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mrsjellymunson · 22 hours

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

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Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his harness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with an internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

My masterlist

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust

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grimm-writings · 3 days

Note

HI ITS BARD ANON I MISSED YOU!!! insane request but what about a situation where the party + kabru + chil’s family orchestrate a date between chil and reader? like setting them up… i think that’d be so cuteeee

for the dancing and the dreaming

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon spoilers, chilchuck’s wife remains nameless, i love chilchuck's family can you tell

…wc! 1887

…notes! BARD ANON I’M BACK FROM WAR (burnout) !!!! these two requests are similar so i decided to make ‘em a wombo combo!!! enjoy my loves!

The woman gives you a kindly smile as she waves you off, you and her ex leaving the tavern. She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms.

God, Chilchuck is more stupid than she remembered.

How could he possibly miss the affection in your eyes when he called out to you both before you left? Or how you clearly wanted to ask if you can stay with him longer? He’s just going to ignore that and consider it all platonic?

What an idiot. Do I really have to step in for him again? Just like old times, huh…?

The half-foot taps a finger against her cheek in thought. Maybe she can push you to confess? No, you’d probably wave your hands around and insist against having feelings for Chilchuck in the first place. A heavy sigh escapes her.

Looks like she has to do things the old-fashioned way.

Step 1 – Family

The quickest way to alert someone is to see who the people closest to you know. Flertom is rather in-the-know about any gossip. Usually, as a mother, the half-foot really doesn’t want to encourage such things, but for now…

“What’s trendy in dating circles nowadays?” She asks offhandedly, eyeing a bouquet Flertom bought to gift a possible suitor. “Is the man still expected to be the one to initiate everything?”

She could nearly scoff at her own words. Only reason she and Chil got together was pure happenstance. Practically a blur by now. He’d be hopeless at actually trying to start anything with you.

The younger woman hums in curiosity, before stopping to think. “Not really nowadays, no… If you have enough charisma, you can charm any man into taking you out for a drink. Why do you ask, Ma?”

Flertom squints as she watches her mother laugh and shake her head in response. “Oh, I just think your old man might need some… encouragement with a new flame is all.”

Just as she expected, Flertom was immediately on the ball with planning, rushing out to the town in order to visit her sisters and inform them of the operation. She practically commanded her old mother to see if she could look for any clues about Chilchuck’s possible beau. With a knowing smile, she remarks that she’s very happy to pay a visit to Melini.

Step 2 – Friends

“You really think something that elaborate could work?!” Marcille Donato leans forward in her chair. Her eyes shine with a certain kind of joy at the idea of playing Cupid that amuses the matured half-foot significantly.

She nods. “I don’t see anything else coming close to pushing them. Force might be the only way.”

A female tall-man, Falin if recalled correctly, squints and hums, tapping her finger on her chin as she tilts her head. Her brow furrows. “From what I know, Chilchuck seems to be more open, but… I don’t know if he has the courage to be truly vulnerable in front of someone like that.”

“No need to tell me twice,” his ex scoffs.

“Oh!” The king, of all people, seems to have an epiphany. “We could hold some sort of ball, encourage him to invite a plus one. That can work, right Kabru?”

All eyes turn to look at the advisor standing to the side, clearly enjoying the conversation but not wishing to intrude. He startles at the sudden attention, before clearing his throat behind his fist.

“It will take some time to plan, but it could work… You mentioned having three daughters, ma’am, you can take one as a plus-one, and the two will take each other.” He’s calm with his conclusion, which the half-foot woman can definitely respect.

“A banquet of all their favourite foods,” the dwarf Senshi, as food-brained as ever, sighs in daydream.

Kabru takes a step forward. “Though I have to ask,” he enquires, “is it really necessary to call upon all of the king’s advisors and himself for a Cupid scheme?”

Silly boy. He doesn’t yet realise the stakes.

If Chilchuck and you don’t say something soon, then you may stay silent forever. This idea might be the best shot they have.

Step 3 – The Preparation

“What’s even the occasion…?” Chilchuck sighs as he adjusts the sleeves of the formal outfit he’s wearing. He’s definitely unused to something so high-class. Being invited as a guest of honour certainly isn’t doing any favours either.

Not to mention, Laios was stupid enough to not even bestow upon you a guest of honour title! Chilchuck has to go through the means of inviting you as a plus one due to some ‘organisational issues’, as Kabru put it.

What a load of crap.

“I ‘unno!” Puckpatti peeks her head around the corner to look at her father. “Royals just seem to like their balls!”

“This isn’t one of your period romances…” Meijack’s voice rings from the other room too.

You sit with them, talking amongst one another. Flertom’s plus one remains a mystery to you, though she assures you that you’ll meet with her when you get there. You can only assume it’s the girls’ mother but you have no clue why she’s so giggly and secretive about it.

“On the contrary!” Flertom announces. “I think it’s exactly like a period romance. Maybe one of us will be swept into a dance so beguiling, you forget there’s a whole ballroom of people!”

You squeal in surprise when Flertom takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair. You dance together in a fit of giggles. You only barely miss Chilchuck walking out to meet with you all, a fond smile on his face.

Little do you know, he’s thinking about what it would be like if joy like this could be shared in a household with the two of you.

“Come on now, settle. Apparently there’s gonna be a carriage taking us to Melini. I couldn’t fight against the theatrics, according to Marcille…”

“Oh Papa!” Puckpatti sighs blissfully. “We truly are living like nobles now! Maybe you can… ah…”

Both you and Chilchuck spy her eyes darting towards her sisters with unsureness. How strange.

“You can find… someone nice there!”

“No, Patti.” Chilchuck shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m not gonna marry some rich dwarf.”

“You are too cruel, Papa,” Flertom points out with a pout. “No one will want you if you just keep saying no.”

As the three bicker, Meijack spares you a sympathetic glance, and she rolls her eyes. Her sisters hardly know subtlety. Finally she stands up and walks to your side.

“I’m glad you’re here with us,” she says with uncharacteristic softness; she’s similar to her father like that. “Papa has good taste.”

You go red just as much as Chilchuck. For a moment, Flertom and Puckpatti wonder if their less romance-focused sister has some secret charisma she’s been hiding up her sleeve this whole time. It seems to work though, as they chorus their agreements loudly.

“Very good taste!”

“Their formal wear matches yours fashionably well!”

“Just as pretty as Ma too!”

“If not prettier!”

The entire carriage ride to Melini was full of this type of chatter, asking questions about you and Chilchuck’s time together the whole way. A few times you had to clarify that you are only as close as the rest of your old party were close, but were only met with a few smug “mhms” and “sures”.

Chilchuck can only roll his eyes when he gets the chance to comment on it privately with you. “I have no idea what’s up with them.”

“Oh, cheer up!” You laugh softly. “I’m flattered that they like me.”

Chilchuck can’t help but hear your laugh and chuckle along – music to his ears. “...Yeah, I’m glad they like you too.”

“Come on! Ma is here to greet you two!” Flertom’s voice calls out.

The mastermind has been watching you and Chilchuck the whole time you approach. Her expression remains neutral, with the smallest sliver of a smile. Seems like the proximity has been lending itself quite well.

“Well, aren’t you two a pair,” she greets you both. “Ready to take the ball by storm.”

“Your jokes haven’t gotten any better,” Chilchuck replies.

“And you’re still wearing the same shabby suit from sixteen years ago.”

Chilchuck flushes red once again and you can’t help but laugh, patting his shoulder sympathetically as he hooks his arm through yours.

The watching half-foot knowingly grins. Yes, you two are definitely going to take it up a level after tonight.

Step 4 – Profit!

The ball came and went. It goes as typical as the dark-haired half-foot expects. What really is supposed to be a high-class noble event is a mask for foodies, romantics, and those looking for a fun time.

Senshi’s food was as wonderful as promised, and even if this was all done in the name of romance, Flertom and Puckpatti had to be held down from trying to approach the dwarf with lowered eyelids and twirled hair. Chilchuck doesn’t need more heart palpitations than he already did.

She did her best to encourage Chilchuck to drink. She knows better than anyone that his tongue only loosened when he got enough alcohol in him. It hurts just a little, knowing that this is one of the only ways Chilchuck can be open with someone romantically.

The temptation did cross her to ask how Chilchuck views her now, but she stood against it. It’s not the night for that.

By the time the party drew to a close, people were exhausted, drunk, in a food coma, or all of the above. The King had to be dragged over to his quarters, and Marcille had since passed out on Falin’s shoulder, who’s bidding farewell to guests.

The dark-haired half-foot swirls the last of her wine in a glass as she stands outside, making small-talk with the tall-man. It’s not until you stumble out with Chilchuck clinging to the fabric on your hip that she looks up.

“Do you—”

“No need for help!” You reassure her with a grin. “He always seems to get clingy with me when drunk, so I’m kinda used to it at this point!”

Your laughter meets a knowing smile, not knowing exactly what she’s so smug about. “Yes, he seems to really like you.”

