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thebearer · 7 months

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autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: target, halloween, carmen, and you. or a short, fluffy work about halloween shopping with target bc why not? 'tis the season.

contains: fluff. that's it lol. mentions to past family memories and some insecure carmen, but honestly just fluff!

“Oh, look at this one!” You coo, snatching the tiny ghost figurine off the shelf.

“Cute.” Carmen muttered, one hand on the obnoxiously red cart, the other on your lower back. “Put it in.” He nodded towards the cart that was slowly starting to fill up.

The speakers droned out some dull pop song, your coffee and his melting away in the drink carriers on the cart. Carmen didn’t usually prefer Starbucks, much more of a fan of the local coffee spot a block over from The Bear. They knew his regular, made it for him as soon as he walked in. No fuss, no forced conversation- just the way he liked it.

But you liked Starbucks, well, in the right circumstance. You liked going to Target, you liked having a coffee to sip on while you “browsed”. Browsed, Carmen had grinned when you told him that.

“You don’t just go out and browse sometimes? Look at things? Window shop to make yourself feel happier?” You’d asked him earlier in the car, head tilting to the side.

“No, baby. I, uh, I don’t.” Carmen looked over at you, his hand still holding yours in the center console. “But maybe you’re onto somethin’.”

Carmen’s lack of decorations was deemed a crime in your eyes, which inspired the trip. Halloween trinkets filling the cart, the sly smile you’d give him when you’d slip another one in, just like you were doing now.

“It’s my treat.” You’d remind him, with a little wink. Carmen let you think that. Like he’d ever let you pay. And miss out on a chance to spoil you? No way.

“Where’re you gonna put all this?” Carmen hummed, watching you situate the tiny ghost next to the plastic cauldron and iridescent ornaments- something you saw on TikTok that you were going to attempt to DIY. “My place isn’t that big.”

“I’ll find a place, don’t worry.” You hum, sliding back in beside him, swiping your cup out of the basket. “You’ve got a bathroom, and the kitchen, and the bedroom-”

“-Bedroom?” Carmen grinned lightly, his hand snaking to your waist while his free hand pushed the cart. “You gonna put this creepy shit in there?”

“It’s not creepy.” You huff at him. “It’s cute, festive. Makes the place feel more… homey.”

Carmen decided then, he’d let you put a full fucking skeleton in his room if it made you feel that way. He’d get rid of all his shit, didn’t need it anyways, so you’d have room for all your holiday stuff. Carmen’s heart fluttered at the thought of what Christmas would look like. Would you put up a tree? He hoped you would. He’d go and chop one down if he had to. Where in Chicago he’d find a tree? He wasn’t sure, but he’d find one for you. If it made you as happy as this did.

“Ok,” You pulled him out of his thoughts, stopping the cart lightly. You plucked the bright orange bag up. “Did you know these are my absolute weakness?” Pumpkin shaped Reese’s, in their bright orange and purple glory.

“Yeah?” Carmen grinned. “This is it, huh?”

“Yes, in any shape too. But I prefer the pumpkin.” You went to set it back, Carmen’s hand grabbing the bag lightly and putting it in the cart.

“‘M more of a Christmas Tree fan.” Carmen shrugged. “You know Cicero- uh, Jimmy-” You nodded, slipping back into his side. “He, uh, he used to bring a bag of these to Christmas every year when I was little. He’d always have to hide ‘em, ya know? My dad… My dad didn’t want us havin’ all that sugar before dinner. Jimmy would come in where all the kids were, toss ‘em to me or Mikey or Richie when he started hangin’ around. Tell us not to get caught, and Merry Christmas, and hide the evidence. We’d eat them before goin’ to Mass, and he did it every year until I got in high school.”

You smiled softly, hand sliding down his back. “That’s sweet.” You hum, squeezing his hip lovingly. “You should get him some for Christmas this year. Return the favor.”

“Yeah,” Carmen scoffed lightly. “Yeah, I think he’d like that.”

A silence fell between the two of you, chatter from the surrounding people, the scratchy-screech of the cart. Carmen’s heart hammered, mind racing. Why the fuck did you tell her that? Fuckin’ ruined the moment. Stupid, fuckin’ stupid.

“Hey, uh,” Carmen’s hands shook lightly, fingers drumming on the red plastic over the cart. “I-I didn’t mean to… ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that, ya know? Ruin the-the… I just, I dunno, you said that and-and I-”

“-What?” You asked softly, brows creasing lightly. “What are you talking about? Say what?”

“The, uh, the thing with Jimmy. I-I didn’t mean to make it awkward-”

“Why is it awkward?” You pressed, setting down the candle you were smelling. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Yeah? I-I just… I dunno why I said it, I’m sorry.” Carmen rambled, a hand falling over his face, hoping you couldn’t see the blush growing over his face.

“Don’t be sorry, Carm. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s a sweet story. I like that you told me that.”

“Yeah?” Carmen asked softly.

You nodded, smiling at him. “You know I do, bear.” The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, calmly- Carmen’s sure he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Here,” You twist the lid off the next candle. “This one has caramel. You like that, right?”

Carmen wasn’t sure how you remembered that. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, that he liked whatever you were burning at your apartment when he was over. It was caramel and coffee, you’d remembered, because you showed up at his house with the same candle the next day. A love present, you’d called it, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want anything in return, no strings, just buying him something because you wanted to; because he liked it. It was still a new concept to Carmen, how you could love him without wanting anything other than love in return.

Carmen ducked down, the brim of his hat bumping your wrist lightly. “Yeah, I like that one.” He nods. “Smells like that other one.”

“Yeah? Not too pumpkinny?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No.” Carmen laughs, breathy and light. “I don’t smell any pumpkin. Is there pumpkin?”

“Caramel Pumpkin Latte.” You tilt the label towards him. “They’re saying it’s in there.” Carmen hummed lightly. “You calling them a liar?” You giggle playfully.

“No, but I am sayin’ there’s not pumpkin in there.” Carmen snorted lightly, putting the candle in the cart anyways. “Not real pumpkin, anyways.”

“Maybe if this chef thing doesn’t work out, you could be a candle critic.” You tease, falling into slow steps beside him. “Be a candle blogger or something.”

“Candle blogger?” Carmen repeats with an amused smile. “That’s not real.”

You look at him, eyes wide in excitement. “Oh, Berzatto, am I about to blow your mind.”

“No? Really?” Carmen laughed. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

“No! It’s a real thing, Carmen.” You laugh, pulling out your phone. “There was this woman that, like, went viral because she was going insane about Bath and Body Works not having her candle or something.” You giggle, typing slowly in the search bar.

“That’s fuckin’ insane.” Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk. “Think she might’ve started a trend.”

“Well, can’t do that then.” Carmen shrugged, loading the items on the small platform at the self checkout. “Don’t wanna go up against her, baby. She’s intense.”

“Yeah, good call.” You grin, pocketing your phone, opening the bags while he scanned the ghost. “Guess you’ll have to stick to cooking.”

“Guess so.” Carmen muttered, putting the plush pumpkins in the bag, reaching for his wallet.

“Eh! No!” You click your tongue, eyes flashing at him. “I told you I was buying it.” You put a hand over the card slot, glaring at Carmen with a frown.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head lightly, pushing your hand away lightly. “You got a number you wanna put in?” He nodded towards the screen.

You pouted, pausing for a moment. “Yes.” You mutter, typing in your number quickly, pivoting your body in front of the card machine.

“You gonna move?” Carmen looked at you, already reaching around to put his card in.

“No, I told you it was my treat.” You mutter, twisting with your phone in your hand. One look at the screen, and you were tapping your phone against the screen. The ding chimed, your smug smile spreading across your lips when the receipt printed.

Carmen was stunned, card still in his hand. “What- How did you-”

“Gotta be quicker than that, Berzatto.” You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Carmen looked down at his card in his hand, shoving it back into his wallet. Maybe Sugar was right, maybe he did need to actually learn how to use his phone. He grabbed the bags from you, swatting your hand away while you pushed the basket back.

“Shoulda let me pay.” Carmen grumbled, walking beside you out the sliding doors. It had started to get chilly, leaves tinging with warm color and the temperature beginning to drop. “Stuff’s for me anyways.”

“Yeah, but I wanted you to get it.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Besides, I told you it was my treat.”

Carmen didn’t respond, unlocking the trunk and putting the bags in carefully, but the frown didn’t fade. Brows still furrowed and lips still in a hard line.

“Hey,” You call, stopping him before he could close the trunk. “I told you I wanted to buy it for you.”

“Yeah,” Carmen’s brows furrowed. “But you shouldn’t’ve-”

“-Carm.” You groan lightly. “I wanted to pay, ok? You always get me stuff. Let me get this for you, ok?” You say lightly, arms snaking around his shoulders, looping behind his neck. “Let me spoil you, bear. Lemme be your sugar mama.”

Carmen snorts, lips curling in a grin lightly. “Shut up.” He mutters, your lips closing over his in a sweet kiss.

You pulled apart, blushed and swooned in a Target parking lot. “You gotta put the stuff up anyways.” You tease, hands sliding down his toned arms, over his color block jacket.

“Yeah?” Carmen snorts lightly, pulling the trunk shut. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“I’ll be directing.” You declare, pinching his butt lightly, grinning at how he jumped and flushed. Sliding into the passenger side, you lean across the console to Carmen. “I’ll make sure the ambiance is there.”

Carmen nodded, starting the car, eyes bright when they met yours. “Light the candle?”

“Yes.” You laugh. “And I’ll pick out a movie.”

Carmen snorted lightly, his free hand moving behind your head rest while he backed out. It made your tummy flip with excitement. “Yeah? Casper?”

You give him a feigned unimpressed look. “You know I’m more of a Hocus Pocus girl.”

“Right, my bad.” Carmen laughed, hand gripping your thigh lightly, thumb rubbing patterns over the material of your leggings. Your heart skipped. “Fine. As long as you open those Reese’s.”

“Deal.” You grin, kissing his forearm gently.

Hours later, wrappers piled on the coffee table, the candle burning in the kitchen, and the orange lights glowing from where Carmen string them over the TV stand in the living room. One Jack-O-Lantern fleece blanket thrown over both of your legs, your head on Carmen’s while the beginning credits of Beetlejuice played on the TV. Carmen decided right there that you were right. This was more homey. Felt… right and content. He wasn’t so sure it was the decorations, more likely it was the girl who picked them out.

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spacerockfloater · 2 days

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Cassian had been eating an early breakfast with them this morning when Rhys had gotten the bill for Nesta’s night out. When Rhys had read each item aloud. Bottles of rare wine, exotic foods, gambling debts …

Oh, do shut the fuck up people. You’re acting as if Nesta requested three muscled, naked, oiled up, male sex workers come to her table and feed her whipped cream with their dicks. She ordered fucking food and drinks for fuck’s sake. The horror! You’re building a fifth mansion, you can afford to pick up the tab you cunts, especially after she fought your fucking war for you. Boo fucking hoo.

Feyre had stared at her plate until silent tears dripped into her scrambled eggs.

Now, what the actual fuck is this grown ass woman crying about? Bitch, pull your melodramatic self together. You’re acting as if Nesta made the front page of the local newspaper for being a serial killer. Calm the fuck down. Your husband is reading you a fucking bar’s bill, for crying out loud. A private bill, that was available only for you to see, until your toddler of a partner decided to let everyone know about it. Like, the only acceptable reason for you to shed a tear is realising you’re shackled to this piece of shit for eternity.

