#even though this might just be a bunch of trash

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette

#steddie #my fic #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne pov #was this resolved on a quicker timeline than makes sense for men in the 80s? #maybe. but i dont care because if i wanted realism i would be asking my dad about the gripes and grudges he holds against his dad #(he was a teenager in the 80s) #but i wanted soft munson family vibes so you are all welcome for that #also please know that eddies not magically over it. #it's been four days of steve pestering him and reminding him that wayne loves him and he loves wayne #sorta edited. if u see a mistake no you didnt #OH NO I FORGOT THE READ MORE IM SO SORRY. added now

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

#behave boys taste testing is a Very Important job #steddie #steddie ficlet #rueswriting #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fluff

[ugh-yoongi]

so sorry it took me a few days to get this together for you, but i hope you enjoy some of these!

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i'm sure there are a bunch i've forgotten, so please feel free to reblog and share your own work and your faves!

also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won't be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.

hobi x reader

guarded & kanalia by @xjoonchildx — basically anything by ana lbr

just practice & we float by @anotherbtswriter

gone wild by @johobi

liar, liar by @eoieopda

party on you by @here2bbtstrash

do i wanna know? by @yoongiphoria

started with a spark, now we're on fire by @the-boy-meets-evil

renegade by @junghelioseok

midnight confessions by @snackhobi

cry to my room by @kithtaehyung

matters of the heart by @hobidreams

plant boy by @gukyi

sunlit affair by @ubemango

the art of war by @wwilloww

not today, satan by @gimmethatagustd

the wood by @sailoryooons

virtuoso by @hamsterclaw

even though by @moni-logues

anything by @dilfhoseokie

upbeat

for the first time (what's past is past)

same old mistakes

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)

as always, mxm fics (aka me being embarrassing sope trash) under the cut!

member x member

little miracles by @here2bbtstrash (jihope)

you're not mine, but you're the best (jihope) ⭐

i only always think (jihope)

you made me dream when i couldn't sleep (jihope)

walk the walk (jihope)

polaroid (jihope)

a midnight clear (jihope) ⭐

got an offer you might refuse (jihope feat. jin)

i don't want it at all (jihope feat. jin)

please be my finale (sope) ⭐

i've been calling your name (in this whole universe) (sope)

nothing without sunlight (sope)

same damn hunger (sope) ⭐

hot fuss (sope)

i'd love it if we made it (sope) ⭐

rub your feelings down my spine (sope)

kiss me hard before you go (sope) ⭐

how easy this should be (sope)

all my days (i'll know your face) (sope)

those ocean eyes (sope)

leave you drowning (until you reach for my hand) (sope)

reputation (sope)

snapshots from the breakdown (sope) ⭐

the best is yet to come (sope)

my hands down your pants (no homo) (sope)

first times and stuff & an experiment in threesomes (sope feat. jk)

at least i got you in my head (hopekook)

10/10, would do again (hopekook)

bone + tissue (hopekook)

telepathy (rapline)

delta (rapline)

i get those goosebumps every time (rapline)

i'm on fire (rapline)

when the moon rises (namseok)

how i'm imagining you (namseok)

in your atmosphere (namseok)

why don't you figure (my heart) out (namseok)

the universe needs more you (namseok)

bated breath (2seok)

smile like you mean it (2seok)

gingerbread (2seok)

cowboys love horses (2seok)

natural gnosis and the chaos therein (2seok) ⭐

telepathy for virgins (2seok)

⭐ = personal mxm favorite. please read any of these and return to scream over them with me.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #fic rec

[gallusrostromegalus]

How does trash pickup, Recycling centers, &/or Hazardous Material Disposal work for Soul Society in AEIWAM? Is there a Kido-based ritual to break things down into Reishi? Are there Tech Repair Shops?

Sewage in Soul Society works really well but very dangerously because those fucking idiots built the city directly on top of an active supervolcano.

Let me back up:

There isn't a good consensus on how big the Seireitei is (Yoruichi says it takes 10 days to walk 1/4th of the way around the circumference, but whether that's her speed, the average person's or how long a patrol group takes is unclear), Or any real maps of the place, but it's generally agreed that

the city is LARGE. Yoruichi says it would take her and the kids ten days to walk to the next gate 1/4th of the way around the city. Maybe that's 8 hours average human walking speed minus 'trying to herd a bunch of teenagers' but that's still a long trip!

Even before the Seki-Seki stone wall was put up, the city was pretty much circular.

Unlike pretty much every real city, there's no river running through it. Where are they getting their water?

There is a Small but substantial and TOTALLY ISOLATED mountain in the middle of the city made of apparently hard-to-mine rock. A Lonely Mountain, one might even say.

The only visible natural sources of water I've seen evidence of are hot springs in both the Yoruichi/Urahara Super Secret Training Ground/Love Nest and the first division grounds.

Soul Society is run by jackasses and if there's a stupid way to do things, that's the way they're doing them.

In fact, the Soul Society as a whole is almost suspiciously Amestris-shaped, but instead of nefarious alchemy, it's negligent civil engineering

...all this leads me to believe that Seireitei is built DIRECTLY ON TOP OF the caldera of an enormous supervolcano. The city gets it's water from the aquifer of rainwater that's collected in the underground cracks and fissures of the Caldera, and the seki-seki stone wall is set up around the really convenient geographic barrier made by the rim of the caldera.

"Hey!" I hear some of you nerds objecting "Aren't calderas usually concave? Seireitei is convex, if anything!"

You're right! Most Calderas are concave! But they will absolutely fill in with sand and dirt over the true floor of the caldera over time and develop Mounts like the thing at the central part of the city and start to rise WHEN THEY'RE ON THE VERGE OF A CATASTROPHIC ERUPTION.

So yeah! The Gotei-13 has an almost infinite supply of hot water, and probably less than a century to figure out what to do before The Big Kaboom.

Anyway, back at sewage:

There's been a city where the Seireitei is since time immemorial, and even though it's done the istanbul-not-constantinopple shuffle a few times, very little of the actual infrastructure has changed. Empires rise and fall but the desire paths stay the same.

This is especially true in Seireitei, because unlike very nearly every major IRL Municipality, it doesn't have a river running through it, something that usually necessitates Sewer updates By Force. But compared to a river which is constantly moving around in it's bed, a volcanic aquifer doesn't move much until it moves a whole fucking lot real fast, so the undercity of the Seireitei has really had time to... Develop isn't quite the right word.

"Ferment" is closer.

Above-ground waste management is the provenance of the actual local city government- yes, there is a Mayor of the Seireitei that the Gotei-13 has to pay property taxes to. Yamamoto maintains a lot of goodwill with the Mayor by dint of sentencing ill-behaved shinigami to shore up the municipal labor pool, and by knowing the mayor's family for the last millennium. So you'll see Shinigami doing things like trash collection and street-sweeping, but they're just there on probation.

-But nobody wanted to deal with the undercity. It's got a soul of it's own. Washington DC, which is less than 500 years old as a city and on top of a swamp, has an undercity that goes down over half a mile. Imagine how deep the sunken buildings, abandoned secret tunnels, and sewer system of a city that's millenia old, not sitting on actual mud and constantly subjected to high levels of magical background radiation might develop.

An Appetite, for one thing.

The 11th likes to talk a big game, but the reason the 4th is in charge of sewer maintenance is because the only people with the guts for it were people who got degrees rummaging in the guts of living people. Sewer maintenance really is a lot like abdominal surgery, if you were able to walk around inside the patient.

It was Retsu Unohana's idea, actually. Chigiri was a battle medic and aged rapidly for a shinigami. She was old when the court guard finally went from "Yamamoto and his gang of assholes" to "A for-real governing body". Her successor, Kirinji was more interested in traumatic injury recovery than preventative medicine, for obvious reasons- his triage was constantly full of combat casualties and early kido experiment victims Blood Loss was still his #1 Killer.

But Retsu had been reincarnated in and spent her youth in South 80, in the utterly undeveloped conditions there, and held deep, personal grudges with Dysentery and Cholera. For all his talk of healing waters, Kirinji had no sense of the importance of water sanitation, and it was a continuous point of contention between them for her apprenticeship.

"FINE!" He shouted one day after a particularly nasty row. "IF IT'S SO GODDAMN IMPORTANT TO YOU, YOU HANDLE IT! FORM NOW ON, YOU'RE IN CHARGE OF SEWAGE, SLUDGE QUEEN!"

She made her first descent the next morning.

She did not return for six weeks, and Kirinji almost thought he'd resloved that particular problem when she reappeared from the depths, a changed woman. That long in the darkness, alongside the buried secrets and skeletons of the city, with the horrors that did not dare brave the sunlight- it would change anyone, and most would come up looking at least mildly haunted.

Retsu Unohana is not most.

She looks radiant, almost like The Kenpachi again, covered in the horrors of the underground as she used to be covered in blood. She thrives on a challenge, and excels at the art of purification, and now, she has been given the single greatest challenge of purification in history. There is something beautiful and terrible in her eyes as she explains that it does down at least five miles, look at this, she thinks it's from the neolithic era, and there are incredible boneyards of thousands of skeletons, and fungi the likes of which she's never seen before- She is ecstatic- a creature kept in captivity, finally released into it's natural habitat.

It's hardly a surprise, if you consider Minazuki. Stingrays are benthic creatures, right at the bottom of the river, deep in the muck and decay.

It's been a little over eight hundred years into her tenure as a medic, and she has tamed much of the beast. The upper levels are well-mapped and have been made clean and well-lit, enough that even the civilian sanitation forces of the city can regularly enter and work in them without any particular unease. Infant and preventable disease mortality has dropped astronomically. Nobody's had cholera since the 1800's . While they have other jobs, all members of the 4th division are required to take at least one tour in the depths of the undercity.

Horrors still lurk in the depths.

They're pretty sure they lost Tokagero Kenpachi chasing one of those, shortly before Unohana became captain, and she's been reluctant to let other divisions assist since then. The Fourth Division's Fourth Seat, rumored to be the unluckiest post in the entire Gotei-13, is permanently stationed underground, and she loves it that way.

It's only recently that the 11th has been allowed to come along on descents, after Zaraki vanished for two days and then emerged victorious from a manhole in the 5th division with a tentacled horror she'd been tracking for decades that lived at least three miles down. He apologized- he had meant to come up in the 4th to present it's corpse to her directly, but well, you know what his sense of direction is like. Anyway, I saw it scuttling around in the rain aquifers and we don't need it tracking literal shit into the water supply so I went after is and d'ya think maybe I can take the lads down sometime? They' get lazy between deployments and you have a triage up here to manage.

Charmed, she agreed.

---

Hm. I just re-read that ask and it's actually about dry waste managment.

Sorry. I got very excited about the sewers.

I am now about to get worse about trash.

I don't think they have plastic in soul society- given how bug-themed the 12th division is, I'm pretty sure the casing on Rukia's soul pager is made of Chitin, and if you break it, it bleeds. Also it makes people with shellfish allergies break out in hives.

Since pretty much all the waste in Soul Society is either recyclable or organic matter, I think those trash pits Yumichika and Ganju were fooling around with are really more like Kido-enhanced composting centers. All waste goes into them and the bottom of the pit is pulled out in a tray, like with a vermiculture tower, if the worms were eighteen and a half feet long and hungry enough to swallow anything that falls in the pit, because Mayuri is incapable of making anything that is not at least slightly awful.

The compost is then shaken out for any spare glass or metal that made it into the compost and that's sent off to the 12th division forges to be recycled. it's baked to kill any dangerous pathogens and Giant Garbage Worm Eggs so they don't breach containment, and measured for nitrogen, phosphorus and other important plant nutrient content. Based on it's composition, it's then shipped out to farmers in the upper districts of the rukongai because "Free, A+ grade fertilizer if y'all don't start revolutions, pay your taxes and give us first dibs on crops" is an amazing incentive for rural farmers to not start backing the local warlords.

It was 12th division founder Uhin Zenjohji who came up wth the scheme- he remembered the lengths upper-district farmers were willing to go through to make sure their land remained fertile, what kind of demand Nitrogen was in, and the ravages of phosphorous runnoff, so he could kill two birds with one clod of shit by supplying farmers with 'free' fertilizer that kept them loyal to the court and was tailored to that area's nutritional needs and watershed capacity.

The fact that it kept a lot of swamp and waterway areas pristine so he could indulge his birdwatching hobby was a nice benefit too :).

NORMALLY, those pits are covered, clearly marked, and usually the site of a major traffic jam because that's the local collection point, but when Ichigo and friends arrived, Aizen had whipped everyone into believing they were being invaded by an elite force of super-assassins and not like. 4 high schoolers and a furry. All the street signs and markings came down, civilians shuttered themselves inside, and generally made the Seireitei as difficult to navigate as possible.

I wonder how much Zaraki's rotten sense of direction was exacerbated by that.

ANYWAY! That's my thoughts on trash! Deep undercity horrors and giant compost worms over an active volcano!

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #Retsu Unohana #zaraki kenpachi #tenjiro kirinji

[leossmoonn]

five nights with mike (2) | mike schmidt

read part one

summary - a romance develops between you and mike at freddy’s

warnings / includes - reader is fem. established feelings. natural time skips. very loosely follows the plot of the movie but i didn’t want to watch it again for this lol. eventual smut - piv, oral f receiving, brief handjob

————

18+ under the cut

“thank you so much for picking me up. you might have to tomorrow, too.”

mike glances at you, giving you a small smile. “it’s no problem.”

you buckle yourself in and set your purse between your legs on the ground. “how is abby?”

“great. she asks about you all the time,” mike chuckles. “oh,” you sigh, putting your hand on your chest. “she’s adorable. maybe sometime we can eat lunch or something together.”

his heart spikes and he nods enthusiastically. “that-that would be awesome. yeah and, uh, i can pay this time. i can even make it, too.”

