#maybe there could be like a limited amount of time for each person and it runs by a rotation schedule

[stargazeraldroth]

Okay, I can’t be the only one who had a strong urge to just. Explore their school. Like I know a lot of people say they wouldn’t mind going to school if they didn’t have to do work (mood btw), but I want to be able to explore the school. I want to be able to walk into classrooms and look around, not skip past everything because I have 2 minutes to get to the other side of the school from floor A to floor Z. Like I want to know how other teachers decorated their classrooms, I want to be able to actually stop and look at artwork or posters put up in the hallways. I seriously can’t be alone in this, can I?

#possible suggestion for study halls or free periods #like an improvement or addition #you can let students wander the halls with like a special pass or something #especially if you have one at the end of the day #but i understand there's concerns in the instance of fire alarms or worse #but still #maybe there could be like a limited amount of time for each person and it runs by a rotation schedule #like a certain handful of students get to use the pases one day and a new group of students gets the next day #something like that #i feel like we spend so much of our days stressed and rushing #we can't even take in our environment #like we know our environment but only by pattern #that might just be me though

[nonbinarypirat]

physical affection and how it relates to iruma: part 1, parental touch

iruma reads as someone who is touch starved and doesn't like/understand touch until he now has affectionate people in his life. His parents have probably never touched him besides the required amount when he was a baby and maybe a headpat or quick hug (which would more than likely just be a manipulation tactic to get him to do their crazy schemes). They left him alone for days on end, there's no way they even could have been affectionate with him. And it's not like he ever went to school, his "friends" at school couldn't even remember him because of how many days he missed.

Overall, Iruma reads as touch starved but doesn't know he's missing it since he never had it to begin with. Here comes the love trio, the misfit class, Balam and more. Suddenly he has a lot of people in his life who are comfortable with touching him, even want to as a sign of how close they are. And we can see iruma very much becomes happy with it in turn.

That's why Balam and iruma's relationship is important, a parental type person he trusts is actively choosing to be affectionate with him, not to manipulate him but just because he cares about iruma. He even told him the reason is just to bond and get to know iruma, not some sort of underhanded method. This is just Balam's way of connecting. And they are close to each other enough to be comfortable in each other's spaces. Whether Iruma reads balam as a parent or not, balam is very much like a momma bird, keeping him close and safe in his arms. And Iruma becomes more open to it as time goes on with them knowing more about the other.

This is also a great dynamic because balam gives him the affection that he doesn't recieve from kalego, someone he clearly holds in high regard. Almost every time iruma reflects on the people that matter the most to him, kalego is there. which i find fascinating because what is kalego to iruma? on a subconscious level, i think he views kalego as a parental figure to him as well, one of the first to give him clear and concise rules to follow. his parents were just a fucking mess, they barely parented. never really taught him life lessons besides "just say yes" and "run." Kalego clearly cares a lot while also helping iruma navigate the netherworld making it easy for him to project a father role onto kalego

But kalego isn't an affectionate man from what we have seen. And even if he was, he is his instructor first and foremost so he may not feel comfortable being so with iruma (and also imagine the fucking annoying comments about favoritism from the other misfits LOL). Any touching has been fairly limited to him picking up Iruma like during the teacher dorm visits and Kalego's final hours as a familiar. Which honestly make these few scenes even more precious. Because he is actively choosing to be like this with Iruma. Affection does not come easy to Kalego like it does Balam. More than likely because of his upbringing and family beliefs (always needing to remain vigilant, dignified) and him as a person. So while he doesn't touch Iruma often, his one on one moments with him are extremely personal and parental in nature. And when he does interact with Iruma physically, the rarity adds to the specialness.

And then there's Opera. Opera has been especially more affectionate in the latest volumes with hand holding and hugs and all sort of touching. Which is very wholesome to see because Opera wasn't a character that had much of a strong relationship with Iruma at the beginning besides guarding him. I always got the impression that Opera didn't know how to feel about him, not to say they wouldn't protect him with everything they have. But the feelings and affection started up after the battler/batra Party when Iruma grabbed both Sullivan and Opera (though the care for him had been growing steadily before that). I have seen two main headcannons for their relationship, some see it more as a big sibling relationship while others see it as a parental one as well. For the sake of this post, I will be using it as a parent and child one.

Opera has been right there with Sullivan watching Iruma grow more and more confident as time goes on. And through Iruma growing up, we see how proud of him Opera is. From a scared child to a more bold child, Opera has helped cultivate this in him. I also love that whenever Sullivan isn't around, Opera takes over for taking care of him, allowing the two to have solo family time. Obviously their relationship is more of a weird dynamic seeing as how Opera is a security devil, but that doesn't stop the story from developing their relationship. The physical affection for the two is started from both sides, Iruma hugging Opera or Opera holding out their hand to hold as they walk home. In this case, their relationship is the most parent like as the story progresses.

And finally, we have Sullivan who is the most affectionate of the four. Come on, you can't beat grandpa when it comes to love and devotion to Iruma. He is the first one to introduce Iruma to physical affection in the first place. Now granted, in a slightly overbearing way at first because Iruma is not used to this and Sullivan is too happy to have a grandson. But now, we can see the genuineness behind each of his interactions with Iruma. He very much acts like a doting grandfather, and he really does love him too. Touching clearly comes more naturally to him so it's his way of showing Iruma love which opened the doors for more people in Iruma's life to show this too. When Iruma first started touching Sullivan back at the battler/batra party, it highlighted that Iruma is now more comfortable with Sullivan to do so back. He has been taught by Sullivan this way of caring and cares about him in the same way too. There's a lot of mutual love.

They have come a long way as a family unit. Sure, grandpa has always been Iruma's number one supporter, but at the beginning of the story it felt way too over the top? As the audience we were right there besides Iruma in feeling overwhelmed by Sullivan. This far into the story though, the emotional trust they have in each other is beautiful. They are no longer just two individuals thrown together by fate, they are two people who care about the other and their weird little family. And its even more wonderous when we think about Sullivan's past, having lost someone deeply close to him and has no way of knowing if he'll ever return (aka Delkira). From what we know, it seemed that Sullivan truly loved him like a son/grandson/family member and loosing him is still something he's grappling over. And yet, he was still able to create this, push through his pain to make a family with Iruma. He's not a replacement for what he lost, but somone he allows himself to care about in a similar way in the past. By pushing through the trauma, he has been able to give Iruma what he never had in his past life.

I see both Balam, Kalego, and Opera as parents who provide him with different styles of parenting (with grandpa also providing that but also being a "ill give you anything you want" guardian hehe). Through this, he can learn varied viewpoints and, more importantly to this post, the affection he never had as a child. Does it make up for never having grown up with it? No, it never could. But it's not about making up for what it lost, rather its about making new connections and love with what you have now. And displaying that love in small and bigger ways with touch.

#iruma-kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #m!ik #balam shichirou #naberius kalego #opera iruma #m!ik sullivan #iruma sullivan #touchstarved #character analysis #relationship dynamics

[reasonsforhope]

"The New York City Council voted to ban most uses of solitary confinement in city jails Wednesday [December 20, 2023], passing the measure with enough votes to override a veto from Mayor Eric Adams.

The measure would ban the use of solitary confinement beyond four hours and during certain emergencies. That four hour period would be for "de-escalation" in situations where a detainee has caused someone else physical harm or risks doing so. The resolution would also require the city's jails to allow every person detained to spend at least 14 hours outside of their cells each day.

The bill, which had 38 co-sponsors, was passed 39 to 7. It will now go to the mayor, who can sign the bill or veto it within 30 days. If Mayor Adams vetoes the bill, it will get sent back to the council, which can override the veto with a vote from two-thirds of the members. The 39 votes for the bill today make up 76% of the 51-member council. At a press conference ahead of the vote today [December 20, 2023], Council speaker Adrienne Adams indicated the council would seek [a veto] override if necessary.

For his part, Mayor Adams has signaled he is indeed considering vetoing the bill...

The United Nations has said solitary confinement can amount to torture, and multiple studies suggest its use can have serious consequences on a person's physical and mental health, including an increased risk of PTSD, dying by suicide, and having high blood pressure.

One 2019 study found people who had spent time in solitary confinement in prison were more likely to die in the first year after their release than people who had not spent time in solitary confinement. They were especially likely to die from suicide, homicide and opioid overdose.

Black and Hispanic men have been found to be overrepresented among those placed in solitary confinement – as have gay, lesbian and bisexual people.

The resolution in New York comes amid scrutiny over deaths in the jail complex on Rikers Island. Last month, the federal government joined efforts to wrest control of the facility from the mayor, and give it to an outside authority.

