her. They are visiting Versailles and the Louvre and he schedules an interview with one of Hermiones favourite authors. Hermione feels guilty for not realizing how much this day means to him and allwos him to take her to a fancy restaurant. Afterwards they take a walk along the Seine and they dance and laugh and drink a bottle of wine. She tells him, she loves him and kisses him and in response he asks her if they now can start working on "Project Baby".

No. 15. Sometimes Hermione whised Draco wasn't so high and mighty but then he wouldn't be Draco and she wouldn't be able to tease him about it. Draco sometimes whished Hermione wasn't so god damn selfless all the time, he whished she would take more care of herself instead of sacrificing everything for everyone.

KakaSaku

No. 2. Kakashi's love letters are basically just post-its or random torn-off pieces of paper which Sakura finds EVERYWHERE: on her desk, her drawer, the fridge, among her medical supplies, sailing out of her clothes or stuck to her backpack. They mostly contain one or two sentences, sometimes just a word or a doodle. But the most emportant thing: they always make her smile. Sakura's love letters are at least two pages long and contain detailed reports about a new medical jutsu she has mastered, a new food item she has tried or the complete mystery of why all of her plants keep on dying. In between she slips sentences about what he would have said or done in these situations. One of Kakashi's ninken has been put on mail duty and is to stay with her until Sakura has finished her reply.

No. 10. Sakura would never admit it but she actually enjoys watching rom coms, period drama or soap operas with Kakashi. Not because she wants to use them as ammo to tease him about it but because they are lighthearted entertainment with some analysis or commentary about the hardships of relationships sprinkled in every now and then. They ease her mind and she adores how invested Kakashi is. It's kinda cute. They watched Bridgerton, How I met your Mother, Ugly Betty, My Secret Romance, True Beauty, Downton Abbey, Poldark, Tudors and Outlander. The more teenage-targeted shows like Vampire Diaries, Never Have I Ever, Reign, Riverdale, Smallville and One Tree Hill she keeps to herself. Kakashi doesn't watch anything if it's not with Sakura.

No 11. Kakashi's first impression of Sakura was that she is just another kid who hasn't figured out life yet and who is still too focused on herself and on superficial things that won't matter in the long run. He tries not to judge her too harshly for her perspective because just like all genin, she'll have to grow up faster then she thinks. Sakura had a hard time believing that this man really was an elite shinobi with a widespread reputation that makes him known, respected and even feared by s-class criminals. He seemed too goofy, yet bored to be their teacher and not really interested in teaching, which enraged her.

No. 12. Sakura debated with herself for a long time whether she should bring up the "anniverseries" topic at all with Kakashi. Not because she thought he was indifferent to it. The contrary: she knew him to be a hopeless romantic. So she felt a lot of pressure to deliver something profound. Kakashi noticed within a week what it was that put Sakura under this much stress and decided to plan little things for them before the actual date: they tried the new ice cream flavor in Konoha's one and only gelato shop, he bought a new board game for Saturday nights, they went to take pictures of them with silly little hats and mustaches, they took a dance class together and tried to paint a portray of each other, which caused Sakura to laugh so hard, she almost peed herself. It made Sakura realise that they didn't have to do anything super extraordinary. So when their anniversary came around, they spent the better part of it assembling a new kitchen cupboard. Sakura cooked Kakashi's favourite dish and in the afternoon they went to the book shop and challenged each other to find the funniest romcom title books. They read them out aloud and whoever laughed first, lost. Sakura lost and Kakashi decided to drag her to a karaoke bar. Afterwards they sat down in the park and watched the stars together.

No. 15. There are times when Kakashi wished Sakura had abandoned Sasuke earlier. Not from her life but from her heart. A lot of her training and strength was a result of not wanting to put the burden of dealing with Sasuke on Naruto alone. Some of her heart was broken and it took a long time to fix the damage. Sakura wished Kakashi wouldn’t try to handle everything by himself all the time.

SukuIta

No 2. Yuuji loves to write love letters. He spends hours deciding on the perfect paper and what kind of colours Sukuna likes or doesn't like. When it comes down to the actual writing, Yuuji isn't a man of huge or many words. He likes to ask Sukuna silly questions such as "Would you still love me if I was a worm?" or "Do you want to be my boyfriend? Yes, No, Please don't check both". Yuuji decorates the letters with little hearts or flowers, sometimes slipping in one of the fotos he's taken of Sukuna while eating or napping with a commentary on the back of it. Sukuna would rather die than admitting that he kind of adores Yuuji's innocent, silly displays of attachment. He still thinks they're a waste of time. If he didn't like the brat, the brat would know. But he doesn't want to be an asshole so he either writes Yuuji beautiful poems or paints something in return. But he never answers Yuuji's letters, which bothered Yuuji at first, but then he read the first poem and still tries to recover from that.

No. 10. Yuuji always thought it would be such a headache to persuade Sukuna to watch ANYTHING with him, let alone comedy horror, body horror or horror with some romance or strong friendships sprinkled in it, but no. Sukuna does complain a lot about the nonsensical plotlines or the lack of gore at times but for the most part he was down to watch What We Do In The Shadwos, Ash Vs. Evil Dead, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Last of Us and The Walking Dead. Since Sukuna wanted a little bit more suspense and psychological horror he blackmailed Yuuji into watching American Horror Stories, The Hounting of Hill House and Hannibal. Ulterior motive here being to make Yuuji snuggle up to him. Sukuna doesn't bother watching anything without Yuuji but Yuuji tries to hide the fact that he likes to watch Jane The Virgin, Sex Education and Young Royals when he feels down.