“I sure hope he does, considering he’s accepted my request to go on a date with him.”

Falin perks up enough to wake up the elf on her shoulder. “A date?”

The half-foot across from you is stunned into silence. It actually worked. The atmosphere and passion of it all actually egged you both on!

“Congratulations.” You’ve seen more emotion from the dark-haired woman than ever before. Her smile relaxed but her eyes shining, the lines underneath crinkling with happiness. “Treat him well, okay?”

“Of course,” you reply, and you lean forward a little. “Thank you for your help. Kabru couldn’t help but gossip to me.”

You wink and lean up again. Chilchuck at your side whines for your attention and you laugh, walking towards a carriage.

Safe travels were promised, and the dark-haired half-foot turns to the two blonde women.

The elf blinks slowly, red-faced from drink.

“Did we win…?”

The two other women laugh. Stories must be exchanged the next time you all meet – especially on your end of things.

#✮ grimm's fics!#oh man this will be hell to tag #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines #meijack chils #puckpatti chils #flertom chils #chilchuck's wife #yeah that'll do

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adora-but-ginger · 2 days

Text

Femininomenon

pairing: emily prentiss x gender neutral reader

synopsis: two undercover agents with old flames still burning, reunited once again

warnings: undercover talk, swearing, references to sex so mdni, french words, alcoholic settings (though none is consumed)

main masterlist

the rise and fall of a midwestern princess masterlist

word count: ~2.3k

a/n: OH MAN am i excited for this series!! this is my first time writing for emily, and i am really proud of this one! the order of this series won't necessairly follow the album order, but the beginning to both will be femininomenon. i would love to hear your thoughts, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! also side note i saw chappell live and it changed something in me.

do not steal or repost my work. reblogs, however, are greatly appreciated!

not proofread whoopsie daises

credit to gif owner!

"Dude, can you play a song with a fucking beat?"

The music was loud, obnoxious, and not even good. Your mind was still racked with the events of the past 72 hours, and you never went to places like this before. A "welcome back/so long" party they said. You did not agree to this, but out of leaving on civil terms, you begrudgingly said you'd attend. It was for you after all.

That being said, the DJ they hired was not that good. You were irritated, it was hot and stuffy here, and you just wanted some sleep. If they were going to play music here, at least make it good.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. What do you want on the queue?"

You couldn't even think of a song name. You had been so out of touch with the present world these past years that you were completely out of the loop on the world's current music taste. Someone next to you recommended one before patting you on the shoulder, and that movement almost made you snap.

This was stupid. Stupid, useless, and a waste of time and money.

The "you're alive and back!" banner was starting to fall, and your irritation was becoming overwhelming. Since when did they even do this sort of thing? You took a deep breath. You were gone for eight years, longer than most stings. Plus, you were switching departments soon anyway, and you supposed that this was the first celebration the team had had in a while. Let them have it, part of you conceded. Fifteen more minutes, then you could leave, you convinced yourself. Fifteen minutes and then--

"Well if it isn't the guest of honor."

You knew that voice. How did you know that voice?

You were still trying to remember how your friends and colleagues looked and talked--a feat harder than you'd like to admit. Whatever song the person had requested was thrumming through the air now, the beat running through you.

You could hear your name being hummed, and you did a 180 to face them.

Emily Prentiss.

How could you have forgotten that voice? You eyed your drink, suddenly wishing it was much stronger than the sprite you currently carried.

"You look a whole lot different since I saw you last." She glanced over you, noticing the weathered changes that came with eight years undercover.

"I guess I'm still trying to figure out who I am again." An ironic chuckle accompanied your words. "Hey, Emily." You slightly raised your cup of soda in greeting, and she returned the same action. "A little birdie told me you switched from undercover?"

Oh man, this was not good. Thank god you knew how to regulate your expressions because your heart was practically escaping your chest. The last time you two had seen each other, you did much more than talk. It was truly a shame that you were called in immediately that next morning, that you knew she'd wake up to the sheets still warm (she was always a light sleeper), that you had a new case being brought to the table and you wouldn't know how long you'd be gone for. A week? A month? Half a year? A whole one?

You definitely did not expect it to be eight years.

What was she doing now? Was she with someone? Was she married? Did she have kids? Did she--"You're doing that thing again, you know."

Your eyes snapped to hers. "What thing?"

The song changed, and you really did not want to be attending this party right now. Even if Emily was here. "The thing where you ruminate into your own world?" She clocked the look in your eyes and nodded to the front doors.

Maybe it was a little rude to leave the main event without saying goodbye, but you did not want to be there any longer, and you getting really overwhelmed. You nodded in agreement and she started to walk toward the refreshing outside air.

The chill greeted you as you approached the nearby picnic table, Emily sitting down across from you.

An awkward silence infiltrated the air.

"So, uh, long time no see?"

She shot you a look, eyebrows raised in a don't give me that manner.

"How are you doing with the assimilation? Any hiccups?"

Eight years--two-thousand nine hundred and twenty-six days. You'd been back for only three, and you couldn't remember how to live a normal life. You weren't assimilating at all.

"Yeah, it's been pretty good."

You could see pity in her eyes. "I don't know how you got this job. You can't lie for shit."

Speaking to her was making old, long-buried feelings crawl their way through the dirt and past the grave. A tension was forming, though not one of bad, more so the type comparable to that of smelling the rain before a storm.

"I just can't lie to you." You crossed your hands on the picnic table. "Never really could, I guess." You mumbled the second part, taking note of the party's noises and the crickets chirping behind you.

She let you talk, patiently drinking up the mere presence of you. She had practically sprinted from the jet upon hearing of your return, memories of you two flooding the gates she had long since locked away.

You were gone for nearly a decade and your social skills were currently in the toilet. It had to mean something that Emily came tonight, right? Not a lot of people knew of you, much less the importance of your return, and as far as you knew word didn't leave the office of this party.

Yet here she was, dressed in her day clothes, nursing a water as she stared at you as if you were not real.

You wanted to tell her everything, what you did, where you went, who you had dealt with the past almost decade, the way her lips still caressed your mind, how the ghost of a possible future kept you was the lamp that led you through the darkness.

You had so much to say, yet you could only get two words out.

"I'm sorry."

That caught her a little off guard. "What are you sorry for?"

You let the evening breeze wrap around you for a moment before speaking. "For leaving without saying goodbye. For finally making a move just to go off the grid. It was long ago, I know, but I felt--feel so horrible that I left you there that morning without even a quick see you tonight letter by your coffee."

She didn't respond, which made that feeling in your gut go even deeper. The evening breeze ran in between you, speaking words you could only wish to say.

It wasn't until her cup was almost empty that she responded.

"Don't sweat it too much. I got called into a case not too long after, was stuck in that for a while too. Seriously, it happened, and there's no bad blood between the two of us."

People were starting to leave the party in the distance, and a wave of relief washed over you. Now you could leave, go back to the sanctioned hotel room you were assigned to until your belongings were recovered and you could find a place to live. It was a shitty situation, sure, but it was a place to lay your head for right now.

"Well, it's getting late, and I'm really tired," a yawn overcame you, "I better get going. I start the new job in a few days, so I need to catch up on as much sleep as I can after the past week." You reached over the table and lightly squeezed her hand. "It was really nice to see you, Emily. Seriously."

She returned the gesture, her hand fitting as nicely in your own now as it did back then. "Of course. You didn't think I'd miss welcoming you back, did you?"

Your hands didn't separate, instead, she smiled as you shot a glance towards them. "Keep in touch, will you? It'd be really nice to reconnect."

A small smile grew on your face and you swiped your thumb over her knuckles. "I will, don't you worry. I don't have my own phone yet, but if you want to give me your number I'll put it in the moment I get one."

You knew she would tease you the second the offer left your lips. "You want my number, huh? Think I'm cute or something?"

A laugh emitted from you, god you forgot how much you missed her. The anxious side of you made you question whether you should be flirty at all with her-- she probably already had a significant other, and there was a slim shot that even if she didn't, you could relight the kindling that was your--whatever it was you two had going on.

Couldn't hurt to test the waters though.

"I think you're alluring, gorgeous, and undeniably charming." You lowered your tone to a whisper as you spoke, leaning over the table. "Not just cute."

She shot a glance at your lips that did not go unnoticed, and you licked them in response.

"Oh, dearest, you're going to make me blush if you keep on talking like that."

"You? blush? These years really have changed you Em." You had to make sure she was single before you continued any further. "Are you seeing anyone these days?"

Hands still interlocked, she gave another squeeze. "You've had my heart since we walked in together as fresh meat ten years ago. You've plagued my every dream for thousands of days--you are the only one my eyes have landed on and will ever."

Slightly shocked at her confession, your mouth dropped partially agape. "Still as bold as ever-which is a good thing-I see. Since when did you become a romantic?" You nodded toward the car you took to get here, and she nodded in understanding.