In August 2021, 25-year-old Brandon Rodriguez died while in solitary confinement at Rikers. He had been in pre-trial detention at the jail for less than a week. His mother, Tamara Carter, says his death was ruled a suicide and that he was in a mental health crisis at the time of his confinement.

"I know for Brandon, he should have been put in the infirmary. He should have been seeing a psychiatrist. He should have been being watched," she said.

She says the passage of the bill feels like a form of justice for her.

"Brandon wasn't nothing. He was my son. He was an uncle. A brother. A grandson. And he's very, very missed," she told NPR. "I couldn't save my son. But if I joined this fight, maybe I could save somebody else's son." ...

New York City is not the first U.S. city to limit the use of solitary confinement in its jails, though it is the largest. In 2021, voters in Pennsylvania's Allegheny County, which includes Pittsburgh, passed a measure to restrict solitary confinement except in cases of lockdowns and emergencies. The sheriff in Illinois' Cook County, which includes Chicago, has said the Cook County jail – one of the country's largest – has also stopped using solitary confinement...

Naila Awan, the interim co-director of policy at the New York Civil Liberties Union, says that New York making this change could have larger influence across the country.

"As folks look at what New York has done, other larger jails that are not quite the size of Rikers will be able to say, 'If New York City is able to do this, then we too can implement similar programs here, that it's within our capacity and capabilities," Awan says. "And to the extent that we are able to get this implemented and folks see the success, I think we could see a real shift in the way that individuals are treated behind bars.""

-via NPR, December 20, 2023

#prison system #prison #jail #criminal justice system #criminal justice reform #prison industrial complex #us news #united states #new york #nyc #new york city #rikers island #eric adams #solitary confinement #us politics #police brutality #cw police brutality #cw death #cw suicide #prison reform #carceral state #good news #hope

[xanasaurusrex]

plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,

clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)

y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.

y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.

during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.

the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.

y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.

whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.

since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.

it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.

unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.

the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.

capture the flag.

one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.

a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.

clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.

it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.

a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.

y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.

clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.

she could barely takes her eyes off her.

thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.

that would've been awkward....

when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.

strange... how things pan out....

when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.

as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.

"so, what's our game plan?"

her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.

it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.

during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.

clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.

"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.

clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.

"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.

but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.

y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"

clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.

the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.

clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.

as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.

clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.

she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.

clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.

"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.

y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.

all the air left clarisse's lungs.

with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.

neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.

this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.

unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.

clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.

for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.

the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.

once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.

y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.

y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.

"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.

clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.

#percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse larue x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse larue imagine #x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x yn #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse larue x you #ares god of war #ares child #drabble #request #❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚ #❛ xan's requests ༉‧₊˚ #❛ xan's anons ༉‧₊˚

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

How do you think Bucky would react to the reader admitting that she has a think for his metal arm?

I feel like he would be cocky about it

Oh, you see. Bucky Barnes is by no means a stupid man. At all…

Being trained as an assassin with quite a sensitive core, he knows which traits work for and against him. Yes, the army taught him plenty and Hydra taught him more. How to use weapons; how to properly use each and every one of them, to sharp shoot and count his ammo while he’s at it. How to abuse technology; how to hack into anything, photoshop a new reality and if he really had to, completely disable a traffic system and lay a country down flat.

But lying, manipulating and intimidating – that he learned on his own. Out of pure necessity. He knows what tone of voice will elicit which response, knows body language to a fault, knows how to ask which question to get the information he needs (or simply just wants) and how to stay quiet until the other person has dug themselves their own fucking grave. He knows how to use himself as his most lethal weapon and has had to.

So he knows damn well what his arm does to people. Yes, he can make it seem dangerous and intimidating. Knows exactly how to make people fear that arm. However, he certainly knows how to work it to his benefit. People’s unashamed curiosity with his arm and… Well, there have been plenty of men and women eyeing the appendage with a little too much interest. Bucky knows his sexuality well and the fluidity within it.

You are no exception. He catches you looking at his arm the same way he catches you looking at his lips. With the same hunger. Catches your heating face, too. Though he wouldn’t be the insufferable, broody, quiet man if he called you out on it instantly. Oh no. If anything, Bucky is a relentless tease, who doesn’t like it when people can’t ask for what they want or need.

When you started fooling around with him, you were already overwhelmed plenty by the unimaginable possibilities with him. Because he is a God. He knows his body perfectly and knows how to put it to good use. On top of that, it feels destructive, the way he can listen to your body and figure it out in a matter of minutes. He’s not only trained – he’s intuitive.

He had gone relatively easy on you in the beginning, only urging you a few times to verbally communicate to him what it was exactly that you were whining for. “Come on, baby,” he’d whispered in your ear with his flesh fingers slowly pulling out of you. “Can’t make you come if you don’t ask me to.”

He has melted your stubborn persona down to a begging, pleading, whimpering core more times than you can count. Relentless with his teasing, and sometimes going as far as to claim that he is a soldier after all, he ‘only takes orders’. Which is something you’ll get back to another time.

Right now though, you have reached your limit. It has been weeks of Bucky teasing something you cannot get yourself to admit. His metal arm. You want him to choke you with it, finger you with it, pull your hair with it– fuck it, you want to suck on his metal fingers until his jeans pop open at the sight.

And it is like he knows (because of course he fucking knows), because all he will do is stroke his fingers lightly over your pulse. Or brush the cold metal over your folds when he admires his next meal. He’s slid the hand into your hair, only to slide it down your back again without twisting his fist into your locks.

Prick.

“What has got you so worked up?” he asks when you writhe in the sheets uncomfortably. His metal fingers tease the apex of your thighs, mindless shapes burning into your skin. Your breathing is heavy and no amount of orgasms in the world could settle this need for that hand.

You bite your lip to keep from blurting out. Maybe it started with you being a bit shy and apprehensive about it, but honestly, now you’re just pissed. Weeks. Weeks he has been torturing you with absolutely fucking nothing at all.

“Bucky,” you breathe, exasperated.

“What, darling?”

You want to fucking scream at him. Honestly, you might.

Taking a deep breath, you swallow your frustrations and open your mouth to say something. But it is his metal, middle finger that dips into your dripping core that has you stutter on your breath. Yet it’s gone before you can moan out your relief.

“Fuck,” you rasp and swallow thickly.

“Hm?” he hums innocently and you want to throttle him.

“Do– ” you swallow again, ”Do that again…”

He forces a confused frown on his face and moves his flesh hand to your cunt, pushing in his middle finger. His flesh middle finger.

You squirm again.

“Bucky,” you grit out through your teeth, jaw clenching.

Suddenly, he’s there, his face inches from yours. Lips brushing your cheek and warm breath fanning your skin.

“Ask for it, baby,” he whispers, refraining from kissing your flushed skin. “Ask for what you want.”

You feel like you’re a child being told off and huff out your frustrations, making Bucky bite back a smile. Silence drags on and on and on. You try desperately to get your scrambled brain in order, especially since his orders – his voice – is another weakness of yours.

“Bucky, please…”

“Please what?”

“I want– ” you pause, quieting your pride like pinching out a candle, “I want your hand.”

“Say it,” he orders, waiting for the elaboration he knows is coming.

“The metal hand, Bucky,” you mutter breathlessly. “Finger me with your metal hand and I will do anything for you.”

Oh, and it is everything Bucky can do to keep his eyes from rolling back at the sound of those words, of that need in your voice. He might be a bit of a sadist, mentally rewarding himself for teasing you to the point of ordering your needs so sweetly. And he might be a secret sub for wanting to drop everything he is to give it to you the instant you ask for it.

His metal fingers are back at your cunt. Playing. Teasing. “Anything, huh?”

You can only let out a strangled whimper, your sweaty back arching when he brushes your clit. Bucky dips down again, brushing a soft kiss right below your ear that triggers a wave of goosebumps over your skin. “I only need you to do one thing for me. I’ll give it to you, I promise.”

You almost sigh in relief, until you realise who you’re dealing with. And you grit your teeth to the point of grinding them to dust, the metal fingers playing with you driving you to the brink of absolute insanity and dangling your release in front of you like chocolate.

“What,” you bite out. “What do I do.”

Bucky smirks and pushes two metal fingers into you, curling them into your spot with so much precision, you see only white.

“Come.”

#answered #writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #drabble #drabbles #IM SORRY I DONT HAVE TIME TO WRITE

[cleoluvrr]

Call Me (Rafe Cameron x Reader) I

SYNOPSIS: call someone else if you want that.