No 11. Sukuna's first impression of Yuuji was that he thought him to be weak and overly concerned with the safety of others to the point of it being not entertaining anymore. Just an annoying brat who lets himself be easily manipulated and who would break under the slightest pressure. And yet said brat was able to control him, which angered Sukuna beyond measure. At least his vessel had a great physique if nothing else. Yuuji on the other hand felt indifferent about Sukuna at first. He didn't know who or what he was only that he wasn't about to surrender his body to him.

No 12. Yuuji thinks anniversaries are important because it’s important to make new memories and also to remember the old ones. Sukuna couldn’t care less but let’s the brat do whatever he likes to do for an anniversary. So they end up in the ice cream shop from where they kissed for the first time and eat ice cream until they feel ill. Afterwards Yuuji drags Sukuna into a nearby park to watch the clouds together. Sukuna thinks it’s silly but he is indulging Yuuji and at least he gets to cuddle with him.

No 15. Yuuji wished Sukuna would stop thinking that Yuuji only likes him for his power. This and that he has zero empathy for everybody else. Sukuna wished Yuuji would finally use his power for selfish reasons and unleash his full potential. That’s something he wouldn’t be able to forgive him.

[parmawiolets]

Fruit Salad

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's ex-not-quite-girlfriend Hannah Newby is pregnant. But it's not his. And she won't say whose it is. Very slow burn. Exes to friends to (eventual) lovers.

A/N: Chapter 2 of my first ever fic! Still not really sure why I decided to do such a big project for my first, but I'm enjoying it! Again, thank you soooo much to @shybunnie20 for being absolutely wonderful and helping me so much. Definitely go check out her work, she's amazing.

Contents: No upside down. Pregnancy. Fluff and angst. Reader is called Hannah because I didn't want to use Y/N but no physical description of reader (so maybe an OC? I don't know). Bob is her dad, because I love him. The Byers are still in Hawkins because I love them too.

Word count: 5.1K

Previous chapter

Chapter 2: Blueberry

Flashback to Hannah finding out she is pregnant. Lots of fluff, some angst.

July 4th, 1985 - 7 weeks pregnant

— 

Jules is worried about Hannah.

Hannah has been nauseous for over a month. And more irritable than usual. If Jules thinks back on it, it's also been a while since Hannah has complained of cramps. 

Jules thinks she knows what's going on. She just doesn't know how to broach it with Hannah.

—

Jules is standing in the feminine hygiene section of Melvad's, pretending to mull over two different boxes of tampons, waiting for the other woman in the aisle to just leave already. How long does it take to choose a deodorant?

The woman finally seems to decide and shuffles away to a different part of the store. In a flash, Jules is where she wants to be.

Shit.

Why are there so many different ones?

Does it make a difference?

Jules quickly looks around to check the coast is still clear, and opts for the second cheapest. She gets two. Just to be sure.

She struggles to hold the boxes conspicuously, so dashes back to where she had been standing and grabs a box of tampons to hold in front. No one's going to look too close at that.

Jules makes her way to the end of the aisle and peeks around the corner. Hannah's dad's girlfriend is working one of the tills. Jules knows Hannah likes her, and she seems to keep out of the small town gossip. Jules hasn't taken her driving test yet, so she can't get to the next town over on her own. This is her best bet at discretion.

"Hi Joyce." Jules puts down her purchases; tampon box on top, and reaches for a brown paper bag.

"Oh, hi sweetie." Joyce starts scanning. "How are-" Joyce's eyes snap to Jules' as she picks up the second item. Joyce clears her throat. "How are you doing?" She quickly scans the offending items and reaches over and drops them in the bag.

"Oh, um, yeah, you know." Jules grimaces at her stuttering.

"Mmhm." Joyce gives Jules her total, and takes the money offered.

"How about you?" Jules attempts a smile.

"I'm good, sweetie. Thank you." Joyce takes Jules' hand as she gives back the change and drops her voice. "You let me know if you need anything, ok?"

Jules nods her head quickly, giving a weak smile, and dashes out the door. "Bye, Joyce." 

She runs all the way to Hannah's house.

—

"I thought it would be fun!"

Hannah eyes Jules skeptically and deadpans, "You thought it would be fun."

"Yeah!" Jules grimaces, forcing out a laugh. "Who hasn't always wanted to pee on a stick, right?"

Hannah slowly raises her hand. "Uh… me?"

"Come on, it will be great!" Jules grabs her by the arm and starts pulling her towards the bathroom.

"Jules! What? No!" Hannah pulls her arm from her friend's grasp. "What's going on? Are you ok?" Her eyes widen. "Oh god, do you think you're-"

"No! I think you are!" Jules slaps her hand over her mouth. "Shit. I'm sorry. There was definitely a better way to do this, but I'm panicking now. You've been nauseous and more grumpy than usual and you haven't complained about cramps in ages."

Hannah is frozen. Staring straight ahead with a look of pure horror on her face.

"Han, please don't freak out." She reaches out and takes Hannah's hand. "Not yet anyway." She laughs weakly.

Five minutes later, the two girls are sat on the bathroom floor, shoulders pressed together, leaning against the bath. Hannah is hugging her legs with her forehead on her knees.

"How much longer?" 

"30 seconds."