“mike schmidt cooks, huh?” you grin at him. “i only know how to make a few things, but i like cooking in general. just give me a recipe and i’ll try my best,” he says.

“mmm. well, i love a man who can cook,” you remark, looking out the window. heat creeps up mike’s neck and reaches his ears. “just let me know what kind of food you like, and i’ll make it. i’m not a trained chef or anything, though, so if it’s bad then i don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

“i bet you’re better than me. i personally like baking better,” you say.

“baking is cool, but it takes too long and i’m an impatient person.”

“well, how about you cook and i’ll bring the dessert.”

“oh, you don’t have to do that,” mike shakes his head. “you’re already so busy with work.”

“it’s no trouble. i’ve stated to get later shifts at my day job. it means i work later, but more time to sleep and some more time reserved for things like baking.”

“that’s great to hear. do you feel like you sleep better now?”

“no,” you snort. “if anything, i feel worse, but that’s just my brain. i can tell my body appreciates it.”

mike hums in response. “tonight you can sleep the majority of the shift if you’d like.”

“and leave you all alone? no. after what happened to abby, i’m kind of scared to sleep there.”

mike rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “don’t let abby scare you. she has lots of imaginary friends even before i took her there, which won’t be happening again.”

“right,” you sigh. “it’s just that i swore i heard other voices. like a man’s voice.”

mike feels the hairs raise up on his arms even under his jacket. “maybe tonight we can scope it out.”

“sure. hopefully we don’t die. imagine those fur things coming to life and murdering us,” you shiver in thought.

mike chuckles, “that would be wild.”

mike parks his car at the pizzeria. you grab your purse and lead the way in. as you step inside, there’s a cracking sound. you look under your shoe, seeing a bunch of glass on the floor.

“holy shit,” you gasp. you look at the diner, seeing it totally trashed.

“fuck, um. yeah, steve mentioned this to me earlier. i-i must’ve forgot,” mike says sheepishly. he really did forget. he must’ve been so clouded by his excitement to see you, he scraped his conversation with steve completely.

“it’s okay. it’s not like you warning me would’ve changed what happened.” you can’t believe your eyes. it seems like every table in the diner is flipped over or broken. glass litters the floor and you’re thankful you chose to wear sneakers tonight and not slippers like you have been. “what did happen?” you turn to mike.

“i guess a bunch of people came in here after we left and trashed it. i’m not sure why. i swore we locked all the doors.”

“yeah, i thought we did, too. we wanted to get abby out of here fast, though, so we could’ve missed something.”

“yeah, that’s what i was thinking, too,” mike sighs. “i guess you really won’t be getting any rest tonight.”

“it’s alright,” you shrug. “i just don’t know if we’ll be able to get the diner back to its original state.”

“it’s not like anybody but us comes here,” mike jokes. you smile and nod, “right.” you set your purse down on one of the booth tables that isn’t destroyed. “let’s get to it.”

mike and you spend most of the night cleaning. you were shocked to find even more mess in the hallway and kitchen areas. everything was going smoothly until you find what you think is blood splattered all over the storage room window.

“mike?” you call out. there’s no answer and a pang of worry hits your chest. “mike?” you shout louder.

“coming!” you hear him. fast footsteps echo in the hallway and you can’t help but feel creeped out. you always thought this place was weird and dinky. you only accepted the job because you found out another person was working, and while you feel very save with mike, you just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something seriously wrong with this place.

“what’s up?” mike asks. you point to the window and his eyes widen. “oh,” he says. “um, maybe that’s the blood of the person destroying the place?”

“maybe. but it’s from the inside.”

“yeah,” mike gulps. “we can tell steve about it or something. we were hired to babysit this place, not be a clean up crew.”

“right,” you nod. he grabs your hand gently and you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy. “let’s go back to the office. we only have a couple more hours here. we can relax from cleaning then just be done.”

you smile in agreement, letting him lead you out of the hallway. soon your mind wanders away from the eerie feelings. you talk about everything and nothing. you laugh at every terrible joke he makes. he listens intently to stories about your family. with each minute, it seems like you two get closer — both emotionally and physically. by the end of the shift, you’re sitting knee-to-knee. your foot is brushing up against his jeans, feeling the muscle of his calf. both of your hands are rested on the desk and his fingers routinely brush up against yours. soon, they’re basically intertwined. you don’t know how they got there, but you’re not complaining.

“looks like we made it without dying,” mike says. you grin, “until tomorrow.”

“shall i take you home, then?” he asks. your face falls and he catches it, but you’re quick to mask it. “yeah, sure.” the disappointment seeps into you, but you know you’ll see him again soon. you just wish you could have more time with him.

you both walk out, triple checking that everything is shut and locked. the car ride home is silent, but it’s comfortable. you glance at mike every so often, admiring him from the passenger seat. his hair is tousled from running his hands in it. his eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on driving, his eyes moving every so often as he watches the road. your eyes trial down the shape of his nose, noticing the tiniest bump towards the top.

dread fills you as he pulls into your driveway. you purse your lips as you try to think of what will allow you to spend more time with him.

“what’re your plans for today?” you ask. “nothing much. abby’s with a babysitter right now. thankfully, it’s the weekend so i don’t have to rush to take her to school,” he answers.

“ah,” you hum. he looks to you, seeing your face in deep concentration as you stare at your lap. “what about you? you work later today, right?”

“yep. at 2,” you say. he glances at the dashboard clock that reads 6:30 am. “you have a while then. are you tired?” he asks.

“not really. honestly, staying up all night kind of gave me a boost of energy.”

“me, too,” he nods. you can’t help but sigh. there’s no good reason for him to come inside or even for you to go back to his house. you figure you just have to wait until tonight.

“thank you again for driving me. are you able to pick me up later?” you ask.

“of course,” he nods. you smile, “great! i really appreciate it.”

“it’s really no problem,” he smiles. you start to get out of the car, but he stops you. “hey, can i, uh, use your bathroom really quickly?”

“yeah,” you nod a little too much. “thank you,” he says, stepping out of his car. you unlock the front door, trying to remember if you left your house a complete mess or not. you’re relieved to see that you did not.

mike looks around your house. it looks identical to his from the outside, but the inside is a whole different story. he wonders if you hired an interior decorator because of how beautiful it looks.

“the bathroom is down the hall to the right,” you say. he turns to look at you, then to the hallway. “thanks,” he says, making his way to the closed door.

you take off your shoes, placing them neatly on the small shoe rack you have by the door. there are some dirty dishes on the coffee table in your living room from your last meal, but you’re sure he doesn’t mind. everyone has dirty dishes laying out from time to time. you take the opportunity to load them in your dishes washer, re-folding some blankets and fluffing up the couch pillows.

you’re sat on your couch when mike comes out.

“are you hungry?” you ask. “no,” he lies. he wants to stay, but he doesn’t want to be a burden to you.

“oh, come on. we haven’t eaten in like, eight hours. at least i haven’t. i have some cinnamon rolls that would love to be baked.”

“would they, though?”

you giggle and stand up. “will your babysitter mind staying a little late?”

“i’ll call her,” mike says. he takes out his phone, dialing his home phone. it takes a moment or two for someone to pick up. “hello?” abby’s voice echos.

“hey, abby. is max there?” he asks. “yes. she just got me breakfast from mcdonald’s,” abby says.

“oh, that’s nice of her. do you mind if i speak to her real quick?”

“okay. max!”

mike quickly pulls the phone away as abby yells into the mic.

“hello?” max says. “hey, max. i, uh, got caught up at the pizzeria. are you able to stay and watch her for an hour or so?” mike asks.

“yeah, of course,” she says quickly. “awesome. i’ll pay you extra, i promise,” mike says.

“it’s okay, mike. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“yep,” he hangs up, waking into the kitchen where you’re setting out the dough.

“ah, these are pre-packaged,” mike remarks. “nobody has time to make cinnamon rolls by scratch,” you say.

“says the person who likes baking. or do you just like fake baking?”

“this is not fake baking!” you exclaim. “i am putting it in the oven and going to put icing over it.”

“whatever you say.” mike leans against your counter, crossing his arms over his chest. you can’t help but notice him flex his biceps.

“i bet you fake cook,” you quip. his brows raise in question. “and what does that entail?”

“you put a foam cup full of ramen and warm it up in the microwave.”

“those are delicious.”

“i mean, yeah, but it’s so hard to put an egg in it and sometimes the noodles aren’t soft enough.”

“well, i usually cook my ramen on the stovetop. so if i ever make you that, you’ll know it’s real cooking.”

you laugh at his joke, your eyes flickering from the rolls to him a few times. you think about doing this again with him, next time with him making you food. you think about being in his house, seeing how he lives, looking at the pictures he may have on the walls, or lack thereof. you think about sitting on his couch and watching a movie, shoulders and knees touching. you wonder what his room looks like, what color his sheets are. you want to know what he looks like sleeping and waking up. you want to know what he looks like on top of you and between your thighs.

“what else do you know how to make?” you ask.

“chicken pot pie.”

“pot pie? wow.” you are genuinely impressed.

“i’ve been told i make a mean stir fry, too.”

“you’ll have to make it for me then. does abby like your cooking?” you ask, putting the pan in the preheated oven.

“only if it’s spaghetti and waffles.”

“i see that she’s a simple girl.”

“food-wise, she is. but i don’t mind. they’re both easy things to make.”

“it’s sweet.” you turn to him, leaning against the counter diagonal from him. “how you take care of her. she’s lucky to have you.”

“truth is, i’m lucky to have her. we don’t always get along, but she keeps me going.”

“that is adorable,” you awe. “i am an only child, so i envy people who have siblings.”

“it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s nice just having someone there.”

“seems like it,” you say. you move to your coffee maker, turning it on and finding a k-cup to use. “would you like some coffee?”

“i would,” he nods. “can you grab us some mugs? they’re in the cabinet behind your head,” you direct.

he does so, placing the cups on the counter. he moves to slide it to you at the same time you put your hand on it. your heart skips a beat. your eyes shoot to his and you see they’re already on you. you watch his eyes trail down to your lips and the back up to your own eyes. you feel weak in the knees as he stares at you through his lashes. his eyes are wide and full of innocence, but there’s a hint of mischief in them as his pupils begin to widen.

“thank you,” you say, your voice coming out barely above a whisper.

“mhm,” he hums, his voice low and smooth. “how do you like your coffee?” you ask.

“one sugar and a splash of milk or creamer. whatever you have,” he answers.

“i have some creamer in the fridge.” you head towards your refrigerator. he watches you as you bite your lip as you search for the creamer. you shut the fridge door gently, setting the creamer next to the coffee maker. you open the cabinet above of you, grabbing a couple packets of sugar. he keeps his eyes on you as the silence settles in.

this feels so nice. being with you in your house feels nice. being close to you, spending time with you feels nice. mike wants to do this every day. he wants to fall asleep holding you close like he did the other night in the office. he wants to live with you and make dinner for you, having it await your arrival after your day shift. he wants to wake up next to you, tracing circles on your skin until they eventually become replaced with kisses. he wants to know how you’d look on top of him, riding his dick and face.

soon the cinnamon rolls are done. you take them out of the oven, waiting a few moments before icing them.

“you’re pretty good at icing,” you say. “thank you. these are kind of hard to ice since they’re so warm,” he chuckles.

“yeah, you’re supposed to wait, but i’m starving.” you take a bite into the roll, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. mike can’t help but notice that his jeans feel uncomfortably tight all the sudden. he takes a bite of his roll, making a note of how good they are.

“you can never go wrong with these,” you say. you take another bite, some icing sticking to the top of your lip. “you have a little bit of something here.” mike’s pinky points to his own lips.

“oh, god,” you laugh, heat creeping up your neck from embarrassment. “i should’ve warned you, i’m a messy eater.” you take a napkin and wipe it over the bottom half of your lip.

mike smiles and sets his roll down. “here, let me.”

you nod and place the napkin down, his fingers brushing against yours once more. he moves closer to you, leaning his head in to where your foreheads are almost touching. his gaze is trained on your lips as he cups your face, swiping his thumb over your lips. you don’t realize you’re holding in a breath until he looks into your eyes.

“thank you,” you manage to say. your throat feels dry all of the sudden and you feel hot all over. “no problem,” he says.

the air is thick between you two. you’re so close, closer than you’ve ever been. you can feel the heat radiating off of him. when you inhale you can smell him. he smells like the woods, spearmint, and vanilla. you can recognize the spearmint smell from his car. you wonder if the woodsy smell is natural and if the vanilla is the scent of his body wash.

he doesn’t move is hand away and you’re sure you don’t want him to. his eyes move across your face, not sure whether to stare at your lips or your eyes. he sucks in a deep breath, swallowing slowly. you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw becoming more sharp as he bites down on his back teeth for a moment.

“can i kiss you?” his voice is low and warm. your eyes flutter in surprise, your heart following in suit. his big brown eyes stare into yours, holding your eyes hostage.

“yes,” you finally say. he slowly moves in, his hand moving upwards to touch the nape of your neck. you try to control your breathing as you watch his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. he brushes his bottom lip against yours, causing a thrill to run up your spine. his head moves back slightly, but he makes up for it with closing the gap between you two.

kissing him feels like a weight taken off your shoulders. all the tension you’ve felt releases as you move your lips with his. he kissed you so gently, a little too soft, like he’s holding back. after a few seconds he pulls away, both of you catching your breaths.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he says. you smile, grabbing his free hand. “well, don’t stop.”

he kisses you again, this time harder. it’s almost bruising. he grabs your waist, holding you tighter and closer. you take a shower breath and his tongue slips into your mouth. you moan softly as his hand slivers down to your ass and squeezing the soft tissue. your arms wrap around him and your weave your fingers through his hair. it’s so soft like you’ve always imagined.