WARNINGS: mature content; secret relationship, verbal abuse, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, obsession, depiction of explicit sexual acts

masterlist

rafe always had a meanness to him, one that you’d never been oblivious to, though never really on the receiving end of it at first. the two of you would have petty banter, little arguments that would eventually reveal the underlying tension between you, but it was nothing more than that.

with others, however, you’d seen him be cruel–beyond cruel. your middle sister, just a couple years your junior, was friends with kiara carrera and those other boys she hangs out with by association. you’d heard the stories of his behavior, and while it may make you a terrible person, you really didn’t care. his business with them wasn’t yours, and you weren’t close enough to rafe to confront him about it. she’s never said he’s done anything to her directly, so what could you really do about it? it’s not like she knew you two even talked in the first place, so it was out of your hands.

maybe it was because of his strained relationship with his father, or the lack of relationship with his mother. it could be just how he is naturally; you wouldn’t be surprised.

however, you began to become a victim of his malice yourself at some point last year. you two weren’t particularly nice to each other, but there was something different this time. it used to be playful, but this time it was purposeful; at least it was on his end.

sure, rafe isn’t the most rational person in the world, but the amount of anger and frustration he was taking out on the girl he was secretly fucking was completely out of proportion. 

you asked him more times than i can remember; begging him to tell you what was wrong. even when you should have been mad at him for treating you like some bitch off the street, you simply couldn’t ignore the feeling of something being wrong with him. maybe you caught feelings for him and that’s why you cared so much, even when you shouldn’t have.

it was around the time you sister started staying out later, riding around town with her friends and stirring up trouble like she had no home-training. you were positive rafe had something to do with it, but never said anything about it. it wasn’t like he was answering your calls at the time anyway.

eventually, you just stopped talking. maybe it was inevitable, a natural occurrence from lack of mutual communication.

so when you saw him just a few dozen yards away for the first time in months, you weren’t sure how to feel.

you watch as he takes each drink to the head, shot after shot from across the room. his blonde hair that would have once been blocking his vision was now cropped short and barely visible from where you stood. the people around him encouraged the behavior, cheering him on every time he slammed the bottom of a shot glass back on the table.

he looked deceptively sober, but his body language was all the evidence you needed to know he had more than a bump of the cocaine some girl brought to the party. his alcohol tolerance was way stronger than everyone around him, the sloppiness of his friends completely opposite of his nonchalant demeanor.

that was one of many differences between the two of you. he liked to drink, get high, and do things that were far past the limits of legality that only someone with money and influence like him could get away with. you hated the feeling of losing control, of not being completely aware of what was happening around you, and would even never think of doing a fraction of the things he does.

yet, for some reason that you could never figure out, he piqued your interest. 

maybe it was because he was “bad,” and you were “good.” maybe it was his roughness that attracted you, or the way he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. rafe’s instability contrasted everything about you; it gave you a rush that you’ve never felt with anyone else.

“what are you looking at?”

you’re pulled out of the one-sided staring contest, the sound of your friend’s voice capturing your attention over the loud music. 

“what?” you said. you leaned down towards the shorter blond, ear in better reach of her voice.

“what are you looking at?” she repeats louder this time. her breath smells of alcohol, the pink whitney sitting in the bottom of her cup the clear cause of her slight swaying.

your eyes flicker back to the boy across the room for a moment, the sight of him leaning down to snort a white substance from the table beneath him making you cringe to yourself. your friend’s eyes follow yours, the green irises further revealed by the widening of her eyes.

“rafe cameron?” she says quite loudly, her voice carrying around the area as other people nearby turn to look at her in annoyance. “why the hell are you staring at rafe cameron?”

“say it louder, why don’t you? i don’t think russia could hear you.” your eyes tear away from him and return them to your scantily clad friend. “jesus christ, misty. you are so drunk.”

“you should try it some time.” she giggles, arm raising her cup in a cheer. you rolled your eyes at her and raised your own drink to your lips, the taste of cool water refreshing on your tongue. 

your experience with alcohol is slim by choice. the idea of not being in total control of yourself makes you more than uncomfortable, and the taste of the beverage did not appeal to you. you knew how to have a good time without the aid of alcohol or drugs.

“i’ll pass…” you say with a breathy chuckle. you pulled out your phone to check the time, the dark of the night beginning to drag on into the earliest hours of the morning. you were sure if you stayed out any longer your parents would send a search group.

the party hadn’t been much fun to me anyways, the celebration of your friend’s recent graduation not doing much to keep me entertained.

your gaze returns to the spot where rafe stood only to be met with nothing, the boy nowhere to be found in your brief sweep of the area. you look around the party from where you stood, head swiveling to find the blonde amongst the gaggle of kooks in the room. he has seemingly vanished into thin air despite being the most noticeable person in the place.

“hey, um…” you trailed off, head turning back to face a drunk misty. “i need to get home. are you ready to go?”

the girl shakes her head, finger pointing behind her to the familiar figure of her boyfriend. he was watching her closely, clearly on edge as his inebriated girlfriend consumed enough liquor to take down a grown man.

“jordan is taking me home with him.” she giggles again, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. you were sure he’d have her tucked into bed within the next two hours, whatever she thought was gonna happen would not be happening if he had anything to say about it.

“okay, girl. i’ll see you soon.” you pulled her into an embrace, the top of her head reaching the bottom of your chin as you lean down to hug her. you weren't sure how she wasn’t falling over yet–there wasn't much body for the alcohol she had befriended for the night to go through. “and lay off the liquor.” your voice was stern as you pulled away.

she throws the rest of the liquid down her throat in response, the bottom of the red solo cup left empty as crushed it beneath her fingers. you couldn’t help but to smile at her before turning away, her boyfriend now fast approaching before she got a chance to find the liquor table again.

stepping out of the party, you pull your phone from the pocket of your skirt to order a car home. it had completely slipped your mind that you rode here with misty and her boyfriend, instantly reminded of the fact that you didn’t own a car nor a license as you approached the front yard. the prices for cars at this time a night were more than you got paid per hour.

your head fell back in frustration, the warm summer breeze blowing against your bare legs as you ground out into the night sky. 

“y/n?”

the sound of your name sends a shiver down your back. you stopped dead in your tracks, as if the cool metal of a gun was being held to the back of your skull. 

your head turns in the direction of the familiar voice, eyes tearing away from the distant constellations in the night sky. lafe’s leaning against the side of his truck, a mixture of keys dangling around his finger.

“rafe.” you respond to him with his own name. “long time, no see.”

your feet carried you towards the blonde resting against the dark colored vehicle behind, eyes locked on the blue of his own. 

you could feel the sharpness of your teeth tearing into your bottom lip, the warm, bubbly feeling you got whenever the two of you were in the same room making a return. rafe’s eyes fell to the way you were ravaging the plump flesh, almost entranced by the sight. 

“how’ve you been?” the taller man pulls his gaze away and returns it to your eyes as he inquires. “heard you graduated, congrats by the way.”

“yeah, thanks.” you reply chipperly. “um…i’ve been alright. not a lot going on, to be honest. you?”

“same, same… he trails off awkwardly, the sounds of the late night filling the air between us. “hey, um, do you–do you need a ride, or anything?”

you shook your head immediately and raised your hand to show him the rideshare app on the screen.

“no, i’m good. i don’t wanna take you out of your way.” you smile politely at him as you speak. “thanks, though.”

rafe shakes his head and opens the passenger’s side door he was previously leaning on just seconds before. 

“it’s no big deal, seriously. you don’t live that far from me, i’m heading in that direction anyway.”

you stare at him wordlessly for a moment, eyes tearing away from him and flickering around the street around you. no one had exited the party after you did, at least not that you had seen. the ground was shaking beneath the two of you as the bass of the music continued strongly through the night.

you hesitantly take a step towards the car door being held open by the tall blonde, not quite sure if it’s smart for you to be around him right now. you lift yourself into the tall truck and plop down into the seat before your eyes set on rafe once again. 

the fist-stized muscle protected by your ribs feels as if it’s trying to tear your chest in half to escape just from the sight of rafe, unsure of how to behave around him anymore. 

shutting the door after seeing you settled inside, he makes his way over to the driver’s side. watching as he buckles himself in and starts the car, the roaring of the engine sent a vibration through the entirety of your being. 

“do you think you should be driving right now?” you spoke up after a minute of silence. his head turns fully to meet your eyes, his pupils large and eyes dark under the minimal lighting of the moon above.

his eyebrows raise at the inquiry before just barely furrowing them in confusion.

“you think i can’t handle my liquor?” he blinks at you in the darkness of the car, eyelids hiding and revealing the blown out pupils that had taken over the ocean blue of his irises. “you never had a problem with it before.”

your mouth opened briefly before snapping back shut, the words that left his own rendering you responseless. 

you and rafe had a long history together, though, if you were to ask anyone else that, they’d be taken by surprise. there had been plenty of times where you’ve let him drive around while he was far from sober, but it had been months since then. it had been months since you two had spoken, and it wasn’t really something you felt comfortable with anymore.

