#when i say that some things are for grown ups and they're not old enough yet

[marmolita]

I've been playing ffxv (my first time -- my previous fandom experience was based on watching it on youtube 😅) and today I got to the bust-a-base part with Ravus and everything. I feel like playing it myself is just reminding me of everything I love about it but even more so? Like goddamn Noct those single strike warp-kills were sexy af, and gosh I love his voice (props to the voice actor for striking a great balance of soft and confident), and he's so ridiculous sometimes?? I just handed over some green beans and everyone is giving him shit about refusing to eat vegetables and I love it.

On the other hand, playing directly is also reminding me of the things I'd rather pretend aren't things in fanfic land though, like how Ignis and Prompto are really weird-looking. I swear every photo of them I get they just look very strange, which is such a stark contrast to how good Noctis always looks. Gladio looks pretty good too so I'm not sure why Ignis and Prompto look so strange.

Anyway I gotta figure out how to possibly extract the photos I took into something shareable so I can post some here bc I got a really great one of Noct today. I've been playing on my steam deck but I think I can open it up on my laptop via steam too?

Side story, the other day after dinner my kid was playing and I walked in because it was almost my turn, and she was like, "Mommy, do you like Noctis?" and I had to restrain myself from asking, "Do you mean like or do you mean LIKE like?" 😂 But I just said yes and then asked her if she liked him, which she didn't answer. Still not sure if that question was her trying to figure out if she liked Noctis or Squall better, or her telling me she wasn't sure if she likes Noct, or possibly that some video game characters here might be becoming her first real crushes, but I guess I may never know and tbh it's her own business. (This morning she was mad at her sister because "she was teasing me and saying I was in love with Captain Jack Sparrow" so I think we're solidly in the puberty era now 🥲)

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[cactus-cuddler]

Thanks for the request! I had some issues with tumblr and had to delete the previous answer and now I don't have the question anymore. I hope whoever asked me can still find it and like it <3

𝑨𝒏 𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒔

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Pairing: dom!Natasha Romanoff x Sub!female!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Word count: 1,5 k

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Plot: Natasha can't resist your ass in a pair of jeans

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Warning: contains explicit sex scenes

Shopping with Natasha is like shopping with a child. She just doesn't enjoy it and doesn't even make the effort to pretend. The only part she likes is when you're in the dressing room, showing her the clothes you want to buy and asking for her opinion on whether they look good on you. But even then, it's not very helpful, because in her eyes, everything looks good on you-from garbage bags to actual trash cans.

Today, you need to buy a pair of jeans. You've noticed that the ones you have don't fit quite the way you'd like-some are too loose, and others too tight. "Am I gaining weight?" you ask Natasha, and her alarm bells immediately go on. It's a dangerous question, and she knows she could find herself single at any moment, so she carefully measures her words. "Absolutely not, you're just growing, little one," she replies, placing her hands on your hips and kissing your lips so you won't respond. She even convinces you to measure yourself, and you find you've grown almost an inch (with your shoes on).

You select a few pairs of jeans that might suit your curves best and choose three to try on. You head to the dressing rooms and ask your girlfriend to wait outside while you show her each pair one by one. The first pair fits well, enhancing your legs and hugging your hips perfectly. The second pair is similar but looser and doesn't show off the shape of your legs. The last pair makes your ass look amazing, and Natasha can't help but be captivated by it. "I understand why your jeans don't fit at home!" she exclaims enthusiastically, staring shamelessly at your divine ass. You look straight into her eyes as her cheeks flush with the color of her hair. Seeing your ass so perfectly wrapped in this jeans has her blood rushing to her head-and between her legs, she feels a warm sensation. "Your ass has grown!" she exclaims, and you giggle. You know it's not true; it's just the effect of the jeans. You change back into your clothes and decide to buy all three pairs. You pay with your card and, satisfied with your purchases, head home in Natasha's car.

Natasha treats you like a princess, even though she knows you don't need that kind of attention. But you enjoy it. She opens the car door for you, lets you use the mirrors freely, and allows you to keep your essentials like hair ties, makeup, jewelry, and creams in her car. To say that you love her is an understatement.

You've invited some old friends over for dinner this evening, which is why you were motivated to buy new jeans, and for this occasion, you plan to show off your new purchase. You put on the jeans Natasha liked so much and pair them with a t-shirt that's short enough to leave your ass in plain sight. "Y/N, we forgot to buy drinks!" Natasha exclaims as she sets the table (she sets the table while you cook) while you're in the middle of choosing the right earrings. You're bent over, not sitting on the chair, so you can look at yourself in the mirror while putting them on. Natasha is once again entranced by the sight. "We still have an hour, and they're always late. Let's go buy them now," you reply calmly as you put on the last earring.

Natasha grabs her car keys, you you bag and then you head to the nearest supermarket, taking the opportunity to pick up a few other things you're missing at home.

When you arrive at the supermarket, your fantastic ass doesn't go unnoticed. Natasha, feeling jealous, decides to walk behind you, while you push the shopping cart so she can be the only one enjoying the view. In her head, she's already imagining several scenarios where she'll rip those jeans off to get her hands on your amazing butt.

Making sure no one is watching, she reaches out and squeezes your buttocks, making you jump in surprise. You smile at her and playfully slap her hand before returning to your shopping.

Once you're back home, you barely have time to put away the groceries before Natasha scoops you up onto her shoulders and carries you into the bedroom. "That ass is illegal," she says, throwing you onto the bed and flipping you onto your belly before straddling you. "Nat, they'll be here in half an hour!" you exclaim, reminding her of dinner. "That's cute that you think you'll last that long," she teases, and you blush. A warmth spreads throughout your body as you feel the heat between your legs. "I've been holding back all day. Don't I deserve a treat?" she whispers in your ear. "You're right, you do deserve it," you reply.

Your body is on fire now and waiting when the night with your friends finishes would make the both of you explode in front of them.

Natasha slaps your ass and then starts massaging it with your jeans still covering it. She tries to take them off from behind but there is a zip and a button that won't allow it so she makes you turn on your back and with a brusque gesture she removes the button and the zip.

Because of the force used you were afraid she would tear your recently bought jeans. She puts you in doggy style to have your ass well exposed in front of her. She leaves a few little slaps on it and then she digs her fingers in.

“What a fantastic ass," Natasha says before putting her face in between and focusing her tongue on your ass. She penetrates your ass with her tongue and then inserts a finger inside which she pushes carefully, making sure to give you only and exclusively pleasure.

You arch your back from the pleasure she is giving you and in the meantime, unable to resist the calls of your pussy, you start to touch it making circular movements on your clit. You start moaning in pleasure asking Natasha to give you more as she licks and penetrates the entrance of your ass while your fingers focus on your hot little cunt. She stains your ass with her delicate bites and while her mouth is focused on that she reaches out a hand to touch your breast still covered by your shirt and bra.

She gently makes you lie down on your back and decides to take care of your pussy too, which is wet and just waiting for her tongue.

She positions herself between your legs and starts sucking your clit, looking straight into your eyes and forcing you to watch her suck it. Now, to your displeasure, she leaves your breasts aside for the short time she has available. She wants to make you come by focusing only on your lower abdomen, as she is good at doing.

Your hands move into her hair and you push her closer to your cunt. She starts to penetrate your pussy with two fingers and while she holds your clit between her lips, your sighs become ever louder and more desperate.

“Nat, I'm about to come,” you tell her, biting your lip to keep from screaming.

"Come for me baby," she replies, continuing to penetrate you and looking straight into your eyes to admire how beautiful you are while being overwhelmed by the pleasure she gives you.

Without making you repeat it, you come on her fingers while your body still trembles. Once you come, she grabs you by the throat and kisses you with wish and feeling your taste between her tongue make you even more excited and you would like to lick her pussy to feel her sweet taste and make her come with your tongue but she gets up leaving your mind fantasizing about her cunt.

Nat gets up and opens a drawer. That drawer you know all too well and pulls out a purple strap-on but before she can make another move the doorbell rings. The red-head bites the inside of her lip as you grab a pair of slacks and your jeans.

You order Natasha to go and open the door only after changing her T-shirt which is wet with your pleasure and try to make yourself presentable.

"As soon as they leave, I'm going to fuck you until you forget your name," Natasha announces as she closes the door behind her. Oh, you know she's going to do it, you didn't need her to tell you.

You decide to change your jeans, you don't want to provoke her too much and you decide to put on the baggy ones and while you try to erase the expression of someone who has just been eaten out you hear your guests asking about you.

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPxDC Warlock Batfamily

They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.

It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.

Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.

"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."

"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."

"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."

Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.

"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.

"Warlock."

"Oh."

Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"

Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."

"Fucking Hell."

-

The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.

Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.

"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."

"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."

Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.

John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."

The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.

The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.

Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.

"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."

Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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[pollyanna-nana]

Louie isn’t evil.

Or: what Pikmin 4 tells us about his character.

BIG WARNING FOR PIKMIN 4 SPOILERS! (and the rest of the series)

———

I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way trying to be the end-all, be-all of character interpretations, but Pikmin 4 to me, at least, confirms the suspicions I’ve had since playing Pikmin 2 and 3 all those years ago that Louie ISN’T secretly evil, or possessed, or whatever else. He’s just… Louie. And I think that’s interesting in and of itself.

1. Olimar himself vouches for him, and clearly doesn’t think he’s a bad person.

Say what you will, but I’m inclined to think Olimar is a decent judge of character. Clearly he’s worked with Louie for enough time to see that while he’s not very good at his job, he’s not intentionally so— at least not in a malevolent way (will get more into this later). He also wants you to forgive him for Olimar’s sake, which can be read as self-sacrificing (as Olimar is known to be) but I also think hints at the soft spot he has for Louie.

It's also worth noting that he states during a end-of-day conversation that he told Louie that, since he's a new employee, he should do everything Olimar does... including throw castaways into the onion. Interesting that Louie took this so literally, but it does provide an explanation for why he kidnapped the Koppaites beyond "he's evil and crazy".

2. He really, REALLY loves his grandma.

Like, wow. He talks about her SO MUCH both in his Piklopedia entries and also elsewhere in the game. It's interesting. Worth noting is that he never mentions any other family members- unlike Olimar, who talks about his wife and each of his children independently. I've said this before, but the content of a lot of these entries implies to me that Louie was mainly raised by his grandma, likely since birth. And given some of her emails in Pikmin 2, assuming they're also canon to Pikmin 4's timeline... Well, Louie certainly had an interesting upbringing. But he clearly loves her all the same.

3. He has a mischievous streak and tends to do things on impulse.

This was already fairly obvious from the previous games, but I think it's worth noting that this game confirms that he's... would immature be the right word? In any regard, he doesn't seem to see himself as a "grown-up"- when in all likelihood he is. Personally, as a 22-year-old, I find that pretty relatable as I often think of myself as younger when in reality I am by all definitions an adult. This, along with his grandma still being around, makes it pretty much certain that Louie is a lot younger than Olimar and the president, likely in his early to mid twenties. Being a bit of a goofball isn't really out of the ordinary, all things considered.

THAT BEING SAID, he's clearly capable of practicing self-restraint when he wants to. What he says here about the red Pikmin is pretty significant, since we know he's willing to eat just about anything- but clearly he has some reservations about creatures that are friendly and helpful. Which leads to...

4. He loves dogs and fluffy things.

Same. But he doesn't even consider eating Moss, Oatchi or the Ancient Sirehound, showing that his creature-eating habits stop at things he recognizes as useful. He clearly also holds affection for things that are soft and fuzzy, and says as much.

5. He is so autism.

He plays with fidget toys. He loves certain textures and sounds. This guy is stimming all over PNF-404!!! I think this also lends some explanation for why his behavior is what it is- things like taking Olimar's suggestion to do as he does super literally even after crashing on an alien planet, his hyperfixation on cooking and tendency not to communicate and incorrectly interpret situations (thinking the Koppaites are kidnappers in 3, running away from you in 4). He could even be low or no empathy as well, explaining why it takes a hot minute to get him to understand why people are upset with him about something.