“can i do this?” mike breathes against your lips. your eyes are still closed as he slides both hands up your shirt. you answer him by pulling away completely and taking your shirt off, revealing your nude-colored bra. you expect his eyes to drop down immediately, but you watch as they follow your jaw and down your neck. they sweep across the area where your collarbones are, then finally landing on your breasts.

his hands walk up your sides, making you laugh a little bit. he smiles at you, his eyes jumping up to yours now. you can’t help but squeeze your thighs just by the way he’s looking at you. he attaches his lips to yours once more, but it’s not long before he starts to trail down to your neck and your chest. you unhook your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders to the ground. you lean against the counter as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your hardened nipples. you let out a little gasp as he pinches them, looking up at you to try and gage your reaction. he closes his lips around one nipple, flicking it with his tongue. you sigh this time, your hand falling to his head.

you feel his hands skim down to your pants. his fingers hook under the waistband, feeling over the cotton of your underwear. you shift your weight, feeling that the tension is almost unbearable. it’s painful as you watch him slowly slide down your pants. he runs his tongue down the valley of your breasts, pressing wet all over your tummy before landing at the top of your underwear. you step out of your pants, feeling the cold air hit your legs, making you shiver.

his left hand grabs the underside of your thigh. his hand is so warm against your cold skin. it feels nice, but not as nice as the feeling you get when he runs the pads of his fingertips down your underwear. he skims just over your slit, feeling some of the wetness that has collected. you want to slap the smirk off his face, but it makes your stomach flip.

“is there anything i should do?” he asks. now he looks all innocent, staring at you with wide eyes and raised brows.

“i could think of a few things,” you say. “mm, like what?” he inquires. his fingers are at the side of your panties. you watch in anticipation as you wait for him to pull them to the side. “tell me what you want,” mike says.

you swallow hard. “i… i want your fingers inside of me. and your mouth on me.”

you can see all of his top teeth as he smiles. “that’s all you had to say.”

you spread your legs, using the counter as a crutch. he pushes your underwear aside, slipping one finger into you. heat creeps up your neck at the sound of your cunt gushing. he slides it out momentarily, finding your clit to moisten the area. he slides two fingers in this time, curling them inside of you. he watches you again, seeing your lips part and chest heave up and down. you feel your brain go numb as he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he brings his mouth to your cunt.

“ohmygod,” you rush out, your head lolling back. his tongue flicks your clit, sucking every so often. you lead so far back your back is supported by your cabinets. one of your hands hold his head, your fingers gripping his hair. your other hand is digging your fingernails into his clothes shoulder.

“fuck, mike,” you gasp as he quickens the pace of his fingers ever so slightly. he hits that spot so perfectly, and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs around his head. his tongue starts making stronger strokes on your clit. not enough to make it hurt, but enough to make you feel like you’re already about to orgasm.

you’ve talked to mike about past lovers. you know he’s had a couple and for only short periods of time. you assumed he would be experienced, but not an expert, which you had no problem with. he’s sure as hell proving you wrong now.

“don’t stop, don’t stop,” you breathe out. you place one hand next to you on the counter, gripping the marble top so hard you think it might leave an imprint in your palm. “mike, mike,” you warn him, your throat constricting and heart racing. your toes curl in your socks and you clench your thighs around his head one last time.

you have to push his head away, seeing the dazed look on his face. his fingers exit you and he sucks them dry. you visibly gulp, feeling warmth fill your lower stomach as you watch him. all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and your heavy breathing.

“good?” he asks. “yes,” you nod enthusiastically. “so good.”

you grab him by his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you taste yourself on his lips. both of your hands drop down to his jeans, undoing his belt quickly. his heart skips in excitement as his pant pool at his ankles. you palm him through his brief, feeling how hard he it. it must be painful, you think, and it is. he was already hard from the moment he kissed you, and it didn’t get any better when giving you head.

you pull away and wet your hand with your spit, shoving your hand down his boxers. both of his hands grip your waist as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping it in your hands, squeezing every so often. your other hand reached down to his balls, massaging them gently, but at the same pace as your other hand.

“shit,” mike groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he already feels like he’s going to blow a load. he hasn’t had sex in a long while, but he didn’t his stamina was this terrible. he knows it’s you, though. you’re the reason why his fingertips are digging into your skin. you’re the reason why his pre-cum is leaking all over your hand. you’re the reason why when he feels like he’s close to coming, he stops you because he wants — no, needs — to feel what it’s like inside of you.

“do you have a condom?” mike breaths out. “yeah,” you say. you quickly make your way to one of your drawers, pulling out a packet. “these work?” you ask.

“yes,” he nods. “you just keep condoms laying around?”

“easy access,” you shrug.

“you fuck everybody in your kitchen, then?”

“only my hot co-workers.”

he blushes at your comment. you give him a wink, tearing open the condom. you hand it to him and he slides it on. you grab the bottle of lube you keep handy as well, slathering it onto the condom, giving mike a playful squeeze that elicits a low groan. he takes you by the waist and kisses you, spinning you around so now yours against the counter again. you take your panties off and hop on, the cold marble feeling nice against your blazing hot skin.

you lean back, watching mike line himself up with you. he looks into your eyes then back down, pushing himself inside of you. you gasp softly, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he starts off slow at first, basking in your warmth and tight walls. but soon, he’s fucking you. he slides his arm under your back and pulls your bottom half towards him, causing the angle to change. he hikes one of your legs up, allowing him to lean into you more and just hit that spot deep inside of you deliciously.

“mike,” you pant into his shoulder, holding yourself close to him. he makes your eyes flutter shut and roll back farther with each thrust. you pulsate around him with every whimper and moan that comes out of his mouth. you soon feel that familiar feeling bubble in your lower stomach.

mike rests his head against your cabinet, looking down and watching as he slides in and out of you. his grip on your sides tighten as he tries to focus on other things than you, but he can’t. you’re just too sexy. the way you’re moaning in his ear, chanting his name with each thrust. the way your nails begin to scrape against his shoulder blades. not to mention, you look amazing just sitting on the countertop. he can’t not think about you and the fact that he’s inside of you.

that’s all he needs to finish.

you wrap both legs around him as you come. your head leans back, your eyes screwing shut. he comes with you, stopping after a few slow thrusts. he slides out of you, chest heaving up and down. you squeeze your legs together and swear you can still feel him inside of you.

he ties the condom and throws it into your trash can. you have a big smile on your face when he turns to look at you. he can’t help but mirror it.

“how, uh, was that?” he asks, suddenly becoming bashful. “amazing,” you breathe out. “how did i do?” you ask teasingly.

“you were…. perfect.” his pupils are blown and you can’t tell where his iris starts. his words make your body feel even more warm. you jump off your counter and put your clothes back on, making a note to wipe off your counter with lysol soon.

“i should get back home to abby,” mike says. your smile falls, but you understand. “she probably misses you.”

“probably not,” he chuckles. “well, i know i will.” you take his hands into yours.

“you’ll see me soon,” he says, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

“i will,” you smile, starting to feel excited again. you walk him outside, leaning on the hood of his car. “i hope to do this again sometime,” you say.

“me, too. maybe sometime before work i can make you dinner?” he suggests.

you’re smiling so hard your cheeks are starting to hurt. “i would love that.”

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt smut #fnaf #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you

[the-guilty-writer]

The Faces of Emily Prentiss

Request from anon: Could I request Emily Prentiss & teen!daughter? Maybe Emily doesn’t notice how her daughter pulls back and keeps to herself more and more because she struggles with her mom being gone so much recently and school being a lot for her (procrastination, problems concentrating when worrying about her mom, …). You can do with this whatever you like Gill, I’m just excited to read more of yours 🥰

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader (can be read as teen!reader)

Summary: reader’s grades have been slipping and it brings up many feelings between them and Emily.

A/N: Okay, wow, I did not expect for this fic to come out this long. Maybe I should write more mom!Emily because apparently it’s inspiring. Kinda angsty with a fluffy-ish ending. There were no places to put in pronouns, so even though it’s daughter!reader it can be read as teen!reader.

CW: brief mention of psych evaluation, Emily is an absent mother, one mention that Emily wears weapons, nickname for reader is “kiddo” (if you think you know why let me know and I’ll give you a pat on the back for the right answer), reader has hair but length is not specified.

---

Manila, in your opinion, was the worst color. Not because of the color itself, but because of the things adorned with it - walls poorly painted by landlords, rags that should have been thrown out years ago, the hair of the snooty girls at school, the tug-of-war rope used in gym class that always burned your hands.

Folders.

If you could have tossed the one your teacher gave to you into the trash, you probably would have. I might as well, you thought to yourself. The thing was destined to get lost in the pile of similar ones on your mother’s desk. Would you rather go to a landfill, or sit with a bunch of cases on serial killers?

The folder, expectantly, didn’t respond. If it did, you would have been worried for your sanity. Then the next folder that landed on Emily Prentiss’s desk would have been a concerning psychiatric evaluation instead of your report card. At least with the evaluation she might have to pay a little more attention to you.

The door to your mother’s home office was always open. She locked you away from too many parts of her already - and even though she was well aware that some of the information in that room was supposed to stay classified - the idea of locking you out of a room that was in your own home, was too physical for her to bear. Not that she would ever tell you.

You knocked on the wood softly, though you didn’t know why. She wasn’t home. She was never home anymore; knocking was just a polite habit. You put your hand to the knob and swung open the door, then found yourself disappointed when she wasn’t asleep at her desk. Knocking wasn’t a polite habit; it was a hope that, for once, she would be there to answer. A hope that was far out of reach.

You put the report card folder on top of the stack, becoming just another document that had to be marked with the initials E.P. before it could be filed away.

In a house this big, the quiet should have been eerie, but it wasn’t. The quiet was normal. You sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out your phone, opening to your messages with your mom.

Badass Maman:

Hey, kiddo. Leaving for an emergency case. Be back soon. (Received 2 days ago)

You:

Okay. I love you. (Delivered 2 days ago)

Yep. Normal.

It was still that way an hour later when you did your homework, and when the nanny came to check on you. It was that way when you went to bed that night and woke up the next morning. Everything about it was normal.

You wished it wasn’t.

---

Phones weren’t allowed in classrooms, but they were allowed in the hallways. A familiar ding went off as you walked with your friend to second period math. Your friend pulled their phone from their pocket and frowned.

“Did something happen?” you asked.

They shook their head. “No notification.”

You pulled your phone out, and the world stopped entirely when you saw it was a message from your mom.

Badass Maman:

Flying home now. I’ll be back when you get home from school. I love you. (Received Now)

Relief flooded over you.

“Did something happen?” your friend asked.

“My mom is on her way home.” For the first time in days, you felt air could fill the entirety of your lungs. The million-mile-an-hour heart that was beating in your chest slowed to a regular pace. The tension in your too-tight shoulders loosened.

You:

Okay. I love you too. (Read Now)

---

You had all but forgotten about the manila folder holding your report card. It hadn’t crossed your mind since you placed it on your mother’s desk. You hadn’t bothered to look inside when you received it, too focused on the cursed cover to think about the letters inside.

When you unlocked the front door and stepped inside, you called out immediately for her. “Mom! I’m home!” but there was no answer. “Mom?”

It wasn’t unusual for her to fall asleep on the couch, waiting for you to get home from school after being sleep deprived for days. Still, the living room couch was void of any life. You turned to the kitchen, but found nobody there. So you made the walk to the only other place your mother might go in the house after a case: her office.

The door was half-way open, but still, you knocked. A polite habit.

She turned from her seat at her desk, took in the sight of you, and smiled. Within seconds you were wrapped in her arms. Your head landed on her shoulder, while she ran a gentle hand through your hair.

“God, I missed you, kiddo,” she said. The exhaustion in her voice contradicted the strength of her embrace.

“I missed you too, mom,” you whispered. She held you for a little longer than normal, and when she did let go, you couldn’t help but profile her a little.

There were three different faces Emily Prentiss wore:

The Agent Face: a raven-haired, modern fem fatale that runs off enough coffee to kill a small horse, she walks through bloody crime scenes unfazed. She’s a no-nonsense attitude dressed in heeled boots and a glock. With intelligence sharper than a blade and a smart-mouth to match, it’s only fitting that she works for one of the most elite units of the FBI.

The Emily Face: always classy with a little bit of fun sprinkled in. She’s got a wicked sense of humor, a brilliant laugh, and a bright smile to match. The kind of friend who is down for a night on the town or a quiet movie night. This, you know, is the face she wears outside of work, around her friends; you can only imagine what this face looked like before the agency, and before you.

The Mom Face: the one you see the most. It’s the face that can’t cook to save her life, though she tries very hard. The one that celebrates your ups and supports you in your downs. She’s started to find a few more gray hairs as you've grown older, but that’s to be expected from a strong woman raising a child alone. The only one of the faces that’s unsure about if she’s good enough; everything in you wants to tell her she is.

The face she wore right now, seemed to be a combination of all three. She hadn’t been home long enough to have changed from her work attire into a normal tee shirt and jeans. You could see the traces of mascara on her shoulder where either Penelope or JJ had needed a friend’s shoulder to cry on. The unsteadiness that crossed her expression only ever appeared when it came to parenting… when it came to you.

“There were kids, weren’t there?” you said. And though her past was full of secrets, she didn’t bother keeping this one in.

“There were,” she sighed. Once again, she brought her hand to your hair, as if she were trying to sooth herself with the texture of it while making sure that you were real. “But it’s over now.”

You didn’t know if that meant the case ended good or bad, and you were thankful that you weren’t a good enough profiler (yet) to read the answer in her expression. “I’m gonna finish up some work and then we can catch up, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go do my homework.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you gave her a tight-lipped smile before she moved back to her desk and you moved towards the door.

“Open or closed?” you asked her, standing in the threshold.

“You can leave it open,” she replied.

It was her answer every time, but you still always asked. A polite habit.