“okay, well it’s been a while and you’ve had a lot to drink tonight.” you eventually found your voice again, pointing out how long it’s been since you’d been in a situation like this one. 

rafe didn’t argue, instead choosing to shrug his shoulders wordlessly. he put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway smoothly, the truck pulling off into the dimly lit street.

you sat in silence for the entire ride, the awkwardness in the air more on your end than his. the trees blew by on the side of the road, the leaves appearing to be nothing but dark blurs as you observed them from the window. rafe was not sparse with the gas, each sharp, fast turn leaving you more anxious than the last.

you could feel rafe glance towards me every so often, steely eyes burning into the side of your face and leaving behind a warmth in your cheeks that couldn’t be shaken.

it was when he pulled in front of your dark house that he finally broke the silence, leaving a question that you weren’t quite sure how to answer hovering in the cool air of the truck.

“hey, y/n?” 

“yeah?” you didn’t turn to face him, choosing instead to watch the windows of your house for any signs of life.

he sat wordlessly for a few seconds and you could feel his eyes on you once again, much more intensely than the first few times on the road. you were afraid to look back at him, fully aware that you would become lost in them like you did when you first met him.

“why’d you stop calling?” he asked. 

you blinked at the reflection in the window, his question echoing in your head. turning to face him, his eyes locked onto yours. they refused to let go, gaze leaving you trapped under the spell that it casts upon you. 

gulping soundlessly, you wet your mouth with the saliva collecting underneath your tongue as you prepared an answer. it felt as if the words had been stolen from your throat the moment you exchanged looks. 

“why’d you stop answering?” you said after finding your voice.

the feelings repressed began to bubble to the surface the longer you two sat in the enclosed space. you felt breathless, confused, and angry. not only at him, but at yourself as well. 

you let yourself become attached when you shouldn’t have, and because of that you had to suffer repercussions of unrequited feelings. you were angry because he left you hanging for weeks, but you let him. he treated you like shit, but you let him. you were never supposed to catch feelings, but you let yourself. 

that’s why you’re angry.

even with all of that, your heart never failed to beat out of your chest when he was near you. rafe didn’t even need to put his hands on you to leave you breathless. you should hate him, especially with how he treated you, treated your sister and her friends–but you don’t. you can’t.

that’s why you’re confused.

“i was dealing with a lot. i’m sorry.”

“that’s not really an excuse, rafe.” your lips pursed at him before rubbing together, the clear lip gloss coating them acting as a lubricant to prevent friction between them. “you didn’t want to tell me what was wrong when i asked, so you don’t get to use that card.”

rafe puts the car into park before fully turning to you, the furrow of his brow intensifying as he squints. shaking his head slightly, he opens his mouth to speak.

“it didn’t have anything to do with you, though.” he said. “i didn’t wanna drag you into my shit because it was…it was a lot. it was a lot and you didn’t need to be involved.”

“okay, and that’s fine.” your eyes flickered over at the dashboard’s clock to check the time, the number rising with each minute into the night. you turned back to him. “what’s not fine is blowing me off for months and then asking me why i stopped calling. you didn’t care to answer the phone when i did.”

rafes hand rakes over his buzzed head, fingers running through the stubble that replaces the golden locks that once held its place. he pulls his lip in between his pearly white teeth as he nods at you, tongue peeking through as they part to make space for the pink muscle. 

“you’re right.” he doesn’t argue like he usually would, the sudden accountability taking you by surprise. “that was kinda fucked up, wasn’t it? you didn’t deserve that.”

“no, rafe. i didn’t.”

he nods his head again and leans back against the cool, tinted window. his lids are low as he looks across at you, the intensity of his gaze causing your heart to leave bruises on your ribs from how strongly it pounded. you could barely hear anything, blood rushing past your ears and every breath shakier than the last.

stepping out of the car, rafe makes his way over to the passenger side door. you watch curiously as he crosses the front of the car, the street lights shining down on his broad frame. you don’t move when he opens the door, nor when he looks between you and your seatbelt expectantly.

your brows raise at the man briefly before the ‘click’ of the seatbelt fills both your ears, hands removing the snug strap from across your chest. you take the hand that he offers to exit the car, glancing up at your house again before taking it. nobody seemed to be awake but you still didn’t want to risk anyone seeing us this close together.

“nobody’s gonna see, y/n . calm down.” rafe’s voice so close to your ear pulls your attention away from the property and back towards him standing before you. 

you stepped down from the truck with his aide, but he didn’t move even once your feet touch the ground. instead, his hands moved to grasp your waist and pull you closer. the move felt so familiar yet so strange, but you accepted it rather than pushing him away. 

the warmth of his palms against your bare skin was intensified by the jolts of electricity felt whenever we touched. you could tell he felt the way you shivered in response to his fingers just barely gripping the soft flesh beneath them, thumbs smoothing over in a back and forth motion.

“i’m sorry i ghosted you. i was an asshole for that, and you know what? i deserve whatever you feel towards me.” you say nothing, but don’t push him away either. he takes that as a sign to continue. “but i hope you find it in you to forgive me, because i–i miss you.”

you nearly snorted as he uttered the sentence.

“you miss me?” you repeated the words back to him. “you sure know how to show it.”

“yes, i miss you.” rafe’s hold intensifies for a moment before going back to its previous state. “when i saw you at the party tonight, i–i didn’t know how much i missed your face. i missed your smile, your smell. i missed having you close to me and being able to hold you like this…”

the sound of him inhaling strongly shook you, his eyes screwing shut as he took in the combination of your natural scent and the gourmand perfume you wore. his fingers twitched against your skin as he resisted the urge to dig them deep into the flesh like he always used to. his chest rose and fell intensely, all but able to see his blood pumping through his jugular. 

“god, i fucking miss you.”

“rafe…” you called his name softly but sternly to pull him out of his hypnotized state. his eyes open but they’re barely focused. you weren’t sure if his pupils were blown because of the high, or because of you. “i miss you, too.”

the stillness between us remains until you broke it, the voice in the back of your head reminding you of the months spent trying to get over him.

“i miss you, but i can’t do this again.” you sighed heavily. “you fucked me up for months, rafe, and i can’t let that happen again.”

“it won’t happen again. i promise.”

sou shook your head at his words, tongue poking out just enough to taste the vanilla flavor of the gloss coating your lips. 

“no–no, rafe. no promises.” you let your hands fall to rest on top of his, watching as the sudden contact makes him shiver just as much as it used to when he did it to you. “no feelings–i can’t do that again.”

you pushed him away gently and stepped to the side, unsure of if you’d regret the words about to leave your lips next.

“if you wanna fuck, then we can do that.” your bluntness catches him off guard, head jerking back at the directness of the words. you’d never spoken like that before, and it shocked you as well. “but the lovey-dovey shit that we used to do? no more of that.”

“what?” rafe looks at you in disbelief, the vulgar language leaving him stunned. it was a rarity that you cursed–at least around him–, let alone said something so…intense. “what is that supposed to mean? ‘no more lovey-dovey shit?’”

you shrugged and pushed past him fully, feet carrying your body a few yards away before turning back to speak. he looked thoroughly confused and a bit hurt, but not as hurt as he left you when he ghosted you with a million unanswered questions and just as many ignored phone calls.

“it means if you call me in the night-time, i might pick up.” your eyes scanned for his reaction to the words left echoing in your own head for a moment, the heat of his gaze reminding you of the reason you needed to escape into the house behind you to begin with. “just depends on what you’re on.”

rafe was left standing in the dark of the early morning, bewildered and alone. 

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx2 #obx1 #obx3 #obx fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine

[flightyquinn]

thinking about how cursed objects work in most fantasy RPGs.

typically, they wind up just kind of being a big middle finger from the game master - a kind of "whelp, you should have been more paranoid, so now you get hosed" sort of deal. which includes the somewhat game-y trope of objects that you can't get rid of. it's kind of an un-fun mechanic, when you think about it, which is why in most games I've been a part of cursed items often don't see much play, unless it's as a "punishment", or part of a story arc.