Cassian knew there’d been previous conversations—fights—about Nesta. About whether to give her time to heal herself, as they’d all believed would happen at first, or to step in. But as Feyre wept at the table, he knew it was a breaking of some sort. An acceptance of a hope failed.

Yes, because we all know that the only two ways of helping a traumatised person are either leaving them completely alone with their self destructive tendencies and excluding them from our lives (not a single painting of Nesta in Feyre’s home, pity job offers from Rhys, just superficial attempts of Feyre inviting Nesta to witness her perfect new life and house but no true attempts at connecting with her) or stripping them off of every bit freedom and forcing them to do unpaid physical labour. Now every hope is obviously lost!

It had required all of Cassian’s training, every horror he’d endured on and off the battlefield, to keep that same crushing sorrow from his own face.

Cassian, for the millionth time, I hope someone throws your hypocritical ass in a deep fryer as soon as possible. Looking forward to Elain’s prophecy coming true.

Rhys had laid a comforting hand on Feyre’s, squeezing gently before he looked at Azriel, and then Cassian, and laid out his plan. As if he’d had it waiting a long, long while.

Rhysand, you sly, manipulative snake, you. You never fail to disgust me. Aiming to break your own fucking wife apart so that she, in her vulnerability, goes along with your pre-prepared schemes, while simultaneously acting as if you’re her shoulder to cry on when you’re in fact the reason she’s crying, is actually nauseating. And I thought Tamlin was the beast! Rhysand is the worst thing that ever happened to Feyre. At the very best, they deserve each other. And that’s me being generous.

#acotar #acosf #anti rhysand #anti cassian #anti feyre #anti feysand #anti inner circle #anti ic #pro nesta #fuck these guys

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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Alright alright I have a new ask for you!

How many Birdy Behaviours does bird!reader actually delight in?

There's so many cute and weird things that I could consider.

Cute things:

- Do their feathers puff up if they're angry or startled? If they're cold? If so, do they have little downy feathers that would be visible when they do? How soft and floofy would they look?

- Will their wings cover people they're in bed with? Like a little tent?

(I think it'd be adorable if everytime they wake up, their wings shake uncontrollably before folding back into themselves. Like how birds will do if they get snow or rain on their feathers. That instinctually, reader is protecting wednesday from the weather, even when in their dorm. Adorable)

- Do they molt? Groom themselves? When they shower, do the wings need extra care? Do they need help molting? Someone else to groom the hard-to-reach parts of their wings?

- Speaking of water, do the wings absorb water or deflect them like water fowl? Do they do a cute little shimmy when they're trying to get water off their wings?

Weird bird behaviours:

- Do they ever.. Go birdy? If they're very hungry and see a litte creacher, like a bug or mouse, would they crunch down? Eat raw meat? Are there certain things they need in their diet that normies don't?

- Okay, Google the sound that a peacock makes when it fans it's feathers. Can they.. can they make that sound? I'm terrified and intrigued.

- do they have feathers in other parts of their body? On their back between their wings, in their hair?

- Do they whistle at 5am?

- animals like crows will gift their human friends little trinkets, I know birb reader does this, but to what extent? Will they change what they gift people based on their excitement? Like If Enid loves little gems and Wednesday appreciates bones more? Will they steal things from one person and gift it to another?

STEALING LORE

Anyway not all of these are necessary to answer but idk theyve just been living in my head rent free so i had to get it all out.

Istg i should just make fanfics of your fanfics at this point

Oh no, you opened Pandora's Box, I AM answering all of these. And also, if you did, I would swear fealty to you 🧎

Cute things:

They absolutely do puff up, especially when angry, it's part of what makes her so frustrated. It's hard to look intimidating when you've got a bunch of fluff on your back. Wednesday always teases her for the fluffy downy feathers, which makes her even more mad, which makes Wednesday even more amused

YES they cover people they're cuddling with. Like, once she starts sleeping with Wednesday, they practically turn into fluffy blankets. And they shake during dreams, nightmares, and when waking up. Wednesday nearly threatens to cut them off once after the feathers tickled her nose and she couldn't stop sneezing for 15mins

They absolutely molt, it's awful. Usually Reader just complains the whole time until someone finally offers to help (it used to be Enid until she bugs Wednesday enough). She can get 95% of it on her own but every now and then there's a spot she just can't reach

They absorb water and it's hell. They feel soggy and heavy and take forever to dry, and Wednesday is lucky she's so cute because all that walking in the rain is absolutely miserable. The shimmy itself is not cute though, it's more like when a dog tries to shake water off. Erratic, violent, ceaseless shaking until it's dry and then she's stuck, once again, with fluffy, unruly feathers

Weird behaviours:

Yes, but more in terms of "oh shit are those seeds?? Is that fruit??? oh fuck yes" Like, she manages to control herself around meat, but she will chase and terrorise little creachers if they pass by her at the right time. More than once, Wednesday watched her grab a rabbit, fly with it, and let it plummet back to the ground. Or she just flatout curb stomp a snake if she feels threatened. Reader is an absolute menace to the local ecosystem

Thankfully no peacock feather sounds, the most anyone can hear is just a gentle ruffle and maybe a little hum in th eprocess

No other feathers, but that doesn't stop the chaos because she drops those feathers everywhere

She will basically whistle/call out at the most random hours of the day, much like a rooster. Though not quite as loud, it's almost like she can't help it. In the middle of class? A small whistle. Half-asleep? Another one. In the middle of a test? It's a good thing the school is full of Outcasts because what do you know, Reader is whistling

Damn right, she 100% caters her trinket gifts. She starts off with just whatever she can find, but she narrows it down until she knows The Gift. Enid usually gets anything shiny, whether it's a gem or earring or anything else. Wednesday gets rocks and pieces of bones. More than once theyve gotten something that Reader stole literally from the other side of the room, so it's not even really a gift, but it's the thought that counts (Reader also tries to woo Wednesday with rock piles, much like a penguin)

EXTRA BEHAVIOURS 👀

She picks at her feathers when she's extremely stressed or overwhelmed. It's a small part of why she keeps them in the harness when she's anxious, it keeps her from the bad habit

She BITES FINGERS. More than once Enid has pointed at her and she just... chomped and it's not even a hard bite but it leaves everyone like "what the genuine fuck???"

An absolute weirdo with the weather. It snows? She plays in it like it's the best thing ever, much like crows. It's sunny? Catch this bitch outside with wings outstretched fully catchin those rays

Always 100% down to fight her own reflection. She's got a human brain, she knows it's her own reflection, but that small birdy part still sees the reflection and is like "gasp, an enemy, square up." It's the sole reason there's no mirrors in Reader's room. Probably the only time Wednesday actually, audibly laughed was when Reader unexpectedly passed a mirror and instantly started a fight. Thankfully it wasn't an expensive one

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #everyone but her au

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pennys-rose-garden · 7 months

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unlimited shapeshifting shenanigans

turning into a mouse to sneak around

turning into an exact copy of someone to mock them

turning into someone’s dead relative in an argument (classic prank)

turning into a cheetah to race cars

turning into a hawk to pick up squirrels, not to eat them, but just to fling them around in the air like toys

turning into a lemur to climb trees

growing a giraffe’s head to reach high places

growing wings to fly

impersonating a public figure, potentially with tremendous consequences

turning into a tiger and scratching up walls and doors when you get pissed off

roaring just to hear your own voice as an animal

turning into a puppy to make people feel sorry for you

turning into a goat to climb

shapeshifting for cosplay reasons

turning into a magical being to fuck shit up

oh what’s that? you’re filming and the actor you need isn’t available? i gotchu fam

experimenting with gender

perching on top of buildings in the form of a dragon

you can hiss at people and they’ll actually know not to fuck with you

turning into a polar bear to scare the shit out of people

turning into a fennec fox to stay cool on a hot day

turning into an otter to swim more efficiently

turning into a seal to stay warm in the winter

speaking in someone else’s voice and freaking people out

tapetum lucidum to be Scary

seeing in the dark

sensing heat signatures

see someone with food you really want? turn into a seagull and divebomb them so you can swipe it

turning into a cat to pounce on small animals and then let them go

being able to recognize objects by scent

grazing as a horse or a cow whenever you get hungry (free food is always right there)

chasing friends in the form of a wolf

new people are like “yo why do i always see this wild boar walking around,” your friends are like “oh that’s xyz”

turning into someone’s crush to terrorize them

impersonating someone who can’t show up to class/a meeting/etc. and then updating them on everything they missed later

being able to write super accurate xenofiction

turning into a snake so you can chill around your homie’s neck

turning into a fly to listen in on important conversations

turning into an albatross to travel overseas

turning into a big scary dog so your friends feel safe walking at night

turning into a horse so you can give your friends rides around town and they don’t have to walk

turning into a mule so you can carry people’s bags for them

turning into celebrities so you can get into exclusive events

turning into a sea serpent to explore the ocean

turning into a local cryptid to be a menace

turning into a long-dead celebrity to fuel theories that they’re somehow still alive

hanging out at a zoo and seeing how long it takes anyone to notice that One Of These Things Just Doesn’t Belong

turning into a reptile or a bird every month so you can ride out your period

having no one “true form”

playing with your pet as one of their species

talking as an animal and watching people freak the fuck out

being able to do a spot-on impression of marge simpson

turning into a kangaroo to get somewhere faster

never having to worry about safety again

wagging or lashing your tail

turning into an alligator to absorb the sun

#penny ponders #oc ideas #writing prompts #shapeshifterkin

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paperbackribs · 2 months

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A Tarnished Copper Boy (12)

Previous | Next | Ao3 Last chapter, Steve insisted on regular cuddles in bed, they celebrated Christmas in spring since Steve missed it in his last blip, and Eddie struggled with how important Steve has become to him.

Chapter 12: The Worm Ouroboros

Spring refuses to show any signs of colour, the grey skies invading well into the warming months and bringing with it a sticky warmth that leaves everyone uncomfortable.

Wayne grumbles that a little extra rain wouldn’t hurt even as he gripes that he doesn’t like the idea of the new mall opening: it’s going to take local business away from the town centre. He’s extra suspicious as to the nighttime work that’s happening in addition to the usual daytime scaffolding.

Steve continues to look restless at times, taking to staring out the trailer like a dog at the pet store window. It makes Eddie feel inexplicably guilty like he’s the one chaining Steve to the house. That his happiness at having Steve at his fingertips, available to him at all times, has morphed into some otherworldly power and like Hades to Steve’s Persephone he has abducted him to stay as his wife, doomed to be imprisoned in the underworld until spring comes. Eddie supposes in this analogy that spring is 1986, which means that Steve’s rebirth is still a long year away.

He's taken to reading from Eddie’s library, refusing to yet touch Lord of the Rings for the pure stubborn sake of all the times he’d told Dustin he’d never read it. But Eddie thinks that as Steve continues to look caged up and restless, that it’s only a matter of time. Otherwise, he dives into Eddie’s collection with the enthusiasm of a man looking for a distraction. A feeling that Eddie knows well.