---

Two hours later, you were still struggling through your math homework at the kitchen table and your mom was still in her office. Knuckles tightened around your pencil before you let it go with an exasperated sigh and crumbled up the loose leaf paper you were working on. You sifted through your notes, trying to find the formula, but you had either written it down incorrectly or not at all.

You pulled the textbook from your bag only to find that you’d forgotten to write down what section the class was studying. With your brain feeling fried inside your head, it made skimming through the chapter more difficult, and by the time you’d gotten to the end, you were no closer to figuring out the answer than when you started.

Fueled by frustration, a trail of French expletives left your mouth.

“Well, I’m glad you’re at least keeping up with your language studies.” You looked up to see your mom standing on the threshold of the kitchen.

Even in duck-print pajama pants, she still looked intimidating, leaning on one hip with her arms crossed over her chest. As soon as you noticed her stance, she began walking towards you, uncrossing her arms. In one of her hands was a dreaded manila folder. With the ease that only a master interrogator could have, she sat down at the table and pushed the folder towards you, opening it so you could see the grades inside.

You were sure the many files on her desk showed far more hellish images than your grades, but it even caught you off-guard to see that you were failing or close to failing every class. It dawned on you suddenly that your grades had been slipping, but you didn’t imagine that they had gone down so fast.

“I-” you started, but the shock was flooding you. Emily took the folder and closed it, pulling it out of your line of sight and snapping you back to reality. Your genuine reaction must have been enough to tell her that you were as unaware of the situation as she was.

“Kiddo,” she sighed. “What happened?”

Her voice and features softened - The Concerned Mother Face. It wasn’t one that appeared a lot… just when big things happened, like moving to a new country or faking both your deaths. That kind of stuff.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. This year has been…” With a shaky breath everything rose to the surface. “It’s hard to do things when I’m never sure if you’re dead or alive.”

A new face of Emily Prentiss formed in front of your tear-filled eyes. This one was vastly different from the others. It was exhausted from sleepless nights in random police stations across the country, when all she wanted was to be home; it was pain-filled from every wound she wore on her body that she insisted she didn’t need help cleaning; and it was that of a mother who had just brought home a newborn, with no clue as to how she was supposed to raise an innocent being into a human.

She said no words, only embraced you. After the familiar comfort of her arms calmed you, you went to pull away. She didn’t let you go. A spot on your shoulder had become wet with her tears. You held her tighter, and when a sob racked through her weary body, you hummed the tune of the ballad she used to sing you as a little girl.

Only when she began to sing the words of the song, you knew it would be okay. Only then, you could be sure that Emily Prentiss - the smartest, strongest, bravest person you had ever known - wouldn’t fall apart if you let go.

In French just as smooth as her English, she began to whisper the rhyme. A dozen times you had wondered why that was the primary tongue she chose to raise you with. You were passable in Spanish and Arabic, but it was the language of love that your mother had wanted you to speak fluently.

That reason was good enough.

The song came to an end and she pulled away to look at you, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

You shook your head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, mom. You save people.”

Emily sighed. “But I can do better letting you know that I’m safe. I can at least find time to make sure to answer your texts.” You looked down, feeling the slightest bit guilty. But your mom wasn’t a profiler for nothing. “Don’t you do that,” she said sternly - The Agent Face.

“But-”

“No buts. It’s you and me. It’s always been you and me.” A sneaky smile escaped from her lips. “Plus I promised myself I wouldn’t be like your grandmother and put my job in front of my children.”

That had the both of you giggling - The Emily Face.

She pulled you back into her arms, stroking a gentle hand through your hair. “I love you, kiddo.” - The Mother Face.

“I love you too, mom.”

#emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x daughter!reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #emily prentiss x platonic!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds

[skepsiss]

Tooth and Nail -pt1- Steddie

You asked for it @strangersteddierthings it uhh...... hurts a lot at the end. Probably have to do a part 2... or more.

Uuhh, it's kinda sad guys. Prompt was to write something where Eddie is the one that is in denial about his queer-ness and Steve is the one who makes him question his sexual identity. Full request here.

14A ish rating. TW: Miscommunication, denial, mild homophobia, suggestion of past trauma (child abuse), use of drugs (weed), mild physical aggression, the f-slur (not spoken to anyone), self-hatred.

PT1 PT2 PT3

---

Eddie Munson was a freak. He’d been labeled as such since he was a little boy with a teen mom who ended up marrying the asshole who got her pregnant. He was a freak when his mother left and a freak when his father went to jail; how no boy who lived that kind of life was normal by any stretch of the word.

It only got worse from there as he got older. A freak for being poor, a freak for having long hair, being a nerd, a metalhead, trailer-trash, drop out–the list went on and on. Eddie had also gotten good at being a freak. He got good at wearing it like armor so people were scared of him instead of just judgemental. He wanted those insults said to his face, not whispered behind his back and no way in hell was he going to take it lying down. It didn’t make things easy, but it was how you coped.

So, why? Why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak? 

Eddie would fight tooth and nail for any freak or weirdo he managed to befriend. It didn’t matter if you were fat, ugly, smart, dorky, a boy or a girl. It didn’t matter what blend or flavour you happened to be–even if Eddie was partial to the nerds and musicians–you were family as soon as you walked into Hawkins High. Once you were a freak you stayed a freak and it came with Eddie Munson as a perk.

As long as he lived. As long as he was in Hawkins. 

It wasn’t surprising to Eddie when he found out Will Byers was gay. He had seen it on him as soon as the boy’s missing poster went up and the subsequent reunion happened. He had never really gotten to know Jonathan–he was a weirdo, but not one that apparently liked Eddie’s flavour–but he, much like the rest of Hawkins, had breathed a sigh of relief was Will was delivered home. It was under weird circumstances and Eddie didn’t know much about middle schoolers, but he knew a freak when he saw one. Will was a nerd and he was gay which meant he was premo-meat to be fried by the masses.

If they were in school, if Will came back to Hawkins and Eddie was there he would have fought for him. It didn’t matter if he was gay because freaks and weirdos stuck together no matter the flavour. So when he found out Robin was gay he felt much the same. He didn’t have anything against queer folk and honestly, he saw them as being in a similar boat as him. He’d embrace someone who was gay way before he’d embrace someone who was Christian–even though he was neither of those things. 

Eddie had no love for the church and apparently, all the ‘f-words’ were all damned to hell so they might as well make it a party. Seemed like all the interesting people were hell-bound. 

Their little collective. Family. A regular bunch of Addams. 

So, why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak?

Eddie had been called everything under the sun as far as insults went. He was no stranger to ’bigot’  or ’devil’, ’sinner’ or ’faggot’. You learned not to react or give them a reason to keep poking. You learned not to take it seriously or let it chink your armor. None of it had to be true and denying it wouldn’t help, you just learned to _ignore_ it and tell yourself that they didn’t know you and their insults didn’t mean anything. Surround yourself with people that either love you or respect you and you’re golden. Listen to them, take their opinions, be yourself, and embrace your flavour.

When Steve came out as queer though, Eddie had no clue what to do. The idea that he would claim that label was beyond Eddie’s understanding especially since he hadn’t seen that confession coming from Steve of all people. He was a weirdo by proxy but… No, the thing that really bothered Eddie about that was his reaction. When he found out Robin and Will were as gay as they came he had gone out of his way to make sure they knew he didn’t have a problem with it. He made sure they felt like they were family and if everyone else ditched Eddie wouldn’t. 

Tooth and nail. Tooth and nail. 

But when Steve came out? Eddie had been shocked, for one thing, and secondly, he had felt his stomach drop out. Panic had flooded him and he was thankful that he wasn’t the only one in the room when it was said.

He had put an arm around Will and jostled him affectionately. He had cracked a joke and smiled at Robin before privately telling her that if she needed anything he was there. He had felt those reactions so naturally almost as if Will and Robin were just telling them all what college they’d be going to. Cool, doesn’t change a thing. Let me know if you need any help with stuff. Easy. Steve though? Steve…

While everyone else in their casual setting seemed to be nodding or not making a fuss–most of them used to this kind of thing by now–Eddie sat there petrified. What did he say? What did he do? Steve wasn’t some kid Eddie could rib and force into an affectionate headlock. He wasn’t a chick he could pretend to posture for so she felt like he had her back. He was… Steve.

Eddie had left that night feeling out of sorts. He hadn’t spoken to Steve and his subdued interaction was pointed out by anyone, but Eddie hadn’t left their little gathering feeling subdued at all. Outwardly maybe, but internally his mind had been locked in place over Steve saying I think I’m bisexual.

Okay… so what? Same as anyone else, right? Queer, whatever–certified freak, cool–so why was he twisted up about it?

Eddie had been spending a lot of time with Steve over the last few months and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he actually liked his company. Steve was sarcastic and charming and a little bit of a bitch but it just made joking around with him easier. Once they had bridged the gap between ‘nerd shit’ and ‘jock shit’ it became easy to spend time with Steve. Eddie had watched Steve relax around him which literally looked like his body relaxing. You wouldn’t know it right away, but Steve was tense when he wasn’t comfortable around you: arms crossed, brows pinched, shoulders tight, jaw locked, and stance controlled. All of that fell away once he settled down and it was easy to be around him then. Eddie had actually enjoyed seeing the process of Steve relaxing around him as they played the NES with Dustin or sat outside and shared a joint without the rest of the goodies-goodies knowing.

He enjoyed Steve’s company, so what was he worried about? Was he scared Steve would come onto him? That was presumptuous of him and probably rude. He wasn’t scared of Will getting a crush on him or any other obviously gay guy he had seen at shows and bars. He’d even turned guys down which always seemed to embarrass them a bit and Eddie hated that he saw a flash of fear in their eyes when he told them he was straight. He always made sure to end the conversation with It’s cool, man. Don’t worry about it and then smile to show he meant no harm.

He liked queer folk. They were family. Why was Steve different? 

Eddie’s brain was stuck in fast-forward all night once he got home. He hated it when his brain did that to him. Every image flashed through his brain at supersonic speed and he couldn’t focus on anything. It was exhausting and frustrating and it literally felt like his mind was racing. The only thing that helped was imagining the sprawling darkness of space and slowly… very slowly… adding little pinpricks of light to the image. He had to force himself to slow down and from the outside, he knew it looked like he wasn’t doing anything. It looked like he was being lazy, but in reality, all the energy he usually exuded had just become internalized. 

He’d tell Steve it was fine. He’d made sure Steve knew he always had his support. That was what he was supposed to do. That was what he did for everyone else.

But when it happened–when he got his chance to have an aside with Steve–his gut had pulled and his tongue had gotten caught between his teeth. It happened the second time he tried too, and the third, and the fourth–each time he tried to talk to Steve one-on-one he clammed up. It was maddening really and Eddie had started to notice that Steve was suspicious of him–and not in a good way. 

The fifth time was different. The fifth time was worse. 

They had all been celebrating Max’s return home and as the kids got loud and the sun set it felt like one of those nights where Eddie just didn’t have the energy to be around this many people. He loved socializing–he loved the party–but sometimes it just became too much he could feel his mind drifting away from the scene.

Eddie had started his drift before looking up and catching Steve’s eye across the room. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and as he flicked his gaze up he slowly raised his hand to his mouth and mimed smoking. It didn’t take a genius to know what that meant and Eddie raised his brow in agreement before slinking away.

“I don’t have any on me,” Eddie explained as they stepped out into the dark, “but I’ve got some at home.”

His trailer was only a stone’s throw away from Max’s place so it wasn’t really a big deal. Weed sounded like a good idea too; he could smoke and bring him back to earth and maybe it would settle his nerves enough to properly talk to Steve. He _wanted_ to talk to Steve.

“We going to smoke here?” Steve asked as he followed Eddie inside the trailer. Wayne was out and Eddie didn’t have any qualms about Steve coming over to his place.

“Sure, might as well so the impressionable young children,” Eddie mocked, using a stuffy, posh voice, “don’t get tempted by our bad influence.”

He snickered as he touched his own chest, extending his hand skyward and acting as if he were delivering a Shakespearean speech. 

“Ms. Languard, is that you?” Steve mocked back, shoving Eddie’s shoulder so he’d continue his walk towards his bedroom. 

Eddie laughed again and stumbled down the hall, glad that they could at least joke around with each other still. Yeah, he’d smoke and then he’d properly let Steve know that being queer was cool with him and that they were blood-bonded for life already having survived a demonic war together. Steve would call him dramatic and they’d laugh over it and then things could go back to normal. 

Eddie had found one of his baggies of weed after tossing the laundry on his floor about the room for a few minutes before finally getting his stuff together so he could roll them a joint. The buds had been bitter and Eddie had jokingly apologized before hanging the blunt over to Steve to smoke. He had coughed and gagged at the flavour and Eddie had called him a pussy in good humour. Normal. They were acting normal.  

As the weed seeped in they got quieter though and Eddie felt himself drifting again as he sat on the foot of his bed. Steve was standing by the window so he could blow the smoke outside even though Eddie didn’t care about the smell. It was polite and Eddie could appreciate that at least.

“You okay?” Steve asked as Eddie caught himself staring blankly at the ground, knees tucked up to his chest.

“Oh–yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just thinking,” he admitted, blinking hard and then smiling at Steve. They shared a chuckle and Steve took a step forward to hand the joint over.

“Thinking about anything interesting?” He asked, carefully turning the blunt in his fingers so Eddie could grab it.

“Yeah, I guess so…” Eddie mumbled, taking a moment before finally putting his feet back on the floor and taking the smoke from Steve.

“You gunna share with the class?” Steve asked and Eddie giggled again at that, the joke was not that funny but the weed was getting to him.

It took another moment as Eddie smoked, his attention drifting a bit before he finally answered.

“I was thinking about what you said the other week,” Eddie admitted, trying to let the hold his anxieties had on him fade away. He could just let those fears slip through his fingers and he’d finally be able to say what he had been meaning to say for weeks now. Weed was good for that.

