#this took way too long for me to write

[runningupthatvecna]

get the peach(es)

bestfriend!eddie munson x reader

it's the day after chrissy got vecna'd and you and the gang decide to check up on eddie at rick's. he's still in so much distress that you can't help but selflessly stay with your best friend (who you've been harboring a crush on for quite some time) and keep him company. 6k words, not proofread.

cw: the good old friends to lovers trope, eddie is an anxious bean who just needs to be held (by you, ideally), mutual (and not so secret at all) pining, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind (she/her pronouns) but can also be read as gn i guess, fluff, hurt/comfort (for eddie), pet names, mentions of chrissy's death, there shall be kisses and a lot of softness. nothing too explicit but minors are still advised to LEAVE

a/n: totally not self indulgent, that scene of him being so terrified in 4x02 ripped me to shreds so this is my fix-it attempt, trying to still my need to hold him and scratch his head. disclaimer: this piece of writing is based on the ending of that episode, meaning all credits for the setting go to the respective writers. sources to the header images here, here and here. lovely divider by saradika. ok thank you so much for reading byeeee love y'all <3

–––––

The overwhelming need to befriend the satanic metalhead found you at that party at the Wheeler house. You had almost said no to Nancy when she invited you, knowing damn well how the night would end. Steve passed out with a girl on his lap, Robin silently pining after Vickie from some corner of the room while clinging onto the red plastic cup in her hand, Jonathan getting higher than a kite with his old school mates, the younger kids asking you every five minutes if you could give them a ride since you usually were the one staying sober.

Additionally this time, there would be Eddie Munson. This familiar stranger Dustin, Mike and Lucas had met and somehow befriended over the last months, due to them joining his DnD club. "He might come off as a bit intimidating ... but I promise he's super chill and easy going!", Mike had tried to convince his sister, poking the tip of her shoulder repeatedly with a bunch of pleases during lunch break in the editing room of the school's newspaper. Until she rolled her eyes theatrically and agreed to let the ambiguous stranger, which the whole town collectively perceived as not really fitting in (and who you both certainly knew under the not so chill reputation he carried around), attend the celebratory events at Casa Wheeler. Occasion: Karen, Ted and their youngest leaving the house for more than one day, off on vacation.

You'd always kinda stayed out of his ways, used to observe his antics back at school with a silent laugh and this .. intrigue poking at your guts. To you he always stood out, and if anyone asked you'd be hesitant to admit it, but his willingness to go against the flow and not conform to the acceptable standards set by society was honestly impressive. And besides, surely this whole mysterious drug dealer rockstar image must just be a fassade and deep down he's just a dork, right?

His eyes follow you through the living room, an echo of your name crossing his mind repeatedly after having pulled Dustin into a corner for a brief interrogation. He finds it endearing how quickly and almost bashfully you look away every time your curious gaze meets his. As you redirect your focus to the conversation you're becoming engaged in, there's a soft smile creeping onto your lips. Little did he know it would soon start to haunt him in his dreams at night.

"Anything specific you're looking for?"

God, his voice. The close proximity invites your nose to inhale a mix of fresh cigarette smoke, bergamot and sandalwood, allowing you to sense what can only be him standing behind you as you skim through the cabinets of the Wheeler kitchen. You turn your head for your eyes to confirm your assumption and what they find is the deepest brown of round baby cow eyes they've ever met, up so much closer now. The paring of his gaze and plush smile somehow manages to dissolve every little prejudice you've been involuntarily harboring about him. Eddie Munson, the town's freak. Prime reason for the existence of the satanic panic. Drugs. And then you realise that you should probably do the polite thing and give him an answer. "Yeah uh, I was just trying to find the peach syrup", holding his gaze with a small lopsided smile, lost in its warmth which you wouldn't have dared to expect from it, before facing away from him again. He snorts a little, "peach syrup?", pauses to bring a thumb to his upper lip, lightly scratching the skin above as if to wipe something away, before he removes it again and the dimples appear around the corners of his mouth, "that is oddly specific." His response spreads a smile over your face, and the next thing he says widens it, "looks like you have taste though."

You move one step to the side, about to investigate the insides of the next cabinet, the kitchen itself almost empty of people with only three others chatting away in the corner across the island. He follows, undoubtedly trying to stay close, and the heat from the fire he just ignited somewhere inside of you rises to your cheeks. "Thanks, I really like peaches. Especially in my drinks. It adds a little ... kick to my sobriety", you explain, Eddie now quirks an amused eyebrow paired with a lopsided smile at you, and as you get to the last cabinet it dawns on you (and also Eddie) that this household severely lacks peach syrup. An atrocity. Thanks Ted.

After he helped you rummage through the entirety of the kitchen without success but under a lot of small talk, the metalhead vanishes from the function for an hour or so. At least that's what your brain concludes when your vision fails to spot him among the people who are in attendance. Maybe he's selling out of Nancy's bedroom. Maybe he's puking up his insides in the bathroom because he had too much of that weird beer he's been downing all night. Maybe he's banging some random girl in the bathroom upstairs. Or summoning a demon. Or both. At the same time. You once again try focusing your attention back to the conversation you are involved in. Munson already feels so dear to you that the lack of his presence is starting to form an ache in your heart. It's tugging on those strings with how much you already want him near you. Yeah. You're gonna be in trouble with this one.

And then he stumbles into the room from the direction of the front door, an event you're totally unable (and unwilling) to miss. He doesn't look like he just puked, nor sold a whole lot of the stash since you notice it still bulging out the left ass pocket of his black jeans. Instead, as he pushes past the small groups of people socialising – and towards you – while you notice a red net of round fruits dangling from his right hand, and you start to think that his disheveled hair and that rosy tint on his cheeks might actually not be from shagging either. He meets your gaze again as he approaches you with a grin and your heart dares to swell at his attentive gesture (you think you might as well pass away on the spot).

"Have some, peach."

It's not syrup, but you'll take them anyway. And with your next drink, you swallow down not only that peachy sweetness on your tongue, but also whatever this tingly feeling in your chest is.

"Chchhrhch.."

Pause.

"Hey, uh– chrhchhr.."

Silence in your bedroom, the only thing illuminating the space is the moonlight softly falling through the window.

"Chrch– a-are you there?"

You stirr awake from dozing off in your bed, trying to piece together the information your senses are giving you.

Eyes gone dry, you have to blink a few times. Figure out which year it is and so on.

Confusion lies between the static crackle for a moment. That nap after your shift at the diner was necessary. God, you need to fucking quit.

"No I'm sure she'll pick right up, just– hey pleeease b-be awake, goddamn it!–"

Is it already past midnight?

You don't know and you can't tell, the clock on your nightstand still broken. What you do know though is that the familiar voice belongs to your friend Dustin and it's desperately trying to get ahold of you.

They must have found him.

"Dustin? I copy, where are you? What's going on?", you finally grab the device from the nightstand, fully awake and aware of your surroundings now.

You need to know. If he's okay.

There's that all too familiar instant tingle in your chest again, an ache that made itself familiar to you for the first time when he was introduced to you at the one and only Wheeler party several months ago. The dungeon master of Hawkins High's Hellfire club, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin and a super chill and easy going guy, to put it in Mike Wheeler's words.

What you didn't expect back then was your heart starting to develop that feeling, that tingle you'd always get to feel when you were in his presence, or like now, when his name is threatening to spill from your friend's lips on the other side of the connection at any moment.

"Aha! See? I told you she'd respond in no time."

You can practically feel Dustin's shit eating grin through the frequency, basking in being correct over Steve Harrington once again. It never gets old between these two.

"Oh my god", Steve's muffled voice is what you can make out vaguely from the off, he's probably palming his face.

"Dustin!", your voice disappears into the device, and your impatience grows with every passing second, hoping he gets the hint.

There's the sound of a door falling shut, leaves rustling under shoes, he must be outside now.

"Alright, okay yeah, so we found him at Rick's and he's really upset and he's been asking for you. I know it's late but can you meet us out here? And maybe, uh, stay with him?"

It's not even worth questioning. You're already wearing shoes. Your biggest hoodie in tow, you stumble into your kitchen with the intention to raid your own snack drawer. Pulling out Eddie's favourite, which you of course had stocked up on ever since hanging out with him at your place had become more of a weekly routine for the both of you.

Ten minutes, you told him. You'd be there in ten.

The drive feels like forever. The longest ten minutes of your life, you think.

You know the route like the back of your hand, having driven along the gravelly road leading from the last intersection before Hawkins' border to the outer world, to the serene woods surrounding Lover's Lake countless times. Eddie would take you here ever so often, for picnics, an occasional smoke after picking up a new delivery from Rick's, cloud or star gazing, listening to Metallica and Tears for Fears on Wayne's old walkman.

The gravel crunches underneath your white reeboks as they land on the ground. You close the door to your car as quietly as possible after you've taken out the bag and your hoodie.

Dustin and Steve are stood outside the boathouse, waving like madmen in the darkness once you come into their periphery.

The younger boy hugs you tightly.

"So glad you could make it", he gets out, the relief palpable through his voice as well as the grip he holds you in for a brief moment.

You look at them both after Steve presses you against him cordially, and breathe out through your nose, making your nostrils flare.

Dustin cracks open the case to you as he starts to ramble about the state in which they found your best friend, "well first he attacked Steve with a broken bottle, we had to put in great effort to convince him that we'd be on his side, and we came to the conclusion that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, basically."

What you want right now goes without saying. Everyone here knows how close you and Eddie are. As friends, of course. No one would think anything different.

Without wasting another second, the boys lead you inside where Max and Robin are knelt on the wooden floor. Heads turning towards the entrance of the room where you're now standing.

The sight of what's offered to your eyes, sitting opposite of them, breaks your heart.

You can see that he's slightly shivering, eyes glassy in the dim lit room. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips though once his brain grasps your presence, and he can't help anymore but let the water fall once his eyes lock with yours.

The pain that is swimming in those two deep warm brown oceans hits you like a dagger to the chest. Over the months of being friends with him you'd seen him various different states, none of them comparable to this.

"Peach", his shaky voice announces your arrival and the sound of your nickname spilling from his lips cracks through your bones. The bag that's slung around your shoulder drops onto the wood with a dull thud.

Wobbly legs carry him towards you with a gentle shove past Robin and Max. You're once again reminded of your best friend's sheer physical strength as he wraps his arms around you, instantly burying his face into the crook of your neck.

One arm of your own sneaks around his torso, pressing him against you as tightly as your own strength allows you, while your other hand comes up to bury itself underneath the mane and to end up scratching soothingly over the scalp above the nape of his neck.

Eddie lets out a muffled sob, sniffling into the collar of the sweatshirt you threw on in a haste. He doesn't really want anyone to see him like this, certainly not Steve Harrington, so he clutches onto you so tightly that he thinks you might just feel his heavy heart beating anxiously against your chest.

And you do. How could you not with the amount of world he means to you? Like an automatism your other hand rubs slow circles over his back. Comforting him in the best way you could. Not a conscious decision you make.

"Okay so, m'not meaning to ruin the party, in fact I'd love to stay for another round of doom talk, but I really should get home soon, guys", Robin scratches the back of her head after she gets up from her huddled position next to the wooden crate Eddie had been sitting on. Max joins in and agrees, mumbling something about having to move her mom from being passed out on the couch again into her bed.

"Yeah me too, actually. My dad's gonna be fucking pissed. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?", Steve's voice echoes through the room and you can tell he's already shoved Dustin back outside, itching to drive the kid home.

As Eddie processes having to stay in hiding, added the possibility of everyone leaving without him, his grip on you tightens even more.

"It's okay, Eds", you speak softly, head slightly tilted so your cheek rests on the dark frizzy mop you could call his hair. The skin on his neck and scalp so warm underneath your fingertips as you keep scratching it, emphasizing your presence, "I'll stay."

A soft muffled whimper is what you get as a response, and the way he lets you see him in this state melts your insides to a puddle.

You just need him to be okay.

They wave their goodbyes behind your back, accompanied by mumbles of "see you in the morning", and you can't even bring yourself to turn your head around, fully focused on making the young man in your arms less terrified of the world. A world he was sure was now going to come for him with all its force – in deep conviction of him being responsible for Chrissy's misfortunate end.

The door falls shut and Eddie muffles a quiet thank you into the fabric of your sweatshirt. The skin on your neck is damp with his tears, wet eyelashes tickling every time he blinks.

"It's okay, Eds", you softly keep repeating your words to him while continuously rubbing over the denim of his signature Dio vest in a slow motion, when he feels the urgency to claim the truth into the collar of your sweater about what has happened, "I– I didn't do it, I swear."

As if you would need any convincing.

"Oh no of course you didn't, I know that", you're looking for a way to ease the distress this entire situation is causing him, his quivering voice adding to your desire to soothe him to inner peace, "can I make a suggestion?"

Eddie nods with another sniffle against your collarbone, the round wet tip of his nose brushing against the column of your throat lightly. To his ears, your voice sounds like silk right about now.

"How about we head over to the main house and get ourselves a little more comfortable? Since we're gonna be here for a little longer? My god you probably haven't slept or eaten at all, have you?"

You can feel him nod his head again with a hum this time, and you start to think that the tears might not just be pouring because he just witnessed someone suffer a gruesome death right in front of him, but also due to physical exhaustion.

It makes your heart ache even more, that tingle still present, even more so now. It hurts to see your best friend hurt.

He just needs to be okay. And in that heart of yours there's that little spark of hope that leads you to believe you could be the one helping him with that.

You'd really want that. Be all his to find comfort in, to hold close, to kiss stupid

Stop.

A sigh escapes your lungs at the thought. That tingle, that longing, it's selfish. It familiarly pools in your belly and slowly drips downwards. You push your brain aside. This is about soothing your best friend now.

"C'mon then", you utter softly, encouraging him with your hand to lift his head from where it leans against your shoulder.

For your heart it's almost too much to look at, the hurt still swimming in the glassy big brown irises, his waterline red and puffy. The soft smile returning to his lips causes the wet apples of his cheeks to push up slightly, reflecting the dim light coming from the one torch Robin left you, placed on one of the crates.

He really hadn't been able to close an eye for a single second since he he'd gotten up for school the day prior.

You smile back at him almost bashfully as you slowly create space between your bodies.

Eddie is grateful that it's you who grabs his ringed hand next.

He squeezes yours, hoping to get the message of this meaning something to him across.

And he closely trails behind you as you lead the way.

The house feels empty, like no one's really been here in months. You'd never been inside. The few times you'd accompanied Eddie grabbing stash you'd stayed in his van, waiting. But as far as you now can make out in the darkness, there's a couch with knitted blankets, a little TV with a whole stack of VHS almost rising as high as the screen itself, spilled and spluttered empty cans and papers and wrappings littered all around. Maybe this is why he never let you come inside with him. Keeping you out of this definitely not sterile mess. Along with keeping you out of the business.

In the middle of the living room, you let go of his hand and shuffle one step away from him. He's inside now. Safe. Job done. Doesn't need physical contact. You shouldn't, he's your friend. You feel like something between you would break if you'd go there.

Eddie thinks otherwise, regarding close proximity at least. He promptly follows you into what you believe to be the kitchen where you hope you might find a tea bag or two. He comes up behind you and encases you in his arms as you rummage through the cabinets (feels familiar, hm?), not at all ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your body pressed against his own just yet.

You giggle at the silliness of him putting weight on you just to make it harder for you to reach into the cabinets. It's endearing. And very Eddie.

Twenty minutes later and there's two mugs – cleaned to your best ability – with steaming hot liquid on the sixties wooden coffee table. Next to them a plate filled with the almost equally hot insides of a ravioli in tomato sauce can. Thank Rick for a still functioning microwave.

You drape the knitted blankets over both you and Eddie as you settle into the cushions. The only light existent coming from two lit candles on said coffee table. It wouldn't be too wise setting up the torch you think.

The side of Eddie's face glows in the orange yellow, his wide brown bambi eyes dried after the first grand storm, and there's this tug on the corner of his pink plush lips again. He exchanged his leather jacket for the freshly washed hoodie for comfort and a small part of you hopes he doesn't spill his dinner onto any of it.

You lean back into the backrest of the worn out couch and watch as he eats, a domestic thing you've done a thousand times already, yet you still find comfort in knowing that he's nourishing himself.

Or well, in this case, inhaling the raviolis.

"Thank you Peach", he moves to put the empty plate back on the coffee table and it makes the spoon chink and glide along the edge, "I really needed this."

His voice is a little hoarse, probably from the emotions of the hours behind him. Maybe he has indeed calmed down a little. His hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing.

You give him the most empathetic smile you can bring yourself to display, painfully aware of the blaze that is transpiring through your leggings and seeping into your bones, "it's no big deal, really. I mean it is– uh, being there for you, is."

And he can't bring himself to look up at you. Instead, he stares at the empty plate on that coffee table in front of him.

"And to me as well. It really helps that you're here."

He doesn't bother moving the calloused warmth of his hand from the soft warmth of your thigh. It lights your entire nervous system on fire. In a good way.

And that's when you begin to wonder if everything that has just happened and is still happening right now changes anything.

"I'm so glad it does", is all you're able to get out.

Eddie decides that it's time to lean into your side and wrap his arms around your torso once again, drop his head back to its favourite place with a soft content little hum.

He just needs physical comfort. Of course. Just that. Nothing more, nothing else.

The words are redundant but your mouth articulates them anyway, "try to get some sleep, yeah?"

His back already lifts and falls evenly. You place your hand on the back of his head that rests in the crook of your neck again, scratching through the curls lightly, searching to help him shut off even deeper.

–––––

The candles have gone out by the time your eyelids slowly open. It takes you a moment to recall the location you fell asleep in, and you hope that the nightly darkness the whole room is now filled with hasn't invited any stranger to take advantage of your unconsciousness.

There's a warm hand holding your face, the pad of a thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek softly. It makes its way from the bridge of your nose to the outer corner of your eye, and back. And forth. And back. And forth.

You must have moved to lie down on your back in your sleep, with Eddie's weight still on your body, legs entangled. It's not the first time you've slept like this, there had been movie nights that had ended similarly.

His hand caressing your cheek though, yeah that is new. There's something unspoken in the air this time around. Your stomach is doing flip flops when you realise that he is propped up on his elbow, just .. looking at you. With eyes that don't require light to hint at whatever it is he is trying to say, or maybe not trying at all.

"Eds, what are you doing?", you ask almost in a whisper followed by a lopsided smile, expecting an unserious answer, because he always tends to make a joke whenever he tries to avoid conversing about emotions regarding his heart.

His thumb stops its acrobatics on your cheek, comes to a halt.

"I'm–", he takes a deep breath before he continues, "I'm just so grateful it's you that's here right now."

Your hand comes up to cup his. Brush over his rough knuckles with a thumb of your own. Enjoying the warmth that is seeping from his palm into your skin.

"Yeah, I figured you were gonna be a little opposed to spending the night with Harrington", you laugh, an attempt to turn your nerves into humour.

Eddie snorts a little, "yeah right, it's almost like you know me", he grins and pushes himself even closer to your face than he already is. It doesn't necessarily help in extinguishing the fire that's consuming you whole at this point.

"It's almost like we're best friends and I know what you think of him because every time Dustin or literally anyone else mentions his name around you, you're not necessarily secretive about it."

"Hey, my own worldview is not my fault, it's just– ... he just kinda seems like a douche of the highest order."

"He's quite alright, Eds. Try giving him a chance, I think he'd look great as Coffin's tambourinist."

He snorts again and you feel his breath on the column of your neck next when he dips his head down, nose pressing against the soft skin, his small giggle being swallowed by the collar of your sweatshirt.

Your favourite sound. Ever. Followed by the relieved moan Eddie lets out at the way your other hand is softly rubbing over his shoulder blade. The vibration against your neck makes you twitch as much as being pinned into the couch cushions by his body allows you.

It's soothing as much for you as it is for him.

When he lifts his head, the soft gaze he eyes you with is enough to let the goosebumps erupt. Even in the darkness of the room you can still make out those round buttons that could melt the entire north pole.

"Thank you, Peach, really. I'd be goin' mental right now and probably tryin' to counter that by smoking an equally mental amount of the stash I've been hiding here."

Your heart aches.

"I'm just glad I can be that kind of comfort to you, Eds. You don't have to go through whatever the fuck this is alone."

"I know I'm never gonna be alone as long as you are there."

You almost cry yourself now, his words making your hand travel from his own to his cheek, almost passing out from the way his eyes bore into your own once again.

Eddie isn't sure what it is that is making him feel lightheaded right now. The whole rollercoaster of events of the past hours. Or your words of affirmation. Or mayhaps it is your cute soft hand with that little ring on your thumb which is gently swiping over his damp skin.

That cute soft hand he'd been imagining countless times at night, silently yearning for your eyes to look at him differently, to finally see him in a different light the next time you'd hang out.

Probably a combination of just everything.

You reciprocate his soft half-lidded gaze, hand moving from his cheek to tuck some of his hair behind his left ear, revealing that delicate silver hoop earring you'd gifted to him for his birthday, after having talked your ear off about getting his ear pierced for literal months.

He'd insisted you join him for the appointment, "another metal moment for the books", as Eddie had called it, the need to have his hand held during the stab comically urgent in the way his voice sounded when he called you that day. And in the pace in which he picked you up.

"I'm here no matter what", you respond to his sentiment, that hand that brushed his hair away resting on the side of his neck while leaning the weight of your head into his palm that is still attached to your cheek.

Eddie's confidence reaches a new all time high with the admission of your unconditional support being stirred into the cocktail of hormones and emotions that's been circulating in his bloodstream for a generous amount of time now.

Because then he goes on by saying impossible things.

Impossible things with a slightly less platonic undertone.

"You're so fucking sweet, has anyone ever told you?"

You smile as you shake your head, heat rising to your cheeks once again and you're sure he won't be able to see just how flustered he's getting you (joke's on you he does).

You're also sure he's out of his mind for saying that. Now.

"A shame, honestly. You should scold your best friend for not telling you sooner. Tell him what a fucking idiot he is."

Eddie earns another giggle from you. Music to his ears. Better than Metallica. Okay maybe not but .. pretty fucking close.

"I'll let him know next time I see him", you say with a grin, playing along with pleasure, and you ask yourself why it is only now that you realise just how fucking close his face is to yours.

There is a moment of silence in which Eddie hesitates articulating whatever is seemingly bugging his mind.

"Do you, uh, still like him?"

If you lifted your head just a little your noses would be touching. A silly and utmost redundant question, and yet, Eddie dreads your answer. If the circumstances were different, less dystopian and tragic, you'd seriously wonder what would spark the doubt in your friendship in him, but considering that everyone else would be going to pour their judgement over him, you understand.

Every word exchanged between the two of you at this hour is soaked in mutual infatuation, something the idiots in both of you are slowly starting to fathom as well.

"Of course I do, he's everything to me."

As you say it, you can't help the grin which reappears reliably each time you finish verbalizing your thoughts. It's contagious, you notice.

"And do you think – just hypothetically of course", it's only then he breaks eye contact to clear his throat, "of course", you interrupt him still smiling and cocking an eyebrow at him, "d'ya think it would be okay for this best friend to, uh, maybe...", Eddie pauses, internally watching the ship containing his confidence set sail slowly and ultimately letting the irrational thoughts win for tonight, "would you let him..."

Eddie generally wasn't someone who lacked confidence. It showed in the way he boisterously wandered the halls of Hawkins High, the way his demeanor never changed, his mask never faltered no matter who was around. Except for you. You who he had always granted a look underneath the impulsive, extroverted surface.

"Eds", you try everything in your power to stay calm even though everything inside of you is screaming right now and you're certain you can feel your pulse in your earlobes.

"Would it be just insane of that best friend to kiss you right now?"

You want to squeal and kick your feet, pull him into your face, pinch your own forearm, pass away, leave the house and never return, and stay right where you are forever, buried underneath your favourite metalhead, the parts where your bodies are touching practically on fire, cosy and content.

Instead, the most fond smile spreads over your lips as you try to contain your internal overwhelm.

It's still dark, the only light source being the full moon outside. Eddie's so hopeful of your reciprocation and even more terrified of ruining his entire life at the same time, those deep doe eyes at this point pretty much resemble the shape of the space rock orbiting earth. Rejection from you, his pretty Peach and the Bonnie to his Clyde, would be unbearable.

"I think so," you almost whisper, the hand that's been rubbing over Eddie's back coming up to lightly trace one of his eyebrows with your index finger because you just can't seem to not touch him in some way, "but you should know that I love his insanity."

Your small giggle is being silenced by a soft and cautious kiss from Eddie Munson. Like he doesn't want to break you. Or he's afraid you'll snap out of a haze, slap him and leave if he starts kissing you like he really wants to.

And then it's you who goes for it, you feel at home, right where you belong, you don't think you've ever felt this good. The hand on his jaw tugs him closer softly, pressing your lips to his with a bit more urgency.

It gives him all the confirmation he could possibly need.

That tingle, it grows and fills up your chest and shoots through your entire being, goosebumps and all. Eddie moans and breathes against your lips, tongue dancing over the thin skin, asking for permission.

His ringed hand digs deeper and slowly moves to the nape of your neck, intending to hold you in place, afraid you could slip away from him if he didn't. This blossoming thing between you could slip away from him. If he didn't.

It's so soft, the way his lips touch yours, and before you know it they move to your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck before Eddie comes up again, smiling from ear to ear, to gently bump his nose against the tip of yours and his lips return home with a soft and deep hum escaping from his lungs into your mouth.

Relief floods his veins along with whatever it is you're doing to him. The ability to shut out the insanity of the past hours is what he so desperately wants to cling to for as long as you allow him, even if the dawn will remind him of the horrid reality he's involuntarily become subject to live through now.

"You're making things so much better, Peach, you're so sweet, so fucking cute, so fucking good for me, do you even know for how long I've been dreaming of this?"

Eddie greedily pulls your face into his again, not even giving you a chance to reply and not nearly getting enough of your affection it seems with how fervently his tongue searches for yours.

A gentle collision of skin.

The soft whimpers you let out only spur him on. You not backing away from him, staying with him, letting him be this close to you?

You, the only constant source of consolation Eddie's ever really had.

Life changing.

Soft touches follow soft touches, your thumb traces his jaw repeatedly.

"You don't–", kiss, "for how long–", kiss, "I've been dreaming–", kiss, "of you as well", you breathe against him and Eddie thinks he might be about to resort to sniffling into your collar again with the amount of relief he is experiencing.

You'd let him.

"Yeah?", he presses his nose into your cheek with his eyes closed, smiling from ear to ear, relaxing his entire body into yours as you let him slide inbetween your legs.

"Yeah, you know how much of a sucker I am for peaches", you grin, another peck to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, your hips slowly finding a rhythm against his own.

Eddie groans at your allusion with a wide grin on his face (and the feeling of your warmth against his dick), before pressing his lips against yours again lovingly, "me too baby, me too."

–––

taglist (thought you might be interested): @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @analogkraken, @wroteclassicaly, @songforeddiemunson, @joejoequinnquinn, @somnambulic-thing, @trashmouth-richie, @eddddiemunson, @ceriseheaven, @userchai

comments, reblogs and other forms of affection towards the author are greatly appreciated thank youuuuu <3

[royalarchivist]

Foolish: You know what? Fit: it's the perfect alibi. "Just a janitor," going through... just to cleaning around everywhere... talk to a lot of people... and you're just bald and such, you know, no one would think twice that you- may be you'd up to something.

Fit: Foolish that's- that's literally the entire point, we've been over this.

Pac: You like the plumber's work, right? You like to get your hand in the plumber's and- do the stuffs, and plumb [makes a very loud popping sound] those pipes, right?

[Everyone loses it and starts laughing]

Pac: I'm sorry- I'm sor- I'm- [laughs] I did- I didn't mean-

Fit: WAS THE SOUND NECESSARY???

Foolish: No, the sound made it.

Pac: I didn't- I didn't hear myself- sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh my god, I'm so shy right now, I'm just gonna sit.

[Full transcript ↓ ]

Foolish: You know what? Fit: it's the perfect alibi. "Just a janitor," going through... just to cleaning around everywhere... talk to a lot of people... and you're just bald and such, you know, no one would think twice that you- may be you'd up to something.

Fit: Foolish that's- that's literally the entire point, we've been over this.

Foolish: Have we?

Fit: I said I'm- I'm trying to find out more about like, the Code Monsters!

Foolish: I thought you just wanted- liked being a janitor.

Fit: Well, I actually do kinda like it, I'll be honest with you, I like getting paid, but-

Foolish: Wait damnnit, Philza's doing it right.

Pac: You like the plumber's work, right?

Fit: Yeah.

Pac: You like to get your hand in the plumber's and- do the stuffs, and plumb [makes a very loud popping sound] those pipes, right?

[Everyone loses it and starts laughing]

Pac: I'm sorry- I'm sor- I'm- [laughs] I did- I didn't mean-

Fit: WAS THE SOUND NECESSARY???

Foolish: No, the sound made it.

Pac: I didn't- I didn't hear myself- sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh my god, I'm so shy right now, I'm just gonna sit.

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[arttsuka]

I LOVE Teen Stan and Ford, it’s sad they don’t get drawn enough, so thank you so much!

Does Ford ever help Stan when he gets overstimulated? Or maybe when he has a rage response and suddenly starts crying and calls himself stupid?

Here's the other post with Ford

[syn4k]

if tumblr existed in empires s1 then the dashboard would look a little bit like this i think

🏜️ cactus-abolitionist

MY CAT JUST RAN OUTSIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF A SANDSTORM IM

🌿 theres-no-place-like-gnome Follow

oh no are they okay?? i don't know how serious sandstorms are but maybe you could go after them?

🏜️ cactus-abolitionist

Sand blowing past you at upwards of 75kmh. It's also really hot sand. It's been known to literally strip the flesh off of bones wait post cancelled my cat just walked back in she's fine guys

9 notes

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

visiting the Mythlands today and me and my family found a neat lil natural floating island while hiking

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

to the people in my notes going "what the fuck": have y'all never heard of physics?

🥀 remorse-is-remorse-of-course Follow

OP WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU LIVE WHERE THIS IS NORMAL

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

western mezalea?? lol

🔧 verylostmechanic Follow

well that explains a lot.

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

Can I Help You

🔧 verylostmechanic Follow

ain't emperor joel dating a fish

🏺 clay-the-dirt-man Follow

yeah, they're married. Isn't Emperor Joey a demonfucker????

#dude why are the notes arguing over the ethics of being ruled by a demon 😭 what the fuck #op im so sorry

11,798 notes

🌸 prismarined Follow

...i'm in this class thats being taught by the headmaster today and she smells like weed. i'm not gonna say anything but like. what

🦦 i-like-otters

yeah the academy's just like that. as long as she's not like, actively dying or anything she's probably fine??? idk o7

#reblog

2 notes

⌛️ thelittlesandthatcan Follow

I JUST GOT BACK FROM A BUSINESS TRIP WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THE COPPER KING'S GONE

🐟 kelpieselkie Follow

I DONT KNOW I DONT LIVE THERE BUT apparently nobody expected it either?? like some people are saying it was the Dragon Fight that did it (i know Emperor Joey came out with statements that Emperor Riffs actually helped kill the dragon and unleash the demon but its been two days and we all know that he hates that guy so idk) but nobody actually knows anything. it's crazy bro

⌛️ thelittlesandthatcan Follow

my mom said the royal housekeepers found a note from him alongside like everything he owned but they're not saying what's on the note yet. holy shit

237 notes

🐠 fishfucker997

this will definitely have an impact on the local trout population

🏰 all-the-kings-hen Follow

the Guardian of the Thirteenth Empire just died and you're worried about fish???? be for real omg

🐠 fishfucker997

have you people never heard of references in your life

🏰 all-the-kings-hen Follow

why are you interacting with me i literally have "codlanders dni" in my bio

🐠 fishfucker997

my brother in cod you literally reblogged this from me??

🐠 fishfucker997

they blocked me lmao

#how is this post only 2 days old

197,233 notes

🐪 camel Follow

she dragon fight on my copper king til i disappear

elvfish-deactivated-20210503

who the hell let a camel onto this site lol

🐪 camel Follow

You will die at age 87 with nobody to mourn you and no stars still shining to watch you go.

#911 i just witnessed a murder

87,546 notes

🌻 helantheia

anyone know who made emperor pearl's dress? it's really pretty :0

0 notes

📷 desertphotography

West of the River of Plenty, Pixandria

2,307 notes

[wausbasementslave]

So heres a really weird Shockwave x Reader scenario I had. It was inspired by a dream I had.

Yandere Shockwave making an uncanny sexdoll of you. Logically it's unlikely you'll return his "feelings" and most likely run away, which will be a real hassle for him and the plans of the Decepticons. Sadly for him (and buying time for you) a mere doll will be good enough. at least he knows that it can take his girth, even if dolls don't make good conversation.

But his plans change when, for one illogical reason or another, you decided to sneak onboard and into his lab. In your human error you bump into some equipment, and to your horror you discover it. This...thing had every mark and blemish you had, all the intricate details that made up your body were in full display. It would be like looking in a mirror if it weren't for the dead eyes. The disgust alone made you tear the intricate double to pieces. Carefully placed wires and circuitry get haphazardly cast aside. The synthetic skin gets reduced to mere ribbons as you deny the monster who made this any more satisfaction.

There can't be two of you, and soon enough this anomaly was extinguished, there is only the original now.

But sometimes the prototype has better features, at least to Shockwave. You stare in utter wide-eyed horror; he stares down with a single emotionless eye. "And I thought you were smart.." But his voice gave a different intent. Before you could take a single step, he quickly grabs you, pressing his fingers onto your body. "Let go of me!" You sob, his hand presses in. A warning perhaps, it's useless trying to get out his grip. "Now why would I let go of such a such a fine specimen?" He purrs, heat radiates from his chassis as one of his finger's carefully caress your body, taking in every soft detail. Perhaps he can have the best of both worlds.

[cypher05]

so about that eclipse. huh.

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[somewhereincairparavel]

🐚 Daughter of Neptune headcanons list... 🌊 part three

Note: ahhh finally done with this unexpected series. Also, this is twice as long as the previous two parts, I got soo carried away haha, well you can't blame me, writing is so fun! This is the last part of this headcanon series, I had so much fun writing this?? Even though I had like a mini writer's block at first, I swear I started typing this part out having no idea what I was doing, but it all turned out better than I expected. This part is not just Jason x reader but it also includes so much platonic stuff with the others of the seven + Reyna + Nico. It's just so fluffy omgg. Happy reading! Thank you sm for all the notes you guys have given me for the previous two parts! Tell me if you guys enjoyed it, do you think I should consider writing more of these headcanon stuff in the future?

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746404816602972160/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons?source=share

Part two: https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746489087922520064/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons-list-part-two?source=share

•After Jason woke up on the bus, he'd actually remember your eyes and voice VERY clearly. Because those were his two favorite things about you. But Hera had whacked him on the head pretty badly, so he couldn't remember ALL the details about you in the beginning, like Percy did. (I honestly wanted to make him remember you fully even after Hera wiped his memory off, but that would be too similar to Percy and Annabeth lol so I didn't want it to be cliche sorry)

•Now you guys may be wondering, what about Piper and Jason? Okay Piper would admit her feelings for him, but Jason would turn her down, albeit politely though, because it felt utterly wrong. He knew about this special person in his forgotten life, even though her figure was wispy and blurry. He never had any attraction towards Piper, she was a good friend, sure, and it didn't matter how pretty people thought Piper was, because those black Obsidian eyes of the mystery girl he was so familiar with, was alone prettier by every means. (We all love a loyal whipped Jason who thinks that a pair of eyes are more beautiful than a daughter of Aphrodite)

•He knew you were special. He knew that he didn't belong there, in the wilderness school. He knew that he was miles away from home. His real home. But the name of that home never came to him. •the moment he looked at his SPQR tattoo, though, it would bring him vigorous flashes of you and him sparring in a training room.

•Aeolus the wind god, would remind Jason of the time you and him stayed at his palace to slay Trojan the sea monster. Well, of course you went, how can you go to slay a sea monster without taking a sea child with you? Right? That was the last quest you and Jason went on before he disappeared.

Aeolus would trigger that one memory in Jason. Thank the gods for Aeolus. That one memory trigger is what made everything gush back to Jason like a tide.

•He’d remember your name, finally. His Best friend. His crush. His maybe girlfriend. He'd remember his friends from his home. Camp Jupiter. Gosh. He felt such a burst of energy simply by saying that name. Now, he felt homesick.

So you could imagine the excitement he felt, when Leo was building the argo ii. He'd practically gush about you to Leo, and even Piper would be super cool with it. Over the course of the months, Piper realized that Jason and her were not romantically compatible at all, it was all Hera’s mist. She didn't even know what she was thinking, crushing on someone who was so different from her on every level. So now Piper and Jason were like homie coded.

You were super worried after Percy told you that the new, Greek ship, the argo ii would land today. Which was pretty weird, since it meant that Jason was coming back to you. Why were you worried?

•Well, for lots of reasons, what if Jason didn't remember you anymore, what if he lost his feelings for you, what if he found someone else? The stress was real.

•Without even realizing it, you poured your thoughts out to Percy, whom you initially refused to tell about your’s and Jason's.. er.. situationship.

•Percy, would surprisingly be chill about it?? Like you were expecting some panicking now that he knew his sister was romantically involved with someone.

•Percy would calmly tell you that Jason wouldn't stop loving you, proudly pointing to himself as an example, that he never stopped loving annabeth even after the Hera Fiasco. Well. He had a point. That boy was still whipped for his girl.

•So when you locked eyes with Jason, and saw the familiar gleam in his eyes, you knew, he didn't forget. You forgot how piercing his blue eyed gaze was,because it made you feel stuff erupting from your stomach lol (blud is the definition of 🧿👄🧿)

•Without even caring about what your fellow Romans thought, Jason and you would just lunge onto each other tbh. Its canon that Jason is the best hugger ever, so it would be a rib crushing kinda hug.

•You would be SO relieved that he'd remember you and he'd be so relieved that you didn't move on.

•You guys wouldn't kiss, not yet. You still haven't exactly acknowledged your relationship status, BUTTT you do the cheesy af forehead touch thing (you could have sworn percy fake-gagged LOL)That's when Jason noticed your praetor badge, he’d be stunned, and would ask you for details, you’d simply point to the golden eagle perched at the end of the senate house and tell him that you and percy got elected after you both returned the eagle together.

He’d fall in love all over again omgg the heart eyes he’d give youuu. He knew that you were downplaying your achievements tho, so he’d secretly ask Reyna for the full details lol. (Reyna was a proud mom, so she’d give Jason ALLL the deets)

•okay so when Annabeth judo flips percy, you'd be SO taken aback lol, you’d even get a lil uncomfortable bc well that's YOUR brother getting attacked by a random girl- so initially you’d be ready af to throw hands.But after Percy starts laughing you’d realize that THAT'S annabeth. Like Percy's Annabeth. Dam, your brother was with a fierce girl.ANYWAYS, Percy would introduce Annabeth to you proudly, like “THIS is MY sister” (so dramatic and for what reason)

Annabeth would initially be very nervous around you, because, one, she didn't know that Poseidon had ANOTHER kid, gods know what havoc you and percy would cause together, two, you meant a lot to percy and she could clearly see that, an idiot could deny how much love your brother had for you, so she was determined to not mess up her reputation around you, ESPECIALLY after she the look on your face when she flipped Percy (you had a hot temper, need i mention, so without even realizing it, you had directed a very fierce glare at her, oopsie).

Octavian would again, not give up in trying remove your’s and percy’s praetorship by going “Oh there cant be four praetors its against the rules” blah blah that's where percy intervenes with his legendary “we all outrank you loser” lol

So after the group’s lunch scene where they discuss the prophecies and stuff. You, Reyna and Jason would actually talk amongst yourselves, after you guys came to the conclusion that you will have to join the gang in the argo ii. Jason would secretly be overjoyed that he doesn't need to separate from you anymore but you guys would still be sad that Reyna wouldn't be able to come.

This also meant that you would have to give your praetorship up. Gosh your positions in camp Jupiter somehow never stuck permanently, you'd even joke about that. And Reyna would have to handle Camp Jupiter by herself now that all three of you left, But Reyna assured you that it wasn't your fault.

Okay enough with the plot yapping I did. Bc if I continue it would go on for ages. The main reason you're here is because of reader x jason and I'm kinda deviating from that a little.

It would actually take so long till you and Jason get alone time on the argo ii because of group discussions and coach Hedge lol But you both would meet at the deck at like 2 AM (this kinda reminded you both of the times you and he would sneak out to explore New Rome at night.) That's where you both could feel the tension in the air lol. So many unresolved and unrequited feelings on both ends, how would you approach that?

But thankfully, being best friends first gave you guys an upper hand to moving forward in the relationship very quickly. You'd just start off talking about each other's respective journeys in your respective camps. He'd tell you about the quest with Leo and Piper, and you'd tell him about what went on in Camp Jupiter while he was gone.

That's when you realize that Jason looked a little different than when he left. His hair was Messier, a little longer, no more neatly cropped, his azure eyes sparkled when he spoke of Camp half blood, and the war games they had, how different it was from Camp Jupiter, etc.

But instead of feeling upset about how much Jason enjoyed the other camp, you'd feel relief. Relieved that Jason no longer looked stressed anymore, he'd always held this fatigue in his eyes, while he was at camp Jupiter , it was no wonder, considering the politics he'd had to engage in to prove the worth of the twelfth legion, his leader duties + vigorous training had tired him out, but now, some of the fatigue his eyes held had vanished.

Camp half blood seemed to be the place for him. Now you were itching to go to this mystery camp your maybe boyfriend AND your brother seemed to love so much.

Jason would be super nervous to tell you that he liked it better at camp half blood, and that he secretly wanted you to come and stay with him there though. Because he felt like he was betraying his Roman life. He felt like he was betraying your past.

So when he'd tell you, he'd just yap and yap about it out of nervousness. That's when it happened. That's when you kissed him. You would just pull him in. Period.

He'd be super flustered at first, neck reddening and all, but he'd just lean in and be so into it (he's a neck grabber, fight me) You'd think that as a military dude, the guy would be a bad kisser. Hell no. His dad's the chief of getting all the bitches, he ain't letting his son embarrass him by having no charm lol

OH OH and speaking of the old man, The moment your's and Jason's lips met, you would hear a clasp of thunder and see huge steaks of lightning explode in the sky.

You had to admit, the thought of your dad's watching as you both kissed made you feel weird lol

But if Zeus had hated you so much, he would've zapped you to electrons by now, and if Poseidon had hated jason so much, he would've drowned him. But thankfully, neither happened.

After lots of long deep conversations (and kissing)You both would reach the decision that after the whole gaia situation is over, you'd both stay at Camp half blood, but, you'd both return to settle in New Rome as you grew up. I mean, it's Camp Jupiter that you both dislike staying in, not the city itself. The city is paradise for demigods.

But the fates ruined it, so despite gaia’s defeat (No leo is alive and well here okay) after Jason took up the responsibility of building shrines for minor gods, he had to go back and forth between both the camps.

But you, Reyna, Hazel and Frank would help Jason with the minor gods in Rome, While Jason took care of the Greeks. This made his job a tad easier.So the downside was that you kinda had to do long distance for a while AND you hadn't even visited camp half blood yet (Which got on Percy's nerves, the poor boy wanted to show you around his Camp and cabin SO badly, but the fates never left you or Jason alone. The Romans always had duties in front of them.)

But because you, Reyna, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, and even Leo helped Jason with the shrine stuff. The job got done a lot quicker.

You both were finally at peace.So as a celebration to finishing the shrine project, Percy and Jason DRAGGED you to camp half blood and had the whole day spent with all of the 7 (including Reyna and Nico).

When I tell you, you've never had THIS much fun ALL your life omg.

You never got to bond with Leo, Piper or Annabeth properly because of the war, and stuff. But today? It was like you guys have been friends since forever.

You played capture the flag, You and Percy used up your water shenanigans to put on the most dramatic fountain show EVER (Annabeth was right in her judgment, you both were completely chaotic together) she realized how fun you actually were, not even half as grumpy as you looked. After you and Percy caused a huge avalanche that almost turned into a hail storm (which was prevented by wind boy Jason) Leo told you guys to stop flexing your fancy shmancy weather powers.

Piper taught you guys how to surf, which only ended in You and Percy somehow splattering water on each other and you aggressively tackling him into the bottom of the ocean, WHICH ended in a chaotic “who can swim faster?’’ competition between you both, You both were SO dedicated that you created a huge bubble to bring everyone into the bottom of the ocean to spectate (Frank turned into a sea urchin though lol)

You and Percy ended up in an argument over who won. Mind you, if you read part one, you'd know that Percy and you have this ability to telepathically converse with each other underwater, but only you both understand, so it would end up looking like you're making strangled fish noises to the others. Nico, Piper, and Leo were absolutely hysterical. Jason was amused but so clueless. Hazel was mortified, while Annabeth and Reyna hoped you and Percy didn't kill each other. And Frank? He was still an urchin.

Also, since You, Jason, Percy, Annabeth, Hazel and Frank would all go to New Rome College together, you guys would have SO many double dates together omgg.

I forgot to mention, you met Tyson and Percy's new little sister Estelle, so now your sibling group has expanded even more.

did i mention that percy and you would have matching dolphin plushies? yeah. he'd have the blue and you'd have the grey

Tyson would love you sm omg :( he'd keep making you stuff every time you showed up in camp half blood.

Also, Sometimes when Percy and Annabeth would be busy, You and jason would so babysit Estelle (which Sally would adore) Jason would so take Estelle flying.

can I just take this moment to emphasize how much Sally would care about Jason?? Like after hearing jason’s erm tragic past, Sally would get so protective of him and give him sm food and everything :( Jason would get a little emotional too. Like you can just see his eyes tearing up whenever Sally hugs him :(((

Even though Reyna joined the hunters, You and Jason would make it a point to see her at least Every two weeks. She'd be so proud of how far you and Jason had come, even after the long break that temporarily had your relationship on hold. Now Reyna could sleep peacefully lol since the poor girl had seen you both hopelessly pining for eachother since you were like 9 lol

She had listened to you telling her that you weren't good enough for Jason to like you back, AND him telling her that he wasn't good enough for you, after all.

Okay after you guys got older, because of the amount of services you and Jason had done for Camp Jupiter, you guys would end up receiving such a cool house in New Rome as a gift (it's like the least you deserved for all that you've been through lol) It would have a fancy Roman bath and everything. and even better, it was not far from where percy and Annabeth were living. So it was a win win.

You and Jason would totally iris message Nico at least once a week, you both were basically proud parents when you see Nico all lovey dovey in a relationship with Will. (Is this how Reyna felt seeing you and Jason? Maybe, yes)

Also, you and Thalia met not long after she came to Rome to check out the minor god's shrines. She loved you, like almost immediately, Jason iris messaged her atleast twice a week, so he told her all about you. So Thalia would be SO happy that someone was treating her lil bro right. He deserved that.

Speaking of family, Zeus had just grudgingly accepted that you were his son's girlfriend lol Poseidon would actually be a little chill about it. He wasn't as judgemental as his brother. But just because you and Jason were dating didn't mean that your dad's didn't stop having a go at each other lol

But you both would make it a point to start aggressively kissing eachother whenever you spot statues of your dad's placed next to eachother. Simply to piss them off. And it works. Every. Single. Time.

You would hear a clasp of thunder each time you do this. You and Jason would just look at eachother and burst into giggles. It was a tradition now between you both.

Sometimes Jason would still look at you like you were made of stardust, and vice versa.

In the end, you and Jason were what people called “Childhood Sweethearts”

[snail-migraine]

ooooh! Could you do something for Elliott from Stardew Valley? Or perhaps Mr. Qi? Elliott’s my favourite character, but Mr. Qi has that “omnipotent stalker with a weird sense of humour” vibe that would fit perfectly.

Thanks in advance!

Ooh, okay! As much as I think Mr. Qi is the most likely out of everyone in the cast to become a yandere, I can't help but that I just wanna cuddle a delusional yandere Eliott. Thanks for the Ask btw!

-

Anon Yan 💌‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Yandere Elliott

I feel like Elliott is the delusional stalker type.

Like when he and the farmer (aka you) first meet it's love at first sight for him.

He's been in a creative rut for so long, bored out of his mind and replaying the same words over and over again in his mind.

He heard about the new farmer coming into town from Leah, and thought nothing of it really. It wouldn't effect him and his work.

Oh how wrong he was. From the moment Elliott met you the man became a simp.

He watched you run around town foraging for anything good to sell, he always admired how keen your eye was for the little berries that'd grow in the bushes and the flowers nobody thought to pick.

He looks at you like you hung the stars and the moon in the sky. Like you've moved the heavens and the earth to make space just for him and his little whimsical fantasies. And in a sense you kinda did.

After all, it was you who brought him out of the bored gloom he'd had been living in for the past months.

So it'd only make sense that you'd become his one and only muse.

The man could write thousands of sonnets and haiku's in your name. He hasn't gotten that far yet, but he's getting closer everyday.

He's sickly sweet, that lovey-dovey puppy-dog expression crosses his face whenever he so much as thinks about you. [Which is all the time btw]

He is totally and completely enamored with you, fallen for you like a fish falls for the bait. Which is unfortunate for him as you don't seem to have fallen for him.

But it's fine! Maybe you're just shy, that's okay, he'll just need to be a little more forceful in his affections.

"Darling! There you are. I have been looking all over for you. Come along now, I have made another poem for you to read. It'll be wonderful."

Which doesn't work...in fact it seems to make you even more reserved.

But thats okay to! You guys will work on that together.

He just keeps on pushing and pushing and pushing, and it never seems to stop.

It isn't until you blow up on him, calling him a creep, that he backs off. But only for a little bit.

He see's this as just a small argument between you guys, it'll pass over in a few days once you cool down.

But then he see's you talking to Sebastion in the saloon. You twirling your hair between your fingers, laughing at his jokes, blushing when he gets a little too close for comfort, and looking up at him with sweetest expression he's ever seen from you.

For the first time in a long time, Elliott feels rage. And not the normal kind, oh no no no, I mean blinding rage.

The kind that makes you act on your violent thoughts. Which is exactly what Elliott ended up doing.

In a flash he's on Sebastion, beating the poor boy within an inch of his life.

The other people at the Saloon try to stop the raging Elloitt, but all of the get knocked on their ass and get to scared to do anything.

Once Elliott was done with Sebastion, he turned to look at you. No longer did he look at with that sweet puppy-dog face, no instead his eyes were filled with nothing but apathy as he grabbed your chin with his bloody thumb and directed you to look at the dead body of your best friend.

"Look at what you've caused dear. This is what happens when you try to make me jealous."

[semperama]

Come and Taste

I finally managed to write something for @summerofbuddie! Here's my contribution for smut week.

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz Additional Tags: First Time, Multiple Orgasms, Come Eating, Snowballing, Pregnancy Kink, Barebacking, Overstimulation, Episode: s06e07 Cursed (9-1-1 TV), Fix-It, Porn with Feelings Words: 5400 Summary:

He lets go of Buck’s arm so he can turn toward him, finally, and Buck’s eyes are wide and round, his mouth shiny-wet like he’s been running his tongue over it. Eddie wants to press his thumb there, but he palms Buck’s hip instead, draws him closer. “Give it to me instead,” he says. It’s—an insane thing to say, but he doesn’t fucking care, his body and mind and mouth out of his control.

[kusanagihaku]

because love knows no distance

⭢ haku x mc, 10.8k

His eyes alight on yours, a sunset-warm that sends sparks skipping down your veins, a July-gold that spreads like lava to the tips of your fingers. You’re not sure how you’ve ever denied it, but now, under the spotlight of his gaze, your heart thrums with what it knows to be true – that you have loved Haku through every version of him, just as he has loved you through every version of you.

or: childhood friends to lovers au with a side of hotarubi shenanigans, because i couldn't resist. on ao3 here.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

For your ask game ~ 📖 🦉 🔞

Worth the Risk - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Female reader, no use of Y/N, making out, almost fully clothed grinding, clothed fingering, bit of exhibition/voyeurism, vaginal sex.

Wordcount: 6317

Summary: He'd given you his card, invited you to the studio with the promise of a good time, and the show had been amazing for sure, but did the night really have to end once the cameras turned off?

Notes: I really wanted to write this the other day but I was too sleepy and went to bed early y'know like a baby 😖 anyways I've been wanting to do a sequel to Susceptible since I first posted it and somehow it ended up even longer so this is for you hehe hope you enjoy~ 💗💗💗

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

You don’t know how many times you’d looked at the card he handed you since that night, but the corners were starting to bend and the pen marks were beginning to smudge, just a little. You forced yourself to leave it be as you checked your appearance one last time, the mirror by the front door to your apartment offering its final encouragement as you decided there was nothing left you could do to delay your departure before you were late. As soon as you were out the door you had to resist the urge to sprint, your heels sending muffled echoes down the hall as you headed straight for the elevator, a kindly old woman holding it for you with a smile. 

You had the sense to call a cab early so you wouldn’t have to risk waiting and missing your 11PM deadline, the car stalling right outside the door as you waved to the driver and got inside. ‘Fiske Studios, please,’ you tell him, the small building owned by a branch of UBC now very well known thanks to a certain Mr. Midnight. Your leg bounced the entire way there, the card once again in your hands as you stared out the window, neighbourhoods giving way to open city streets, more cars circling around you like a school of fish. You hated driving in the city, it was the main reason why you dedicated so much of your paycheck to cabs, but tonight you were starting to wish you’d driven yourself as you hit the tenth red light in a row.

The driver sensed your anxiousness as you bit your lip for just a split second before your purse was opened and your lipstick was uncapped, the tiny mirror in your hand reassuring you that it’d be fine, you looked great, it was an easy fix. ‘Hot date tonight?’ he asked over his shoulder, his voice startling you a little as you snapped the mirror shut again.

‘Uh, going to a live show, actually,’ you said cautiously, avoiding a yes or no to his question; it’d be too presumptuous to say yes, but god if you didn’t want to hope. ‘I’m meeting a few friends there, don’t wanna be late and all.’

‘Oh, well, girl’s gotta have some fun on a Friday night, I guess,’ he said as he looked you over in the rearview, your coat pulled a little tighter over your shoulders as you forced a smile and tried not to look to disgusted; this was yet another reason why you were so fond of Jack Delroy, he’d never make you feel that way, what with him being such a gentleman and all.

The memory of the night you met made you shiver briefly as the hallucination flashed through your mind again, the false feeling of his hands on you having haunted you all week. You sucked in a very long breath through your nose as you willed the pink to leave your cheeks again, the last thing you needed right now was this guy seeing you get covered in goosebumps and assume it was because of what he’d said. You actually hadn’t been able to watch Night Owls since that night, feeling almost guilty about it even though there was no way he would know you hadn’t seen all the exciting things he’d been talking about. You’d tried last night, but as soon as the wall had opened and he’d strolled on out with that smile and his eyes instantly finding the camera you’d become a right mess way too fast and had to turn it off again, your heart pounding and your legs pressed uncomfortably tight together just at the sight of him.

Goddamn you Carmichael Haig.

The studio came into view with the latest turn and you readied yourself to get out, money already in hand by the time the car had stopped. The bill was settled and you stepped out into the cool night air, cutting off the driver’s wish for you to have a good night with the slamming of the door, and you took a look around and tried to guess which way would lead to the back door he’d mentioned. You waited until the car was out of sight, pretending to see your ‘friends’ so it wouldn’t look like you were about to walk down a dark alley by yourself, another deep breath exhaled sharply as you summoned up all of your courage and headed to the right.

It was a large alley, big enough for a car to drive down and reach the parking lot out back, which thankfully held just as many people walking about as the front did. A lot of them favoured a large, metal door up a tiny flight of stairs, keycards flashed to unlock it before it was held open for several people at a time, everyone helping each other in the most efficient of ways. You had no idea which one Phil was supposed to be, and if you waited too long you might get pinned as a fan trying to sneak in, so the next time someone approached the area you were lurking in you got the card back out and held it out to him.

‘Um, I’m supposed to find Phil?’ you said uncertainly, the man looking you over before taking the card. ‘Ja- Mr. Delroy told me to meet him here.’

‘How’d you meet Jack?’ he asked, clearly recognizing the handwriting but wanting to be certain all the same as he handed it back to you.

‘At Carmichael Haig’s show, we got to talk for a little bit,’ you explained, your nerves starting to rise the longer you were out there, the paranoia that you wouldn’t be able to get in starting to rise in your chest.

‘Ohhh, so you’re the one he was telling Gus about,’ the man said with a grin, your back straightening at the very thought of Jack talking about you with anyone, let alone with someone in a public place. ‘Yeah, he told me to expect someone, I’ll take you up there now if you help me carry something, save me a trip?’

You agreed to his terms, the man apparently being Phil as he shook your hand and handed you the box he was balancing on one arm as you talked. He quickly jogged back to his car to grab another box before returning to you, the door held open for you both as you squeezed past another employee and followed him through the maze of hallways and way too many doors to count. The studio itself was actually on the second floor, the first dedicated to offices and meeting rooms and other businessy things, the elevator able to just barely let you both cram inside as everyone got ready for the taping.

‘Is it always this hectic?’ you asked before you realized you were even opening your mouth, Phil just laughing and adjusting his box.

‘Every single night.’

Once the elevator had pinged and the doors had slid open, Phil then led you through a few more hallways until he pushed through a locked STAFF ONLY door, even more people on the other side, although there was more to the area back here, your eyes widening when it hit you that this was the back of Jack’s set. Phil noticed your excitement and set his box down on the nearest table, taking yours in another swift movement before motioning towards the slightly ajar wall panel; the audience’s seats were just in view through the crack, some people already coming in and finding their spots, and you were just in the middle of wondering if you should attempt finding an empty one when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

‘Quite the view, isn’t it?’

You turned to see Jack standing behind you, a look of pure bliss on his face as he watched the band get ready, Gus talking to someone and going over scripts off to the right, the few audience members chatting with each other as they guessed what they’d see that night. He truly loved this job, you could tell he did even after doing it for so many years, and seeing him so in love only made you love him even more. He looked down at you then, a fondness in his eyes as he gave your shoulder a squeeze and led you around back, a little tour before you had to leave him.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he admitted as you took everything in, everyone shifting their gaze towards the both of you as long as they thought they could get away with it. ‘Been looking forward to tonight all week, what did you think of the lineup?’

‘I, uh-’ you trailed off as he pulled you out of the way of a staff member carrying the requested items for tonight’s guest, your coat suddenly feeling way too warm to still be wearing inside. ‘I missed out on them, actually, been a busy week,’ you lied, avoiding his face as your cheeks lit up; you were not about to tell him that it was because looking at him made you remember how he’d felt pressed up against your waist, even if it was fake.

A shiver ran up your spine as you then realized that the heat against your back very much wasn’t however.

‘I’ll have to tell you all about it later, don’t want you missing out on anything,’ he said with a grin, your lips trembling as you tried to keep your smile from getting any bigger. There was no way he’d actually do that, he had to be too busy to entertain you when the PMs turned to AMs, but it was a nice thought indeed.

‘I’d like that,’ you admitted either way, happy to live in the fantasy for just a little bit at least.

‘Jack!’ someone called from just out of sight, a curly-haired man in sunglasses hunting him down with expert precision as he hurried over. ‘Gus just told me you’ve been saving seats all week, you wanna explain why that is?’

‘And there’s my cue,’ he whispers in your ear before using your shoulders to turn you and guide you back to the slit in the wall. ‘Middle front row, furthest left seat,’ he whispered before pushing you to the other side, his attention turned to his producer as he descended upon him for losing them money. You listened for just a second before it hit you that you were there, you were really there, your mouth dropping open as you slowly spun to check out the Night Owls set. People were whispering about who you might be but you didn’t care, not leaving until you heard Gus clear his throat and ask what you were doing.

‘Finding my seat,’ you mumbled, although maybe it had come out as nonsense in your delighted stupor, you couldn’t be sure at the moment.

‘Okay, do you have a ticket?’ he asked, still so polite even though he was very much confused. You just held up the card again, your eyes going higher as you stared at all the lights. ‘I see, so you’re the one he’s been waiting for, right this way.’

The one he’s been waiting for? Clearly you must’ve misheard, Jack Delroy couldn’t possibly have been that excited for you, you’d only spoken for maybe five minutes, tops.

Gus led you to your seat and you instantly sank into it, a 40 minute wait still ahead of you but it felt like no time at all as the rows all filled up and people slowly stopped walking across the set to prepare. On either side of you, cameramen took their places and lined up their shots, the blue screen of the viewfinder catching your attention as you couldn’t help but see what they saw. Gus got himself ready by the band, who were all tuned up and ready to go, and when midnight hit and Gus started calling out that night’s guests, you couldn’t help but bite your lip again as Jack’s name was announced and the wall opened up again to reveal him.

He’d been right, it was an incredible show, his presence so much more overwhelming as you could only focus on him no matter who he stood or sat beside. Every single one of his jokes landed, every eccentric wave of his hands drew you in without fail, and every single smile he shot your way when you laughed only confirmed more and more that you were genuinely glad you came. He tried to talk to you during the breaks but each time he’d been interrupted either by one of his co-workers or someone in the audience ready to snatch up his attention, Jack too polite to refuse either, although it was honestly starting to make you a little jealous.

Before you knew it, his hour had passed and he was saying goodbye, your chest deflating as he was played out again along with his final guest, your hands a little numb as you gave him his well deserved applause. You didn’t want to get up and leave as the rest of the people around you did without hesitation, a chorus of yawns starting to infect everyone like a virus now that it was officially bedtime. You were rooted to the spot, hands clasped in your lap as you wondered if it’d be too presumptuous to assume that maybe he’d come back out again when everyone was gone, wish you your own personal goodnight, people staring again as you waited until you accepted that you’d fulfilled his request, there was no need to stay now.

‘Oh good, you’re still here,’ Jack panted as he jogged over to you, a sheen on his cheeks and forehead from the excitement of the night mixed in with the hot stage lights, ‘I was worried you’d leave when Leo grabbed me just now.’ 

‘I’m in no hurry,’ you told him as you stood, your clasped hands hiding behind your back so he wouldn’t see you fidgeting. ‘It was a great show, I had a lot of fun tonight.’

His smile turned from Showman Jack to Genuine Jack at that, your ability to always tell coming in handy yet again as you tried to hide your blush by tucking your hair behind your ear. ‘I take it you had a more enjoyable time with me than at Haig’s, then?’ he asked, your blushing deepening at his choice of words.

‘I did, yeah.’ Everyone was packing up for the night around you, no one giving you a passing glance as the desire to get home and sleep overtook their curiosity, and when he stifled a yawn you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at keeping him. ‘All good things must come to an end though, I suppose; I should really get heading back, it’ll be a nightmare to find a cab this late.’ You didn’t want to go, but you also didn’t want to press your luck either, and maybe you’d get another invitation to another show, who knew?

‘I could give you a ride, if you wanted,’ he offered, completely catching you off guard as your eyes widened for a second in surprise. ‘Or, if you’re truly a night owl like me, you’d prefer to join me for a drink? I always grab one after a show, can’t sleep otherwise.’

You swallowed, mouth cotton dry as you went over his offer in your head a few times; was he asking you out on a date? He had to have been, who else went out to get a drink together at 1AM other than people on dates, right? ‘Yeah, a drink sounds great,’ you finally managed to squeak out, the corners of his eyes scrunching when he smiled before offering his arm for you to take, a true gentleman. He led you back through the labyrinth until you reached the parking lot, his car parked in a spot with his name plastered against the wall behind it, most of the other cars already gone now that their owners were free.

His car was simple, nothing too flashy like someone else in his position would own, the seats worn on the inside and telling you that he must’ve had it for many years. You tried not to look too nervous as he unlocked his door and let himself in, his long body stretching across the front so he could unlock the passenger side as well; an old car indeed, he was taking very good care of it for it to still look that good. You thanked him as you sat down and shut the door, the smell of his cologne stealing your breath away as you were surrounded by purely him, the faint smell of smoke mixing in with it, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried not to look too obvious.

He shot you a glance as he clicked his seatbelt into place, the noise making you come back to your senses and do the same so he could start driving. There were quite a few bars around there, some late night diners as well, and you grew more and more confused as he drove by all of them without a word. By the time you left the city and started to head towards a more residential area, you were starting to wonder if you were going for a drink at all, not remembering ever telling him where you lived, of course this neighborhood was much too nice, maybe you should be flattered if he thought you lived around here.

‘Are we still…?’ you tried to ask, your question dying out as he then turned into the driveway of a very nice but modestly sized house, all the lights off inside telling you that no one was home. He didn’t turn off the engine though, his eyes on the wheel before he turned to you, a hopeful something in his eyes that mirrored your own.

‘Would you like to come inside? Or should we try calling that cab?’ he asked you gently, giving you the choice of what you wanted to do now that you knew where you’d be drinking, your heart thumping a little faster as you adjusted the strap of your purse and flashed him the most confident smile you could muster.

‘You did promise to tell me all about the shows I miss,’ you reminded him, Jack’s smile softening as he agreed with a, ‘Yes I did.’ The engine shut off and you both exited the car, the night air making you shiver as you held your coat a little tighter over your arms. He noticed immediately, his suit jacket draped over you before you could confirm or deny you wanted it, heat spreading throughout you as the scent of his cologne hit you even harder. You wrapped yourself up in it, face tucked into the collar as you headed for his front door, always a few steps behind until he unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing you to go in first.

It was a modest place, decorated more cozily than anything, and you felt right at home as you stepped inside and took a look around; the walls held photos of family and friends, his coworkers and people he’d met through Night Owls spaced out around them, the surfaces of every table and shelf decorated with something and filling the space while also feeling sparse. Cozy was definitely the right word, but it also felt like a bachelor pad in the way he’d left clothes draped over the back of the couch, how the kitchen was pristinely clean from rare use based on the amount of menus he’d collected into the holder by his phone, and the dedicated minibar off in the corner so he could entertain guests.

He headed there now as you observed your surroundings, his voice breaking your thoughts as he asked you to pick your poison. You gave him your desired drink request, Jack’s eyes shining as he located the bottle amongst the plethora of them in his reserve, whisky placed next to it as he located a couple of glasses next. ‘Ice?’ he asked casually as he poured both drinks, you kindly refusing as he grabbed a couple for himself. The ice crackled in his glass as he returned, the sound pleasant to you and filling the air as he handed you your drink. ‘I’d offer you a seat at the table, but my back is killing me tonight, if you’d rather join me on the couch?’

What a liar, you could always tell when he was acting. You accepted anyways, pretending to buy into it as you both took opposite ends of the old leather couch situated in front of his fireplace. The cushions creaked underneath as you sat down, Jack letting out a sigh that didn’t sound fake as he relaxed, his body sinking right in before he took a sip and turned to look at you. You blushed and looked away, focusing on your glass as you swirled the contents around, now wishing for ice since watching it would be a good distraction.

You’d been so focused on his home that it was starting to dawn on you that you were in his home, on his couch, drinking his liquor, his focus on nothing and no one other than you. ‘Dreamer, here, awake,’ you whispered softly under your breath, remembering what Haig had said to snap you out of it and needing to make sure this wasn’t just another dream.

‘What was that?’

Oh god, it wasn’t a dream, you were really here, and his arm was now on the back of the couch, casually reaching towards you as he tilted his head to the side with an amused grin. 

‘So, how did the shows that I missed go?’ you quickly choked out, Jack chuckling at how your voice sounded way more broken than you’d wanted before downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

‘Well, on Monday I got to interview someone about his upcoming play, so that was interesting,’ he began, his body turned more towards you as he spoke. ‘On Tuesday, we had a man who sailed halfway around the world and narrowly survived being shipwrecked, and he read us an excerpt from his captain’s log, which he revealed he’ll be turning into a book to preserve the memories of his shipmates.’ He slid a little down the leather, genuine interest in his eyes as he spoke, that another thing you loved about him. ‘Wednesday was Game Night, as you know, and one of our audience members managed to win the jackpot and gave us a victory dance to celebrate. Gus tried to attempt it and fell on his ass, so everyone made me try it and I nearly crashed into my stage, everyone had a lot of fun that night.

His voice started to soften as he moved a little closer, your body frozen in both awe at what you’d missed and also the sight of him starting to fill up your entire view, your drink forgotten in your hands.

‘And then on Thursday we took a call from a man who thought he had superpowers, can you believe that? He truly believed he got them from another dimension, so fascinating.’ He was just about to slide over the middle cushion, your legs pressing tightly together so you wouldn’t touch him on accident, your lip worried between your teeth again. ‘I asked him to come on the show, but he hung up, I hope he calls again next week.’ His arm was completely behind you you finally noticed as his thumb brushed against your shoulder just enough for you to feel it over your coat and his suit jacket, the heat of both starting to make you sweat as he stayed just outside your personal space, ever the gentleman as he waited for you to tell him to back up. 

You didn’t, your tongue darting out and tasting your lipstick as you glanced to the side, seeing just enough of him to know that he didn’t look dangerous, or overly sexual like your fantasy had been, his actual expression one of wonder as he remained just out of reach. You felt like you had to comment on his week, say something in response to what he was telling you but you couldn’t, the sound of his thumb running over the fabric directly in your ear as you finally took your first sip.

‘Sounds like I missed a lot,’ you eventually said, Jack nodding and shifting as he got comfier, the movement sending him a little closer to you. ‘Maybe you should invite me back again, I could probably make time for that.’

‘I’ll have to see if I can get you an actual ticket this time, then, Leo was very unhappy I snuck you in.’ His voice was so low as you took another, bigger sip, his arm sliding off the back of the couch and just barely resting against the very bottom of your neck.

‘Is that what that was? I’ll be sure to use the front door next time.’ Another sip, his other hand in plain sight on his thigh as it traveled down towards you. 

‘I think I’d prefer to escort you in myself, so you don’t get lost, it’s like a maze in there.’ You watched his hand just barely touch the hem of his jacket, a soft hum leaving his throat as his eyes half-lidded. ‘You look good in this, I might have to let you borrow it more often.’

‘You assume I’ll need it again? How presumptuous of you,’ you joked in an attempt to keep things light, but it fell flat as you looked at him while you said it, his expression rendering you speechless in seconds. Now that you were facing him he couldn’t resist the urge to touch your cheek, his fingertips just barely brushing against you and making you shut your eyes as you tried to lean against them, the contact causing shivers to run down your spine at how incredibly gentle it was.

‘I really am glad you came tonight,’ he whispered as he leaned in, breath soft against your face as you both held off from closing the gap, ‘god, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

You nearly dropped the glass, Jack placing his hand over yours to make sure you didn’t before taking it away entirely. ‘Y-you’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you repeated from your fantasy, Jack leaning away to set the glass down before letting his forehead rest against your own.

‘Is it working?’

You grabbed onto his tie and pulled him into you, your mouths crashing together as you kissed him with all the need of someone who’d wanted this for years. He braced himself on the back of the couch as you leaned against the arm, your body arching up as he rearranged how he was sitting to kneel over you. He wasn’t as forward as your fantasy, which was understandable considering you knew very well that he’d only acted the exact way you wanted, but instead you discovered that he was slow, making as many points of contact as he could while giving you space. He was obsessed with kissing away the rest of your lipstick but he never tried to take more than you were giving him, your bodies still too far apart as he caressed you.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he repeated as his hand left your jaw to travel down to your hip, not to hold down or make you keen but just to feel the soft curve of your body; he was committing you to memory, tracing over each wrinkle in the fabric, each place that made you squirm just a little.

‘Jack…’ you sighed as he pushed both coats aside to gently kiss at your neck, small things that made you want beyond the sweetness, the love. ‘Don’t make me wait anymore, please…’

He pressed a single kiss to your jaw at that, sitting back just enough so he could look at your face. You turned away, embarrassed by your neediness, but he turned you back to him with only a whisper of a touch, a plea instead of a command. ‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, lips hovering just above yours, pulling away when you tried to close the gap.

‘Years.’

He kissed you again, a little rougher this time as his own need was made clear, his body shifting down until he was laying himself on top of you, and for however real your fantasy had felt, it was fucking nothing compared to the weight of him pressing pure want directly into your waist. It made you gasp how good he felt, your legs spreading until your skirt wouldn’t stretch any further, the desire to hike it up all the way so you could feel him a little better making you almost actually do it. It was him who made that move when he felt you struggling, your legs pressed into his almost uncomfortably, and he placed his hands at the hem and waited for your okay, not wanting to do anything without your permission.

What a fucking gentleman.

You nodded and he lifted your skirt, your back arching off the couch so it could be bunched up, your underwear on display just the smallest amount before your skirt was let go. That small amount made him blush, his lips parting as he then palmed himself to ease the strain of his own clothes, his nice suit pulled taut over his dick as he kneaded. It made you want him even more, the fantasies of seeing him like that deciding to play like the world’s longest and lewdest film in your mind, reminding you of every single thing you wanted to do to him, what you wanted him to do to you.

‘I want to feel you,’ you told him, his eyes fluttering shut like the quicktalking showman Mr. Midnight couldn’t handle a bit of dirty talk; he was so cute it almost hurt as he moved his hand aside for you, granting you access to the space while he tried to undo his belt. You rubbed him over his pants, listening to the sounds he was making and letting your desire grow with each one, and when his belt was undone and his zipper was down you tugged just his pants over his hips just enough to show off his bulge a little better. It strained over the opening, the sight so tantalizing that you’d risk staying hypnotized forever if this really was just another dream, his body laying down over yours again as you wrapped your leg around him.

He started to grind against you, the fantasy definitely not doing him justice as a sinful heat warmed you up in an instant, the coats much too hot as you tried to strip them both off. He helped you but didn’t stop moving, each thrust just enough to create the best friction you’d ever experienced. There was no audience this time, no one to risk ruining this for you, and you took full advantage of that as you let out a deviously loud moan when he rubbed against you just right. 

‘God…’ he panted into your neck, hips moving just a little faster, and it felt good but it wasn’t what you wanted, not entirely. You reached down between where your bodies touched to try and get a hold of his boxers, your nails catching over the waistband just out of reach. He felt your attempts and knew what you were trying to do, his face unsure even though he still couldn’t stop. ‘Are you sure?’ he needed to know, his hips finally stilling for the most part, your eyes watering with how much you meant it as you told him yes. He groaned as he reached between your legs, feeling your wetness seeping through your panties as you moved against him, your head instantly falling back.

The sounds you let out were indecent, he wasn’t even inside you yet and he was making you fall apart just because it was him who was doing this, his fingers rewriting your brain and telling you that you’d never be able to get off on just your imagination ever again. He played with you as his other hand pushed his boxers down the rest of the way, his dick falling free and making him hiss as he gave himself a few strokes, the sound getting you to look up. Your legs twitched as you almost came just from the sight alone, his eyes shut tight as his head lolled to the side, his impressive length looking even bigger in his hand as he got himself ready.

As soon as he felt your eyes on him he locked onto you, his big, showman smile showing a little more teeth than usual as he let you watch, his own sounds almost addicting as he let you know exactly how good his own hand felt. Between the sight and his hands making the both of you feel good, you didn’t know how much more you could take of this before you were shoving him down, Jack sensing your desperation and leaning back over you. He pulled aside your panties and rubbed you a couple more times before pressing his waist against yours, spreading your wetness along the underside of his shaft, grinding against you this way until you were practically begging him to do more, please.

He chuckled at your reaction before taking himself in hand again, spreading it even more before holding himself up to your entrance, one last chance to back out. You made sure to lock eyes with him as you grabbed his tie and pulled him down to you once more, your mouth falling open as he pushed deep inside of you the more you pulled. You didn’t stop until you were full, the two of you panting into each other's mouth before he started to move, both of your legs wrapping around him this time as you tried to take him even deeper.

It was hot, you were sweating, you could see the sheen on his cheeks and forehead again as he suffered in the almost entirety of his suit versus your outfit, and you helped him relieve some of his suffering as you started to unbutton his shirt. You shoved it off one shoulder before he was tearing it off of himself and tossing it away, your own shirt pushed up to reveal a heaving stomach, muscles working hard under the flesh as he thrust into you, your body unable to move with him thanks to the arm of the couch keeping you in place.

It ensured he always hit the deepest part of you since your body couldn’t shift away, one of your hands on your stomach while the other took his own and placed it on your chest. He began to knead you over your bra, it soon out of the way as he yanked it down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple, his motions speeding up a bit as you tangled your now free hand into his hair. ‘You feel so good,’ you couldn’t stop yourself from saying then, starting to get overstimulated, and at your words he jerked a little erratically, like it’d made him stumble. ‘You- you were so handsome tonight, did so well, I couldn’t stop staring at you…’

He was moaning nonsense into your chest as you praised him, something about what you were saying making him fall apart; his head rested against you as he rutted into you with wild abandon, your hands just holding him there as you kept whispering what he wanted to hear. You meant it, every word, but to know that this much was making him practically whine against you was also addicting, needing him to know everything you felt for him, how proud you were of him, how you’d never be able to feel anyone but him for the rest of your life.

‘Come inside me, make me yours, I want to be yours,’ you pleaded, Jack grasping at you like a drowning man grasps at his saviour, a few more thrusts making your head fall back before he did just that. His hips jutted a few more times as warmth filled your insides, the sensation mixed with his broken gasps bringing you over the edge as well, his nails digging into your flesh where he held you, your hands thoroughly messing up his perfectly styled hair. When he was done he collapsed against you, his weight once again so incredibly nice as he pinned you against the cushions, the leather sticking to your skin and keeping you very much in place.

‘If I’m too heavy-’ he started to say before he shifted and cut himself off with a whine, his attempts to get up thwarted immediately.

‘You’re not,’ you reassured him, your fingers attempting to straighten his hair back into place, a small courtesy for him letting you grab him so hard in the first place. ‘We can just… stay a while.’

‘Do you wanna risk that? I might fall asleep on you like this,’ he asked like it’d be a bad thing; what a gentleman.

‘I think that’d be worth the risk,’ you told him as you kissed his forehead, Jack reaching up to cup your cheek before gathering all his strength to kiss you goodnight.

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/thicciardo/761905055702122496?source=share

Having big thoughts about Daniel being a photographer and Max being still a F1 driver kajgkajgksjjg. Maybe Daniel needs the money so he takes a job being a F1 photographer and it's not his passion exactly but it pays well. He is going to take pictures of cars going vroom, travel everywhere and being paid for it (so he can take pics of what he really loves. What it is? I don't know).

But he didn't know Max. Like, he was aware that Max was F1 world champion??? But he didn't expect Max to be so breathtakingly beautiful. So maybe he has a little crisis about it. Idksugid. I have to go to sleep but ESIIIIII DANIEL BEING A PHOTOGRAPHER 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Hello lovely I miss you!!! I have been having big thoughts about this since I saw your ask last night, but I only have this little thing to offer. Might revisit in the future because I love this idea very much <3

Daniel doesn't exactly know how he finds out about the job offer. He thinks maybe Blake mentioned it to him, having heard about it from a friend of a friend, but it's not really important.

It wouldn't be a bad gig: being able to travel the world, mingling with famous people, filling his portfolio, and getting paid for it. Sure, cars and millionaires aren't exactly his preferred subjects, but he can look past it for that kind of salary and perks.

So he goes over his CV, trying to make himself sound more professional than he feels, and sends it. You miss every chance you don't take and all that.

He's not expecting to be called back, to be honest. Even fattening his portfolio with all the people photos he has, good or less good, he knows it's mostly wildlife and nature, not exactly what a formula 1 team might look for, and yet, two weeks later, he wakes up to an email with three suggested dates for an online interview and a we'd be excited to offer you a position as soon as possible.

And three weeks after that, he's stepping on a plane, flight fully paid and brain already adding up his new salary to the savings in his bank account.

--

The scanner beeps when Daniel puts his pass against it, a thrill of excitement traveling down his spine at the small sound, and then he finds himself in the paddock.

It's still early, so it's not as crowded as it will for sure become later, but it still makes him think of the savannah, people milling around minding their business, swayed from time to time by the sudden arrival of a celebrity or a driver, circles forming and breaking, flocks in the grass.

It settles his mind to think about this as another wildlife shoot, as if this wasn't a stepping stone towards his dream, but the open door to it already, and he makes himself smile by taking a picture of Lewis Hamilton like he would of a leopard, half hidden behind a plant, light catching his earring like a fleeting spot. Even the cars have something animal about them, growling engines and opening wings, wheels pushing the ground like running deer.

The Red Bull hospitality building (a waterhole, his brain suggests) welcomes him with air conditioning and handshakes, both from people he's met already the one time he has gone to the factory, and from strangers, too many names being thrown at him to try and remember them.

And then there's Max Verstappen.

Daniel hadn't met him at the factory. He knows who he is, obviously. Even if formula 1 isn't his preferred flavor of motorsport, he is not completely clueless about it, and he had brushed up his knowledge before coming here, just to try and make sure he doesn't embarrass himself. And yet, it is different to meet him in person.

Daniel had watched two videos of him to prepare himself: one about his racing, and one interview. The racing had been incredible. The interview had been so awkward and stiff Daniel had spent several minutes looking at the ceiling, trying to think about how to justify his yet-to-be-shot photos being shit without saying your driver is the worst model I've ever seen.

He doesn't look bad, of course he doesn't, he is actually quite handsome, but there's such a stiffness and coldness around him, one that screams rude entitled bastard from a mile away, and Daniel does not work well with that. He has actually been wondering if he had been chosen, with his warm toned photos and his soft focus, just to try and soften his edges a little.

So he's not surprised by the firmness of the handshake, or the quick Max as an answer to Daniel's hello I'm Daniel, it's great to meet you!, both exactly what he had been expecting, but then Max smiles and suddenly Daniel's fingers are itching for his camera.

Max's eyes crinkle when he smiles.

His cheeks bunch up, plush lips stretching wide, the freckle Daniel had already noticed almost disappearing, and suddenly it's prairie crocus in the alpine tundra, color and spring impossibly breaking the cold.

Daniel wants to capture the wrinkles by his eyes in golden light, wants to steal the sparkle in the blue, frame it like sunshine on the ocean, wants to take the blush on his cheek and print it, press his fingertips to every magnified pore. He can't wait to see him put on his helmet, wants to see the arch of his nose framed by the visor.

Suddenly, from mostly neutral bystander, he's turned into avid fan, desperately wishing Max wins, to shoot him through champagne drops.

Maybe this job will be his easiest one yet, after all.

[bi-scottsummers]

Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.

hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:

Kenji & Emi

Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked

he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters

they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)

while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end

Kenji

developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them

^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end

didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend

he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers

Kenji & Ami

both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic

kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it

need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies

before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman

thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)

[fujii-draws]

VERY long Ribbons/Grovyle tangent cause I do not talk about them nearly enough.

[Instead of the usual, “Hero finding a young Treecko in the future.” It’s switched around to “What if Grovyle found Hero when they were young.”]

~The Past~

—————

-Grovyle was going on one of his usual dungeon crawls to stock up on items— until he heard nearby sniffling. It’s there in that moment where he finds Ribbons; hiding under the stump of a hollow tree curled up in a ball. The sight of a small, terrified girl burned in the back of the wood gecko’s mind.

He lowered himself to the ground, his snout and head poking out as he got a good look at the human— Something that made her reel back and startled her; before Grovyle offered her a smile. Something the stoic grass-type rarely ever did. Coaxing her to come out.

And although very hesitantly, she did. Slowly coming out before he extended a hand towards her. Helping her outside the stump.

Grovyle didn’t know why… but seeing her so disheveled and terrified… it reminded the grass-type of himself when he was a Treecko. He decides to then to take Ribbon’s under his wing. Holding her hand as he walked her back to his main hideout… with the company of two other Pokémon.

-He introduced the small human to the pink fairy and ghost-type. Celebi was overwhelmingly cheerful. So much so that her mischievous energy rubbed off on Ribbons in the future. Much to Grovyle and Dusclops(and eventually Dusknoir’s) dismay…

But it was also probably why Ribbons made it her mission to use this newfound ability from the fairy-type to do the impossible— to get Grovyle to smile. A rarity in which even the time-traveling pixie and cyclopean ghost never managed to accomplish. Ribbons remembered how the grass-type done so just to comfort her during their first meeting… and she wanted to see it again.

-She tried many times with her antics, only to end in failure. Barely making a dent in the grass-type’s stoic demeanor. The first time she managed to get a chuckle made the other two stare wide-eyed towards the snickering grass-type— and back at the human, somehow being the only one to ever make him emote so much. She didn’t know why he tried to hide his smile. She loved it. (And Grovyle did not overhear this detail and began to open up only specifically around her because of it. Nope.) (and it’s not a power she holds over him for many years to come.)

(That isn’t to say Ribbon’s didn’t slightly rub off on him too, with her naivety and innocent, trusting behavior. Grovyle being much, much more reserved and cautious… before she came along.)

-Dusclops… was interested. A human? In the future no less? It was unheard of.

…But he also thought that Ribbons would be a detriment to their group with how… little and runt sized she’d been, barely surviving as is. Acting rather closed off towards the human at first, not trying to get attached. That is until she begins seeking Dusclops out. Trying to befriend the slightly large mummy-looking Pokémon. Although slowly— she ends up winning him over. The Beckon Pokémon now having unintentionally formed a bond with the weakest link in their quartet due to how… oddly endearing she was. A mistake he’d repeat yet again in the present.

Even with her dimensional scream ability making Ribbons a somewhat useful assest to the team— the three take on the roll of her guardians in a weird way. Dusclops being the one to fret the most over her despite his dismissive behavior towards her in the beginning (hm.)

And then there’s Grovyle.

The one who probably spent the most time with her. He saw just how terrified and scared she was of the world around her. Grovyle tried his best to teach her how to survive— training her physically. (as Dusclops taught her mentally/intellectually)

Something Grovyle started to notice was how her demeanor changed when the grass-type was close. Acting almost… braver? Confident? It was like she was drawing her strength from him… something that made the grass-type a little emotional as her confidence grew more with each day. (She told him as much. Hoping some day she could be a role model to someone the same way Grovyle was to her.)

…He also noticed that the humans were also really susceptible to the cold, much like his cold-blooded lizard self—the brunette-haired girl having no real source of warmth around her neck… Grovyle dug through his matted Treasure bag, asking for her to come over. Before tying on a brown, Patsy ribbon around her neck. An item that she’d grow to love and cherish for many, many years.

The human girl absolutely adored the gift, thanking Grovyle before hugging him suddenly. Running off to show the other two her newfound item.

-She’d fidget and re-tie it whenever it slightly loosened around her neck… it was then the grass-type Pokémon finally decided on a name for her. Up until that point, she didn’t have a name— the other three opting to call her things like “human girl” “sweetie” or “kid/kiddo” (Dusclops, Celebi, and Grovyle in that order.)

So when Grovyle decided that her new name would be “Ribbons”… she kept it.

(this also explained why when inside of Wigglytuff’s room… Ribbons stared at the Green Aura Bow, before rejecting the item harshly. Her claws gripping onto the brown scarf around her neck.) (…although the color of the bow comforted her)

-The two end up forming an unspoken familial bond. Ribbons seeing Grovyle as her older brother… and the grass-type did her baby sister. This was further solidified by the way Ribbons followed him everywhere and copied his mannerisms. All the way down to his scrunched up, embarrassed face. (Something that greatly entertained the other two Pokémon.) Even if Grovyle wasn’t the best at showing how much she meant to him with his sternness for her to stay hidden and close whenever they traveled, or for her to stop goofing off so much, or his relatively stoicalness… Ribbons knew he did so because of how much he cared. He cared too much. Not wanting anything bad happening to her to the point that he’d more often than not sacrifice things to his detriment, but for her benefit. (Offering her all of the apples he found, taking the brunt of the damage from vicious Pokémon… ) It was one of the main things the two argued over.

-This… was also something Ribbons picked up on and inherited besides his courage. Something that Grovyle never forgave himself for. He never wanted her to adopt his self-destructive, reckless behavior.

-Another thing was his inability to tell her the full truth. He never wanted to scare her with the information of their disappearances. So the grass-type never told Ribbons (and made sure the other two promised him to never do so aswell.) (Until Dusknoir promptly breaks said promise out of desperation to tell Ribbons the gravity of their situation after the Stoneship fight. Grovyle glaring daggers towards the Ghost-type before hearing Ribbon’s quiet, yet terrified “W-What..?” Falling back on her old fears when she was once human—Grovyle taking his attention fully off of Dusknoir to try and comfort her.)

But even after any heated argument. Grovyle will find the human girl coming back to sleep right next to him on his hay bed, still very much frustrated with the lizard… but not pushing her away when she snuggled up to him. Grovyle reciprocated the hug right back— putting his head over hers.

Out of her relationships with the three, her bond with Grovyle was the most unbreakable.

…So when Darkrai threw the attack that disoriented the two, Grovyle gripping Ribbons’s arm as tightly as possible. His claws beginning to even tear into her skin. (A scar on her paw that never went away. She uses it as a reminder to show the woodland gecko how hard he tried to save her whenever he felt guilty.) Trying so desperately to not lose her— even if it meant being thrown out of the passage of Time aswell—

…It’s Ribbons who lets go, smiling up so brokenly at her older brother, before disappearing out the passage. And the grass-type can only watch in horror, as the self-sacrificial behavior Ribbons inherited from him came back to bite Grovyle in the worst way imaginable.

By the time Grovyle lands in the present— his claws are trembling wildly. Not even realizing his own tears began to mix in with the rain from the thunderstorm.

——————

~The Present~

——————

When he’s collecting the Time Gears alone— the desperation of it all comes back full force. If he lost her, the least he can do is finish this mission. For the future. For her.

-When Grovyle sees Ribbons for the first time in the Northern Desert, he doesn’t recognize her as an Eevee. But the item around her neck and voice both sound so eerily similar. As if this random Pokémon was haunting him for his past failures. If anything, the similarities make Grovyle even more angry towards the quadraped Pokémon.

-Crystal lake… really sucked. Before, Ribbons didn’t know what to feel about Grovyle. On one hand, he was a wanted criminal. Threatening the lives of every single Pokémon. But on the other hand… she felt so… sad? And guilty? Why would she feel guilty? And why was it that he was apologizing every single time for every little thing he’d done? Like he’d lost his confidence in his abilities? Why does it matter. He’s a horrible, rotten— no good Pokémon…

-It was when Ribbons had to helplessly watch as he nearly killed Aimilios that her resolve did a complete 180°. The Eevee being prepared to do whatever to took to get him caught. Joining the cloaked ghost in the library whenever she could, (even if she wasn’t as smart as the Great Dusknoir or her Riolu partner. She wanted to at least give them company and be there for moral support.)

And when he’s finally… finally caught. Tied up as the Sableye walked him through the town as they cheered… Ribbons isn’t celebrating. She should be. She should be happy. So why does she feel a horrible gut feeling when their eyes meet in the crowd? And he looks seconds away from breaking down…?

-

-The whole future arc is a rollercoaster of emotions for the Eevee. Although she’s immediately with Grovyle on the plan to help him escape— she does not trust him so quick.

-No. That time was over. The second Dusknoir tried to kill them, both her (and soon Aimilios’s) tendencies to trust Pokemon blindly were thrown out the window. They’re both are glaring daggers at him when he suggests that they trust him. That ‘If he was so untrustworthy, how would they explain what Dusknoir had done back there?’ Ribbons protectively gets in-front of her partner— hissing back that ‘They aren’t going to trade one lunatic trying to kill them for another. Or did Grovyle already forget about the little incident at Azelf’s lake?’

…And even though her and Aimilios do feel safer around him. (Gut feeling/aura sensing) it just feels so terrifying to trust someone again after what the giant wraith did to them. Not only that, but he was offering to take them back to their world… so they cautiously agreed.

It’s... strange. The way he’d called out for her and Aimilios to get away when Spiritomb had him in their grasp. When they traversed dungeons as he took as many hits as possible for them…the familiarity is almost nauseating.

And when Dusknoir reveals everything, the two only stare at the cloaked ghost-type cackling. The same one they both once thought was their friend.

She and Grovyle only stare at eachother as a painful amount of time passes by. He..

He tried to kill her.

She was still alive and he almost—

The realization is what makes him give up. To concede. Begging Dusknoir to just do away with him and let the other go. Let her go.

—

-When they’re in the Sharpedo Bluff during the nighttime— Grovyle explains the situation to the two… staring at Ribbons with hopeful eyes, sharing recollections of how they once were. Of how close they’d been. Hoping that it’d re-jog her memory now that he was there to explain the situation.

…Ribbons only stares. Guilt eating away the more Grovyle retold their supposed history. How the hope slowly died in his eyes little by little when he looked at the Eevee— seeing that same, clueless expression on her face.

One of Ribbons biggest fears when it came to her amnesia was forgetting someone important to her. Always having the dreaded feeling of losing three important Pokémon to her. And now one of them was trying to kill them. Aimilios reassured her many nights that it wasn’t the case. So for that fear to become a reality— her ears slump, the Eevee’s messy, leaf-and-twigged tail curling around her in anxiety. She wants to apologize— but she only breaks away eye contact.

She forgot. She wants to remember. But she can’t she can’t she can’t-

Ribbons sees Grovyle trying to reach out for her— only for the small quadruped to back away. Still too touch-adverse from everything that went down with Dusknoir. All the Eevee can do is watch Grovyle’s expression turned into a pained one. Trying to hide the hurt in his eye with a wry smile as he slowly retracted his arm, ”Ah… right. Too soon. Forgive me.”

…It’s a very rough night on the two of them. Both Pokémon completely unaware that they’d been trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill in their eyes. Eventually overwhelming and awakening the aura pup.

-

When they rode Lapras, presumably for many hours by now by how night fell, white stars scattering across the sky as it reflected in the dark blue sea. The Riolu had slept soundly— something that couldn’t be said for the other two.

Ribbon’s curled around her partner as he slept, grooming his fur with her tongue… before looking over towards the grass-type; something very much on his mind.

Grovyle looked pensively down towards Lapras’s shell— recalling Wigglytuff’s comment about how Chatot had been his ‘invaluable partner.’ The woodland gecko gripping the strap of his treasure bag. Unaware of the Eevee slowly approaching him. He stares— unsure of what to do. The last time they’d talked was at the Bluff, when she backed away from him in fear.

…Ribbons plopped right next to the grass-type, waiting for the uncomfortable silence to pass. When she realized he wasn’t going to cut the tension, she opted to ask the lizard what she was thinking about since their talk at the bluff.

“What was it like…?”

“What…?”

“Y-yknow…W-When we were together… What was it like?”

The small Eevee repeated. Wanting to hear stories of their times together… Memory or no memory— she hated seeing Grovyle upset. Something that was practically built into her. Like it’d been second nature.

Grovyle hesitates, afraid of a repeat of last time. He looks at Ribbons who was staring up coyly… before going on to explain and further elaborate on their history. He studied her expressions, trying to get a read on when he should stop… only to be greeted with an cheerful look on her face. The same, goofy one plastered on her human-self.

Grovyle calms at the sight, continuing to looks back on memories— preferably the more lighthearted ones the woodland gecko fondly looked back on. Although within those silly memories were times when Ribbons did… admittedly some of the dumbest things he’d witnessed during their time in the future.

What makes him smile even more is how she began to look more offended. Until she’d gotten fed up with the grass-type. Claiming that she would never do anything so blatantly stupid— and that she had a scale of stupidity she was abiding by— Chatot’s words, not hers.

This gets a chuckle from the grass-type… something that almost immediately warms the Eevee’s heart. She hesitates a littles before scooting closer, fully laying her body beside Grovyle as he continued to recollect stories of their past together… listening to the older Pokémon’s droning… until she fell asleep.

…

Now Grovyle is faced with another problem. And it was in the form of his little sister sleeping soundly right next to him.

…

He knows what’ll happen to them when he puts in the Time Gears.

He knows he’ll never get another chance like this again.

…

He lays his body near Ribbon’s, curling around her tiny body protectively. Before getting what was probably the most sleep he did since he arrived in the Present…

…What he fails to notice in his comatose-like sleep… is how Ribbons scooted closer into him, cleaning his face/leaf with her tounge… before curling into Grovyle— putting her head under the grass-type’s. Purring contently.

———

…When they’re traversing through the Hidden land, the same arguments when they did in the future about Grovyle’s recklessness. Although this time around— Ribbons had been calling the kettle black in this regard. The Grass and Normal type Pokémon going back and forth… before falling silent.

And when the ghost-type returned a second time to ambush the three Pokémon, Ribbons and Aimilios opted to fight the Sableye. Meanwhile, Grovyle took on Dusknoir—Which proved to be nearly impossible. It was only when the Sableye were dealt with and the two joined Grovyle on his assault on the wraith, that Dusknoir’s attacks begun to.. slow?

They fought and fought, Ribbons having managed to get in a really nasty Bite that made the cloaked revenant roar out in pain; unintentionally slamming her against a pillar. Hard. Grovyle yells her name, trying to run to Ribbons— before being intercepted by a large fist being mercilessly being swung his way. Not offering the same hesitation he did with the young Eevee and Riolu. If there was anyone Dusknoir was willing to kill— it was him.

It was when Dusknoir gripped the Riolu to the point of him whining out in pain— that the Grass-type’s adrenaline and anger made his body move harshly to knock down the ghost-type with the slice of a Leaf Blade. Getting protectively infront of his sister …and the Riolu Grovyle had begun to start considering as his little brother. His eyes turning into cat-like slits, glaring at the revenant.

———

Dusknoir hit the Eevee a second time when the two were distracted— Ribbon’s having cried out in pain, wincing from the hit she received from the large ghost-type— closing her eyes as she anticipated for him to finished her off—

Before Grovyle shielded her— and began shoving him into the Dimensional hole.

Grovyle could only smile to himself despite how much he was struggling to keep the giant wraith at bay— Dusknoir nearly breaking out of the wood gecko’s hold.

So many times. He failed to protect Ribbons. So many times. And now…

“Though the parting hurts… the rest is in your hands!”

He could finally make it up to her.

——————

~The Future~

———————

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Ribbons nearly broke Grovyle’s ribcage when he returned to the present, berating and screaming at him so angrily for leaving her the way he did… while hugging him in tears as she bawled her eyes out— Grovyle reciprocating the hug with as much strength as the Eevee.

…So when she saw Dusknoir and ran, he was the one to chase after her. Celebi having stayed back with Aimilios to explain the situation to the equally confused and afraid Riolu.

-The Eevee’d hidden under another hollowed tree stump, her entire body frizzing up at the sound of the woodland gecko calling out to her. Ribbon’s brows furrowed in anger despite her fear, yelling at him for bringing the ghost-type back. Grovyle tries to fit himself inside the tiny hollowed area… before curling around Ribbons— gently explaining the situation with the cloaked ghost. He apologizes for bringing Dusknoir without warning. Knowing that he should’ve better prepared those two.

-It’s because of Ribbons refusal to be anywhere near/talk to Dusknoir, that the Eevee has the opportune time to reconnect with Grovyle. Spending the first three years to catch up, talk, do jobs, drink at Spinda’s. Becoming even comfortable enough to start bantering with eachother, and squabbling like siblings. (and yes they partake in Cain Instinct ™️ through harmless paw baps/“oh no gravity’s increasing on me” “YOURE CRUSHING ME YOU ROTTEN BROTHER.”) Those two being practically attached to the hip as they constantly stayed side by side. Even having slept in the same hay-bed together the first year. (Separation anxiety is doing wonders.)

Grovyle is also Ribbon’s go-to hiding spot from Dusknoir whenever he’s near— not-so-discreetly hiding behind the woodland gecko anytime he’d gotten close. Something that he was more than willing to do, being a barrier being the giant specter and minuscule Eevee.

Grovyle is also the one constantly reminding Ribbons that if she feels uncomfortable/unsafe around Dusknoir, that she can come to him at any moment. And he’d talk to him. (Or smack him upside the head with a leaf blade, earning the gecko a laugh from his little sister.)

But… He knows she’s lying through her fangs when she says she’s fine with him being around. (Chalk that up to Older brother instincts) Which is why Grovyle goes to Dusknoir anyways to tell him to minimize his presence around her as much had possible in the beginning— something the wraith was already ahead/aware of.

-The Eevee also tries to repay the favor by reminding Grovyle that he actually isn’t the POS, horrible brother he thinks himself to be with the amount of times he failed to save her. Redirecting his attention to her paw scar and nuzzling the self-deprecating grass-type. Grovyle doesn’t believe himself to be the right guardian for her… but she trusts him anyways.

-And you KNOW by the time she evolves— he’s fighting back a copious amount of tears. (Dusknoir might be getting choked up over Ribbons and Aimilios’s evolutions— but Grovyle looks like he’s seconds away from actually tearing up. Just so happy to be alive to witness his baby sister having the chance to actually grow up.)

—————

Anyways!! that’s what I have for now!!!! Just mainly putting this here to give more insight to their dynamic :) (as well as have a little library of drawing ideas for Grovyle/Ribbons when the mood strikes.)