He finishes one old novel during Spring Break, lounging back on the couch with a foot flat on the floor by Eddie’s hips. Hellfire has a day-long campaign planned and Eddie is cross-legged, his back to Steve while he looks down at his notes on the coffee table. Making sure everything is in narrative order and occasionally writing little additions as inspiration strikes.

Steve closes his book with a thoughtful sound, on its cover a long silver serpent eats its own tail against a backdrop of black and red. Eddie looks over, interested in how quickly Steve has flown through reading it. “You like it?”

Steve hums absently, “It’s okay, but I don’t understand how they travel from Earth to Mercury if this is a fantasy.”

“It’s the power of imagination, buttercup,” Eddie grins. Steve flips through the pages to the intricate map of the mountains in Demonland. “I like Lord Gro.”

Eddie turns more fully to Steve, intrigued.

Steve’s gaze turns inward and thoughtful, feeling out his words before he says them. “He’s complicated, right? He has a lot going for him — trusted by the king, a cool adventurer, courageous and skilled. But then he falls in love and betrays his allies. Just. The struggle as he decides what’s the right thing to do is interesting.”

He turns the book over to contemplate the cover with pursed lips, “The ending is a bummer though. I get wanting something so bad you wish for a redo but being bitter because no one sees you as heroes anymore, so you ask the gods to let you go back to the start of the war. Morons,” he concludes, scathingly succinct.

Eddie nods, excited because he had similar thoughts when reading it as well. “Yeah, and that’s the point of the title too, you know? The Worm Ouroboros — the snake that eats its tail. It represents an eternal cycle and so they end up where they started.”

Steve clicks his fingers at him, “That’s what you were talking about the time you didn’t want to make dinner. What’d you say?” Steve looks up while he thinks. “Life is a never-ending story of eating, shitting, and eating again. Life and birth or something?”

Eddie blushes, charmed that Steve had been listening closely enough to remember an off-the-cuff remark. “Life, death, and rebirth again, yeah.”

“You always have a choice, though,” Steve says musingly, still contemplating the stain in the shape of Australia on the ceiling. Eddie waits for him to explain but Steve remains silent. He calls his name and Steve blinks, looking down at Eddie on the floor.

“I mean, you could have refused to eat. Starve yourself and die and the cycle is broken. It’s shitty, but it’s still a choice.”

“Pumpkin,” Eddie says mock reprovingly, “That’s pretty fucking grim.”

“True though, dearest,” Steve challenges with a raised eyebrow, tone haughty.

“Okay,” Eddie admits, “True, yes. But I like living for the most part and you make a great carbonara, so why deny myself.”

Steve snorts, “You are obsessed with a little garlic and onion.”

Eddie can feel himself readying to pounce like a cat that’s sighted its prey. “But Stevie, it’s what you do with it!” He shrieks, pushing up on the balls of his feet to lunge over and tackle Steve.

The book goes flying to the floor with a thud and Steve lets out a big oof when Eddie knocks the breath out of him as he lands over his middle, he gleefully glares down at Steve, “Got you now!”

Steve breathlessly giggles as Eddie sticks his fingers into his sides and proceeds with the Munson Tickle Attack. Squirming under him, he bucks and Eddie nearly goes flying to the floor right after the book, but Steve hooks one leg behind him and flips him over to land heavily on his back. Eddie grunts and immediately rolls, trying to squirm out from under Steve to take back the upper hand. He nearly succeeds, but Steve suddenly sits heavily on Eddie’s lap, pinning his wrists above his head and stretching his torso to force Eddie down with his weight.

“Got you,” Steve breathlessly says, chest heaving from his exertion. Their noses nearly brushing, Steve’s eyes are close and intently trained on Eddie, the longer strands of his hair fall around them, creating a curtain, narrowing the world down to just the two of them.

Eddie licks his lips; they feel full and wanting under his tongue. “What’re you going to do about it,” he challenges.

He can feel himself growing hard underneath the soft meat of Steve’s ass and he grinds up just a fraction. Enough to tell himself that it’s barely noticeable. Steve’s eyes darken and his fingers tighten around Eddie’s wrists. He moans, eyes fluttering close. He wants Steve to push down harder, to squeeze harder. Anything to help relieve this ache growing in him, the compounding pressure building, threatening to crack across his body, distort and shake his frame apart.

Steve must hear Wayne approaching the front door before Eddie because his eyes widen in alarm and he quickly sits up, hand moving in front of his body before he flies to the end of the couch, a magazine suddenly open and in his lap. Eddie looks at him from the end of the couch, still splayed out and uncomprehending until he hears the key in the lock.

Steve looks over at his still stationary body and hisses his name.

ShitFuckDamn.

Eddie flees to the bathroom.

His back hitting the door behind him, Eddie tries to figure out what the fuck all that was. His thoughts however are reluctant to turn away from the memory of Steve’s eyes burning into his, to forget the enthralling weight of Steve forcing him down, making him submit under his hands and body.

Eddie bites against a moan and hurriedly unzips his jeans, forcing them down and under his balls. Spitting into his palm, he urgently strokes against his hard shaft and, if he were in his right mind, he might feel a sense of shame at how quickly it takes to get himself off. With one last dazzling twist of his wrist, he is shuddering, unravelling at the memory and scent of Steve that still lingers in his watering mouth.

He has just enough presence of mind to aim for the floor and thankfully manages not to splooge all over himself. Not when he has to walk back out there. Eddie curses again. He can’t go back out there. He can’t. He can’t look Steve in the eye after he nearly humped up onto him and then proceeded to whack it just a room away.

And what was Steve thinking? Was that just some wrestling that got out of control? Had Steve even felt half of what Eddie had out there? Christ, what if it had all been Eddie? He turns cold at the thought. Here he is already feeling like he’s Hades to Steve’s Persephone and he’s rubbing up on a guy who can’t even leave the house.

Though, flicking back to that look in Steve’s eyes he’s not sure: there had been an intensity about Steve that felt like it burned Eddie clean through to his soul. He’s a creative guy, but even he would struggle to imagine Steve looking at him so piercingly.

Eddie goes to run his hand down his face in frustration and only by sheer luck realises that he’s about to wipe his jizz over his nose. He recoils from his hand and smacks the back of his head against the door, grunting in pain.

“You okay in there?” Wayne calls out.

Eddie wants to die of mortification, just allow the floor to swallow him and cover back up again, preferably clean and with no evidence. “Fine,” he grits his teeth to call out, “Hit my elbow on the wall.”

“All right.”

The shuffling sound tells him that Wayne has walked away and Eddie decides that this is game time. He needs to strategize before he goes out there. Wayne will be in the living room as well as Steve. Eddie looks down at his watch cursing; it’s not exactly the end of the night but Wayne will be retiring soon and that means that Eddie’s looking down the barrel of walking into his room—that he shares with Steve—and getting into bed—that he shares with Steve and… what? Be the little spoon as usual?

Eddie swallows a hysterical giggle.

This is ridiculous, but he knows that he can’t face Steve right now. He can’t even think of meeting his eyes and seeing either pity or disgust. Jeff won’t mind if he crashes tonight; they can go over campaign ideas and Eddie can keep his mind off the feel of Steve’s ass on top of his dick.

He cleans up, staring himself down in the mirror as he washes his hands. “You’re not going to fuck this up, asshole. You’re going to go out there, not freak your friend out any further and give you both some space. You’ll see him tomorrow and apologise or never speak of it again, and everything will go back to normal.”

His reflection doesn’t look very convinced, so he flips it the bird before strolling out of the bathroom. He is cool, he is casual, he is not going to look like he just talked himself down from a freak-out.

Steve must have disappeared into the bedroom since Wayne sits alone on the couch, convincing Eddie even further that the best thing to do right now is to give them both some space.

He continues his very casual and cool stroll over to the coffee table where he sweeps up his notes; despite himself he blushes while bending further to grab the papers that had fallen to the floor during their wrestling.

Wayne is reading his newspaper and bears him no mind, but Eddie keeps his gaze firmly on his things as he gathers them into his arms. “I’m off, just going out to see one of the guys.”

Wayne finally looks up over the rim of his paper, an eyebrow raised. “It’s late.” Which is a weird observation because Wayne’s never given Eddie too much strife about bedtimes and the like.

“I’ll probably stay overnight,” Eddie says weakly. “You know, paint our nails, do our hair, decide on the best monster to skin for armour. Just the usual girl stuff.”

“Okay,” Wayne says simply with an undertone of judgment that Eddie has no hope of understanding. It’s just one extra element of stress he doesn’t need in that moment so he nods jerkily and backpaddles to the door. “I, uh, forgot to tell Steve, but I’m running really late. If you see him again, can you tell him?”

“Eddie…” Wayne starts in a warning tone, lowering his paper.

He turns and books it, the screen door slapping sharply shut as Eddie leaves the trailer behind him.

---

Jeff is sitting on the sofa in the basement of his house, hunched over his bass guitar. Judas Priests’ Victim of Changes drops from his fingertips as he practices the opening bassline. Steve could certainly be his whisky woman, Eddie reflects, woven through with bronze and gold, but it’s Eddie who’s trying to find his way again.

Looking up at Eddie’s heavy sigh, Jeff eyes him with an evaluating look, “Are you finally going to tell me why you’ve practically moved in? Not that you’re not welcome, but honestly, Eddie, you don’t even look like you want to be here.”

School starts again tomorrow and Eddie has camped out at Jeff’s for four long days. He hadn’t returned home the day after his inglorious flight, the Hellfire campaign was the day after, so it made sense, Eddie had reasoned, to stay over another evening, and then the game had been so successful that they’d run overtime, and Eddie had begged off from driving back late.

He had thankfully run into Catherine on that first day. She had been walking past the booth he sat at with Jeff and Randy in the diner and quickly called out to her. Explaining that he would be staying with a friend for a couple of nights he asked her to pass on the message to Wayne so he wouldn’t worry. He couldn’t bear the thought of calling and Steve answering the phone.

Catherine had regarded him reproachfully from her shorter height, making him feel about two feet tall, but hadn’t mentioned Steve in public as she had vowed. Likewise promising to pass on his message.

Now, he restlessly turns over the chunky silver ring on his thumb, trying to work up the courage to drive home. “I did something I’m not proud of and I’m sort of scared to go back,” Eddie admits.

Jeff’s practised strumming becomes more like noodling around as he contemplates Eddie’s words. “Is it something that needs people to calm down about? Like is there some guy waiting at the park ready to deck you?” He pauses before carefully saying, “It’s not Wayne, is it? Because we’ll work something out then.”

Eddie faintly smiles, thankful that Jeff has his back. He never would have anticipated as a ragged child that he’d have friends in his corner, willing to go to bat against an ominous father figure.

“No, never. And no, there’s no violence at the end of this tragic tale.” And there wouldn’t be. He knows this about Steve. His fear doesn’t stem from Steve turning on him because Eddie’s gay.

He may not be able to say the words yet — not even to Wayne, even though his uncle has always known. Hard not to after the way his father had left Eddie discarded like a rotten carcass on his front step. But when Eddie can finally say the words, he at least knows that he’ll still have a friend in Steve. But the complication of introducing sexuality beyond theory into their relationship is what leaves him grasping.

“I maybe messed up a friendship.”

Jeff regards him with a shrewd eye, “Did you make out with them too? Cause you know that doesn’t automatically mean ruining things. They may just not be that into you.”

Eddie scowls, tempted to pull off his heavy ring and throw it at his friend. Miffed that even if Eddie can’t say the words, Jeff can voice part of them. Isn’t he the older more mature one? Technically by only a year, Eddie admits, but it should count for something.

Though it’s probably not very mature to refuse to speak to Steve at all. “No,” he sighs heavily, “And it may be that he didn’t even notice, which is good I guess.” Even if it makes him feel just as glum. A part of him wants to force the issue, to tell Steve how he feels because if there’s the slightest chance that he reciprocates Eddie’s feelings then surely, it’s worth the gamble.

But the risk is not only about Eddie’s unrequited desire for Steve, he knows this. He’s watched Steve pace and mutter and generally look lost at moments when he thinks he’s unobserved. Steve may appear just peachy keen on the surface, a veritable Donna Reed of managing the household, but at the back of his mind he’s always thinking about the ways he might be changing the timeline, risking his friends’ lives and so many more if their future battles go pear-shaped.

What are Eddie’s stupid, sad, wet feelings compared to the weight of Atlas holding up the sky?

He's probably making it worse, Eddie realises; Jeff raises his brows at his sudden grimace. Even if Steve hadn’t noticed his inappropriate reaction, Eddie still up and disappeared on him for a near week. He’s not so nearsighted as to think that Steve wouldn’t miss him. At the bare minimum, to feel lonely without the extra stimulation of Eddie’s sparkling wit and commentary during Bewitched.

Deciding to face the music, he wraps his long arms around Jeff in a bear hug of thanks before leaving. Jeff pats him on the back and assures him that it’ll all turn out for the better once he confronts whatever it is head-on. He knuckles Jeff’s head in response, asking when this junior of Hawkins High had become so wise, and Jeff sticks his leg out to trip him as he leaves in revenge.

The noon sun is weakly shining behind heavy clouds when his van rumbles to a stop outside the trailer. The humid clash of the coming warmth and the leftover rains of winter causes his dark curls to stick unpleasantly to the back of Eddie’s neck. He walks through the front door like a prisoner approaching the gallows, an inevitable drudge.

The grey shadows cast the empty living area into gloomy shadows; Wayne must be with Catherine, so Eddie heads to the bedroom where Steve will be. “Steve…” He starts as he walks into his erstwhile sanctuary, but the room is empty too.

Eddie backs up, turning to fling open the bathroom. Steve’s not there either. He spins and skids to a stop in front of his sweetheart and the calendar that hangs beside it; the last mark crossed out is on the day Eddie left.

Steve’s gone again.

Eddie’s knees give out and he sinks onto the edge of the bed, a sharp pain stabbing in his gut at his absolute cowardice. He never changes, does he? Always ready to run at the slightest sign of conflict and now Steve has been gone for days and Eddie hadn’t even known. Didn’t bother calling just in case he’d hear Steve’s voice and break down in confession like he knew he would. What a complete and utter asshole he is.

Eddie’s fists clench and unclench as his anger turns inward, becoming a deep sadness that spreads like a heavy weight from his chest. He falls on his back, feet still flat on the ground, embracing the increasing dullness of his mind and body.

Each time Steve leaves the sorrow that yawns within Eddie becomes larger, widening until it has become a pervasive grief. He knows that it’s likely that Steve will come back, but it’s hard to convince his heart of it. The weak vessel increasingly fractured at the what if.

What if this is the last time? What if Steve disappears into the void? Hell, what if they have this all wrong and Steve will fall back even further in time, back before Confederate and Union soldiers, back before armies marching across continents, until he tumbles into a green paradise populated by giant monsters and fragile butterflies?

Time moves slowly as Eddie contemplates his wrongdoings and his what ifs, slipping through his fingers like smooth sand. He blankly watches the shifting shadows as they creep across the ceiling until the bulb above him erupts into a sudden and violent golden light.

“What are you doing in the dark?”

Eddie bolts upright, whipping to face Steve who stands in the frame of the doorway. Leaning against the wood for support, his arms folded across his chest.

“You came back,” Eddie rasps, his voice scratchy from the weight of his emotions compounded by the time he had sat quiet and motionless in the room, grieving the loss of the boy standing across from him. He remembers that the calendar hasn’t been updated and hastens to assure Steve, “It’s only been four days.”

Steve scoffs, his stare hardening. “Yes, I know. I’ve been here, even if you haven’t.” Eddie recoils like he’s been slapped.

Steve had been here, even if here doesn’t mean the trailer. He rakes his eyes down Steve’s body, noting the light Van Halen shirt, and the flannel jacket wrapped around his hips, both perfect for a humid spring day. His feet are clad in the boots from 1986 that Eddie had cleaned, now flecked with dried mud at their base.

The sight feels incongruous: he hasn’t seen Steve in shoes, barely in socks, since the beginning of his second visit. Dirty and tired, leaving his clothes on the bathroom floor. Steve follows his gaze and scoffs again, the sound hard and full of derision. Propelling himself off the frame with a push of his hips, Steve pivots and strides out of the bedroom.

Eddie rolls off the bed, stumbling to follow after him. A spark of fear ripples through Eddie when he sees that Steve is already at the front door, followed by a wash of relief when he realises that he’s only toeing off his shoes.

“You went outside?”

Steve’s jaw clenches, “I needed to get out of here.”

“What about the timeline?” Eddie hisses, bent forward at the weight of his urgency. What has all of this been for if Steve is just going to go wandering about, talking to people and changing the future anyway?

A tendon in Steve’s cheek flexes and he breathes out slowly, “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Eddie. Not when you disappear for a week without so much as a goodbye.”

“More like four days,” Eddie mutters, but unable to refute his point.

Steve makes a frustrated, whistling sound akin to a kettle about to explode. “Sure,” he nearly shouts, making an angry gesture before stomping away. “Four days without so much as a goodbye.”

“So, is this going to be a habit now, you going out?” He knows how petulantly he is acting, but Steve is basically getting ready to leave Eddie. He can feel it in his bones. He may not have wanted to be his warden, but that doesn’t mean that Eddie hadn’t come to depend on Steve relying on him and the shelter he provides. The sanctuary of this house is pretty much all Eddie can offer and Steve may be rapidly coming to the point where he doesn’t need or want it.

Steve fixes an incredulous gaze on him as he deliberately steps back into Eddie’s space. “I can’t believe you, Eddie. You know what? Yes, it is. It’s going to become a habit. So incredibly routine you won’t even have to see me here anymore.”

“What about other people seeing you?” Eddie sharply asks.

He watches Steve’s eyes narrow at the low blow as he leans closer, words crackling with quiet anger. “I’ve been sticking to the woods and off the paths, and I can hear anyone coming from a mile away. I needed to get out of here. I can’t keep pacing the same path between the bedroom and the armchair anymore.” He pronounces each word precisely, “I just needed to fucking stretch my legs.”

Steve has just hit the fear that’s been simmering at the back of Eddie’s mind, banging it like a loud gong reverberating through his head. “Well, I’m so sorry, Steve, that the Munson trailer isn’t big enough for the Harrington heir.”

His face hardening, Steve warns Eddie, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“No,” Eddie steps back, gesturing towards the front door with a mocking sneer that spreads in an ugly manner across his face. The beast within, which has been so docile in these peaceful weeks with Steve, uncoils to strike. “Poor little rich boy, slumming it up with the trailer trash of Forrest Hills. How have you been living with it, really?” He gives a polite golf clap. “Well done you.”

Steve’s fists are clenched, his face drawn sharply, and body so deliberately still that he looks like a wire drawn taut, too far stretched and ready to snap. Eddie lands his killing blow, “Go ahead, fuck up the timeline because you can’t handle the teeny tiny corners of the Munson abode anymore.”

The tight control that Steve had held onto with a strict grip finally breaks, Eddie can almost hear the pieces falling into a shattering explosion. “You know what, fuck you, Eddie,” he seethes. “When have I ever been anything but grateful to you for putting me up? You’re the one that has an issue with me being here so don’t you push your fucking insecurities onto me. I’m not the one who’s ashamed, you absolute fucking prick.”

Steve turns on the spot. Reaching down he swiftly scoops up his boots and, slamming the front door, he exits the trailer still clad in his socks, leaving only a deafening silence ringing through Eddie’s ears. Words like ashamed and insecurities stabbing at him, leaving him bleeding sluggish wounds like sutures savagely ripped from the depths of his flesh.

Eddie’s accusations run through his mind like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head, sobering and shaming. Hadn’t he just been mourning the loss of Steve, thinking that he had fallen through time again?

Yet he’d immediately jumped down Steve’s throat for doing the unexpected. Cruelly throwing his fears smack back into his face as a means for Eddie to push him away before Steve could do it first. To build up a wall to protect himself from his dread of seeing the back of Steve’s head, walking away from him for good.

The wall is falling on Eddie now, drowning him in hard plaster and unforgiving bricks, because he’s made Steve do the one thing he had feared: leave Eddie.

The realisation sends a jolt of panic through him, and he scrambles forward, clawing on his Reeboks and shooting out of the trailer. Steve has just reached the border of the woods and is about to disappear into their deep shadows.

“Steve!” Eddie yells, but he continues striding forward until the forest closes around him, veiling his departure.

Fear lends him wings and Eddie flies forward. Desperately running, he spots Steve and drives ahead those few extra steps to grab onto him, stopping him before he disappears forever. The fingers he has clasped around Steve’s wrists are as resolute as the maple trees that stand strong in their patch of the woods. A subtle scent surrounds them, the breeze carrying a hint of new life from the vibrant pinks and greens that bud the once stark branches.

“Steve,” Eddie pants again but he is standing rigid and refuses to look back, captured arm stretched behind him.

“Steve,” he repeats to stiff shoulders, “I’m sorry, that was fucked up of me. I know that you would never do anything to mess with the future. I know that it weighs heavily on you and that you’re always—always—thinking about the best thing to do, even if it means sitting still when you want to be out there saving people.”

Rigidity crumbling, Steve’s shoulders fall and his head hangs, but he remains silent, face turned away. Eddie continues to try and reach him, “And I’m sorry for leaving for so long, that was really messed up of me and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why did you?” Steve’s voice is tired.

The one thing Eddie can’t do, absolutely could never forgive himself for in this moment, is to make Steve feel estranged from the one refuge he has while adrift in time. He needs stability and friendship, not Eddie pouring all his confusing mix of emotions and desires onto him.

He answers with a half-truth and hopes that it’s enough: “I thought I had messed up our friendship the other night and I freaked out a little. And then I got all up in my head and kept running in the typical Eddie Munson way. I shouldn’t have,” he repeats, remorse thick in his throat.

“Friendship?” Steve asks quietly. The branches above them rustle, but no bird takes flight.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie tries to reassure him. “You know coming home to you is the best part of my day. I don’t ever want you to think you’re unwelcome. I came back and the place was empty, and I was gutted.” He hesitates before saying it, the truth almost too raw. “It’s not home unless you’re there.”

Steve remains still and silent for one pregnant pause, before nodding to himself like he’s come to a decision. He slowly turns to face Eddie, the tight wariness starting to soften. “I missed you,” he says plainly. “You’ll just give me that look if I try to say anything about you not being obliged to stay with me at home, but just let me know next time. I worry.”

Tracing the smudges under Steve’s eyes, finally seeing the lines etched into his face that he hadn’t allowed himself to initially find, Eddie suspects that in the usual Steve Harrington way that he is underselling his concern. He carefully steps forward, taking Steve into his embrace who hugs him back immediately, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulders.

“I won’t do it again,” Eddie promises.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

Tag list:

My tag list is always open, so let me know if you want to be added. Likewise, if you want to be removed, let me know. :)

@bookworm0690, @child-of-cthulhu, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @finntheehumaneater, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @gutterflower77, @hallucinatedjosten, @just-a-tiny-void, @ledleaf, @littlewildflowerkitten, @manda-panda-monium, @mightbeasleep, @nburkhardt, @newtstabber, @stillfullofshit, @tartarusknight

#steddie #time travel #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #a tarnished copper boy #paperbackribs writing

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a-local-idiots-shitpost · 1 year

Text

Locals Writing Prompts Part 1

nothing but Locals usual stupidity

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

1. "Why is there a corpse and a acid bath"

"it's my self care day"

"this is no explanation what so ever"

"really? I thought it was pretty good"

2. "why are you holding a bottle of poison?"

"To depen our friendship and trust?"

"Congratulations you just achieved the opposite"

3. "Where did you get a dog from?"

"This poor little guy was sitting in a hot car for hours!"

"It's good that you saved the dog but what did I tell you about watching people"

"that we can't afford another lawsuit because losers think I stalk them despite me just wanting their pets"

"could have done without the losers but yes"

4. "Why are you holding roses?"

"Is it so suspicious I'm trying to be romantic?"

"It's you, of course it is"

5. (watching their beloved try and fail at opening a glass jar) "what did I do to deserve them"

6. "Okay I can explain"

"the kitchen is covered in blood and you in bandages so I hope it's good"

7. "Why is the house burning?"

"Okay in my defense you thought it was good idea to leave me alone"

8. "I found another kitten :D"

"beating someone up and taking their pet because they are a shit owner doesn't count as finding"

9. "Frog buddy :D"

"this one is poisonous"

"oh so that's why my skin itches and you look like a funky 5 eyed cow"

10. "Why are you holding flowers?"

"because I love you?"

"You love nothing, what did you do?"

11. "Go to sleep, you look ugly and tired again"

"I'm always tired and ugly"

12. "Why are you holding a cake"

"I wanted to do something nice"

"you never do nice things"

13. "Where did you get a cat from?"

"Business secret"

"theft isn't a business secret"

14. "Did you just kiss me"

"aren't we together?"

"Yes and the last time I tried to hug you, you panicked and nearly broke one of your bones"

15. "Why are you calling me when it's 3AM"

"(screaming coming out of the phone)"

"please don't tell me you went through with your bank robbery plan"

"well..."

16. "I made cookies"

"are they safe to eat"

"yeah I tried them myself"

"I meant for somebody that isn't you"

17. "Meow"

"you aren't a cat"

"how do you know that?"

"for one you don't have whiskers" "what if I cut them off?"

"Please just shut the fuck up"

18. "I bought a venus flytrap"

"because you think they are really funny"

"I actualy hoped they would eat one of my roommates but yeah they are funny too"

19. "Did you steal my snack?"

"No"

"you are covered in crumbs"

"yeah from my own food"

"lying snake"

"you stole mine first, I'll call it getting even"

20. "I love you more than anything in the world and would die and kill for you"

"are you talking to the dog again?"

"Yeah who else?"

"Sometimes I wonder why I married you"

#locals writing prompts #local shouldn't be allowed to think #I usually use this tag for my stupid ideas #but honestly it fits for this one too

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the-writing-mobster · 10 months

Note

miscellaneous hcs about the baby face characters? 🙏

What a pleasantly surprising ask, dear heart!

Hmmmm...

———

MISC BF! Sans HCs:

1. He knows all the words to every Chop Suey song and shouts them at the top of his lungs while driving.

2. He lies about his zodiac sign (he has 3 major Scorpio placements but he always lies about them)

3. Sans loves mosh pits but hates crowd surfers because once he didn't notice a huge man coming and he fell on him; his neck was sore for three days straight.

4. He steals construction equipment to make belt chains, and to disrupt building projects he doesn't agree with.

MISC BF! Nick HCs:

1. He has a lot of Opinions about the Backstreet Boys. Please do not bring them up or else it will be all he rants about for an hour straight.

2. Likewise, Nick once tried working at a radio station but quit because the manager wouldn't play any of the music Nick wanted to play. (He's petty like that sometimes)

3. Nick is the kind of guy to catch spiders and put them outside because "they do so much for the environment >:( don't kill them just because they're small!"

4. He refuses to get a driver's license because he doesn't want to be dependent on cars. (He hates L.A... and is dependent on Sans, who has a car)

MISC BF! Maeve HCs:

1. 80% of her wardrobe was handmade, the other 20% was thrifted (mostly the denim)

2. She frequents drag shows when she can and is a big tipper with her gig money, and is a good friend to many local queens.

3. The only reason she hasn't chopped her mane off to conclude her transition is because she enjoys styling it like Glam Rockstars and Trad Goths of the 80s.

4. She is definitely a dungeon master. Maeve would fucking love DND, and only she is qualified to run them.

MISC BF! Midas HCs:

1. Has keyed cars with bigoted bumper stickers, and ripped confederate flags down on private property. He does not give a shit about optics or the property laws.

2. Probably owns more spikes and studs than anyone else in the group.

3. Midas has named all of his lil snakes, but every time the boys ask for an introduction, he gives them the wrong names just to fuck with them.

4. He has a really interesting singing voice, but he hates to sing and prefers his funky little synth sounds.

MISC BF! Jonas HCs:

1. He puts stickers all over his belongings. Bitch loves a vinyl sticker.

2. Jonas 100% believes he does the best backflips, and while he's pretty good, he has a 70% Eat Shit ratio to his 30% Stick the Landing Ratio. (Sans is keeping track)

3. Jonas is extremely efficient in a fist fight and has surprised people with how easy he can knock someone out. This has come in handy at a protest and at a concert when a girl's ex was acting *problematic.*

4. His voice cracks all the time because he's a little (big, 6'9 ft) squirt 🤭. That's right, he's a whimperer.

And guess what? They've all been fairy god mothered into humans for my manuscript >:) but that is a tale for another time.

#underfell #wdyw #baby face #please feel free to leave your pwn hcs and Ill see if theyre accurate ;)#nick #jonas #midas #maeve #bf! boys #baby face headcanons #highschool au #underfell sans #let me know if there's a specific character you want HCs for #because the default is for the band hehehehe #fanfic #ocs #ask and answer #thank you for the ask!

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negative-speedforce · 2 months

Note

For Pyrrha and Kayla!

Appearance 1, 5, 19

Objects 6, 8, 16

Food and Drink 7, 15

Weather and Nature 4, 10, 17

Community and Relationships 3, 4, 10

Mind, Body and Soul 3, 5, 14

Hobbies and Activities 6, 7, 16

Under the cut to save space

APPEARANCE

1: What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

Pyrrha likes her right arm, which, when she loses her flesh hand to Nyx, she uses to still have sense of touch, as her left arm is cybernetic up to the shoulder and her right is only up to the wrist.

Kayla is very proud of her naturally ginger curls, which she works very hard to keep in pristine shape.

5: What are your character's opinion on scars?

Pyrrha doesn't really get an opinion on scars, since her body is covered with them. She doesn't hate them, per se, but she would prefer to live without them.

Kayla is fairly neutral about scars, both her own and other people's. She doesn't have an opinion either way.

19: If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

Pyrrha technically does have tattoos! After slowly finding her autonomy, Pyrrha chooses to have designs she likes etched into her cybernetics, since there's not much skin for her to work with. Her favorite are a pair of branches that snake up her left arm from the hand, eventually culminating in a large flower over the elbow joint.

Tattoos are kinda off the cards for Kayla, since they're quite identifiable and her whole line of work involves subterfuge. However, if she were to get a tattoo, I'd say that she'd want some paper cranes on her ribs.

OBJECTS

6: What is something your character is proud to own?

Pyrrha is super happy about the first item of clothing that she bought for herself after defecting- a gigantic, oversized, extremely fluffy red jacket.

Kayla is proud of her toolkit- many items of which she built herself, and can be used as weapons if things go to shit and her mission gets found out.

8: What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Not much. Pyrrha is used to living in scarcity. Unless she needs something to survive, she's not going to attach too much emotional weight to an inanimate object.

Kayla would definitely have trouble giving up something she was attached to, especially if it was from her birth parents, who died in a car accident (HYDRA Assassination) when she was a little kid. It'd probably have to be a life-or-death scenario for her.

16: Is your character willing to ask for things?

Due to growing up in such a hostile environment, Pyrrha doesn't ask for anything, whether it be food, medical care, or anything else. Showing vulnerability could lead to either her being punished, or being attacked by the other members of the program she was in.

Kayla has trouble asking for things, since she's currently undercover in a fascist organization trying to take it down from the inside out. There's not many people she can trust. However, if she knows she can trust someone (i.e. Dori), she will ask for help.

FOOD AND DRINK

7: Is there food that has made your character sick?

Pyrrha can't eat a lot of foods, especially stuff that's acidic or spicy, since her entire digestive system is artificial.

Kayla is allergic to pineapple, so if she has anything with pinapple in it, her face will swell up.

15: What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Pyrrha likes spicy snacks! Since she can't eat them very often (at all), the few times a year she indulges and eats something that she'll probably regret for the next few weeks are very special to her.

Kayla's basically a cheesecake addict. She doesn't eat it often because it's not that good for you, but when she's having a bad day, she'll pick up a slice of cheesecake from her local bakery.

WEATHER AND NATURE

4: Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Pyrrha has been through enough that not much fazes her anymore. However, I don't think she'd like to be caught up in a volcanic eruption, specifically, a pyroclastic flow.

Since she grew up in Colorado before moving to DC with her great uncle, Kayla has a fear of blizzards. It's not that bad, but she always gets really antsy before one.

10: How would your character react to snow?

Since Pyrrha spent her entire life living on a Star Destroyer, she would be absolutely fascinated and probably turn into a massive 6 year old, since before she defected, she had never even experienced rain.

Kayla just finds snow annoying, given that she grew up in Colorado and then DC. It's not that big of a deal to her, she just finds it inconvenient.

17: Is your character good with plants?

Pyrrha never even saw a plant before defecting, so no. She'd kill it in a heartbeat.

Kayla would be good with plants if she had the time for them, but given her current schedule? No.

COMMUNITY AND RELATIONSHIPS

3: How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Due to her sheltered upbringing, she never experienced music or dancing prior to defecting, so she'd have no idea what to do and probably assume it was some kind of mass hysteria.

Kayla would quite literally rather die, thank you very much. She's not great at dancing and would hate to do it in front of others.

4: Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Yes and no? Pyrrha doesn't really understand the taboo about being open about your emotions, but at the same time, she was raised in such a restrictive environment that she doesn't always know the language to express herself.

Not at all. Prior to dedicating her life to destroying HYDRA, Kayla was a very warm, open person, but now that her life and the future of the world depend on her being able to keep secrets, she's like a locked safe.

10: Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

While Pyrrha does have a strong safety net after defecting and slowly growing into herself, she doesn't realize how much those people care, because she had to fend for herself for so long.