“The other week…” Eddie continued, and he stood slowly to pass the joint. Steve was staring at him with bemusement and confusion, obviously trying to follow along with what Eddie was saying. Eddie could feel that blanket of anxiety that had been wrapped around him slowly lifting. He didn’t have to think about anything, just say what he meant to say and then they’d be back to normal. 

“The other week when you uh, when you told everyone you were gay,” Eddie explained, nodding which got a pinched expression from Steve.

“Bisexual–bi,” he corrected, taking the blunt from Eddie and smoking it.

“Yeah, that,” Eddie answered, “it got me thinking about stuff…”

Eddie could feel himself getting distracted as his mind lost its grasp on the words he had been trying to deliver. He understood what he wanted to say–in sentiment–but he was having a hard time forming the words to go along with it. His attention kept on bending and then refocusing on other things that weren’t important. How his hair was tickling his ears a bit, and how bitter the weed tasted on the back of his tongue, and then to his room and how it was probably embarrassing to have Steve here when it was such a mess–he had to refocus on Steve.

“Uh, you, Steve,” Eddie tried, lifting his hand and poking Steve hard in the chest. He just had to drift his brain over to thinking about Steve.

“Yeah… me?” Steve replied, breathing a small laugh.

Eddie smiled, wondering for a moment if he was acting silly and if he was amusing Steve. He liked it when they joked and he had been missing that the last few days. He missed spending time with Steve. He wanted to tell him he accepted him. He wanted to tell Steve he’d always be there. He wanted to put him in a headlock, rib him, posture a little… see him relax… He wanted to see Steve’s posture change, his brows soften, and his mouth unpinch. And then everything would be normal. How they’d just go back to being freaks together.

Yeah, no more anxieties about all this, it was just Steve. It was just Steve.

“Eddie?” Steve asked and Eddie only vaguely registered that he was touching Steve’s face. He looked confused, but he was smiling, and all Eddie could think about was how beautiful his smile was. 

The next thing Eddie knew he was stepping forward as if in a slow dance and pushing Steve back towards the wall he had been leaning on. Steve didn’t fight him, but Eddie didn’t have the presence of mind to question what that meant. He was just moving them across the room so he could press flush against Steve and kiss him. The action had been so gentle Eddie had felt like he was dreaming through the whole thing like it wasn’t really him doing it. Steve shuttered under him and Eddie pulled back just far enough so he could see Steve’s expression. His eyes were closed and his brows were pinched together as if something painful had just happened.

They had kissed and Steve was in pain? They had kissed, why would Steve be in pain? They had kissed.

Eddie let go abruptly and stumbled backward as his anxieties plowed back into him.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, sticking his hands up in front of himself.

Steve didn’t move from the wall and as he opened his eyes slowly and a pang of guilt shot through Eddie. He stumbled back again as his knees hit the edge of the bed forcing him to sit down.

“Sorry, sorry–” Eddie offered, laughing now as his fear bubbled up. Why the hell had he done that? What the fuck was he doing?

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean anything by it, I uh, was just curious.”

That was the reason, right? There probably wasn’t another reason that made sense. He had been high and his brain had just filtered through the possibilities and for some reason, it had settled on a kiss. Fucking weird, but he had never claimed to be normal.

“Curious?” Steve said back slowly as he came out of what seemed like a daze, “you were… curious?”

Eddie felt his throat getting tight and he was desperately trying to swallow the lump that was forming there.

“I was just joking around,” he offered a weak smile and Steve just stared at him. Eddie watched as his expression changed from dazzled confusion to anger. 

“What the fuck, man?” Steve bit out sounding insulted. He didn’t sound as angry as Eddie thought, but he did sound upset.

“Sorry, I dunno man, I’m high,” Eddie blurted, speaking to the first excuse that came to mind.

Steve just stared at him before shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration looked like it was building and that in turn was making Eddie shrink back.

“You’re unbelievable…” Steve muttered to himself, as he slowly turned to face his back to Eddie, his hands going to his hip, “unbelievable… what the fuck?”

“Sorry–” Eddie tried once more getting cut off this time as Steve snapped at him.

“Stop apologizing, okay?” He said slicing the air with his hand before settling back down and putting his hand back on his waist.

Eddie shut up and stared as he watched Steve’s shoulder bunch and his posture shift from relaxed to tense.

“Joking around… joking around?” Steve asked, his tone accusatory even though it was level. Eddie just gaped at him, not sure what to say if he wasn’t supposed to apologize anymore. The question seemed like it had been rhetorical anyway.

Eddie watched as Steve touched his own lips, squeezing them sharply as if he were thinking and trying to pull the sensation away from his mouth at the same time. 

“So, you were just curious to know–what? What it’s like to kiss a guy? To know if you like guys?” He asked, turning to look at Eddie again but not changing his posture at all.

“I don’t like guys, I’m straight,” Eddie said sharply, his stomach tightening, “I was just…”

Steve’s lip started to curl and Eddie shrunk back further, feeling guilty and embarrassed and ashamed in a way he didn’t know how to communicate. In a way he didn’t want to communicate.

“Just… joking around?” Steve repeated back, his dipping so his delivery lacked emotion. That had stung. That hurt more than Eddie thought it would.

Steve shook his head and raised the joint back to his lips to take a hit. 

“Yeah, real funny,” he started to say as he tossed the blunt at Eddie, “a regular riot. Just kiss your buddy Steve. It’s soooo fucking funny that he likes guys.”

Eddie could see that Steve’s cheeks were flushing as his voice hitched slightly. He was keeping it together but his expression was that of a man who had just been betrayed. He looked hurt. It looked like he had just bore his soul and Eddie had laughed in his face. Like he had been cruel for no other reason than to hurt him.

“Steve–” Eddie started, standing up, not sure what to do.

“You’re sorry, I get it,” Steve replied, stepping towards the door and starting to walk away.

“I didn’t mean it like that–” Eddie tried, hurrying after him and grabbing Steve’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. Steve tried to brush him off, but Eddie was determined to hold on.

Steve moved quickly then and it caught Eddie off guard as he grabbed his wrist and whipped around. Steve shoved hard and Eddie stumbled backward until he hit the wall, Steve’s forearm across his chest.

“Don’t–” Steve bit out, sticking his finger aggressively in Eddie’s face, “--fucking touch me.”

His tone was incredibly level but it was obvious that he was holding back real anger. It was easy to forget sometimes that Steve was an athlete. That he could run circles around everyone in the crew and was easily the strongest amongst them under the age of twenty-five. He had survived Russian torture and Eddie had witnessed him using that strength to help the party. Steve was resilient and he was strong… even if he rarely threw a punch. 

Eddie was too shocked to react properly and before he knew it Steve had let go of him and stormed out of the trailer. Fear rang Eddie like a bell as he stood there and listened as a car engine turned on and the sound of tires of gravel filtered through the open screendoor. He was shaking, he was sure, his body reacting to old memories and mortified by what had just transpired.

“Fuck…” Eddie mumbled, his throat tight and his lips feeling as if they were glued together.

“Fuck–” he repeated, heaving as he raised his hands to his face and pressed his wrists into his eyes.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouted feeling the tears build as he let his knees buckle under him. He slid down the wall and crumpled, hands still pressed into his eyes as he started to sob openly. He was soothing the memories of that scared child but he was also mourning Steve. It felt bad. Everything felt bad.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eddie muttered to himself through his tears, his voice thick with phlegm, “what the fuck was that? Why did you do that? You fucking… asshole!”

He was bullying himself, he knew it, but he couldn’t help how upset he was. He was mad at himself for doing something unbelievably stupid and he was frustrated that he was reacting this way to it. But he couldn’t help that it felt like his heart was about to give out as he gasped in breath and his stomach filled with air. He was practically gulping as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. It was like he was a little kid again. But that wasn’t fair–he didn’t get to act this way. He had been the one that had hurt Steve.

“Fuck,” he gagged, leaning over the sink and turning the tap on. A morbid part of him needed to look and see the fear and sorrow on his face so he looked up at the mirror and cringed at his own appearance. His face was red and tears wouldn’t stop flowing from his eyes. His upper lip had gathered snot and his mouth was turned grotesquely into an open frown.

“Stop it,” he swallowed, gritting his teeth as he stared at himself, “you don’t get to do that.”

Eddie gulped in another breath and stood up straight. He closed his eyes and forced his frustration inwards, forcing himself to just get over it.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he mumbled, breathing out slowly as he tried to calm down, “stop it!” He flipped the switch from upset into anger, tears still running down his face but no longer hyperventilating.

“What the fuck was that?” he repeated, dropping his gaze to look at himself in the mirror again, “you–you… you fucking creep. Asshole. What the hell? You’re fucking straight. How the hell are you going to fix this, asshole? Why would you give yourself another reason to be labeled a freak?”

The words stung and Eddie swallowed hard, looking away from the mirror finally. He was calming down even if he didn’t feel better, pushing those emotions inside to deal with later. It was too raw right now, it was too much, he couldn’t do this right now.

Eddie let out a breath through gritted teeth and then moved back to the sink. He turned the water on full blast and then started yanking his rings off. He didn’t care where they fell, but once his hands were bare he cupped them under the water and splashed the cold liquid into his face. He gasped at the sensation and did it again, did it until he had washed all the snot and tears from his face, and then turned the faucet off.

Eddie hung his head over the sink for a long moment, breathing through his mouth as the water streamed off his face. He settled slowly and sucked in one last hard breath and then dried his face off.

“Fucking hell man…” Eddie said quietly, sounding more exasperated than anything now. 

He frowned deeply as he walked back into his bedroom. The joint they had been smoking was on the floor at the foot of his bed and it had started to singe a hole into the carpet. Eddie tisked and picked it up before stamping on the burn mark a few times to make sure it didn’t spread.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

Pt2

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #BIG SAD VIBES #I do not endorse the way Eddie deals with his emotions at all #I do not endorse Steve getting kind of physical with Eddie #I get it and I know why both of them do that but it's still bad #understandable but bad #ANYWAAAYYYYSSSSSS ask me to write things

[iamfuckingsorry]

Thinking about that mural from DE

You know which one

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD, FOR THE NEW PEOPLE. IT IS TOO LATE FOR US. WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

The next world mural. In the game, you encounter this piece very early on if you interact with everything available, you probably see this mural before you've ever even heard of Dora or before you've started to get really serious about your commie tendencies, if that's how you choose to play. And the reaction is like, "wow, this is kinda profound actually". Or maybe it's like, "oh lol, this game really is commie af isn't it" (even though later on it turns out that the game is much more critical of communism than you'd think at first). And the story in the ledger provides some insight into Harry and Jean and how they work together too, so it feels like it makes sense, it fits in very well at that moment in the game and that's it.

But looking back at this mural after you've played through the entire game, knowing what you know of Harry's relationship with Dora...

It's Harry's own fucking love story in a way, isn't it?

Him and Dora came from very different backgrounds. He's genuinely poor, grew up checking the trash cans on the streets for tare and edible food, spent his teenage years running around with a bunch of kids who all OD'd or got themselves killed one way or another over the years. He had dreams of getting an education, getting a chance to use his creativity and curiosity and learn about all that that is worth exploring in this world (which is everything), but those dreams are long dead. She's solidly middle class, with access to all the education and art and music he's always dreamt of, with her family to always fall back on. She's everything Harry's ever dreamt of growing up. She might as well be living in another world.

They fall in love with each other and she moves to Jamrock to live with him. Jamrock, the biggest fucking ghetto in Revachol, full of tweakers and gangsters and just thousands upon thousands of poor people permanently down on their luck trying to get by, with no proper aid or government and a police station so understaffed and underfunded they never even stood a chance. And they can barely make ends meet even living in Jamrock, moving from shithole to shithole, never knowing when they'll have their electricity cut, when something will happen that gets them thrown out, desperately scrambling for a new place to stay. And Dora could never do that, not really - she never actually lived in Jamrock, she always had the possibility of leaving, of going to work across the river and visiting her parents whenever she felt like it or just escaping, packing her shit and getting on the tram and never going back. And as long as she knew she wasn't really, truly stuck in this miserable shithole forever, she wasn't ever really living in Jamrock. And it could never be enough for her.

And she wanted more - for herself, for Harry, for their family, who even knows. Maybe she saw Harry struggling trying and failing to make a difference as a gym teacher and thought he could do more good with the RCM. Maybe she was getting desperate, living in this fucking shithole, and thought they needed more money. Maybe it was something completely else - but what is certain is that Harry ended up joining the RCM, and the 41st, and everyone there is on speed, everyone is miserable and desperate and always running behind playing catch up with the case load, with the crimes, with the drug addicts and rapists and murderers, and Harry, who's always been like this close to a genuine mental breakdown, just fucking falls apart. He needs to help people, needs to make a difference, and working at the 41st, with the budget and case load and staffing situation and the pure fucking misery in the area. He goes out and meets a miserable person after a miserable person and he can't do anything else than be nice, make their day a little bit more manageable, do his best- but he knows that no matter what he does, his best won't be enough. He won't be able to make a dent in the pure fucking misery that is Jamrock. But he needs to, so he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he loses any semblance of control he ever had over the voices in his head, the dude telling him to hit shit and the dude telling him to forget everything and just get fucked up and Revachol herself screaming at him about her imminent death. And in the end Dora can't stand it anymore and she leaves (and, honestly, good for her. I'm happy for her. But this is about Harry, and Harry isn't, he isn't able to be happy for her at this point in time).

And like. I personally doubt that she'd have left just because of the money if everything else was good. I honestly even doubt that the money was that big of an issue for her to start with, it was all the other issues first and then the fact that they couldn't even rent a fucking VHS and play it at times became just one more thing on top of this already massive pile of shit that broke the proverbial camel's back. But in Harry's mind, he was never rich enough for her. She was always the middle class girl who settled for the poor fuck, and he was never gonna be good enough for her because he was just a broke dude from Jamrock. She was perfect and so so beautiful and at one point her love was the only thing keeping him going, and then she left because he couldn't even

And from what we can see in the game she was the only person he's ever really, truly loved.