"Since I found out you were one: still alive, and two: not undercover anymore." You took a minute to observe her as you stood. Black shirt with a flat neckline, dress pants, and hair slightly curled outwards at the end. Still breathtaking as ever. Age had found her face, as it did you, and it made her even more stunning.

"Want to come to my place? I have an extra room if you want." She thought for a second. "Oh, I do have one man in my life." Shock rushed through you, mixed with a tinge of jealousy, and she laughed at your expression. Laughed. A sound that reminded you of a perfect melody. "His name is Sergio, and he's the sneakiest cat you'll ever meet. I love him to dear pieces."

You were speechless, resulting in even more laughter from the raven-haired woman at your side. "You're something else, you know that?"

"I'm sure he'll love you."

She gave you her address ad you got into your vehicle. With a wink and a slap on the door, she was off to her own.

You were going to fucking lose it.

It was five years into this mission, and at this point, you didn't know if it would ever end. The layer of domesticity that formed between you and him was so enforced that you had to remind yourself every night that this was your job, and that once you were able to get his company destroyed, things would smooth out.

And you would be able to quit this line of work.

You loved it, you truly did, at first. You were good at what you did, and it made you the best candidate for this operation. That being said, you did not expect to still be living this case. For one, you didn't date men (or have ever been attracted to them.) Yet here you were, legally married to the guy running the upper half of France. It irked you because he had a really sweet sister who under different circumstances you would've loved to be friends with.

There wasn't much left to do today, and the sun was starting to set. You had sent the cleaning person home early; you always did. They liked you because you actually got to know each them, and you still had them paid for the hour or two they missed. This was one of the only chances you had to take a deep breath and do a little reset, remembering why you were here and what you were doing.

You were an outstanding undercover agent. You were coming back to for Emily.

You had repeated that mantra for the past five years, the sentence serving as a tether when things got rough.

Stupid fresh linens that were never used twice. Stupid giant house with its giant gate and giant halls. Stupid--

"Où es-tu, mon amour?" Where are you, my love?

There he was, and there duty called.

"Je serai là!" I'll be right there!

Once her name had infiltrated your mind, she enveloped it. Does Emily still even remember you? Is she still alive? Does she still care?

You were doing this for her. And if that meant you had to wait a few more years, then so be it. She was your solace, your grounding rock.

"Mon amour?" my love?

"En chemin!" on my way!

Until you were able to hold her in your arms again, you could only hope that things worked out.

Emily rubbed a soothing hand over your back as you softly fell asleep, body entangled with hers. She knew within a second that there was no chance you'd be sleeping in separate beds. Plus, you needed a sense of comfort, a familiar face, and that's what she was. She never had anyone to pick her back up after Doyle, so she would be that person for you.

It was odd, having you back. It was going to take a while to get everything situated and in a groove, but she was willing to walk that path with you.

She always thought it was the same old story with her previous relationships, but then you came along.

And god damn, did she love you.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #series #the rise and fall of a midwest princess series #criminal minds fanfiction

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smallnico · 2 days

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i draw esper in all sorts of outfits with all sorts of hairstyles, so i decided to make a little roadmap of their fashion progress through the game, with some bonus epilogue and prologue looks. they're easily one of my most dress-uppable ocs.

the fact that they wear nothing but black and other dark colours is a practicality more than anything, clearly. their ability to wear white for any period of time without ruining it is one of the best things they got out of rejecting bhaal. the one thing that has never changed is their need to have tits out at all possible times.

this is something i've always wanted to do for a character but haven't had the energy or motivation to do, just goes to show how deep into the bg3 hyperfixation and obsession with my own durge i am. the piece that put me over the fence and inspired me to do this was @tcustodisart's piece for connecticut tav? and i'm glad i did it because this was fun :>

#smallnico art #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 durge #the dark urge #bg3 oc #bg3 fanart #esper #character reference #smallnioc #blood cw

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melodic-haze · 17 hours

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Hmm i just had a thought about the recent fic w Arlecchino

What if she had a muzzle on w bunny suit🧐

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Breeding, size kink, reader has a cock/strap referred to as such

☆ — NOTES: I'm ngl it's been several Arle fics now that idk which one you were on ab but it's okay gwenchana. Anyway you lot really want to breed her huh (same though)

Good luck convincing Arlecchino to wear a bunny suit actually HAHAHA

She'd do anything for you, really she will!!!! She's so dedicated to you—worshipping you in the same way a diety was meant to be worshipped—that it's actually scary for the both of you, how much of a hold you have on her. But she has some reservations about such a risqué bit of clothing 💀

Not like you blame her though, considering how it wasn't usually her style. Lucky for you, however, YOU get special treatment :3 all it takes is one look at the outfit, one look at her and some time and voila!!! She'll concede—hell, she might even surprise you :3

"You're.. you're sure, right? I know you were kinda against it at first—I feel bad if I ended up forcing you into something you-- mm."

A finger was on your lips, the gesture's message quite clear as your beloved spoke amidst your commanded silence, "I'm sure, yes. I admit I am.. apprehensive, but your longing gaze is more than enough to convince me to, ah.. experiment."

"Really..?"

"Yes. You do not take me for my word?"

"No, I do! It's just..." You huffed out a sigh as you gently took the hand on your lip and took it in your own, "I just don't want you to feel as if you were obligated to entertain my every whim."

You see her eyes soften at your concern and she squeezes your hand as a form of reassurance from your often-so-stoic lover, "You should know better than to believe I would ever compromise my own comfort for something like this."

"And besides," she continues, "surprisingly, I've come to enjoy being.. well, your prey of sorts. Perhaps the outfit may elevate the interest to another level, hm?"

You couldn't help but stare at her, boldness practically radiating off of your lover despite the position you both know she truly holds within the privacy of your bedroom walls. Such boldness prompted an imagined flash of images in your mind—blackened hands all tied up, drool escaping her lips within confining barriers, tears escaping as sinful noises of wet skin-to-skin impact echo along with her moans—and you feel something akin to a hot flash within your core.

Ever so observant, her eyes go half-lidded as she looks up at you, her grin a touch sharper than before, "I see that I have awakened your imagination."

"Maybe."

"You need not imagine it, my beloved." Her voice reduces itself to something of a low purr, "All you need to do is command me, and I will do whatever you wish."

"That's a dangerous promise to make."

"Coming from a dangerous woman such as I, I dare say it balances the scales."

I love dialogue lol anyway tell her to do so and she will do it ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ and next thing you know you're facing a woman much shorter than you've always known her to be, clad in such a revealing outfit and a muzzle to prevent her from biting so much. She had 'protested' against the latter at first, but you both know from the way that she so very easily accepted such a thing that she was all for the extra torture, not being able to make a mark on you (she forgets that her nails'll probably do the job for her anyway LMAO)

When she's laid out 'helplessly' on the bed as you tower over her, when you put your hand on the flat of her stomach and the both of you see the clear size difference, when you look at her and see so much anticipation and carnal lust practically glazing her eyes? Oh god the both of you KNOW you're not going out this room for a WHILE

She is COMPLETELY at your mercy—you can toy with her all you want, alternating between overstimulation and edging her with whatever is at your disposal until she can't take it anymore so she has to actually beg you to fuck her dumb and reduce all trains of thought into mush. She considers begging as below her, and yet she can't help but let out these reluctant pleas that only seem to gain a more.......willing quality with them in due time. Just make sure to torture her until her composure snaps, giving her her own sort of medicine and having her experience her very own mindbreak through overwhelming pleasure

To see this woman, who is so utterly feared to the point where crowds would part for her in fear that she would plunge her blackened hands into their chest and staining them red, cling to you and hump your cock like a bitch in heat is such a harrowing contrast.......but there is certainly that feeling of something more

Perhaps it's the fact that there was the urge to pin her down into a mating press and stuff her silly until she gets kids on her own ☺️ seeing her take all these children in at the Hearth and not having any herself.....why, for some reason you found yourself feeling like you just had to give her some children of her own. She seems to adore them, so whyever not ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

Even as dazed-out as she is, she can see something change inside you as your objective goes from fucking her silly to something a lot more feral. Doesn't necessarily help that, yk, you have her in a bunny suit. And yk how bunnies just love to breed

As much as Arlecchino had tried to tell you to slow down for a brief moment, it's as if all noise has been blocked out from your senses, save for the sounds your lover makes and the sinfully wet noises that are produced as you piston into her again and again and again and again.

You roughly pushed her down into the matress, now damp and messy from a mixture of your bodily fluids, as you made sure to bottom out inside her as quickly as you drew back—the harsh assault on her hole had hit spots within her she didn't even realise you could hit, not to mention the force of your movements being more than enough to easily stretch her out and mold her insides to fit you and only you.

It was obvious that there was no way any mercy was going to be given to her. The Harbinger could only lay there and take everything you give her like some kind of fleshlight, the 'fight' within her long gone (if she even had some left in her to begin with).

God I need to separate these bc I can't just choose one thank yew bc both are very very very VERY good

If you had a dick:

You were so utterly determined to fill her and making sure your seed takes by the end of your session. If it meant basting her insides with white-hot cum and having it all stuffed inside her to the point where it has no where to go but out by force, then you'll cum inside her over and over again until you can't anymore.