...which naturally leads me to think about how to do it better. in the past, I've tried using a curse as a kind of limiter. restrictions or drawbacks to a mostly functional item that is still worth using despite being "cursed". that's good, but it doesn't let you draw on truly nasty curses, because the item needs to be worth using, but also still needs to be balanced.

so, I'm drawing from a lot of sources here, like the cursed shield in Final Fantasy VI, and especially the comics by @foldingfittedsheets, where curses exist to (literally) teach the recipient a lesson

MEAT OF THE POST STARTS HERE:

what about cursed items that have a way to overcome their curse?

it's actually a fairly common trope in classical literature / fairy tales. every curse has a way to be broken. yet in D&D and Pathfinder, most often the only way to break a curse is to find someone with the specific curse-breaking spell.

so, give each cursed item a condition. perhaps a weapon that fuels a person's anger and causes them to fly into a blind rage in battle waits for them to sincerely forgive a hated enemy. perhaps boots that slow the wearer are actually making them heavy with the weight of past transgressions and a sufficient act of atonement will free them. maybe the perpetually bloody doll that gives its bearer horrible nightmares simply waits for someone to be motivated to action by them, either to right some past wrong, or generally bring a certain number of murderers to proper justice.

...maybe a Bag of Devouring. which is technically actually a creature, not a cursed item (but usually classified with them), can be befriended by figuring out a treat it likes, and will not only carry things for the player if fed and cared for, but even cough up a few things that previous bearers had stuffed inside.

the specifics aren't too important, but the idea is that any item with a curse on it has a reason for that curse, and a way to break it. the players can drop the item at any time, sell it off, give it to someone they hate, whatever, but if they put in the time and energy to actually breaking the curse, it becomes better than it was before, sometimes simply losing a drawback, or sometimes gaining new powers.

for an example, let's look at how that doll idea from earlier could work in D&D 5e;

while the party has the doll in their possession, they will all be afflicted by horrible nightmares, seeing themselves as children being attacked by a group of eight bandits with indistinct features. the details of the dreams change each night, and the players awaken before learning their ultimate fate, but the general gist is always that they are completely helpless, and subjected to harm.

after a long rest, have them roll a Wisdom or Charisma save (challenging DC, but not too difficult), or take a small amount of psychic damage.

if the players bring murderers to justice - meaning deliver them to the proper authorities and see them punished for their crimes - the content of the dreams starts to change. one bandit gets caught or killed by the end of the dream for each real world criminal successfully punished, possibly hinting to the players what they need to do. once eight murderers in total have had their sentences enacted, the next morning the doll will be in pristine condition with a serene expression, emitting a faint glow. thereafter, any player may attune to the doll to gain the ability to cast the Guidance cantrip without components (as thought the doll's ability to project what it wants the players to do into their mind was turned to their benefit.

#tabletop gaming #tabletop roleplaying #roleplaying games #dungeons & dragons #pathfinder #game master advice #homebrew #my ideas #curses #cursed items #long post

[feyascorner]

suggestion for a funny but fluff fic or miniseries: Modern day Baldurs gate /faerun, were Ascended Astarion and GN Consort reader have lived a couple of centuries together and are still acting like newlyweds / deeply in love and just obsessed with each other. (but also dress gothic/victorian or like they don't belong in the current timeline.)

Would be funny if its written from the perspective of a new servant or a party guest- Maybe they mess up using medieval words when trying to describe modern things and the POV person is not aware they are vampires.

idk Dracula investigator reporter style- Thoughts?

anon you're such a genius for this1!!! THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE UGH I TWEAKED IT A BIT THOUGH W THE PERSPECTIVE PART I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND <33 (also this is not proofread)

A ball in this day and age is uncommon.

At first, Alfira was skeptical. Especially considering the party's hosts were famous for being---a rather eccentric couple. Inviting but strange at times. Dressing in garbs similar to the pictures Alfira has of her great great great grandmother, it was natural that they'd stick out like sore thumbs in high society. But with the pay proposed to her, Alfira could dare not decline playing her instrument at the party. Even more so when she realized how exclusive the party really was.

She'd been invited to stay at their obnoxiously large mansion alongside the other servants for the week preceding the event, and while the sensible decision would be to practice her piece, her naturally curious nature got the better of her. And now, she hides an entire notebook under her pillow regarding all the peculiar things about the couple.

'No. 1: They rarely show their face during the daytime. Perhaps they simply don't want to expose their skin without a concerning amount of sunscreen? Everyone online raves about how bad the sun is for your skin nowadays.

No. 2: The kitchen is completely off-limits to everyone but the head chef. It reeks anytime I go near it, so I don't mind.

No. 3: He calls them their consort. Weird. Is that considered affectionate with rich people?

No. 4: We're not allowed to take our mirrors outside of our rooms. This one I really don't understand.'

The list goes on for ages.

Alfira's observations are ones done from across rows of other recruits or servants, given how rare of an occasion it is to see either of them. Though, she's noted that where one is, the other isn't far away. They're practically attached at the hip, and even if she's a complete outsider, it's easy to tell how smitten they are for one another.

And with how well she was being treated (the food and rooms alike) under their care, Alfira began to feel a sort of guilt for suspecting so much. They surely didn't deserve such obsessive note-taking when all she could see was the way Astarion pecked your forehead before lending you his arm, only gentle laughter ringing in the air.

Perhaps the two of you were truly just a happy couple. A strange one, sure, but happy.

The day of the event comes in no time. Despite the lack of preparation, Alfira manages to play her main musical piece with minimal slip-ups, and continues to leisurely play as she watches all the wealthy guests. The ballroom bustles with people, and because she knows that she isn't acquainted with anyone here, her eyes are naturally drawn to a crowd in the center of the room where you and Astarion are greeting the guests. As usual, your arm is locked tightly with his.

In a room full of dresses and suits, the two of you still somehow manage to stick out. The intricate designs on your attire aren't all to blame, because Alfira swears she sees a sort of aura around the two of you.

It must be a trick of the light, though, surely.

When Alfira and the other musical hires begin to play a slow dance song, you eagerly pull your partner to the dance floor. The dance comes to easily to the two of you, eyes so loving as they're set on one another that Alfira nearly feels jealous. The other single guests seem to feel the same way as Astarion leans into your ear and grins with a whisper.

Alfira squints.

'No. 32,' she notes in her head. 'He has sharp teeth.'

Once the dance is over, she thinks her hand may very nearly fall off. But when she sees you and your partner approaching in her direction, the pain is immediately forgotten as she straightens her back, eyes wide when you offer her a smile.

"Alfira, right?"

"Y-yes! That's me."

"I apologize I couldn't greet you sooner," you place your free hand on Astarion's arm. "We were so swept up in the preparations we didn't get to welcome the truly important guests."

Alfira blinks. A guest? She's not a guest.

You huff. "You really do look just as I remembered you to be! Right, Astarion?"

"I don't particularly remember the bard from then to be frank, my love," he responds, as if Alfira isn't standing right in front of them.

'No. 33,' she notes again. 'He's kind of a jerk to anyone else.'

But more importantly, a bard? She's a musician! Not merely a wandering bar entertainer with a bloody lute and a corset to go along with it. It's even stranger that you seem so familiar with her, even though she's only first talking to you right now. Is she finally losing it?

"Sorry, have we met before?" Alfira blurts.

"Ah," you laugh. "Apologies for my informality. We have, but I doubt you'd remember."

What does that mean?

"Although it pains me to tear you away from such a fascinating conversation, my love, we should greet the others," Astarion chips in, and Alfira inwardly sighs in relief. "Good day, bard."

That damn word again--

As Astarion leads you away back toward the crowd with you pressed close to his side, he smiles down at you while you whisper something he finds humorous up to him. Alfira realizes she's never been that close to either of you, and fears she may have missed her chance---as strange as the encounter was.

However, she does notice one thing about the couple as you walk away.

Both loving sets of eyes are the same piercing shade of bloody red.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #astarion x oc #astarion x you #bg3 companions #bg3 tav

[semisolidmind]

i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-

what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.

Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?

love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate

ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.

not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.

you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.

they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...

...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?

the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.

they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.

wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.

she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.

besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.

she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.

---

reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.

macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.

he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.

'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.

while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).

macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.

macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.

reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.

---

macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.

with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.

the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.

of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.

but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.

he just feels so...peaceful, with her.

the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.

and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.

---

sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.

during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.

he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.

macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.

macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.

the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.

this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.

and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.

…she let the monkey king in.

she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.

but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.

now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.

but she tries anyways.

“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”

macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.

“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.

“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."

reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...

she doesn’t have a choice.

reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.

with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.

he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.

---

reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.

reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.

she finds nothing.

"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.

reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—

"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.

"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"

reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.

she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.

"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."

