#you: sends in literally anyting

[mindsmade]

what i don’t wish is for you to leave. 🥲

meme

He never thought he'd be on the receiving end of that line. It'd always been him to think it, though rarely to say it — too scared of the repercussions of airing out his worst fears like that. V thinks it makes him a coward and therefore, by extent, this makes So Mi brave. For a moment, in his puzzlement, he wonders if she struggles with telling him this, with confiding in him so, just like he knows he would had their roles been reversed.

His end lies looming on the horizon, though, so maybe she's simply recognized she doesn't have anything to lose now. Neither does he, really, but he supposes his avoidant is also a real fuckin' stubborn one. So he chews on the sentiment she's just shared with him, his eyes searching hers for some indication of a lie — perhaps a white lie to placate him because, despite his best intentions, maybe she's seen through his forced distance; his eternal self-restraint, because what if his presence repels her, or what if his feelings do?

He sees none of that, not even with his signature paranoia keeping his expectations on a tight leash. V tips his head sideways some as such, his eyebrows knitting together.

❛  Y'mean it?  ❜

He hadn't wanted to leave, anyway. Ironically, being stuck with the bastard that is Johnny Silverhand has made him all the more keen on sticking around; on living to see the end of this fucked-up tale. Quite the change from his usual disregard for his own life.

He'd be one big liar if he'd deny the role others have played in the second spark given to his will to live, though. Jackie ( man, how he misses him, still ), Panam, Judy — and, despite their rocky track record ( or maybe even because of it ), So Mi. Oh, So Mi, the one that fucked him over the hardest, and contrarily did the most to undo any damage done.

A slight smile splits his features, overpowering the bemusement stuck fast till now. Though reading facial expressions is hardly one of his strengths ( that unyielding scepticism of his sees to that ), he's sure he detects a current of sadness sweeping across her features. Not even the iridescent gradient of her hair he so loves could distract him from that.

Uncharacteristically boldly, he pierces the perimeter of the personal space he always ensures he sticks to ( even if others are invited into it ), placing his right hand on her shoulder — closer to her neck than to her upper arm.

As the silence stretches on a moment longer, he considers his chances; whether they're good enough to merit a promise from his end. Mikoshi, for all intents and purposes, should be the panacea he's been after. One assault, one cure, one escape, and that's it.

Still, he doesn't have the courage to commit to any promises. The uncertainty underscoring that fact frightens him somewhat, but he swallows it down for now, comforted by the knowledge that he's not alone in the fight of and for his life.

❛  I'm doin' all I can to stick around, So Mi. Somehow, this mess has gone and done the impossible of actually makin' me want to live.  ❜ He squeezes her shoulder gently, cementing his resolution to stay. Before he finishes his train of thought, he withdraws his touch, gesturing towards her. ❛  I'll even admit to wantin' to stay just to spend more time with you.  ❜

Here, his gaze peels off her, briefly flitting towards the NCART coasting along the tracks in the distance. It sticks there only for a second or two for that penetrating silence's sake, before his eyes inevitably find hers again. This time, the smile on his face bears a sheepish quality.

❛  Unless you're talkin' about not wantin' me to leave this specific spot just now — in which case: my bad, first of all. Second: I've got some time left 'fore I have to go meet Rogue.  ❜

[elsa-fogen]

So. On the topic of Alastor headcannons. What's your opinion on these radio themed ones:

Alastor has an internal radio. Like the concept of having songs play through your head, but more literal. He can tune to stations as if he was a radio himself. And if he really wants to, he can connect himself to other radios in his immediate vicinity and play that music though them instead.

His antlers help his radio powers. So when they get damaged (in battle, sheds them, whatever reason you wanna put here) his internal radio goes bazerk. Think; flipping stations randomly, connecting to other radios when he doesn't want it to, playing loud static at random. All the chaos.

He can hear through other radios. He once had to listen to Vox playing Barbie Girl through a TV right next to a radio in Vox's studio, for a week straight. Surely enough; Barbie Girl is now banned from all radio stations in hell.

What do you think? I got more like these if you like them. Give me a generic topic and I can probably list several under that category.

OHH RADIO HEASCANONS

Yes, but he also can turn it on and off when he needs

Never thought about it, but it's funny (don't think i'm going to use it anywhere but who knows, maybe i'll make some funzies with that)

Pretty much used it in one my comic slihdsdkjfh +headcanon that Vox taught him that, he also can control when and which radio he wants to listen (or his head would be a horrible mess) ut i like headcanon that he has some songs banned on the radio lol

speaking of other radiostations, i actually made an instruction on How To get Your Own Radio Station In Hell, let me just find it real quick... i wanted to share it long ago, but couldn't find a moment

Imagine you're a normal sinner in hell, who suddenly wants to become radio host for one small station. and it's possible! and you won't even die, and get some benefits, if succeed. So, it's kinda hard, but doable

1. You need to write a letter asking for a permission to have your own station to The Radio Demon himself. a) letter should be handwritten, and your handwriting must be at least readable. Or you can use typewriter, if you find one. DO NOT write it on a computer and then print, you'll probably won't be able to get your station in following 50 years b) You should send your letter via post. DO NOT try to meet Radio Demon in person, you'll just lose time, or even if you get lucky, he won't take your letter. b*) Now you can just come to Hazbin Hotel and give your letter to Charlie Morningstar and ask her to give it to Radio Demon. Don't worry, she won't read it. b**) You should leave your contacts, that's obligatory if you want to get an answer - that means you have to have a place to live. c) Do not try to e-mail him, he doesn't even have a phone or computer to receive it. If someone gives you 100% totally real Radio Demon's e-mail - don't trust them, its fake 2. You'll get answer from the Radio Demon in 1-2 weeks, he'll send you set of papers which you have to fill out. You'll probably have to do it 3-4 times so don't worry, he's just testing your dedication. In these papers you give general info about your future radio station - the name, schedule, what activities you'll gonna have and what kinds of music wanna play. Include some jazz, especially if you mostly want to have modern music. You'll also have to tell a bit about yourself. You absolutely should not be connected to voxtech in any way. 2.b) he may simply dislike your ass and become a real bureaucratic monster. Keep trying - you can impress him with you dedication and he may like you in the end 3. When you got your application approved, you'll have to sign a contract, that gives you right to broadcast on a certain radio frequency. According to the contract - your radio station belongs to the Radio Demon, you'll just getting it in unlimited use, until the contract terminated. You DO NOT sell your soul to the Radio Demon. He can broadcast over you any time he needs and you can't do anything about it. He can also ask you to change something in your broadcast schedule, ask to replace of cancel any of your programs, ban music and so on. (Tho, he probably won't do anything of it). But since your radio station is his property, you're as well under his protection while you on your station, so if someone attacks you and you're unable to protect yourself and your station, you'll have a way to contact him and ask for help. You'll have a specific channel for it and list of morse codes for emergencies. You should not use this channel for anything else, or you'll lose your station. 4. After all paperwork is done and approved, you have to get equipment for your station. DO NOT use ANYTHING voxtech related, and you absolutely cannot have TV on your station. 5. After you got all the equipment, invite the Radio Demon to your station. He'll set everything up for you and give you list of emergency codes. Do not try to interrupt his infodumps even if you lost track of it and can't understand shit, it's better if you show enthusiasm. 6. And done! Now you are happy small radio host! The Radio Demon may show up on your station sometimes to check how everything's going, but don't worry about it, he won't be bother you too often after few weeks.

P. S. You are NOT friends with the Radio Demon, even if he acts friendly and calls you "dear" - that's just his normal, not-threatenning behavior P. P. S. Don't be too personal, don't dump on him your problems if they aren't related to the station when he comes to you. Just make him some coffee, talk about weather and tell that everything works just fine P. P. P. S. ABSOLUTELY! DO NOT! TRY TO HUG HIM! He'll just laugh at you, and if you somehow succeed he'll make everything to make you regret every action in your life and afterlife that led you to this moment (and it doesn't necessarily means he will torture you physically, once he run into masacistic freak that got a boner when was tortured) P. P. P. P. S. If you caught feelings for him - suffer in silence and NEVER try to confess. You'll lose your station immediately and will never get it back.

All these instructions are totally written by Rosie who heared so many complaints from Alastor about how people want to become a radio host but can't do it properly

And Alastor is probably making them experience what he went through to become a radio host in life

GOD, TUMBLR WHY UR SUCH AN ASS TODAY WTF LET ME JUST POST MY SILLY TEXT

[sadist1224]

I need the Mafia!141 AU

I just want one more Mafia!141, but where you are not a sweet helpless girl, but a junior police lieutenant who was not accepted back into service due to injury.

And so you work in a bar that belongs to Valeria, and you don't give a shit who's a thug or not, but at some point you find yourself involved in this cycle of mafia events between gangs 141, CorTak, Los Vaqueros, Shadows and Connie, although you are essentially a civilian.

But instead of being a victim, you, as a former policeman, begin to nightmare overconfident mafiosi, defend your point of view and protect ordinary civilians from them.

Of course, you attract their attention, especially 141, who dragged you into this mess.

Sop and Gaz, who come to your bar for the first time, see you and go to greet you with a happy face, and you point guns in their faces, because WHAT the HELL do they think they can just kidnap you to blackmail your idiot ex who dared to steal money from them.

Sop and Gaz, who liked you right away, are still tied up in a chair, and they didn't mean you any harm, but work is work and now they're trying to make amends.

Imagine the faces of Price and the Ghost when Johnny and Kyle tell them that they met you at the bar behind the counter, and the men's eyes immediately light up with interest, because this is Valeria's bar, and she is still a dark horse.

Of course, they are setting up surveillance on you, but you are not blindly sewn, so you literally burst into Price's office and poke him in the face with this espionage. Your threats don't sound so impressive to him, but your sharp angry look and tough stance ignite something in him that he has long forgotten about. And he agrees to stop the surveillance, but in return he sends his boys to follow you.

Since then, there has not been a day when b 141 has not appeared in your bar. Of course, it annoyed you, but then you resigned yourself to working in a bar and helping those in need.

At some point, Joni brings Alejandro and Rudy to the bar, and Valeria is not happy about this, but you calm her down, saying that you keep everything under control.

Johnny, who quietly boils with jealousy when you respond to a light flirtation of Mexicans, but you only give him an angry look.

Kyle, who arrives a little later and finds Sope smoking at the entrance with an offended expression on his face.

And you see the upset expression on the face of the man with the mohawk, and the way Gaz gently rubs his shoulders, trying to cheer him up, and your heart thaws a little bit.

Johnny is ready to blow something up with happiness when you secretly send these two two stacks of whiskey on the house. The smiles on their faces are so bright, like children's, that you can't take offense at these two anymore. But this does not mean that you have posted a Price List or (even more so) A ghost who tried not to contact you at all.

A ghost who already knows where you live, what you drive, what kind of coffee you prefer and what books you read.

A ghost who actually feels sympathy for you for the strength of your character and a moderately kind heart, but he also thinks that you obviously like Gas and Soap more than he does, so he does not want to get into your fragile relationship with his subordinates, for fear of breaking everything.

A ghost who refuses Johnny to go to the bar with him until the last moment, but eventually breaks down when Sope talks about his favorite bourbon, which you ordered just the other day.

A ghost who sees no point in giving flowers, preferring something more practical and necessary for you. Therefore, by the end of the evening, he imperceptibly leaves you a generous tip, knowing what a precarious economic situation you are in, and that you will obviously refuse them if you are given them on purpose.

Price, who has been trying to get information about you all this time after you appeared in his office, but apart from your date of birth, place of birth and place of study, he can't find anything, even with his connections, so he considers you "clean".

Price, who is so intrigued by their new friend from the bar that he sets up a business meeting with Los Vaqueros in it, making a new secret gathering point out of your place of work.

Needless to say, Valeria was not happy about it? But she does not blame you in any way, because you are almost her sister, and if she could, she would have made you her right hand in her underground business long ago, but you deliberately ask not to involve yourself in this.

The bar where you work unwittingly becomes a neutral zone, and the bar area becomes Valeria's area, which means your area. And now you are unwittingly responsible for its inhabitants. But you agree to this, because these people - your neighbors and friends - have become your family and you will do everything to protect your small area from mafia groups and keep peace in it.

[sleepyelliee]

MODERN AU JACK MARSTON X GN! READER.

before you continue !

this is completely based off of @superunknoown drawings of modern jack and john marston. please send them some support since their art is literally amazing <3.

also jack header is from @reddorkredemption, the dividers are created by @/fairytopea

also, thank you sooo much @frozen-waters ! some things listed in this are from their headcannons!

warnings! mentions of bullying, this takes place in modern AU, financial issues briefly spoken, emotionally disconnected, implied death of a loved one, mentions about the VDL gang but is referred to "troublemakers", you're a college student who lives with roommates and you work as barista for a side job. lmk if I should add anything else! no mention of y/n. loosely proofread!

the smell of coffee brewed throughout the small cafe that was located in blackwater, other employees that worked alongside you were chatting amongst themselves about their personal lives. normally, most would've considered that unprofessional but the cafe you were working at was considered a small business due to hardly ever seeing new faces and most folks who walked in were a regular. Some regulars you enjoyed talking to like bonnie macfarlane, a sweet girl with a slight accent with blonde hair and the most beautiful looking eyes and faint freckles — sometimes you would catch yourself admiring her sweet features.

The cafe was typically quiet throughout the day, the only thing that was considered to be loud enough is the bell that would jingle anytime someone opened the door to allow one of the employees to tend to their needs. It was easy money for a broke college student who was already living with two other roommates in a small dorm room that was cramped.

Today seemed like one of those quiet and soothing days that managed to ease your nerves about stress about your financial situation and all your exams that were upcoming as you clocked in for work. As you washed your hands, you heard the bell above the entry door ring, indicating a customer arrived. In the corner of your eye, a boy who seemed to be around your age with slight freckles, a moustache and brunette messy hair that swung over his eyes walked in. He had a slightly muscular build and stood tall when he approached the counter.

"Hey, what would you like?" You inquired gently, making sure to keep in mind to speak softly to him because the eye bags under his eyes were noticable. Your hands rested on the edge on the counter as you watched his gaze fall into the menu, deciding what coffee he wanted.

"Just a black coffee, thank you." He muttered, the groggily morning voice underlined the exhausted tone in his voice, "Put the name down on the order as Jack; Jack Marston." He clarified as his hand slipped into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a wallet and slipping out twenty-two dollars just like the price on the order was.

You nodded, taking the money and slipping it into th cash register, "It will take a couple minutes, okay?" You stated as your gaze fell back onto his face. You could nearly see underlying stress and exhaustion in his face as his jaw clenched — eye bags, how he speaks to you so quietly. After all, you have been that exhausted before and knows how that feels like after all the exams you had to take couple months prior.

After twelve minutes, you give him the black coffee he orders as you slip him a small packet of sugar if he wanted to add it. "Enjoy it." You muttered as you watched him nod his head in acknowledgment.

...

After that day, you notice how he would come back the day after and the day after...and the day after until it became a cycle that he would come every morning. You aswell started to notice he had multiple piercings in his nose and ears, something you completely disregarded until you took a closer look at him.

Eventually, you began to start developing slight feelings for the young man, he was good-looking, polite and genuinely minded his own business anytime the cafe would get a little too loud with your coworkers banter — something you thought would've been impossible since you were more focused on college. You spoke about this with Bonnie whenever she came around for her morning coffee and she immediately kept on teasing you before she revealed the fact she knew Jack's father — John Marston, a man with a rugged look, as Bonnie described. She encouraged you to make the first move, stating that Jack was a very quiet boy and having a crush on some stranger who comes into the cafe wouldn't be ideal.

You caved in, writing a small note to him regarding his multiple pericings as you gave him his order on another quiet mornings. As the young man opened the note, he could see the messy handwriting stating, love your piercings! I think you look good in them.

You could feel the embarrassment slowly seeping through you as you watched him cough on his coffee. Clearly catching Jack off guard with that compliment from a barista he hardly knew about.

...

When you told Bonnie about this incident, she immediately gleamed with a smile and immediately advised you to keep on writing more and more sweet notes when you would give him his coffee. Despite your rebuttal that you needed to focus on school more than some boy, you eventually get convinced.

Every time that brunette would walk into the cafe and order his coffee, you would slip multiple sweet notes when you would deliver it to him. Seeing his reactions made you think this was a bad idea, and maybe he wasn't into you whatsoever.

Jack soon started to take more time ordering as his gaze would be set on you, starting to analyze every feature of yours as he would fidget with one of his piercings, most commonly his ear pericing because it always gets your attention to be set on him.

...

You kept on telling Bonnie and then your other coworkers who have been seeing this whole ordeal and advised you to get him a gift and ask him out. You were in denial still, trying to convince yourself that this was a small crush despite the fact you wrote those sweet notes to that quiet boy.

You somehow found yourself in a small flower shop, buying a bouquet of tulips as another bag was in your hand that contained chocolates, a letter, and couple of other goodies your friends advised you to get. As you were paying up for the tulips, you could feel your mind going on overdrive as you found yourself standing here despite trying to be in straight denial for your small crush.

...

The next day morning, you heard the bell above the door ring and as you expected it was Jack Marston. You quickly muttered, "Good morning." As you tried to keep yourself calm as you slid over the bag of goodies and bouquet of tulips, you swore he was looking at you with a small smirk as your cheeks began to grow red.

It seemed after that confession, he was lingering around the cafe a lot more than usual, his gaze fixated on you as your coworkers would tease you endlessly about it. Soon this little ordeal would become into him giving you CDS with songs that reminded him of you, sometimes gifting you albums and CDs of artists you like and even delivering small candies when he noticed how stressed you seemed over college or how exhausted you looked over certain days.

When he finally asked you if he could stay over, you declined and you stated that you live with two other roommates, after all you didn't want him to feel overwhelmed in that small space you lived in. This caused Jack to immediately introduce you to his parents so you could stay over at his house instead of being cramped up in a small room — Jack always claimed, but in reality, he was afraid of loosing you due to hardly having any friends growing up.

Jack's father, John Marston wasn't bad of a fellow, he was just quite...distant per say, but he was still welcoming to you just like Abigail Marston, Jack's mother. Sometimes John would offer you one of his cigarettes or in most cases, full packs that weren't open yet as he would talk about the group of troublemakers he would be in, telling you crazy stories like how him and his group of friends would rob places, beat up couple of guys and always causing some ruckus.

Abigail Marston was a mother you never had, she was constantly worried about you and sometimes would ask Jack multiple of times if you were hurt, stressed, tired if you were even couple minutes late to a gathering.

...

When you and Jack officially became official, he would start to open up about his past and how he was bullied and normally was alone most majority of his social life. He would also cling onto you anytime he didn't see you for long periods of time, and sometimes he would even allow you to choose which pericing he is going to put on for the day.

His kisses were divine, especially the days where you were so tired and stressed, he would just pull you close and give you multiple kisses on your cheek, forehead, and neck as a way to make you laugh.

thank you so much for reading!! feel free to give back criticism because I'm still new to this! masterlist

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Kokichi Ouma from Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony vs Peter Pan from Once Upon A Time

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. i will block you if you harass others in the notes, please consider sending your unhinged harassment to my inbox instead)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Kokichi Ouma:

LOVE: - "hes a bitch and that makes a lot of people hate him and a lot of other people love him. no one can decide on his motives and i think thats kind of the point. i like him personally but hes a raging asshole <3" - "Not a single DR fan I've ever met is neutral about Kokichi, he's perfect for this poll. I think he's a clever character with consistent internal logic, and his interactions with the other characters are as compelling as they are hilarious. He looks like a dog squeaky toy, and he plots like Artemis Fowl. He's one of my favorite characters in the series and I love him dearly." - "NOBODY CARES ABOUT THIS BOY'S PSYCHOLOGY AT ALL. HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF AND HIS IMAGE AND MADE EVERYONE HATE HIM AND CONSIDER HIM A MONSTER ON THE SLIGHT CHANCE HE COULD USE HIS LIFE TO HELP EVERYONE ELSE ESCAPE AND SURVIVE AND NOBODY CARES. THEY SHOW HIS BREAKDOWN AND NOBODY BELIEVES HIM. I'M SO TIRED" - "not only is he a danganronpa character (inherently controversial) he is also the antagonist and constantly lying because That's His Whole Deal. people either love him or hate his guts. he's a little piece of shit. i would submit komaeda but i feel like views on him are more positive, generally. sorry i have bad taste in video games" - "he's a horrible little guy trying his best in not very good ways what more could you want" - "I don't know, people say he's badly written because they don't pay attention to his arc beyond the cartoonish facade he very obviously forces, and they don't like him because he caused someone's death which like..fair (he did feel super bad about it though so its fine.) Some people also don't enjoy his wonderful personality and think he's a mean piece of shit, which he is, but it's fine. They're just sensitive." - "I know people don't like him because he's like. a shittier version of Komaeda. But that's what's so GOOD about him. He's a shitty asshole of a person, playing pretend at being a villain because he's desperate!!! I think that's really fun. He's dooming himself and I want him to be okay after everything ends, but he dies so he can't even have that much :(" - "so i saw you got submissions for him. but not enough i need to submit him myself he is my favorite character from anything ever. he is the silly man he is so funny one time (actually, two times if you count one optional interaction) he asked a robot if he had a dick and it's absolutely iconic i love him"

HATE: - "(dangan spoilers ahead if that matters) look ok i didn’t originally feel too strongly about kokichi. i think his character is interestingly written (can’t say well-written bc danganronpa but yaknow) and he adds a lot of charm to v3. i understand why he’s popular- he’s one of the few characters in v3 to have both a personality and plot relevance. but oh my GODDDDD he is not a good person!!!! and i am so SICK of seeing him woobified into ‘ooh little baby he did his best he wasn’t doing anything wrong’ JUST BECAUSE you find out he was trying to end the killing game after he dies doesn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly fucked up throughout the game!!! like he was incredibly manipulative, a bully, encouraged infighting, Literally Orchestrated A Murder And Protected Himself From Danger By Getting The Big Stupid Sweetheart To Do It which caused TWO unnecessary deaths and- oh yeah- tricked everyone into believing he was the mastermind and the world had ended to make them so depressed that they just wouldn’t do anything anymore bc can’t kill someone if you’re rotting away in your room!!! AUGH like he’s a good character but it’s BECAUSE he sucks that he’s interesting. maybe this is just the komaeda fan in me but sometimes!!! the character is cooler when you understand that they’re a bad person. at least komaeda gets an actual redemption arc. kokichi’s just an asshole that the game tries to make you sympathetic for at the very end but he spends the entire game being an asshole so why the hell would i like him??? and then i go in a fandom tag and it’s constant unending ‘kokichi did nothing wrong’ the whole point of his character is that he does EVERYTHING wrong. i truly feel like the dr team was trying to replicate komaeda’s popularity but it was messy and poorly handled bc he’s not even a bad person in an interesting way like komaeda he’s just got trust issues that lead him to be stupid and An Asshole. then again people eat it up so what do i know lmao. i love to hate that little shit i wanna punt him into the goddamn stratosphere. score a field goal with that asshat. this is all lighthearted btw i love to die on small hills" - "WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE HIM OH MY GOOOOOOD HES SUCH A FLAT CHARACTER HES A SODA I LEFT OUT FOR 3 DAYS kokichi oma is easily the WORST written danganronpa character. it has been a while since i was into danganronpa so the details are a bit fuzzy but my rage has NOT subsided. following the success of Easily One Of The At Least Top Three Best Written Danganronpa Characters known as nagito komaeda, kokichi had some shoes to fill. he instead showed up in clown shoes. kokichis whole premise is that you dont know if hes lying or not, him being a huge clown and causing shit for like a good third of the cast. kokichi was a simple character. hes a bitch, he sturs shit up, he eat hot chip and lie, it was FINE. not GREAT, but FINE. and then he died. suddenly— kokichi was from modest beginnings. he was actually a genius who was actually doing all of this to save everyone. he was a martyr. they TRIED to follow up on the success of nagito komaeda, and failed miserably. the guy literally has nazi imagery he didnt need to be complex he just needed to be an asshole and force the plot. for assholes that force the plot with actual good depth, may i interest you in byakuya togami? for guys who lie all the time with actual good depth, may i interest you in sou hiyori the beanie man himself from your turn to die [similar genre]? seriously. you guys could do SO much better. just... get better taste oh my GOD JUST BECAUSE HES A TWINK DOESNT MEAN HES WELL WRITTEN" - "Omg I hate this guy,,, people either baby him & make him a uwu soft boy or a funky clown dude, & both those types of people forget all the things he has done??? even if he "redeemed" himself in the end (which i don't think he did--) that still doesn't negate all of the things he did before??? actions speak louder than words but he could never rely on that bc all the does is lie anyway-- i have some strong opinions about him."

Peter Pan:

LOVE: - "My propaganda is that like. Half of the OUaT fandom is OBSESSED with this guy and the other half write fanfiction about their self-inserts beating the shit out of him. The tumblr sphere might be a bit too biased in favor of love and I doubt he'll make it far but from what I've seen people either adore this guy or want him dead in the streets"

[twopoppies]

This is going to be personal, but yes, it’s really nice from Gemma with her message because I experienced miscarriage last year and now I’m bit emotional because if nothing happend, I would be expecting with my first born anytime now. It was my first pregnancy, I became pregnant literally immediately after I had unprotected sex with my parther and I miscarriaged at week 8 so very early while later I finding out it’s nothing unusual and heard more stories about dealing with miscarriage when first time pregnant than stories of women who’s first pregnancy ended with delivery but damn, that trauma that I felt like I’m loosing and I couldn’t absolutely do anyting about it. I’m still traumatized and lowkey worried but one won’t know it they won’t try another time. But thanks to this affliction, after months of feeling desperate at my work I decided to leave the office where I was working and my work there was no longer bringing me joy and so now I’m in much better place, much happier, having work I love while working with people that are my friends and they care about me and my opinions and overally just satisfied with life and planning to get pregnant with faith (in the future haha) that I will become a mother too maybe even this or next year 🤞🏻.

Sending you lots of love, darling. I’m so sorry you experienced that loss. But it’s wonderful to hear that things are turning by around for you now. ❤️

[ifidiedinadream]

Hey, you'll know who I am but I feel more comfy sending this on anon soo 🤫

You said I could send an ask here if I wanna give more details for a possible Olli reader insert (request) so here I am to drop exactly that – hope that's not too late 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Maybe something where Olli and the reader aren't in a relationship and it's rather a fwb situation but when they get to it it's still really intimate and passionate aside from being spicy and hot...? 🤔 (so idk fwb but there could be emotions that go further than friendship involved they just haven't really figured it out yet 👀)

But honestly I'd also just leave it up to you whatever inspiration you might find for this :3 💕

hello friend!! hope you enjoy 🥰🥰🥰💕💖 

You were looking forward to your winter break because life was making you exhausted, but now you’re just very bored. Christmas is in two days, all the presents are wrapped but everyone else is busy with their last minute Christmas shopping and you’re feeling kind of lonely. 

Down time means your mind starts to wander. Mind starting to wander means it’ll most likely get to some steamy thoughts to entertain you. 

You’re not surprised when, as you lie in bed with music on, bored out of your mind, those kinds of thoughts slowly make their way into your consciousness. A hand slides inside your panties, warm and relieving, but as a certain someone’s face appears in your mind, you stop. You can always call that certain someone when you need help, don’t you? Why use your hand when you have that option? 

Hoping that he’s done with the Christmas shopping unlike all of your other friends, you open Olli’s chat and text him. You tell him you’re bored at home, if he’s interested. You don’t have to be direct to be sure he knows exactly what you’re implying. 

Olli’s answer comes a few minutes later, text ending with the smirking emoji. You smile to yourself, face flushed, as you text him that yes, 8 p.m. at your place is fine by you. You try not to read too much into the heart he sends as a reply. 

You take a shower, have dinner, get ready in the meantime. Olli and you are good friends, have known each other for a while, but still you want to look your best for him; so you put on one of your sexiest lingerie sets under your regular clothes, a nice little surprise for when he gets to undress you later. 

You’re growing more and more impatient. 

You almost jump to your feet when the doorbell rings, opening the door to find an adorably bundled up Olli, cheeks and nose red from the cold. You move aside to let him enter after you say hi to each other, and he kisses your cheek as he walks past you. 

“Thank you for coming,” you say, genuinely grateful that he’s here to relieve your boredom (and the horniness that has been building up for the last few hours). Olli snorts. 

“I still haven’t! I literally just walked in,” he says and the confused expression on your face dissolves after a second, when you get the joke. You playfully hit him on the arm. 

“Olli!” 

“I know, I know, sorry,” he says. “Of course I came. Who leaves their friend who’s clearly in need of help alone?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re smiling. He’s taking his outerwear off in the meantime, making himself home just as he’s done many times before. 

“May I offer you anything to drink? Or eat?” you ask. 

“No, thank you,” he walks over to you and grabs your face in his hands. His voice is soft. “At the moment, you’re the only thing I want.” 

You kiss, his lips still cold but quickly warming up against yours. The butterflies in your stomach reawaken when the kiss deepens, leaving you out of breath. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

You gently push Olli on the chest when you get to your bed and he lets himself fall down onto the mattress. You’re quick to crawl on top of him, kissing him hungrily as you work his jeans open, palming and touching him in the process. He groans in your mouth, hand ending up on your butt as you finally manage to take him out. 

Before you can do anything, however, Olli rolls you over so that you’re the one on their back, while he’s lying on top of you. He looks down into your eyes for a moment, motionless and serious, blue irises darker than usual. It doesn’t render his gaze any less gentle. 

Trying not to get lost into his intense eyes, you grab the hem of your hoodie and take it off, your pants following suit. His expression turns playful, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips as he takes in the lingerie set you put on just for him. This one’s new, he’s never seen it before, and you love to see his reaction whenever you make a new purchase. 

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he says, touching you delicately over the lace of your bra. From there, his hand runs downwards, caressing your middle, making you shiver. He hooks his finger in the lateral string of your thong when he gets there, pulls at it and the elastic hitting your skin lightly makes your eyes close. 

He gets you out of the thong then and positions himself between your legs, which you open even more reflexively. Instead of lying down on you again, though, Olli lowers himself between your thighs. You relax all your muscles at the sight, getting ready for what’s about to come. 

Olli kisses your inner thigh, dragging the moment out before turning his attention where you actually want it, making you hold your breath. You feel yourself get wetter and finally he’s licking at your clit, causing you to sigh in relief. 

He moves his tongue in circles, applying the right amount of pressure and going at the perfect speed (you told him how you liked it when you had sex with him for the first time and he’s never messed up since that day); the pleasure is a lot already but you force your eyes open, especially when you see how Olli is looking up at you with that fucking languid and lustful stare of his that drives you wild. 

You feel your guts twist, overwhelmed by the skill of his tongue and the scorching warmth of his gaze. You let out a moan, his eyelashes fluttering as he picks up the pace of his tongue, working your clit in earnest, gripping your thighs tightly with his hands. You throw your head back, coming with your hand in his hair, pulling just slightly; the other hand fists the sheet and your back arches, hips thrusting under his mouth but he doesn’t let go of you until the orgasm’s over. 

Your body sinks slack into the mattress, feeling heavy but so relaxed. Olli climbs on top of you again, planting a kiss on your collarbone. 

“Do you still wanna…” he starts, his quiet voice making you open your eyes. His handsome face so close is all you can see; his lips are wet. 

“Sure,” you say, still a little breathless, the evident bulge pressed against your thigh making you all the more convinced. He kisses you on the lips and you briefly taste yourself. 

Olli grabs a condom from his pocket before he discards his jeans, puts it on and buries his face in your hair, ready to enter you. You grab his head, curls soft between your fingers, bracing yourself. 

You let out a soft groan when he’s inside, loving the way he fills you up. Your hands travel down from his hair to his back to his butt, sliding up his hoodie from there and feeling his warm skin. Olli starts thrusting then, slow and steady, breathing hot against your ear with some low grunts in between. You keep caressing his back, making his hoodie ride up with the movement of your hands, scratching his skin when the rolling of his hips turns more forceful. 

You moan, the feeling super intense and pleasant. He lifts his face, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes and parted lips, and you think he might be gazing into your soul at the moment. He dives in to connect your lips but he’s moving too much for it to be a kiss, so you end up just brushing lips instead and you don’t love it any less. You wrap your legs around the small of his back when his movements pick up even more, making your moans louder. He only slows down for a second to take his hoodie off, skin covered in sweat, and the feeling of his skin against your chest makes everything ten times better. 

You come again not much later. He takes your hand when he feels you clench violently around him, the first spasm of your orgasm. He only loosens the grip when he comes himself, a low moan resounding in your ears while you’re still riding your high. He lets himself fall onto you when it’s over. 

After you recover, he pulls out and gets up to go trash the condom and go to the bathroom. It’s starting to feel cold without his body on you but you’re too lazy to move. 

When he comes back, he has a little box in his hand. You sit up, curious. Your circle of friends explicitly said no Christmas gifts this year, only quality time, but what Olli’s holding suspiciously looks like a gift. 

“Listen, I know we said no presents,” he says, confirming your fear, “but this one is small and kind of stupid and I thought of you when I saw it at the store, so…” 

You give him a reprimanding look, but accept the gift when he hands it over with a smile. 

“Can I open it now?” 

“Sure, go for it.” 

It’s a bath set with a bath bomb and scented candles. “The bath bomb has petals in it,” Olli says. “I figured, you know. You’re often stressed out, so what’s better than a nice bath to unwind after a long day?” 

He’s blushing and you can’t help but smile. “Thank you,” you say. “What about we use it right now? Together?” 

Olli looks at you with big eyes but soon his expression softens. “Sure. Would love to.” 

[softguarnere]

i haven’t done a ship request in forever so hopefully i did this right i can’t remember lmao

for the most part, i’m pretty chill. i’m cool if you’re cool. if not, i can be salty and grumpy. most people would say i’m quiet, shy, and don’t talk much, but with friends, i’m a lot more animated and get more joke-y. i express a lot of my love through memes.

even though i probably qualify as someone you’d call ‘smart’ i’m much more in tune with my creative side (but that may just be the school trauma talking lmao) and i enjoy writing a lot. i also enjoy reading. my favorite are mysteries! other things i like doing is playing video games and watching YT vids about my latest hyperfixation. some more misc interests: history, true crime, anime, musical theater, and cute animals.

ngl i’m ace and so romantic/sexual relationships have never really been all too important to me. if it happens, it happens. ofc this is a ship request LOL, and while i don’t really have a type, i could only imagine living the rest of my life with someone who understands i’m not gonna be the most physically affectionate and that this neurodivergent potato needs space sometimes.

i’m not the biggest texter or responder to things either (usually not gonna be having lengthy convos in texts), and more of the type to randomly send someone something that reminded me of them at weird hours. but i’m not very high maintenance and if i love you, just chilling together is enough.

things i can’t stand in people: bigotry, pretentiousness, defensiveness when rightly called out for something, nazis (+ sympathizers) ✌️

Anon, I swear we could probs be best friends, because we have SO MUCH in common, oh my goodness. (And don't worry -- you did fine hehe) 😊

I ship you with . . .

David Webster!

Lowkey nervous to say that because I know a lot of people don't like him, but 👏hear👏me👏out👏

You know meet-cutes? Y'all accidentally have a meet-not-so-cute. You meet at Camp Toccoa and get off on the wrong foot because Webster is waxing poetic about weekend passes being canceled, and you think he's annoying and pretentious. Because of this, he ends up thinking you're more reserved, but once you finally get to know each other and you open up to him, he could swear that you're personality is brighter and warmer than the sun in the sky

This man is a hyperfixation enabler (in the best way)! He is so content to hear you infodump about the subjects that you're passionate about, and he's super happy to have someone to infodump about sharks with in return

Creative power couple. You're so supportive of each other's writing, helping each other through writer's blocks and bouncing ideas off each other. But he's also content to just sit next to you on quiet days while you both read. He just likes to spend time with you in any form

On occasion, he's a night owl -- especially if he's super hyperfixated on his work. He'll try his best -- like, he's trying really, really, hard, so credit where credit is due -- but he will probably wake you up in the middle of the night at some point to tell you a fact he thinks that you'll like. (And if you wanna show him facts that reminded you of him? His heart will literally melt, because he thinks being remembered is one of the greatest forms of love)

BUT at the same time, he completely gets it if you need space --especially physically. Honestly, he tends to get caught up in his writing so easily that if you need space, he's not gonna mope around or anything because he'll be using he time to work on his novel. I feel like y'all could just work so well together because, yeah it's fun to be around each other, but you both need time to recharge by yourselves, and there's no judgement in that

There is a learning curve, though, so you gotta give him some patience. It's not that Webster means to be overdramatic or pretentious, but sometimes he comes across that way, and he can be a little socially awkward because of it. Give him some time and he'll do better (because he would do anything for you), but patience is key while he learns

I hope you like poetry, because at some point, he is going to write some for you. Or just write anything about you. You know that quote about how "if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die"? Yeah, people reading his work hundreds of years from now are going to know exactly how head-over-heels David Webster was for you

Thanks for the request, Anon! I hope you liked this 💕🕊️

[paracausalwraith]

3, 15, 25

music asks! (accepting)

3: A song that reminds you of summertime

Azo Tle Nelli in Tlaticpac? - The Mountain Goats

The entire Zopilote Machine album has a distinct "summer" vibe to me. I used to listen to it when i lived in Southern California and the weather shot above 80, but this song in particular has the feeling of when it's almost too hot to move so you lay splayed out on the floor because you can't stand the feeling of your limbs brushing against each other. And I love that.

15: A song that is a cover by another artist

Fancy - Orville Peck

The original is by Bobbie Gentry i believe, and it was later made more popular by Reba McEntire, but Orville Peck's version is by far my favorite. It's so spacious and haunting and every line hits like a ton of bricks.

One of my favorite things about this cover is Orville changes the line

And staring back from looking glass was a woman where a half-grown kid had stood

To:

Staring back from the looking glass, there stood a woman where a half-grown boy had stood

It's a subtle change but it absolutely devastates me as a trans woman and I love Orville Peck for making it.

25: A song by an artist no longer living

Lioness - Songs: Ohia

This one was tough because thankfully most of the artists I listen to on a daily basis are living. Don't have much to say about this one other than it's tragic that Jason is no longer with us, and im grateful for the music that he left behind.

thank you for sending this in <333333

[avelera]

Asking because you seem to Have Great Thoughts On Fun Media but do we ever see Ed and Izzy actually enjoying each other's company? Is your reading of their relationship a mutually beneficial teamwork thing, or are they actually friends on some level?

Oof, Anon this one is tough for me. I find Izzy fascinating as an antagonist, as a mover of the plot, and as a voice of reason. From a shipping angle (somewhat unrelated, I know) I only see Izzy/Ed as a bellwether of something having gone deeply wrong, as I think a relationship between them, at least as we see them in the show (as opposed to a flashback to the early days which would theoretically contain a dynamic we haven't seen), would be deeply toxic. For example, I would see a Izzy/Kraken!Ed sex scene in S2 as Ed hitting his lowest point, absolute rock bottom of despair and toxicity, in the same way that I would see Stede making a sincere attempt to be Mary's lover and fit into his old life--had she been more receptive to also trying to "make it work" when it would kill them both spiritually to do so (ie, I would be screaming at the screen "No! God no! Oh god please no! No, no, nooo!" ala Steve Carrell in The Office).

I don't feel I've actually formed a coherent opinion about whether or not Ed and Izzy are friends though. As a character functioning within the plot, I think Izzy sees himself as what would be a modern agent to a rockstar for Ed. Basically, doing all the day-to-day stuff so this creative genius can be free to do their thing. But when that creative genius won't do the very basics of making sure the sweet deal they've got going continues (like say, showing up for an autograph session on time, or failing to make a plan so they survive an encounter with the Spanish) then that relationship becomes strained. As I've noted elsewhere, like a rockstar agent, Izzy feels possessive of the "brand" of "Blackbeard" much like a successful agent of an individual star who is also a brand (like Elvis, Elton John, Mick Jagger, etc) would but it would be a thorny sense of possessiveness because "Blackbeard" is kind of a band name for Ed but it's also actually his identity that Izzy feels possessive about. It gets muddled with Izzy doing the work to support this brand, with Ed working to support this brand, but also with Ed being this brand. So Izzy is kind of right to feel protective of that brand but also very invasive for doing so.

Now, have Ed and Izzy ever been friends? Have they ever enjoyed each other's company? Izzy clearly enjoys a degree of familiarity with Ed, he calls him Edward and Ed (something Calico Jack said Ed would literally murder others for doing) which IMO means he's clearly in Ed's close confidence. But, I don't think Ed sees them as equals.

Ed treats Izzy as an employee, to my eyes. A very useful employee. One he literally can't do without and that he trusts with his most important jobs. But still an employee. Think back to him sending Izzy against the man's protests to go fetch Stede himself, Ed ignored Izzy's protests because he wanted the job done right.

Later, Ed sarcastically mocks Izzy for complaining that his job has been hard (something an employer might do, but not a friend). In the same breath, Ed indicates he feels disdain for pirates in general, even those on his own crew, as he seems to see pirates as people who have chosen a life where if they die they knew what they signed up for and don't deserve to be mourned. Possibly as terrible people who have chosen this life, so he has even less sympathy, if my read of his emotion being disdain in that scene is correct.

By the time we see Ed, I get the distinct impression that he finds other pirates repulsive unless they're "doing something original" like Stede. And, without much evidence other than reading between the lines, I'd hazard that Ed's view of pirates might go back all the way to when he first became one (or before). Becoming the best at something doesn't mean you respect your peers. If anything, his own success as a pirate, the close view it gave him of how other pirates behave, may have only deepened his disdain for pirates. After all, Ed doesn't kill and he relies more on fuckery than on brutality (except for maiming) so to his eyes, other pirates might seem a brutish, violent lot not worthy of his time let alone his sympathy or interest.

And Izzy is a pirate. A smarter pirate than the average and able to help Ed's enterprise function, but one who also lacks originality and creativity. Izzy IMO is not spared from being in the group that contains Ed's low view of "[no one] doing anything original out here." Even when asked to do basic creative interpretation like describe the shape of clouds, Izzy is too mission-focused and pragmatic to do anything but bore Ed. And before we say that Izzy is right and Ed is wrong at that moment to be so mission-focused, Izzy didn't do fuck-all to save them from the Spanish that night. It was Stede and Ed's (and Stede's crew's) combined creativity and skill that saved them with the lighthouse fuckery. Izzy appears to have vanished. At the very least, he didn't contribute to the actual saving of the ship that he kept giving Ed so much shit about.

Tragically, I do think Izzy thinks he and Ed are close. I think being the top employee of a creative rockstar like Ed has given him the false impression that he's Ed's friend, rather than that he's friendly with Ed as an employee. (Remember, kids, your company doesn't give a shit about you and will fire you whenever convenient to them, no matter how loyal you are. In this instance, Izzy is the employee and Ed is the company that creates "Blackbeard".)

Ed has let Izzy into his confidence, but as an underling. Izzy thinks he's earned more than that, that he is more than that to Ed. I don't think Ed agrees. Izzy thinks they're partners and Stede is stealing Ed away. Ed sees Izzy as a useful assistant.

Izzy's ability to force "Ed" back into being Blackbeard, or rather the Kraken version of Blackbeard that might be more than Izzy bargained for, is not a result of Ed respecting Izzy. I vehemently disagree with interpretations where Ed's reversion to the Kraken is as a result of Ed being afraid of Izzy. He's never shown any fear of Izzy. Rather, I think Izzy is the annoying alarm clock. He's the harried assistant who has been calling the rockstar every day while he's on vacation and finally shows up to the beach with a clipboard to say time's up, you've got to come back to the real world now. Ed resents Izzy. He resents Izzy's presumed familiarity that he could threaten Ed or assert any kind of power over him and therefore Ed maims Izzy to reestablish the hierarchy.

Were they ever friends? At most, I think they were friendly. I think Ed had a point where he was pleased to discover a fellow pirate who could get shit done, who could function, and worked well with him anticipating his needs and taking care of the grubby parts of the job (including managing the pirates that Ed disdains) so Ed doesn't have to. I could see him being warm to Izzy, charming as he often is, in those early days. I can see that warmth and charm coupled with Blackbeard's terrifying competence, become that heady combination that can only be described as charisma making Izzy feel fortunate that he's allowed so close to the star of the show. I can see that excitement fading into the humdrum of everyday life where he's less awed by Ed and more frustrated when Izzy is called upon again and again to be the voice of reason, to do the grubby job.

I can see Izzy not understanding that no matter how hard he works, he will never be seen as Ed's equal because the way he functions is as a subordinate. He would have to break out of his old habits and become a rockstar in his own way to win any respect or interest from Ed.

Ed respects fellow rockstars: Calico Jack, the Gentleman Pirate, Jim - all self-assured people with their own brand who don't care what the world thinks. Izzy doesn't function that way. Izzy is an assistant, an enforcer, an employee that Ed would desperately like to have some fucking creativity and personality of his own but because he doesn't, he will never rise to be more in Ed's eyes.

And that's my long-winded two-cents ;P

[miekasa]

random boyfriend eren hcs (modern/college au)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern/college au, himbo eren supremacy as per usual, but can you imagine eren, armin, and jean living together in one house bye

↯ notes: this is me once again trying out this headcanon format, also because i have lots of thoughts about eren (being normal) and going to college lmao

↯ more notes: sorry i have to repost this again tumblr is being dumb ://

Not a frat boy, but definitely lives by the mantra “work hard, party harder.”

Likes going out to frat parties and keggers first year, but calms down as time goes on. Sophomore year is more house parties and occasionally going downtown to clubs. By the time junior year rolls around tho, he and Jean are thee party hosts. Homecoming, Halloween, Pre-Thanksgiving break, you name it, those two have a reason to throw a party for it

But party doesn’t always mean absolute rager. Sometimes it’s just drinking with your friends, playing pong, and absolutely crushing Jean at uno. 

At parties with lots of other people, Eren really doesn’t let people fuck around with you, or any of his friends really. Once almost got into a fight because he watched a guy out his hands on yours and Mikasa’s waists to “move around you.” As if. 

Wears his key necklace around all the time, obviously. So he gives you a necklace with a lock on it, with both of your initials engraved on the back. 

Nobody really notices it at first, since the chains are long and the necklaces are you usually tucked inside your shirts. But one day, ever the observant one, Armin catches a glimpse of yours resting on top of your shirt. Cue squinted eyes looking back and forth between you and Eren before—eureka! “You and Eren have matching necklaces!!!”

Plays sports, not for a scholarship but just for fun. Gets very pouty when you can’t make it to his games; and gets extra pouty if you show up, but you’re not wearing his jersey.

On the flip side, gets very giddy when he sees you in the stands with his jersey on and very ostentatiously scoops you up into a hug after the game is over.

Literally does not know where the library is until you show it to him. Any of them. Help him.

The worst person to study with if he doesn’t have any actual work to do. Will bother you and prefer to gossip than to let you do your work in peace. If you need an actual study buddy, you should try Mikasa.

Drunkenly hits on you a lot. Scratch that, he hits on you regardless, drunk or sober, despite the fact that you’re literally dating him already.

Literally reserves at least two nights of the week to have dinner with Armin bye and you couldn’t even interrupt them if you tried.

Waits for you outside of your classroom if you’ve had an important presentation or something. Not always with anything cheesy or loud, but just to be able to cheer you on and congratulate you after.

Hates the act of going grocery shopping, but loves going with you. Also because you force him to buy things other than Anytizers and Kraft Mac and Cheese.

Steals your hair ties and scrunchies to put his hair up. Does not fucking give them back, and denies having them, even if they’re piling up on his wrist.

Will drive you anywhere and everywhere. He is your personal Uber. Even if you don’t want him to be, he would rather die than let you get into an actual Uber—and if it’s late at night? Forget it, Eren doesn’t care if you’re 45 mins away, he’ll come get you.

After you stabbed him with your pen for drawing in your notebook (with your very pristine notes), he started leaving sticky notes inside of them instead.

They’re all super random, usually incoherent, and sometimes just drawings, and you’d never tell him, but you keep every single one.

Cuts class a lot, but not to the point where he’s failing. Just when he feels like it’s deserved, you know? Like, if he attended lecture for a class all week, he deserved to skip Friday’s lecture. As a treat.

He’s embarrassing. Endearing, but so embarrassing. Like, singing in the middle of the street embarrassing. Asking you to do a TikTok in public embarrassing. Why do you even love him.

Moves off-campus during junior year and rooms with Jean and Armin in three-bedroom house. So, he’s never actually lonely, but he’s a little crybaby and will whine to get to you to come over.

LOVES sleeping over at your place, though. Because you live with Annie and Mikasa, so your place is always clean and always smells good. Plus Mikasa and Annie are usually busy, which means you get more privacy at your place.

Mikasa honestly just starts making breakfast for Eren in the mornings when he does sleep over, and Annie is so unfazed by his presence.

Jumps at the opportunity to join in on your girls wine-night or skincare-routine night. So what if it’s him and three other girls drinking red wine with face masks on and talking about Anne Hathaway movies while playing Monopoly Deal? It leaves him pleasantly buzzed and his skin is absolutely glowing, suck his dick, Connie.

Likely doesn’t understand a thing about your major/program but listens enthusiastically when you talk about it anyways.

His lock screen is the only selfie he’s ever convinced you to take with him. (That’s okay because he has many screenshots of your snaps for safekeeping and blackmailing).

Tries to get you to exercise with him. If you’re into that, then great. If you’re not, it’s okay, he always has time to stop and take a mid-workout thirst trap to send your way. Because he’s annoying like that.

Once accidentally replied to the whole class instead of just the professor on an email asking him to be a g and bump his 89.9 to a 90. Embarrassing. (The prof did raise in the end tho, so maybe he really does have some charm to him).

Has to wear reading glasses when studying for a long time/or at his computer for a long time, and even though he doesn’t like them, you think he looks super cute in them; so he wears them more often than usual. 

Calls you asking for the most obscure school supplies/stationary. “Babe, hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare 4x8 poster board laying around now would you?” 

Mind you this is at, like, 3am, 12 hours before the poster board in question is due. 

Speaking of stationary, is an absolute little shit and steals your good pens. He’s partial to the sparkly ones, if he’s being honest. They make his notes look better, fuck you, Jean. 

“Eren, give me back my purple 0.4mm pen.” “I don’t know what that is, sorry.” “Eren, I can see it in your hand!” 

Brings you snacks while you’re studying. If you’re really trying to crack down and be serious, he won’t even bother you. Just bring the snacks, bring you water and boba, kiss your little forehead and be on his way.

Has a polaroid camera he got as a birthday gift, and uses it to sneak pictures of you whenever you’re not looking. He keeps the good ones hung up on a sponge board in his room.

He has a few.... riskier ones too, but those are for his eyes only.

Loves to pick out your nail color when you get your nails done. Honestly gets a little pouty when you don’t ask him lmaoo

Purposely leaves his clothes around so you can wear them. Isn’t subtle about it in the slightest. Sometimes leaves them with a note: “Please wear this, you’d look cute as fuck. Thank you. —Management.”

(slightly nsfw below)

Is not too proud to ask you for risqué snaps. Not necessarily full nudes, thought he doesn’t object to those.

Will literally give you hickeys out of boredom. Will pull you onto his lap and start kissing your neck because he has nothing better to do. Also because it leads to sex 7/10 times. The other 3 times, it’s because he falls asleep with his head in your neck lmaoo

Might have once fucked you with one of his lectures playing in the background, but you’ll never tell.

He really likes phone sex. He’s shit at being quiet, so he can only really do it when Jean and Armin are out of the house, but there’s something about only being able to hear your moans to get off that really does it for him.

He’s kind of goofy and absentminded sometimes, so sometimes you’ll be mid-sex and he’ll look at you like “Hey, did you finish your assignment, it’s due tomorrow right?”

And honestly, you kinda wanna be upset, but then you start thinking—“Did I finish my assignment?” And then you realize you did and nod and he’s like “Ok, cool,” kisses your forehead and resumes where you left off.

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

Will They Won’t They | Part 1/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairing: Reggie Peters x fem!reader

Words: 7000

Summary: Reggie and reader were the best of friends up until middle school where they drifted apart and decided never to speak to each other again. What happens when a shared algebra class and a resulting detention force them to spend and increasing amount of time together. Will it be enough to overcome the mutual hate? Or was the relationship doomed from the start.

WARNINGS: swears, spicy dancing, ANGST

A/N: Okay this is the first of hopefully many collabs between Drea and I! We’re both so excited to share out very long baby with you and hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it! - mimi <3

A/N (2): hi babes it’s drea taking over HAHAHA to repeat what mimi said, we are SO EXCITED to collab and work together to create this SUPER ANGSTY but also SUPER FLUFFY AND FUN fic! your feedback is highly appreciated! and if you like our writing, please like, comment, and reblog! we’d love to hear what you have to say! sending my love! - drea :)

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The night was young in your eyes. All the lights in the (L/N) household were off, aside from the nightlight in your bedroom. Despite it being nearly eleven at night, you and your best friend, Reggie Peters, were far from tired.

The soft humming from the radio was all that could be heard from your room, along with the occasional giggle from you or joke cracked by Reggie. You laid on your bed next to him, your legs tangled in the bedsheets. As much as you loved sleepovers with your best friend, you had to admit that Reggie’s growth spurt did not help your cramped situation.

“Your elbow is jabbing my ribs,” you grumbled, kicking Reggie towards the edge of your bed.

The boy only shoved you back, a playful smirk on his face. “You’re just jealous I’m taller than you now, Cookie,” he said triumphantly.

“I’m jealous you’re taking up all the space on my bed, dork,” you shot back, kicking hard enough to push him over the edge. Reggie let out a yelp before hitting the ground, groaning upon the impact. You fell into a fit of giggles as you peeked over the edge of your bed to see a pair of narrowed blue-green eyes and a scowl. “Sorry, Flicka,” you squeaked.

Reggie glared at you jokingly, rubbing his elbow in pain. “No you’re not,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, I’m not.”

You swung your legs over the edge of your bed, standing up to reach -well almost- Reggie’s height. You frowned at his arm, gingerly taking it into your hands. The boy winced upon first touch, but relaxed in your grasp. “Does it hurt a lot?” you asked in a concerned voice.

Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “It’s whatever,” he responded nonchalantly, but the pain in his voice was visible.

You raised an eyebrow at your best friend. “You don’t have to pretend to be all strong and tough,” you reminded him.

The taller boy sighed, a pout adorning his lips. “I know,” he murmured. “But we’re starting middle school soon. I should be ‘all strong and tough.’”

Snorting, you shook your head. “Who cares about that nonsense?” you exclaimed in a hushed voice. “We all feel pain, that’s not a bad thing. Besides, it’s just me, Flicka. You don’t need to put up an act.”

Reggie’s lips turned upwards as he looked into your eyes. Everything just felt right at the moment. The smile on your face. The redness in his cheeks. The moonlight reached the window and illuminated the room. It was perfect.

The radio, forgotten by the two of you, started to play a new song. Your song.

“You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere”

Glancing up at Reggie, you could both tell you were thinking the exact same thing.

“Dance with me, Flicka?” you asked, giving his hands a squeeze.

Reggie’s face burned in embarrassment as you moved his hand to your waist. “I’m not any good at this, you know that, Cookie,” he muttered, resting his chin on top of your head.

You scoffed, starting to sway along to the music. “Just follow my lead, Reggie. I promise I won’t leave you hanging.”

There, the two of you swayed silently to the music. The moon shined bright from your window, making the blue and green in his eyes shine brighter than usual. Reggie watched as you moved your head so that it laid against his chest. You could hear his heart practically beating out of his chest, making you giggle softly.

“Flicka? you spoke up in a hushed tone. Reggie only hummed in reply. You took a deep breath. “Promise me you’ll never leave me?”

Reggie looked out the window, seeing a glimpse of both of your reflections through the glass. “I’d never leave you, Cookie.”

“You promise?” you whispered.

“I promise.”

That was your first broken promise. The first broken promise upon millions. Reggie told you he’d never leave you, that he’d always be your friend.

Funny how fragile promises can be.

That was nearly seven years ago. The late nights spent doing who knows what, listening to the radio seemed like a distant memory from a past life.

Now your days were spent alone in the library, bent over textbooks determined to ace your classes to get a scholarship and go to a good college. You wouldn’t make your parents pay for that. That was asking too much of them.

You weren’t sure where Reggie was, or what he was doing. Once you both were in middle school, he found himself new friends, and apparently a band, too. Even though you weren’t on speaking terms, you had listened to his music every once in a while. You knew he was destined for big things. Those big things just didn’t include you.

But that was fine. Your entire life wasn’t centred around some boy from your childhood. You had school and your family. So, for you, that meant signing up for all the most challenging classes and studying your ass off for all of them.

You didn’t want to admit it but this class was killing you. Your pride always got in the way. Most of the time, you believed you were capable of passing every class with flying colours. But, there was no denying this class was more difficult than the others. How were you supposed to know what effects the Great Depression had on farmers of that era? You weren’t them and they were all dead.

Your tired eyes drifted over to the clock and you sighed as you realized what time it was. Packing your things, you left the library and dragged your feet to your algebra class.

Sitting patiently in the front row while your teacher explained the lesson plan you barely even registered the faint knock on the door frame, but when you turned your head up your expression changed from one neutral to a scowl.

He hadn’t changed a bit. Aside from the whole outfit -he definitely switched his old sports sweatshirts for leather jackets sometime in freshman year- he was the same old Reggie Peters. The same dark hair, piercing blue-green eyes, and rosy red cheeks.

“Um, sorry I’m supposed to be in algebra with Mr. Milenika, I just got transferred.” the dark hair teen said, running a hand through his hair and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, Mr. Peters correct?”

Reggie nodded wordlessly. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Not from nerves, but is pure hatred for the boy. He couldn’t be in this class. He just couldn’t. Why would the universe do that to you?

“Very well, take a seat.”

Reggie walked into the class, eyeing where to take a seat when he noticed the only open spot was next to you.

His features hardened and he threw his bag down next to the empty desk, pulling out the chair and sitting in it with a loud thump.

“Flicka,” you spat.

“Cookie,” he nodded with a hiss in return.

“Great, I take it you two know each other?” Mr. Milenika asked, unaware of the drama that was associated with whatever relationship you and Reggie had. It was a stretch to say you even had one.

You and Reggie gave him a bitter “Yes.”

Mr. Milenika, never one who was ever good at differentiating bitterness and normal answers, beamed at the two.

“Good, because even though this is a math class, I will make you work with your partner quite often. So I suggest you get to know whoever is sitting next to you.” Your body stiffened. As if it couldn’t get any worse, Mr. Milenka never failed to disappoint.

Mr. Milenika continued on, explaining the rest of the plan for the class, but you seemed unable to concentrate, entirely focused on the boy who was now sitting next to you. With his stupid face and stupidly strong cologne, you couldn’t focus at all on whatever was on the board. It was as though you were in a haze, and all you could think about was him.

It had been years since you’d last spoken, not to mention you barely saw him in the halls anymore. He was notorious for skipping class to go rehearse with his so-called band while you were quite the opposite. Never missing a day, no matter what it took.

“Never thought you were one for staring,” he whispered under his breath and you scoffed.

“Oh so we don’t talk for seven years and you think now’s a good time to start?”

“Yeah, I do, cause then I could tell you how stupid those shoes look,”

“I’m literally just wearing converse, you are too Reginald,” you spat.

“Shut up!” he said, raising his voice slightly.

“You first!” you said, voice becoming louder. Was it a childish comeback? Perhaps, but you weren’t one to back down, no matter how stupid your comebacks were.

Now the whole class was listening, even Mr. Milenika had stopped teaching to observe what was going on with his students and just as he was about to intervene it seemed the debate had gotten worse.

“Me? shut up? You’re the one who was always bossing me around and telling me what to do! I could never get in a word with you!” Reggie snapped back.

“That’s because you were too thick-skulled to listen to anything I had to say!” you hissed, not realizing the audience you had. “Who knows Flicka maybe if you had you wouldn’t have failed this class last term!”

“That was uncalled for!” Reggie exclaimed, now standing from his chair. “And it’s not my fault the tutor bailed on me because it was a conflict of interest. This isn’t Judge Judy (Y/N)! If anything it’s your fault!”

“You manipulative little asshole!”

“Suck up!”

“Motherf-,”

“That’s enough!” Mr. Milenika yelled over both of you, causing you to shrink and turn to look at the very angry teacher. “Never in my years of teaching have I seen such barbaric behaviour! That’s two months' detention. Both of you! Now go to Mrs. Hillside’s office, immediately.”

Reggie angrily grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, kicking a stray chair on his way out while you followed close behind in a much quieter fashion.

You had no words as you entered the principal’s office, sitting across from her desk while Reggie took the seat next to yours.

It was your first day back from the holiday. Your first day back and you finally had a conversation with your childhood best friend in seven years and got two months of detention with said childhood best friend. Your heart ached at the thought of the big flaw printed on your record. You only had Reggie to blame.

Purposefully, you shuffled away from him and he rolled his eyes as Mrs. Hillside finished her phone conversation with Mr. Milenika.

“Disrupting a class?” The woman exclaimed. “Foul language? Damaging school property?” Your face burned at each accusation.

Mrs. Hillside glared at you. “Ms.(L/N),” she addressed with a frown. “I did not expect such reckless and irresponsible behaviour from a promising student like you. I’m greatly disappointed.”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “Please don’t make it go on my record,” you whimpered, your voice cracking.

The woman pressed her lips together. “You’re lucky this is your first detention, Ms.(L/N).” You released the breath you had no idea you were holding.

“Kiss ass,” Reggie muttered.

You narrowed your eyes at the boy, prepared to shoot back another comeback when your principal had something far better.

“I find that rich from you, Mr. Peters,” she laughed humorlessly. “Remind me, how many detentions did you have last term?” The boy’s cheek flushed, instantly shutting his mouth. You held back a laugh as to not get a snapback of your own from the teacher. “Now as much as this is infuriating, you both do have a class that I believe would be in your best interest not to miss. So we’ll draw up a schedule for these two months of detention and then you can return to your class in an orderly fashion. You understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded and Reggie just shrugged, if he blew this for you, well let’s just say there wouldn’t be any evidence of the crime.

“So let’s make this three days a week for two months. Thursday, Friday and Saturday and the hours will vary from time to time depending on the tasks you need to complete.”

“Three times a week?” Reggie exclaimed. “Mrs. Hillside, I have band practice-”

“And I’m losing my patience,” she cut him off. “Now go back to class before I make it four detentions a week.”

You squeaked a quiet “Thank you” before picking up your things and leaving the principal’s office. Speeding down the hallways, you didn’t hear Reggie catching up close behind you. When you saw a blur of black and red in the corner of your eye, you fought the urge to turn your head.

“Stupid Reggie Peters,” you muttered under your breath. “Stupid algebra class. Stupid Mr. Milenka and his stupid detention. Stupid-”

“Are you talking to me, Cookie?” Reggie spoke up, making you jump in surprise. By that time, you were already at the door of your algebra class.

You pressed your binder close to your chest, shooting the boy a pointed glare. “I hate you,” you said, opening the door just enough for you to slip through and slam in Reggie’s face.

You didn’t dare speak when you returned back to class, not wanting to try your luck and possibly extend your already long detention.

Reggie seemed to be thinking the same thing, possibly except he didn’t have his record on the line it was that stupid band practice of his. If he had spent as much time studying as he did practicing maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation because he would have passed the class in the first place.

You knew that you’d need to spend time catching up tonight so you didn’t even bother paying attention to the lesson. Anger bubbled in your chest as you mindlessly wrote notes for the class, not processing anything at all. Occasionally, you would notice a pair of blue-green eyes staring at you, only for them to turn back to the board each time you would look back.

You couldn’t even look each other in the eye. How were you supposed to last two months of detention with him?

Finally, the bell rang and allowed you to escape the confinement that was the loud stares of your classmates as you headed to your first assigned detention. Cleaning up the backroom of the library.

Reaching the library, you were met with the librarian, Mr. Mallard. The old man was hunched over a box filled with books, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. It seemed as though he didn’t realize you were right behind him, so you awkwardly cleared your throat.

Mr. Mallard jumped, turned around to see you nervously waving at him. “Oh, Ms. (L/N), I didn’t see you there.” You waved his comment off.

“Not a problem,” you said with a kind smile. You mentally let out a sigh of relief. Good thing Mr. Mallard was nicer than the rest of the teachers here.

“I was just listening to music,” he explained, nodding at the radio playing soft music. He looked back at you. “You know I used to be a dancer back in my day? Now, I got this bad back, so I’m stuck here with you rascals.” You laughed at the man as he tried to snap his fingers and sway his hips to the music. “Ah, I got too carried away, sorry, dear. Now I must be getting old because I could have sworn there were supposed to be two of you here with me.”

You nodded, looking around for the boy in a leather jacket and red flannel, but came up empty. “He must be running late,” you told him.

Mr. Mallard frowned. “Well, I guess we can wait for him,” he settled, sitting down on his desk chair. “Feel free to take a seat over there until he comes in.”

Reggie came in a few minutes later, tossing his bag onto one of the chairs and placing his bass guitar on the table.

“The usual Mr. Mallard?” Reggie asked and the older man gave him a nod. It seemed Reggie had become familiar with the library as you had, just in a different way. “Well what are you waiting for?” he looked at you unimpressed. “The faster we start the faster we leave.”

You didn’t say a word, only followed him into the back room where you’d be organizing some old books, boxes and trophies

You stepped into the room, squinting at the shadows of assorted boxes. It was completely dark.

“Well, come on, Cookie,” Reggie said, giving you a shove. “We don’t have all day.”

You took in a shaky breath. “It’s dark,” you pointed out.

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think we’ve established that,” he said. “Let’s just find the light switch and start cleaning.”

You nodded, blindly searching along the walls for that damn switch. Not noticing the small box on the floor, you kicked it aside, spilling all sorts of books onto the floor. You squeaked in fear, grabbing the first thing in sight. Of course, that had to be Reggie’s hand.

You whipped your head around, face red in embarrassment. Lucky for you the darkness of the room prevented him from seeing that. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Reggie scoffed at you. “Still scared of the dark?” he asked in a teasing voice.

“Still sleep with that horse plushie of yours?” you shot back.

Reggie glared at you but didn’t say anything else. Without letting go of your hand he flicked on the switch and the room filled with a dim orange hue.

“You can let go now,” you said, trying to shimmy your hand away from his, only prompting him to grip harder.

“What are you scared of me now?” he asked with a smirk and you scowled, ripping your hand away from his.

“Let’s just clean, like you said, the faster we get this done the faster we can go home.”

The room was silent aside from the noises of books falling against the floor, making a quiet thud. You made a small area of your own in the back of the room, a stack of boxes hiding your view of Reggie. But from the lack of noises made in his part of the room, you could tell he wasn’t doing anything productive.

You poked your head out of your small space, frowning at the boy. He was sitting on the floor, slouching as he scribbled on a dusty piece of paper.

“Hey!” you called out, throwing an old yearbook in his direction.

Reggie barely ducked in time, sitting up and turning in your area. “What the hell?” he yelled.

“We’re supposed to be working on cleaning this room!” you snapped. “You aren’t doing shit, Flicka.”

“I did clean,” he muttered. “I just had an idea for the band-”

“That stupid band! Why can’t you just stop for once in your life and focus on what’s in front of you,” you scowled, frustrated that even now you were the one stuck doing all the work. Seemed like maybe things hadn’t changed much from seven years ago.

“Maybe if you loosened a screw or two we wouldn’t need to have this conversation,”

“Just shut up Reginald, you have no idea what it means to take responsibility for something. You haven’t changed and you never will.”

Reggie was about to come back with a retort when the door to the backroom swung open and Mr. Mallard came in with a smile on his face.

“Could I get you kids some snacks?” he asked kindly.

“Always, you’re the man Mr. M.” Reggie grinned, completely ignoring you and giving the librarian a high five from where he sat on the ground.

“I’m good Mr. Mallard,” you shook your head and he left you both with a nod of his head and promised to be back with some assortment of fruits and such.

After your first detention, it was safe to say that all hope of fixing your friendship with Reggie went down the drain. It seemed as though every hour you spent with him gave you all the more reasons to throttle him and be glad he stopped talking to you back in middle school.

—

Detentions became just another regular part of your week, integrated with your studying and your part-time job at the cafe. So you were more than happy to take a minute and walk back home where you could take a minute to rest.

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

“Reggie!” a voice yelled. You took a deep breath as you tried to make yourself invisible. It was his friends, Luke, Alex, and Bobby. The friends he left you for.

Reggie’s face lit up as he walked past you, running over to his friends. “Hey guys!” he said with a toothy grin. “What are you doing here?”

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “We thought we might as well give you a ride to practice since we were already around here for lunch,” he explained nonchalantly.

Bobby sent his friend a glare. “You mean I gave you a ride,” he corrected, gesturing to the keys in his hand.”

Luke waved his comment off. “Details. Oh, who’s that?” Luke asked pointing over to you and you tried to pick up your pace before he eventually made his way to you.

“That’s just (Y/N),” Reggie shrugged. “We have detention together.” Luke approached you with an overexcited pep in his step. You tried to back away as subtly as possible, but you were stopped by a wall.

“You’re adorable!” he grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder while you looked at him in a sort of odd confusion. “Your face is so cute and pink, kind of like a bunny! You know, growing up I had this bunny for a pet named Carrot. We’re adopting you, right boys?”

You ducked under his arm, trying to stay as polite as possible. “Oh, I’d love to be your friend and all,” you began nervously. “But um...I just have things to do and-”

“We’re. Adopting. You,” Luke said in a sickly sweet but firm voice. “Right boys?”

As you tried to slip out of his grasp and walk away, Alex, who was also coincidentally your lab partner, called out from the van.

“Hey (N/N), you need a ride?”

“No thanks! I’m fine walking,” you called back, but Luke didn’t want to take no for an answer. He ran up in front of you and scooped you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder causing you to shriek in surprise.

“We’re taking you with us! Who knows what kind of dangerous types are wandering around LA.”

“At the moment I would think you’re one of them!” you exclaimed, squirming to have him put you down, before finally giving up when he tossed you in the van. “Could this constitute a kidnapping? I feel like it’s a kidnapping. Can I call the police?”

Reggie followed close behind the two of you, clearly not liking this at all. He had already spent enough time with you in detention. Now you’re with his friends? He took the backseat, right behind you. “Dude, come on,” Reggie said as Luke fastened your seatbelt before patting the top of your head. You shot the guitarist a glare. “I really don’t want to be arrested for kidnapping. Especially since it’s her. Lord knows she’ll manage to pin the charges on me.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Nonsense,” he said. “We’re not kidnapping her. We’re making friends!”

“That’s not how making friends works, Patterson!” you yelled as he slid the van door closed.

While they were making their way to your house Luke seemed to glance at the time on the dash and gasped.

“Shit! Guys turn around we’re gonna be late for practice!”

“Practice, you said you were taking me home!” you exclaimed. “This is actually a kidnapping now! Flicka your friends suck!”

“Sorry Lady Bunny,” Luke shrugged and you whined.

Reggie groaned and banged his head on the seat in front of him while Bobby took a definitely illegal u-turn to go where they normally had their rehearsals.

The car stopped in front of a fairly nice house with a big studio. The boys filed out, leaving you grumbling in the back seat. Luke opened the door, bowing dramatically.

“Lady Bunny,” Luke said, reaching his hand out to you.

You scowled at the boy, crossing your arms on your chest. “I want to go home,” you muttered.

“No can do, Lady Bunny,” Luke said with a shrug of his shoulders. “We have practice to do.”

“Then I’ll walk home,” you whined.

Luke laughed at your frustrated face. “Can’t let you do that either,” he told you. “Besides, you’re too little and innocent to brave the world on your own.” Luke reached for your cheek, patting it softly until you turned your head and bit his finger. “Ouch!”

“Yeah, bunnies bite, dick head. This is holding an innocent party against their will and you will do jail time,”

“(N/N), just stick around this once, I’ll make sure you get home later,” Alex offered and you slouched in your seat and mumbled a “Fine,”

Alex patted your back and led you into the large studio where there was a girl with frizzy brown curly hair, sitting on a couch.

“Finally! What took you guys so long!” she sighed and stood up.

“We adopted a bunny, Rose!” Luke grinned and hugged you from behind tucking your chin in his shoulder. You rolled your eyes and mouthed help me, to the girl and she scrunched her nose as if to say, ‘sorry honey there isn’t anything I can do.’

Luke pulled you to the couch and sat you down. “Now you stay there while we practice, okay bunny?” he said, patting your head.

“If you’re good we might give you snacks,” Bobby added from behind Luke, snickering under his breath.

Rose shot both boys a pointed look. “Cut that out, you two,” she ordered. Rose sat next to you, patting your knee. “Can I get you anything? Water? A snack? You don’t have to do a flip for treats or whatever.”

You laughed in response, nervously playing with the hem of your sweater. “I’m fine, thank you,” you responded politely. “If anything I just want a ride home.”

Rose frowned, leaning against the pillow cushions. “I’d give you a ride but my sister took the car for today,” she explained apologetically. Rose could sense the awkward tension, and wanted to break the ice. “So which one of them is your boyfriend?”

You choked on air, not expecting her question. For once, you were thankful the band was blasting music. “I’m sorry?” you coughed, causing Rose to reach over to grab a water bottle from the table and offer it to you. You took a big gulp, sighing. “What made you think that?”

Rose hummed as she thought of her answer. “Well, you’re way too nervous around me,” she began. “And the boys all keep on looking at you. Alex is not your boyfriend because he’s currently talking to this guy in my English class. Bobby...definitely isn’t your type, now that I look at you. I considered Luke for a moment but he’s way too dedicated to music to date anyone but his six-string, you also just seemed way too annoyed by him, but what’s new. And now that leaves Reggie.” she looked over at the boy playing the bass. Reggie, who apparently was watching the two of you talk, quickly ducked his head, his cheeks visibly red. “You two have history, don’t you?”

You froze, eyes widening. “How did you-”

“I think you forgot we were in the same homeroom since fourth grade,” she laughed. “You and Reggie, you guys were glued at the hip. Don’t you have nicknames for each other or something?”

“I-I guess,” you shrugged, it wasn’t really something you used as a term of endearment anymore, but it was still there. “He was Flicka and I was Cookie,”

“Did you date?” she asked curiously, leaning in closer.

“No,” you shook your head. “Just friends. Used to be.” you corrected and Rose frowned, but before she could ask another question you stopped her. “If I have to sit here and wait for Alex to take me home you think we could talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Rose nodded, “Well in that case I think you should come around here more often,”

“What do you mean?” you nervously chuckled.

“I don’t know, I just think we’d be pretty good friends,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, smiling at the warm feeling bubbling inside you. “Yeah,” you agreed in a quiet voice. “I’m starting to think so, too.”

—

“And then he told me I was annoying!” you hissed, angrily scribbling the data of your experiment onto your notebook. “Can you believe that? Him!”

Alex anxiously watched you as you reached for a pipette, squeezing the poor thing like it stole your money. “Really?” Alex only said in a shaky voice.

You nodded furiously, taking the indicator, not even caring to count out your drops and just pouring the purple liquid haphazardly into the Erlenmeyer flask.

“He’s-He’s just a… argh! I can’t stand him!” you waved your hands almost knocking over the whole buret and ring stand with a very strong molarity composition of hydrochloric acid in it causing Alex to let out a strangled yelp from the back of his throat.

“C-can you please at least stay ten feet away from the table?” he requested. “You’re going to either break something or send me to the hospital with an acid burn and I really would prefer if that didn’t happen.”

You placed your materials down, glaring at the blond boy. “What are you talking about?” you snapped, not meaning to take your anger out on your friend (and chemistry experiment, at that).

Alex placed his hands up in the air in defence. “Just-” he swallowed loudly, trying to think of the right words. “Maybe take a deep breath? I know Reggie gets you all angry and stuff, but please don’t put our lives and chemistry grade on the line.”

“Makes me mad is a fucking understatement,” you grumbled.

“Okay, we can start there,” Alex began, slowly moving the materials far away from you. “I think it’s reasonable and incredibly understandable that you dislike him. But do you really hate him?”

You scowled. “Yes, Alexander,” you said in a scarily calm voice. “As a matter of fact, I do. He’s a fucking pain in my ass and can go fuck himself for all I care. He’s rude, inconsiderate, and selfish beyond belief.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Alex, you’re not my therapist, stop acting like you have every right to be in my business when you don’t know a single thing about me!”

Alex didn’t respond to that comment, fearing what you might say next. You paused, noticing Alex’s uneasiness. “I’m sorry,” you only mumbled.

He nodded wordlessly, gently placing his hand over yours. “Don’t worry about it, (N/N),” he reassured you.

Silence followed, aside from the quiet mumbling of instructions for the experiment. Minutes in, you finally decided to break the silence.

“Because he left me,” you whispered in a broken voice.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?” he said, genuinely not hearing you.

You sighed, placing your pencil and notebook down. “He left me for your stupid band. He got friends and I got nothing,” you explained further. You removed your glasses, wiping away a stray tear. “I probably shouldn’t even be mad at him, at this point. He’s moved on...and got popular and actually has something going on for himself. And me?” You laughed humorlessly at yourself. “I work a job to help mom and dad pay the bills and work my ass off so I can go to school and make a life for myself. No one told me trying for success would be so lonely.”

“(Y/N),” Alex said, frowning slightly.

You shook your head. “But he’s happy, isn’t he?” you asked. “Reggie. He’s smiling wider than I’ve ever seen before. Singing and playing the bass, dancing his heart out on stage. He never used to do those things with me.” You looked away from Alex, unable to take his pitiful gaze. “He’s changed while I’ve stayed the same. I’m stuck here, still moping about my past. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he is better off without me.”

“He’s not,” Alex said without even thinking.

“How could you say that? He’s clearly happier. It’s not like you can pretend you don’t see that,”

“But he’s not. He just replaced what he had, his friendship with you, with music. I might not know him as well as you, but it’s his coping mechanism. It hides all the bad things in life that he chooses not to deal with,”

“Reggie’s not like that,” you shook your head, refusing to believe what Alex was saying.

Alex, starting to get frustrated, slammed his hands on the edge of the table. “Dammit, (Y/N) can you just realize for one second that you don’t hate Reggie and that Reggie doesn’t hate you?” Your mouth remained closed, so Alex took it as an opportunity to push further. “You two talk my ears off about each other more than you realize. It’s always “Reggie did this” or “(Y/N) did that” can’t you two get your heads out of your asses and see that?”

“C-Can you take care of this, I’m just going to run to the washroom,” you murmured, not waiting for a response. You took off your goggles, gloves and lab coat, making your way to the courtyard, contrary to where you said you were going. Pulling your MP3 player out of your pocket you threw on a pair of battered headphones and turned the volume all the way up clicking on the familiar track of Fast Car maybe you couldn’t run away physically, but right now, your heart sure needed a break.

—

“You two will be with Mrs. Leona today in the dance room,”

“What does she need?” you asked with much confusion. Normally Saturdays were used for either sitting in silence or cleaning up some area of the school.

“She needs help choreographing the dance she’s going to use for the sophomore class next semester,” Mrs. Hillside explained. “Now go on, get dressed and meet her in the dance room.”

You and Reggie walked away to the locker rooms. A scowl was plastered on the boy’s face. “These detentions are getting more and more ridiculous each day,” he muttered.

Scoffing, you crossed your arms on your chest. “Well, that’s something we both can agree on.”

You parted ways for a short time to get changed before meeting back up again in the dance room where Mrs. Leona was already setting up and waiting for you both.

“Perfect! So glad you guys could make it,” she grinned.

“We have detention,” Reggie noted. “Not really much of a choice,” You shot the boy a glare, elbowing him roughly in the ribs.

“Right,” she chuckled. “Well, I’m working on a routine for my sophomores. Apparently, they think we’re doing the same thing over and over again so I’m going to give them something new for a change. I was thinking a partner assignment would work best.”

You and Reggie nodded as Mrs. Leona walked over to the stereo, popping in a CD and playing All That She Wants in the background on repeat while she would lead the stretches.

“Isn’t this song a little inappropriate to have sophomores dancing to? Or like even just to play in school?” you asked as you followed along.

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s what you ask,” he muttered.

Mrs. Leona waved off your comment. “It’s fine,” she insisted. “It’s an upbeat song, and it’s “in,” so might as well give the kids a fun assignment.”

“Mrs. Leona, what kind of dance moves are you thinking?” Reggie asked curiously. “Because I’m not that good of a dancer and (Y/N) is practically so old she could break her hip by breathing.”

“I’m not old,” you snapped, crossing your arms on your chest.

“You sure act like it,” he shot back.

“You bit-”

“Enough talking!” Mrs. Leona cut you both off. “More dancing. Now I have a couple of ideas for you two, so make sure you’re really stretched out so you don’t pull something.”

You groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “What did I get myself into?”

—

“It’s a simple concept!” Mrs. Leona insisted after the millionth attempt. “You two are just so awkward with each other.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Can you just explain it again, please?” you requested.

Mrs. Leona sighed, standing up to show you the dance sequence. “Reggie, take her hand and bring it to your lips. Step away, and (Y/N) you pull him back. Then Reggie turn so that you and (Y/N) are facing each other. At that point, you grab him by the shirt while he takes your waist, then he twirls you and goes in to dip you. Simple enough!”

Simple to maybe a Rockette, but not to a bassist and an awkward bookworm.

“Let’s take it from there, okay guys?”

You grumbled to yourself, positioning yourself in front of the boy. “This is way too much,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“Just shut up and do what she says,” Reggie hissed. “I don’t want to be any closer to you than I have to.”

When the music started playing, you felt Reggie’s fingertips trace down your arm to your hand, unknowingly creating a trail of goosebumps. Weaving his fingers with yours, he brought your intertwined hands up to his face, his lips ever so gently grazing your hand.

On beat, Reggie started to walk away from you, only for you to pull him back. His eyes met yours as you brought your other hand to his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt in your fist. You watched as he dropped his hand to your waist before pulling away to twirl you. The moment he pulled you back into his chest, you saw his cheeks redden. You were so close, close enough to smell that stupidly distracting cologne of his. You knew Reggie was just as flustered. His hand was getting clammy in yours. Before you could even process it, he dipped you down, making you gasp in surprise.

You didn’t even notice the music had stopped. All that was on your mind at that moment was Reggie. His eyes flicked down to yours, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

The loud clapping coming from Mrs. Leona had snapped you out of your trance. Immediately regaining his composure, Reggie loosened his grip on you. You fell to the ground, hitting your elbow upon impact.

“Ass,” you muttered, rubbing your elbow in pain.

“If you’re saying I’ve got a good one then I agree,” he smirked and you scoffed loudly.

Mrs. Leona walked up to the two of you. “That was probably the best dancing I’ve seen from the two of you all morning,” she applauded. “And for that, you can take a five-minute break,”

“Oh thank God,” you whispered and flopped onto the ground, trying to relax your muscles. You tried to pull one leg over the other, stretching it out, but unable to turn properly in order to pull the tension out of your muscle.

Your eyes were closed so you didn’t notice Reggie coming closer and kneeling toward you, placing a hand on your thigh and pushing it down for you, causing you to open your eyes and see him practically leaning over top of you.

“Ow! Fuck! Too much,” you hissed and he loosened his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping you stretch, you’re ancient so I thought I might be able to lend a hand,”

“Get your hand off me,” you said seriously.

“What,” he grinned, lifting his hand higher and causing your breath to hitch and slap his hand away and sit up, scooching back.

“Fuck off Flicka,” you said, the words barely able to leave your mouth, throat turning dry.

“Only trying to help, Cookie,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He looked over at your arm, seeing as you winced with every movement. “Does it hurt a lot?”

You cradled your elbow. “It’s whatever,” you mumbled in response, unconsciously mimicking his answer.

Reggie scoffed, leaning back on his hands. “Say what you want, Cookie, but I know when you’re lying. You can’t pretend around me.” You paused, vaguely remembering that night with the radio.

“I said I’m fine, Reggie,” you insisted firmly.

“Just let me see it,” he asked, crawling over to you, prompting you to scoot all the way back until you hit the mirror. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he frowned.

“That’s what you said seven years ago but I’ve learnt the hard way to take promises from you with a grain of salt,” you said venomously.

Reggie paused, moving back to his spot, far away from you. “Fine,” he simply said. “But don’t act like you were the only victim. I got hurt, too.”

You opened your mouth to respond when Mrs. Leona walked back into the room with three water bottles. “Well, I’m back. Are you two rested enough to continue?”

You shook your head. “Mrs. Leona, um I think it’s probably time we head back to Mrs. Hillside���s office,” you suggested. “It’s erm, late and I hurt my elbow, so…”

Mrs. Leona nodded understandingly. “Yes, of course, I forgot how much time had passed. You two work so well together, I might as well keep you guys in my class!” You laughed nervously before grabbing your things and waving goodbye. You didn’t bother looking back at Reggie. There was nothing left to say.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.

📝: ERICAAA!!! FRICKIN FINALLY!! Less important note, but when writing about Y/n, El and Max, I wrote "the three friends" and autocorrect literally changed "friends" to "fruits". Yelmax confirmed 💀

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder's Office," Robin reports, unfurling what looked to be a familiar layout on the break room table. "Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints."

"Not bad," Dustin smirks from her left.

"So this is us," she points to a familiar-looking room before gesturing across the map. "Scoops, and this is where we wanna get."

"Yeah, I don't really see a way in," Steve mumbles from his seat at the table.

"There's not. If,"

She rips away a layer of the blueprint, revealing a vastly complicated map of air ducts, pipelines, and detailing that made up Starcourt.

"you're talking exclusively about doors."

Dustin looks at her with excitement growing in his eyes. "Air ducts!"

"Exactly," she smirks, making her way to the whiteboard to retrieve the magic marker. "Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room and these air ducts lead all the way" she circles the secret room in question, drawing one, interrupted line right back to, "here."

Dustin and Steve finally tear their eyes away from the map and follow Robin's mischievous eye. All the way to the air duct tucked away in the far corner of the Scoops Ahoy break room.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

To their surprise, a screwdriver had been harder to find than a ladder but soon enough Steve had managed to reach the air vent and unscrew it from the wall. But as he stood here now, peering down into the vent he quickly realized they were now facing yet another obstacle.

"Flath'ligh'?" Steve asked, finally removing the screwdriver from his mouth and shaping it for the small torchlight Dustin had waiting. "Thank you,"

The flashlight turns on with a tiny click and a soft yellow light bounces down the narrow metal tunnel, enunciation the frown on Steve's face.

"Yeah, I don't know man, I don't know if you can fit in here, it's like... super tight."

"I'll fit," Dustin smirks. "Trust me. No collarbones, remember?"

"Uh, excuse me?" Robin asks.

Steve jumps down from the ladder, turning to Robin as Dustin begins the climb and gives her a nod.

"Oh, he's uh, he's got so disease," he frowns thoughtfully, racking his brain as he tries to recall the word. "It's chrydo... um... something, yeah I don't know. He's missing bones and stuff, he can bend like Gumbo."

"You mean... Gumby?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Gumbo," he snorts.

"Just shut up and push me!" Comes Dustin's muffled voice from the vents.

By now he had wormed himself halfway in, his bottom half sticking out of the wall and still propped up on the latter while they had been talking.

"Okay,"  Steve huffed, motioning knowingly to the kid's feet and turned away from Robin.

She watched with a tired, lazily bemused expression as Steve grabbed a less than sturdy hold of the kid's feet and attempted to push.

"Not my feet, dumbass, push my ass!"

"Uh, what?"

"TOUCH MY BUTT! I DON'T CARE!" Came Dustin's impatient scream from the walls.

With a heavy grimace, Steve hesitantly began pushing against Dustin's rear end and his muffled anger grew louder.

"I'm pushing!" Steve argued.

"PUSH HARDER!" Dustin shrieks as he attempts to inch further into the metal vents. "You're playing with my legs!"

"I'm not playing, I have terrible footing!"

"Come on!"

Steve finally makes it to the top of the latter, Dustin's legs bunched together over his shoulders and locked under his arm as their voice continued to shout over one another.

"I'm gonna just shove you, ready?"

"Just shove me?"

"One, two..."

"Shit!"

"That work?"

"One more time,"

Robin rolls her eyes, finally turning away when she hears the sudden rapid chimes of the customer bell out front and all too familiar patron.

"Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck!"

Through the partition window, Robin meets eyes with none other than Erica Sinclair who flashes her an exaggerated salute and rings the bell knowingly.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Laughter and joyful screams filled the chlorine-soaked air, the smell of the pool lingering with sunblock was strong enough it wafted all the way to the parking lot where the majority of the Party now stood at the Hawkins pool. It looked quite different than it had the day before when Y/n, Max, and El had last been, but the tension weighing down the atmosphere seemed just as heavy and ever-present.

The storm had of course long since lifted, and the sun was now beating down heavily on their backs as they took shelter behind a Rust Red AMC Hornet, all eyes across the lot on the occupant in the lifeguard chair.