And when your hand goes to press down on her abdomen, you can see the mixture of cum inside her practically spray out at the edges. She can't take it anymore, even she says so, and yet you can't help but wonder just why is her pussy still milking you as if her life depended on it?

Because she's greedy.

Because right now, no longer was she Arlecchino—she was your very own rabbit, hungry for your potent seed.

If you're using a strap:

You know of your limitations—without anything extra such as magical means, you cannot actually have her bare your children. But whyever would you let that stop you, especially when you had benefits that more than makes up for your lack of organic appendages?

If you had the real thing then you could stuff her silly until it takes (and even beyond that), but one can easily make up for it in other qualities such as size and shape.

And really, whatever's stopping you from filling her to the brim with artificial cum instead?

The world is your oyster, and Peruere was nothing but your very own porcelain fuckdoll at this point.

I need to breed her every which way idc if I don't have a dick, if there's a will there's a way

When she realises what you're trying to do, she can't help that sudden jolt that completely overtakes her—her hips practically shoot from the bed, pushing your cock in even deeper, before you push her back down while she lets out a silent scream. By GOD the fact you want to breed her, fill her, make sure a child of YOURS growing inside her, making a mark beyond just her skin.........oh it gets her going in ways she never would've fathomed before

By the end of your VERY long and productive session, it's VERY clear you've both fucked like rabbits from the mess all over the place and the liquid practically gushing from her abused hole. After everything, you finally take off her muzzle, only for you to lead her drool-coated mouth all the way down to the base of your cock to clean it up. She doesn't even protest either, easily taking it like a good girl and making sure that she does a good job in cleaning you up and finishing you off. All you need to do is plug her up properly, feeling all the cum stuffed inside her through the small pauch of her abdomen, where her womb is 🫶

"..I had known this was a possible outcome, and yet I cannot help but be surprised by your control, or lack thereof."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you rolled on your side, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! You just looked so irresistible and before I knew it I just--"

"Don't take my words as a form of reprimand, darling." You feel her hands take your own from your face, her lips finally kissing them—you—after a long time of having it muzzled, "I enjoyed it. You are already aware of my.. likes and dislikes, especially when it comes to the rougher parts of the activity. I gave you control, and you willingly seized it."

"I guess..."

"And besides," she muses with a small smile on her face, "I am.. not necessarily opposed to the thought of it."

"Of what?"

"Getting bred."

A warm flush spreads through your cheeks as you gave her a light swat, "You! You are so shameless! What happened to being polite and cryptic?!"

"Do we really need such pleasantries by this point? Seeing that you were rather determined to take me all for yourself, after all..."

"Oh my god."

A deep laugh rumbles within her, the sound so rare and precious that you'd want to keep it all to yourself, and you can't help but laugh along with her as you bask in the afterglow. When your laughter settles down, the two of you end up with your legs tangled up together as you lay there in companionable silence.

Though eventually she decides to break it, "Shall I go and run us a bath?"

"You can stand after all that? Geez, seems like I did a bad job," you joked.

Arlecchino huffed out lightly with a smile, "No, you've rendered me utterly near-useless—a feeling that I don't usually enjoy. Yet the fact that I don't seem to mind it all that much should show that you are special to me."

You feel that heat in your cheeks again at the proclamation, "Archons, and when I aim to have you all sappy like that in public you don't even dare move a muscle."

"Time and place, dear. Time and place. Now," she questions again, "shall I run us a bath? We can take care of the mess later."

You nodded, "Mm, if you don't mind then. But can we take it together?"

You see her eyes crinkle, the glow that the red crosses within them softening like a tender flame, "Of course. I shall be back in a few moments, then."

She gets up, and you pride yourself for being the reason why your lover temporarily goes off balance from a sudden tremor in her legs before collecting yourself.. and you can't help but stare at the remaining cum staining the sides of the plug and the apex of her thighs as she walks off.

She doesn't take the plug off when you go and take the bath together. Wonder why 😋

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#i love starting shit ☺️ sub arlecchino believers RISE UP (me and my nonexistent dick both rose up)#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #sub arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women x reader #genshin women imagines #genshin women smut #sub genshin women

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mattatouilletkachuk · 2 days

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John Marino prompt option #1 fits him so well to me

An Anxious Heart and Steady Arms || John Marino

Prompt: 1. B wrapping their arms around A’s waist and pulling them close, whispering in A's ear: "Stay close to me."

WC: 1k+

a/n: I’m trying to finish all of the requests I have before posting my new prompt list. Also sorry to whoever requested this because this took so long.

Summary: This was your first event you were attending since you and John had made things official. It sounded exciting when he first brought it up but actually attending felt like a whole other beast.

The Sweep the Deck Gala was your first event since you and John made things official. When he first asked you to attend the event with him and the days leading up to it, you weren’t nervous. Why should you be? You knew most of his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. It was an odd sort of benefit that came with nearly a year of you and John dancing around your feelings and not facing any commitment issues head-on.

For a year you and John talked nearly every day, went on dates when he wasn’t practicing or playing, and slept together and at each other’s apartments. It wasn’t until two months ago, when he came back from a roadie that the two of you finally sat down and made things official.

Since then, everything has been going well. Your relationship hadn’t changed much, if at all. The only thing new was him asking you to come with him to events the Devils held. Not only were you not nervous but you were also excited. You had never attended an event like this before and were curious to see everything in person.

When the two of you first arrived the place wasn’t packed yet. You had time to take in all of the decorations and events that were set up. You looked at the tables that held signed memorabilia and toward the empty area where the curling would be taking place a little bit later. When you saw more of John’s teammates at their partners and kids arrive you smiled and waved at them.

However, that entire time John was by your side. It was hard to let your mind wander when your boyfriend was brushing his arm against yours or holding his hand against the small of your back. It wasn’t until Nicole had come up to you that John was finally pulled away. You watched from the corner of your eye as he slowly left your field of vision with Nate.

It was then that you started to feel a little ball of anxiety spark up in your belly. You couldn’t help but wonder if Nicole had picked up on it because she stayed and talked with you for at least an hour. You enjoyed her company and felt lonelier when she eventually walked off with Jesper. You understood, though, that you couldn’t monopolize her time and that she had a boyfriend and other friends that she wanted to talk to.

You were torn between staying where you were and wandering around. You couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching you. You knew it was your anxiety that made you feel like that. Everyone was too wrapped up in socializing and having fun. That didn’t stop you from critiquing every little movement you made. So you decided to walk around, thinking it was better to seem like you were doing something rather than standing in the same place for too long.

You were looking at the tables filled with memorabilia when someone came over the loudspeaker to announce that the curling event would be taking place. People were instructed to find a place to stand around the area to watch as their favorite players would soon be partaking in the game.

That was when you felt arms wrap around you from behind. You startled and snapped your head back to see who was touching you but before you saw him you felt his deep chuckle as he pulled you against his chest. John. John had finally found his way back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned. His voice was low, only meant for your ears only.

“Who says anything is wrong?” You respond quickly, your shoulders tense at the thought that you were so easy to read. If John could see how out of place you felt and probably looked, that meant other people probably thought so too.

He leaned down to kiss your sweater-covered shoulder before replying, “I know you too well. I saw you from across the room and could see how nervous you looked.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lied and crossed your arms. Refusing to melt into your boyfriend's arms.

“Baby, it’s okay. This is your first hockey event that isn’t a game. It’s loud and there are a lot of people.” John said, his voice still calm despite the edge in your own. “I was nervous for my first Gala. Hell, I was nervous for every event I had to attend my rookie year.”

You were quiet as you took in what he said. The new information made your shoulders relax and you uncross your arms.

“How did you get over the nerves? Because even though I know I’m not someone everyone is looking at I can’t help but feel like every move I make is being watched.

“You find your people,” he said as if it was the most simple thing in the world. His arms tightened around your waist and brought you impossibly closer to him. Once again he leaned down and this time his mouth was by your ear as he whispered, “Just stay close to me and you’ll be fine.”

It felt like his words had control over you because as he said them you finally let yourself melt into his arms. The two of you stayed like that for a while, watching his teammates try their hand at curling.

When people came up to John, whether it was journalists, teammates, or people from the foundation, he never let go of you and even introduced you to the people you hadn’t met and didn’t know. Everyone was smiling and sincere and by the time John had to leave you and go on stage with the rest of his team, you didn’t feel so out of place anymore. Some of the other player’s girlfriends and wives had found you and stood with you as the team talked on stage.

By the end of the night, as you were leaving, with a Devil’s red scarf wrapped around you and your hand in John’s, you realized that despite the small speed bump you had earlier, you actually enjoyed the night and maybe, you thought, you might actually have found the place you were meant to be.

#John Marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #nhl imagines #john marino fics #my writing

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strangestcase · 20 hours

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i think the proship community is dangerous because it encourages the presence and participation of minors in sexually charged contexts (which often leads to them being taken advantage of. who would have guessed the adults defending loli would be a danger to kids)

No exactly, exactly, like… the thing w proship spaces is that they do have good points about media literacy in a vacuum, I think everyone should be against censorship and happily writing about whatever they want. The thing is that pedos will ALWAYS insert their abusive preferences into any political ideology (look up post-Nazi Germany) if they can get away with it— they’ve done it to the left, to the right, to progressives, to conservatives, they always work backwards.

I can’t stress this enough: anything, any ideology, any set of beliefs, can be a twisted into justification to interact inappropriately with kids/teens; anything can be a good reason to coerce a child into sex in an abuser’s eyes. And, as it stands, the statement “there’s nothing wrong with having taboo sexual interests”, true as it is , is FERTILE SOIL for pedo and pedo enablers to take root in. What should drive morality re:children and sex isn’t disgust, isn’t politics, isn’t aesthetics— it’s the fact that children can’t consent to sex because they simply aren’t mature enough to fully understand what it is.

The thing is . Children are intelligent and deserving of autonomy and freedom; taking advantage of their inexperience for sexual purposes is the opposite of giving children autonomy and freedom, but it’s very easy to spin it into a narrative of sexual freedom and children’s rights to have sex with adults (as if that ever happened magically On Its Own, lmao).

I say it very often that “ship discourse” is an incredibly bad way to discuss these sorts of things. Media literacy, censorship, and internet moderation are all very nuanced topics that you can’t divide into little sports-like teams. This sentiment I’ve seen reflected in a lot of other Tumblr users. I’m not anti or pro I’m an adult with a job etc etc . But that said I am immediately distrustful of proship spaces even if I agree with some of their points, much more than I am of anti spaces when I think they also make good points, and the reason is that proship spaces, as Anon says, have taken sexual liberation the wrong way and tend to either not care or be all for children interacting with adults in questionable contexts re:sex. Those spaces make it very easy to groom kids under the guise of kink/queer/sex positivity (which IMO is frankly insulting as a sex positive kinky queer). The end result is a community that is against pedophilia in theory but fails to protect children in practice.

The other reason I favor “antis” over “proships” is because proshippers are (in my experience) annoying as fuck and weirdly high and mighty about liking incest, as if it was subversive. A quick glance at the family tree of Greek mythology characters says otherwise.

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taelqn · 2 days

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CROSS GUILD WITH A CHILD READER

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + I MOSTLY TALK ABOUT BUGGY OOPS

NOTES: A clown, a swordsman, and a sandman. My favorite trio. Everything written here is so random, so please buckle up. 🫨

You've got Crocodile and Mihawk, both big shots in their own right, and they've got a ton of stuff going on, right? They're busy dealing with all sorts of important things, and suddenly, you come into the picture needing someone to look after you. Now, it's not that they don't care about you or anything, but they're not exactly equipped to handle a kid at the moment. So, what do they do? They look around and think, "Hey, who can we pawn this kid off to?" And guess who they settle on? Buggy. They're both kind of on the same page about Buggy being, well, pretty useless most of the time. But hey, he can at least handle babysitting duty, right? It's like the least he can do to make himself a bit more tolerable to Mihawk and Crocodile. And eventually, you end up in Buggy's care, and who knows, maybe he surprises everyone by not completely messing it up. It's like a little test for him to see if he can step up and actually contribute something meaningful to the Cross Guild, while also maybe earning a bit of respect from the big bosses themselves—Crocodile and Mihawk. Plus, it might even help smooth things over between them all, make things a bit less tense in the Cross Guild. It's kind of like Buggy's chance to step up and show he's not totally useless after all.

Spoiler alert: Buggy is, in fact, useless, even when it comes to babysitting.

While under Buggy’s care, think of that one audio that goes like, “You want a beer?” “He’s four!” “I DONT KNOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HIM?!” Buggy is the one offering you a beer, and it’s probably Alvida scolding him for offering you a beer. He’s trying, okay—and it’s the thought that counts. When Mihawk and Crocodile first told him he'd be looking after you, Buggy's gut reaction was to grumble and complain. But then he saw the looks they gave him—those death stares that could silence any king—and he quickly shut his mouth. Just like that, he accepted his new role with a resigned, "Okay, I am now a babysitter." Sure, he's skeptical about the whole thing. I mean, Buggy and babysitting? But he knows better than to argue. So here he is, awkwardly navigating this whole childcare thing, making blunders but genuinely trying his best. It's a weird situation for everyone.

I imagine that you have been with the Cross Guild for some time already, so this likely isn’t Buggy’s first time taking care of you. Yet every time feels like the first time for him. He's just not a natural with kids. It's like he's constantly second-guessing himself, unsure of what to do or how to act. But you know what really lights a fire under him? Compliments. Especially when they're about how cool he is. Seriously, mention anything about his awesomeness, and suddenly, he's walking on air. You can practically see the confidence oozing out of him. "Oh, you think I'm cool?" he'll say, grinning from ear to ear, soaking up every bit of praise you throw his way. And if you really want to see him shine, just keep the compliments coming. Tell him how flashy and impressive he is, and watch as he practically transforms before your eyes. Suddenly, he's not just awkwardly babysitting; he's putting on a show, trying to impress you with his swagger and style. After that, you'll probably notice a change in him. He'll start to relax a bit and maybe even start looking forward to spending time with you. Buggy the babysitter isn't such a wild idea after all.

And if for some reason Buggy isn’t the one taking care of you, it’s most likely Mihawk who steps up. Crocodile's usually buried under a mountain of responsibilities, so Mihawk takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. Now, unlike Buggy, Mihawk's not exactly awkward around kids. He's just... well, himself. You know, all serious and stoic, like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. He doesn't really have much experience with children, so he kinda just treats you like a mini-adult. No baby talk or anything like that, he just sees you as a little human being. But don't worry, he's not some mean old grump or anything. He's just firm. Firm as in he won't tolerate any disrespect or nonsense from you, but he's not gonna yell or anything like that. His gaze alone is usually enough to keep you in line. Oh, and whatever you do, don't even think about touching his sword. Seriously, that thing's like his baby—the last thing he wants is a crying kid with a cut because they were being too clumsy. He might let you take a good look at it though. So look all you want, but keep those small hands off. But you know what he will let you have? His hat. If you beg ask him nicely enough, he might just let you borrow it for a little while. So go ahead, give it a try. Who knows, maybe wearing Mihawk's hat will make you feel like a little pirate captain or something.

And then there's Crocodile. When it's his turn to take care of you, his approach is pretty straightforward. He'll plop you down somewhere near him and tell you to behave and stay out of his way while he works on stuff. But what kind of kid is just going to sit there quietly and stare at their dad work on a bunch of boring papers? None. Exactly. So naturally, you start to get a bit antsy. At first, you try to be subtle. You scoot over a bit closer and peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he's so engrossed in. And what do you find? Boring paperwork. You sigh, plopping back into your seat, feeling utterly defeated by the sheer dullness of it all. Then the questions start. "Crocodile," you call out. He doesn't look at you, but you know he's listening. "What are you working on?" "Work," he replies, his voice flat and uninterested. "Crocodile," you try again. "Hmm?" he grunts. "Why are you so tall?" "Why are you so talkative?" "Crocodile," you persist. "What?" "Can I have one of your rings?" "No." He goes silent again, but you're not giving up that easily. "Crocodile," you say once more. This time, he finally glances over at you, annoyance etched across his face. Perfect, you think—this is your chance to unload all those burning questions. So you start firing away. "Why are you called Crocodile? Are you a crocodile? How did you get that scar on your face? Can you make a sandcastle? Can I have your hook? Can I have your coat? Can you make my hair like yours? Can you make me cool like you?" He listens in silence as the barrage of questions comes his way, his eyebrow quirking slightly at the rapid-fire interrogation. "Kid, where are all these questions coming from?" he finally asks, unable to hide the hint of exasperation in his voice. “My head," you say innocently, flashing him a wide-eyed look. It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes at your annoyingly cute innocence.

Now, when it's the three of them—Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy—all tasked with taking care of you at the same time, things can get pretty complicated. On one hand, you have the stern swordsman and the no-nonsense sandman keeping a close eye on you while you and Buggy play patty cake. It's a weird dynamic. Buggy's usual strategy in this situation is to dive headfirst into playing kids' games with you, trying his best to act like he's fully engrossed in the fun. But you can tell he's a bit on edge, especially when you notice him glancing nervously over his shoulder, feeling the burning stares of Mihawk and Crocodile boring into the back of his head. Sometimes, the tension gets to be too much, and Mihawk and Crocodile can't resist giving Buggy a hard time, even in front of you. It's like one of those awkward moments when you're watching your sibling get scolded by your parents. You can see Buggy's face go pale, and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. But then there are those moments when you step in to defend him. Buggy has never felt more grateful and relieved in his entire life than when you stand up for him like the little knight in shining armor you are. And believe it or not, your defense actually does make somewhat of a difference. Mihawk and Crocodile are way too mature to start bullying a child for defending Buggy, no matter how much they can't stand him. Plus, the last thing they want to deal with is a full-blown crying session from a grown man and child. Sure, your defense might earn Buggy even more glares from the two men, but it also makes them back off a bit. You can imagine Buggy clinging to you like a damsel in distress while you stand there, fierce and determined, protecting him with everything you've got. It's a sight that definitely annoys Mihawk and Crocodile. But hey, at least Buggy's got someone in his corner.

It’s pretty much a given that with Crocodile and Mihawk watching over you, you're practically untouchable. Even Buggy, despite his penchant for getting into trouble, wouldn't intentionally put you in harm's way. Sure, he may accidentally stumble into dangerous situations from time to time, but deep down, all three of them care about you—even if they don't always show it. Since you often spend the most time with Buggy, it's not uncommon for him to inadvertently lead you into precarious predicaments. Take, for example, that time you found yourselves perched on a rocky hillside, with Buggy enthusiastically rambling on about how cool and flashy he is. But then, in a classic Buggy move, he trips and starts tumbling down the hill—with you in tow. You’d think your life would flash before your eyes in a moment like that, right? Wrong. Instead, it's Buggy's life and yours flashing before his very eyes. The panic he's feeling right now is like when Crocodile and Mihawk are giving him those death glares, except multiplied by a thousand. But here's the thing: Buggy's luck? It seems to have rubbed off on you because, miraculously, you came out of this whole ordeal without a scratch. Meanwhile, poor Buggy's got a bloody nose, a bruised face, and who knows what else. But the moment he sees that you're okay, it's like a floodgate of relief and joy bursts open. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, cradling you like you're some precious treasure he's just unearthed. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. And it's not just because of the screaming clown in front of you—it's also because you know he's genuinely relieved that you're okay. (Think of that one part in the movie The Lion King when Rafiki just holds Simba high up—except in this situation it’s Buggy holding you high up and screaming out of joy like some madman. I legit had to search for this scene on YouTube because I forgot that dang monkey's name.) The only problem now is that Buggy's got to come up with a good explanation for those injuries he’s got when Crocodile and Mihawk inevitably catch sight of him.

When hunger strikes, Mihawk is usually your go-to guy. He's not just the world's greatest swordsman; he's also a fantastic cook. If he ever decided to retire or whatever, he could easily become a top-notch chef. Or he could be the world's greatest swordsman and chef at once, who knows. On the other hand, if you asked Buggy to cook, you'd probably end up with something burnt. And Crocodile? He'd just brush you off with a classic "go ask your dad" line, where "dad" in this case is Mihawk. Of course, Crocodile never actually calls Mihawk your dad, but you get the joke. Anyway, Mihawk takes his cooking duties seriously when it comes to you. He doesn't cook for you throughout the day. Instead, he wakes up at the crack of dawn and prepares enough food to last you the entire day. By the time you wake up, your meal is already waiting for you, perfectly packed and ready to go. And the impressive part is that Mihawk always packs just the right amount of food, ensuring that you're never left hungry or stuffed. It's like he has some kind of sixth sense for portion control. If, by the end of the day, you haven't seen Mihawk at all, you make a point to find him at night just to say thank you. Mihawk, with his usual stoic demeanor, nods at you and sends you off to bed. It's a small ritual, but it means a lot to both of you. Another thing about Mihawk is that he's meticulous about your diet. He makes sure you're eating healthy, well-balanced meals. Sure, he lets you have sweets now and then, but he's always careful to remind you about moderation. He'll explain how too many sweets can be bad for you—not to scare you off sweets entirely, but just to make sure you're aware. He doesn't want you polishing off your fourth chocolate bar of the day, especially since Buggy is probably sneaking them to you because he thinks you're the cutest thing ever. Overall, Mihawk's attention to your diet and well-being shows how much he cares, even if he's not the most expressive guy. He might be stern and serious, but his actions speak volumes.

You have this cute habit of constantly asking Crocodile to pick you up. Honestly, who wouldn't want to be hoisted high up by the tallest guy around? For a kid, it's like an instant rollercoaster ride that's thrilling and fun. At first, Crocodile's pretty reluctant. He’s not exactly the most nurturing figure, and he's out of practice handling kids. But you, with your endless persistence, your pleading eyes, and that adorable pout, eventually wear him down. The first time he gives in is pretty comical. He picks you up with a heavy sigh, clearly unsure of himself. For a moment, he just stares at you, probably wondering what he’s gotten himself into and debating whether he should put you back down or not. But then you flash him your brightest, most radiant smile, and he knows he’s stuck. He figures that if he puts you down now, the cycle of begging and pleading will start all over again. So he resigns himself to carrying you around as he goes about his day. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose where he takes you. Crocodile decides the route and destination, and that’s non-negotiable. If you start to complain about it, he'll fix you with a stern look and threaten to put you down and never carry you again. That usually gets you to pipe down pretty quickly. But all that aside, being carried by him is an absolute blast. He's so tall that you get an amazing bird's-eye view of everything around you. There's a thrill in being up high, combined with a comforting sense of security, knowing that Crocodile’s got you firmly in his grasp and won't let you fall. As for the way he carries you, it’s always in his arms. On very rare occasions, he’ll let you sit on his shoulders. But there's one rule: don't mess up his hair. Seriously, he’s adamant about that. So there you are, perched up high on Crocodile's shoulders, looking down at the world with a huge grin on your face. Despite his grumbling and sighs, you know he doesn't really mind. In his own gruff way, he’s grown fond of having you around.

You may be a handful, but you're their handful.

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writteninlunarlight-years · 2 days

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~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~

This is a lovely commission from a moon of mine. They wish to be anonymous, but I do have a brief description of the headcanons. Hazbin character finds out their friend is self-harming and how they would help them. Id like this one with Charlie, Angel Dust, and Sir Pentious Platonic Charlie, Angel Dust, & Sir Pentious x Reader

TW: SELF-HARM MENTIONED, COPING SKILLS (not all skills will work for everyone), ANGST/FLUFF

Charlie:

When the news was broken to Charlie that you had harmed yourself, she was the saddest she had ever been.

She tried hard to be as strong as she could for you, and she stood by your side.

She did all sorts of tasks until you were ready to start taking on things again.

She would try to get you to talk about why or what happened, but she quickly learned to just let you be.

She showered you in rainbows, glitter, and platonic love to show you she cared so much about you.

Whenever you opened up to her the first time, instead of harming yourself, she was ecstatic that you trusted her, and she hugged you for hours.

She will 100% cry with you and be there through the ups and downs

She learns about these places called rage rooms, and she makes it a deal with you that once a month, you two will go

Once all the damage and anger is out during your friend sessions, she will take you to your favorite food place and just talk with you about anything

She sends you daily texts asking you how you are and making sure that you are well

She does it at random times of the day, too, so you don't think she is doing it out of routine but because she cares.

Angel Dust:

Angel Dust understood the need to harm yourself to let the pain out all too well, but to see his best friend like that was painful.

He cleaned you up nicely and took you to a dive bar to discuss some things.

He is the most meticulous person out of everyone just because he gets it and knows how to get through it.

He bargains with you that he will cut down on drugs and booze if you get a therapist and do healing activities with him.

You two sign up for all sorts of activities around Pentagram City to take your mind off the bad.

You guys did photoshoots, dress-ups, safe parties, artwork, music, and anything to help make your mind travel elsewhere.

Over time, he would do nightly check-ins and make sure that you had no other tools or abilities to hurt yourself again.

Once you were clean for a while, he threw you a big party, disguising it as a half-birthday party or something wild, so only you two really knew the meaning of it.

If you ever relapse he is gentle and kind with you, starting the process entirely back over.

He never gets mad or puts you down if you have a relapse or bad day. He is understanding and helps you find your grove again.

He has no care in the world if you need to interrupt his shoots, and he will leave to take care of you.

If you get worried that Val will hurt him, Angel just tells you it's going to be okay and that you matter more to the world than a few extra shots that Val will assign.

Sir Pentious:

Pentious is the most anxious snake in the world. He is terrified when he hears the news because he thinks he is being a bad friend.

When you inform him why you did what you did, he is just as anxious, but he is anxious because he wants to prevent it from ever happening again.

He has the Egg Bois stay with you when he has to go and do something so you won't be alone.

He does extensive research on how to help with depression, anxiety, and self-harm. He even learns a trick or two for himself.

Once he is confident that he can help you and get you the help you need, he will relieve the Egg Bois of their duty.

He talks to you about literally every option for treatment and assistance.

He helps you decide to stay in a private hospital for the time being.

He visits every visitation, laughs, and talks with you in the communal spaces.

He is there to help you reintroduce yourself to daily life when you get discharged.

He practically moves in with you at one point, sleeping on your couch.

After a couple of months, he feels safe leaving you alone but makes sure his number is on speed dial.

He takes you to all your checkups and therapy appointments that you get scheduled.