Jules' hand is circled around Hannah's ankle in an attempt to comfort. She doesn't want to overwhelm her, but wants her to know she's not alone. She gives it a squeeze. "Times up." Jules is whispering. "Do you want me to look?" 

Hannah takes a deep breath and leans her head back. "No, I can do it." She picks up the stick, not looking at it. "What am I looking for again?"

"Two lines means pregnant."

Hannah scrunches her eyes closed and takes another deep, steadying breath. She opens her eyes and sees two lines staring back at her.

—

Jules is still worried about Hannah. She hasn't spoken in nearly half an hour. The pair are lying side by side on Hannah's bedroom floor, hands linked between them. 

Jules tests the waters by squeezing Hannah’s hand. Hannah crushes hers in response.

“Han, I need you to tell me what you need. Do you want to stay like this for a while, or do you want a hug? Or a cry, maybe? Food?”

Hannah lets out a shuddering breath and tears slip out down her temples. 

“Do you want me to call your dad? Or, um, Eddie?”

Hannah groans. “I’m supposed to go to the carnival with Eddie tonight. We were going to watch the fireworks from the ferris wheel.”

“That sounds nice.” Jules likes Eddie. Likes him for Hannah. She’s watched Hannah grow comfortable around him, which is rare for her. Hannah finds it difficult to let people in and let them see her vulnerable side. Jules has relished watching Hannah’s irritation at Eddie worming his way past her defences. She always worried that Hannah would push away anyone good for her, for fear of getting hurt. Eddie's determined though, and he’s good for her.

“Shit!” Hannah shoots up with a look of horror on her face. 

“Shit, what? Han, what?”

Hannah stares at her best friend, her eyes filling with more tears. “I don’t know whose it is.”

Jules freezes for half a second, then springs into action, scrambling to her feet. “Ok, we can definitely figure this out. We’re just talking about the two guys, right?”

Hannah nods, yes.

“Did they overlap at all?”

Hannah shakes her head, no.

“When was your last period? And any missed ones.”

Hannah rushes over to the calendar on her wall and flips through it, looking for the last time she drew a little star on a date. “I’ve missed two periods. A week and a half ago, and the month before that.”

“And how long have you been sleeping with Eddie?”

“Less than a month.” Hannah’s face falls. Tears spill from her eyes again. “Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, this just got so much worse.”

Jules pulls her into a tight hug. “No, hey, no we’re gonna figure this out, right? It’s all going to be fine. I’ve got you, ok?” Her own eyes are welling up now, the worry she was feeling earlier is nothing compared to now. “There’s options, right? You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, but I will be here whatever you decide.” She pulls back and holds Hannah by her shoulders. “Ok?”

Hannah sniffs and wipes her cheeks. “I can’t think about any of that right now.”

Jules tucks a lock of hair behind Hannah’s ear. “You don’t have to.”

“I need to- Shit. I need…” Hannah buries her face in her hands and her voice comes out muffled. “I need to break it off with Eddie.”

Jules’ heart breaks for her best friend. “Are you sure? You can wait, if you want to. Since you don’t even know if you’re keeping it yet. I know how much you like him.”

Hannah shakes her head. “No, I don’t want him involved when he doesn’t have to be.” She rubs at her eyes. “I don’t want him to feel like the bad guy if he doesn't want anything to do with me; or, god, feel some weird obligation to be with me.” Hannah drops down onto the edge of her bed. “If I decide to… y’know, then I’ll talk to him about it. But not before I know what I’m doing.”

Jules sits next to her and takes her hand again.

Hannah sniffs. “And there’s no way I could avoid him until then if I don’t. The boy would just break down my door if I tried to dodge his calls.” She lets out a watery chuckle.

Jules smiles sadly. “You really like him, huh.”

“Yeah,” Hannah huffs. “It’s gross.”

—

Wayne Munson is getting himself ready to go to work when there’s a knock at his trailer door. He finishes tugging on his worn work boots and puts an unlit cigarette between his lips before stomping over and opening the door.

His gruff, furrowed face brightens immediately upon seeing Hannah standing nervously on the other side. “Hannah, darlin’. Come on in.” Wayne turns to the side and swaps places with her. “I was just heading out. Ed’s in his room, so just head on through.” 

Wayne lights his cigarette as he watches Hannah look warily into the trailer. She’s often quiet, and a little prickly sometimes; Wayne thinks she’s a little like him in that way. But right now, she just seems anxious.

“You alright darlin’?”

Hannah’s wide eyes turn to him. “Mmhm.”

“Well, like I said, you just head on back. Let Ed know I’ve left for work, will you?”

Hannah nods. “Yeah, sure.”

He eyes Hannah again, unconvinced. But he has to get to work. Wayne raises his cigarette in a wave and shuts the door behind him, leaving Hannah alone in the quiet room.

Hannah takes a moment to steady herself. She looks around the snug trailer. She loves this place. It’s always so homey and welcoming. The Munsons clearly take care of their home and their belongings. Everything is well loved and well kept. 

It’s at least a full minute before she moves again, toeing off her shoes and creeping down the small hallway towards Eddie’s bedroom door. She doesn’t want to alert him to her presence yet. She wants to delay what she came to do for as long as she can. Hannah knows she should do it, knows it’s the right thing to do. But she wants to be selfish. She wants to indulge in Eddie and live in denial for a little while longer.

“Eds?” Hannah’s voice is soft as she pushes the door open, peering into the dimly lit room.