---

wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).

reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.

she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #immortal peach au #i guess??? cause shes an immortal??? #this got waaay longer than expected #got tired and couldnt figure out how to end it #dialogue is hard

[laroserie]

i probably won't extend of that expect if people want me to (still scared of getting told to kms for writing about hh or hb) but !

the idea of (yandere? not necessarily but i am a yandere fan) Alastor whose darling/the reader is a baker!

the reader is of course a sinner, but they aren't someone that ended up in hell for something like murder or a really big sin, something more silly, petty. they were in hell for a while, they accepted that they were stuck there and decided to just keep on 'living'

so they open up a bakery, maybe they were a baker when they were alive or maybe they just like to bake - either way, they open their little bakery in a part of the ring of hell that is kinda better off then the rest, one part where their store is less likely to get burned down.

they will somewhat peacefully - outside of when the extermination happen, they fear for their life - and they still aren't sure as to how they survived that many years in hell. and they often have to get their shop fixed up after the yearly extermination. that bit is annoying but outside of that, life is as peaceful as life in hell can be.

before Alastor disappeared for seven years, he used to be a somewhat regular customer, you made some pretty good breads and pastries. it was when he was starting to get more and more powerful as an overlord so you were very much on the verge of passing out everytime he came in the store and tried to limit the amount of words shared between the two of you. you never knew if you ever slipped and ended up offending him, you didn't want to be an another one of those broadcasted scream.

but once he reached his peak, a few years before his disappearance, you stopped being this tensed up around him, you started engaging in small talks with him, it wasn't anything extraordinary, mostly centering around the weather and what he choose to buy this time. at some point you even started to ask him to sample one of your creation before officially selling it.

you ended up being somewhat attached to the radio overlord.

and then he ... was gone. for seven years. you were somewhat sad about this, but you were not THAT close to him so you get over it.

but one day, while going about your day, while serving a customer you hear something weird, about a certain overlord being back.

you don't really believe in it, until you hear one of his broadcast, a small smile creep on your face hearing it. you're happy to hear him again, to know he is still alive and well. but you don't expect to see him in person or anything like this, you doubt he even remember you but one day, one morning shortly after you opened the bakery - you heard the little noise made from the bell of the entrance alerting you that someone has opened the front door, and you see him.

without thinking much, you smile at Alastor and give him a warm 'Good morning !' and again, without thinking you add 'It's been a while, glad to see you're back.' you only realize that one of the most powerful overlord could not like a measly sinner to talk to them like they are a friend when they are barely acquaintances that haven't seen each others in seven years.

but before you can correct yourself and let out a ton of 'sorry please don't kill me' Alastor answer you with a 'Hm, yes it's been quite some time. I am glad to see you still running this bakery dear.'

you simply nod at him and decide to ask what you ask every customers 'So what will you get today ?'.

#a magic piece ? #oh a successful spell #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[4everhyucks]

NOXIOUS — teaser

PAIRING. na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE. smut, slight angst, college au

WORD COUNT. tba, most likely to be around 7k?

SYNOPSIS. jaemin is your best friend.. that’s what you would introduce him as. everything between the both of you changed in the blink of an eye. the once sweet and caring friend was gone, all that’s left is someone you could barely recognise.

— send in an ask or reply to be added into the taglist.

after greeting johnny, he takes a puff of his joint as he starts rambling about what happened earlier. something related to drunk haechan pushing renjun into the pool along with his girlfriend, which results in mark laughing really loudly, saying he wishes he was there to witness it in person.

while listening in on the funny stories they both had to share, you spot the boy that you have been desperately trying to search for by the stairs, avoiding your gaze when your eyes lands on him. you hesitate for a moment before leaving mark and johnny without any explanation.

now you’re confident that jaemin is in fact avoiding you because you see him walk off after making eye contact with you. you start to pick up your pace, catching up to him, grabbing onto the end of his sleeve. you say his name, loud enough for him to hear you, “please just tell me what’s wrong.. talk to me.”

“let go.” he says sternly, not even turning around to look at you.

you sigh, trudging to stand in front of him, fingers still lingering on his sleeve. “no seriously what’s your problem jaem? you’ve been avoiding me after the hangout, leaving me on seen and now you’re not even talking to me,” you glare at him, clearly annoyed by how he’s been treating you today. you didn’t want to admit it but you’re sad too, wondering what you did for him to act like this.

jaemin scoffs, “what’s my problem? i didn’t know we had a problem to begin with,” he knows he shouldn’t be giving you the silent treatment or being an asshole in general when its his own problem to begin with, it never was your fault. the way this conversation could probably end the friendship didn’t even pop up in his mind at all until he blurted, “why don’t you go back to being the whore you were huh? isn’t that all you’re good for?“

the loud party music that blasted throughout the place was all you could hear ever since you stepped in the house, but everything get blocks out when you hear those words come out of jaemin’s mouth. sometimes jaemin could be mean, very mean. but he knew his limits, your limits. there’s ringing in your ears, tears pooling your eyes. you wouldn’t categorise yourself as weak, or sensitive. but when it came down to jaemin, you always felt twice the amount of what you would normally feel. you were twice as happy when you’re having fun with him, singing karaoke, playing in the arcade, dyeing each other’s hair. you were twice as angry when he pissed you off, the multiple times he picked you up extremely late when you were in a hurry for your part-time job but then again he means so much to you, you always forgave him when he apologised.

now he had hurt you twice as much. you wonder why his words stung so much, this wasn’t the first time he called you a whore, maybe because he didn’t look like he was joking. you pray that when you lift your head up to look at him you would be met with a jaemin that’s smirking at you, telling you he was just kidding. only you don’t. you don’t see any sparkle in his eyes like they usually do, they’re dark and he’s not smiling.

you blinked the tears away, trying your best to not seem frail, going quiet before cursing at him, “…fuck you jaemin.”

#fic: noxious #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #na jaemin

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

I’ve been thinking lately about how much the ‘curse of Ymir’ really does affect the psyche of each of the nine shifters and how it impacts the ending of the story.

Up until the end of Season 3/Chapter 87-88, the reader and the viewer have no idea that the shifters have a limited amount of time to live. They seem to possess this god-like power and they can rejuvenate and survive almost any injury. They seem unstoppable.

This is what motivates Erwin to create a plan to take one of the nine shifter powers with the serum- having another Titan in your arsenal would make a difference in winning the war.

But what the Paradisians don’t know is how holding the power of the Nine just perpetuates a cycle of violence and cruelty. It’s a curse as much as it is a power. No matter how brilliant or grand your scope is for what you can do with this near limitless power, you have to contend with the fact that you will only have thirteen years to do it.

This revelation to me is the what colors the entire last arc of the story leading into and after the time skip.

For Zeke, it amps up the level of desperation he has for accomplishing the euthanization plan- relying on Eren was still a variable that was largely unpredictable, and he trusted him more than he probably would have if he weren’t running out of time.

Going back further in the story, it retroactively explains why Ymir (of the cadet corps) would go back with Reiner and Bertholdt at all- a seemingly nonsensical choice when it seems she has something to live for in her relationship with Krista/Historia. But Ymir knows she has little time left. She has no future. So she chooses to surrender.

For Annie, it shows her desperation to get back to her father, a man who showed her very little affection, and yet if she could just make it back maybe she could live at least a year or two with him and make at least one happy memory with the man who raised her to kill.

Armin, I honestly feel the most for, because what he and everyone else thought of as his salvation, was actually just saddling him with a curse. And heaps of responsibility to try and be grateful for it. He went from a character with a singular and wholesome conviction, to someone wracked with guilt and forced to solve the world’s problems with limited time and resources.

In Reiner’s case, I actually think the fact that he knows he is going to die is the only thing actually keeping him alive in the tail end of the story. He wants so badly to face retribution for his deeds, and he can only find the strength to keep towing the line because he knows his violent demise is guaranteed.

Characters like Pieck and Bertholdt seem to accept their lot in life- but deal with this internally and develop their own sense of morals despite it- albeit in different ways and in Pieck’s case with a shade of pessimism. Falco and Marcel stand out as a characters who see the farce for what it is- but still want to subject themselves to it in order to prevent someone they love from suffering through it in their place.

Eren, though, it’s easy to see how discovering he has already lived more of his life in powerless ignorance than what he has left is what ultimately causes the collapse in his character. Combine that with the way that he sees ‘future memories’ and doesn’t see any future beyond his own, and suddenly you have a naturally impulsive and violent person living in the most fatalistic reality ever. It makes perfect sense that his fall from grace is near immediate and precipitous.

What difference does all that power make if all it means is that you become a tool for destruction with no future? That you will be forced to curse someone else so that this cruel power will continue to exist? That is the true legacy of Ymir and the Eldian Empire- you can have near limitless power, but you will never have true control over your own life.

And it makes for such interesting discussions and questions about power and mortality and agency- and all the seemingly ‘correct’ and ‘incorrect’ ways to respond to their dilemma.