Kayla knows that Dori and (unless she was caught betraying HYDRA) her great-uncle would care if she was injured, but she's not sure how many other people would care, given that she's pushed away most of her connections in order to keep them safe.

MIND, BODY, AND SOUL

3: Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Given that her name was literally inspired by the phrase "Pyrrhic Victory", when backed into a corner, Pyrrha fights like a caged animal, with no care for her own life and safety, only destroying what's threatening her.

Technically "fight", but Kayla's less likely to physically fight than to try to mind-game someone out of trouble. She'll lie her ass off, and sound pretty believable doing it.

5: What words could tear your character down?

"Nyx was right. You are nothing but a weapon."

"You failed. It's over."

14: Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

"I'm not going to leave. You're worth it."

"You're a hero, Kayla."

HOBBIES AND ACTIVITIES

6: Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

Pyrrha's actually pretty good with finding creative ways to solve problems, given that she spent 14 years of her life finding ways to get around Nyx.

Kayla, being an engineer, is far better with technical endeavors. She's a very steadfast, stubborn person, so being creative isn't exactly her forte.

7: What is a talent that your character is proud of?

After getting over her fear of doctors, Pyrrha interns with the Resistance medical team to become a field medic. With her artificially steady hands and better-than-human vision, she becomes a valued member of the crew, especially when it comes to things like delicate, overly complex surgeries.

Kayla is proud of her ability to keep secrets and lie. She's basically a locked vault when it comes to such things, especially since the slightest tell could jeopardize her mission and ruin everything she's worked for.

16: What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Since Pyrrha's twin, Zahrya, is a pilot, flying reminds her of them, especially when Zahrya is on a long mission and she doesn't know how long they'll be gone.

Kayla's dad was a mechanic, so her work in engineering reminds her of him. Also, while she is unaware of this until far later, she is technically carrying on her parents' legacy by working to take down HYDRA, something which they were killed for.

#ask revan #oc shit #practically-an-x-man #pyrrha auclair #kayla pierce-addams

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carlosfruitsnacks · 2 years

Note

due to recent events (at the time of this request anyway LMAOOOOOOO)

i think its only right if you write a carlos x reader (could be fem or gn) crackfic where he shapeshifts into a rabid dog in defense of the reader because one of his friends tried getting on in his insult saying that the reader is stupid

bonus if the reader is calmly doing something completely oblivious that a frothing rabid carlos as a dog is furiously chasing his own "friends" with a pocket knife on his mouth aimed at them is occurring behind them LMAO

"rabid danger"

summary:

— Your boyfriend has always been the overprotective type, you know it. But unbeknownst to you, Carlos will go to any lengths to protect you, and yes, that includes shapeshifting into a dog with his mouth foaming and shit.

genre:

— crackfic

notes:

— gender-neutral reader, Carlos shapeshifts into animals. I do not speak fluent Spanish and all of the Spanish here is translated from google, feel free to correct me if I got something wrong though I will refrain from using too much Spanish.

warning/s:

— rabid Carlos lmfao

a/n:

— one fucking crackfic filled with fresh crack coming your way <333

Being in a relationship with the one and only Carlos Madrigal was the best. You adore him with all your heart and soul and you're aware that he feels the same with you too, even if he doesn't show it that much. Carlos was...bizarre when it came to showing acts of affection. He likes to tease and insult you relentlessly, luckily, you don't get ticked off by it. He enjoys playing pranks on you but not to the point that'll hurt you. And he loves to do these weird things like sticking his tongue out and hissing like a snake every time something bothers him. When you would cuddle with him he'd unknowingly purr. Oh, and he likes to lick your cheek...a lot.

Despite your lover's very unusual behavior, you love him just the way he is. Today was any other day, the weather was particularly amazing so you asked Carlos out for a date. At first, he declines, you know he's not fond of public dates but then you pulled the magic trick on him and gave him the puppy dog eyes (his weakness) so he reluctantly says yes.

You drag your boyfriend around town, buying food and chatting with each other. You two decided to have lunch at your local eatery. Carlos would play a prank or two by transforming either into a snake or an insect to watch your horrified reaction. It was at that eatery did Carlos' friends showed up. They're a couple of dudes sneering at you but you were too busy eating your food. Carlos pipes up.

"Ey, pendejo, what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to ask if you guys have room for three"

"This is my date-"

"Oh, sure! Have a seat Andrés!"

You said with a smile. This guy, Andrés, along with his gang joined you two for lunch. They gingerly ordered food and interrupted Carlos' moment with you. He couldn't protest because of your kindness, you were always the kindhearted among you both so for your sake, he glues his lips shut. He glares at his friends as they keep hogging on all the fun.

Midway, you noticed that you have ordered the wrong food but you can't take it back since you've practically devoured it already. You frowned and turned to your boyfriend.

"Aw, amor, I ordered the wrong food but I can't ask for a refund because I already ate it"

"So, you're telling me, you didn't notice that you ordered the wrong food when you started eating it?"

"Lo siento. I was too hungry to notice"

You pouted at Carlos, the latter lets out a sigh and rubbed his temples as he whispered a string of curses.

"Ugh, you're such an idiot, [Name]"

"I'll just go order the food I want right now! Oh wait, I have no money..."

"And you're so stupid too"

Carlos rolled his eyes and handed you some spare money, your eyes twinkled as you took the money and went to go order more food. The shapeshifter kept an eye on you. One of his friends chuckled.

"So, you and [Name], huh? Never thought that would happen"

"Well, it did, cállate Santiago"

His friend, Santiago, scoffs and shoves food into his mouth. Carlos gives him a glare before checking on his lover, you were stumbling over your words while asking if it's possible to get a refund even if you have already eaten the food. Carlos groans and runs a hand through his curls.

"Oye Carlos, why'd have to go out with [Name]? There's a lot of other choices out there but you decided to stoop this low"

"It's none of your fucking business, Diego"

Carlos spat at Diego, the boy shuddered as he saw the animalistic look in his eyes. Andrés listened to the entire conversation and let out a laugh, Carlos raised a brow at him and looked at him, dangerously.

"Looks like [Name] isn't done getting their food yet"

"I know, they're such a fucking dumbass sometimes"

"Yeah, [Name]'s really dumb-"

At the speed of light, Carlos slammed his fist on the table, merely breaking it. All three of his friends flinched and looked at him wide-eyed. One of the things that irritated Carlos Madrigal the most is whenever someone would talk shit about you. It was only him who had the right to do that, no other person is allowed to do it. Carlos is aware of how nasty he can be when he's jealous but he's more terrifying when someone dares to shit-talk you.

"You fucking take that back"

Carlos whispered with venom towards Andrés, the other watched as his features were slowly morphing into a snake. His irises turned into slits as he began to hiss at him, Andrés tried to say something but the fear in his system beats him to it.

"I said, YOU FUCKING TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT [NAME]!"

"Carlos you need to chill! ¡Cálmate, muchacho!"

"Oh, you ain't calming me down, cabrón!"

"Come on, compadre! I was just being honest!"

"Oh yeah? Nobody gives a shit what you think, pendejo! But the moment you open that stupid mouth of yours and say stupid shit about mi amor I knew I had to fucking knock that head of yours to see if your brain's still there functioning!"

The shapeshifter hisses. Every one of his friends started bolting out to the door to escape him but Carlos was not having it. He momentarily lets out a loud groan as he reverted his form from a snake and then shapeshifts into a large Doberman with his pocket knife in his foaming mouth. Carlos now in dog form, growls and starts to chase after the three guys at full speed.

Meanwhile, you're patiently waiting for your food to be cooked while oblivious to the chaos occurring behind you. Humming, you're thinking if you wanted to order some extra food for Carlos, you were about to turn around and ask him personally but debated against it. You placed your chin on top of your knuckles while Carlos chased his friends behind you, drool dripping down to his chin as he keeps the pocketknife steady in his mouth.

"Here's your order!"

"¡Gracias!"

You grabbed your food, you were about to witness your boyfriend terrorizing his friends until you noticed that the food you ordered didn't have the sauce you requested.

"Excuse me? You forgot my sauce"

"Oh, my bad, let me get it for you!"

You smile and waited again. For some reason, you're oddly deaf to the blood-curling screams of Carlos' (ex) friends as he goes completely rabid on each one of them as a dog while frothing in the mouth. You're somewhat immune to what's happening in the background. Finally, your sauce arrives.

"Here you go"

"Thanks!"

With your food, you turn around to see....your lovely boyfriend sitting and patiently waiting for you, not a hair out of place. You grinned and sat across him, you gazed around to find his friends gone.

"Hmm? Where's Andrés and the others?"

"They left. Andrés' dog probably went rabid because he's a shitty dog owner who doesn't know when to shut the fuck up"

You emitted a loud cackle at Carlos' supposed joke, your boyfriend softly smiles at you for it. He watches you eat your food and enjoys the rest of your date as he pretends that he didn't just shapeshift into a fucking Doberman, foaming on the mouth, chasing his old friends until they got tired and left them with bruises and cuts outside the street. No, Carlos is just an overprotective boyfriend who loves you with all his heart. Yes, definitely not the boyfriend who beats up whoever talks shit about you. Haha...there's nothing to see here.

masterlist

#encanto #disney encanto #encanto fanfic #encanto fanfiction #carlos madrigal #carlos my beloved #carlos madrigal my beloved #carlos madrigal x reader #carlos madrigal x y/n #carlos x you #carlos x reader #carlos x y/n #crackfic #rabid carlos supremacy #jay's fanfics™️#jay's crack fics™️

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stillhavetodothat · 1 year

Text

Replaying Nancy Drew without Cheating - Part 8: Danger on Deception Island

I’m going to go ahead and argue that this game, this charming, riveting, addictive game, is the start of a series of 3-5 games that are universally beloved by the Nancy Drew community. I don’t know many people who don’t genuinely have a nostaglic love for this game, me included. In fact, I would have considered this my second favorite for many many years, right after Treasure in a Royal Tower, which can never be replaced in my heart.

I’m also going to go ahead and tell you: this was the first game that I didn’t feel like I needed to cheat even once. The only thing I slightly struggled with was the anagram puzzle from Hilda (BTW, I have a bone to pick with Nancy’s “handy dandy Anagram Buster.” How is this thing handy dandy? I can do what it does using a sheet of paper. It doesn’t bust anagrams at all. Who would have made such a useless piece of software?) Overall though, I don’t think the puzzles are particularly hard, and there’s always something to do next, so there is very little aimless meandering about in confusion. I’ve also played this a fair number of times, so there’s that too.

This is a classic and will always be one of my absolute favorites. It has some of the coolest, most unique elements out of any game, not to mention a top notch soundtrack, and I can guarantee that I will be replaying this game for many years to come.

Some of my thoughts:

1. I think one thing I like about this game is that it is a lot of looking around/snooping/figuring things out by yourself; the game does not rely on having a bunch of conversations with the suspects. In fact, in this play-through, I was surprised at how little Nancy actually does chat with other characters. There were times I was CRAVING some human interaction, but all I could say to people was “It was nice talking to you,” despite the fact that I hadn’t been TALKING to anyone at all.

2. Weird that the first thing Nancy does in this game is get obsessed with a random piece of driftwood that she finds in the water. Who even is she. I relate less and less to Nancy with each passing game.

3. Once again, fuck Nancy’s anagram buster. I hate anagrams, and I hate false advertising.

4. Katie Firestone will never not be a knock-off, more boring Joanna Riggs to me. She is so whiny and boring that giving her food poisoning actually gives me a goddamn dopamine rush (also, WHY does she have some much expired shit in her fridge anyway? The woman JUST went grocery shopping). Despite the fact that you never actually see her do anything wrong, I don’t blame the town for disliking her. I’d love nothing more than to grab my torch and pitchfork and run her out of Snake Horse Harbor alongside clam chowder queen Jenna Deblin and dungeness crab daddy Holt Scotto.

5. Speaking of Holt Scotto, someone go and check that man’s cholesterol levels. He must be slowly eating every male dungeness crab within 10 miles of Snake Horse Harbor, based on how he takes all the crabs visitors bring him and cryptically says that he’ll “take care of that crab” for you.

6. The whole storyline of the tunnels under the town and the history of shanghaiing was the best part of this game. Wandering around underground, actually figuring out on your own (without having to be explicitely told) that the burglars had to have been using the tunnels to rob all the local businesses, finding your way into the sea caves - all very fun gameplay.

7. As cool as finding the orca in the sea caves is, I can’t imagine how scared shitless I would be in real life.

8. Why is Dr. Predoviciu casually the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen? Girl, TELL ME YOUR HAIR CARE ROUTINE!!

9. After winning a whale watching tour with Andy Jason and taking a bunch of photos, Nancy thanks Andy for letting her use his camera. Uh, is she getting these pictures at any point? Is he going to send her a USB flash drive or some shit? Why didn’t Nancy have her own camera (as a supposedly semi-famous and always prepared amateur detective)?? This makes absolutely no sense to me.

10. Why do we then basically have to force Andy to give us a keychain after the tour, when the keychain probably costs about 50 cents? The sign says the keychain is free to “everyone who takes our whale watching tour,” NOT to “everyone who PAYS for our whale watching tour.” What a crock of bullshit. For some reason, I had a crush on Andy Jason as a kid (that curly hair! that weirdly buff body!) but this playthrough made me realize that I actually loathe him to my very core.

11. Therefore, there is nothing more satisfying than this moment (not even making Katie Firestone throw up over the side of her boat):

12. Speaking of the ending, this game may have the best (or at least one of the best) ending sequences of any game. The fact that Nancy goes up to a RANDOM ASS FREIGHT BOAT, in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, CLIMBS ABOARD, has to STEALTHILY HIDE ON DECK TO NOT GET CAUGHT BY POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS SMUGGLERS, and then FIND KATIE TIED UP BELOW DECK??? Fucking genius. Amazing. It might be the stupidest thing Nancy ever does (the only person she tells her plan to is ANDY FUCKING JASON, after all, so there is no one who would know where to look should she go missing), but it leads to a high-stakes, adrenaline-pumping last several minutes.

13. Hilda. Hilda MF Swenson. The fact that she calls Nancy the millisecond that Nancy finds whatever she was looking for is absolutely hilarious. Hilda is literally spending her life just watching Nancy’s every move through her binoculars, and giving her convoluted, long-winded puzzles to solve for absolutely no reason. Hilda is a more entertaining character than all the others put together.

Ugh, what a fantastic game. The only thing that is keeping me going after finishing is the knowledge that the next few games are equally as brilliant, so I know that I have much to look forward to. On my way to get screamed at by Shorty for picking a slightly underripe green bean. <3

#nancy drew #nancy drew games #nancy drew pc games #her interactive #danger on deception island

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fatedwithmbc · 1 year

Text

I love break week. There’s something about NOT having to take those purple Alka-Seltzer sized tablets that makes me feel the tiniest bit normal. Aside from still having moderate levels of fatigue, my dysphagia has taken a break from disrupting my eating and I’m sleeping well.

I’m making my leave of absence goals happen too. I may be sleeping late, but I am getting physical movement or chores done every day. I am getting my ass out of bed and doing shit. I’m proud of my new self- but also mourning the old self who could run circles around new me.

The grill I bought yesterday was delivered today. It’s all set-up, tested and now safely covered. I was able to get the old one out to the front yard (Mom-Mom helped with some of the harder parts, i.e. porch stairs). And now I just need to pray that a scrapper will drive by and snag it up Thursday night/Friday morning.

Aside from that, I filled the bird feeder. Checked on the brood in our bird house (still chirping away) which is a highlight for me. Just hearing those little guys and knowing they were born and are being cared for in a couple pieces of wood just makes me happy. And I feel protective of them even though I can’t see them. I see the parents though. The males are known to be aggressive, so I am very careful when I approach the underside of the birdhouse just to get an earful of their warbling. They are House Wrens (if I identified the adults correctly).

Next was filling Bailey’s water dish and watering the Dragon Tail I received from my friend Allace. It was sheer irony that she picked that plant to give me as it was one of my Dad’s favorites. He would select them for his own garden, when he decided to create and tend to one. He had a green thumb and could care for a plant instinctively, without instruction. I think a tiny bit of that may have been passed down to me as I’ve been able to keep my African Violet growing and healthy- same with our Prayer Plant and a Shamrock that I repotted (it had been on it’s last legs and last sprig). It has thrived since repotting. Same with our Wandering Jew. I have a few more I’d like to replant by the end of summer: a Christmas Cactus, a Bird’s Nest Snake plant and I’ll probably find something to nurse at Primex.

Plants aside, I completed the “chores” I had. Mostly admin tasks to ensure my leave of absence is on track to end when my doctor indicated and not earlier. I also enrolled in a vendor program called Prudent RX that will aid me with the costs of my cancer medication until my deductible is met. This will be a huge help. Insurance pays $13,000 per month for this drug and that is definitely not in the realm of affordable for this average “Jane”. I contacted my nurse navigator to get a definitive answer as to where my lab work needs to be completed. I’ve always gone to the cancer center, but I need to ensure it’s in-network and that I don’t need to use Quest or LabCorp. I suspect I’ll have to go outside of the cancer center. I also made an outreach to a local woman who unfortunately lost her teenage son to cancer. She created a foundation and I contribute what I can since it’s inception. But ultimately, I was asking if she had a suggestion for a support group. This was a suggestion from Cheryl and such a good one as now I have a woman who has MBC that I can talk to- who wears my shoes, feels my feelings, and is still coping and living despite the diagnosis.

With the medical chores completed, I was finally able to drop off my Sister-In-Law’s Mother’s Day gift. We were able to spend some time chatting which was nice. It’s been awhile since her and I had some time together- well, my last visit with all of them was Easter and/or Jackson’s first T-Ball game. He has another one tomorrow that I hope to make it to. I briefly saw my brother before they had to pick Jackson up from school.

I went to Starbucks prior to stopping back home to change into sneakers for Walking Wednesday with Brian. We walked about 3ish miles. I didn’t wear my watch or bring my phone, so this is a guesstimate. I like not having my phone or watch - it makes me more present as to what’s on the trail and by the water (animals; mostly the birds, today some deer) and more present in my conversations with Brian. Gosh, I’m just so lucky he was chosen and accepted the role of my God Father. He has been so amazingly supportive. He’s encouraged me to walk everyday, but I’m not sure I’m there yet. I also told him about my blog, and stressed it’s anonymous with the exception of a few close friends and family who know about it. I’m on the fence about sharing with him. He encouraged my writing, stating it’s cathartic and it is. I don’t do this because I’m “good” at it. I do it to clear my mind and my heart. Am I betraying him by not sharing this with him? More food for thought.

I still have my two big projects: yarn donation and closet clean out. I’ll start on them, but they feel overwhelming- maybe because it means I am getting rid of things. I have unusual sentimental attachment to things. Clothes and yarn typically don’t fall into that space, but I don’t know how else to explain the avoidance of either task aside from them requiring significant effort. I will do these things. They will get done. Shoot, I’ve done more difficult things (my small contribution to cleaning out Dad’s apartment).

Well, as midnight approaches, I’m going to let my magical Apple Ring Hybrid Gummy help me drift off to dream land.

El fin.

#fated with mbc #confessions of a cancer patient #stage iv deserves more #metastatic breast cancer #stage iv metastatic breast cancer #breast cancer

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jonathanbiers · 1 year

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i appreciate your “don’t buy reptiles from chain stores” bc like yeah!!! don’t!!! they’re rarely taken care of. i’m even iffy about local stores sometimes bc there’s that youtube guy who owns his own store and he is horribly over breeding. BUT the point of this was me just to shit on chain stores and i appreciate that you said that 😂 not at all biased as a local pet store employee

omg i know who you’re talking about!!!! i don’t remember his name but he focuses on ball pythons and breeds for color patterns that are known to cause that head wobble thing (i don’t know much about ball pythons so i don’t remember specifics) i definitely saw some of his videos and thought the vibe he gave off was creepy as hell 😭 but yeaaa i held off on getting a snake for so long until i found the one a couple towns away bc i felt iffy about buying online too. which is basically the only reason i’ve never gotten an egg eating snake bc i wanted one so bad man they’re so cool but so hard to find. so instead i have a corn snake with an attitude problem

#roykentt #i love her tho she’s just a lot

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year

Text

Dec 5 Gingerbread... first apartment

Media Lewis

Character Adam Douglas

Couple Adam X Reader

Rating Cute

5th of December 2022

I laid on our bed already bored with my textbook, while y/n was sitting at her desk working away on her paper for class.

"babe"

"Yes?"

"I'm bored"

"Okay"

"You wanna go do something?"

"Like what?"

"you wanna go to the Christmas market?"

"Nah. too busy"

"go to the coffee shop? get a nice festive brew?"

"No, too expensive"

"A walk in the snow?"

"Too cold"

"Did you wanna... make some Christmas cookies?"

"Maybe, what kind?"

"Gingerbread house?"

"....Yeah okay"

"Woooo!" I smiled jumping off the bed and grabbing her hand pulling her out of her chair and out of our bedroom into the kitchen "Let's pop on some festive tunes and get baking"

"Alright, Peppermint gingerbread?" she asks getting her little cookbook and tieing her apon around her wait

"ummm you know me well my love" I smirked cuddling her closely as she baked the dough for the cookies

"Would you like to make the shapes?"

"Yes, I would! what are you going to make?"

"A little house, just some basic house shapes, two people, and a few 3d trees"

"Oohh getting fancy" I smiled making her the shapes "I think... I'm going to make a mansion with a garage, pool, bulter and small dog" making my own shapes

"Alright adam, if your sure" she giggled "Now I'll watch those cook, you go and get our decor" she smiled

"Okay, anything specific?" I asked her grabbing my coat and shoes

"I'd like Maltesers and caramel buttons for sure"

"No problem. won't be long" I smiled giving her a kiss before grabbing my wallet and heading out of our little house heading down the cold snow-covered streets the snow still battering me as I walked luckily it wasn't far to the local corner shop quickly ducking inside "Afternoon" I smiled

"Afternoon, cold out," He says at the counter

I wondered around collecting up everything into my basket, Laces, buttons, Maltesers, kinder, gummy bears, Smarties, candy canes, chocolate coins, gumdrops, and basically everything else they had in their sweet confectionary section and taking it all over to the till he looked at everything as he scanned it and then looked at me

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. we're making gingerbread houses"

"Ohh, I thought you'd just really pissed her off."

"Well. not yet" I laughed handing over some cash and taking my bag scurrying back out into the snow before arriving back home and quickly coming inside snaking the snow off me "I'm back my love!"

"did you get the sweeties?"

"I did, how's the bread?"

"all baked, and the icing is sitting in the mixer"

"excellent. then it's time to decorate!"

I worked for what felt like several hours while the snow fluttered outside the window my plans had uhhh... downsized a little given my... skills. not being helped but y/ns sweet perfect little house it was a cute little cottage with caramel button shingle roof, little iced trees, chocolate coin path, little gummy bear string lights, a little pink waffer door and all manner of other perfection.

"All done" she smiled putting her last bit of icing sugar snow dusting on her house "How about you"

"I uhhh I think so"

"what do you think?" she asks

"it's... beautiful. seriously it's perfect. this is what like M&S would use in an advert. it's beautiful my love"

"Thank you adam" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss "what have you made?"

"well... due to planning boards and budgets, and overall handy work we had to downsize. from a mansion with pool, dog, and butter to.... gingerbread... first apartment. his bed is in his living room. and the shower is so close to the toilet you could realistically pee while in the shower." I explained "But still little ginger dog. he may not have all his legs but he is still a ginger dog"

"It's adorable adam" she giggled giving me a cuddle

"Mine looks really shit compared to yours doesn't it?"

"No, it's just as perfect. let's be honest adam if this apartment was in central London it would be six figures a month"

"True, at least we can eat mine. and keep yours beautiful"

"Sounds like a good plan" she smiled taking my wall and heading to the sofa so I took a wall to and went to join her.

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theagents23 · 12 days

Text

The Agents 2

The Rise Of Fat Black - Part 2

*Along the beautiful sun bathed coast of Bolivia, a village of favelas overlooks an ancient ruin reclaimed by nature and teaming with life and foliage. Fat Black had formed an alliance with some ambitious locals, who'd put together a large team of workers ready to clear the brush so they could raid and remove the stone structures. The plan was to use the land for coca and popeye fields despite the numerous warning from the elders of the village. Fat Black didn't care, his thirst for conquest too great to be warded away by superstition. Upon raiding the site for valuable artifacts, the team of workers came across something they couldn't make heads or tails of. At 23:00 hours they summoned Fat Black to La Botanica De Castanos to observe a glowing golden disc.

Fat Black: That's an oroborus.

Worker: Que eso?

Fat Black: Usually it's a snake eating it's tail, but this one seems to be a dragon.

Worker: How much?

Fat Black: Couple grand, unless we find someone to appraise it, then it could be more but that costs money up front. Is that all you found?

Worker: Nah, this was just interesting to me personally. What I really wanted to show you is inside.

*The worker leads Slim past the lanterns and tents pitched outside, through the entrance hall lined with torches and lanterns, past the room where three men were sawing away at the braces holding a large golden idol in place. They Come upon a room with a large stone alter in the center and the worker turns around beaming with excitement.*

Worker: This was the sacrifice room. Check out the hieroglyphs, they're like instructions on how the ritual was performed.

Fat Black: You called me out here for this?

Worker: The people they'd sacrifice would usually have personal affects on them; you know jewelery, ornamentations, trinkets n shit. But they weren't petty thieves so they gathered whatever they had on them once they were done and put it somewhere sacred.

*The worker pushes the top of the alter and it slides open. When Fat Black walks around it to see what was inside his eyes grow wide with excitement. It was full of golden jewelry and decorative pieces, it was a real live treasure chest.*

Fat Black: Why didn't you bring this out of here, you didn't need to leave it in here just to show me, we got work to do. What am I paying you for?

*The worker snickers.*

Worker: Cuz yo, none of us are touchin that shit. Do you see what's mixed in there? Those are human teeth and jaw bones. This is a mass grave of all the people who died here's shit. Those are pieces of them or the people they killed. Now we got what we wanted from the rest of the place but we figure fair is fair, this here is yours if you want it. If not we'll find a buyer. But I just figured we let you get a look so you can decide for yourself.

Fat Black: I don't give a fuck, of course I want it.

Worker: Yeah, well the elders told us what's happened to everyone who's come here thinking they could take what they want. I'm happy with what I got but if you want all that you're gonna have to haul it out yourself. They're all decided on how they feel about it and I can pretty much say the same. To be honest it kind of freaks me out being in here.

Fat Black: Whatever, I'll take this piece right here for now.

*As the boss slid the ring off of the skeletal finger, screams of agony are heard from outside. He drops both and the two men tear from the room. When they reach outside they see a bunch of men crowded around one laying on the ground motionless.*

Worker: QUE PASO!?

*A group of frantic men crowd around Fat Black's worker giving their accounts of what had taken place.*

Fat Black: WELL?

Worker: They said something big picked this dude up in it's mouth, tore a chunk out of him, and then took off into the woods.

Fat Black: What do you mean something big? What the hell could've done that?

Worker: They don't know.

Fat Black: Aw hell no, VERNON! GET ME MY RIFLE!

*Vernon yells back from off in the distance.*

Vernon: THE BIG ONE OR THE LIL ONE!?

Fat Black: BOTH!

*Slim looks back at the worker named Jose.*

Fat Black: Tell the boys we goin huntin.

#mine #the agents 2 #fat black #yoshi #mario bros #dbz #dragonball #dragon ball

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amarantine-amirite · 5 months

Text

Blue

I was an artist. I worked in an art store, though. We were considered 'specialists', educating people on oils, acrylics, mediums, and clay. Sometimes, we sold finger paints and plasticine.

I was in a long-term relationship with the love of my life. I never took him for granted and I thought we were going to go all the way. I was wrong.

In January 2018, he suddenly dumped me via text message that said "I got the 7-year itch - it's over, Jane." By this point, I hope his seven-year itch has turned into some form of STD.

It wasn't my fault the relationship fell apart. He didn't understand that working retail in a wealthy area exposes you to a special kind of contempt. Rich people don't just consider you beneath them in a service role but as a human. Even dogs are a little grateful when you pick up their shit.

The store paid us less than the local supermarket. I worked a tough job serving awful people for terrible money.

I missed my friend's wedding and a family Christmas because my job wouldn't give me the time off. I couldn't afford nights out or vacations with my boyfriend. Everything I had went on rent, food and my three-hour both-ways commute on perpetually filthy, overcrowded and late trains.

The rent and food were expenses I could tolerate, but the commute was eating me alive. My boyfriend was the one good thing in my life, but I wasn't the only good thing in his. He walked away, leaving me with filth and crowds.

I stopped showing up to work. If I did, it would be hours late. This went on for a couple of months. One day I told myself you have to go to work, but if it makes you feel better, don't take any shit.

the checkout line snaked around the back of the store. a customer wearing a Von Dutch hoodie came in looking for a fight. He took one look at the line, decided it was an affront to justice, and threw a tantrum that involved pushing over a display.

"Sir, you can't do that," I shouted from my spot at the cash.

The guy in the Von Dutch hoodie yelled back, "You can't tell me what to do, you're a woman."

I climbed over the counter and walked over to him. "And you're sexist," I said. I didn't put my hands on my hips and told him, "I'm serious, you need to get the fuck out of my store."

"No, I don't."

I got in his face. "Let me be clear, you cannot come into this store looking for trouble. I'm a human being and I don't deserve it."

He seemed surprised that he was going to get kicked out so he decided the rational thing to do was to fight me. He didn't listen to any of my repeated orders to back off. He pushed me to the ground.

I tried to get up. He pulled a rubber knife on me. I yanked the rubber knife out of his hand and chucked it into the crowd. It hit my manager on the head. He immediately shrank down after that.

I'd never gotten so mad at a stranger before, let alone a customer.

The supervisor pulled me away and dragged me into the manager's office. a phone call later, the Head Office fired me.

The job cost me my love, and the breakup cost me my job. This strained my friendship with my landlord, who evicted me later that week. Not because he isn't receiving rent, I'm making payments, but because he's tired of me being in the house all the time.

I applied for public housing but was refused. Nobody will rent to the unemployed, and nobody will hire the homeless.

I have since been couch surfing with some friends. I keep wondering where that rude customer is now, and if he noticed I'm gone. Sometimes I wonder if he regrets his actions. I hope he learned not to be rude to strangers because you have no idea what they're going through, and it may ricochet throughout their whole life.

Things changed in April. After countless applications and a stream of rejections, I finally got a job offer for a docent for an art gallery. They said they wanted to discuss my skills over coffee.

On the day of the interview, I went to the address provided in the email. It didn't lead to an art gallery. It led to somebody's apartment.

This woman with dreadlocks and three piercings on one eyebrow answered the door. The apartment smelled like a mix of dog and some herbs. She soon told me she had three dogs and liked yoga, meditation, and massage, which explained it all.

That should have been my first red flag. But no, it got worse.

We drank coffee while talking, and it tasted bad. It tasted like I was drinking manure-flavoured gasoline.

Then the woman massaged my hands. It caught me by surprise. "Don't worry," she said, "this will help you relax."

I stared out into the front courtyard the entire time. The feeling that everything was changing for the worse echoed in my mind.

I feel like this when I'm tired and hormonal, but now the feeling is so much stronger than that. this feels like this one's for real. Something terrible is about to happen. Something big, something that could kill me.

And I started to feel dizzy. My vision got blurry. I had trouble standing up.

The woman notices the discomfort on my face. "You don't seem well," she said with a calm demeanour, "Is everything okay?"

"I think I just need to wash my hands," I said as I struggled to find my footing, "Maybe I had an allergic reaction to the massage oil?"

She reassured me with a smile but should have been comforting but just felt suspicious. "No need to worry, sometimes people feel a bit dizzy after a hand massage," she said gesturing to her bedroom, "If you need to rest, my bed is right there. Take your time."

"OK", I nodded as I continued to the bathroom. I couldn't even see my own reflection, let alone text or call someone on my phone. I thought about the horrible coffee and the massage. There was no way that this was an interview for a docent job at an art museum.

I passed out on the bathroom floor. The last thing I heard was the woman saying, "I think we got her."

I woke up in a backyard somewhere. The lawn chairs just look sad rather than inviting. The yard backed into a cemetery

I woke up face-first on a playground slide. The bottom of the slide had a torn plastic bag, a plate of nine chunks of rotten meat with pennies in it, and a blood-red candle with a blue flame.

The wind picked up. The candle went out. I slid down the slide and I knocked the bag and the rotten meat onto the ground with my forehead.

As I looked up, I heard footsteps moving towards me. Then somebody shouted, "Die!"

I recognized the voice: it was the guy who barged into the art store itching to pick a fight with the cashier. I don't think he learned his lesson.

I stood up and ran away from the slide. I started running towards the road. I thought I got away but I heard, "I'm waiting"

I knew what that meant. They were waiting for me to get too tired to keep running, to stop and pee. I had to keep moving at any cost.

I booked it towards the woods. I could still hear them. "Come back here," they shouted.

I didn't. I kept moving until I tripped on a root and tumbled down a hill. everything went black after that.

I woke up at home. I don't know how I got here, but I'm lucky I'm back. I never expected my blow-up to bite me in the ass the way it did.

@rosewritingprompts

#writing #creative writing #writers #writers on tumblr

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