Billy.

He was squished underneath the bright red beach umbrella, hidden underneath a baseball cap, thick shades, a long-sleeved sweater, and a white beach towel draped over his legs where they poked out into the sun. He was completely covered.

"I don't know," Max begins, peering through the group's binoculars. "He looks pretty normal to me,"

"Normal?" Lucas scoffs. "How many times have you seen him with a shirt on?"

Y/n smiles weakly from where she stands in between him and Will. Max lowers the binoculars, conceding a wince.

"I mean, it's a little weird,"

"More than a little," Mike nods. "He was in a tub with ice. The Mind Flayer likes it cold. Plus everything El saw—"

"But he's lounging at the pool," Max argues, doubtfully. "Which is like, the least Mind Flayer thing ever,"

"Not necessarily," Will says, pulling everyone's attention. "The Mind Flayer likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me. It's like... like you're dormant. And then, when he needs you,"

All eyes return to Billy.

"...you're activated."

Y/n gulps, shifting on her feet from where she had previously stood rooted to the spot. Ever since that dreaded Halloween night the previous year, nothing seemed to have been the same. The Mind Flayer had set his sights on Will, and in turn, her. Slowly but surely, he had infected all of their lives as he had the town of Hawkins; spreading his rot and poison, and his hate. She could still feel it sometimes; the pain of Will's nails raking into her face and leaving behind the faded scar that had already long since disappeared.

Her eyes dart back through the fence at the suspicious-looking lifeguard and her insides twisted further into a sickening knot. The thought of the Mind Flayer's possible return was enough to drain the color from her face and leave a chill in the humid, sticky summer air. Her mind was running rapid with fear but the sound of Max's voice was enough to return her to earth.

"Okay, so we just..." she shrugs, looking back over towards her brother. "wait until he gets activated."

"No," Mike says with the shake of his head. "What if he hurts someone?"

"Or kills someone?" Will counters, and the Wheeler boy nods.

"We can't take that chance. We need to find out if he's the host,"

"Well, how do we do that?" Lucas asks.

The Party falls silent. The weight of the air growing heavier and heavier as it dawns on them. And one by one, each pair of eyes trickle over to the only present Henderson sibling in the Party. Her head is hung, propped-up against the hood and when she senses the eyes on her she straightens, breathing a sigh. But Will was already shaking his head.

"What? No, no way," he says to Mike and the others, Y/n already turning to him. "No, Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea,"

"I don't like it either," Y/n fretted. "but it's our best chance. The Mind Flayer hates me, and I can push his limits. It's the fastest way."

"And if, by some random chance, Billy isn't the host?" Will countered gently. "He'd find out about you,"

Y/n didn't have a reply for that. Truthfully, she didn't know whether to be relieved or angered he had cornered her. She just stood there, frowning at the concrete sidewalk biting her lip thoughtfully. She tried to think of a way to use her abilities subtly, but all her experience with heat came from seismic blasts or concentrated bursts from her hands. If she attempted that on Billy, he would surely know it.

"There's gotta be another way," Mike cuts in. "I mean, a safe way that doesn't risk you getting hurt or discovered."

Y/n and Will - even El - shoot him a funny look and he shifts under the sudden attention, guiltily.

"What about the sauna?" Lucas says, lighting up.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, it's perfect!" He grins, stepping out from around the car and motioning for Will and Mike. "Come on,"

Seemingly catching onto Lucas's idea, Mike wastes no time in following. And Will hesitantly steps away, sending Y/n and his friends an apologetic shrug.

"Where are you going?" El called after them, exasperated.

"Sorry! Boys only!" Mike throws over his shoulder.

Max scowls after them. "Seriously?!"

"Just trust us!" Lucas cries.

"We'll be back," Will shrugs again. "... I guess."

The three friends sigh, throwing less than impressed looks at the retreating boys. Privately, Y/n wondered if Mike stood any chance of harm just from her glaring at him in this moment. She hadn't shared these feelings with anyone, but since reuniting with Will something had been troubled Ling him and he wouldn't say what. She could spot it right away, the shift in demeanor but she knew it was something different from the return of the Mind Flayer somehow. And she believed it had something to do with Mike.

He was acting differently around him. He had been for some time now, as she had with Max and even El but this was different. Something had happened, and because Will was, well, Will, he was clearly trying to put aside for the sake of everyone's safety. Y/n couldn't really blame him there, but she wished he would open up to her. Tell her what was wrong.

And she wished more than anything she could fix whatever Mike had clearly broken.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"All we gotta do is wait until the pool closes and everyone leaves," Lucas begins, guiding his friends through the first layer of the men's locker rooms. "And then get him from here..."

He steps forward, quickly ripping open the secondary door. The three boys scurry inside, and Lucas's friends quickly seem to catch on to his plan and a small smile grows on Will's face.

"And get him into here," Lucas eagerly rips open the sauna door, expecting to see nothing but steam but his luck had run out.

Five sweaty adult men in towels sat packed in the sauna like sardines, scowls on their faces for the three party members who interrupted their steam. "Hey! Shut the door!"

-"Come on, kid!"

-"Shut it!"

Lucas finally broke from his stupor and slammed the door shut, shuddering.

"I think I just threw up in my mouth,"

Will nodded with a grimace, but shook it off when his eyes landed on the wall beside the door.

"The controls!"

Mike's still bulging, haunted eyes finally broke away from their zoning out and jumped to the wall where Will was pointing. His face lit up.

"We can control from the outside, it's perfect!"

"Do you think it'll get hot enough?" Will asks, feeling more and more relieved by the second. "Like, "Y/n" hot?"

His friends immediately stopped, looking to him with a deadpan expression. Will scoffed at them. "You know what I mean" he snarked, not in the mood though he was trying to ignore the hint of a blush creeping up on his skin.

"Nevermind that," Lucas says. "Look right, here, 220 degrees. That's definitely enough."

"Okay, so we just need to figure out how to get him into here," Will nods towards the sauna door.

"Precisely."

"Then we lock him in," Mike says.

Lucas nods. "-heat him up,"

And Will manages another somewhat relieved smile. "-and no matter what happens, we'll know for sure."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Erica descends from the latter, the flashlight in her hands flicking off with a loud click as she strides up to the break room table where her recruits stood waiting. The group had taken a calculated risk I confiding in the young girl, but she was smart and demanded the information and why they needed to know if she could fit into the air duct in the back room. So here they stood, waiting with anxious breath for her verdict.

"Yeah, I don't know," she says, propping herself up on the edge of the table rather unimpressed.

"You don't know if you can fit?" Dustin asks.

"Oh, I can fit. I just don't know if I want to,"

"Are you claustrophobic?" Robin tries.

Amused, Erica gives the young woman a pitiful laugh. "I don't have phobias."

"Okay, well," Steve begins with a shrug. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is I still haven't heard what's in this for Erica,"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Steve slides another banana boat ice cream float across the table, joining the already plentiful dairy banquet laid out for the Sinclair girl. She merely gave it a single, disinterested glance and slid it back.

"More fudge please,"

Nobody said anything. And Steve just stared back at the table with tired, glazed-over eyes before Erica sent him a dismissive wave.

"Go on,"

He gave a sigh, and left the booth with the Banana boat in hand, and retreated to the counter. Robin took that as her cue and pulled out the marked-up blueprints she had at her side.

"Alright, you see this?" She points from the circle marked Scoops Ahoy and trail connecting over the flipped map. "This is the route you're gonna take. Then we just wait until the last delivery goes out tonight then you knock out the grate. Jump down. Open the door."

"Then you find out what's in those boxes?" She asks.

"Exactly,"

"And you say this guard is armed?"

"Yes," Dustin quickly nods. "But he won't be there,"

"And booby traps?"

"Booby traps?" Robin echoed.

"Lazers, spikes in the wall,"

Robin couldn't help but give a small laugh, but Erica was all too serious. She turned to the two with a serious look.

"You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child endangerment."

"We'll be in radio contact with you the whole time-"

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" Erica stops her. "Child. Endangerment."

Robin sighs, ignoring the knot wanting to twist in her stomach. She knew she was right, and Robin supposed she just didn't want to admit to herself what they were asking not only of themselves but the young girl.

"Erica?" Dustin began. "Hi, uh... We think these Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm. Don't you love your country?"

"You can't spell America without Erica," she shrugs, taking a long and loud sip from her complimentary Scoops Shake.

Dustin just blinks at her response and concedes with a nod. "Uh... yeah. Oddly, that's uh... weirdly true, so... so! Don't do this for us! Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man. Do this for America, Erica."

Erica, who had been slurping her drink through her straw throughout his entire speech, finally finished it off and shivered, sending him a smirk. "Ooh! I just got the chills."

Dustin smiled proudly.

"Oh, yeah," she quickly corrects, her smile falling. "From this float. Not your speech."

His smile falls right off his face.

"You know what I love most about this country?" Erica began. "Capitalism. Do you know what capitalism is?"

Both Robin and Dustin mumble a 'yeah'.

"It means this is a free market system, which means people get paid for their services depending on how valuable their contributions are. And this seems to me that my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So-"

Robin and Dustin share a worried look.

"-you want my help? This U.S.S. Butterscotch better be the first of many. And I'm talking free ice cream for life,"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Lifting Up Auvionna "Auvi" Smith:

Muslim Aid - Save Palestine Emergency:

Help Latino Community on Lake Street:

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag List:

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❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[runningglikewaterr]

Someone send me asks I’m super bored and want to distract myself from school and work

[deal-of-the-damned]

My Rules

If you are under 18 years of age, please tread carefully. Do not message me personally, I am quite uncomfortable with speaking to someone so young, but feel free to send asks. I will tag everything smut and violence related with the tag nsfw. If I find out that you are under 18, I will have to block you. I ask you to respect my wishes, and in turn I will respect yours.

I know that asking you not to interact whatsoever is pointless, we’ve all been there, but just don’t go past my boundaries.

If you are shy and want to send me a message, please feel free to! If you don’t want to send me an anonymous ask, message me as well! I am honestly open to it if you’re 18 or over, but I am not that great at messaging so expect a reply within the next 3 days. Requests will have their own separate post, and if I get curious enough I’ll create a Masterlist here. I will link my AO3 account here as well when I have the time. Don’t be afraid to give me criticism on my works btw, I strive to improve as much as I can!

That being said though, I won’t take any bashing seriously. If you need to rant, let me know and I’ll listen, but mindlessly bashing and blasting anyt writing of mine or someone else’s will be ignored and the ask/interaction deleted. If you didn’t like it, you can just not read it or ignore it. You can also just leave a sad or angry face if you don’t like my latest story/stories, maybe both, maybe even just a bunch of stabbing emojis. Go at it, have your fill, but don’t be mean.

My last rule is to please try and be patient. I am not good with managing literally anything time-wise or other, so if I don’t reply right away, just wait a few days before sending the same message. Threats aren’t appreciated no matter who they come from, bad-mouthing or swearing at me won’t make me answer faster, and asking me to hurry up with an update or a story idea is just, really stupid. I don’t get paid for this, I do it for fun, please remember that before sending me your impatient message.

Also for those of you who understand how hard it is to balance everything, you’re the real MVP’s. I love you guys, can’t wait to write for you all! Stay tuned for all my stuff!

AO3:

[pjisskullourful]

sweetheart i have a question, do you have something like a long term plan of where you wanna go with the fic? you know, plot lines and endings and then you build the story around it or is it all absolutely spontaneous and all made up in the heat of the moment? cuz honestly I dunno wich seems harder to me. or do you rely on the commissions and request and go where the wave floats you? cause everytime i see a request here im like, oh, what if this has completely fucked her plan up? but you seem to really love all the comments, wich is the sweetest. btw stained sheets and gay enough are my religion

hay babes- short answer: no

elaboration: for something like gayenough iknew what i wanted the arc of those initial 3parts to be, i knew how i wanted the story to prgoress& how i wanted to stagger the development of both the triad& the love between damithan. that 1 was literally just my bestie saying: how bout both dami & ethan-- & then i formed the plot& how i wanted it to go& what points i wanted to hit& that 1 was verymuch me& my plan with complete disregard for any requests lol

for stainedsheets-- i know exactly how i want it to end, i have a fitting conclusion inmind but i havent worked out specifically when thats gonna happen. i just work myself from 1 kinkthat i wanna explore to the next& people send in requests& i addthat to the kink list that im running(& thats how we get stuff like the chapter of experimenting with sub dami). i dont have set scenes inmind or an outline or a specific roadmap to follow

beyond keeping brief lists, i really try to avoid putting toomuch planning into anyting cos i find that i can plan myself to death. i try to stay fast& loose-- i know the main thing that i want to get across& then its just a case of how i feel its bestto get there. i love the requests& people have lots of really great ideas-- but at the end of the day its about what makes sense for me& what i can use to get my points across so i dont ever let them throw me off

thankssomuch! im glad youre enjoyingthe chaptered projects somuch(it means alot)