Anyway, it is always ‘thinking about the moral quandary of the titan shifters’ hours around here…

#aot meta #character analysis #titan shifter #attack on titan #zeke yeager #bertholdt hoover #annie leonhart #armin arlert #ymir #pieck finger #falco grice #marcel galliard #eren yeager #reiner braun

[maximotts]

Just a quick milf Wanda thought because I’m homosexual and I need to write this. Pls ignore that I had this queued for Wednesday and put it back in my drafts because of that creepy anon I got, here be the thing 💖

cw for implied smut and lingerie shopping, but there’s nothing truly explicit in this, just Wanda being flirty

Wanda asking you to run a few errands for her because she’s unexpectedly busy with the boys since Vis decided to come pick them up around dinner instead of lunch. And yeah, maybe you had a few things to do with your Saturday already, but she sounded so overwhelmed on the phone.

You could just picture Wanda slumped against the kitchen wall watching Billy and Tommy run circles around her, her sentences rushed as she tried her hardest to be quick with giving you the list of places she needed you to stop by, “Oh, for the last stop, be a peach and pick something out for me. I trust your judgment.”

She said it so innocently, you hadn’t thought of anything of it, noting her errands and setting off to start your drive around town. Each time you mentioned to a shop’s person you were you were picking something up for Ms. Maximoff, their face lit up, perfectly agreeable to help you grab whatever she asked for and praising your helpful nature.

The last place was in the next town over, a small store you’d never paid much attention to. The second you stepped through the door, you realized why.

It wasn't that the lingerie store was tacky or crude, but you certainly felt underdressed in your denim cutoffs amongst the lavish mannequins. You could barely make eye contact with the shop owner while trying to ask for Wanda's order, the older women clearly amused with your struggle.

Upon revealing there was nothing set aside for her, a reminder of Wanda's words mortified you: pick something out for me. For her. Lingerie... for Wanda. On your judgement. To your albeit limited knowledge, the only person she’d worn anything like this for lately was you.

Steam had to be blowing from your ears. If not for the fear of disappointing her, you would've run away.

Suddenly each outfit was visible on Wanda and not only was it impossible to pick, the process of being shown all the details and advantages of every choice by the shop owner left your face hotter than the sun.

As soon as you pick one, you put the purchase on Wanda's tab and sprint with the box to your car. The drive home only makes your anxiety rise, wondering if and how to present it to her, hoping your taste in lingerie isn't offensive; there were way too many racing thoughts.

Finally you settle on just putting the box on her bed and busying yourself with putting as many things from your errands away as you could. But by the time Wanda comes back that evening, you're wondering why you lingered in her empty house for so long. She hadn't asked you to do anything more than complete some tasks for her, certainly not to lurk without purpose.

Wanda doesn't care, thinks it's sweet you'd wait for her return instead of running off to some party on Saturday night. "Here to keep me company, sweet pea?"

You figure saying no sounded rude and it gave you an excuse for being in her home still so you went along with it, rattling off the completed list of tasks and explaining what you'd put where just in case you were wrong about anything. If Wanda noticed how you left out the last shop, she didn't say anything, granting you a bright smile and pulling you in for a kiss that made your heart melt.

"I'll go change into my house clothes, then we can curl up and watch a movie. Give me ten minutes!" As soon as you heard Wanda shut her bedroom door, you remembered the box you left at the end of her bed and you waited with baited breath for a scream, a gasp, any indication that she'd opened the package at all... but none came.

For some amount of painfully long minutes, you heard nothing, leaving you stone still on the sofa, feverishly wiping your clammy hands over your legs. And then, finally, her voice called out from upstairs, "Come up here, please. I need your help!"

She didn't sound mad, just... normal. You didn't know what to expect as you climbed the carpeted stairs, but then as you turned the corner you saw Wanda standing in her bedroom doorway, grinning as she toyed with the sleeve of her new dark blue gown. "So this is the kind of thing you want to see me in?"

The actual dress was a little shorter than she typically wore, ending at her upper thigh, and much lower cut, accenting the slight push the bodice's corseted fit gave her chest. "It was a hard decision. You'd look beautiful in the whole store."

"Well aren't you a charmer," Wanda beckoned you closer from where you fidgeted in place, drawing you in until you were mere inches away. "Let me pay you back for all your hard work today, sweetheart. I'll even show you how to take me out of this once I get tired of wearing it."

#wanda is so silly I wuv her #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fic #milf!wanda au #motts writes. #maximotts

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟒

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Your house is full of people but you are still waiting for him.

Part 3

There were too many people and they were definitely too loud. Your house was full of groups of people scattered in different rooms dancing to some terrible music they had put on, laughing, joking and drinking and the only person you really wanted to be there with you was not there.

At least not yet.

"My room is off limits to all of you!" You yelled as you made your way through the sea of ​​people. "Try to enter and you'll see!"

You weren't sure anyone heard you, though.

You dropped onto the couch in the corner of your livingroom with a sigh as your gaze fell on Aaron talking to Jason across the room.

It came natural to you rolling your eyes at the sight of them; Aaron's smile bothered you more and more every time you saw him and Jason had drunk a disgusting amount of whiskey.

You really wished Robin had come but she told you her mom didn't let her out so late.

At least no one was using the pool outside.

"Hey, Y/N!" Aaron raised a hand to get your attention, yelling to be heard over the loud music. "Aren't you coming to dance with us?"

"No thanks! I'm fine sitting here." You answered quickly.

If you ever danced with anyone, they were the last people in the world you wanted to dance with.

You couldn't wait for that stupid party to be over and everyone to go back to their homes but since they had started arriving around 11pm you were sure they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

You found yourself looking out the window, scanning your garden where some guys were smoking and talking to each other, looking for him.

Because you were still hoping Eddie would show up.

You knew he'd said "maybe" and that didn't mean he'd come but you couldn't help but keep hoping because that hope was the only thing you were holding on to endure that night.

You weren't stupid, you knew he had said he wasn't sure if he would be there or not because of all the other people at the party, like Jason who didn't spend a single day of his life yelling "freak" at him when he saw him in the hallway and everyone who laughed when he did that.

And you wouldn't have been mad at Eddie or disappointed if he didn't show up because you knew his situation but part of you hoped that he trusted you enough to know that you weren't going to let anyone say something bad about him inside your house, that you would always protect him.

At that moment, you saw your cat walking between people's feet and when Aaron almost ran over her as he went to get a bottle of beer from the fridge without even worrying about it, you got up and quickly reached her, taking her in your arms and carrying her to the couch with you.

"I don't like this party either." You said as you put her back down after petting her head, receiving a "meow" in response, and your gaze returned to the window.

This time however there was something different.

A van you knew too well was parked across the road from your house, slightly hidden by a tree.

But it was there.

And it was Eddie's van.

You suddenly stood up as if something had stung you and you headed for the door of your house.

You felt the cool night air on your bare skin as you went outside and you saw the heads of the guys who were still out there turning in your direction, probably wondering if you were leaving your own party.

But you didn't mind about them, because Eddie was there now.

When you reached his van, you circled around it, to find him leaning against its side, facing your neighbors house so no one at the party could see him yet.

"Hey." You smiled.

He raised his head and a shy smile appeared on his lips when he saw you too. "Hi."

You always liked his smile but that one time it wasn't the same as always and you noticed it right away.

"You don't know how glad I am you came." You positioned yourself in front of him and from his expression you understood that something was wrong.

"I can't." He said as he began to play with the silver rings on his fingers.

"You can't do what?"

"I can't come in and you know it." He muttered.

"Eddie-"

"You're you. And I'm me. And there's a lot of people in there. And I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so sorry because I really want to spend more time with you but I can't. I can't if they're there too." He lifted his head and looked at you with his big chocolate brown eyes, reminding you so much of a scared puppy at the side of the road.

"It's okay." You whispered. You didn't know why you felt the need to say it, you just wanted that expression on his face to disappear, that broken look in his eyes to leave, and his usual smile that you liked so much to return.

"Don't be mad at me, please. I just came to tell you how things are. To tell you I really want to, but I can't."

"I could never be mad at you, Eddie."

He gave you that look again and you wanted so much to hug him, hold him close and tell him everything was going to be fine.

"I have an idea." You said instead.

"What?" He frowned.

"I have an idea." You repeated. "We'll only have to go inside for a second."

His eyes were still saying "I can't".

"Please." You reached out a hand to him. "It will be just a moment, I promise." Your voice was tender.

Eddie stared at it like a hesitant animal scared that someone might hurt him.

"Do you trust me?" You asked.

He nodded.

You smiled.

Then he grabbed your hand.

As you guided him to the door of your house, speeding through your garden, Eddie felt like a lamb getting closer and closer to the slaughter, he felt like it was a trap.