The main light is switched off, the blinds closed. The only light in the room comes from the small lamp on the cluttered desk that Eddie is hunched over, headphones over his ears and Hannah can hear the deafening blast of whatever music he is listening to. Eddie’s hair is tucked behind his ears to allow for the foam pads from his walkman. Even from her angle, he looks adorable. She longs to run her hands through his hair; twirl a spiral of it around her finger; pull at it and hear him moan. A muscle by his shoulder blade twitches as he furiously scribbles at a drawing. Hannah is itching to run her hands over his sinewy back and drape herself over his shoulders. She wants to wrap herself around him. Surround herself with him and never leave.

But she can’t bring herself to.

Instead, Hannah shuffles towards him and walks two fingers across his shoulder before laying her palm on it when he jumps, whipping off his headphones and turning in his chair.

“Hi Eds,” she lets out in a breath.

“Sweetheart!”

Hannah winces at his shout.

“Shit,” Eddie looks around. “Am I late? Wait, did you walk here? I'm supposed to come and pick you up. Jesus Christ, how late am I?!"

Hannah turns Eddie's chair to fully face her and moves between his spread legs. She puts both hands on his shoulders and squeezes, digging her thumbs into the dips in his collarbones. "You're ok, I'm early." Her voice is still soft despite Eddie's volume.

Eddie's voice joins hers in a murmur. "Well, shit, sweetheart." He takes one of her hands from his shoulder and holds it to his chest, massaging his thumb into her palm. "You should have called, I would've picked you up early if you wanted." 

She shrugs. "I wanted to walk. It's still light out." 

Hannah turns her attention to his desk, eyeing the drawings splayed across the surface.

"Did you want to go early? The fireworks aren't for a few hours yet, but we can go and look around for a while if you want."

She shakes her head. 

Hannah’s hand moves from Eddie’s shoulder to drift over his drawings. A vicious, sharp-toothed mermaid; a snarling, fire breathing dragon; a grotesque zombie, flesh dripping from its bones. 

“These are really good, Eds.”

The tops of Eddie’s ear burn red and he grins bashfully. “Thanks Han.” He kisses her captive hand. “Got nothing on you though.”

Hannah frowns. “Don’t do that.” She pinches his bicep, causing Eddie to yelp.

Eddie studies her for a moment, she seems off. "You ok?" He reaches up and takes her chin between his forefinger and thumb, skimming her chin with the pad. 

This is when she should tell him. She should break it off now. It's the right thing to do.

Eddie can see that Hannah's eyes have glazed over; she's gone somewhere else in her mind. Eddie stands up and cups her shoulders, bringing her attention back to him.

"Listen, I know you really wanted to go to this thing tonight," He's lying, they both know it. It was him that suggested it. "But I'm pretty beat. Would it be ok if we stayed in and watched movies? We could order a pizza and just veg out."

She shouldn't. It’s selfish.

"Yeah, ok."

—

As Eddie opens the fridge to grab two sodas, he peers into the living room at Hannah settling on one end of the couch. He can tell something is up, but he knows better by now than to press. They’re still getting to know each other, but after hooking up for several weeks, Eddie knows he needs to warm her up when she gets like this. If he lays too much affection on her too quickly, she’ll freeze up and push him away. 

Hannah is squirming on the couch trying to get comfortable. She slouches in the seat, then sits up straight, then crosses her legs. She’s wriggled between at least five different positions by the time she looks up and realises Eddie is standing next to the couch and watching her with an amused expression. 

“Comfy?”

Her face flushes and she nods sheepishly. Hannah tucks her legs underneath her and sits still. 

Eddie puts the cans and some napkins down on the small table in front of them and sits down beside her. He leaves a small space between them, but takes one of her hands in both of his and holds it to his chest. He can see that Hannah is still stuck in her head. Eddie hums a soft melody and runs one calloused palm back and forth along her forearm, kneading with his fingertips. 

He watches Hannah’s face carefully for her reaction. She blinks a few times, coming back to herself, and looks over at Eddie, resting her head against the couch cushion. 

Eddie's voice is a murmur, "I ordered one plain, one pepperoni. Wayne can eat whatever we don't when he gets in tomorrow."

Hannah hums in acknowledgement and leans in slightly towards Eddie. "I'm sorry for making you miss the fireworks." 

Hannah is speaking so quietly, Eddie has to lean in too. But he copies her speech. "Nothing to apologise for, Han." He wants to say that it doesn't matter as long as he's with her, but instead he tempers his sentiment. "I'd rather do pizza and a movie anyway." 

She understands what Eddie isn't saying. "Me too." 

Eddie resumes his tune. Along with the drone of the AC unit in the window, and the buzz of Eddie's hand along her arm, Hannah is starting to relax. She decides to deal with real life tomorrow. Right now, she wants to stay in denial; stay in this moment with Eddie.

Eddie's ears perk up as he hears the crunch of tyres coming from outside. He doesn't want knocking to burst their peaceful bubble, so he squeezes Hannah's hand and places it in her lap, bounding off the couch and opening the door before the pizza guy is even up the porch steps. Eddie pays and thanks him before padding back to Hannah, placing the boxes on the table and flopping down next to her with a grunt. This causes Hannah to fall towards him, shoulder to shoulder. 

Eddie’s heart sinks when she immediately sits up and away from him again, but he smiles when he sees her shining eyes as she zeroes in on the pizza. Hannah pulls out two slices and passes one to him. When she settles back into the couch, she rests her back against his arm, and wiggles until he takes the hint and puts it around her. A small smile on her face, Hannah raises her pizza to Eddie. “Cheers.”

Eddie chuckles and taps his slice to hers. “Cheers, sweetheart.” He nudges his temple against hers and she turns to press her forehead to his.

—

Hours later, The Princess Bride is quietly playing on the TV across the room from the couch, where Hannah is now laying on top of Eddie; him flat on his back with her cheek to his chest, torsos pressed together and her hips between his raised knees. Eddie is running one hand up and down her back. His other is entwined with Hannah’s, hanging down to the floor as she plays with the rings on his fingers.

This is Eddie’s favourite version of Hannah: soft; warm; affectionate.

Eddie’s hand drifts further up Hannah’s back into her hair and scratches at her scalp. She hums and nuzzles into Eddie’s touch. She props her chin on his chest, gazing up at him. Her free hand reaches out and begins tracing aspects of him with her fingers, skimming over his soft cheeks and strong jawline. She presses her thumb into the dip in his chin and her fingertips whisper along the skin under his eye, admiring his faint crows feet and the light smattering of freckles. Hannah ventures further up, hungry for more of him; she pushes her fingers into his bangs and sweeps her thumb across his forehead, smoothing out the crinkles from his concentration on the movie.

Eddie turns away from the TV with a smirk. "Help you?"

Hannah's index finger ghosts over his plump, pink mouth and settles in his dimple. "Just looking." A fond expression on her face. "You're so pretty, Eds."

The tops of his cheeks bloom pink. Hannah's fingers dance across the blush, giggling at the effect her words have had.

Eddie cups the back of Hannah’s head. “Can’t compare to you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off.” She’s beaming now.

Hannah shifts her weight back onto her knees and crawls forward, nestling into the crook of Eddie’s neck. She places a kiss behind his ear. Eddie makes a happy noise from the back of his throat and hugs her closer. Hannah pulls back slightly and dots kisses over his face, both of them giggling, their faces pink with affection. Her kisses follow the path of her fingers before finally pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She goes to pull away, but Eddie threads his fingers through her hair and pulls her back to kiss him again. 

She’s fully indulging herself now. Being greedy.

"You know,” Hannah’s lips brush Eddie’s as she speaks. “If we went outside, we could probably see the fireworks when they start."

"Yeah?” Eddie grins. “You want to?"

Hannah nods eagerly.

Immediately, Eddie rolls them both off the couch, Hannah screeches at the sudden fall. He jumps up, standing over her in a heap on the floor. 

“Jerk!” Hannah kicks out at Eddie and he catches her by the ankle. “Let me go!” She whines, grabbing at him as he laughs.

“C’mere.” Eddie captures Hannah’s hands and hauls her up into an embrace. He cups her face and smacks a kiss to her mouth. 

Eddie thinks for a moment. "Trust me?"

"Well that's never a good start to anything."

He cackles. "I'm taking that as a yes." 

Eddie pulls her to the front door. The pair of them scramble to put their shoes on, giddy at the prospect of doing something foolish. They stumble through the door and Eddie drags Hannah by the hand around the side of the trailer where he gets down on one knee under an open window. He taps his thigh and looks up at Hannah expectantly.

“I… don’t understand what’s happening right now.”

Eddie grins wickedly. “We’re going up, sweetheart.”

“Fuck that. No.”

“C’mon, we’ll have the best view from up there!” He pouts at her, using his best puppy dog eyes.

Hannah groans, but moves to step up onto his leg, mumbling about “those fucking eyes.” 

“Ok, now step onto the windowsill, and I’ll push you up onto the roof.”

Hannah grunts as she heaves herself up and clings onto the edge of the tin roof by her fingers. “If this is just an excuse to feel me up, I’m gonna kill you.”

Eddie gasps dramatically. “Me? I’m the picture of integrity, Han.” He grips her by the hips and encourages her upwards, giving her a tap on the ass as she wiggles over the edge into a heap on the roof.

“Perv!" 

Eddie appears a few moments later and collapses on top of her; forearms braced either side of her head. “You love it.” He buries his face in her neck, making her squeal as he blows raspberries against her skin.

They're interrupted by a loud boom echoing through the trailer park.

"Shit, it's starting! Get off me!"

They scramble up to face the fireworks exploding in the sky. Eddie sits with his legs spread out and pats the space between them for Hannah to sit. She settles with her back to his chest and he wraps his arms around her front, pulling her flush to him, his chin resting on her shoulder as she hugs one of his arms tightly.

The pair stay like that, watching the rest of the fireworks display, Eddie occasionally pressing kisses to Hannah's shoulder and neck. When the last bang rings out and the sparkles fade, they remain silent for a while, enjoying the quiet of the trailer park; all the other residents probably at the fair. 

Eddie burrows his face into Hannah's hair. "Do you want to stay up here for a bit longer or go back inside?"

Hannah turns her head to nuzzle him back. "Maybe we should go inside. I can't feel my butt." 

"Oh thank god, me neither!" 

Both of them fall to the side, giggling. Eddie manoeuvres them so that Hannah is laid out beneath him. He cradles the back of her head, weight braced on his forearm, with his other hand on her waist. He nudges his nose against hers and she lifts her chin to press a sweet kiss to his lips. 

Eddie draws back a little, his gaze flicking between her hazy, adoring eyes. "Do you want to talk about whatever is going on with you?"

Hannah stiffens and her eyes snap fully open.

"Shit." He fucked up. "Han, I-"

Hannah sits up, pushing Eddie back onto his heels. She presses her palms to her eyes and huffs. "I shouldn't… we should… fuck-" Hannah looks around. "Can we get down, please?"

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”

Eddie scrambles to the edge of the roof and over, landing with a grunt, and then turns back and helps Hannah slide down. The second her feet touch the ground, Hannah rushes off around the trailer, up the porch steps, and through the front door. She stops in the threshold, hugging her arms to her chest. Eddie scurries after her.

Eddie steps up behind Hannah. “Hey, look, I’m sorry.” He coos, turning her around gently. “Let’s forget about it, ok? We can just finish the movie.” He desperately doesn’t want her to leave. He doesn’t want to lose that closeness, that loving version of Hannah he just had.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Eddie. It’s my fault, I know I’m being weird.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Hannah stiffens again and whispers, “I can’t. Not right now.”

“Sweetheart… please?” Eddie pulls her to him by the waist, cradling her head with his other hand, pushing his thumb into her cheek. “You’re worrying me now.”

"Listen, I've just… I've got some stuff going on. And," she puts her palms flat on his chest and steps back from him. "It means I won't be able to see you. For a while, at least."

"What?"

"Eddie," she pleads, eyes darting around the room. "I can't explain right now, ok?" 

He steps closer to her again. "Han, look at me." He grips her hands in his and ducks his head to catch her gaze. “Please, talk to me. I just want to help.”

Hannah squirms. “I don’t need-”

“I know! I know you don’t need help, Hannah! But I want to.”

She looks up at Eddie, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

Eddie splutters. “Why?! Because we’re-” he gestures between them. “Because I like you! I really fucking like you!” He’s gesturing wildly now. 

Hannah buries her face in her palms, her voice muffled. “I know, Eddie and I really- I- FUCK!” She throws her hands out, her eyes glassy now. “Why do I find this so fucking hard!”

“Hey, it’s ok-”

“No! It’s not, Eddie!” Hannah swipes at her eyes. “I’m emotionally stunted. I’m grumpy and irritable and I can’t express my fucking feelings.” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I just need some space, Eddie. I’m sorry I just can’t say why right now.”

“Sweetheart, you’re really worrying me.” Eddie goes to cradle Hannah’s face again, but she immediately pushes him back.

“Stop, Eddie. I don’t need you to worry about me.”

Eddie is having trouble tempering his emotions. He just wants to help. “Well, tough shit, Han! You can’t exactly stop me caring about you.”

"You're not my boyfriend!"

They both freeze. She shouldn't have said that. She didn't mean it like that.

"Shit. Eds-"

"No.” He cuts her off. “You're right. I'm not your boyfriend." Eddie's voice is quiet, but icy. His eyes hard. "I'm just some guy you’ve been fucking."

Hannah flinches at the venom in his words. "No, you’re not- I didn't- I can't… I just can't!"

"Right, my bad. The ice queen can't have a boyfriend. She'd need to have actual feelings for that."

Hurt flashes across Hannah's face and she blinks back the tears threatening to spill. Her voice is strained when she speaks. "I should-" she clears her throat. "I'm gonna go." 

“Fine.”

Hannah steps past Eddie to the door. He doesn’t move to stop her.

“Bye, Eds.”

Hannah closes the door behind her and trudges down the steps. She takes a shuddering breath and rubs at her eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“Son of a BITCH!” 

The exclamation is muffled from inside the trailer, but still makes Hannah jump. Seconds later, the door slams open and Eddie stomps after her with his keys in hand.

“If you think I’m letting you walk home in the dark, you’re a moron as well as an asshole.”

Hannah lets out a strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a sob, tears finally spilling over her cheeks. She rushes to Eddie and throws her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. The action knocks the wind out of him.

Eddie sighs, but doesn’t hesitate to hug her back.

“C’mon sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

Hannah pulls back and nods, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

Eddie takes Hannah’s hand and leads her to the passenger side of the van. He helps her up and closes the door behind her before rounding the front and pulling himself into his seat. He starts up the van, but immediately shuts off the music, choosing to drive in silence in the hope that Hannah might start talking to him.

As the van pulls out of the trailer park, Hannah reaches over and takes his right hand, holding it in her lap. She knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help it. She wants to indulge in little bits of him while she still can. Hannah twists the lone ring on this hand around his finger.

After a little while, Eddie breaks the silence.

“It’s my favourite, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low and he doesn’t look over at her.

Hannah doesn’t look at Eddie either, but continues to stare at his hand cradled in hers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “This really amazing girl got it for me. You probably don’t know her.”

"No?"

"Nah, she was actually nice to me."

Hannah scoffs. "Well that's just not true."

Eddie grins, but there's a sadness in it. He parks the van outside Hannah's house and finally turns to look at her.

"Hannah?"

Hannah stares blindly straight ahead out the windshield. If she looks at Eddie, she’ll definitely cave.

"Hannah, please just talk to me. Tell me what's going on. What can I do?"

If she tells him now, he might hate her. He might be angry and not want anything to do with her; which would hurt. Or he might stay with her out of pity; which would hurt more.

"Nothing, Eddie. There's nothing you can do." Hannah resumes fiddling with Eddie's ring. "I need some time to get my shit sorted."

"Can you at least tell me if you're ok?"

"Yeah, I'm…" She rests her head back on the seat and sighs. "I don't know. But I think I will be." 

That didn't reassure Eddie at all. "Do you at least have someone helping you? If it can't be me."

"I've got Jules. And I'm gonna talk to my dad." 

She wants to tell him she doesn't want to do this. She wants to ask if he'll let her be self-centred, let her be greedy and keep him. She thinks he'd say yes.

But that wouldn't be fair.

"I'll see you around, Eds." She squeezes his hand and opens the door, but pauses before getting out.

One more moment of indulging herself.

Hannah turns back to Eddie and leans over the centre console, pulling him towards her with a hand on his cheek. She presses her lips against his in a lingering kiss. Eddie sighs and holds her hand to keep her there a little longer. 

Their foreheads stay pressed together as their lips part, neither of them wanting the moment to end. Hannah places another soft peck to the corner of his mouth and whispers, "Bye Eddie."

[jadeacereigen]

i also always felt like the fandom depicting reigen's childhood as abusive and neglectful never really quite fit. i know that most of it is probably just projection, and it's something i really understand because i've done it before with other characters.

i feel like there's a difference between giving a character trauma that makes sense when taking their canon self into account and giving a character trauma for other unrelated reasons, like comfort or even for fun, to be able to explore the scenarios that would come with it. both are very valid. let the people do what they want, y'know?

but something i feel like people tend to gloss over sometimes is that parents can fuck up when raising you and still not be outright shitty evil people. they can judge you on your career choices and still love you. your friends can make an off the cuff comment that ends up sticking with you in a bad way without realizing, people can suck at showing they care about you while still caring about you, they can be imperfect just as much as you are. it's their first time on this earth too. and it doesn't excuse the times they may have hurt you or made you feel bad about yourself, but it's up to you if you wanna keep them in your life. everyone can change, but that's also up to them.

it gives reigen an added charm [or should i say humanity?], to know that he is a flawed person and that it stems from the things that happened when he was younger, and the people that were in his life, and to know that things don't need to be catastrophic for them to affect and/or change you, whether good or bad. it's a good thing to remember i think. to know that there's so many greys between the white and black. that he has layers. his experiences are very valid.

anywho. sorry for the long ramble i just had to get this out there hehe.

ask game time!!!! 25, 9 and 22

Oh my god no don't apologize you're so right. I agree 100% so I'm gonna answer with my own long ramble.

(Discussions of child abuse below, though nothing that's not present in MP100 canon.)

Yes, it almost feels like people want to dismiss all flawed parenting and strained relationships between parent and child as abuse. There's certainly something very wrong with Reigen and his parents' relationship but I'm gonna be honest, I don't understand how people can find redemption in Toichiro who literally beat up his own son but then at the same time demonize Reigen's parents for the crime of disapproving his life as a CONMAN.

Yes, Reigen actually helps his clients and refuses to take money for things he cannot fix, but he's an incredibly special case and his parents are like most people who have no clue that the supernatural is even real. I personally think IRL psychics are full of shit and prey on the naive and emotionally vulnerable. If I had a kid who quit their normal job and spent all their savings to become a psychic I would not be happy with them! I would hope I wouldn't be as cold and that they wouldn't live in fear of my messages to them but I would definitely be encouraging them to stop that shit and get a "real job". To think that his parents should support his choices in life when he's pretending to be a psychic with no additional context is wild to me. (Also, I can't find the translation anymore but Reigen says in the fanbook that his mom thinks he's being tricked into doing his current job.) Again, they could go about this in a much better way but this disapproval does not inherently point to abuse.

(Sorry this rant got very long so everything else is below the cut.)

I think the biggest thing that points to Reigen's parents not being as awful as they are in fan content is that even after Reigen gets publicly exposed for being a con artist, his mom does tell him to learn his lesson from this but she also takes the time to prepare him an apology, tells him that he should come home (instead of telling him he's not welcome home/disowning him) and emphasizes that she's on his side. Maybe you could consider that the bare minimum of a decent parent but this to me just doesn't feel like she's the hateful abusive mother so often depicted. She could be warmer about it but she's obviously super concerned and wants Reigen to know she cares about him regardless of his actions.

(As for his dad, all we know is that he and Reigen don't talk to each other at all and that he thinks Reigen is unemployed. This relationship is definitely worse than Reigen and his mom's but there's little to go off of in terms of if his dad is a terrible parent or not. His mom seems to think he's worried about Reigen and that would definitely not surprise me.)

In terms of how Reigen feels about his parents, in the fanbook he acknowledges that there have been misunderstandings from both sides and that he'd like to talk things out with them and visit them more often. That's such a real thing lots of people can relate to and I'd love to see that get explored! I want to see Reigen patch things up with his parents! Maybe I'll write out my stupid fic idea for it idk.

I also don't want to stereotype but I am from an East Asian family myself and grew up surrounded by others so I feel like it's safe for me to say that Reigen's parents really remind me of your typical older generation of Asian parents. (Reigen was born in 1984 so his parents would definitely be of the boomer ilk, potentially even the Silent Generation if they had him on the older side.) Reigen also says in the fanbook that his parents are very serious people. Oftentimes with that older generation they just don't really show their care the way you'd normally see it. There may never be any "I love yous" but they'll cut you a plate of fruit without you asking or remember the show you liked 10 years ago and assume you're still into it...

Of course, parental norms in a culture don't justify hurtful parenting. (I mean just watch Everything Everywhere All At Once if you want to see the pain of having a disapproving Asian parent despite knowing they love you and just want what they think is best for you.) His mom fussing over his job and his lack of a girlfriend may be a super "Asian parent" thing, but it definitely hurts Reigen's feelings and she should cut that out. So yeah, Reigen's parents could do a lot better in terms of making Reigen feel supported and loved regardless if they approve of his life choices or not, but Reigen wants to patch things up with them for a reason and I'm hopeful that they can all reach a better understanding with each other.

One thing I also wish the anime showed was that Reigen's mom talks to him on the phone after Separation Arc! We see that in this omake:

Reigen definitely didn't tell his parents his phone number or his home address if his mom had to resort to emailing his business address just to talk to him. But I like to think that after Separation Arc he started letting his mom into his life a bit more...

God this was such a long rant, I'm sorry. One final thing before I get to your questions is that if we really need abusive parents to hate, Teru's non-present parents are ripe for the picking... Just saying.

(ask game)

I'm assuming you mean Reigen for all of these btw

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Gosh I initially thought he was just a silly goofy character who could be annoying and pathetic at times, but I enjoyed his presence on-screen. Then he got deeper in the Season 1 finale and showed just how much he truly cared about Mob... That part definitely got me shook. He only got better and better from there and now he's one of my favorite characters in the story.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Jesus christ uh I definitely don't think he'd be a bad roommate and we'd probably get along just fine but I also think I'd annoy the shit out of him. I'm not the best at keeping my space neat and clean. Also the thought of meeting Reigen in person is actually terrifying... Reigen should never exist outside the world of fiction because his pure chaos would be too much for reality.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

Hmm I answered what I don't like last time, but I do like fics that explore his relationship with Mob or Serizawa. I also like seeing him confront more of his personal issues and grow as a person even if he gets a little hurt in the process-

[mafaldaknows]

I just don't understand what his team was thinking when they agreed to this stunt. Exactly how does he benefit from it other then being seen as an uber straight grade-A douchebag? Is this really the image his team wants for Timmy? There's just too much talent and potential there to be shamming with a Kartrashian/Jenner.

Hello, Anon:

It’s absolutely mind-boggling what having more money than God can buy in the United States of America these days: New lips, new hips, and a sparkling new image with a shiny new man who apparently doesn’t even need to be present to win.

The KarJenner PR team has been hard at work for the last few months for a classy reboot of baby sister Kylie, complete with a romance with the internet’s boyfriend, style influencer and fashion icon Timothée Chalamet, who also happens to be the greatest actor of his generation. At face value, it certainly does seem like an unlikely match, given the imbalance of (dare I say it?) intellectual curiosity and preternatural talents between them. But anything is possible, when one has more money than one can ever spend in several lifetimes and the other has greater goals and ambitions than his power and influence will allow at this point in his career.

Both parties involved, however directly or indirectly, can find benefit in being in each other’s orbits driveways, taco restaurants, tarmac, in an image-conscious culture ravenous for juicy content just like this.

One of the pair has received a decidedly more positive boost from it.

The other, not so much, perhaps by design.

He may have extremely valid reasons for wanting to promote that particular “douchebag” image, if he really is willingly participating in what appears to be yet another PR romance. His handlers and PR team probably assume that he must do this in order to continue to level up in Hollywood as the next Leonardo DiCaprio. And they are probably right, given the current wave of puritanical bigotry in the USA and elsewhere in the world. There is far too much money riding on the success of his next three potentially blockbuster projects and too many people with a vested interest in his success for them to allow his image to be seen as anything other than “normal” in order to appeal to the mainstream sensibilities of a global audience. His own ambitions most likely make it impossible to refuse.

Can’t knock the hustle. ✨💃🕺🏻✨ And both of them are hustlers. Maybe that’s what they have in common.

If this were truly an authentic romance, we already know that all they would need to do to keep it private is to KEEP IT PRIVATE: Say nothing to the press, don’t call the paparazzi to meet you in the parking lot, don’t alert the media at all. They both have the means and resources to disappear from public view whenever they want, if they really wanted to do that. It’s not a requirement to begin a new relationship with a press release, not even for celebrities.

And yet here we are, a love story loudly announced in a tale of two cars, maybe three, long driveways but park at the bottom where everyone can see, and taco dates with paparazzi who take photos but only with his wingman.

A story which has made it abundantly clear that at least one of them wants to

MAKE SURE EVERYONE NOTICES their super-duper-uber-private budding romance 🚘🌮❣️🌮🚘

I’m not entirely convinced that he’s even an active participant in all of this, TBH. Many of the details thus far don’t add up to much of anything except a lot of black cars being shuffled around in his driveway published by the trash gossip press with sensationalist headlines and articles intended to plant the idea in the minds of those who want to believe it or need to know it’s happening.

For reasons.

And all of this accomplished without a single decent photo as concrete evidence of this alleged romance between two people famously well-versed in the art of the selfie in the golden age of Instagram.

Not even a fan photo or one “leaked” by their team. Nothing, except some extraordinarily grainy outdoor shots in someone’s backyard where the only easily identifiable person is Kylie Jenner and only because of her unusual proportions, in a town teeming with Teemo lookalikes who would happily stand in for the real thing for nothing but the chance to say they did it.

The Devil works hard but Kris Jenner works harder.

Seeing might be believing, but only if we can actually see what we’re seeing.

Thanks for your comment. 🤔🥔📸🎪🫤🤷🏻‍♀️