Interestingly this game also makes it clear that Louie wants to live on the planet, or at least thought he did while you were chasing him down, which makes a lot of sense when you consider that he doesn't really seem to fit in back on Hocotate. I, too, wish to run away to an alien world with all of the things that I like and no other people, so I get you, Louie.

6. He hates his boss and his job, and the golden pikpik carrot incident was likely premeditated.

This probably looks bad, but honestly? As a fellow work-hating anti-capitalist schmuck I get it. The president is for all intents and purposes a huge asshole, from sending Olimar straight back to the planet after selling his ship to not caring that Louie got left behind, just wanting to find the rest of the treasures. I doubt he is very kind to his employees, and doesn't seem very good at running the business. Definitely a funny character, but if he were my boss I would absolutely want to punt him into the sun.

From some other entries he clearly wants to sell certain things to accrue money, but it's for things like getting better kitchen tools and following his dream to have his own cooking show. Clearly being a freight driver isn't what Louie actually wants to do with his life, and he could not give less of a shit about what happens to the company. Very short-sighted on his part, but also again, yeah I get you Louie.

7. He... doesn't like the color red for some reason.

Honestly, I'm not even really sure what to make of this. Is it because it reminds him of the Hocotate ship? Or does he just not like the color? Would be very interesting considering that it's Olimar's signature color. Perhaps that's at least part of why he attacks you in Pikmin 2- though that's speculation for another day.

Also funny to me is his comments on the black-colored treasures. We know blue is his favorite color, but I guess he's also a bit of a goth at heart. Lol.

In conclusion.

I think Louie isn't written or intended to be evil, and Pikmin 4's portrayal of him was intentionally written to confirm this. He's just, as some have said, an agent of chaos, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just an autistic 20-something working a shitty job he doesn't care about, who loves his grandma and has a mischievous streak and a hyperfixation on food. At least from what I can interpret, ymmv!

[tealvenetianmask]

Hell's royalty has a culture that enables Stella's abusive behavior.

Point 1: Keeping up appearances is valued above all else. And I specifically mean the appearance of things being the way they're supposed to be. Conformity basically.

Conformity in this culture seems to include a kind of stoic dignity ("you know excitement is unbecoming of a goetia"), an air of superiority ("don't bow to that one- he bows to us!"), and, of course, some good old fashioned toxic masculinity ("cease this bitch crying").

Individuals at the very top are not immune. Even though he gets past it, Asmodeus seems to spend a lot of time and effort on keeping his relationship with Fizz quiet in order to keep up the appearance of fulfilling his "lust" role.

Point 2: The members of the aristocracy who don't conform are seen as the problem, not the members who are being cruel.

Speaking of Ozzie, there's a chance he'll face real consequences for getting out of line . . . Mammon seems pretty confident about getting revenge. Also, if Ozzie had decided that his reputation was important enough to avoid stepping in to help his partner, well . . . I'm just saying. Cultures of conformity create bystanders who stand by and let abuse happen. So it's good that this guy has the courage (and a good heap of privilege and power) to enable him to step out. Yes, I realize that the crowd at Mammon's celebrated Ozzie and Fizz, but the crowd was distinctly NOT aristocratic.

Now look at Stella's party- this woman is not subtle about being cruel to her husband.

She calls the party a "Not Divorced" party. She openly talks negatively about Stolas in a blatant attempt to humiliate him. She's not trying to hide that she hates the man.

Because he's . . . an oddball. Gentle, not as polished as others in his social sphere, awkward and mostly friendless, probably autistic. And importantly, I think, not traditionally masculine.

So Stella has no need to hide that she treats him poorly. She's proud of it. And her social circle seems to support her in it, or at least, they don't push back. Because based on the aristocracy's unspoken (or if we look at Paimon, very much spoken) value system, Stolas's failure to fulfill all of his expected roles gracefully is worse than Stella's cruelty.

Point 3: Stolas's parenting, while much better than his own father's, still reflects this value system in some ways, and that's . . . complicated.

In some ways, Octavia is doing great. She has her own interests (music! gothy fashion!) that don't seem to be based on any role prescribed to her by others. She has a genuine bond with her dad that's based on care and not on molding her into some ideal princess.

But Stolas still puts on an facade in front of Via. We know that he pretended things were fine when they distinctly weren't for most of her childhood. We could argue endlessly about whether Stolas was right (as Georgia Dow explained in her video) or wrong to stop himself from explaining the situation with Stella to Via in Loo Loo Land, but honestly, the man could let his nearly grown up daughter know that abuse was happening without all out trauma dumping. It would enable her to make more informed decisions, and I think she would want to be able to do that.

Instead, Stolas keeps it to himself. Because he feels like Via SHOULD have this picture perfect childhood. Look at the pictures that are up in his palace. Look at his attempt to gloss over the fighting in the household by taking Via to an idealized childhood destination.

A part of him still thinks that good parenting is keeping up appearances, and that the ugly things are best kept hidden. Look at how hard he still tries to avoid crying in front of people. The values he was taught as a child are part of him.

And while it's not his fault (it's Stella's fault, obviously- these are HER actions), his inability to be open allows Stella and Andrealphus to scheme and (we'll see . . .) probably manipulate Via because of her lack of knowledge.

We're meant to see the moments where Stolas breaks expectations and behaves raw and even a little unhinged as triumphant. Sleeping with Blitz. That is the sound of a fucking divorce. Actually going through with the fucking divorce. Insisting on it. Appearances be damned.

And yeah, more of that please. Because if the people around Stella stop caring about aristocratic social trappings, all she'll have going for her is her shitty personality.

Thanks @akirathedramaqueen for inspiring this post with a conversation.

[yandere-wishes]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕔 𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Synopsis: You finally realize that you and Miguel are stuck inside a comic book romance. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, angst, the reader has Stockholm syndrome but can we really blame her? 

There's something about a sleepless night that's lethal. A loaded gun aimed point blank at your head and your heart and your eyes that are too weary to recall the difference between fact and fiction. Right and wrong.

Miguel should be home soon you think as you stare at the Daily Bugle's nightly broadcast. The headlines are the same as last week's villain attack and the week before that, and the week before that. 

'SPIDERMAN REPORTED DEAD AFTER TANGLE WITH NUEVA YORK'S NEWEST VILLAIN!'

 You think this is the 18th time he's died this month. A hologram dances in front of you, some withering reporter adamant in his claim that this time. This time for sure Spiderman is dead. A Harrowing claim, one you know to be false. Your lover isn't so easy to kill, you should know on account of how many times you had tried. Back when you'd painted Miguel O'Hara as the villain in your story, back when you were so obstinate to return to a wholly ignorant life of so-called freedom. 

Miguel can't die, you refuse to believe that a man like that is subject to such a mortal thing. 

You use to try to imagine a Miguel that had grown old. You couldn't back then and still can't today. Because heroes are eternal, or so you've come to believe.  They die a hundred deaths and reawaken younger than before. Heroes aren't immortal -that's the part that makes your heart skip a beat- yet death has never had the chance to lay claim to them. Miguel is fine you're sure of it. 

There's a noise, a disturbance in the wind, the sound of thousands of coiled webs being used to sling across the air.

A sign that Spiderman has arrived.

He's here.

You can't help but smile. 

"What's the old man saying this time?" 

You turn to see Miguel, land at the edge of the rooftop. Legs limb as he staggers towards you. With a defeated moan he sits down. Close enough for you to inspect the galaxy of bruises that dance across his stunning face. 

When did you fall in love with him, again? 

"You're supposed to be dead," you say, a bitter laugh following, the peculiar words.

"I think that's the 14th time the Bugals had a spread on me dying" He chuckles, dry and humorless. 

You bite your tongue to avoid correcting him. 

"Who was it this time? Venom or Flipside?" you ask, trying to guess which of the two had been able to give the Miguel O'Hara a run for his money. 

"Just some kid, from another dimension. Mocoso already screwed up the canon once, and he's damn well trying to do it again. He used Spider Bite to send himself home, so I didn't get the chance to..." He doesn't bother finishing that sentence. Doesn't have to, you've seen worlds collapse upon themselves because a tiny imperfection had distraught the canon. You know why he does this. You know why he must do this. No one is exempt from the canon. No matter how young and naive they may be. 

How peculiar the life of superhumans are. For all the guts and glory every hero's world is only bounded by thin silk strings. Perpetually on the verge of collapse should the chosen one refuse to follow destiny's orders. 

Heroes aren't pretty, they neither sparkle nor shine. Instead, they burn with a self-lit fire that grows out of control, burning until only ashes remain. Heroes are tragedies swung across every dimension. War-torn children with blood under their fingernails and chipped teeth from one too many close calls. Heroes aren't pretty, nor beautiful, nor divine. They're mangled creatures who come alive at night, staggering across half-lit streets doing what they believe is right. 

You've tried to commit this to memory. Tried to memorize it so you wouldn't make the same mistakes as every lovesick idiot who's fallen in love with a superhero. 

But sometimes it's so hard to remember, especially when Miguel has been your only companion for months now. The only person you have to talk to. The only person who is there in the early hours of the morning when even sleep abandons you. And he's always there again at night to tuck you in before he departs to fight whoever has broken the few simple rules that the canon calls for. You've almost come to appreciate his paranoia and insistence that you stayed locked inside the penthouse. Although he's grown a bit bolder as of late. Permitting you free range of the terrace and rooftop. A sign of good faith, he'd called. Whilst you'd presume that he's come to enjoy you waiting outside to greet him when he returns from the miseries of being a golden boy. 

"I try to save everyone, I try to make sure the universe is held upright. So why the hell does everyone always treat me like I'm the villain?" His voice is raising, fangs glowing in loose rays of starlight. His hands are crossed in annoyance. You rest your hand on his arm as you snuggle closer.

Heroes and villains, what's the difference? 

That's a question the two of you have been pondering for too long now. 

Even though you doubt  Miguel truly knows who he is. It's hard to fall into the orderly boxes of 'good' and 'bad' when the fate of every universe lies on your already brittle shoulders. 

He's a hero who acts like a villain. That's what you use to call him. Back when he'd first plucked you away from your ordinary mundane life.Deeming the world too dangerous for a defenseless little civilian such as yourself. He had promised to love you, to cherish you. Back when you'd been so resistant to play the role of the hero's lover. But seeing as how no matter what nightmares he went through as Spiderman, he had still kept those two promises. You had slowly started to grow fond of him

Time and time again Miguel has made you feel like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. Wings clipped and waiting for the inevitable. He's overbearing to the point where his sheer presence feels like a boulder placed on your chest. Or maybe his strings have finally found their way to your heart, coiling around the organ controlling its every beat and pulse. Yet somehow, somehow, you started to desire more and more of him.

You're in love with the hero who plays the villain. 

You're in love with the villain who bares a hero's mask. 

"You should be more careful when dealing with the other spiders. I hear they're not all as precautious as you." Your fingers trace the purpling marks on his cheek.  Sliding from one universe to another. 

You know Miguel isn't a tiny spider he's a bloodthirsty tarantula. Yet you still worry. Fear that one day he may fail to return home. 

"You shouldn't worry about me preciosa,"

"Someone has to, Miguel, you're not as indestructible as you may think."

"If I kiss you will you stop complaining?"

There's no room to answer, his lips rest on yours, forceful and sweet. Captivating, dominating, and as always overbearing. His fangs slowly sink into the back of your lips. That familiar iron taste invades your mouth once again. 

Sometimes Miguel feels like a hero, shouldering the universe's burdens, and fighting for what's right. After all, with great power comes great responsibility. This is what he wanted, he always wanted to be the hero.

But sometimes when the spider's lair is abandoned and he returns home to you, he can't help but feel like the villain. He's protecting you he knows that. Justifying it is easy when you watch dimensions wither away in violent glitching and endless screams, daily. Yet he wonders if his predecessors were ever like this. If the heroes are supposed to keep their lovers locked away. Alone yet safe. A fair trade in his mind. 

Miguel isn't quite human, half-everlasting and half-horror. 

A dangerous combination

Or at least a confusing one. 

The point is he's some sort of hero. But that also means he's some sort of villain. Even the old tales got things wrong, not every superhero is carved from porcelain and ivory. Not every villain is built from ash and rage.  

Sometimes heroes are carved from gravestone granite and glazed with poison. Sometimes their powers are self-inflicted curses that chew away at flesh and bone. sometimes the hero's halo is made of barbed wire digging into his scalp and embittering his thoughts. Sometimes heroes kill themselves before any villain gets the chance. Spitling their body apart a million times a day because destiny decided to play a cruel joke on them. Picking the weakest of all mankind to become its guardian. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, he lifts your hand to his mouth. 

His fangs sink into your finger puncturing bone as he gnaws the stress away. Blood leaks down his chin, spilling over the rooftop. He pulls your body closer. An anchor in a never-ending storm. 

You kiss his chin, looking into his eyes. Eyes that can never choose whether they wish to be human or monster. Your head instinctively finds his chest nestling into the cold metal of his suit. 

Oh, how you wish you could crack his rib cage open and crawl inside. 

Sometimes you think back to the original tales. The ones from your dimension, albeit it seems that -regardless of a few rare exceptions- the stories are consistent in every universe.  

The story always goes the same. Peter Parker falls in love with MJ or Gwen, you've come to learn that in the long run, it doesn't really matter. Spiderman saves them again and again. Until the whole world knows that Mj or Gwen are somehow connected to the masked hero. But never once does she leave his side. Rebellious blond or dotting redhead, Spiderman's lover stays regardless of how desperate and vicious the villains become when they start to learn that the story always ends in the hero's favor. 

It's every gal's dream to be the lover of a superhero. Awaiting their betrothed's triumphant return. Greeting them with amorous tidings and cherry red kisses. 

You think you're Gwen or Mary Jane. Or whoever else decided to fall in love with the troubled boy who has radioactivity coursing through his veins. The boy who was deemed a hero and thus was destroyed because of it.

Of course, there's the other part. The underlying message of the story, that parents all so conveniently 'forget' to tell their children. The disease of the otherwise perfect tale. They forget to tell you that Gwen Stacy fell to her death and Mary Jane is left abandoned, once the hero realizes that his mere presence is a curse. Stories may end in the hero's favor but much like the villain the lover is also doomed by the narrative. That's normal for any hero's lover. They always burn out to cater to the hero's ever-fuming torch of justice.

you feel broken, as you're sure they did too. An unspoken rule of being with a hero is that eventually, you start to lose your sense of self without them. It doesn't make sense when you put it like that but along the way bits and piece of you broke off. Pieces that you forgot to patch up. You've been mending by using segments of Miguel to make yourself feel whole again. It's a small miracle that you still hold a fading memory of whom you used to be before he made you his. A miracle that sweeps through the cracks of your soul. 

Heroes never need to fear death, just an eternity of pain. Losing everyone they love, over and over again. Maybe that's why Miguel's grip is so suffocatingly tight. He knows that eventually, not today and maybe not tomorrow but eventually he's going to lose you too. 

You're a comic book Juliet and he's Romeo with superpowers. Everyone knows that comic book heroes are doomed from the start. Neither you nor Miguel are exceptions. 

Maybe the two of you are doomed by the narrative.

But for tonight, as the moon slowly sinks behind the skyscrapers and the stars fade one by one. The two of you are safe in each other's arms. 

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine WIP Part 8

After 450 comments on the last section 🤣 its time for a new one. U guyz are gremlins!😆👏👏 @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly @sweetwolfcupcake @lilspookymeh

-------

"Come on, we've got to get you somewhere safe," says John Wick, trying to hustle you down the street.

"No," you protest, resisting. "We have to find John and Tex. They might need us."

You were skeptical about demons and the occult, God and the Devil and everything in between, at first. But after hanging out with Constantine, you'd seen a few things. Just enough that you had sense enough to be scared. You clutch the protection amulet around your neck that John had given you. You'd laughed at him at the time, but now you were glad to have it.

"They're both grown men, honey. I told Tex to leave you alone. This is what he gets."

Suddenly you're angry all over again. "Oh, you told him, huh?" You push John's chest--its like having a disagreement with a brick wall. "Do you have any fucking idea how much I've missed you? How it destroyed me to be thrown away like an old shirt you had no more use for?"

He is still as a mountain as he holds your wrists, preventing you from striking him, but not hurting you. Those dark eyes bore into you, through you. How does he not see you? "Y/n...I did what I thought was best for you."

"But you didn't fucking ask me! Or at least, you didn't listen! But you know what, it doesn't matter right now. John had to put some kind of a curse on Tex in self defense, because Tex is such an asshole, and now they're both in danger!"

"A what?"

You pause to think, and you're pretty sure you know where Constantine would go. There's an old church a few blocks over. Consecrated ground. It's where he's always told you to go if something came after you. It would be a good place to regroup.

"Come on," you say, pulling John in the opposite direction down the street.

For once, he actually listens, a shadow at your back ready to protect you, but he lets you lead the way.

--------------

The old building looks like it should probably be condemned. It's definitely seen better days, and hasn't seen a congregation in at least a decade. However, the ground is still holy, untouchable for the Unclean, and when you burst through the doors after John has already shot down three demons, you are so relieved to see Constantine and Tex sitting in some of the old pews. They definitely look like they've been through a battle, disheveled and beat up. You wonder how much was demons, and how much they did to each other.

"Thank God!" You run to them, and Tex's expression rises and falls as you go to Constantine, pressing your mouth to his in what you know is a needy kiss, assuring yourself as much as him.

He smirks down at you, well aware of the death- stares he's receiving from both sides. It's possible he makes a show of grabbing your ass, just to rub it in to your two Ghosts.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

You nod. Then Constantine rolls his eyes upward, over your head to John Wick. He is quietly forbidding in his black suit, standing watch by the door. "That your other Ghost?"

With a tired sigh you nod.

"Ghosts? The fuck is Harry Potter here talkin' about?"

The urge to punch Tex or kiss him is strong as ever.

"The two of you ghosted me, didn't you?"

"Baby girl, I missed you. That's why I came to get you." He shoots a telling glare over at John Wick, who only returns a disinterested look. Maybe the master assassin had been keeping tabs on you, but he hadn't shared everything with Tex, it seems.

Constantine looks between the two assassins, then you, with an infuriating smirk.

"What?" you demand, more than a little exasperated with everthing.

"Nothing. Just seems like you have a type, angel."

You can't even argue.

"Angel?" Tex snorts at your pet name. "Does he even know you?"

"Does he ever shut up?" asks Constantine, raising one dark eyebrow.

"No, never," you sigh.

There is a howl outside that lifts every hair on your body, an unearthly sound that makes your fingers grip in Constantine's suit jacket.

"What are we going to do?"

"Good question." Constantine tugs you over to a different pew, sitting down with his arm draped around your shoulders. His message is obvious, and it's new to you. Constantine rocks your world on the nightly, but he's never been possessive before. It really shouldn't, but it ignites a warmth in your chest that makes you feel ridiculously, stupidly, giddy inside.

"Seems like we're at an impasse, gentlemen."

Tex frowns. John seems less than impressed.

"Sorry, what's stopping us from killing you and taking her?"

You tense, watching the gun John holds loosely at his side. You know Wick can move like lightning, and your heart leaps into your throat. You are ready to fling yourself between them if you have to.

"John..."

"It's ok, sweetheart. He's not going to kill me."

"No offense, but I've heard that before from lots of people who are dead now."

Constantine snorts. "You can't kill me, because I've put a curse on your friend here, and you need me to lift it."

"So lift it."

"Can't. Got a friend who can though. You'll never see him without me."

You know Constantine must be talking about the famed and powerful bokor, Papa Midnite. A chill runs down your spine. You've met him precisely once. He was polite--and hot as fuck, if you're being honest--but you knew he was not to be trifled with.

"So let's go, then," says Tex, his patience lost about three dead demons ago.

"Hold up, Howdy Doody. We got to talk first."

"Bout?"

Constantine nods down at you. "Maybe I don't know all the details, but I've heard enough. And as much as I've enjoyed filling the hole you assholes left--I can't let you hurt her again. I'll let the demons feast on your souls first."

Almost on cue, that demonic howling sounds again outside, and a chorus of hellish hissing rises. It sounds like you are surrounded.

Tex leaps to his feet. "You smug little fucker--"

"Shut up, Tex." It's Wick who shushes his friend. "What do you propose?"

Finally, Constantine looks down at you. "It depends on what she wants."

Your mouth drops open at that. You have to decide that, now? As though he can read your thoughts, and sometimes you're convinced he can, Constantine pays you an infuriating smirk.

"I...don't want them dead. Or...devoured."

"That's a start, I guess. Do you ever want to be with them again?"

Your eyes go wide as saucers. The simple answer, of course, is yes. You love them. You miss them.

However, answers are never so simple, with your Boys involved. Like an idiot, you dare to look at them, taking in Tex's hang-dog puppy-eyed look, and John's quiet but intense yearning. Then, of course, there is the man beside you, who despite his aloofness and his prickly manner, has been nothing but good to you.

You've never said it out loud, but the truth is, you love him too.

"I don't know."

"Yeah. I figured." He smirks at you, inexplicably smug, and you kind of want to smack him too.

Which always leads to interesting things, with John Constantine, your stupid lady parts sing out. Jesus Christ on a cracker, what a fucking mess.

"You got a point, Gandalf?" demands Tex, paying a nervous look to one of the cracked stained glass windows. Ominous dark shapes are flying past outside. This is not good.

"I want you assholes to accept a Spell of Submission to her."

"The fuck does that mean?" demands Tex with a thunderous frown. John remains neutral as he listens.

"It means, if you ever try to make her do something she really doesn't want to do, again, she can say the magic words to fuck up your world. Pardner."

"No fuckin' way," Tex scoffs.

At the same time, John answers, "I'll do it."

Your eyes meet across the aisle of the church. That he would take such a leap of faith-- for you-- drops the floor out from under you.

Tex, of course, interrupts your moment of soul- searching eye contact with John.

"Wait, so we could be havin' an argument and she can drop me dead with the evil eye or somethin'?"

Constantine snorts. "It would probably serve you right, Hee Haw, but no. Cause you extreme pain? Yes. But it comes at a price. All magic does. I know she wouldn't use it lightly."

It would potentially even the playing field quite a bit between you three. The balance of power amongst you had never been fair.

"What's a matter, Tex? You don't trust me?"

"Only as far a I could throw you, darlin'." But his hawk-like look softens for you after a moment, and then surprisingly he grins. "Got me over a barrel now, don't you?"

You shift a little in your seat, so that you're flush against Constantine. The solid line of his lithe warmth beside you is anchoring. You glance up at him, finding he looks arrogantly amused-- and surprisingly, a little sad. If you didn't know him so well you would have missed it, like ripples in a pool.

You turn back to Tex, an uneasy excitement thrumming in your chest.

"If the curse fits?"

The cowboy sighs, frowning at the hellspawn waiting to rend his flesh and eat his soul outside. "Alright, fine. Guess you might as well take it all." He can't look at you while he says it, but you sense his surrender-- or at least, his resignation. It's not exactly a victory, but it's something, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

"Alright, wizard boy. Hoodoo me up."

Constantine snorts, leaping up from the bench. "First we've got to get out of here. You're going to want to cover your eyes." He starts muttering an encantation and walking in a circle, sprinkling a powder on the ground from his pocket. "When this goes off we'll have ten minutes. Either of you assholes have a car nearby?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Hope you like to drive fast."

His chanting gets louder, and you see he's produced a lighter. He never uses it for cigarettes anymore, but portable fire to a magician has its uses. You can tell he's reaching the crescendo of his spell, and you scrunch your eyes closed. Even through your eyelids you see the flash, and the boom of a magical fireball that should have burned you all to dust.

However, only the things outside incinerate, their agonized cries echoing through the cavernous stone building.

"Let's move."

--------

Hope I set this up for Midnite's club and whatever shenanigans u guys want to get up to 😆 Enjoy! @sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

[romanticintheory]

on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).

Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere

what it's like dating john price as a civilian.

john price x gn!reader

part 1

more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad

a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3

-

the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.

hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"

he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.

the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.

when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"

"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.

the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.

he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.

"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"

"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.

"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."

"really? what's its name?"

when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.

"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.

he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.

"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."

when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"

john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."

he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.

"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.

"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.

"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"

your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."

"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.

"you're too kind."

"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."

it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.

"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."

"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."

"well, we both have that in common, i guess."

"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.

"still you!" you insist.

"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"

oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.

"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.

sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"

he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"

"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.

"i'll see you then, love."

he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.

[ashen-char]

brace yourself

ship: amber freeman (scream) x fem reader

warnings: some jokes about blood/murder since its amber yknow, not much tho

summary: after getting braces, you feel insecure about it. your girlfriend amber reassures you about it

word count: 1100+

notes: requested here. thank you <3 i dont know too much abt braces but i hope you like it regardless

Awkward would be the first word that jumps into your head about how you're feeling right now. Your mouth feels weird, your lips and cheeks feeling crowded like there's suddenly not enough space in your mouth. You can't help running your tongue over the brackets and wires as your orthodontist speaks to you. He's telling you about how to take care of them, what foods not to eat, things to avoid. You're not really paying attention. Instead, you nod along to pretend you're listening when internally all you're thinking about is whether Amber would totally hate it.

When you had told her about the possibility of you getting braces, you couldn't really read your girlfriend's reaction. Amber was a big part of why you had grown to accept your old smile. She had made you confident in something you used to hate when you were younger, always telling you how much she liked it, always trying to make you smile so she could see it.

Your orthodontist hands you a pamphlet that sums up all the care he was describing, and after thanking him you stuff it into your pocket. That's when your phone buzzes with a text from Amber.

Hey, babe! Can't wait to see u. How was it?

You take a deep breath and type back quickly. Walking out of the clinic, you get into your car. You two had planned a date for after your appointment so that Amber could treat you while your gums and stuff were still all achey. It's cute how much she wanted to take care of you.

ah it went alright. give me a few? omw to pick you up

You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror. You flash a smile to inspect how the braces look, if it's really as different as it feels. The braces are clear as day in the bright pink you chose, like they're mocking you. You had picked a colour you liked in hopes that it'd cheer you up but maybe that was a bad idea.

Sitting on your driver's seat, you think about Amber's perfect smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners when she laughs. What if she notices the braces first thing? What if she thinks they’re ugly? Or what if she'll be disappointed that they're just... different?

Your thoughts are interrupted when Amber texts back. There's no time to worry about what she'll think - she'll see you in a few minutes whether you like it or not.

Getting changed. See ya mwah

Sighing, you buckle your seatbelt and turn the ignition key. There's no stalling when Amber's waiting for you.

By the time you pull up in the driveway of her house, Amber is already waiting at her front door. She lights up upon seeing you, walking out to your car before you even had the chance to go to her front door.

"Hey, babe," she says, sliding into the passenger seat. "How was the orthodontist?"

"Hey. And fine, I guess," you answer, barely even turning to look at her. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should go in for a kiss like you usually do. You've heard these stories about braces getting stuck together when people made out, or the brackets cutting lips. You don't wanna hurt Amber.

You hadn't even realised that you were pursing your lips shut until Amber calls you out on it. "What's with the frown, huh? Hiding them from me?" she asks teasingly.

"I-" you go to argue back, but inside you know she's right. It might have been unconscious but you didn't want her to see yet. Didn't want the opportunity to be judged.

"It can't be that bad," Amber says. "Come on. You haven't even kissed me hello yet."

You bite your lip. "I'm just nervous to kiss you with these," you mumble, still trying your best not to talk too much. "I dunno how to. It could scratch you or something."

Amber rolls her eyes. As if something that small would prevent her from kissing her girlfriend. She goes to playfully nudge your arm. "I'm tougher than that. Kissing you 'til I bleed sounds kinda fun, actually. Kinky."

You can't help but to smile at her playful tone. Amber made you forget that you were trying to keep your lips from parting too much. "I should've known you'd say that."

When you speak, Amber goes to hold your face in your hand, holding your jaw to keep your mouth open. "Ah, don't close 'em again. I wanna see!"

And well, you're a simp so you tend to do whatever your girlfriend wants. You feel your cheeks heat up as she studies you, your mouth pulled to a smile to show them to Amber.

"Cute. Pink," she notes. Amber tilts your jaw, looking at you from every angle. "You're always cute."

You avoid her gaze. When she has your face tilted back to look directly at her, relief flows over you when you can see she's being genuine. She likes it. She still thinks you're cute. "Shut up," you say, but you're smiling now.

"Is that all you were worried about, babe? Can I get a kiss from my girlfriend now?"

It's not like your nerves can go away with a few words. As much as she says it's OK now, you don't wanna ruin kissing her. You don't wanna scratch up those soft pillowy lips you love kissing so much. But still, Amber always gets what she wants. And if she thinks a little bit of blood would be hot, well so be it.

"Alright," you breathe out, weak to how she's cupping your face. "If you do it softly. Don't scratch yourself."

"Don't tell me what to do," is her jokey reply. Still, Amber closes the distance, pressing a soft and tentative (on your end, at least) kiss to your lips. You’re hyper-aware of the braces, but her kiss is gentle, careful, and all your fears of metal mishaps melt away. When she pulls back, she’s smiling, her eyes sparkling. “See? Not so bad, right?”

You laugh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Not bad at all.”

"Were you seriously nervous?" Amber laughs. She swats your arm, thinking you're ridiculous. "As if you could be anything but cute to me. Why would I care about some braces?"

"I dunno... You think the others will say anything?" you ask, of Amber's friends.

"They're not gonna laugh. And if they do, I'll knife em' in their sleep for ya. You know me, babe. I wouldn't let anyone make fun of my girl." Amber smirked, her trademark dark humour helping lighten the mood. She squeezes your thigh in a show of quick reassurance before going to do her seatbelt. "Now hurry up and take me out, I'm fucking starving."

[silent-stories]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since Eddie sat next to you on the picnic bench outside his trailer you've become friends and you've grown closer and closer. He drives you to school, sneaks through your window almost every night and you hang out together, but when he realizes you'd be better off without Eddie 'the freak' Munson, he has to push you away and break your heart in the process. Will he realize his mistake is hurting both of you and fix things between you before it's too late?

Warnings: fluff, angst, parents fighting, drinking, language

Eddie watched you through his bedroom window as you stepped out of your trailer slamming the door behind you and sat on a picnic bench.

You ran a hand through your hair trying to keep it in place despite the wind that had picked up that afternoon and you raised a arm to protect yourself from the sun's rays hitting your face.

Eddie had never spoken to you before. He saw you every time you picked Henderson up after a D&D campaign (even though he complained that he was old enough to go home alone) and his gaze found himself a few too many times looking for you in the school cafeteria and in the hallways, but he never spoke to you.

It had become a habit to think that most of the students who were not within his social circle wanted nothing to do with him and he knew that you hanged out with Steve Harrington and his friends, so he assumed it was best to keep his distance even though Dustin said you were his friend and a good person first of all.

There were rumors that you were dating Harrington and Eddie sometimes thought that was really true, he was popular and rich and you were pretty and your smile could light up a whole room. Not that he ever paid any attention to your smile to know that.

He thought maybe it was kinda creepy but he couldn't stop looking at you when he noticed your hands playing nervously with each other as you kept your gaze downcast and fixed. Was everything okay?

Eddie turned down the volume of the metal music that was coming from the stereo on the desk, and that was probably also heard on the opposite side of Hawkings, in order to think.

If he came out to ask if you were okay would it just scare you and make it worse? Would you run away from the freak?

When you brought a hand to your mouth to bite your nails and your leg bouced at lightning speed he knew something was definitely wrong.

The idea that you were sitting waiting for him to come out to ask him to buy drugs crossed his mind, many of his customers had that nervous behavior before a deal.

He had to admit that if the first time you spoke to him it was to buy marijuana he would be disappointed, to say the least.

He finally turned off the radio and glanced at the leather jacket and denim vest resting on his bed and, realizing that it was too hot for those, and came out of the trailer with only an old black sabbath t-shirt and some overall trousers that he used to sleep in.

"Hey." Eddie announced his presence when there were only a few steps between you two.

Your head shot up and your gaze met a pair of kind brown eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He raised the palms of his hands as if to show you that he meant you no harm.

"It's okay. You didn't." You moved on the bench, shifting to the right side.

Initially Eddie thought you were trying to increase the distance between you and him but then he realized you were making room for him to sit.

You wanted him to sit next to you.

He waited a moment, giving you time to reconsider, then took a seat next to you and your shoulders brushed as he did so.

"I…just wanted to ask if everything was okay. I saw you alone and it seemed like something was wrong but… you know what? It's stupid, you probably just wanted to be alone and I'm…" Eddie rambled.

Great, he thought, he was already embarrassing himself. It had to be a record.

"They're fighting." You interrupted him, pointing with your index finger to the trailer where you lived.

Only at that moment Eddie heard screams coming from inside. The voices belonged to a male and a female: your parents.

"I'm sorry." That was all he could say. But he was sincere, he knew what it felt like, he'd been there too.

"And I'm glad you're here now." One corner of your lips quirked up and Eddie swore he could have died right then.

“Actually, I came here because I heard music coming from your trailer. Usually it always manages to drown out their screams but this time they were right in front of my bedroom door so I went out. When I heard yours I thought getting closer would help."

You didn't even know why you were telling such private things to someone you barely knew but had a good feeling about him and decided to go with your gut.

"I discovered metal the same way." Eddie confessed, surprising even himself, he knew he didn't have to share such intimate parts of himself with people, parts that could be used against him one day. "When I was about eight and tired of hearing my parents fighting I turned on the radio hoping to find some kind of music loud enough to cover their voices . And I found metal so I did it."

Since that day Eddie had used metal to cover even the thoughts in his head but he decided to omit it.

You chuckled at the last part. "I'm sure metal could cover even a zombie apocalypse."

"Oh, I'm sure it could. I think I'll use this idea in the next D&D campaign." Eddie laughed.

"Please let Dustin win. Last time he sulked the entire ride because he was "dead"."

"Let him win? In Dungeons and Dragons you don't let someone win, you fight to the death if necessary! And he was a brave fighter." Eddie said in a solemn tone making you burst out laughing.

"I'll let him know."

When silnce fell between you and Eddie, you realized that you no longer heard the voices of your parents. "Finally."

"You'll see, things will get better." It didn't mean that because they never did for him, they didn't for everyone. He just wanted to let you know that you weren't alone.

You nodded. "Thank you, Eddie."

In that moment he realized that neither of you introduced themself to the other but you both knew your names. That you knew his name.

"I did nothing." Eddie shrugged as he glanced at his watch. "Shit, I'm late for practice."

"Practice?" You asked curious.

"Yeah, I'm in band, Corroded Coffin." Eddie said jumping off the bench.

"Band? Okay, you'll tell me about it next time, now go."

Next time.

You wanted to talk to him again.

You wanted to see him again.

"Alright, you sure you're okay?"

"I am, really. Thank you. Now go. I don't want you to be late because of me." You offered him a smile.

"Okay." He nodded "See you, then."

"See you."

Eddie looked at you one last time before disappearing behind the door of his house to get everything he needed, thinking that for the first time he wished he were still there talking to you instead of meeting the band.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

That morning when you woke up you found a note left by your mother saying that she had taken the car to go to a job interview and that meant no car to go to school.

You were walking to the nearest bus stop when you heard a voice calling your name.

"Hey, need a ride?"

A van pulled up next to you and Eddie leaned out the window.

"It's okay, I can walk."

Eddie wondered if you said it because you didn't want to disturb him or because you were afraid to lock yourself in the vehicle with him, fearing what he might do to you. But then he thought about the way your shoulders relaxed when he sat next to you on the picnic bench a few days before and the sound of your laugh when he said something stupid.

No, you weren't like that. For some weird reason you didn't seem to be afraid of him like like most of the school, and of Hawkings.

"Yeah, I think if you walk you'll get to school around eight... of tomorrow." He joked.

You laughed, he was probably right.

"C'mon." He said opening the passenger door.

"Thank you." You said sitting next to him as he restarted the engine.

"So... what do you play?" You asked after a few moments.

"What?"

"You said you're in a band. What do you play?" You asked again.

Eddie was amazed both that you remembered and that you wanted to know. The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

"What do you think I play?"

"Since I'm pretty sure you're James Hetfield's lost twin? I'll go with the guitar."

Eddie let out a laugh that he couldn't hold back this time. "Is that a compliment? I guess I'll take it as a compliment."

"Don't let it go to your head now."

When you got close enough to the school, Eddie parked the van and you both got out, walking side by side.

"I'm going to graduate this year, you know." Eddie said, talking both to himself and to you.

“If you start showing up to class a little more I'm sure you will. Because you know, we're in the same biology class but you haven't come once since the beginning of the year. The tracher thought there was a mistake with the names on the list."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I don't like biology."

You glared at him.

"But I'll come, sooner or later."

Your glare only intensified.

"Okay, okay I'll come to biology soon. Really soon. Happy?"

"Yes, thank you." You laughed.

"I swear I'm really trying this year, it's my year. I feel it." He added.

As you walked closer and closer to the school, a boy and girl, probably a senior, passed you by. The girl glanced your way and said something in the boy's ear and he laughed without trying to hide it.

"Hey I....I think I forgot something in the van, see you soon okay?" Eddie said as he stopped walking.

"Uhm…okay. Is something wrong?" You furrowed your eyebrows trying to read his expression.

"Don't worry. Everything's fine, just forgot my cigs. See you, sweetheart."

With these last words he walked away again, heading in the direction from where you had come.

You didn't say anything wrong, right?

Only when Eddie was so far away that you couldn't see the red in his flannel anymore you realized he'd called you "sweetheart".

You honestly really liked the way it sounded.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Eddie had suddenly left you because, after seeing the two students looking at you and then whisper and laugh to each other, he understood that it was not good for you to be seen around with him. He didn’t want people to find out you two were friends now.

Because that was what you were now, right? You had become friends.

He didn't want people to start spreading bad rumors about you too, you didn't deserve it and he didn't want it to be his fault.

As he was walking aimlessly a jock passed by him and although Eddie moved to increase the space between them, he still collided with Eddie on purpose.

"Hey, watch where you go, freak!" he yelled as he walked away.

That was exactly what Eddie was thinking about. He didn't want to condemn you and if they saw you hanging out with him people would start talking about you too and it was the last thing Eddie wanted to happen to one of the very few people who had been nice to him at school and in his whole life .

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It was night, but you couldn't sleep and you were reading a book lying on your bed by the light of your bedside lamp when you heard a noise.

Knock knock

You looked around, trying to locate the source of the noise.

Your eyes rested on the window.

Someone was knocking at the window of your room. You placed the book on the bedside table and opened the window, looking down as the cool night air hit your face to find Eddie Munson standing right under it.

"Hey, Y/N!" He said with a smile raising a hand to greet you as if it were a common thing to show up at that hour at someone's house.

"Jesus Christ, lower your voice. What are you doing here?"

"Is this how you greet your friends, Y/N?" He crossed his arms over his chest in mock offense.

"In my defense, it's almost 1a.m."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll be quick, I promise you."

"Eddie, what are you talking about-" You didn't have time to finish the sentence that he grabbed the edge of the window and climbed inside.

He sad on the border, resting his feet on the wooden floor of your room and you gave him a reproachful look. "You're really agile. Have you ever thought about joining the basketball team?"

"Oh, that hurt, Y/N. Watch your mouth or I could commit suicide right now." He replied by pointing to the void below him.

"If you jump down you'll break your arm at best, it's not worth it."

Eddie completely ignored your comment. "Who knew you had an Anthrax poster on your bedroom wall!" He commented as he looked around, realizing it was his first time in there, or in your house.

The trailers were all the same but Eddie liked how you decorated your bedroom.

His hair was tacky because of the way he got into your room and you resisted the urge to push it behind his ears.

"I really am a woman of a thousand secrets." You said "Come on, Eddie, why are you here? What do you want?"

What did he want? In fact, he wasn't sure either. He wanted to keep seeing you but he didn't want people to know about it. He wanted to keep hearing your voice and laugh without people starting bullying you or without making you loose your friends because of him. Honestly, he only came there because when he was with you he felt happy and safe and he wanted to see you even just for a few minutes but he had already thought of a credible and not entirely false excuse.

"Well, I was wondering if there was a chance you might have some notes on Shakespeare and if by any chance you'd be kind enough to let me copy it for a test I have in two days." He finished the sentence with a hopeful smile.

"Didn't you say you were going to start working hard and stuff?" You said looking for the english notebook in the backpack at the foot of the bed.

"I know and I'm sorry, I swear next-" He stopped when you pressed a few sheets of paper against his chest.

"Ohmygod, thank you!" He basically yelled, "You are the best, really."

"I said lower your voice, dumbass. If my mom finds out you're here, she'll kill both of us."

"She'll have to walk over my dead body to get to you."

"Well, I like you alive."

Eddie knew you were both joking and that the things you were saying didn't really matter but he loved that "I like you."

"I'll let you sleep now, okay? I'll give you everything back tomorrow, cross on my heart." He opened again the window and got ready to jump down.

You nodded. "It's okay."

"Goodnight sweetheart." he said before disappearing.

"Goodnight." you murmured, even if he was already gone.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It was a funny story, how you got in detention.

You were walking down the hallway on the way to your math class when you saw a cheerleader talking to Dustin.

Her name was Anne or Claire maybe, you didn't remember and you didn't care but Dustin didn't seem too happy to hear what she was saying.

"Do you know what happens to kids who are part of satanic cults? I tell tou, they are sacrificed." She laughed.

"I've told you a hundred times, I'm not in a cult and..."

"I'm sure that's what that freak made you believe."

"Okay, enough. Don't you have a class to go to?" You interrupted her.

"Oh, but we were just having a friendly conversation."

"It didn't look like one. Now we have to go." You said putting a hand on Dustin's back and starting to walk away.

"You know, there are rumors that you're dating him. The freak." The girl's voice made you stop.

You turned around.

"I am. And it's not your problem." And with that you left.

"Is that true? Are you going out with Eddie? He's always talking about you." Dustin asked.

"We're friends. I like him but we are not dating."

A toothy smile appeared on Dustin's face.

During cheerleading practice that afternoon, Claire-Anne-whoever feel and hit her face on the floor. The next day at school, everyone was talking about the bruise on her cheekbone was caused by you hitting her.

"I didn't do anything." You defend yourself in front of the principal.

“So how do you explain her bruise?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

"She fell cartwheeling because she sucks, it's not my fault."

"She told the whole school you hit her."

"Because she's a bitch too."

And with that you earned your detention. Maybe it wasn't such a funny story after all.

It was unfair, but at least you were with Eddie. With Eddie -if-I-smoke-in-the-bathroom-no-one-will-catch-me Munson.

"I know you didn't hit her." Eddie whispered trying not to be heard by the teacher who was supposed to monitor you during the hours of detention.

"And I know you were definitely smoking in the bathroom." You replied.

"You have so little faith in me?" He brought a hand to his chest.

"No, but I know you well enough to know you were smoking in the bathroom."

"Silence." The teacher stepped in.

After a few minutes you spoke again. "I can go to the bathroom?"

The teacher glared at you.

"If you want, I'll pee in the bin."

"Go."

You left the classroom and after a few seconds Eddie spoke again.

"Can I go get something from the snak machine outside?"

The teacher looked up from the book he was reading.

"No."

"I'm hungry. And if you don't let me go, I'll have to drink your blood."

She stared at him for a moment.

"Go. Quick."

Eddie left the class but before he could reach the dispenser, you caught up with him.

"The window in the bathroom is open." You whispered.

"I think it's because of the smell."

"No, I mean we can leave."

Eddie stared at you for a second, weighing your idea.

"Let's go." You said grabbing his arm and heading towards the girls' bathroom.

Eddie offered his hand as you put your feet up on the toilet and reached the window. His hand was warmer than you expected and his rings didn't feel cold against your skin.

When you jumped to the other side, Eddie did the same right after you.

"And here you go. Freedom." You said spreading your arms outwards.

"Who knew Y/N was a criminal." Eddie laughed as you walked away from the school.

"Oh, I'm not. I did it because my punishment was unfair. But yours..."

"Oh, shut up."

You laughed. "Okay."

Eddie drove you home in his van, which was becoming a habit by now.

"Thank you." You said when you arrived.

"She doesn't seem happy." Eddie said pointing to a figure just outside your trailer.

Your mom was waiting for you with her arms crossed and her face more than pissed.

"She never is. It's okay. Thanks for the ride, Ed." You said as he got out of the car.

"Where were you?" Your mom asked.

"With a friend."

She glanced at Eddie. "Is that your friend?"

"Any problem?"

"Yes, he's the problem. Have you seen him? He looks like a criminal."

You rolled your eyes. "You don't know him."

"I wish you didn't either."

"I say that agin, you don't know him. Stop judging, he's sweet."

You finally got in and Eddie could no longer hear your conversation.

Great, your mom didn't like it. It wasn't weird, Eddie was disliked by almost everyone.

He thought back to what you said: "he's sweet". It was the last word Eddie would describe himself with, but what if you said it? It would probably be the only thing he thought about for days.

Despite this though, the words "I wish you didn't either" and "He looks like a criminal" also stuck in his mind.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"You're lucky I wasn't sleeping." You commented as Eddie jumped into your room and you closed the window behind him.

Eddie was sneaking into your room at least once a week now, and you liked being used to it, although since your mom told you she didn't want you to see Eddie, you both had to be careful not to get caught.

Eddie still thought about your mom's words, maybe it was better if he started seeing you less, to cause you less problems, but then he always found himself in your room almost every night.

"You can say that you wait up for me every night, you know?" He laughed as he adjusted his leather jacket.

You rolled your eyes as you sat on the edge of the bed and Eddie stopped in front of you. "Is there a reason you're here or you just wanted to spend some time with your amazing friend right here?"

"Actually," he said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of the pocket of his black jeans, "I wanted to show you this."

He handed it to you and you took it in your hads.

"Did you find it in the trash by any chance?" You joked.

"Oh c'mon. Open it and see."

When you did, you saw a lot of calculations and writing in black pen and, at the top, inside a red circle there was a "B-".

A smile formed on your lips.

"Hey, that's amazing!" You exclaimed before remembering that your parents were asleep and shouldn't have known someone was with you.

Eddie covered your mouth with his hand. "Jesus Christ, I think not only your parents heard you but the whole neighborhood as well."

"Some manners, man." You laughed after you swiped his hand away from his face pretending you didn't like the feel of his skin against yours. "And don't worry, they are deep sleepers."

"So?" He asked moving his gaze between the sheet of paper and you, hopefully staring at you with his big brown eyes, waiting for an answer.

"I'm proud of you." You said and a huge grin appeared on Eddie's face.

You knew that he no longer had his parents and that probably not many people told him that they were proud of him and his achievements so that had become your job.

He sat on your bed talking for a while until you heard footsteps in the hallway and Eddie had to leave in a hurry.

"Be careful." You recommended as he sat on the edge of the window.

"Don't worry. I'm like a cat, I have nine lives." He said as he got ready to jump.

"A cat? I've always seen you more as a raccoon or maybe a bat."

He laughed shaking his head. "See you tomorrow, sweetheart."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Hey, freak!" Jason Carver walked up to Eddie in the hallway.

He huffed. "What do you want again?"

"I heard you have a girlfriend now." He teased him.

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows.

"I'm talking about Y/N."

"She's not-"

"You know, she used to be cool. But now? Hanging out with people like you? Not anymore. I hope she realizes her mistake soon, before she becomes like you."

That was what Eddie was afraid of. People could be really mean and he didn't want them to be mean to you just because you were his friend.

A voice called Jason from afar and, after one last look, he walked away.

Eddie found himself standing in the hallway whitout knowing what to do.

He knew it was better for you if you stopped seeing each other but he didn't want to lose you.

He had never found himself in a similar situation, usually people stayed away from him and now, when he finally found someone kind and nice, who treated him like a human being, like a friend, he felt the need to push her away.

The universe really hated him.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Wayne?" Eddie sat down on the couch next to him, "I need to ask you something and you have to be honest with me."

Wayne looked up at his nephew. "What did you do this time?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Nothing, I didn't do anything. I just have to ask your opinion about something."

Wayne remained silent, trying to figure out what was going on.

"If you knew someone...and you liked them, really liked them and if they were nice to you and you loved the sound of their laugh and the way your shoulders brushed when you walked next to each other, and just seeing them for five minutes in the morning would make your day a good day... but you knew that they would be better off without you, what would you do?"

"Okay, Eddie what's going on?"

"Nothing, really. Answer please?"

"I'd tell them. That they'd be better off without me. Or I'd make up an excuse. And then I'd walk away from their life. But only if I'm really sure they would be happier without me."

Eddie swallowed. He expected this answer but hearing it so directly was different.

Now he just had to follow his advice.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You knew that something was wrong as soon as Eddie jumped down the window and entered your room: the usual smile he had every time he saw you was completely absent.

"Hey, what's going on?" You asked sitting cross-legged on your bed as he sat on the edge next to you after taking off his shoes, as he used to.

"Nothing, I just wanted to see you." He murmured as he stared straight ahead, playing with his hands in his lap. His body was tense and stiff.

He'd come intending to tell you that you should stop seeing each other but as soon as he saw you he knew he couldn't even if he tried to vomit the words out of his mouth.

The desire to punch the wall in frustration was immense.

He had to do it, he had to do it to protect you, he had to do it for your mom, for the students at school and for the rest of Hawkings.

"Something is definitely wrong." You commented again.

He shook his head.

He didn't think it would be that hard, the words "I can't see you anymore" or "we should stop hanging out" weren't complicated, yet he felt like something was blocking his throat and stopping his voice from coming out.

"Eddie" You said placing a hand on his knee "I know you well enough to see when something is wrong and-"

"Can I hug you?"

His words surprised you.

"Eddie, what-"

"Please."

He sounded just like a scared little kid. What the hell happened?

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him against you, you immediately felt his arms enveloping you and his hands squeezing the fabric of your shirt as if he didn't you'd disappear, as if his life depended on it.

"I don't know what happened, Eddie. But I'm here." You whispered.

"I know." Not for long, he thought.

You left a kiss on his cheek while your hand caressed the side of his face.

"Do you want to stay?"

Eddie wanted to stay there with you for the rest of his life.

"I can't."

"C'mon, just one night. My parents won't find out. You'll leave in the morning."

Eddie decided that the next day he would say goodbye once and for all, so he might as well enjoy the last moments with you.

"Okay." He said.

You pulled down the blanket and lay down on the bed, he immediately after you.

He rested his head on the pillow and turned his head towards you, his face only inches from yours. "Are you sure you want me to stay?"

"I'm sure." You said first turn off the light - as Eddie took off the rings and placed them on your bedside table - and curl up next to Eddie, your back pressed against his chest.

You heard Eddie move slightly.

"Y/N, can I-?"

"You can." You muttered before feeling his arm wrap around your waist and push you even closer to him.

You placed your hand on his and he buried his face in your hair, breathing a sigh of relief as if being close to you would ease some kind of pain.

"Goodnight sweetheart." You heard him murmur as he left a kiss on your head.

"Goodnight Eddie."

You were already sleeping when a tear silently crossed Eddie's cheek and fell on your pillow.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

When you opened your eyes, the first light of day filtered through the window.

Eddie's arm was no longer around you. You turned to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, you could only see his back, his unkempt hair and the shape of his shoulder blades.

"Hey, good morning." You mumbled.

"I don't want to see you anymore."

"What?" You sat up on the bed, the sheet slipped off your body.

"I don't want to see you anymore. We should stop going out and stuff." He stood up.

"Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's just...it doesn't work." He gestured between the two of you, "this isn't working."

"Are you saying that because you slept here? I asked you to stay because you're my friend and I care about you and-"

"No, it's just…I have more important things to do than hang out with you, okay? That's all." He slipped on his shoes as if what he was saying mattered in the slightest.

You shifted the sheets and got out of bed, your feet tracing the cold floor, following Eddie. "That's all? Eddie, I thought we…that there was something."

"You thought wrong. Now I gotta go." He opened the window and sat on the edge.

"Eddie, wait." He jumped off.

You stared at the window curtains moving in the wind.

It was not possible. It wasn't possible that he was suddenly no longer interested in you. That he didn't care anymore.

You looked around, suddenly your room was too big and too empty.

You sat at the foot of the bed and brought your knees up to your chest, burying your head in your arms as you started getting a weird feeling in your stomach and chest.

You thought back to his firm tone and impassive face as he spoke.

It wasn't possible that he didn't care about you anymore.

Right?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

About a week later you were pretty sure Eddie didn't give a shit about you anymore.

You'd been waiting like a stupid every night in your room, staring at the window and hoping to see him come in. You had hoped that he would come and talk to you in the corridor or at least say hello.

Nothing.

He had also stopped showing up at biology class.

You kept thinking that there must be a reason that caused this sudden change in his behavior but you couldn't find one.

And, even though it had only been a week since you last spoke to him, you missed him.

You missed knowing that he was there if you needed, you missed talking to him, his jokes. You missed his chocolate brown eyes and his smile.

You missed the way he always opened his van door to let you in and you missed his "sweetheart".

"Okay, what happened?" Dustin asked as he got into your car.

"What?"

"Eddie. Have you two had a fight or something?" He asked.

Did you have a fight? You didn't even know it.

"I... no, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"Dustin, I don't know. Maybe I did something to piss him off. Last week he told me he didn't want to see me anymore and then he stopped talking to me or saying hello or… remembering I existed."

Dustin furrowed his eyebrows. "Weird, this is weird even Eddie. I'll talk to him about it."

"No." You hastened to say. "It was his decision. If that's what he wants, then that's fine."

"And do you think this is what he wants? In just one week he got a D in history and an F in math and the last campaign was a total disaster. A game of cards would have been more interesting and with Eddie, D&D is always amazing. That's not what he wants, he doesn't want to live a life that you're not in, believe me. There's got to be something going on."

You huffed. "I was getting used to having Eddie in my life. It was... it was nice."

Dustin smiled slightly at your words. "I'll try to figure out what's going on."

"Thank you, kid."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It had been days, Dustin still hadn't made Eddie talk and you felt more and more like a part of you was missing with him too.

The worst thing was that you couldn't hate him, even if you wanted to.

At 2am you were still staring at your bedroom window as if Eddie might appear at any moment.

"You're so stupid, Y/N." You talked to yourself as you finally made up your mind to get into bed and try to sleep.

In that moment, the phone on your nightstand rang.

Who the hell was calling at 2am?

You sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the phone.

"Y/N..."

"Eddie?"

"Hey." He only said two words, but you already knew something was wrong with his voice.

"Eddie, you're drunk." It wasn't a question, you just knew it.

He paused. "I'm sorry."

You didn’t know if he was sorry for the way he had been treating you for the past few weeks, if he was because he was calling you in the middle of the night or because he was drunk.

"What do you want, Eddie?" The question came out in a harsher tone that you wanted to.

"I know you hate me. You... you have every right to." he said, slurring.

"But?"

"But you're the only person who can give me a ride home right now. You're the only one I know who would."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because you are like that. You...you care about people. And I know the way I treated you…it was awful and you probably hate me but I…I need you now."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why don't you want to see me anymore?"

Silence.

"Eddie?"

"Please, can you pick me up?"

He didn't even answer your question. All he cared about was a ride home.

He was acting like an ass, you should have hung up after telling him to go fuck himself, that he couldn't ignore you all that time and then only called you when he needed you.

But a part of you also wanted to tell him that you missed him like air and that it scared the shit out of you.

"Y/N?" His voice brought you back to reality, he was still waiting for an answer.

"You know what? That... that was stupid. I shouldn't have called you. I'm sorry... about everything." he muttered. "You don't have to come, I...I'll wait here. Can you...can you just talk? I...I miss the sound of your voice."

If he really missed you he wouldn't treat you like that. Right?

"Are you still there?"

You huffed, you were about to do a very stupid thing.

"Eddie."

You heard his sigh of relief in hearing your voice saying his name again.

"Where are you?"

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You parked outside the bar and got out of your car.

Eddie was sitting on the ground, under the neon with the name of the place, near the phone booth he'd called you from.

He had remembered your number even though he was drunk, you thought as you walked in his direction.

Only a few voices were coming from the bar talking, Eddie hadn't gone to some kind of party and drank too much, he had gotten drunk sitting alone in the corner of a small bar away from the city centre.

"Get up."

Eddie raised his head. "You really came." He said surprised.

His breath stank of alcohol and his eyes were red.

"I said, get up." You grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

Eddie staggered dangerously and you placed a hand on his chest to keep him from falling.

"Jesus Christ." he muttered.

You let him wrap his arm around your shoulders and led him to your car, then sat next to him.

You leaned your head back on the seat with a weary sigh, staring at the club lights ahead of you.

When you felt like you were being watched, you turned your head towards Eddie to find him staring at you with his bloodshot eyes.

"What?" You asked.

"You are so pretty."

You shook your head. "And you are so drunk."

"Both true."

You sighed again. "What the fuck is going on Eddie? First you ignore me for weeks, then you call me in the middle of the night because you're drunk and tell me that..."

"I'm sorry. I did it for a reason I... I can't explain."

You let out a cold laugh. "Yes, of course. Of course."

You started the car.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Here we are." You said parking halfway between your trailer and his. "Is your uncle at home?"

Eddie shook his head and searched all the pockets of his leather jacket for the key, only to find it in his jeans.

You grabbed it and got out of the car followed by Eddie who, a little unsteady, took a few steps.

"I live here?" He asked.

"God, how much the fuck did you drink?" You asked yourself more than him as you placed a hand on his back and ushered him into the trailer after opening the door with the key.

When you reached his room, Eddie dropped onto the bed, sitting up with his back against the wooden headboard.

His room was messy, the walls were full of posters and the floor could hardly be seen from the amount of things scattered around. You kinda liked it.

"I feel like my head is about to explode." He said closing his eyes.

"You're probably bleeding internally and will die within hours."

He opened one eye.

"I'm joking." You huffed.

"Look, I'm leaving now and I guess you'll just pretend this never happened and-"

Eddie grabbed your hand. Not squeezing it, his touch was soft and you could have escaped if you wanted.

But you didn't.

"Don't go." he whispered.

"Eddie-"

"Please."

"I'm not going to stay here knowing you'll be ignoring me again tomorrow. Because that's what you're going to do, right?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

He stared at you without saying anything.

"Exactly."

Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pushed you onto the bed, making you sit next to him.

"Eddie-"

"Youre so pretty." He repeated.

"You already said that."

"Because it's true."

You sighed. "Eddie, I really want to know what's going on between us but you seem to want to keep it a secret."

His hand found yours again and he absentmindedly played with your fingers as you spoke. He must have drunk really a lot.

"I can't." he muttered.

"Why?"

He shook his head.

You suddenly grabbed his face with your hands.

"Tell me you hate me."

"What?"

"Tell me you hate me and that's why you don't want to see me anymore."

He shook his head again as you ran your thumb along his cheek.

"Then why? Why do you want to stay away from me? I thought you were mad at me, I thought you did something to piss you off but now...now I don't know anymore."

As usual, he didn't answer. His big dark eyes stared at yoy, his face was a few inches away from yours.

"I wish I could kiss you, right now." he whispered.

You've repressed the urge to lean forward and bring your lips together.

"And I wish you were sober."

You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away.

You walked out of his room without looking back, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to leave.

The only thing you were sure of was that your thoughts were even more confused than that morning.

He didn't want to see you? He liked you? He hated you? He wanted to kiss you? He couldn't explain what was going on?

You entered your house being as careful as possible not to make noise, you got into your room and you dropped on the bed , staring at the ceiling not knowing what to do.

You sighed. "Shit."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The next day, Eddie wasn't at school. The cafeteria was too quiet when he wasn't there.

"Eddie won't talk to me about it." Dustin said when he saw you in the hallway.

"He doesn't seem to want to tell anyone about it." You commented closing your locker.

"What do you mean?"

"We... met. But he wouldn't tell me what his problem is."

You didn't want to explain in detail what happened and you didn't want to tell Dustin that Eddie was drunk.

"I hope you resolve whatever is between you soon."

You looked at Eddie's locker across the hall, the one he hardly ever used because he never brought his books to school. Someone had spray-canned the word "freak" over it.

And in that moment you realized why Eddie had acted that way, why he had pushed you away: he was afraid that people would start treating you the way he did if you got close to him.

You'd been a stupid not to realize that before.

And he'd been a stupid to think you cared a shit about that.

"Yeah, I hope so too."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You hadn't called Eddie on the phone because you wanted to talk to him in person and when you came home from school it was pouring with rain, so you had decided that before class started the next day you would go to him and talk.

But that evening, someone knocked on your door.

"I'm going!" You yelled at your parents in the other room.

You opened the door to find Eddie wet from head to toe waiting in silence.

"Eddie?"

"Hi, I…I need to talk to you." He brushed a strand of hair dripping from his face.

"Great, I have to do it too. Come in."

"No, I'll be quick. And your parents are at home, I don't think I can get in."

You huffed. "I can' decide who I want to see."

"I'll be quick." He repeated.

"Okay." You finally said, stepping into the rain and closing the door behind you.

"No, wait-"

"Tell me everything."

Eddie watched as the rain began to fall on you and wet your hair and clothes.

All that just to talk to him.

Sometimes he thought you were crazier than him.

"First of all, I'm sorry." He started. "I wanted to protect you. I thought you'd be better off without me in your life you know? Without Eddie 'the freak' Munson. I thought people would start talking shit about you and I didn't want them to start treating you like they treat me. I didn't want them too gave you a stupid nickname, and I didn't want your friends to leave you just because of me, just because you were my friend. I didn't want your parents to get mad at you for dating me. Hell, I didn't want to ruin the your life and I thought the best thing to do was to tell you that I didn't want to see you anymore, even if that hurt me like hell."

"Eddie, I couldn't care less what people think of me." You said taking a step closer to him as thunder rumbled in the distance. "I never cared. I only cared about you because I like you since you sat next to me on that bench because you knew something was wrong just by looking at me."

"What if you lose your friends because of me?" He asked.

"They weren't real friends then."

"What if people start making things up about you?"

"Eddie, stop it."

"What if your parents get upset and-"

"What if we start hanging up again?" You interrupted him, "What if you start taking me to school in the morning and visiting me at night? What if we do another horror movie marathon in my room when everyone is asleep and you let me hold your hand even if you know I'm not scared? What if we just stay together? What if I tell you that I've missed you? That I still miss you and that I still need you in my life?

What if I tell you that I like you, that I love you because you are you and I don't care what people might say about you about us. What if-"

You gasped when his lips met yours, when he brought his hands to your cheeks and his thumbs brushed away the raindrops as he kissed you.

He tasted like smoke. And home.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for everything." he whispered.

"It's okay, I think I like you anyway." You chuckled before pulling him back to you.

That was the night you kissed Eddie Munson in the rain and that was the night you showed him that it didn't matter what people thought about you as long as you had eachother.

[thissongisawesome]

now, do i personally believe that maya and franziska would actively try to get phoenix and edgeworth together? not really. BUT. i don't see the harm in people writing scenarios in which they would? ik this sounds silly since maya and franziska wingmaning is one of the more popular ace attorney fic tropes, but i feel like recently i've seen a lot of hate towards and and i don't understand why!

think of it this way: maya is phoenix's best friend and like pseudo little sister, they're extremely close, and i'm pretty sure she teases him about his love life AT LEAST once in canon (it could be more, or i could've completely made this up, but i've played the trilogy enough where if i tried i could probably find an example but it's late and i'm tired). anyway with that said, why WOULDN'T she care about them getting together? she's shown in the first game to be pretty invested in "the deal with [nick] and edgeworth" her words, not mine. i'm not one to speak on later games because i honestly haven't touched them in over two years and even then they were a complete blur and i forgot everything except that edgeworth looked really ugly from the front. but. if my memory serves me i don't think their dynamic changed much? i can't see her caring AS much at 28 as she would at 17, because obviously she's grown and matured, but i don't think she'd be completely uninterested like some people say. maybe she wouldn't be wearing comical disguises to spy on them, but i could see her encouraging nick, or idk just telling trucy stuff about their old cases to stir something up.

i think the franziska side of things is where i'm a little more understanding, but also not really. on one hand, i get that she's very well put together and mature seeming. on the other hand, that's only how she SEEMS. i won't get into a whole franziska analysis because this post is already longer than i wanted and no one wants to hear me ramble about her, but she's not really as mature as she seems. anyway, would she care THAT much? the answer may surprise you!

now think of it THIS way: edgeworth is franziska's little brother. despite how she acts sometimes she obviously loves him dearly, and would (probably) just want him to be happy, with whatever foolishness it may endure. phoenix wright is franziska's sworn enemy. she can't stand him and feels as though he has personally wronged her before they even met. absolutely hates his guts (except for when they investigate together then they can be friends). franziska is incredibly smart, but she's clearly not the best emotionally. even with that, though, she seems to understand how important edgeworth is to phoenix ("earthquake blah blah blah" "are you thinking of miles edgeworth blah blah blah"). she kind of just accepts this, even though it implies that phoenix (a man he only recently reconnected with) would be on a similar level of emotional connection as his sister. maybe she doesn't think much about it though. she's just like sure whatever you're his most dear and indispensable friend i don't care anymore. do people really think that, if somehow she came to the conclusion that edgeworth had feelings for phoenix she wouldn't care in any way??? i'm not saying it'd necessarily be positive and all "you go girlfriend!", but to say she wouldn't CARE is so wild. she'd probably be furious, and so maybe she wouldn't wingman. but she does CARE about her brother, and honestly if it were presented to her on the right way she probably would wingman. one "hey franziska. i bet you can't make your brother get with phoenix wright. if they get together without your guidance then that basically means edgeworth beat you btw" and she's suddenly invested. (dramatized, but you get the point)

tldr; maya and franziska are not so nonchalant and cool that they wouldn't care about one of the most significant people in their lives having feelings for their courtroom rival of over a decade. that is all.

[misscinnamonroll16]

More of the brozone headcanons

John Dory is almost constantly complaining about either his neck or his back (lick my-) hurting

Bruce and Clay pull a Sokka and tell either Poppy or Viva that they don't really remember what their dad looked like but they often picture him looking similar to JD

Clay constantly leaves his clothes lying about and it pisses John off. And for once, Clay is NOT doing it on purpose.

I don't remember if I've said this already but John Dory takes it upon himself to do all of his brother's laundry. Like fold and everything. Problem is he doesn't tell them he's doing this. He just takes their laundry, washes it, dries it, folds it and puts it back. They only notice that their laundry has gone missing after it's been returned. The lil bros get together and are like "is it you? If it's not you then who?" Process of elimination at that point.

When Floyd drops something, he flicks it off before picking it up.

John Dory experimented with makeup when he was on his own. Not enough to be great at it or wear it all the time but enough. He definitely winged his liner with a knife.

Clay snorts when he laughs really hard

The younger brothers definitely still snitch on each other to John Dory. Clay being a little shit to Floyd and Floyd goes "John! Clay's being mean to me!" "Clay stop being mean to Floyd or so help me God, I'll come down there!" They all know it's incredibly childish and they're way too grown up to be tattling but that's not going to stop them

When they were in school, the younger brothers didn't do the thing of accidentally calling the teacher mom, they accidentally called their teacher John/John Dory/JD. John doesn't know about it and they'd like to keep it that way.

John likes cooking to music. He'll most often play some of their old albums and some of the other music their grandma had. It's all fine and dandy until one of the others walk into the kitchen and either scared the crap out of him or make fun of his dancing

The boys favorite candies: JD likes spicy candy and sour candy. Bruce likes the fruit candies, mike and ikes, things like that. Clay likes salted caramels and sour candy. Floyd is definitely a lover of chocolate but especially dark chocolate. Branch doesn't really have a favorite candy but if he had to pick he'd say gummies or gumdrops.

Floyd's room is decorated with posters and pictures all over the walls, you can barely see the actual wall.

Floyd convinces John to get his ears pierced after seeing John Dory just stare longingly at his ears (it sounds way weirder than it is 😆)

Floyd has the highest pain tolerance, then John, Branch, Clay and Bruce

Floyd definitely would walk around in an adult onesie (like a stitch one)

Floyd's favorite holiday is Halloween (or whatever it's called in their universe)

For Halloween, usually Clay dressed up as a superhero, Floyd was a princess, branch got roped into whatever Floyd was doing. The other two were "too old" to trick or treat but when they did dress up, John often went for either a hero or first responder. Bruce always tried the gory costumes

John feels like he can't do the things that his brothers do (mainly Floyd) with decorating their bodies. He's still got that "I need to be perfect" mentality, making him think he can't get body mods. Floyd convinces him to do the thing.

Floyd knows how to pole dance. He says he learned it for the exercise.

Clay still believes in Santa in secret

[xetswan]

Twilight- Mortality, Chapter One- Day Before

(Alice X reader X Jasper)

[One] [Two]

Bella and Edward are getting married, the invitation lying in my hand as I talk to Jasper and Alice.

Something Alice made herself. "Why are you giving this to me?" I tilt my head to the side in confusion. I only ask due to the fact that I have been shopping with my girlfriend for this wedding since we were told about it.

"It's just to say that you have it. Keepsake." She smiles, kissing my cheek before walking away. Leaving Jasper and I in the living room alone.

"You excited for the wedding?" He suddenly speaks up, lifting my thoughts away from the paper. "Mm, I don't like what comes after but what can I do about that?" I shrug my shoulders, the room goes back to being quiet and he lifts his arms. Inviting me into them.

Without a second thought I let him embrace me. He knows how I feel about Bella becoming a vampire. I'm not the biggest fan of it. I wish we could've grown old together, have our little families. Our kids be cousins.

But both of us succumbed to a fate we should've never experienced or had to endure. Even if she technically has the choice, she truly doesn't. The Volturi would stop at nothing to kill her if they had it their way.

"You have to break them in." Alice tells Bella who just stumbled a little in her heels."I've been breaking them in. For three days. Can I just go barefoot?" My sister questions, I smirk knowing what the response will be. "No, absolutely not."

"Just thinking it's a little much, you know? the dress and the shoes and all of this." She gestures ahead of us. Jasper and Carlisle carrying benches for the bride and grooms sides.

"No, it's exactly enough. Tomorrow will be perfect." Alice grins cheerfully. Emmett then comes into view. "Where do you want them, boss?" He asks, carrying a long tree trunk. "On either side of the aisle."

Rosalie then walks past with another tree stump. "What aisle?" She seems a little annoyed. "Does no one have vision?" My girlfriend exasperates loudly, throwing her arms in the air, heading over to them to explain where she wants everything.

I watch Bella take her heels off then put her converse on.

"Sorry you have to deal with her." I rub my sister's shoulder but I can't hide the very clear smirk on my face. For once I'm not getting dressed in ridiculous clothing. Due to this wedding it's only things about the decorations or stuff for other people. Not me.

I love Alice, I love every quirk she has. I love them more when they have nothing to do with me and they're focused on others. "It's only for a few more days then it's all back to you." She gives me a knowing look and I let out a short laugh.

"True."

Alice comes back over to us, putting my arm around her waist. "You, go home and get lots of beauty sleep. Your sister will take you home. That's an order." She points to both of us. "Okay."

The two hug and Bella walks away. Alice picks her heels up.

"Please make sure she gets good sleep tonight." She suddenly turns to me with the heels in her hands. "Yes ma'am." I nod my head, giving a tiny salute.

"I love you." She kisses my lips. "I love you too. I pull her in my arms, pressing her into another kiss. "You gotta go." She pushes me back with a smile.

"Ugh but I'll miss you so much." I whine, trying to kiss her again but she laughs, keeping a hand out, the other still holding the shoes. "I'll miss you too but you have to go." She tells me, I pout but listen to her.

"I'm gonna go say goodbye to the other love of my life." I walk off, hurrying over to Jasper.

Jasper's setting some of the flowers up, unaware I'm there. I quietly get ready to pounce on him. Squinting my eyes on how I'm going to do it. I glance around. The only person around is Rosalie. We make eye contact and I put a finger to my lips, motioning for her to stay quiet. At first she nods but then I see a glint in her eyes but it's too late I was already going forward.

"Jasper!" She shouts, earning his attention, he finally realizes I'm there. Ruining the element of surprise. I jump right into his arms and he catches me.

"Rosalie! I can't believe you." I act shocked. Once I saw her I knew she was going to do that. She's done it before.

"Anyway, I have to go before our girl yells at me once again. Just wanted to say I love you before I left." He was still holding onto me. My legs wrapped around his torso. "Well I love you too." He gives me a kiss.

"Yeah, yeah." I drop down, kissing him one last time then heading to Bella's truck.

I don't know why Alice said I was taking her home when Bella was going to be the one who drove us.

"Sleepover tonight?" Bella asks as we entered the house. "Um, hell yeah." I grin, "Let me get dressed and I'll bring snacks up." I tell her, both of us going separate ways to our rooms.

After getting dressed I go to leave my room but I hear noise outside and I immediately know who it is. Edward is seeing Bella before the wedding. Against Alice's repeated threats for him not to do that.

I look out of my window to see Emmett and Jasper. Emmett points to me, then points to Jasper and makes kissy faces. I roll my eyes with a smile.

I head out of my room and upstairs but I stop myself when I hear their conversation. I attempt to block it out of my head. Trying to focus on a different sound in the house. I lean against the wall and then I remember I have to get the snacks so I walk downstairs. Charlie seemed to already have gone to bed.

I get a bunch of snacks together, most of Bella's favorites then a few of my weird ones that I enjoy after turning into a Hybrid.

After putting them into a grocery bag I hear a whistle from outside. "What is that?" I hear Bella ask. "Come on! Let's go!" Emmett shouts from outside. "I'm late for my bachelor party." Edward responds. I hear a thud. "Send him out, Bella, or we're coming in after him." Emmett tells my sister.

I smile to myself, lifting the bag and walking back upstairs. Loudly crinkling the bag, entering her bedroom. "So, this party. Will there be strippers?" My sister asks, both of them acknowledging me but in the same not.

"No, just a couple of mountain lions. Maybe a few bears." Edward chuckles. A thump comes from the window and Jasper is there. "Don't worry, Bella, we'll give him back in plenty of time." He then winks over to me, jumping back down. Emmett and him playfully shoving one another.

"Okay, go before they break my house."

"Let's go! Let's go!" Emmett shouts. "I'll meet you at the altar." Edward says, heading to the window. "I'll be the one in white." My sister awkwardly tells him. "That was very convincing."

She laughs as he jumps out of the window. The both of us go over and watch the three guys mess with each other.

Once they're gone, I shake the bag. Getting her attention. "What movie we watching tonight?" I ask, both of us heading over to her bed and she gets her laptop out. I let her choose the movie and I try to focus on it.

Only hearing her heartbeat instead. Listening to the calmness. I glance over to her practically already asleep. Her breathing was slowed, heavy. I think about how this is one of her last moments as a human.

My chest tightens at the thought of her having to go through the pain I did when I turned into a Vampire.

I then feel her hand find its way to my arm. Mumbles exiting her mouth, obviously distressed. I look over to her clock and it's already been three hours.

I look at the laptop and the credits of the movie had already passed, its back to the loading screen. I didn't even notice the time go by.

She makes another noise and I play with her hair, trying to do what our mother used to do for us when we were little.

"What did I say about beauty sleep?" Alice questions Bella who grimaces. "Sorry, bad dream. It was wedding jitters." She apologizes, I think about last night and how many times she woke up.

Rosalie walks into the room, looking gorgeous. "Do you need some help? I could do her hair." She turns to my girlfriend who goes to speak but Bella interjects. "Really?"

"Please. I'm not offended by your choice of groom." She plays with Bella's hair. "Just my blatant lack of respect for mortality." Bella says.

"Essentially." Rosalie gently smiles. "Weddings. They bring everyone together." Alice dreamily sighs, leaning into my body. The three of us were dressed in purple dresses. Well I was in a dress suit. It was a similar color to Alice's.

We then hear Renee and Charlie speaking outside of the room. "[Name]? Bella?" Our mom calls out. "In here, mom." We yell together.

Renee enters first. "Oh, my gosh! You're so beautiful. Oh, honey." She begins to tear up. "Crap! My mascara." I let out a little laugh, going over to her and giving her a handkerchief. She leans into my side hug. "Thanks, sweetie. Charlie, get in here." She shouts over to the door.

"You sure? I don't wanna..." He walks into the room wearing a tux. All of us shocked by his clean get up. "I know. I look hot." We all laugh.

"We thought you needed something blue." Charlie then opens a gift box containing a hair comb that has blue jewels on it. "And something old. Besides your mother." He jokes, my mom shaking her head. "Nice."

"It was Grandma Swan's." Charlie informs her. Bella picks it up. "But we added the sapphires." Renee points to it. "It's beautiful, you guys. Wow. Thank you so much." Bella hands it over to Alice.

"It's your first family heirloom. Well it could be yours and [Name]s. Pass on to her then to your guy's daughters then onto their daughters." Renee begins to cry again. My body tenses up and I glance over to Alice who gives me a sympathetic smile.

"Mom, I love it." Bella goes to hug our parents but my girlfriend stops her.

"Nope, no smudging my masterpiece." She orders. I snort, Renee gently slapping me. "She's right."

"Okay. Time for the dress! Do you want to see it?" She asks Renee. "I want to see it!"

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The Potty Incident /blurb/

AN: i thought this was a cute concept and wrote it out. if you think anything about this is inappropriate, grow up. this is just an example of a fatherly duty and nothing more. i really hope you enjoy. thank you for reading. xoxo

This story contains: child almost having an accident in their pants, fluff

{ dadrry - husband!harry - any harry era - Rosie (daughter) age 3 }

word count- 764

While at the grocery store with just his daughter Rosie, she suddenly tells her daddy she has to potty and that leads to Harry running across the store with her to take her to the bathroom so no accidents occur.

Harry decided to take your three year old daughter Rosie to the grocery store with him while you took a nap. You were feeling drained from being six months pregnant with your second baby and Harry insisted you took a nap while they're out of the house.

Everything was going fine until Rosie whined from the cart Harry was pushing her around in that she had to potty. See the thing was, she was at that age where she's pretty much potty trained but on occasion will still have an accident. Usually it's when she can't make it to a toilet fast enough or sometimes when she's asleep.

You and Harry are very understanding when she does have accidents because potty training can be a tough thing to teach and learn. But you do try to avoid accidents as much as possible. So when Rosie tells her daddy she has to potty as he's picking up some bananas in the produce section of the store, his fight or flight clicks in. The one he uses for times like this or when she says she feels like she's gonna be sick, and does the only thing he can think to do in the moment.

"Shit," Harry whispers to himself, "alright, alright. Come 'ere." He drops the bananas in the basket and lifts little Rosie up from the cart seat. Once she's in his arms, Harry leaves his cart in the middle of the aisle and proceeds to jog to the back of the store where he knows the bathrooms to be. "It's gonna be alright. Hold it for a minute more, okay baby."

"But daddy," Rosie whines, clutching around Harry's neck while he basically runs through the store with her, "gotta potty really bad." Luckily not even ten seconds later they are met with a wall of bathrooms and Harry thanks god they have a family bathroom. He hates when he's out in public alone with his daughter and has to decide how he's going to take her to the bathroom when the only options are the men's room and the women's room.

Because he'll be damned if he takes his sweet baby girl into the men's room and she sees something she doesn't need to see at her innocent age. Or get cursed out by middle aged white ladies when they see him, a grown 6ft man with tattoos in the women's room. Even when he clearly has a child with him. So gender neutral / family restrooms are ideal for situations like this one.

Harry rushes into the one toilet bathroom and locks the door. Then he quickly sets Rosie down to the floor and helps her lift her dress and panties down before setting her on the toilet seat. He wishes he had time to wipe the seat off before hand but time wasn't an option for them at the moment. Just as she goes potty, he sighs in relief that they made it in time with no accidents occurring.

Still slightly out of breath from running across the store, he balls up some toilet paper and hands it to his daughter saying, "Okay, make sure you wipe really well. Just like mummy taught you." And that she does. She takes the toilet paper and wipes just like you had taught her when teaching her to use the potty on her own.

Rosie looks up at her father when she's finished and mutters, "All dones." Harry lifts her off the public toilet seat and helps pull her underwear back up and her dress back down. Then he flushes the toilet and carries the three year old to the sink to help her wash her hands. Once her small hands are all clean and dry, he lifts Rosie back up in his arms and proceeds to carry her back over to where he left his cart in hopes no one took it.

Thankfully the shopping cart was where he left it and Harry helps his daughter back in the basket seat to continue there shopping journey. As they wrap up grocery shopping and stand in the check out line, Rosie looks up from where she's sat in the cart and says, "Thank you daddy for helping me go potty so I didn't have an accident." with her tiny but round lips puckered as if asking for a kiss.

Harry leans down to except the generous kiss his daughter was giving and replies, "'Course, baby. And thank you for telling daddy that you had to go potty so you didn't have an accident. Love you so much. Now lets get home to mummy."

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