He knew you would never do that, that you wouldn't let him in the house just so people could laugh at him but he couldn't shake that feeling that was telling him to turn and run away.

He squeezed your hand tighter and took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold of the door, entering the house.

He quickly noticed some people he'd seen before at school, some cheerleaders, some members of the basketball team from their fifth grade, Aaron and Jason.

Their eyes were all on him.

Suddenly Eddie felt like he was seven years old again, when the kids of his class invited him to a party and he only found out that it had been cancelled when he showed up.

Or maybe there had never been any party.

The only difference was that this time the party was real and everyone was watching him. Holding your hand.

Eddie wondered if you knew what you were getting yourself into, what stupid way you had decided to doom yourself.

You led Eddie through the flood of people seemingly heading to the other side of the house where a corridor led to the other rooms, still holding his hand in yours, giving him just that little bit of security he badly needed at that moment.

A hand on your shoulder suddenly made you turn around.

"What's the freak doing here?" Spat Jason, now in front of you, Eddie could smell the alcohol on his breath even from his position.

The voice in his head kept repeating the word "trap".

"It's my party. So I invite whoever I want. Who invited you, instead? Because I certainly didn't fucking do it."

Jason stared at you with his bloodshot eyes, opened his mouth to say something and then closed it, finding nothing to argue with.

"Exactly." You said before walking past him, not forgetting to bump your shoulder into his as you passed him and pulled Eddie with you, away from the music, the crowd and their prying eyes.

The last thing you saw before leaving the room was Aaron's gaze, cold and fixed on you, as if he was the one of the two who was mad.

He looked like a predator waiting in the shadows for its prey to approach or get distracted to spring forward and attack. For a moment you even thought that he would, that he would go after you.

But he didn't.

You only left Eddie's hand when you opened a door and softly pushed him inside and he immediately began to miss the feeling of safety he only felt when your hand was in his. He glimpsed a cat darting between your legs and sneaking into the room with you before I closed the door.

"It's a little messy but we'll make it right." You said as you sat on the edge of the bed in the room.

That was the moment Eddie realized he was in your bedroom.

It wasn't very big but it certainly was compared to Eddie's room in his trailer, and the walls were covered in posters and drawings.

It wasn't perfect but it was so you.

And maybe for that very reason, in a certain way it was perfect.

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked again looking around, realizing that finally he didn't need to scream anymore to hear his voice since in that part of the house the music was distant and muffled.

"You said you wanted to spend more time with me, didn't you?" You took off your boots and left them at the foot of the bed, then settled yourself with your back against the wooden headboard. "I have plenty of movies that we can see and we have all night since the others don't seem to want to leave." You added by pointing at the small tv in your room.

He liked how you referred to the people at the party as "the others," almost as if it was just you two and "the others" in the world.

Eddie thought that if a month earlier someone had told him that that day he would have been in your room, and you would have offered him to watch movies with you all night while in your own house there was a party going on, he would never have believed it.

"Are you gonna sit or not?" You exclaimed, reaching towards him who was still standing, grabbing his arm and making him fall on the bed next to you.

And Eddie laughed, really laughed for the first time that night.

He laughed because he was grateful that you brought him there with you, that you didn’t leave him with the people at the party and he was simply grateful that you were a part of his life.

At that moment, the cat who had entered the room with you jumped onto the bed and walked slowly towards Eddie, her little paws sinking into the mattress.

The cat sniffed Eddie's hand and he giggled, then ran his ringed fingers through her fur as she began to purr.

You laughed. "Her name is Bones."

"What kind of name is Bones?"

"I found her in the trash can behind my house, some kind of monster had left her there. And she was just skin and bones when I took her home with me, that's where the name comes from." You explained as the cat curled up on Eddie's lap.

"Hi bones." Eddie said as he stroked the space between the cat's little ears. "I like her."

But I like you better.

"She likes you too." You smiled.

Eddie for a moment almost thought you were talking about someone else.

You spent all night watching movies next to him, your shounders touching, going from horror to adventure to fantasy.

You didn't tell him how glad you were that he was there, that he trusted you when he grabbed your hand and that you would have happily spent the rest of your life in your room with him, watching movies and listening to the stupid but funny comments he made from time to time.

You hoped he knew.

You liked the way he interacted with Bones, how he spoke to her in a soft, calm tone of voice and how he gently petted her fur.

When you saw moments like that one, you wondered how people could think he was the leader of a satanic cult, how they could still call him "freak" even though Eddie was the complete opposite.

Sometimes you turned to him, finding the colored lights from the TV reflecting off his face and always the same thought would appear in your head.

He's pretty.

He wasn't in the same way that Aaron was, with his blond hair and green eyes, he was in an unconventional way, in a way that made you want to run your hands through his dark curls and look into his puppy eyes for hours.

It was after three in the morning when you and Eddie realized that there were no more voices, laughter and music.

You both walked out of your room, looking around and finding your house empty and in a complete mess.

Bottles and glasses were scattered everywhere, some even broken into pieces. Crumbs and spilled alcohol covered the floor. There were also some feathers lying around the room so probably someone had had a pillow fight.

"Great. Really great." You commented, already thinking that you would have kept cleaning everything until morning.

You were about to tell Eddie he could go home but he spoke first.

"Where do we start from?" He asked, walking over to the cushions on the floor and picking them up.

Of course Eddie wasn't going to leave you alone.

You couldn't help but smile.

Part 5

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee @bakugouswh0r3 @amira0303 @greatpizzascissorstaco @ebonybloom @emxxblog @lunaryasha @cherryobx @jasminelafleur @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tracymbcm @harrypotter-imaginees @eli-flower @mrsjellymunson @tttttttttttts-things @miabiar @wayfaring----stranger @princess-eddie @omgshesinsane @littlestarfighter03 @zoeymunson @tanyaherondale @bl4ckt00thgr1n @thebook-hobbit @eris-rose-86 @ly17 @jenuhlyn @ximi1315 @avocadotoastwithegg @lomljigg

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

[gurggggleburgle]

Forgive me for being wrong on this but I don't believe it's ever specified between airplane and cucumber who died first and when so for everyone back in the world where pidw exists what is the span of time between there deaths. Because the impression I always get is PIDW probably finished at like a few months to a year after Shen Yuan finished it. And the reason I think this is with a few exceptions when harem novels blow up they only have a limited shelf life before the audience moves on to the next hot trash and I always get the impression that Qinghua was putting this out as fast as he could but also to get it over with so he could actually make something he liked eventually.

So this is my headcannon potentials. They both somehow managed to die literally at the same time in a comedic split screen fashion.

Airplane had actually been dead for months and nobody had noticed because he just finished his book and everyone assumed man was taking a break. Meaning cucumber was yelling at an author that wasn't even there. Powning facts and logic.

Shen Yuan died first after finishing the post and everyone assumes man just moved onto a new thing or whatever. Airplane maybe even replied to his comment and never got response and joked he killed cucumber.

All of these are great but here's the thing that find rife for comedic possibilities. Two prominent internet personalities an author and his biggest anti die in a potentially short amount of time between each other. The internet would lose their mind. I can see the conspiracy drama channel videos now. Someone out there would be like what if airplane and cucumber were in fact the same person.

And people start comparing facts and timelines. Start forming this idea that cumplane was a genius strategy to engage traffic on their work. They're like this one author tricked his entire fanbase and then someone hacks into cucumbers account and oh twist.

It's revealed that it was in fact this trust fund baby named Shen Yuan who died around the same time. Coincidence but weird. And people are like was this a power play. Were they a couple?

Did airplane do murder????!!! Or was it the other way around. Anyway pidw as a book gets buried under this inside joke meme about cumplane and people start accusing antis of just being cumplaners and its a whole thing.

I think that be fucking hilarious and peak internet. And therefore I want to believe that happened in cannon once they both transmigrated.

#svsss #scumbag system #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #sqq #shang qinghua #svsss shitpost #meta #pidw #cumplane #scum villain self saving system #scum villain #headcanon

[hyypnotix-writes]

would you be willing to give a lil blurb/teaser of what you have written? no worries if not

oo!

I'll give you a sizeable little chunk and we can see what the reaction is to that.. 😬

this is definitely subject to change - I've lost count of how many times I've rewritten things!

..Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.  

You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.   

An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.   

This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.   

This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.  

“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.  

“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”   

“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”  

Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you? 

Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.  

It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?  

Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.  

There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead! 

It probably isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.  

How could you not?  

If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.  

Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.  

Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.  

Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that? 

Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?  

Alexia already knows that she didn’t walk out on you because of it.

  

She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? She probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.  

Damn.  

What a loser, you are.  

Shit.  

Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell are you playing at?  

You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?  

That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.  

Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.  

Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  

“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.   

“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.   

“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be..

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader