#which also means some of these are ugly as hell but i try to keep everything in one place 😔

[phas3d]

Fake Dating | Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: fake dating is the FUEL TO MY LIFE AHHH slightly inspired by "please please please" by Sabrina Carpenter because ofc it is

DRACO MALFOY

He's bullied you for ages, literally making your high school years hell

But after his father and mother pressure him with questions about a girlfriend

He gets sick of it and wants to shut up for ONE NIGHT just one fucking night

So he gets you to pretend to be his partner, because you're the only girl willing to say yes (because ur scared of him)

Corners you and threatens you, "If you don't give me an Oscar worthy performance I will literally burn all of your uniforms and books"

Now you're at his house, eating expensive steak under 3 chandeliers

No one knows why he has 3 chandeliers,,, not even his parents

But instantly, his parents love you for your nerdiness and cuteness

They see you as a sweet and innocent little partner for Draco :)

But uh oh... you were TOO perfect for his parents

Now Draco is asking you to go with his parents to Germany for a "little trip"

Except their idea of a "little trip" is a week vacation in the most expensive hotel and meeting German celebrities

You can't speak German, but Draco can so he helps answer any questions asked towards you

But for some reason, he gets super agitated as you keep attending parties and people keep coming up to you

He gets so mad on the second-to-last-day of the week vacation to the point he grabs some random guys collar and shouts at him

You pull try to pull them apart but it's too late...

Draco gets his ass whooped... Badly... Embarrassingly bad...

You leave the party early, going back to the hotel alone as you patch his wounds

That's when you ask why he was so upset

But he refuses to answer, saying it's just that the guy was annoying

It's obvious that he's lying, so you keep pushing him and pushing him

So he angrily blurts out: "Because people keep fucking asking for your number!!! GOD!!! You're so dense!"

He says as he lightly flicks your forehead before staring deeply into your eyes: conveying everything he's been feeling for you for these past weeks of "fake dating"

TOM RIDDLE

Mattheo is Tom's worse enemy, despite being brothers

Yet again, Mattheo teases and mocks Tom for being a loser with zero "rizz" or whatever that means

He's sick of Mattheo's stupid ass slang, everyday he hears "you're a beta" "ur aura is so low" "zero rizz bruh"

He's literally going to kill him

But sadly he can't do that, so he comes up with a different solution

He chooses you, a random kid he did a project with once, to pretend to be his new partner

You were hesitant but he then threw in an extra bonus, he would do all your homework for two classes of your choice

So obviously you had to take it

He had to prepare you for the worse: Mattheo

Tom forced you to visit his dorm to study how to reply to Mattheo when you finally meet him

He also made you study how to act like a couple in public

Which he knew nothing about... He was technically right about hand holding and matching clothes

But his version of hand holding was very uncomfortable, the type where you don't interlock fingers

And the clothes he picked were ugly as hell, no way you'd ever wear that stuff

So you had to help him a lot with learning how to act natural in relationships

When he feels that you're finally prepared, he lets you meet Mattheo

Mattheo is super sus at first but is too dumb to question harshly

But now, you're stuck as pretending to be Tom's girlfriend for the rest of the year

He's painfully unaffectionate in public which makes you slightly embarrassed because he makes you look like a clingy girlfriend

But in private, when he's teaching you what to say and doing your homework: he's surprisingly sweet

He gets better at being a boyfriend over time and even takes you on full dates, not just fake photoshoots to post online

But he's still insisting to keep this relationship as just beneficial, no string attached

You can't help but start to fall for him, it's literally impossible to not

He gifts you everything you've ever wanted, takes you to fancy places, making him chuckle under his breathe feels more rewarding than any A+ ever, and those small private moments where you can feel a soul behind his eyes instead of the ice cold make you love him

So you cut it off with him, lying and saying you don't need the benefits and it's too hard to keep lying

He accepts this and lets you go

You end up being really popular once you're single

And that pisses him off ENDLESSLY

He found you first! He basically made you! You're still his, he can't let someone take all his hard work

And for some reason,,, he felt hollow after you left - as if he lost something dear to him

He's not sure how you brought out these emotions, but he wants it back ASAP

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Oh my god double trope: because Mattheo started dating you because he was dared to

You're seen as a kinda bitch in Hogwarts because a group of girls said so

But in reality, you're really chill and grounded, which surprised Mattheo when he went on your first date

You made him laugh a few times (a lot, he's too cocky to admit it)

And you also were really similar to Mattheo, you liked the same games and shows

As he kept pretending to date you, he started to actually like you and your presence

But he's still not too attached because he knows he needs to break up with you in about 2 months

As the weeks pass by, you accidentally read a message for Mattheo

It was from Theo, saying "Jesus dude, you two almost seem like a real couple. You should try acting haha"

You froze but started to plot your revenge on him

You kept acting like everything was fine and normal, and then broke up with HIM

Mattheo was shocked, because not only has he completely fallen for you but he's also never been broken up with

He unsure of what to do, but all he knows is he wants you back

THEODORE NOTT

Pulling girls has almost never been a problem for Theo his entire life

He even pulled grown women while being 14 years old (he's a victim...)

But his main problem is pulling a girl that would be approved by his parents

Theo surrounds himself with heavy drinkers, partiers, and dumb jocks: meaning there's not many partners that are "marriage material"

So he asks you, the Head Girl of your house, to pretend to be his girlfriend for family events

You agreed due to the large sum of money he was paying you, it's insane how rich he is

Every time Theo had a family event, he would just call you up and BOOM his family loves you

But as you keep coming to these family events, acting as a couple becomes less and less awkward for you both

You both agreed to not kiss each other due to this just being acting, plus kissing at family events is weird

But God, Theo really wants to break that rule when you and him are alone on the balcony at night while you ramble about the struggles of being Head Girl

He never thought he'd fall for the super nerdy, responsible, and awkward Head Girl - but he did, and he fell super hard

Theo wants to straight up ask you to be his real girlfriend, but he's so scared

He's scared of making you uncomfortable for catching feelings or making you think he planned this all along

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Enzo's best friend is Blaise, almost everyone knows that

But what everyone also knows is that Blaise has the FATTEST crush on your best friend, Pansy Parkinson

And even more well known is that Pansy liked him back

There was literally no reason for these two to not get together, they were just too scared to confess

Which is odd since they're both so head-strong and confident, you guess it's just because they're scared of rejection

So Enzo reaches out to you, asking you to help come up with a plan to set them both up on a date

You two are complete strangers, only ever talking once or twice whilst in a group

So you both create a lie: that you and Enzo are going on a first date and need them to tag along to make it a "double date"

Obviously, this works on them because they're great friends

So now you and Enzo are on an awkward fake date while your best friends basically make out next to you

The original plan was just to tell Pansy and Blaise that there was no spark between you and Enzo

But due to you both spending an entire 12 hours together with Blaise and Pansy, you guys got comfortable with each others

He makes you laugh a ton and you do the same

You both love really niche topics and shows, even sharing the same favorite sports teams

Your bond only grows stronger after Blaise and Pansy ask for another double date

But you and Enzo take it slow, having the most sexual tension for months because you both were just claiming to be "friends only"

You finally broke that after about 4 months, thank God

[lowkeyrobin]

Hey pookie😽I’d like to request headcanons for the mcyts with an actor/actress s/o.<3 Especially how they’d react to any emotional scenes or if the character that their s/o played dies, im craving some angst right now lol

Ly😻

oooo okay okay ; I'm still very much burned out but unable to give myself a damn break so I apologize for these being so short ; I also named movies to get some inspo so sorry if you don't know any/some of them lol

ALSO!! I'm gonna rework my oneshot links on my masterlist so beware any changes lol

MCYT ; actor reader with death scenes

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu & quackity

warnings ; language, talk about death, gore & violence

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you played a character in evil dead rise, which tommy got really attached too even though you got like 10 minutes of screen time

genuinley started sobbing and laughing at the same time bc your death was so sad to him for some reason yet so cool and bloody

he looks over at you, jaw dropped like "wtf?"

there's actually tears streaming down his cheeks 💀💀💀

you post a pic of him crying on ur ig story and caption it "he's sad I died"

he logs back into his old letterboxd account to rate it 5 stars

his explanation is "my partner died but good movie. I almost cried again seeing the monster thing at the end though"

RANBOO

you had a little cameo in a quiet place pt2

basically your character was alive for a while and helping out the abbotts until you died saving reagan from one of the death angels

she obviously couldn't hear one behind her and your character had to lunge and save her and sacrifice themselves on the island that she ran off too iykwim

like your character went off with her to keep her safe + you died during that chase/fight scene at the end

ran nearly broke down into tears because you got a solid two hours of time in that movie for all that buildup and shit

TO DIE TOO

they started crying a bit cause like ???

literally gave you an award (a massive hug) for your incredible acting skills bc damn

FREDDIE BADLINU

insidious the red door goes crazy

you bond with dalton at college and help him float around and shit

the demon doesn't like that you're helping him whatsoever so it drags your character into the further

the whole kill is done with you exploring the further for a moment, being hunted down by prey and then jumpscared by the demon

it's not a very emotional death but it scares the fuck out of Freddie

"wait, oh my God, they'll never be able to talk to Dalton about supernatural stuff again! what the hell?"

the death was pointless and for a jumpscare but he couldn't care, he enjoyed watching you on the screen

NIKI NIHACHU

you were in the forever purge

you play a very obviously queer & pro-human rights character who's shit on by all the rich, conservative, ranch owning Texans in the movie

you basically had to sacrifice yourself trying to get to the border in time

in the city scene, you get killed as a protection sacrifice

no way you were letting adela die

niki literally started crying bc there was no reason for your character to give up their life but they did anyways

you were such a w the whole movie and she can't help but rant about that as well

she gives you a round of applause at the end cause like that was a damn good performance cmon now

ALEX QUACKITY

alex is never watching any terrifier movie ever again holy fuck

you skipped over the first one bc you couldn't even watch it again and went to the second because you were in it

he was actually on edge the whole movie

what the hell do you mean you were cut in half??? wtf is this?? saw???

he actually almost puked LMAO

you were laughing the whole time your death was playing

"WHAT THE HELL WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?? THIS UGLY CLOWN IS KILLING MY PARTNER"

"that mf doesn't know you Alex, I do"

"Okay whatever"

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 7

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

5k words

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜

The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.

Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.

Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.

For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.

Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.

It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.

“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.

Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.

It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.

“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.

For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?

Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.

Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).

To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.

That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.

“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.

“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”

“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.

“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”

“I haul my own drumset every week!”

“Can we get back to the game?”

“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”

So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.

He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.

“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.

“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?

“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.

“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”

The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?

Oh. Oh what the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.

That had never stopped him from trying though.

“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”

This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.

“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.

“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.

“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”

Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?

And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?

“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”

You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?

“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.

“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.

Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.

“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.

“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”

“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.

Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.

You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-

“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”

“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?

Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.

Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”

Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.

“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”

“I have dark vision!”

Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.

When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.

He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.

Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.

Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-

No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.

It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.

Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.

“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.

The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.

“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”

It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.

Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.

“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.

“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.

“Yeah.”

It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”

“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.

“I guess.” he shrugged.

“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.

“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”

“But she likes you.”

“Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.

“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”

Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”

“They liked her too.”

“More than the California girl?”

The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.

Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...

It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.

“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-

But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-

“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.

“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”

“So ask her on a date.”

“What?”

“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”

Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.

“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”

“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”

Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.

He wanted to call you.

He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.

Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.

It rang once.

Twice.

Six times.

No response.

“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.

It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.

Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.

There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.

So he drove to Family Video.

If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.

At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?

Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.

The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.

He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.

Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.

He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.

“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.

Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.

Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.

Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.

Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.

---

Next Chapter

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[bellarkeselection]

We’re All Family Here

Reader is Carter’s younger sister and she has a prosthetic leg and the reader is worried that Rip and Beth will kick her off the ranch if they found out. Wattpad request from - @Quackity_bwead

Pulling down the Jean of my right leg I sighed staring at myself in the mirror that was in my room in Rip and Beth’s house. My brother Carter was already up for work in the barn but I got to sleep in this morning which was rare. Walking out of the house I headed to the barn with large Y above the doorway. The sun had just started to rise above the mountains and everybody was busy already working. Taking my horse out of the stall I climbed on feeling my fake leg hanging over. “Alright boy, let’s go.”

Kicking my horse we rode off towards the sunset with the wind running through my hair. I was wearing a tan dark cowgirl hat and my hair was tied in a braid. Riding through the fields I saw my older brother Carter who was trying to rope a cafe but it started running at me. “Y/n, watch out!” He cried when the cafe got underneath my horses leg and it spooked causing the horse to throw me off its back.

“Sis I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get a good hold on it.” My brother apologized coming over on his horse while Ryan rode past me to go grab my horse that had ran off somewhere else.

Rubbing the back of my neck I winced feeling some pain but it wasn’t as bas I have normally been through. Shifting my gaze away from my brother I saw that Rip was riding over to us. He dismounted his horse quickly dropping himself on a knee in front of me. “What the hell happened, kid. You can’t be injuring any of our guys!..are you hurt Y/n?”

“No just sore a little.” I shook my head not understanding why his deep brown eyes seemed to be filled with concern.

Rip moved closer to me touching my right leg and he pulled up the fabric of my pant. Once he saw something odd sticking out of your pant leg he knew something must be wrong. “Then what exactly is wrong with your leg here?” He questioned me where I finally noticed that he had seen my fake leg.

“I….uh….” I yanked my leg back feeling my face turn red being embarrassed over this. Carter wasn’t with me the night of the accident. I was just driving back to our place with our dead beat dad until someone rear ended me harshly.

Rip saw that I wasn’t going to answer him so he called to Ryan who had brought back my horse. “Ryan, take her back to the ranch.” Getting to my feet I climbed back on my horse and followed the ranch hand back to the ranch then he went back to work like Rip had asked him.

Laying on my bed inside my room I stared at the ceiling in silence and a pit of nervousness. Sitting upright I knew I had messed up or more so my brother had. I had done my best to keep the fact that I had a prosthetic leg a secret. In fear that if they knew I would be removed from the ranch. Someone came down the hallway and I lifted my head up seeing it was Beth. “Hi mom….uh what’s up?” I nervously asked since she had just started letting me call her that.

“I heard about your fall today from Rip. I’m happy you shook it off but we need to talk about something.” She entered the bedroom before I saw that Rip was also walking in behind her heels.

Playing with my thumbs in my lap I avoided their gazes when they came to sit down on the bed. Well Beth did leaving Rip standing directly in front of me. “So are you going to tell me about your leg or no?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it…” I gulped trailing off in my response already knowing the answer they would give me.

It was hard enough for Carter to prove that he would be a good worker. I already was a good hand but the fake leg wasn’t a good look. John Dutton had the greatest ranch in Montana and that means he should have close to the best people working for him. “You better tell us otherwise things will get ugly.” Beth warned me with her annoyed look and I froze knowingly.

"It's...it's about my prosthetic leg..." Rolling my pants leg, I made it visible to their gaze, and I didn't dare make eye contact with either of them. "I didn't want to tell you about it because I've been sp terrified of what you would say. Even though I get my work done, nobody else on this ranch has one. So I....just assumed that you would kick me off the ranch over it."

Rip put his hands on his hips, tilting my head to the side slightly. "That's totally ridiculous, Y/n. We would never do that."

"This family may be complicated, but we don't abandon our family members." Beth shifted on her spot on the bed, grasping my hand in hers.

Hanging my mouth open I couldn't believe it. "Really but I thought that-"

"That what us having some cowboys from the prison and others in debt wouldn't have given you the message that we take in the trouble so they can have a home." Rip declared, coming to sit down beside me, tucking hair behind my ear.

I parted my lips without thinking I fling my arms around his neck hugging him tightly. Rip stiffened up at the embrace but calmed down after a second and wrapped his arms around me with the same comfort. “Thank you….I didn’t think you would let me stay.” I sniffed against his chest.

“Anyone who has a problem with that will have to deal with me.” Beth responded after I hugged her and she actually hugged me back too to my surprise. I smiled at the pair knowing that Carter and I were gonna do really good here. This wasn’t just a rnhc, it was a family for everybody.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[nieceeee]

“WHERE TO NOW?”

PS: babydaddy!eren and y/n have been distancing themselves from one another. Eren wants to be with her but feels like her heart is in another place…or with another person. He and the boys discover exactly what’s going on as he is babysitting one night…

A/N: Angst, tension, fluff for the most part. Cussing, mention of the name babydoll. This is really for a 3 part series so don’t worry there will be plenty of lovey doves stuff towards the end if y’all want it. The other parts will be a little bit longer than this one. I had to play with your emotions before playing with your….nevermind. ENJOY!

W/C: 2.4K

PREVIOUS FICS TO READ: She’s Not Yours (its probably best to read the Eren playlist…if you’ve read them all, see if you can find the references from the previous fics in this one)

“You look amazing, baby doll.” His voice said from behind you, sending a chill down your spine. You took a deep breath to shake the nerves before you lifted your eyes and stared through the mirror at his. “Thank you Rennie.” You say with a soft smile. Things between you two had been…decent. Weeks after that very dramatic day that started with a bloody nose and ended with his ex hearing beating down yo block, time had seemed to blur together. Eren, freaking out about the entire situation, went back to try and talk to her, hoping to smooth things over which also led to another breakdown from her and him consoling her. And even though he admits nothing happened, the simple fact that he was there for her was something you couldn’t stand. And that alone had you questioning so many things. I mean you weren’t together and neither were they so why does who he has a connection with bother you so much. He said even though they weren’t dating at the time, he didn't want her to feel disrespected and assume you called her intentionally. You understood the sentiment although you didn't give a damn about what she assumed. But because of that, you were at a stand still not only with Eren but with your own emotions as well.

You both (more you than him) decided it would be best to give each other some time to figure out what you wanted to do when it came to the complications revolving around your relationship. Yes, the feelings were there but there was also a lot of unhealed trauma and damage that each of you needed to figure out. Eren wanted to be with you, he knew that without a doubt. The constant back and forth and the fallout of his other relationship taught him a few things and it was in those moments where he realized that you were the only person for him. His first real love, his best friend, the mother of his child. He couldn’t see himself being with anybody else again.

Unfortunately for him, you had other plans. You needed more time to sort through your feelings. The consistent pestering in your mind of what happened every time you had tried to make it work with him before would always rear its ugly head and you’d have to face the reality. No matter how much you wanted it to work, things with you and him were too complicated and with a baby in the mix, it was too much to lose. You were so sure about this but for some reason when you called him over to explain it, you had an wave of uneasiness in your belly. But you stayed the course, expressing to Eren that it wasn't a good idea for you all to jump back into a serious relationship after so much mess had happened. Did he understand? Hell no. Why is he okay to sleep in your bed but not enough to be your man. His heart shattered in pieces when you told him you wanted to keep it friendly but he wouldn't show it on his face. Not in front of you. He wanted you to know he respected your backwards ass decision.

So it seemed like you were back at square one, coparenting and some relationship that bordered between ‘my man my man my man’ and ‘oh we are just friends’. Granted none of your other male friends know how you taste, how you moan when your clit is sucked on, and how to hit that sweet spot that you could only reach when he has you pressed into the mattress, fingers splayed out on your back as he… “No.” you say verbally. It wasn't the time for that, not now or anywhere in the near future. You had made the decision and you had to stick beside it. But you knew that you had to get him out of your head. So you distanced yourself as much as you could, only allowing parental visits and no late night stays. No personal phone calls outside of communication about your son. Nothing to give any indication to the feelings you worked so hard on burying.

Eren hated it.

He hated every lost moment. He hated not being able to touch you. He hated waking up in an empty bed. He hated the way that you would stand on the other side of the room when he came to pick up his baby. It was exhausting but he stayed. It was another night out for you. Eren had come over to babysit and you were just finishing up getting ready when he stepped into the doorframe. You swipe the nude butter gloss over your lips once more, pressing them together to distribute the color when your eyes caught the piercing green ones burning into your skin. You both held each other’s gaze for a while, emotions mixed with arousal building underneath your skin. You forced your eyes to shift back down to your vanity, busying your hands with cleaning the space in front of you. Eren smirked behind you, shifting from leaning against the doorframe and placing his hands on the frame above. “So, you all set to go?” He asks you. “Uh, yeah I think so. I just have to grab some shoes.” You say getting up and walking over to your closet.

You look around at your shoes to find a pair that went well with your multicolored satin dress. The beautiful green, brown,and cream colors blended into a perfect gradient in the fabric and the straps fell gently off your shoulders. You looked down at your choice of cream colored shoes before reaching down and picking up the tie up stilettos, steering clear of the red bottoms. Eren noticed and held back his grin, thinking back to the last time you asked him to pick your shoes for you over FaceTime.

“Okay, all set.” You say, this time actually being ready. “Okay, he should be waking up from his nap in about 2 hours and there are plenty of bags of milk already thawed out. You went over the breakdown for the night, running him through the routine he already knew like the back of his hand. Eren knew you were doing it more so as a checklist for yourself so he allowed you to ramble. “Good?” You say finishing your last thought. “Yeah, all good.” You nod gently and make your way to the door. “Oh, Would it be cool if the guys stopped by later? They asked about lil man but I wanted to make sure you were okay with them being here first.” Eren asks. “Yeah, Ren of course. You know I don't mind them being here.” You say brows pulling together slightly. He shrugged his shoulders from the bottom of the stairs. “Just checking. Have fun.” Your lips part to say something but words seem to get lost. Eren keeps his eyes casted towards the floor, not having the strength to look up and see you leave.

“Eren…” you start but he shakes his head. “Go enjoy yourself babydoll.” You press your lips together then turn and walk out the door.

“YO! We here.” A voice calls from the door. Eren rolls his eyes. “You know you could just knock right?” He says to Ony as he opens the front door. “Where’s the fun in that?” He laughs before dapping him and walking inside. “Whats up with you bro? You good?” Connie says as they come through the doorway and walk towards the living room. “Now why you ask the man that. You know he down bad right now.” Armin teases plopping down on to the reclining chair close to the tv. “Oh so y'all got jokes now? Do we really want to have it out?” Eren says matter of factly. “It’s okay bruh, we know you down bad for your girl.” Ony laughed. “Right and how is that best friend relationship treating you?” Eren teases back. Connie and Armin bust out into laughter. “See that’s different, you actually had a relationship with your girl.” Ony groans slumping down into the seat.

“Okay, okay but all bullshit aside E, how are you doing with all this?” Armin turns, giving him his attention. Eren took a moment. “I-…not good man.” He admits to his friends. “I don't get it. Y’all have always been in this space right? So what’s the difference between then and now.” Connie questions. “The difference is she’s talking to somebody.” Eren says softly. The room seemed to stand still at his confession. “What do you mean ‘talking’? Like the same guy?” Armin sits up, his stare intense. This was new for all of you. As long as you and Eren had been together, the guys have always been there. Even through the breakups you would never find yourself in another relationship. Fucking around was different but being committed to any guy besides Eren was not your thing.

Until now.

“I mean the past few date nights has been the same guy. I know I tripped out the Jean situation but they were just fucking. This ‘Reiner’ dude or whoever he is, she’s dating him man. Like sending flowers and love notes, brunches, and day trips type of shit.” Eren groans “Oh shit…” Ony whispered under his breath. “Yeah, exactly.” Eren’s shoulders slump slightly as he shook his head. “Well, E it might just be a phase. Don’t give up on it bro. If you work hard enough at it things have a way of sorting themselves out.” Connie says collecting stares from around the room. “What?” He says confused. “When the fuck did you get some common sense?” Ony asks. “Yeah, that’s my role.” Armin retorts. Eren begins to chuckle which turns into a full on laugh out loud followed by everyone else. “Man fuck yall. I’m just trying to help my boy out.” Connie tries defending himself through the noise.

The sound of baby whimpers from the monitor pulls Eren’s attention. He stands up and walks back up the steps towards his son’s room. He sat up in the crib rubbing his chunky fists into his eyes. Eren walks over and lifts him carefully from the bed, adjusting him and holding him against his hip. “What’s up little man. You all good? Daddy’s here.” He cooes. His son tilts his head up, sleep still in his eyes and offers his daddy a gentle smile. “Yeah, daddy’s here. Come on let’s go downstairs and see your uncles.”

“Aw man there go my lil homie.” Connie says as Eren comes back downs he steps. “Man he don't even like you. You know I'm his favorite.” Ony speaks getting up from the couch. They follow Eren into the kitchen as he takes out a few bags of the breast milk you left to warm up. “Y’all doing all that talking but yet I’m the goddaddy.” Armin smirks, slipping around the counter and grabbing the baby from Eren. He giggles, reaching out and squeezing Armin’s face. “Man, he looks just like Y/N. It’s still crazy to think yall got a baby together.” He says, shaking his head. “I know right. I still can't believe it myself sometimes.” It was true. Eren looks down at your son again and his chest swells with pride. It was so surreal to have something that was created from him and the person he cared for the most. As they sit around and conversation Eren takes the time to warm up the milk, grabbing his phone from his pocket. A text message dings from an unknown number.

He pulls up the attachment sent to his phone. “What the fuck…” his eyes squint as he stares down at the video loading before him. “What. The. Fuck?!” Eren says a little louder, catching the attention in the room. “Yo E, you good man?” Ony asks. Eren’s ears started to ring as anger swirled through his veins. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “Eren, talk to us man, what's going on?” Connie says. “Aye Min, can you put him in his playpen with the bottle please.” Eren strains, trying to keep him composure around his son. Armin nods quickly working to get the baby and setting him in his safe area. “Okay, what’s up?” He says as he walks back into the kitchen. Eren sits his phone down and slides it across the counter to his friends. They hovered around the screen and watched as you made out against a car outside of the restaurant. Reiners hands sliding all over your body as he kisses your lips and down the side of your neck. Your giggles fill the air as your hands slip up to the back of his head.

“Oh shit.” They say in unison before looking back up at Eren who was pacing across the floor. His vision began to blur as his fists clenched and unclenched. “E, you got to chill bruh. You can't overreact on this one. Come on.” Armin says in a calming voice. “Yeah E, you got to breathe man.” Ony reassures him. “I know. I know, man. FUCK, I know. I just-…” He didn't know what to do. Eren swipes his hands down his face as the burning behind his eyes intensifies. There was a silence that swept through the air. A heavy silence that was filled with uncertainty and fear. Eren had never felt this feeling of unease before. Not with you. But the fear of what this meant for you both. Is this the end of you and him for good? The nerves cause his emotions to overwhelm him as he slumps down to the floor. Armin, Connie, and Ony come and sit down next to him. No words could explain but they stayed with him, allowing him to process everything.

“What am I supposed to do man?” He asks no one in particular. “Do what you can. One day at a time.” Armin says. Eyes shifted up at the ceiling until the burning went away. He took a deep breath. Judging from the angle of the video, he knew you knew nothing about being recorded. So the only things on his mine were, who the fuck was following you and how was he going to face you when you got home…

[ohmeadows]

this is a meandering post as i'm slowly trying to pin down my feelings on how healing is used as a sledgehammer in fandom yet never manages to say anything; but... demanding that others write and re-write to cater to your healing needs is exhausting. the idea that healing is always soft and tender flattens the process too, which in my experience is often ugly as hell and demanding beyond compare. it takes strength and it takes delving into ugly things and sometimes it's extremely unfulfilling when you realize there's nothing left that you can do except throw dirt on it and move on.

steamrolling all healing into some tenderness and softness is... it's not to say that isn't a good part of it, but i don't think it is everything there should be. there's so much to healing, such as what is keeping the healing from happening right now to this character? is it their environment, is it who they are with, is it their loneliness, is it repressed pasts? is it themselves? if you escape the immediate zone of danger, how does your body react? what bubbles up?

one form of media critique that i keep seeing is the... "it didn't heal me personally therefore bad therefore this must happen instead" and the person is just describing a fanfic idea! that they should be writing!

in the fandoms i'm active in, healing is this... amorphous blob people keep saying they want but they can't name it or conceptualize how it'd work for those characters. "i want them happy :(" great. what is happiness to them? what would be required to get there? is being with another person truly the solution? and so on, and so on.

and beyond that, there's the reader's own process of going through the story, of finding catharsis in whichever particular genre they feel drawn to: for me, that's tragedy and doomed narratives and crawling through the trenches while having everything you believe in ripped away and questioned to the pits. that, also, isn't for everyone. i don't think everyone finds the healing i write healing in their definition, and that's fine.

i'm overthinking this from a writing perspective, in the end, thinking about the mechanics and motions necessary to get such a journey instigated and moving, if it's even one the character has interest in going on or has to be dragged through.

anyway. cents thrown into a well. there's doubtless more to say on healing but not every conflict written about in a story will be healed. there's room to sit with what that means and what the story is trying to say with that, what rooms it allows you to enter into.

[jinkookspencil]

i just don't understand pt 2

in which jungkook does not understand how his friend doesn't have a crush on namjoon

a drabble sequel to the drabble 'i just don't understand' -

i'd say you need to read that first, it's just 500 words but if you really don't want to, i included the last bit of dialogue at the beginning of this fic i dont care if drabbles can't have sequels, it just worked out this way lmao

description/tags: jungkook drabble / fluff / friends to lovers / ~900 words / jk comes off a little more insecure here but it kind of works because i'd always imagined this as a younger version of him / hope you enjoy!! / it's been a while since i wrote anything but i have a recent writing update i recently shared (this is *not* the jk thing i am currently working on - i hope to have that done for his birthday!)

+

“What the hell are you attracted to?” Jungkook laughs. “Ugly, stupid, mean, untalented guys?”

“Of course not, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I like other handsome, smart, kind, respectful guys.”

“Like who?”

“Like YOU!”

This was not how you imagined confessing. 

“Like…. Like me?!”

Dropping the plushie in his hands, Jungkook gestures to himself in disbelief.

“I said like you, Jungkook,” you emphasize, hoping it wasn’t too late to back out of your frustration-fueled confession.

“So…. Not me?”

What the fuck were you supposed to say now?! You pick up the teddy bear and tug at its pink fur, staring at its face and hoping the bear’s smile would turn into a murderous one, killing you and waking you up from this anxiety-inducing nightmare. 

Jungkook calls your name quietly and quickly, bringing you back life.

“Like you. You, Jungkook. I like you.”

“Over… over Namjoon?” he winces, and you do too. It was the most humiliating way someone could have responded to a confession…. hoping you’d fall in love with someone else instead. 

“Yes, Jungkook. Over Namjoon," you reply with your head in your hands.

“So all those things you said to describe him… handsome, smart, you think that of me too?”

“Yeah, of course,” you chuckle, finally looking up at him, “that and so much more, actually.”

“But there’s a difference? Between what you think of me and what you think of Namjoon-hyung?”

“Oh, there’s a big difference.”

“You described the both of us with the same string of adjectives, though….”

Jungkook was a clever guy…. Why was he acting so stupid?

“Who cares if you share some similar qualities?! I am not attracted to Namjoon. Period. I am attracted to you, Jeon Jungkook. The person born on September 1, 1997, who always wears black, loves karaoke, samgyeopsal, the movie Titanic, and the scariest fucking theme park rides! The Jeon Jungkook that’s sitting right in front of me. You.”

Jungkook's breath is shaky, his voice the same when he speaks. “I just find it hard to believe…. Not Namjoon. And not only that - me over Namjoon….”

“I don’t know how to explain it in more words, Koo…. I like you. I like you in the way that people have crushes on each other. You make my heart flutter while also putting it at ease. I like you.”

The boy in front of you doesn’t say anything, merely stiffens his posture, and you know it only meant the worst.

“This…. This calls for the end of our friendship doesn’t it?” you mumble, voice breaking and bubbling, ready to burst into tears.

“No…. No, absolutely not….” he says, breaking out of his catatonic state to sit next to you on the couch and hug your plushie once again. “Let me explain something this time… You know how I gush over Namjoon?”

“Of course,” you groan, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“And I always try to understand why you aren’t attracted to him… right?”

“Yeah…”

“I know Namjoon and I are not the exact same. Of course I do, that’s why I look up to him and keep recommending him to you and I guess… I guess it’s because in my head, I was trying to convince myself that you had to go for guys like Namjoon… because you’d never go for guys like me…”

“…. And what do you mean by guys like you?” 

“Guys that have nothing in common with you. You say Namjoon and I are both handsome and smart... But in truth, you and he share the similarities and I could never compete. You're both beautiful in the 'once-in-a-lifetime' kind of way. You're both clever in the book-ish way - do you know you have the exact same books as he does? I bought a book two weeks ago to try and impress you but I haven’t gotten past the introduction so I was too ashamed to even tell you. Oh, that one time, you both recommended the same drama series to me… on the same day. I thought for sure that you’d hooked up and seen it together, and that’d be that. But then you called me crying when it ended, wrapped up in your fluffy pink blanket in bed with chips.”

“You asked me why I didn’t call Namjoon…”

“And you said ‘why would I?’… Even if you weren't hooking up, I could’ve given you a million reasons as to why you could've called him instead. That drama was too artsy for me, but not for either of you. I didn’t even understand what you were saying on the phone that day - the message behind the story, or whatever - I was just so happy that you’d called and that you’d think I’d get it.” 

Jungkook lets out a laugh as he shakes his head. For some reason, it breaks your heart.

“I tried to make ‘you and Namjoon’ happen because it’s the only logical thing I could see in front of me…… The only answer I could come up with… You’re… the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, YN. I want what’s best for you - you deserve the best kind of guy there is…. and that’s definitely Nam-“

You push your lips against Jungkook’s, interrupting him with a kiss.

“It’s you, Jungkook. You’re the best fucking person I know.” You kiss him again. “I’d pick you a million times over.”

“Well, what if-“

“Can we forget about Namjoon entirely for a moment? I want the boy I like to shut up and kiss me…. If you want to, that is.”

Jungkook’s smile turns into one you rarely see. A smirk, devilish, menacing…. Delectable as he nods and meets you with a deep kiss, electrifying every inch of your body.

You were always a know-it-all and you'd been right once again: this was always the boy for you.

[dullgecko]

The Bad kids and they’re pets (minus Adaine cus we already know bout Boggy) (From most of the headcanons I’ve sent in)

(Riz and Roomba) (this is my favorite headcanon)

Riz and the Roomba’s relationship is complicated. It was a gift from Gorgug. At first he just ignored until it sucked up his tail and he had to kick it off of him. Then he kinda of just avoided it at all costs, if it was cleaning the area near his desk, he’s sitting on top of desk.

Then one day it got stuck underneath a book shelf and he made sure to keep an eye on it. He eventually found it a bit entertaining. He eventually started calling it little nicknames and looking for it when he got home. One day it fell down some stairs and he freaked out, called Gorgug and said something along the lines of- “GORGUG HE FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!!” - “Who?” - “GUKGAK JUNIOR- I MEAN THE ROMBA!!”

(Gorgug and Cloaca/Chloe)

Gorgug always loved birds when he was growing up. He liked watching them, listening to them. He even went through the effort as a kid to learn the different species he had living in the tree. Unfortunately birds are fragile, one day Gorgug saw one had died out in front of the tree and he literally went bawling to his parents asking them to heal it. Unfortunately they couldn’t. They had a little funeral and everything.

Ever since then Gorgug been so careful around birds, and as much as he wanted one, never said anything because he didn’t want to risk it. Cloaca was supposed to be his way of having a bird that he could rebuild if he broke it. Unfortunately, Cloaca “sucked.”

Gorgug wanted to rebuild her or start from scratch but didn’t have the heart. Eventually Cloaca started repeating other things and Gorgug decided to keep her around. Now she sleeps on a stand next to his bed and he’s trying to teach her what her actual name is and that she doesn’t suck.

(Fig and Baby)

Fig’s mom is a ranger, so she has a lot of experience with animals. Baxter was her equivalent to a childhood dog. Baby, however is not a dog, or an animal really. He’s just baby. Baby mainly stays in Hell unless Fig summons him, unintentionally usually. Fig kind of views him a pet of sorts, she’s tried to teach him things, like basic math (which failed) and basic reading (also failed).

Sometimes he’s just koala stuck to her leg or following her around. One time he called her mom and she didn’t correct him until he started saying it in front of people and she had to explain that she’s technically not his mom. This made him cry, ugly and hysterically.

(Fabian and Hangman)

After Fabian found out that the Hangman was a hell hound, he was ecstatic. He tried on multiple occasions to get Hangman to switch back into this form, and much to his disappointment, the bike refused. Fabian tried calling him a good boy, offering him treats, playing fetch.

Eventually hangman gave into his masters demand, and turned back. The hangman was a bit ashamed of this form, due to the many years of mistreatment from his master. After hearing this Fabian went all lot trying to heal the Hangman’s “Canine side”, toys, new bed, treats, he even gave him a collar with the sea caster emblem on it.

(Kristen and unnamed dog)

Kristen doesn’t have a pet currently, she did however have a really old childhood dog. She was an old Sun dog (fantasy golden retriever), she was incredibly elderly and yet would still follow after her wherever she went. Kristen adored her, in the middle of the night Kristen would go downstairs and lay on the old smelly dog bed with her.

She used to sit on the porch and wait for Kristen to come back from school. Kristen doesn’t really remember when she passed, all she knew was that day was the first day Helio talked to her.

AHHH THIS WAS SO LONG!! SORRY FOR THE DUMP BUT I LOVE THESE GUYS SO MUCH!!

These are so good I love them <3

Rizs roomba. Stick googly eyes on it and it activates his prey drive. He will perch and watch it like he's hunting and zone out for hours. He makes sure to clean the top of it occasionally (his office gets dusty because it isn't very well sealed) and keeps the sensors clear. He even put a little lip near the door so it won't escape and fall down the stairs again.

Chloe/Cloaca can't get totally rebuilt but he does upgrade her occasionally. Her feathers look a lot nicer and she's getting smarter but she still has the same basic frame. She's Gorgugs first pet though so he doesn't take her into battle because he's sentimental like that.

Baby is more of a menace than a pet but Fig still loves him. Sometimes interacting with him does require an extra headache tablet though.

Hangman will pout and sulk about it but will usually revert to dog-mode when asked. He is currently learning the joys of head scratches and belly rubs (also the goblin seems to be quite intimidated by this form. Hangman managed to chase the hissing menace up a tree once just by barking and remembering it makes him happy).

Kristen still finds herself wishing she had a pet but feels like she's not responsible enough to care for one right now. She gets a quoki pet to fill the void instead because it doesn't matter if she forgets to feed it occasionally.

[agust-june]

Let's talk about KIM DOYOUNG...

I just came here to say if I CATCH yall defending Doyoung out here it's blocked on fucking site. I need yall Ncitzens and Kpop stans to STAND THE FUCK UP.

Out here posting pictures of ugly ass snowmen with MCDONALDS BS. GFTOFH. I saw this yesterday but Koreaboo pissed me off and these tweets of these fucking weirdos made me mad. So imma talk about it here.

Imma post screen shots of tweets and for those of you that are clearly not assholes or not delusional, let's point and laugh.

Fuck the first tweet bc though he is not supposed to be making political statement. That's what he's doing. And I will drop that man like a trash bag into the dumpster. The SECOND TWEET FUCK KIM DOYOUNG'S FEELINGS. Fuck him what about the feelings of the Palestinian fans that he has? What about the people you are actively dying from bombs? starvation? Dehydration? What about them? Out here actively making SNOW MEN using McDonald's shit FUCK HIM. AND FUCK YOU TOO WEIRD ASS BITCH.

The first tweet here. It's not about his family or friends. Doyoung is in the public posting pictures of McDonald's snowmen. He's fucking weird. And if we find out about his family and Friends they can get the smoke too. They ain't special. The last tweet on the bottom...yall spend too much online into kpop. I need people to be educated and up-to-date in the world bc what do you mean does that country exists??? I need people to WAKE UP GO TO FUCKING SCHOOL OR GET HOBBIES OUTSIDE OF KPOP PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

We knew SM wasn't shit. We knew. Doyoung, I am not shocked he's in SM. I like to give people chances but once you fuck up you fuck up. And THIS??? Oh baby you lucky SM needs you for they check which is why I will not be supporting Doyoung and I will give you the Wendy treatment bye bitch.

Hell isn't hot enough. That's all imma say.

On that note, I want to add that as a K-pop fan and Ncitizen, I am greatly disappointed, but I am not surprised. I had a FEELING someone in NCT was gonna do this bs. For once, I was hoping to be proven wrong. But that hoes to show you... we don't know these groups. He isn't the only one supporting these companies. Other idols are, too.

Here's some links to other idols

I also want to note that I will be taking my Doyoung post down even though it had Johnny in it. I'm clutching my pearls like a southern white woman and leaving. I can't get rid of the merch I bought, especially my DoJaeJung albums, but I won't be buying anymore. I understand some of these idols are under contract. For example, New Jeans they have a contract with Coca-Cola, and they just had a meal with McDonald's. That I completely understand. But ACTIVELY spending money to McDonald's and Starbucks and posting it!?!? Nah, you gotta go. Idc who you are. I don't care you have godly teir vocals you're done. It's not that hard to TRY to do something good. I am actively avoiding Starbucks, McDonald's, actively staying up to date on what's going on in the world. It's not just Palestine. It's Congo. Sudan. Yemen. If I can do all of that work a job. Go to school. Watch One Piece (an anime that actively talks about corrupt governments, genocide, war, propaganda, etc). Kim fucking Doyoung and other kpop idols can do it too. They just don't care and want to keep rolling their checks (he probably need to with that pocket change he probably getting). I AM BEGGING yall K-pop stans who still don't get it to STAND UP. Get a life. Read a fucking book. Because yall look dumb as hell, and I'm sorry, but my EGO MY PRIDE will not allow me to be dumb and continue to turn a blind eye when I know people are dying in a genocide. And for those of you saying "well just educate the idol." Baby, there's a reason why college is for adults, and it's not a mandatory if grown adults want to make the choice to learn they'll do it. These idols are GROWN it's not my job to educate adults who are older than me, and it shouldn't be your job either, especially FOR FREE.

I hope yall have a good day today, and I hope yall stay safe out there!

[not-a-big-slay]

birthday

John Wick x platonic!fem!reader

summary: while watching TV, you go on a rant about the absurdity of birthday gifts...

warnings: fluff, father-daughter relationship, established platonic relationship, horrible ahh parents, very tooth rotting, hopefully not ooc, trauma...

a/n: this platform has a lot of daddy john, but not much of dad john and that needs to change...this shit long as hell though, hope you enjoy it :)) also kudos to whoever finds the se7en reference

The hum of the microwave, heating up his food from the previous evening, rushed across the room and slowly mixed with dimmed voices of the television. The sun has already set and the remainings of its light shined into the room through red clouds.

John patiently waited for the beep, approving that he can eat his meal. It went unheard as you exclaimed from the living room, silencing it. "That's ridiculous." John looked over, but he could barely see the reason for your sudden speaking. His hands retrieved the plate from the microwave and he finally joined you on the couch. "These folks got their 16 year old daughter a car. A car, John." you widened your eyes at the man when ending your statement while said person just moved his eyes from you and the screen, trying to understand your reasoning.

You noticed his confusion and helped his mind get rid of it: "I mean, why? Like how is 16th birthday important? It's not like it's a big milestone. I'd understand 15 maybe, but 16? It's such an.. unsatisfying number, ugly even and not important." John seemed to get your thought, so you sinked back into the couch. "You get a license at 16." reasoned the assasin, catching your attention immediately. You looked over to him, furrowed eyebrows sending the signal of disagreement. "Which is bullshit, by the way, kids shouldn't be on the road." you stated before continuing, "But they got her a brand new car, she doesn't need all that, they could have given her like their old one or just let her share theirs, she is 16 how often will she drive that thing." while talking you have made so many hand movements that John needed to sit further away, worrying you might smack him.

The television broadcasted some reality show about spoiled kids from non-rich families. Neither of you really payed attention, but it served as a good backround while doing other tasks. That is until you got interested in its bizarreness. Parents, that previously stated they each had to find 2 jobs to keep their kids in school, bought their youngest daughter a new car. It was even one of the newest models as John noticed. They have said they would do anything for their kids and that birthdays were always so important in their family. That pissed you off, apparently.

“I know this comes from a place where no love was showed, but still, too much..”

John knew about your past, you knew about his too. You were just a kid when he first met you, both of you pursuing a man with a contract on his head. You have made a good competition and teamed up with the Boogeyman after many failures to kill him. After going through a near-death experience together, the two of you became a good friends and John slowly made plans to introduce you to Helen. He didn't plan on the introduction being at the funeral. His abandoned feelings of protection that were, until that day, stored for his wife poured into the other closest person to him and you gladly accepted them and even returned yours.

To say John was relieved when you obliged him with the refuge he sought after being marked excommunicado would be an understatment. Though he wasn't enterily thrilled after you insisted on fighting for him, you were the reason he could even have this absurd conversation in the first place. Being free could never feel so good without you.

"Like what did you get for your 16th birthday?" your voice pulled him out of the waters of his mind, the young eyes tracing his. He soon found his gaze interested in the empty plate on the table and with a sigh he reached for it and started to get up. You almost accepted he wouldn't answer, but his mouth let out the answer before you could: "A gun and a victim. Just like on any other day." John disappeared into the kitchen, but your loud "Damn." found it's way into his ears anyway and uplifted the corners of his mouth. Ruska Roma didn't care about these sorts of things. For them birthdays were just for the books and to track their age, no party, no gifts. The only gift he got from them was the cross, a symbol and a reminder he belongs. His first birthday party was with Helen and it was unusual to say the least.

You said sorry as he came back to the living room and John could see the regret and discomfort on your face. You got too talktive that you forgot this fact. The man came to your rescue and quickly varied the discussion. "What about you?" he asked as he sat down, petting Dog as he filled out the space between you two. Your mind digged deep to find the answer, John assumed from your scrunched face. At last, you shrugged: "I don't know. Money? Some candy too, I guess..." The voices from the television flowed in the house, but neither of you could hear them, too invested in whatever you started. The Boogeyman raised his eyebrows at you and you narrowed them in response, confused.

"That's much worse." he scoffed.

"Worse than having to kill a person?"

"Yes."

Your mind fully froze, not able to function properly. John internally laughed at your expression, but decided to not torment you any longer. "Parents giving money to their child is just sad. Money as a gift basically says the person doesn't know or care about your interest, so they give you money to make up for it." he started to explain, "Now, you can get some dollars from your other relatives like grandparents, counsins, aunts and uncles, because you don't see them everyday, they are allowed to not know what you like. But parents? People that live with you and provide for you should be at least familiar with it.."

He left you speechless, that he knew. Your mouth was slightly opened when he finished his monologue and slammed shut when you seemed to realize. "Well," you began once every word John shot your way striked you, "thanks for the additional reason to hate my fam more." You brought out a smile, but John's fell a little when he heard that. While not knowing him well yet, you told him you were an orphan, which wasn't surprising. Everyone in this deadly industry had no chance to have a normal, healthy and loving family. At least not that he knew of. What did shock him was when you admitted to lying after the funeral. Yet you wished to be an orphan, you had the bad luck to be born in a cruel home. Mother, a guilt-tripping monster with a victim mentality, and a father, anger-issued fanatic that tried to shape his children into his made-up idea of them. You moved out as a 17 year old and to at least finish high school, bowed to the High Table. You never had a stable home, John changed that. He offered you a place to stay once he was free again, he wanted you close to protect you, but also knew you could help with his old loneliness that never seemed to leave him. He never told you how much of a help you actually were.

John focused on the present moment again when you said: "I-I still can't see how can it be worse than a murder. At least I didn't work for money and got them for being born." Dog got up and let out a little bark. A sign for hunger, as you both understood. It got dark already and you gladly followed the dog's steps into the kitchen, John already in the lead.

"Ruska Roma at least didn't hide their uninterest, I knew what not to expect." he argued back as he reached for the dog pellets. Dog started eating before John finished filling up the bowl. That made you smile as well as hungry. John, as if almost sensing it, grabbed a plate and started to heat up the rest of the food. The familiar humming sound greeted the room again.

"Ah well, let’s just agree we both got worse gifts than a car and move on." you streched your hand out while the other rested on the counter-top of the island. John replicated your smile and shook your hand. The silence following right after sealed the agreement and the microwave dinged as in celebration. You walked across the island to take your food, knowing that John will be faster. "Birthdays are horrible anyway, I don't need to know I'm one year closer to death." you thought out-loud as the man handed you your plate. The food looked delicious. John always rather kept away from the kitchen, Helen was a great cook and even when he tried to make a meal, it ended in disaster. Once you moved in though, his guardian angels granted him the luck of finding an old recepe book his wife used. This was one of the easiest, but the quantity didn't define the quality.

"Would you rather not know how old you are?" John smiled and his eyebrows settled atop when you nodded. "Yep, I'd measure it in holidays." you joked, grabbing the cutlery, "In fact, I think 6th September should be erased from the existence. It's not an important day, no one needs it and it certainly doesn't bring any good." John watched you take the food to the table and changing the channel on the screen on the way, not realizing the crucial piece of information you just revealed non-chalantely. He didn't know your birthday, he just knew you were 18 when you met him, which was apparently 6 years ago. It was before he even engaged to Helen. He also understood you were old enough to drink once you downed 3 shots as if they were filled with tap water when you both tried to figure out how could John get out of his mess. Suddenly, a calender on the wall across him whispered his name.

Today was August 3rd.

.....................

Heavy sigh and the car door were last things he heard before feeling the dryness of his car. The raindrops that couldn't reach him before closing the vehicle were banging on the roof out of anger. John carefully placed the box on his passenger seat. He did everything he could to shield it from this afternoon weather, but some water managed to force itself through his coat, not enough to do a lot of damage fortunately. His eyes didn't peel away from it, John still wagered in his mind if it's a good idea. You weren't used to gifts from your real family, why should you accept his?

Without looking away, his fingers slipped the keys into ignition and his other hand played on the wheel nervously. He didn't take the receipt, he cannot return it. But he could survive the loss of money if this gift meant destruction of your bond. He wouldn't survive that. What if it's too far, you never cared for birthdays. For every September he has known you, nothing even remotely signaled him you might be different on the sixth day. You just wanted to forget you were ever born and he would set your mind back to the start with this reminder.

His logical sense slapped these thoughts away. You were a good kid, if you hated it you would tell him politely and be honest with him. And he knew you would keep it just for the sentiment you love so much. John turned the keys sideways and started following the mentally written route home, trying to keep his gaze from trailing to the passenger seat every now and then.

Even after parking in the garage and opening the passenger's door did he avoid the box's way. First he thought he could just close his eyes and take the box in his arms blindly, though overcame it and finally made contact with the white cardboard. A box is making him insane, brilliant. John grabbed the rest of his things and welcomed the hot air rushing to him as he opened the door inside. Dog barked at his owner as if he tried to warn John before rushing to him excitedly. The house was quiet and dim from the rain protecting the room of any light. You didn't bother turning on the lights and John knew you wouldn't. You hated the yellow glow it casted and how bright they were, natural lightning wasn't forcing itself into your view.

You came around the corner as the man got up from petting the good boy. He watched you ignore him, listening to music in one ear while the other earphone swished on your shoulder with every movement made. It was broken for a while now, but no one could be surprised. In the long time you've had them, you managed to step on them, close them in between the car doors and let the dog chew on one of the pods, which was the breaking point, John assumed. The rest worked fine, the quality still haunted him.

You turned around and caught a glimpse of him, immediately taking out the music and greeting him. He smiled in response while you already had your interest on the box, laying next to him. "What's in the box, Somerset?" you got close to it, but John was faster and picked it up quickly. Your eyebrows must have been suspicious of that act the way they connected.

"It's-uhh-it's-" the room picked up the heat as John's nerves shaked anxiously. He never had a problem with creating a lie on the spot, but your pose decorated with crossed arms on the chest somehow intimidated him. He was so sure you would be able to see throught the paper lid any minute now, so he tried to hurry his thinking up. "It's just some things for the car." he waved it off, leaving you slowly nodding in understandment, deciding not to ask any questions that you definitely had. John adored your capability of minding your own business, he more adored the fact you have learned it from him. You were very curious about everything when he met you, trying to know everyone around you to the last bit of detail. He was very strict about his personal life, so he introduced you to the concept of privacy through a lot of no's and death stares. Even now, when you two could be more than open with each other, you still didn't ask, nor cared.

"Want help?"

"No, I'll just take it to the basement."

"Alright." you said before putting in the earbud again and walking to the kitchen. John sighed heavily, hoping the nerves would settle down, and made his way to the basement. He hid it under a white dirty cloth, afraid it will disgrace the gift and left. Now the only thing left was to make sure you won't visit the basement for 2 days. 2 days, he realized. So, he is really doing it, huh? John froze thinking about the worst things that you could say or do as a reaction on his idea, the worst being you kill him, but that was unlikely, he'd done the math. Your humming got picked up by his left ear as he realized that the only moment to back up was in the car. He didn't, he missed it. The backdoor is closed and the only way to move is forward.

John checked the time. 6pm.

September 4th.

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

You were relieved that the store had air conditioning, because one more second in the outside heat and you would collapse. Your hands were trying their best at waving cold air on your head and chest, yet nothing could stop the sweat of going down your skin. Even though the sun has already set, the consequences of its hot presence still appeared in these late hours. You wanted to stop for second and cool off, but remembered you're supposed to get only one thing.

Salt.

It baffled you, why is it so important to get salt right now and not tomorrow as you were already getting ready to shower and to relax in bed when John asked you to get it. You weren't very happy about it, but you didn't feel like refusing him either. That man held a lot of respect from you and you never wished to upset him. Not that he would do anything bad to you, you just rarely told him no. Not sure where the need to please people came from, you were still happy it only applied to him. He deserved it after what he has done for you.

The store was as empty as its freshly baked pastry section. While strolling through, you only saw a few workers and some costumers hunting for evening snacks, all of them visibily tired. Your footsteps echoed in the big space, you wondered if they could be heard on the other side of the store. You thought about John's weird request, trying to justify it with a reason. None came to mind. Maybe he had a girl over, but you considered that unlikely. He clearly wasn't yet over Helen- reasonably so. Or he needed some alone time, you could admit being too annoying or too much for a quiet man like John, no judging.

The salt was hiding in a tricky spot, but luckily, thanks to your noticing abilities, you found it rather quickly and headed to the checkout. If the second reason was correct, you would be fine with sleeping somewhere else to not disturb his peace, but since you were already worn out and ready for the comfortable bed, you settled on taking the long way home, letting him enjoy at least the extra 10 minutes.

You knocked before entering, something you do automatically without waiting for a response. You kicked off your shoes, balancing your weight and the pouch of salt on one leg, and yelled out "I'm back." into the dark. The dark, you realized. Why were the lights off? The stars already began to shine when you were halfway home, so it was weird if John just forgot to turn them on. He wasn't the forgetful type.

"Hello?" you called out again, more quietly though, suspicion already growing deep in your stomach. Hearing the eery silence made you drop the salt and reach for a gun taped on the bottom of a dressing cabinet. Some comfort was brought by the click announcing safety is off, but it got lost in your high anxiety once you started walking deeper in the house, back steadily on the wall. The worst case scenarios accompanied you while every sense focused on the dark living room you happened to be in. You spinned around, walking backwards to the kitchen, your mind challenging the intruder to show themselves. Suddenly, the door creaked behind you and it was enough for you to turn around rapidly and caress the trigger.

After taking in the view in front of you, you finally exhaled and lowered your gun, whispering the lord's name in relief. There stood John, glowing in candle lights, distressed by your unexpected presence and, of course, by the barrel of a gun. You didn't notice the kind of candles. Your palm held your forehead in order to stop its stressful spinning and your brain desperately trying to convince your heart to calm down, you were too busy to recognize it.

Lights above you brightened your eyelids and you felt a pair of hands on your biceps. "What's wrong, what is it." John asked quietly, scared someone followed you home or has already done something horrible to you. You shook your head before sighing heavily, getting the last bit of shock out of your body.

"Shit, you scared the fuck out of me, John." Irritation attacked your tone as you leaned forward on the counter. Your mind only had pictures of the man dead on the floor with a bullet wound he gained from you. The bullet was so close to running out the gun and for what? For a cake?

Wait a minute.

Your head lifted up, eyes being instantly mesmerized by the flow of little fires on an icy surface. A cake. John has baked a cake. And you almost shot him for it. Your gaze flickered next to you. He was nervous, only you couldn't tell if it was from the near death experience from his own friend or from the possibility of you asking about the mysterious unexpected dessert. You made the latter come true.

"What is this?" you nodded to the cake, studying every move John made as though it would explain it for him. He took a deep breath before taking your own away: "It's for you. Happy birthday." The glow of the candles brought out your widened eyes, desperately trying to find a sign of a cruel joke on John's features. They failed to do so of course, you have never seen the man so serious.

It's been a while since you heard those words. You forgot how they hugged your heart and sugared your ears. You used to whisper them to yourself sarcastically with a harsh undertone when there was no one to trust or turn to. You've stopped though as it was cringe and overly depressing. You convinced your mind birthdays were for nothing, they give you nothing and are only important for knowing your age, nothing special. They made everyone emotional over a number of years and as long as you had no one, it was pointless in making it a big thing. It couldn't be denied John was your safe space, you would place your whole life into his hands and would be sure he'd keep it more protected than the High Table could ever be, you just never thought of bringing the concept back.

Amazed by the yellow waves again, you held your breath: "Are you serious?" John smiled a little as he answered: "Yeah. Now blow 'em out." You did as you were told, taking a deep breath and blowing it forcefully on the candles. They flickered and disappeared in the thin air. It was the first time in your life you got them all on the first try. Tears of forbidden nostalgia became impossible to hold in and you eventually let them go slowly from the prison of your eyes. When you made eye contact with John.

Without hesitation you close the space between you two and digged your face in the crook of his neck as your arms tightly wrapped his torso. His hands buried you in the feeling of safety and you felt shielded as they squeezed you into him. "Thank you." came out of you silently, only for John to hear. As a response, he took a step back to look at you. "You have no reason to thank me." his palm found its den on your neck as his eyes grew comfortable on yours.

You couldn't help but wonder if this is the way others feel on their birthday when they are surrounded by people they love and care for, by people that love and care for them. Because if it is, a big part of your birthdays was stolen, you would love them if they felt like this, you would wait a whole year only for this feeling, this sense of family, this certainity you are loved and you matter.

All of that left momentarily when John's hands let you go. "No reason to thank me yet." he bent down and came back up with a white box in his hands. He gently placed it on the counter next to the cake. After you clearly didn't understand what is supposed to happen, he gladly gave you a hint. "Open it." he motioned his head to it and you obeyed, carefully touching the lid as if it was a bomb that would go off any second. It's not like it was unlikely to hide a bomb inside a similar-looking box. You pressed the cardboard with your fingers and lifted it up.

You gasped quietly in order to help your mind take in the brand new headphones that shined at you maybe more brightly than the candles. They were white, wireless, so no annoying wire to slow you down, they were also overhead, too big for Dog to chew on them. You felt John's eager gaze, waiting for you to pick them up, but you felt even your stunned look would bruise them. You didn't deserve this, none of it. The happiness that danced into you the moment you realized John remembered your special day now began to look like a well-known and hated naivety. This love and luxury didn't belong to someone like you, what were you thinking.

"This- this is-" you began to panic. What would happen if you accepted it, would the world explode from the connection of two things that could never work together? You doubted it, but who would wanna risk it. "I can't accept this." Suddenly all you wanted was to run from the cake and the gift, you now felt like the bomb that you tried so hard not to light, that was supposed to be in that box. John's figure stopped you from going anywhere. "Yes, you can." You rapidly shook your head from side to side, his words couldn't distract you from the harsh reality. You weren't worth all of this.

"You are good enough for all of this and more." his calm tone was confusing for your stressed state, but the demanding adittude of his got through your walls and made you listen. "Take it, you deserve it."

Your hand subconsiously touched your necklace and pressed one of the daisies on it. It belonged to his wife, you found it when his house was blown to pieces and gave it to him once he started the repairs. He insisted on you keeping it, though. You protested, it was a gift for the love of his life, you couldn't take something that serious. "Take it. You found it, you deserve it." he said back then. You never knew her, yet you wore her jewelry, her gift.

"She would adore you."

Your eyes snapped to John, noticing him looking at your neck with a sad smile on his face. You lowered your hand and trailed your eyes back on your birthday gift. Without thinking you reached for the headphones, picking them up. They were suprisingly light and very comfortable to touch. As you put them over your head, everything went quiet. You didn’t know that an already silent room could get even more deafened, but here you were, hearing absolutely nothing.

"No way." you know you said, even though you couldn't hear it. John's smile got wider as you looked around in awe, it seemed like you were in a complete different place, not a boring kitchen. After taking them off, you sighed overwhelmedely, you could only imagine how beautiful the sound may be. "So?" John was interested, still a bit on the edge if the gift is good or not and only you could push him from it. However the only thing you did was throwing yourself around his neck, making him lose his balance momenteraly.

Before he could hug you properly, you already pulled away. "Now can I thank you?" you joked, but you could never make up for this. He had done all of this for you, that wasn't something you'd brush off with only two words. They lost meaning next to John's actions. "Yeah, now you can." was all you needed to hear to press into him again. John rested his head on top of yours, but not before kissing your hair and stroking your back.

You felt Dog nuzzling up against your legs and you looked down to see his happy, carefree face. He definitely woke up just no. You laughed and only noticed you were crying when tears fell into the corners of your mouth. You quickly wiped them away, turning away from John so he couldn't see. The man had the same problem though, also showing you his back while complaining silently about the dust getting into his eyes.

Once you both wiped your tears, you turned back around and laughed a little. This is all you needed. No assasin had this as far as you knew. Why two of the most deadliest people got visited by the biggest luck this world had in store. You looked back at Dog, his face excited for whatever you'd do. You sighed and rememebered the oh so good-looking desert on the kitchen counter.

"Want some cake?"

[gold-rhine]

In an ideal universe where your wish fulfillment came true... any particular characters (including npcs) you'd like Kaeya to interact with when he gets there?

by wish fulfillment i assume you mean "kaeya moves to sumeru". to proper answer, i need to explain my pet crack theory which is Kaeya and Candace are related. buckle up babes

ok, so, we know chlothar is one of kaeya's ancestors. look at this pasty ugly dude. he did NOT produce the hottest man in the game by in-breeding with other pasty khaenriah nobles from same bloodlines. and we know it had to be same bloodline or kid gets hilichurled.

where are kaeya's hot genetics are coming from??? the darker skin?? blue eyes, dark blue hair?? like they could've at least give him the same brown skin tone to match, but no. and genshin matches relatives OBSESSIVELY. hot genetics HAVE to come from somewhere.

sumeru is near khaenriah. deshret's civilization is connected to khaenriah in canon, we know for a fact some of the survivors became part of khaenriah. deshret's civilization was also highly advanced AND fucked with the abyss. it's all not crack, thats just stating canon facts. so like it doesn't seem to me as a stretch to guess that the khaenriah's noble bloodline originated from Deshret. like, a lot of ppl connected to the desert have rhombs in their pupils, which we know is the main visible sign of this bloodline. like, thats not precisely khaenriah diamonds, but its fucking close, ok?

and Candace is canonically a direct descendent of Deshret himself. Brown skin - check, blue eye color - check, dark midnight blue hair - check, hotness - hell yeah check.

if you catch my drift, i think khaenriah's main noble bloodline, the one that is not hilichurled, hailed from deshret. their only choice to get a normal, non-cursed kid was to find the descendants of the same bloodline who did not leave desert for khaenriah and so were not cursed, and it's Candace's family. booom babyy

so in ideal world, Candace and Kaeya realize they're distant cousins bc she's like Alberich? My aunt married some shady dude named Alberich, was that your dad? like all kaeya always wanted was to belong, and here he finally will have family that is not trying to use him OR repressed anger issue catholics. and nahida let even scara to redeem after he tried to murder her. kaeya could finally come clean and just live as himself.

and he would be so needed too, like the desert ppl are in turmoil process of integrating with sumeru, criminals are overrunning aaru village. and who keeps treasure hoarders in mond in check with nothing but three dumb sergeants and a smile? kaeya would sort that shit out in a month. seriously, i had to go to liyue to farm treasure hoarders, there are no roaming mobs of them in mond. kaeya would also be the best liason to akademiya, growing up with nobility and being used to political games as mond's spymaster.

after this premise, there is literally not a single character in sumeru it would not be fun to see kaeya interacting with. he and dehya are immediately besties, they met on a shopping trip where candace was helping him choose his new skin outfit, and this same evening drunk dehya is princess carrying him out of tavern. he can amplify cyno's horrible puns into a weapon of mass destruction and tighnari can't even hate him, bc he also made ppl stop eating poisonous mushrooms by spreading rumors that if you eat too much of them, their spores will grow inside of and mindcontrol you. its absolute bullshit, but it worked, goddamit. kaeya could solve kaveh and alhaitham's communication problems in one evening at a bar, but he wouldn't, bc he's a little shit and he thinks its entertaining to watch and he's curious how long its gonna take them by themselves, but he would give them trollish little nudges. also, in nilou's tropue he would finally have a proper bohemian scene to exercise his flair for dramatics and inspire several epic poems by being a heartbreaker.

tldr little desert village has neither rich nobility nor grand destiny he's supposed to fulfill, but it has ppl who will accept and appreciate him, and i think realizing that he doesn't have to choose between a coinflip of bad and awful and learning to live for himself instead is one of kaeya's arcs best possible resolutions

[genericpuff]

I've come to the stunning realization-

-that Lore Olympus is basically to the webtoons industry what Youtube Kids is to Youtube.

And I'm not talking about the general "Youtube Kids" label, I'm talking about those videos - Elsagate, Johny Johny, Cocomelon, Mickey Mouse tattooing Spongebob or whatever other weird example you can think of - which are explicitly designed to game the algorithm, turn views into money, and most of all, gain and keep the attention of the one demographic that won't question what they're consuming - children.

!!!!THIS POST HAS FAST PASS SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

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I mean, this is undoubtedly just a tinfoil hat theory, but think about it:

Bright oversaturated colors that are attention-grabbing.

Meme faces and 'lol rAnDoM' humor even when it doesn't suit the situation at all.

Art that's all around ugly and cheap on a technical level but still stands out due to its color design and prioritized advertising.

Vapid surface level scene-to-scene writing that doesn't connect or have any meaning in any coherent way.

One-dimensional projection characters who are easy to manipulate and sway for audience sympathy or anger even if those opinions change on a dime based on actions in the moment.

Cliffhangers that are less like true cliffhangers and more like clickbait. Episodes nowadays tend to be filled with drawn out plotlines, vague hints that can be applied to just about any school of thought, and non-sequitur memes to fill the time until they can hook the reader with another cliffhanger to keep them coming back next week.

Coin prices have gone up but episode length, substance, and quality have noticeably gone down. Even if they reach the same panel count they usually have, dialogue is minimal and pacing is brutally inconsistent to the point that plot progression is often non-existent.

Banner ads that run constantly, often in the first or second (or both) slots, with push notifications and pop-up ads also becoming more frequent whether you're subscribed to the comic or not.

And underneath ALL of that, we've got blatant objectifying and sexualization of female characters regardless of context, misogyny that claims to be progressive, racist undertones, borderline fetish content that constantly toes the Terms of Services line, normalization of problematic/toxic relationship dynamics, a creator who's more interested in 'getting back' at critics than writing an actual story, and underlying messaging both from the characters' and the creator's behavior that encourage witch-hunting, rejection of accountability, and blind devotion.

All this is essentially why I've given up consuming LO entirely, beyond just on a critical level as of late. There was a time long ago when I stuck around in the hopes it was going to get better, that maybe it was just going through a "rough patch" as some stories do. After that I stuck around because I wanted to see how it could possibly pull off its ending. And then after that, I simply stuck around for the laughs and community banter. But now I don't even find it funny anymore, the punchline of how bad it is has gotten incredibly old. And at this rate, as much as we'd like to believe it's going to end in its third season as it's been mentioned in the past, we also were told it was going to end between 100-200 episodes prior to that - the way it's going, I can't even stick around "for the ending" because LO is going to be around for as long as WT tries to milk it, despite it no longer having a heartbeat.

As much as I've loved talking shit about this comic and it's undoubtedly the main reason so many of you followed me here in the first place, I'm not going to lock myself in some kind of purgatory hell just to be proven what I already know is going to happen - either the comic continues on forever, doomed to be a lifeless mascot for the zombie corporation that is WT, or RS eats shit while trying to stick the landing with a plane that has no functional parts.

There's a quote from Caddicarus that I couldn't help but think of as I typed this up, from his nearly-decade-old review of Dalmations 3 (oh god, it's nearly been a decade since that video came out what the actual fuck-)

"And this is where I officially lost all fucking care. I realized it wasn't going to end anytime soon. It's one of those rare instances where the novelty of how awful everything is actually gets really tiresome and unfunny." - Caddicarus

[seramilla]

Velvette is worried that she won't be a good mom

The first time Kiki suggested to Velvette she might be pregnant, Vevlette hadn't believed her. Velvette hadn't been feeling sick, or having any weird cravings, and nothing about her body feels any different, other than the fact that she wants to be held all the fucking time. Which isn't that strange, if she thinks about it; she's always been cuddly with Clara and Kiki, and only them.

Except she gets even crankier than usual when Clara can't hold her because she has to leave for work. Velvette's been taking more and more personal days off, to stay home with Kiki, who is usually only on shift a few nights a week. Kiki has also been a lot more accomodating to Velvette lately...maybe that should have been the first sign something more is going on.

She doesn't believe Kiki the second, third, or fourth time she tells her she's pregnant, either. But the fifth time, when Velvette demands to be held, and even Kiki is getting frustrated, because she has a tour starting the next day, Kiki forces her to believe it.

Kiki is tired of treating Velvette with kid gloves. Velvette is getting past the point of no return; she's going to start showing soon, and she needs to acknowledge the truth.

"There's no maybe about it anymore, Vel," Kiki says, point-blank, not trying to skirt around the truth anymore. "I can smell it, sense it, feel it all over you. You're like an oven on fire to my succubus senses. You have a baby cooking in there! Probably more than one!"

"But that's fucking impossible!" Velvette shouts, stomping her foot like a god-damned child. She doesn't mean to be emotional -- but this is quite literally the scariest fucking thing she's ever been told. And she's right -- it shouldn't be possible! Not for mortal souls.

"Well, apparently it is, because you are!"

"Don't say that!" Velvette squeaks, like she's about to cry. "How am I supposed to react to something like this, Kiki? How am I supposed to tell Clara? Whose it it, anyway?"

"All of us...somehow," Kiki says, as if that explains anything. "You're in Hell, sweetie. Stranger things have happened with lust magic."

Velvette collapses on the couch in the guest room. She flings herself across the leather cushions, and buries her face in the pillows. She screams into the fabric, catches her breath, and then screams again, at the top of her lungs.

"How?!" Velvette screams. "How did this fucking happen?!"

"Maybe you're more receptive to it, than most," Kiki says, but that still answers zero of Velvette's questions.

"What am I gonna do, Keek?" Velvette asks, tears and snot starting to form inside her face. Satan, she hates crying. It makes her look so weak and ugly. Kiki senses her distress, and moves onto the couch, until Velvette is in her lap. "I can't be a fucking mom. I don't even fucking like kids!"

"Well," Kiki says, slowly, contemplatively, "you could always have an ab--"

"Don't even say that word to me," Velvette responds abruptly, shutting Kiki down. "Maybe if it was some fucking loser's baby. But there is no way I would ever kill off any part of you and Clara, even if it's a little crotch goblin inside me. Out of the fucking question."

"Well," Kiki says, out of ideas, "then you have no other choice but to...keep it? Them?"

Velvette rolls over in her lap. She buries her face so deep in Kiki's neck, she is practically melding to the succubus' skin.

"I'm scared, Keek," Velvette says again, to emphasize it, because she really fucking is. "I don't know the first thing about this shit."

"First thing to do is tell Clara," Kiki says, threading her fingers through Velvette's loose, curly locks. She loves it so much when Velvette wears her hair down. Literally and figuratively. "Then we should probably tell Carmilla...get her advice."

That gets a groan out of Velvette, one that is both long and extremely pained in its intensity. "Nooooo.....not heeerrrrrr."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"....No."

"Didn't think so. Let's go break the news to Clara. Deal with that mess. Then let's go talk to dear ol' 'Mom'."

[poisonedspider]

So, a lot of these I have already said, but since @poisonedxbeauty posted one and then we both talked about it, I'm doing a headcanon post as well. Some of this are big duh and basically accepted as fanon, so I wasn't going to originally post about them, butttttt.

Angel Dust (and we both agree on this so I promise I'm not copying them, but it's also canon per Voxtagram soooo) does not only wear super femme clothes, or super revealing clothes. He's definitely a crop top and shorts guy, or a low cut cozy shirt guy, but he isn't always dressed intentionally provocative. When he's alone in his room, or he is getting ready for a show, this is the most comfortable and cozy fucker ever. He likes to relax sometimes after wearing all those corsets and tight dresses.

Angel hates his feet. This is canon, and very apparent with my Angel (the foot fetish thing had him reeling the other day). To the point that even during sex, he either keeps his shoes on (which is LITERALLY seen in Poison), or he will wear thigh high stockings. Tbh, they aren't even ugly - he's got cute little jumping spider feet. But he does NOT like them and will NOT let people touch them. If you get to, that means he has a very deep connection with you.

Angel's gold tooth and mismatched eyes are because of his contract with Valentino. Which also means that Travis is contracted with Val. Which is interesting. Was he just like...this fucker isn't hot enough so he can just be the script writer?

By the way, Angel thinks Travis is a horrible script writer. His talent as an actor is wasted on that bullshit.

Which goes into, yeah, he 'stands up for it' when Husk is a 'porn critic.' It isn't because of the fact that he thinks the writing is good, or even that the porn itself is good. It's because Angel is proud of his acting abilities, and that damn porno won him a Sex-x-xi Award. It showed that he was CAPABLE at something, to the point that he won over the other biggest porn star in Hell. That showed that he CAN act and that he's damn GOOD at it and he's proud of that. And so having that shot down hurts like a bitch.

He loves polaroids. Clearly, since they're covering his door. He definitely has one at all times and likes to document his life and the fact that now he has one. For once. That he's proud of.

Angel Dust is better at guns than Valentino (it probably helps that Val is canonically pretty fucking blind). He definitely taught Valentino a lot of what he knows about his way around a gun, which he obviously regrets now with Val's attitude. But Angel is a great shot. He doesn't miss.

Angel likes to tap into his mobster roots a lot (I mean look how that fucker is dressed in the finale.) He also has photos on Voxtagram of him in his mobster outfit, and it's in the prequel comic so. He likes to be a mobster, as long as he is free to make his own choices - which he wasn't under his father.

Speaking of his father, his entire family was incredibly homophobic so he couldn't really express himself. This was what really pushed Anthony into the drug lifestyle. He needed to get out and numb himself from it all, as well as try to live his own life (it's why he mentions in Loser Baby that drugs/clubbing is his escape.) The drug overdose was absolutely accidental, but I imagine he got into it with either his brother or father a bit too hard that day and just pushed himself too far.

In reference to all of that, Angel loves his lifestyle. I know he doesn't like his job and he talks about how much he hates everything, but pre-Valentino, he loved it. That was what led Val to find him in the first place and be able to corrupt him. He loves doing drugs. He loves partying. He loves sex. Even if his contract with Val is broken, that isn't going to change (well, maybe the drugs since y'know he's trying to get redeemed but....he ain't giving up sex).

Speaking of contract, I didn't know this was canon apparently but it breaks my heart to think about so I'm making it a HC - Angel hasn't been redeemed yet because his soul isn't his to be redeemed. It's owned by someone else, so until his soul is released back to him, all of this is futile. Unless there is some divine intervention.

I've mentioned this before but just adding it to my long list, Angel Dust tastes like cotton candy (yes sexually you cowards). He's also intersex, but definitely 100% identifies as a cisgender man. He just has 'both' genitalia, which y'know, makes him really great in the porn industry.

Angel is Hell's hottest porn star in hundreds of years. I know Val obviously did porn (look at his damn posters haaaa) but even Valentino didn't get to that level of success. I think that's part of why Valentino knows he can't lose Angel, because so much rides (ha, punny, ha) on him.

I am just bouncing all of these off based on the previous comment. I could write an essay about Angel's love for Valentino, but yes, he does love Val. Like I was speaking with poisonedxbeauty earlier, it's all about the domestic violence cycle. Angel makes it CLEAR that Val only has control of him in the studio, so if Valentino called him while at the hotel, HE COULD SAY NO. HE COULD. But he doesn't, because there's still love for him there that keeps bringing him back and trapped in the cycle. I do think, however, that when Angel stands up to Val in that club, it has a lot to do with Husk. Husk shows him what love is supposed to look like, like he is worthy of love, and deserves to be seen for who he is. That weakens the chain of the contract, because it gives Angel the courage to say no and not go back just because he thinks Val is the only one that will love him.

Angel likes jazz music. Alastor is shook. But as a mobster highly associated within the 1920s realm, he loved a good flashy gatsby party. He also loves Broadway, especially Cabaret and Chicago. He’d love to perform in a Broadway show one day, especially because he actually does have a very talented voice.

Speaking of, I hc that Angel was 33 when he died (which is so funny bc Hazbinned and I both do and we thought it was canon but nope it just is our little brains working).

His association with The Vees fascinates me and will continue to do so. He obviously lived in the penthouse for a long time, and still has his own room (I don't care what y'all say, that is absolutely Angel's room in Poison, not Val. I don't see Val as one to really do drag and there are too many damn wigs in that room). It's obvious that Vox hates his guts (jealous little prick), but I think Angel did his best to be helpful when he was around (as will be made in the next comment). He can actually tolerate Velvette, and would sometimes spend nights getting drunk and just talking fashion with her and trashing horrible fashion tastes.

Angel is a phenomenal cook, especially when it comes to Italian food. He probably cooked far too many meals for the Vees, the ungrateful bastards. But since he was living there, and wanted to prove that he was worth something, he would pay back in terms of acts of service like that (especially since he's used to only paying back in sex and Val was the only one interested in that).

His favorite drink is a White Chocolate Macchiato with strawberry drizzle and whipped cream. Fight me. When it comes to alcohol, yes he likes fruity drinks, but his favorite liquor is actually gin or absinthe (he’s a hard mobster from the twenties, he likes the hard shit).

After Cherri, I would say his ride or die is Vaggie. I hate how little kind interactions they have with each other, but even in It Starts with Sorry or the pilot alone, you can see their bond. I imagine they bond over being queer, and I just think that's kind of cute. Charlie would absolutely be next ofc. And Niffty is like a little sister to him that he just wants to defend to the death.

Speaking of friends, Angel is so clearly willing to sacrifice himself to protect his friends, which shows he isn't this selfish stuck-up persona that he puts on. He'd even risk his life for Alastor if needed, because this is his found family, the people that he loves more than anything, and he thinks their lives are worth more than his.

Molly and Angel had an incredibly close relationship due to being twins, but he would keep himself away from her more often than not because he didn't want to 'taint' her and pull her into all the mob boss stuff. There's a reason she's in Heaven, y'all, that little sweet bean. He misses her, but he doesn't talk about her much because it hurts too badly.

Angel was the first to die in his family. I said what I said.

More fact than head canon, but in case y’all didn’t know, Fat Nuggets is absolutely a drug reference. I am guessing he was named by Valentino, because I also imagine that Angel received his name from Valentino, tied into his drug addiction. Or maybe not fully received it from him, but was highly persuaded by him.

Angel is a bottom. No shock. But want to clarify that. He ain’t ever topping. Good luck. His favorite position is riding, he loves sucking dick, and he has almost every kink under the sun but especially impact play and breeding.  

Angel’s moans in the pornos are definitely fake and overexaggerated (duh). If he actually has sex with someone he loves, his pitch is much softer and wispier and even a little deeper. Anyone who’s slept with him and watches his porn will know that. And I think that’s a big reason why any of his partners (especially Husk) would be fine with his sex work. He knows it’s just a job, and Angel isn’t fully enjoying it, and only he gets to see the true side of Angel in passion. And it’s fucking beautiful. It’s also why Val keeps him.

Angel doesn’t have a car. Random fact. But that’s why he had to take a freaking taxi from Travis in the pilot. I imagine that’s one luxury Valentino never let him have, because it would make it so Angel could get away more often and much easier. And then he just…never got one.

Charlie paid for him to stay at the hotel at first, but he would have made the decision to go regardless of the money. He didn’t believe in the cause at first, but it was an excuse to move out of the penthouse and have some freedom from Val’s contract. It just so happens she caught him at a vulnerable time when Valentino had punished him to work the streets overnight and he was fucking fed up.

A lot of people think Angel is a germaphobe because of the gloves, but I say no way could he be with how many random sinners he’s slept with and the grungy places he hangs out. I think it’s because he thinks that anything that he touches will break. Notice the only place he doesn’t wear his gloves? In the studio. Because that’s already a broken environment and it can’t get worse. He doesn’t want to touch any of his friends and have things fall to ruins. Almost Rogue-ish from Xmen. He doesn’t actually have those powers, duh, but it’s the fear of cursing them with just his touch. If he takes off his gloves around you, he’s being incredibly vulnerable.

Speaking of powers, yes, I do believe that Angel can produce webs. He rarely does it of course because he thinks it’s kind of gross, but he definitely can. I was trying to think of how he would do this, and in my brain he just went that he can produce it from his spit and I was like….okay fam, guess we’re going with that canon then. Definitely giving Naruto vibes.

His favorite color is actually purple, not pink. Look at his room in the hotel. HE designed that room for himself. There’s purple all over that shit.

All his pink dots are representative of the hundreds of freckles he had when he was alive.

Despite his raunchy background, he is absolutely a hopeless romantic. He’s used to being thrust into the wild side of things, but he doesn’t even use porn to get off (why would he, when it’s what he does as a living). He’s much more aroused by the slow sensuality of things. Dances under the lights of Pentagram City. Candlelit dinners. Intimate massages. Making love. He likes a good fuck, hard and fast, but gentle love-making? It’s everything he's dreamed of.

Just talked about with my lovely Husk, because they were surprised that Angel’s robe isn’t some level of see through. My thought behind this is that he is already incredibly emotionally vulnerable in those positions, knowing he could set Val off at any minute (noticing he only wore it in Episode 4 as well, INCLUDING at the end of Poison), so he doesn’t want to be physically vulnerable as well. For once, he doesn’t want to be seen. He wants to just disappear so that he can’t get hurt anymore.

Angel Dust was baptized and raised Catholic (as is common in Italian families). He turned his back on God fairly quickly after witnessing all the death and torture that existed in the world. But then after going to Hell he was like…..oh shit, religion was actually correct in a lot of ways.

Angel speaks Italian as his native language. He specifically uses it in high emotional situations, such as when he is overly excited or incredibly angry or especially when he is incredibly horny. It basically happens when emotions are so high that he can’t think, therefore he doesn’t even realize he has fallen into his native tongue.

I’m sure I could come up with a thousand more, and I’m sure I’ve referenced more in my threads, but this is everything that came up in my brain for now that I wanted to vomit onto a page. So enjoy this random load of bullshit on my very random Angel take. Sorry for the weird numbering. Apparently there's no text limit as long as it isn't one long paragraph and the split just....numbered them like this. ;;

[lollytea]

Up until a month back I liked a guy. And I really liked him. But I found out he didn't like me back. I was really upset, but I didn't want to hold it against him, but then I found out he had a reputation of being a player (which, at our age of 14 is flirtatiously texting girls and then just. Ghosting them).

And I felt really upset. I began to question if he even saw me as a friend, and whether the way he texted me was even friendly. What if he secretly loathed me and was just doing this to get a kick out of it? What if he knew about my feelings and they were just a joke to him?

I wanted to cry, but I told my friends and my sister I was okay. But I wanted to scream. Its not my fault I was born ugly. It's not my fault my face makes me unlovable. And even though I wanted to distance myself from him I felt some sort of perverse pleasure every time he did something embarrassing in front of every one.) And that's when I think it hit me.

That's why I'm unlovable. I am unlovable because I'm a terrible person. My friends tried to comfort me saying that he's a shitty person who can't see my beauty/cuteness, but friends are obligated to say that. I wanted to believe them because they're all so beautiful, and they would never lie to me because they love me. But they deserve a better friend than me.

I want to cry because I want to experience having a whirlwind romance, and falling in love. I also know I'll probably never have that.

And AGH I feel so upset. Because all my life I've known I was ugly. But when this guy showed me attention, was nice to me, it made me feel special. Made me feel like I was having my own romance.

I hate it I hate it I hate it. I hate that I can't be loved, I hate my face, I hate myself for feeling these things. Last year when I suspected I began liking him, I told myself not to fall too deep, and here I am, ranting to you on tumblr dot com.

Lollytea, I love your writing and I love your posts. I love how confident you are of yourself. I'm very sorry for ranting in your inbox about my shitty love life, if this makes you uncomfortable, please delete it. But if you don't, I genuinely would like some encouragement. That my time for my own romance will come. That I will learn to love this face.

You're not unlovable. You're just 14. It just happens that being 14 feels a lot like being chronically unlovable. But no, that is not actually the case.

Maybe you've heard this a lot. And I imagine that it must be frustrating to listen to. That being a teenager just means your emotions are bigger and more intense than they will ever be in your entire life, so they're irrational and silly.

That's not the case either. Your feelings matter. And they're worth being listened to. But I do need you to keep in mind that the age range you're in right now is one of the most difficult periods of time that a human being will ever go through. Being a teenager is very hard. Being an adult is hard too. But me and every adult I've ever met would not trade it for being 14 again. No way in hell.

It does severely influence how you see yourself and why your emotions feel so strong and messy and all over the place. But I assure you that you're doing a fantastic job for a person in your situation. It's rough and you're getting through it and I'm proud of you.

Firstly, I'm going to say this quite bluntly but dont take it as me insulting them. Most of the boys in your class probably aren't that smart. And they are the absolute worst people to be seeking validation from. I promise that their opinion of you is not worth worrying about because they are...stupid, frankly. They won't be stupid forever. Probably. But being 14 is a weird age for boys too and they're quite mean for a while before they mature and chill tf out. Please try not to let it get to you if one of them doesn't like you romantically. I promise you it is not remotely a big deal. None of them have any idea how to be good boyfriends yet anyway.

No, you're not unlovable for occasionally having spiteful little thoughts about somebody who was mean to you. Everybody has those every once in a while. As long as you maintain some self-awareness and don't let cruelty consume your whole brain, having a few mean thoughts doesn't make you a terrible person. What WOULD make you a terrible person is external terrible behaviour. It's your actions that matter. So just be kind, alright? Be kind to your friends. Ignore the people you don't like but be civil. Don't hurt anyone. If you stick to all of this, you're golden. Considering that you already seem so self-critical of being a bit bitchy inside your own head, I think that's a promising sign than you won't do anything worse than that. I hope so anyway. Be kind, that's all you can do. Your friends love you. If you put your all into loving them in return, then you can have something so special.

You're not ugly, you're 14. Sorry, I'm getting a bit repetitive but I think it's relevant information to this whole situation. At the age you're at, your face is probably in this weird transitional period between child and adult so maybe that's why it might look "uglier" than usual to you. It might last a few more years but it won't look like that forever. I assure you that your face is beautiful because it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do. It's alright if you've felt ugly your whole life. The way you look at your own face is way more personal than the way you look at other people's faces. We don't really notice the flaws on others the way we notice our own. We're wired weird like that.

All I can say is hang tight. If you don't like your face then please try not to let it upset you that much. Your face hasn't fully developed yet. For the time being, you look exactly the way you're supposed to look and you're perfect. Let's see how it looks in a few years before we make any rash decisions about it being as ugly as you think it is.

Don't be hasty in the belief that you'll never find love and romance. I assure you that the age you're at is the absolute worst time to get a boyfriend and its perfectly okay if you don't experience it for another while. It's normal. You're fine. It's okay.

I know you want it. I know it sounds nice. And I promise that if its important to you, once you're older and the people you're interested in are a little smarter, you will have it.

I'm serious when I say that for the time being, focus on being a good friend. Focus on school. Focus on your own physical and mental health. Focus on your hobbies. Being wanted by 14 year old boys won't mean shit in the long run.

Things will be okay. You talk so much about how you'll be alone for the rest of your life. But your life has only just begun and you hardly know who you are yet. It's impossible to tell what will happen in the coming years. I promise that you'll be okay.

I know you came for me for reassurance but from that last paragraphs, I'm sure you're already smart enough to know the things I've told you. But I imagine that you just needed a second opinion. Take care, love.

[deutoplasmic]

AVERAGE WORKDAY AS A VICTIM OF CAPITALISM

kawanishi takumi x gn! reader. 1.7k words. fluff, coffee shop au, meet-ugly.

Usually, people consider having a job to be a solidification of a status in society, a contributing member of the economy, the responsible taxpayer living their best life. People also usually consider that having a good job means that you feel more happier, more fulfilled, more societally adaptive, more content with how fate happens to play out.

You say usually, because you are 5 seconds away from just finding your manager Sho and outright resigning. It's only the promise of sweet, sweet money that keeps you together after you clock into work, take a couple of orders, and serve a table – only for some woman to sniff her drink, frenetically slam it down on the varnished wood, and screech something along the lines of this iced latte tastes like full cream milk, I know it's full cream, stop lying to me, and I ordered skim! Her furious spittle keeps flying all over the tabletop and the cute decorative succulent you watered earlier today. Someone’ll have to clean it up later and it sure as hell won't be you.

Just in case she’s actually right and you didn't just bungle her order, you glance across the room to confirm the bottle of milk just used for her drink. And. It's most definitely skim. When you look back at her frenzied state, there is definitely not a single chance on Earth that she'll listen to you – or anyone, really, except maybe Sho. He’s always had a penchant for calming down aggravated customers, which would be really useful if he was here right now. But he's not, so you just get to relish in a spray of saliva, loud shrieking, and your increasing urge to just blow up on her. You definitely have to ask for a pay rise soon or something.

The woman yells out one more thing about disgusting coffee beans – you decide not to mention that to Sho, considering he likes to pride himself on his nitpicked 1000-time-tested internationally-sourced coffee selection – and in all the joys of working in the food industry, cathartically throws her drink at you. Or launches, which is a better word for how fast it hurtles toward you.

Unfortunately, you are not very skilled in the art of catching high-speed coffee cup-shaped objects, so you have to make do with the power of determination and spite. Making do, however, ends up constituting of you trying to grab the drink from out of mid-air. It also happens to constitute your expertise ultimately failing you, as the ridged edges of the cup bounce off your fingers.

And into this back of this poor neighbouring guy’s white graphic T-shirt, which is at just the right angle for a considerable amount of latte to splash all over itstaining the fabric a milky brown that creeps outwards and clings to his skin like vine tendrils you keep trying to pull off but just end up sticking again.

Everyone else in the cafe is silently staring at you and the guy, catching every single movement as the guy slowly turns around. Having a job makes you more content with how fate plays out, you fatalistically think, happier and more fulfilled. To your immense dismay, you can't just stand there and consider quitting as a viable option just yet, so you struggle but manage to splutter out a “sorry for the inconvenience, sir, we can pay for the cleaning”. There is no way you're going to even glance at his probably very shellshocked face out of pure shame after this extreme loss of dignity.

He does not respond, leaving the cafe to just slowly and awkwardly start chattering to each other again. After the woman awkwardly realises nothing else is going to come out of this, she just hisses out something unintelligible – probably something like “never coming here again”, which, y’know, good riddance – and storms out the cafe to the cheery jingle of some windchimes.

The guy is still silent. Someone dings the bell on the counter. You decide to just risk it and go to sneak an apologetic look-

“Is everything alright?” Sho, the saving grace of your sanity, walks outside the kitchen curiously with his hands dusted with some pale white flour. “There are some customers waiting- Takumi?”

You swivel to fully face the Takumi guy. And he's staring right at you. And he is very, very cute. And you just spilled coffee on him.

However, there is no rest for mildly-above-minimum wage pay workers, so you snap to attention. “Sho, I accidentally spilled a drink on his” – you stiffly gesture in the direction of said man – “shirt. Is there any chance I can get it cleaned for him?”

Sho looks at you before laughing. You have definitely made a fatal error and you’ll be fired right now, right here, and you’ll have to dig up your resume from the depths of somewhere to go on the arduous task of job-hunting.

But then. He just goes ahead and waves you off kindly. “No, Takumi’s a friend of mine – I’ll just do it myself. In the meantime, do you mind getting the spare shirt in the storeroom for him to change into?”

There is absolutely no way he said that. As you hastily nod in acknowledgement and speed over to the storeroom, you catalogue whatever that... situation was that just unfolded.

First, you fumbled a drink horrendously. Second, you got this poor guy’s shirt ruined. Third, you probably-most-definitely jeopardised the Google rating of this cafe. And fourth, you somehow managed to not get fired after this crazy debacle, just to make up for your horrific luck today.

As soon as you get home, you are going to go to sleep and pretend nothing happened today. Absolutely nothing. Not at all. Right now, though, you grab the shirt neatly folded underneath some dish towels, and take some sweet, sweet time to close the door. Sho’s busy wiping up all the coffee on the floor, so you hand over the shirt to the Takumi guy whilst emphatically not making any eye contact, and shuffle-run back to the counter to get to serving the small gaggle of people waiting there. Hopefully, you’ll never see him again and you can forget all about doing latte DIY on his shirt. Hopefully.

Your shift thankfully ends without any more fiascos, and life is looking up for you. It’s so consolidating, in fact, that you have to remember that you have another shift tomorrow just to keep your hopes down. Goddamnit. Definitely no rest for mildly-above-minimum wage workers.

-

When you clock in the next morning, everything is as usual. The table of the incident is clean. There are no mysterious coffee stains on any fabric. Maybe, you desperately hope, everything will be fine today!

After making a slew of drinks for regulars and newcomers alike, you’ve almost shoved the events of yesterday out of your mind. That is, until you’ve just served a latte (you refuse to acknowledge the type of drink) and the assistance bell rings. You look up from the counter and towards the customer. It’s a guy in a shirt that looks very familiar, and when you take in his face, you realise just exactly who this is.

He grins awkwardly at you. “Uh, hi?”

Your head starts frantically sounding emergency sirens. It’s Takumi. The guy you just spilt coffee on yesterday. It is so over. You are so over. Autopilot, however, kicks in and saves you from making a fool of yourself. “Um. Welcome. What would you like today?”

He helplessly stares at you for a few seconds, before pulling out a kind of crinkled neon-pink sticky note from his pant pocket. “May I please have your number?”

Sorry. What. “Sorry, what?” you echo in shock, stress removing the formality of your speech. “Huh?”

“Oh. Um. I, uh” – he squints to read the words on the paper – “thought it was worth a shot?” There’s a sad and very pitiful expression on Takumi’s face, which is too much for you to bear, so you hastily clarify what you said.

“Uh, sorry. I assumed you wouldn’t want anything to do with me after I ruined your shirt?”

“Ruined?” His eyes are very wide in bafflement. “Don’t worry, Sho’s very good at cleaning out coffee stains. Actually, I was grateful you spilled it on me, because otherwise I wouldn't have-”

You stare at him. He stares back at you, before caving in and looking away. When he realises you’re not going to say anything else, he frantically apologises. “Sorry. Was that too much information? Uh, I shouldn’t have trusted Keigo-”

“You’re fine,” you assure him awkwardly, grateful for the few customers inside. “Don’t worry.” This Keigo character clearly didn’t brief Takumi well enough if whatever's going on here is any clue.

“Oh. Cool. Um. Can you- we- go- guh. Can I get a hot chocolate? Medium please,” he blurts out so fast that you almost struggle to figure out what he ordered, but you're luckily versed in the art of deciphering drinks from mumbles. It's a skill you've developed from this very job.

You scribble his order down on a cup, professional 'I am just a calm, composed, paid worker at this cafe' mode activated again. "Anything else?"

"Uh." He consults the sticky note again before looking at you with so much hope that his face could probably be used in one of those tests where you try to identify someone’s emotions. "Can I um. Can I say your number again?"

His optimism is so inspiring, it's so obvious he doesn't work in the food industry. Why not, you impulsively decide. Why not.

“Sure,” you tell him indulgently, and the way he looks at you almost makes being a mildly above minimum wage worker worth it. Almost. Because now you have to ask him to pay for the drink, but you also don't want to ruin the moment, nor do you really want to put it 'on the house' since it'll be deducted from your paycheck, so you're kind of just standing there at an impasse.

Such is the life of a victim of capitalism.

"I'll make that for you right now," you sigh in defeat, and try to ignore the way your heart thumps a little too hard and fast at his excited smile.