But in his mind, they could never be together again. They could try as they might, but it was never gonna work out, because she was a rich girl and he was just a poor miserable fuck. He grew up looking for change on the streets, she took piano lessons in a fancy part of town. The difference was just too large to ever truly be bridged.

So for post-breakup Harry, prior to Martinaise and even during the events in Martinaise, true love was never actually possible. It is possible only for the new people, in the next world. It was too late for him - he had his chance, and it was an impossible thing, it could never have worked out and now he's wasted it. Because of the inherent differences between different social classes. It is too late for him. So yeah, fuck it, wreak havoc on the fucking middle class. Fuck those rich bastards who took Dora from him, and fuck Dora too.

On another note, this was also one of the most recent cases him and Jean worked on prior to Martinaise. I don't remember the date exactly, but it was in his last ledger, it must have been pretty recent. Do you think he saw the mural and thought about it the same way I did? Maybe this was the one that truly pushed him over the edge? The impossible love. It truly was too late for him. The only way to fix it is a new fucking start. And how do you get that?

After life - death. After death - life again.

#disco elysium #harry du bois #harrier du bois #dora ingerlund #DE #herr's personal tag #next world mural #when first playing the game I didn't even really stop to think about the middle class line #the love part of the mural honestly felt very powerful to me #and I opened the compartment and read the letter right afterwards #so i had a lot to think about in addition to just this #anyway #this is more of a “what if” rant than any actual metaanalysis #our story about Dora is extremely influenced by Harry's point of view #but at the same time #every design decision in this game is deliberate #or most of them anyway #is this something the game designers were actually thinking of when designing the mural? #was that an intentional decision on their side? #or is it just me reading too much into random shit while missing important details elsewhere again? #who knows #midnight rant

[risuola]

BIRTHDAY GIFT — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Sometimes you forget about your own birthday, but no worries, Satoru's got you. He always remember, and he even prepared a very special gift for you.

cw: fluff, no warnings — 2,8k words

a/n: i turned 28 this week, so here i am indulging myself with a fictional party, because i hate real parties. also i'm not sure if the picture in the middle is an official art or the fan art, i claim no rights to it 🩶

“Thanks Kento,” you addressed the blonde, when you got out of the bathroom in his house. “You’re saving my life.”

“No need to thank me,” he responded with the ghost of a smile on his face, and you checked yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, but other than that, thankfully normal, which wasn’t the case just half an hour ago, when you finished your job in the field.

It was a simple mission – get to the place, exorcise a bunch of curses, nothing out of ordinary and nothing especially difficult to do. Quite the opposite, it went smoothly – it took you three hours to hunt down every single one of the little curses, but their grades were low. One thing you were not told before taking the assignment though, was that those curses had a tendency to ugly explode with purple and green goo as they were exorcised. That’s why, when the job was done, you were covered from head to toe in those slimy curse gut-residuals. It was on your clothes, hands, in your hair and you could have sworn it was in your mouth too. You could feel it, smell it, taste it and damn was it disgusting. Hence why you called Nanami on your way back and thankfully found him at home. His apartment was so near, compared to the way you had to reach Jujutsu high and being the sweetheart that he is, he agreed for you to take a shower at his place and even gave you one of his dress shirts to wear, because your clothes were good for nothing but a trash bag. It was way too big, but with a belt it made for a pretty cute dress actually.

Once you were ready to leave, he got up as well.

“I have a thing to check in school so Ijichi will drive us both,” he explained and you gave it a nod and after that, you two went down to get a ride.

“How are you?”, you asked your friend, while you two were comfortably seated in the back of a car. It’s been a while since you last saw Nanami. “I didn’t even ask.”

“I’m good, thanks y/n,” he once again, gave you the slightest one of his smiles and exhaled deeply. “You’re tired, huh?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Guess I didn’t sleep well today, it’s all good.” You shrugged it off, looking at the driver. “And you, Ijichi? Satoru’s not bothering you too much?”

“I-I’m fine and no, he’s n-not,” the man stuttered, sweat beads forming on his forehead as he spoke and you chuckled. That poor man was constantly being terrorized by the strongest sorcerer for god knows why.

“So, he is bothering you,” you chuckled and Ijichi laughed nervously, wiping his forehead with a tissue. “You don’t have to be so scared of him, he just likes to assert his dominance but he wouldn’t hurt you. Is he bothering you as well, Nanami?”

“Gojo is always bothering me,” the blonde sighed. “It always amazes me how fondly you speak of him. You really seem to like Satoru.”

“Oh, he’s really not that bad,” a smile spread over your face as you thought about Satoru. “He’s quite charming, actually.”

Truth is, you and Satoru are closer than any of you might wanna admit. You’re co-workers, that’s for sure. Friends, also, you know each other since high school and you kept in touch ever since. You probably know the man more than he knows himself. You’ve also been on few dates. Unofficial dates, of course, more like you just went to the same place, at the same time, just the two of you, and sat at the same table or bench, and talked for hours as you were brushing circles onto the skin of his hands or he was just keeping yours in his palms. Those kinds of dates. Nothing serious.

“As charming as a clown can be, I guess,” Nanami shrugged softly and you giggled. “But you two should get together, it’s only you who he seems to not enjoy annoying.”

“Commitment in our profession doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

The rest of the drive went in calm, you talked with the two in the car about sweet little nothings, sharing meaningless details about your days and maybe Ijichi seemed a little more stressed than usual, but you didn’t notice anything too weird to think about it. That’s why when you pulled off to the school and got to the main building, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sudden and incredibly loud ‘surprise!’ being thrown at your face.

“Huh?”, it stunned you to the point of disorientation. Why were all of your students and most of the older sorcerers that you know here? Why all the balloons, confetti and the cake?

“It’s your birthday, dummy,” you quickly were swept by the long arm of no one else but Satoru Gojo, who greeted you with a grin wide and bright and a light squeeze on your shoulder. The gesture was friendly, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that exploded in your chest the moment he touched you.

“My birthday?” Oh yes, your birthday. “God, I forgot about it.”

“I figured, buuuut we didn’t so I hope you have a little bit more power in your batteries to celebrate?”, Satoru led you more into the crowded space and with real surprise you noticed that even Yuuta was here, and students from Kyoto along with Utahime. No Gakuganji though, thanks to the heavens.

It was all surreal but at the same time so grounding to be surrounded by so many people that you find close to your heart. And for the next hours, you forgot about how tired your body was, how disgusting you were earlier that day and how perfectly Nanami acted like he has a real job in the school rather than the party to attend.

You stayed there until very late, enjoying every second of talks and laughs with your friends and students. You caught up with all of them, learned about the progress the teenagers were making, got to know more about how work was for the older sorcerers and even, when outside for a quick fresh air breath, one of the little, flying curses gave you a card with few wishes written in it, with no sign whatsoever, but it was the handwriting that gave it away. Suguru Geto. Even though he went a very different path than the rest of you, even though you all lost contact with him the moment he left around the second year, he had never, not even once, forgotten about your birthday, always delivering a card or something else one way or another. It warmed your heart and sometimes you wished to see him just for a moment to give him one last bear hug. You couldn’t, but the card will go to the box of things you cherish, along with the round, dark shades that no one could see through – the ones that Gojo was wearing while in high school; with Shoko’s first scalpel that she used to practice – the very cheap one that got blunt after just few uses; with one button from Haibara’s uniform – the only one that was left hanging by a thread, when he got back to school one last time and along with many other things you’ll hold onto until the day you die.

“Tired?”, Satoru asked you, when the clock hands moved past 1am. Most of the students were already gone and teachers also began to crumble down, calling it a night.

“Exhausted,” you chuckled softly and squeezed the hand he offered you, helping you get up from the couch.

“Let’s get you to bed, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

With all of the goodbyes done, you gathered your gifts and left with Satoru, heading towards your little apartment. All the way he was keeping your hand in his, grinning like he usually does, but something felt off in the way his fingers were wrapped around you. A little tighter than always, little more possessive – a little more like he was afraid to let go of you even though that would be an irrational fear, because you never wanted anything more than to be held by him.

“Soo,” he began, when you both stepped into your place and you put down all of the bags, “I hope you don’t think I forgot about your gift. Though it’s technically not your birthday anymore.”

“Oh, Satoru, you know I don’t care about the gifts, right?” you smiled at him. “All of this, the party, the people, is more than I could wish for. Every second spent with all of you is worth more than any gift I could receive.”

“Yea, yea,” he waved a hand at you, making you laugh. He made you feel all kinds of weird things, one of which being the urge to slap and kiss him at the same time. “I actually have two gifts for you.”

“Of course you have,” a shake of your head was all you could offer him. Of course, Satoru Gojo had to be extra like that. “So?”

“Sooo, that’s the first one.” You didn’t even question the way he pulled the light-blue bag with a matching ribbon on top of it from behind his back, like he had it all of the time, which you know he didn’t. You took it anyway and before you even peeked inside, you reached up to him and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, whispering little ‘thank you’. “You’re welcome, now, you can check it later,” almost immediately after the bag landed in your hands, it was snatched away and put down where the other gifts were. “The second gift-“

You looked at him with confusion, realizing that Satoru was… nervous? He was bouncing slightly on his feet, as if he was hyping himself up. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand through his hair.

“Yea?”, you encouraged him to continue, taking him by the hands in hopes to calm him down a little. “What is it? Satoru, don’t tell me you bought me a snow tiger or something?”

“Huh? No, I didn’t. What, you want a snow tiger? You said they are cute, but-“

“No, absolutely not. No snow tigers, please.”

“Ok, wow, I’m more nervous than I was… ever, probably, that’s new,” he laughed at his own composure, or rather the lack of thereof, and now you really began to worry. What the hell did this man did?

“Just say it, I can take it.”

Pulling him by the hands, you took him onto the sofa, now slightly worrying he might really pass out. Doors to your apartment stayed open wide, but that was the least of your worries, when you two sat down and all your eyes could fix on was a man next to you. He looked stunning in his dark grey sweater that exposed a little bit of his collar bones and his long neck, contrasting with his pale skin, light hair and really making his eyes pop. The eyes that made it so easy to get lost. They were like an ocean under the clear sky and bright sunlight, illuminating with thousands of glittering sparkles and the shades of azure and turquoise mixed and flew one into another, intertwining and creating an artwork impossible to recreate. If someone were to animate Satoru, the whole budget would probably go into his eyes alone.

“So, first you need to know that if what I want to give you is not something you feel comfortable accepting, please don’t feel obliged to and just say no. Okay?”, he spoke again and you nodded.

“Come on, Satoru. Just tell me. Or show me, whatever it is.”

“Show you. Alright, I can do that.”

You expected everything. Your mind even wandered into absurd such as him giving you an airplane for god knows what reason, but even in your boldest, bravest dreams you didn’t anticipate his lips on yours. He went all slow and soft about it, closing the distance carefully, leaving you with more than enough time to react and push him away if you wanted to, and when he finally reached you, planting a gentle kiss to your mouth, whilst his hand rested on the side of your neck a little stiffly, you froze for a second. Your body froze, but your heart was racing inside your chest, beating so hard he probably could hear it and feel it in your pulse underneath his palm. Satoru’s lips felt as soft as they looked, so perfect against yours even though what was happening wasn’t even resembling a kiss. It was more like a press with the slightest movement applied but it spoke so much. It was an offer – that way Gojo opened himself to you, ripped his own chest apart and with that simple peck on the lips, he wanted to tell you that now, he’s ready to be vulnerable with you, if you’d only want him to.

“Is my second gift a kiss from you?”, you questioned when he moved his head back just a little, searching for your reaction. It would be on brand for Gojo to consider a kiss from himself a valuable gift, which it was, but if that’s what he wanted to offer you, he had to put more effort into it.

“It’s me. If you’ll have me,” he almost whispered, smoothing over your jawline with his thumb. “Maybe it’s not the best idea to commit to relationship in our line of work, but fuck this. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Never been more serious.”

Your heart fluttered. Grabbing his face in both of your hands, you went in and kissed him, pouring into it all of the love you held for him and he purred softly against your lips, wrapping his long arms around you and leaning more against you. He outweighed you; you lost your balance and fell back onto the couch and he followed you closely, breaking the kiss just to ask, “is that a yes?”

“Yes, Satoru. Very much yes,” you chuckled and his lips were back on yours, taking your breath away with how good it felt. Your fingers found a way through his silky, snowy white strands, you smoothed over the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, giving into the sensation that radiated throughout your entire nervous system, sending hot waves of pure euphoria down your spine and into every cell in your body. You were happy, the exhaustion now completely forgotten and only the man above you mattered. His weight felt so right on top of you, even in the insanely uncomfortable position you two were now trapped in with your hips twisted below his torso and him now half in the air and half on the couch because there was no way for his height to fit in here. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was his lips on yours, his warmth on your skin and-

“Doors,” you mumbled into the kiss, the gentle whiff of cold air reminded you of what has been forgotten. The doors, that were still wide open. He could feel your chest rumbling with a chuckle as you realized none of you cared enough to even close your apartment when you went in and he made a decision to ignore this fact, now completely consumed by the thought of you. He hummed something and moved his lips lower, smearing kisses all over your chin and down your neck and you tugged softly onto his hair. “Satoru, doors are still opened-”

Getting up, walking towards the entrance and locking the doors would be the logical thing to do, but the thought of parting his own body from yours for even a second now didn’t dare to cross Gojo’s mind, so he stretched his hand towards the doors, consumed by sucking a red spot to the side of your neck and you couldn’t believe it, but he blasted the door with a cursed energy. They shut with the loudest noise anyone could create at that hour in the middle of the night and not ten seconds passed, before they just fell out of frame and hit the floor with another harsh thud.

That seemed to do the trick in stopping the heat, because both of you froze for a moment and you looked to the side, he looked to the side and the world stopped for a whole five second, before you started laughing and playfully patting his shoulder.

“What have you done,” you whined. “Satoruu~”

“I’ll fix this,” he swore, hiding his face back into the crook of your neck, pretending like he wasn’t even there and you couldn’t help but brush through his hair as laughter still had the better of you. “Guess I’ll have to stay the night so you can be safe.”

“Guess that might be necessary.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo imagines #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru fluff #satoru fluff

[hanrinz]

𖥦 ٭࣭ 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗔𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 !

includes: deku, bakugou, shoto, hawks, dabi & shigaraki

content warning: attempted crack, is based on what happened irl, chaotic! can be platonic/romantic! i have favoritism and it's very obv here

rosie's notes: bnha men but this time sum of this happened irl ?!? our school is holding a sports event & that gave me an inspiration to write smth ! and happy 100+ followers to me🫶 thank you everyone!!

꒰ 𝐃𝐄𝐊𝐔 ꒱

you know those nerds who would ramble on and on about their interests? yeah, that's him. although, this is already a given thought about him, i just know he is an all might defender! slandering all might is a big no, he would pull out all the reasons why all might is so amazing and therefore you have no reason to say such malicious things to the former no. 1 hero.

he would definitely be that classmate who's popular because he edit vids so well?!? his account is full of all might edits😟 it's very concerning.

he would let you copy his notes!! though it's not very readable.. overall he's a nice classmate to have!

꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 ꒱

definitely, the vice president who shouts at their classmates that are noisy, but also noisy himself. he definitely knows all the tea in the classroom! he says he hates drama but keeps receipt of every rumour and hush secrets.

the leader! he might be harsh at it, but at least it gets the work done. he's strict too! if you give him your work it must be perfect, well-written and up to his standard! he doesn't half-assed things, if you can't match up with that, it's better to work alone😞

꒰ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 ꒱

the quiet guy who always has a handkerchief over his mouth, would talk occasionally. he's the one who would have a bunch of supplies! mans is built like national book store😤

need a marker? he got a box of those, in different colors too! don't have any paper? you can ask one from him! forgot your pens at home? he got your back!! he's that type of guy you would always want to be group mates with, he's just smart and participates very well!

꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒 ꒱

the teacher's pet, (pun not intended) he would always get straight A's, would always help the teacher with their things whenever they leave the classroom. he would also be the one to remind the teacher about the assignment that y'all agreed not to mention.

the students from other schools come to see him in every event your school holds !! you will always see him with different ppl taking pictures with him, definitely a social influencer!

he pranked dabi one time, trying to scare him. he got punched in the face resulting from him getting a bruise (didn't post for his selca week, got his fans in shambles wondering what happened to him)

꒰ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ꒱

the annoying guy who teases you all day, also likes doing activities all by himself. is on the dance club??!?? he can dance!! and win in every competition he partakes in.

would receive love letters and chocolates on valentines day?? he hates those things, would probably end up burnt or just down the trash :( or maybe he would just give it away to his friends, either way he doesn't like it.

he gave you one though, from him too?!? very mixed signals, but it's dabi so it's bound to be one.

꒰ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈 ꒱

that guy who plays mobile games at school, when phones are supposed to be surrendered! surprisingly, is good at hiding his phone well and is very participative in group work!

he's that guy who wears hoodies even in the hot weather! does not give a shit about other ppl, unless it's correlative to him.

have a very messy sleeping schedule, one time he fell asleep on your shoulders he was warm and very cuddly too! nuzzled in your neck and inhaling your perfume.

dabi smacks him in the head to wake him up, he jolts from the impact immediately muttering a small apology to you, still groggy but would definitely ask you to let him sleep on your shoulders again.

#deku x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha imagine #bnha imagine #roses ‘r rosie

[coralcatsea]

I feel like it's time for Hetalia fans to move on from calling Hetalia and its fandom trash. If you don't like it, why are you here? This fandom isn't unique in having problems, yet so many fans act as if we're the single worst, most embarrassing fandom with the most embarrassing series in existence. It wasn't meant to be a documentary, get over it.

It's silly, and honestly the people who are so ashamed are the ones that are embarrassing. I've told multiple random anime fans I liked Hetalia and you know what happened? They either thought nothing of it or said, "Oh, Hetalia! I remember that!" with amusement and even fondness. I've gone to cons and Disney in Hetalia cosplay and the people who recognised me were only ever positive. I've explained the concept of Hetalia to various people and no one batted an eye. The personified nations concept isn't new. And you know, there are some pretty questionable historical depictions out there, too, so it's not like we're the only strange ones. Are there Hetalia antis out there? Of course. But why even feed them?

If you're so freaked out by the idea of being associated with Hetalia, then either you're the embarrassing one, you need to get better friends who will respect you, or you need to stop caring about the opinions of judgemental people. You know what's cool, though? Owning what you like and being the representation of the fandom you want to see. Basically, just...be a mature person and learn how to explain your interests without dragging everyone else into your own insecurities.

I think it's okay to express opinions, but I don't feel it's fair to generalise or outright bash something in front of a bunch of people who might enjoy that thing.

#hetalia #aph #hws #hws japan #aph japan #hetalia manga panel

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter forty six

close to home | chapter forty six

plot: the reader and Sherry escape the Sanctuary

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,650 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!! I love this gif omg and I updated twice today so let's go bitches

“Negan’s taking Carl back to Alexandria,” Sherry said as she rushed into your room. You looked up from the book you were reading and sat up. 

“What?”

“He’s going with a bunch of guys. (Y/N), we can get out. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it would work out. But I can get us out. You and me.”

You started shaking your head as you stood. “I-I can’t, not without Daryl. If I leave, I won’t know what will happen to him. What Negan would do as punishment.”

Sherry smiled as she approached you. “I’m getting him out. I lied to one of the guards about Negan needing him. He’s going to be unguarded. I need you to write him a note in your handwriting. I’ll deliver it to him, and then you and I will go. We’ll find him on the road.” 

You started shaking your head, not believing this. “Sherry, can we risk this?”

“It will work. I promise you.”

With her sincerity, you believed her and quickly wrote the note. Go now. I will meet you where this began. You signed it with your initials, and then you gave it to her. “He’ll know where, go,” You said. 

When she was gone, you went to work. You didn’t have many belongings, but you grabbed one of the bags in the closet and threw a few things in there. A couple cans of food and two water bottles. You then put a few kitchen knives in the side pockets. Then you laid a towel down in the bag and waited. 

You didn’t have anything else to change into. All you had were little black dresses and heels, but it would have to do for now. Sherry was going to get Daryl out, and then you and her. And then you’d be with Daryl again, you’d meet him at Hilltop, and he’ll make everything better. 

You waited anxiously for twenty minutes before the door opened and Sherry walked in. “It’s done, we need to move.”

Quickly grabbing Tora, you shoved her in the bag and zipped it up. You heard her meowing, but she was very used to being carried like this, and you prayed she wouldn’t fight it too much. 

The hallways were empty as you walked next to her, trying to seem as innocent as possible. Everyone knew your face by now; hardly anyone had ever talked to you in the two weeks you’d been here. So even though a few people spotted you walking together, you weren’t worried. It was a regular sight. 

She led you through the medical wing and past more rooms you never got the chance to see. Finally you got to one of the back doors and she looked through the window of it before pushing it open. 

It was a small courtyard, one you didn’t know even existed. You scrunched your face in disgust as you realized this is where all the compounds waste went to you. There were piles and piles of trash and rotton food. 

“The sanitation duty takes a break for dinner, and no one watches back here. Not while groups go out. They need to guard other areas.” Sherry quietly explained to you as you approached a fence. 

Sherry started to climb, struggling in her heels. You didn’t hesitate to follow her, but the added twenty pounds from Tora made it difficult. 

You were careful and went as quickly as you could, and finally, your heels clicked on the ground. You were out. 

“Come on, we need to get a head start before anyone realizes we’re gone.”

***

You were a few miles out, following Sherry, when she started to slow down. Tora was keeping up by your side now, and you were lucky not to stumble on any walkers. Still, you thanked the lord that you grabbed the knives you did. 

“I know we’re we can go. I just don’t know how to get there,” You told her. “But if we can get to a road with a sign I might be able to figure it out.” 

Sherry was silent as she stopped. “I’m not going with you.”

“What?” You asked. “You have to.”

She shook her head. “I need to get out of here. Far, far away. I can’t go with you, (Y/N). I need to leave.”

“Sherry, I can’t…” You trailed off. “No, please come with me.”

“Find Daryl. Find your people. You guys will beat Negan; I know it. Somehow you will.” She said and grabbed your hand. “Be happy, be free.” She told you. 

You tried not to cry as she backed away and felt like you were losing a lifeline. She was the sole reason you got through the past two weeks, and you couldn’t imagine her not being with you. 

“Sherry!” You called after her. She turned to look at you. “You wanted to make it right with Daryl? You have. You did more than enough. I will tell him everything you did for us, I promise.”

She smiled and laughed softly. “Good luck, (Y/N). I’ll never forget you.”

***

You were on the run for three days. 

Your heels broke yesterday and your dress tore the first night you spent alone in the woods. You and Tora had barely any food left, and you finished what was left of your water last night. 

You were breathless as you ran, your feet sore and cut up from walking and running barefoot. You were dehydrated, and you were lost. 

The woods seemed never-ending, and you couldn’t find a road anywhere. Just miles and miles of trees. The deeper you pushed in, the more walkers you had to take down. Your hands were stained red with blood. 

You had twelve walkers on your back; no matter how fast you ran, they kept pushing forward. And Tora was weighing you down. But you wouldn’t give up. 

Pushing yourself up the hill, you saw buildings in the distance. You wanted to cry and scream angrily and happily, but you get moving. The moans were getting closer, and you couldn’t afford to stop. 

The payment hit your feet hard, and you nearly buckled. Your head was spinning, and you felt like you were on the verge of fainting. 

When you checked around your surroudings quickly, you spotted another half dozen walkers down the street. Tears burned your eyes and you knew that this was really it. You couldn’t fight off a dozen and a half walkers by yourself. You were too tired, too exhausted, and you were now stuck. 

“Go, Tora,” You dropped the cat. “Run!” You screamed, pushing her forward and throwing your knife at the ground next to her. She scattered, and you fell to your knees, breathing deeply as your vision blurred. You were about to pass out. 

As the walkers closed in, you cried loudly and waited for them. Tora will be okay, you kept telling yourself over and over. You wouldn’t let her die with you. 

The walker closest to you reached out with its hands, and you stared at its rotten face, preparing yourself to be torn apart when an arrow pierced its skull, and it fell to the ground in front of you. You heard the whizzing of a few other arrows, and walkers started to drop. 

You heard the clacking of horses' hooves and watched in bewilderment as riders circled the area, spearing the walkers with sticks. When the last one fell, one of the riders approached you with a nervous-looking horse. 

“Who goes there?” The man asked, calming the horse and looking down at you. 

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t say anything. 

“Who art thou?” Another one asked. 

You looked around and stared at their body armor. “W-what?”

“What is thy name?”

You heard movement and watched as a woman jumped from her horse and approached you. “Hold on, she looks like she’s been really hurt,” She said. 

When she got to you, you crawled backward, away from the stranger. “Don’t touch me!” You screamed. “Don’t bring me back. Just kill me! I’ll never submit to Negan again!” 

You fell back against the pavement and stared up at the blue sky. 

“Ah shit,” You heard someone say. 

The woman leaned down next to you and carefully touched your hand. “We’re not with the saviors. We can help you.”

“I just want Daryl,” You cried lucidly. All you could picture was his face. 

“Did she say Daryl?”

“We gotta bring her back. She’s gotta be the one that Negan took. Rick said she was made to be his wife, right?”

You lifted your head and stared at the woman at the sound of Rick's name. “You know Rick?”

“They were here the day before last,” She said, grabbing your arm and helping you up. She took her knife and ripped off a piece of her shirt, using the scrap material to tie the ends of your broken dress snap. “You’re safe. You’re (Y/N), right? Rick and Daryl told us about you.”

You nodded as she helped you up, but you were unsteady. She helped guide you to her horse. “My name is Dianne. Your friend, Morgan, he’s with us.” 

Dianne helped you get on top of the horse. 

“Wait, wait,” You quickly whistled for Tora, and after a few never-ending seconds, she came darting out from underneath a wrecked car. “My cat. Tora.” You breathed out. 

Dianne grabbed the cat and handed her to you, and you held her tightly, quietly whispering how you were sorry and loved her. 

“We’re going to take you home now,” Dianne said. “You can see Morgan, okay?”

“Where is home?” You asked as the horse started to walk. 

“We’re going to the Kingdom.”

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd #daryl twd #daryl x you

[animebw]

I’m gonna be honest, I thought going into Winter 2023 that this was gonna be a bit of a dump season. One of those seasons where anime just kinda sits around farting and we all wait patiently for the actual Good Shit to start coming out again while pretending to catch up on our backlogs.

That... has not been the case.

Bofuri Season 2: Seriously, how does this show get so many incredible action cuts?

Buddy Daddies: Look, it’s probably not gonna be gay, but Spy x Family meets Tiger and Bunny is something we all need in our lives, okay?

Campfire Cooking in Another World: Couldn’t even last a full episode of this one before my eyes glazed over. Dropped.

Endo and Kobayashi Live: Now this is pretty charming! Pity the animation’s such garbage, though.

Giant Beasts of Ars: It’s a damn good season for fantasy anime, y’all.

Handyman Saitou in Another World: Could actually end up a halfway decent isekai SOL if it stops being so goddamn terrible at structure.

High Card: This is exactly my brand of Anime Bullshit(tm) and I am so on board.

Ippon Again: An actually great female-led sports anime? With major A Place Further Than the Universe vibes? Do not sleep on this one, y’all.

Kaina of the Great Snow Sea: Damn. Good. Season. For. Fantasy. Anime.

Kubo Won’t Let Me Be Invisible: As far as Takagi-san knock-offs go, this one is pleasant enough.

The Magical Revolution of the Oh Fuck It These LN Titles are Impossible to Remember Just Call it “MagiRevo”: Buckle up, folks, we might just have another Actually Good Isekai on our hands.

Malevolent Spirits Mononogatari: It’s Noragami but shit. Dropped at 1 episode.

Nagatoro-san Season 2: Yeah, turns out I’m still not above the occasional well made trash.

Nier Automata: Genuine question, is this gonna be an acceptable substitute for the game or will I just be spoiling the experience for myself?

Onimai: I fucking hate the Mushoku Tensei studio so much and I hate myself even more for deciding to stick with this one.

Reborn to Master the Blade: This one might be soon for the chopping block, but I’m holding out hope that its story can overcome its middling production values. We’ll have to wait and see.

Revenger: GEN UROBUCHI’S BACK BABY YEEEEEEHAW

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale: Take notes, Every Isekai: this is how you explore slavery in a fantasy setting.

The Tale of Outcasts: Feels like a 13-year-old’sedgy  Ancient Magus Bride fanfiction. Honestly, though? I kind of really dig it.

Tomo-Chan is a Girl: LET. TOMBOYS. BE. TOMBOYS. WITHOUT. SHAMING. THEM. FOR. IT. Dropped at episode 2.

Tokyo Revengers Season 2: At this point, I’m just watching out of morbid curiosity of how bad the manga’s ending supposedly was.

Trails of Cold Steel: The Northern War: Easily the weakest fantasy anime of the lot. Giving it one more episode to impress me, otherwise it gets the drop.

Trigun Stampede: Y’all are buggin, the CG here is incredible.

Tsurune Season 2: Good god, the glow-up from season one is nuts. KyoAni just does not miss.

Vinland Saga Season 2: Okay, manga readers, let’s see if watching a bunch of sad men farm is as incredible as you say.

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #winter 2023 anime #trails of cold steel #sugar apple fairy tale #onimai #nier automata #tokyo revengers #the tale of outcasts #ippon again #bofuri #buddy daddies #giant beasts of ars #revenger #kaina of the great snow sea #high card #handyman saitou in another world #endo and kobayashi live! the latest on tsundere villainess lieselotte #tsurune #ijiranaide nagatoro san #reborn to master the blade #kubo won't let me be invisible

[brodieland]

Hai!!! could you please write hcs about Leo Valdez with a punk reader?

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 "Have I ever told you how good it feels to hold you..." ´ˎ˗

Leo Valdez x Fem!Dionysus!Reader Synopsis: Punk reader headcannons!!!! Warning(s): nothing I don't think, I might be reforming idk Word Count: 795 A/N: 2 post in one day?? grind never stops clearly. this made me realize that I listen to more punk bands than I thought I did (if u couldn't tell I get called emo at school), anyways I haven't done headcannons before, so this might be kinda trash, but these were really fun lowk

Leo Valdez was nothing but a curious guy

so when he was just strolling through camp and heard a loud thud in the Dionysus cabin, he had to check it out

he'd never been in there before, but he knew it shouldn't have been as messy as it was.

the cabin was covered in band posters, consisting of Green Day, Blink 182, and chuckled when he read one that said Buzzcocks.

that's when you noticed him standing by the door

"who're you?"

you had a fierce look on your face that made Leo gulp

"Uh, I'm Leo."

"cool, well whatever your doing, im busy looking for a lighter."

That's when you backtracked and walked toward Leo, and he felt really intimidated right now. like you were gonna shove him out, not like he knocked anyways

You had dark make-up, and darker clothes, and your blue hair was starting to fade hair.

"your the fire boy, right?" Leo just nodded

"gimme a lil fire would ya??" you demanded.

Leo sparked some fire from his finger as you held a needle over the flame, he just raised his eyebrow as you walked over to the mirror

leo's jaw just dropped as you pierced your belly button, giving no reaction

he may have just fallen in love

from that day forward you both started getting closer, becoming really good friends, and eventually start dating!!!!

you weren't as intimidating as you may have looked, your just a sweetheart in dark clothes

you guys hung out a lot in your cabin, since you only had one sibling who was almost never home

he would ask about your posters, asking to listen to some of your favorite music

it may not have been his favorite thing in the world, but you had a massive grin on your face as he listened so he went along with it just for you

(may or may not have slowly started liking it more and more)

he listens to your favorite songs on replay to learn the lyrics, so he could jam out with you (boyfriend material!!)

he lets you do your make-up on him

though he won't wear it out, its a cute gesture (you sit on his lap while you do the make up)

he's always down to match with his girl

even his nails, even if they quickly chip off the next day in the forge

its the thought that counts, he supposes

he helps you redye your hair, getting the spots in the back you can't reach very well

he even let you dye a matching streak in his hair

he literally could've give a flying fuck what people might think of you, or what you like, he loves you for you

defends you if someone makes a diss for you being "emo" (lets learn the difference guys!!!)

mans just a massive simp for his girl yk

when he noticed the electric guitar in your cabin, he absolutely demanded you play it

and he def recorded you playing as well

he showed the recording to his friends, bragging about how cool and hot his girlfriend is

his wallpaper is a 0.5 of you midway doing your makeup, so like one eye covered in black and the other one completely naked

he said it reminded him of like a panda or something, you just wished he'd take one where you didn't go crosseyed

you have a bunch of random stick n pokes, mostly just small little stars around your fingers and wrist, Leo helped with the ones on your dominant hand, since you couldn't do those yk

you tried convincing him to let you pierce his eyebrow, but needles, sadly, scare him (maybe one day!!!)

they're times when your room gets to messy with clothes, every now and then he catches himself stepping barefoot on one of your spiked bracelets

he takes it upon himself to clean up a little for you, and how grateful you are for your boyfriend

you wrote his name on the neck of your guitar, now whenever you play you see his name and think of him

you bedazzled some of his tools

and by bedazzled, you glued mini spikes on like the edges on the handle parts of his tools, and now they matched your bracelets

matching rings for sure

hes had to convince you not pierce your tongue at like 2AM, considering you had no idea what you were doing (this happened three times)

he surprised you with a Ramones poster for your birthday, one that you've been looking everywhere

you absolutely jumped on him thanking him

"Baby, I love you" by Ramones is your guys song

"Have I ever told you how good it feels to hold you, it isn't easy to explain"

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #Leo valdez #leo pjo #leo hoo #leo valdez hoo #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez headcanons

[hell-drabbles]

So the Leviathan meme I sent you earlier got me a small brain rot. So Here we go-

-

Ever since your temporary stay in Hades, everything become much more hassles than it already is.

The king of this place, leviathan himself, seems to be infatuated by you for an unknown reason. It could be the usual 'you're the descendant of Solomon' or you simply didn't hold the same interest you have in him the way he is to you, even as he graciously welcomed your arrival with open arms, weird but who knows.

Upon the dark sky greets you from the enormous window, you long drift off to unconsciousness. everything became a white noise even the sudden creaking sound of your door getting opened, small, wet, and sloppy footsteps walking directly into your bed before climbing, although clumsily, into your bed and rolling into your chest.

Your breath started to ragged as if something just punched the air out of your lungs. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you adjust the darkness surrounding you, with only a small fading light coming from the window but even that is enough to see a looming silhouette akin to...

A circle???

Your hand instinctively reaches and wraps around the 'something', earning a squick of surprise and resistance, as you quickly sit up. Whatever the thing in your hand seems undoubtedly soft and squishy, although something at the top of its head seems hard and long. you almost mistake it for a plushie if it weren't for the constant trashing around, trying to get out of your grip, and a bunch of high-pitched squick.

You pull the curtains to the side, basking further in the light of the luminous orb as you finally see what is in your grip. It looks just like a plushie as you first thought it was, it had small stubby wings and a beak though, which reminds you of a baby duck so it's not a plushie. But the body is round and it has a pitch-black button-like eye that always almost makes it look serious, just like any normal plushies. Also, it has beige-colored hair and a pair of horns with a silver chain attached on both sides.

Kinda weird but it seems that accessories reminded you of something, or rather someone as only one devil you had known so far, had those in its head. Maybe it could be Leviathan's pet? He didn't seem the type to keep a plushie around, let alone something that looked like him. But it couldn't just be that this... thing freely just passed by around. This is not Gehenna nor Tartaros.

You thought was cut when another high-pitched sound was made. You abruptly let go, watching it fall and bounce against the sheets before hastily rolling back to your lap.

"Oi"

You reach your hand out again as you try to pry off the thing clinging to your lap, it responds with an incoherent squick that sounds like cursing as it slaps your hand away with its small wings. Remaining stubborn about staying on your side.

"Brat" you hiss, although no venom was bitten into it. You were amused, having this small creature try to act like it was above you.

"Fine, I let you stay here for tonight but I'm sure Leviathan will not be happy with a trespasser like you"

You already can imagine the chaos Leviathan is about to cause when he finally acknowledges something that not only looks like him but also manages to gain your attention.

-

I wanted to keep this as long as I could in my inbox but I must show the world this!

Rather than go to Leviathan and tell him of this fluffy trespasser, you went to grab some food first because your needs come before anyone else. Of course, this little creature had to come with you, though you eventually did stuff him in your pockets because you needed your hands to carry your stuff back to your bedroom.

Sure, sure there's a dining room but that place is too big and you're too irritated to handle morning chatter and whatever potential horny antics might come up just because you're eating.

Anyways, the little chick that stumbled into your room would not stop trying to climb out of your pocket, so you just unhooked the chain on his horns and forced them through a belt loop. Now he just hangs and swings about, flapping his wings as you brought your food back to your room.

You set your food down, your curtains already open to let the light in, and place the small bird thing on your table. Dizzy from the not so stable ride, the Leviathan look alike rolled on his side until he hit your bowl.

You sat down and the chick regained is bearings. When he tried to climb up your shirt, you put a finger on his head and pushed him down.

"No," you firmly said, "I'm eating. Sit and let me enjoy my meal."

And just to be sure he doesn't sneak off and do mischief elsewhere, you grabbed him and kept him in your fist. Though, not so tightly as to make his eyes pop out.

The chick cheeped and shrieked and you just squashed his head under your thumb. Only then did he finally quiet down.

About a minute later, you realized that you were actually suffocating him and him go with an "Oh shit."

The bird didn't roll this time. If anything, you can see the dissatisfaction in those beady black eyes. He pecked at your fingers until you had no choice but to put him in your vice grip. He pecked at your thumb and you squashed his head again.

Only then did you hear a satisfied sigh.

"The resemblance goes beyond looks, huh?"

Well, you learned something new today.

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[vespertineneon]

HOW FALLOUT 4 COMPANIONS WOULD DO IN A STANDARD AMERICAN SCHOOL SYSTEM!

CW: mention of vaping, mention of murder, mention of bullying

Guys don’t let the content warning scare you I literally just have to add CWs to all my fandom posts or I get so scared

Paladin Danse

- Gym is certainly his favorite class

- He has a lot of motivation and discipline

- He will pass his classes and get into honor roles and stuff like that

- This bitch is getting collage credits early through AP classes

Deacon

- Near dropout

- He would get bored of being in class and just skip tbh

- Or he would just stay home

- He is not graduating, he might get his GED though!

- Always getting in trouble for dumb shit, but other students think his rebellion is a statement.

Cait

- Vapes in the bathroom. She’s that kind of girl.

- She is a C- student. BARELY passing classes.

- Pressures other people into skipping with her. (Piper)

- Talks back to all of the teachers, even when she’s in the wrong.

Codsworth

- He’s a fucking robot

- He is passing all of his classes

- Will do your homework for you

- He tutors other students

- He snitches on anyone skipping

Curie

- She will not do your homework for you. She will help you learn.

- She is a robot guys, of course she’s passing her classes.

- She won’t snitch on anyone skipping. She will inform them that making a habit of skipping is dangerous and could lead to their “academic downfall”

Hancock

- Nobody knows how he isn’t expelled.

- Taking this from a repost of my vote, but he totally sets a trash can on fire

- Him and MacCready are the little shits duo.

- Teachers are always frustrated with him because he skips classes, talks back, etc, but passes the tests with flying colors.

- He is an orchestra kid.

- Is friends with the weird kids and bully victims

MacCready

- Little shit

- Gets suspended all of the fucking time

- Hancock helps him pass his classes

- MacCready really only shows up for the people

- Hates authority figures

- Talks mad shit

- Gets his ass beat by other students

Nick Valentine

- A/B student

- Doesn’t get into much trouble, and when he does it’s always good trouble

- If you do something like vape in the bathrooms he won’t snitch he’ll just give a very disappointed look

- He fucking HATES MacCready Nick WILL snitch on his ass

- Library assistant with Piper

Piper

- School news + Student leadership

- Grades vary. She is shit at math.

- Makes a bunch of posters saying dumb shit like “Stop by the library”

- Is always ALWAYS early to school

- Stays away from trouble unless she is PEER PRESSURED

Preston Garvey

- A+ Student

- President of the student council

- “You can’t find your class? Here, let me mark it on your map”

- Always tries to convince students to show up on time, not skip, etc

Strong

- State wide expulsion

- Literally killed someone probably

- Homeschooled

- He is dropping out

X6-88

- A fucking ROBOT

- He doesn’t have the drive or motivation to go above and beyond. He stays as a steady A+ student.

- He is a fucking cunt and nobody likes him

#fallout 4 #john hancock #maccready #paladin danse #nick valentine #fallout companions #deacon fo4 #cait fo4 #codsworth #fallout 4 curie #piper wright #preston garvey #Strong #x6 88