He is texting you on the dot if you get prescribed medicine when you need to take it.

He reminds you every day how important you are to the world and that you are his and the Egg Bois best friend.

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ratgrinders · 2 days

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Lucy headcanon: she journals. But like the way Kafka journals where it is not helping her mental state at all and in fact may be making things worse. She’s such like a pretentious literary indie sad girl to me. She’s the girl behind a tumblr blog that romanticizes the ‘sad girl’ and ‘female rage’

Bonus: do the other ratgrinders journal? Does it help them or make them worse?

^^^^^^ sorry ur ask inspired me lmao

BUT YEAH god i love the interpretation of lucy as someone who kinda romanticizes sadness in a way, until it becomes Too Real and Too Close To Home now that she's actually died.

I think the rat grinders journal to varying degrees!

Kipperlilly i think got recommended to journal by jawbone, as a sort of "let your thoughts flow freely you you have a place to express them." kipperlilly doesnt see the point of it, she mostly just ends up writing really angry vent posts that almost tear the paper, which tend to get angrier as the year progresses.

Ruben i think maybe writes down song lyrics, doodles, maybe even poetry if he's feeling up to it, but he's less inspired with the rage crystal and hasn't been doing it as much. he does find it relaxing tho.

ivy im not sure? i could see her maybe scrapbooking or something like that. just making a collage out of a bunch of things that are meaningful to her.

oisins very practical and only ever writes notes, reminders, thoughts to himself. he probably uses it as an agenda of sorts to keep track of things.

mary ann doesnt journal, but she does blog lol, though i doubt its anything personal. shes just a very active forum poster, and i doubt shes keen on letting her personal thoughts be anywhere external.

buddys diary entry starts with "Dear diary <3, Oh golly, what a day! Every day is a trial under His good graces. Why, I was at a "social function" when this boy walked up to me asking if i wanted some of the "good stuff" because it looked like I needed some "positive vibes". I told him the only vibes I need come from the Holy Spirit, thank you very much. If only we could all walk in the light of Helio. I'll have to pray extra hard this evening to balance out the unholy vibes I was exposed to. Yours in Christ, Buddy Dawn <3"

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #original post #rat grinders #kipperlilly copperkettle #ruben hopclap #ivy embra #buddy dawn #lucy frostblade #mary ann skuttle #oisin hakinvar

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the-insouciant-scientist · 21 hours

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On the topic of characters with memory problems and Parabola, I wanted to talk a bit about how that works with Harper as both a system with memory loss and a Silverer.

One thing a lot of people know about Harper is that they're incredibly go-with-the-flow. They're known as Insouciant for a reason, after all. But not a lot of people realize just how deeply that's ingrained in them, or the fact it's its own coping mechanism. See something that doesn't make sense? They proceed as if it does, and don't think too deeply on it. Met the person whose body they've been living in for a few years now in the Waswood? They'll politely inquire as to how she's been and then allow themself to forget once she's moved on. Can't trust their own senses? They make no attempt to, then, simply put one foot in front of the other until they can see a way out. They accept the uncertainty, because to challenge it at the wrong moment would destroy them. Better to bend and recover later than break entirely.

That's also why they're so good in Parabola. Science and dreaming don't have to be diametrically opposed concepts, despite what Gebrandt seems to believe. They carry their own knowledge, but don't allow that knowledge to snare them. (Hence why they're able to pull all sorts of tricks behind the mirror, because they can use theories and facts as a springboard to then catapult themself full speed into the dream logic side of things.)

It all comes back to the idea that they already can't fully trust their own memory. Conversations happen with friends that they have no recollection of. Classes are taught, and they can only hope they happened as planned. Pens go missing and days are lost and sometimes they wake up on the rooftops of Spite with blood under their nails and no recollection of how they got there. They manage, because they must, because what's the alternative? It's easy for them nowadays to simply take it in stride and try to put the pieces together after the fact. And that in turn makes it very easy for them to accept the strange and the nonsensical as normal when they do their work as a Silverer.

So if someone else with memory problems needs help with Parabola, Harper would be very willing and able to provide guidance. They'd be happy to help work through things, if it's asked of them, but even moreso just… to help to distract. Easier to ignore the things that are best left forgotten if they're too busy talking about Parabolan botany, or showing off interesting shortcuts between areas, or what have you. But if something did slip through, be it unwanted memory or impossible-to-reconcile fact, there isn't a fiercer or more protective Silverer out there to have by their side. Because that's the thing: they understand firsthand what it's like. They have years of practice. And they will never, ever pass judgement on a desire to not face these things.

#the scientist scribbles #c: harper faraday #they're full of questions and a burning need to know and understand. until they aren't. hope that helps <3

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mochinomnoms · 3 days

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hi mochi! i had a question about jade and since you made me basically love him as a character, i wanted to ask you that! my friends and i are debating whether or not jade's magic is underpowered. compared to other students, his seems super weak (it has too many downsides, etc.). what do you think about his power? could it also be that he's hiding the full potential? it seems like a cool theory, but i don't believe that will ever be true. thats all, have a great day! ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

I think that it's not necessarily underpowered, as if used in the right circumstances, it can be extremely useful if cast on the right people. I think that the reason Jade keeps his signature spell under such tight wraps (not many know of or how his spell works outside of Azul, Jade, and Kalim as of Book 4 along with Yuu and Grim) is because it can still sort of work.

For example, if all someone knows is that Jade's spell can make you tell the truth, and he is able to back you into a corner to the point that you're terrified, he could just say the words to his spell and you would be inclined to tell the truth because you think you're under the spell. Like a placebo!

It might also be the case that his spell can change/adapt as he gets stronger. Like Kalim's power, his rain spell can change size depending on how much water he wants. It can be a bit or a lot as we see in Book 3. Similarly, Azul's spell had to be placed under the restriction of the golden contract in order to limit it, lest he overblot. These are things that have to be learned, so with practice and a stronger/larger magic pool that might come from age, he could figure out how to use it more than once on a person.

But that's my view on it! I like to think that his reputation is what mostly helps with the effectiveness of his signature spell. I don't see him just for Azul's work, knowing that he can only use it once, but if his prey is scared enough...well he doesn't even need to use it!

#mochi asks #ghousus #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #i think he can learn to use it on people multiple times #it would help with the 'family business' but it will take some work and practice

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robert-plant-for-president · 2 days

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Pagetation from interview with Rolling Stone Magazine. Here’s the relative part of the quote. Good interview and insight from Jimmy. - But how did you put those concepts into practice? Jimmy: When we got Led Zeppelin, when there was this wonderful rhythm section there, I got Robert down to my house and we discussed the sort of stuff that I wanted to do. I played him some things. One of them being “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You,” because I’d already worked out what I wanted to do on the guitar. I said, “I know this sounds a bit abstract, but if you can sing that sort of melody, stick to that plaintive melody line Joan Baez is singing, you’ll see how it fits.” He does it, and he’s like, “Yeah, this is great.” It was just a joining of two minds. It was wonderful.So by the time we went into the rehearsal, it really, really kicked, because now you’ve got four people all firing on all cylinders to the point where it’s one, two, three, four in, and from the very first bar is a life-changing experience for each and every one of us in that room. By the time we finished playing, we’re all looking at each other and smiling because we’d never played with any other musicians to arrive at that sort of chemistry. And that chemistry continued all the way through the band.

#LedZeppelinI #LedZeppelinMeet #RobertPlant #JimmyPage #JohnBonham #JohnPaulJones #RollingStoneMagazine

#robert plant #led zeppelin #jimmy page #john paul jones #rock gods #john bonham

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lvrs-street2mmorrow · 1 day

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Scary? My God, You’re Divine

| part 1

pairings: ghost! beomgyu x fem! reader, coworker! yeonjun x fem! reader

summary: you’re excited to start a new chapter of life, moving into a relatively nice little place. though your landlord had said the place was old as rocks, it was remodeled and made new. you were never the type to be especially involved with the paranormal, but it becomes hard to deny that your new place has some quirks.

warnings: nothing really just a little angst

wc: 1.4k

a/n:i wanted to show you my work but i tried to get it out quickly so I’m sorry it’s short😭

You stand with your hands on your hips, admiring your hard work of getting those heavy boxes full of furniture into the sad, empty house by yourself. You mumble to yourself, "This is stupid."

You turn around to walk back outside since there’s no heater or AC yet, and it’s boiling in the new modern house.

Once you’ve left the house, you lock the door behind you and get in your car. Once you’re back home, you're holding your cup of coffee, your keys, and a bunch of other stuff, including your phone.

As you unlock the door, you hear something and brush it off as some sort of water pipe noise because the website said it was just remodeled, but the house is fairly old.

When you walk in, you see the old ceramic vase your mother made for you in your freshman year of highschool. You wonder why it’s on the ground since it was packaged away in some big heavy box you were too lazy to look in. You convince yourself you’re just too tired to remember that you grabbed it because you just moved in. Why would you try to make yourself scared like a little kid?

As you pump up your temporary air mattress and lay down your pillow, you hear a small tap on the wall but just roll your eyes, thinking it’s nothing.

When you wake up and check the kitchen where you planned to unpack things first, you see a fork on the marble counter that you didn’t place there. You shrug and put it into the silverware drawer with the silverware organizer you put there yesterday before you slept.

Once your two best friends, Huening Kai and Huening Bahiyyih, arrive, they help you move things and place items such as shelves and your couch. Kai hears a sound from the pantry full of cans you packed. He opens the door and sees that somehow one of the corn cans ended up with the green bean cans. He huffs, "Bahiyyih, I swear if you put this corn can on the—"

He and Bahiyyih hear a sudden scream from upstairs followed by a shout of "BUG!" and a few footsteps. But once she gets off the stairs, there's an extra footstep behind her that wasn’t hers. They think nothing of it because there is practically nothing in the house besides basic furniture: a couch, a bed, a desk, and a few appliances in the kitchen so it could have just been an echo.

Kai calls out your name, “Yo, did you put this can here?” You walk over and shake your head as you grab a water bottle. “No, why? I thought you guys were in charge of the food.” He huffs, “We were until Bahiyyih decided to spill water everywhere.”

You laugh as she pouts. “It was an accident!” she confesses, and Kai rolls his eyes. “Right…”

As the three of you set up the sleeping arrangements for the night, Kai and Bahiyyih leave to get some food. You are by yourself, sitting on the bed you are sharing with Bahiyyih, while Kai sleeps on the mattress on the floor.

You feel a cold gust pass through you and turn your head to check the temperature in the house. Something moves out of the corner of your eyes, and quite literally nothing could’ve prepared you for there to be a man standing at the doorway of your bedroom. You freeze.

“What are–who are you?’ You ask, muscles taut and ready to bolt. He just looks at you for a good minute, then opens his mouth to talk and says “you can see me?” he says with a tilt of his head.

You sit up and say, "Get out of my house, or I'll call the police!" He doesn't reply; instead, he sits there for a moment, then goes invisible for a second and reappears. You stand there in shock, your mouth open, and he just stares at you.

As soon as Kai and Bahiyyh get back, the man is immediately gone. They ask, "Girl, we just got you food. Are you okay?" Still a little shaken up, you reply, "Yeah, I'm just tired from moving a bunch of heavy boxes." Kai laughs, and you nod, going to grab the food the two goblins started eating before they got to the house.

You huff getting up and the others say they’re gonna go sleep so you decide to leave your food uneaten and just go sleep.in the morning your friends wake you up and it’s around 7 and 8am and you whine “shut up” she say with a pout because you want to sleep and they say “girl you have to wake up if you want to be over fixing up the house”

Once the house is finally organized, they leave, give you hugs, and you wave them goodbye. After they’re gone, you plop onto the couch to watch a movie. The only thing you're interested in is Mean Girls, it’s the only good thing on Netflix.

A few minutes before the movie ends, you hear a sound from the kitchen. You get up to check if it’s a mouse, as the landlord mentioned there might be mice in the first week. However, when you get there, the same man is standing there.

He’s wearing a fancy outfit with a white button-up top that looks like something a prince would wear, black dress shoes, and black formal pants. You back away and say, “Why are you in my house again? I said I’ll—”

He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you. When he steps, his steps don’t make a sound as he says, “Your house?”

You threaten to call the police on him again, and the handsome man tilts his head. “What’s the police?”

You say, “Are you stupid.” He just looks at you and shrugs his shoulders.

He says, “Well, my name's Beomgyu—”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not asking for your name. I’m asking you to get out of my fucking house,” you say,watching his movements with caution.

You sigh. “How long have you been here?” you ask, not as a question but as a demand.

When you try to touch him to drag him out of your house, your hand goes through him. You stop, and the world crashes around you. Did your hand just go through his arm? You sit open-mouthed, grasping at straws for a plausible reason for why that would happen. There are none. He seems a bit startled, too, watching your hand go through him. You stare at each other, a bit comically.

And then, like a wave that curls over and sucks you under, it hits you; you’re insane.

The man speaks. “how did that happen?”

You stand in shock like a deer in headlights, thinking you're literally insane, and you shrug. "I… I don't know what just happened." You go to grab him again and again, but your hand just keeps going through him with a small 'woosh' each time.

He says, just as scared as you, "I can't feel anything." he turns his head to look around your room and he says “are we insane?” you shrug replying “wait..what’s your last name..” you trail off forgetting his name “it’s Choi,Choi beomgyu is my name”

You look him up and down despite being terrified of him. "What are you wearing?" you ask, sighing as you judge his old-looking clothes. This guy looks like he's about to go to a Renaissance faire, you think, before your thoughts are cut off by him.

"Does your husband possibly know you've intruded on his wardrobe?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk you just want to smack off his face.

You put your hands on your hips. "I don't have a husband. What do you mean?" You say it like you're truly offended, but you know you're not and you'd like to stay without one. You remember some sob story your aunt told you about boys when you were thirteen, and you've been avoiding boys left and right since then.

Later, you (well, mostly you) search up his name on Google, and it says that he was born in 1500 and died in 1523. He was a poet and a songwriter. It doesn’t mention the cause of death, and Beomgyu himself doesn’t seem to know how he died. He says, "I'm dead?" with a sad tone. You look at him in terror because you're literally looking at a ghost.

END PART 1

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 day

Text

WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP upate:

Currently working on ch 4 of The King's Gift. This is where the plot will slowly start to pick up, and I'm looking forward to getting some action and drama in.

@cuips-not-cute has already gotten started on some first sketches for Updraft, and let me tell you, I am in LOVE! Planning on getting chapter 4 done by the end of this month.

18 out of 29 celebration requests are done, with more coming early next week, once I finish my ficlet for this month's pop-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Send me an emoji and I'll write and share three sentences from that project.

🏰The King's Gift

⚙️Updraft (my @steddiebang2024 fic with art by @cuips-not-cute)

🥳Celebration ficlets/holiday drabble

Snippet from 🏰

Speaking of Max, she’s already in the yard when he arrives. She's holding two horses by the bridles - a large and imposing-looking black one and a slightly smaller one with a beautiful, light tan coat - and deep in conversation with a scowling Eddie.

“I don’t care about your excuses,” he hears her say as he approaches. Since she has her hands full with the horses, she can’t poke a finger at Eddie’s chest, but Steve has an inkling that she absolutely would if she could. “I want you to return them in top condition. Not a hair out of place, you hear me?”

“You wound me, Red,” Eddie slaps a hand to his chest, all dramatic affront. “When have I ever handled your precious animals with anything but the utmost care?”

She measures him with a withering look, jerking her head at the black horse, which moves its ears nervously, almost like it’s sensing they’re talking about it.

“Yeah? Was or wasn’t he practically caked in mud the last time you brought him back?”

Eddie scowls, suddenly very interested in the tips of his boots.

“‘s not my fault he likes rolling in it.”

“Oh, so it’s mine? Is that what you’re saying?”

“What? No,” Eddie groans, raking a frustrated hand through his mop of curls - sloppily tied back with a string of leather today. “C’mon, Max, you know that’s not what-”

She talks over him.

“You know what, I don’t care. But if you bring him back looking like a pig, you can clean him up yourself. No running off on important king business, no urgent matters suddenly demanding your attention. You take care of your own messes, do you-”

“Steve,” blurts Eddie, who has finally spotted him standing a few feet off, following the argument with wide eyes. “You made it! Robin found you then!”

He flounces over, leaving Max to glare daggers into his back, smile wide and overjoyed as every time they see each other.

“Yeah, obviously,” Steve retorts. He shakes his head exasperatedly, but can’t quite help the fond little smile that tugs on his lips. When Eddie entwintes their fingers to pull him over to where Max is still waiting with the horses, he doesn’t flinch or pull back his hand. He’s slowly starting to get used to Eddie’s very physical ways of showing affection. “What is this about? She said you had some sort of surprise for me?”

“Couldn’t keep her mouth shut if she tried, that one, huh?” Eddie huffs good-naturedly, and Steve resists the urge to point out that he can’t talk, exactly - not with the way his own mouth tends to go a mile a minute when he gets into a topic he’s really excited about. “As a matter of fact, I do. C’mon, let me introduce you.”

“Can I go then?” Max asks as they approach. Her face is set into her usual, annoyed frown, but when Steve smiles at her in greeting, she cracks a toothy grin in reply. “I have better things to do than watching you two being all lovey dovey.”

“Hey, we’re not-” Steve starts to say, but Eddie pushes past him, taking the bridles out of her hands and shooing her off.

“You go ahead, I’ve got it.”

Max flashes Steve an obnoxiously smug grin as she skips off into the stable buildings.

“Have fun,” she says. “Don’t let him roll in the mud.”

“For fuck’s sake, that was one time,” Eddie groans.

“I was talking to Steve,” Max calls over her shoulder, and then she’s gone, the stable door slamming behind her.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wip ask game #wip weekend

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