#and that personal work needs to be done to try and fix them

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, idiot friends to lovers, not exactly a meet cute because they already know each other but it's also not not a naughty little meet cute if you get me, face sitting, 69 just not in the way you might think(yet), lots of horny flirting, mentions of blood, minor injury and one tiny meta reference I couldn't help but slip in. WC: 2K

Say what you will about Carol Perkins but the girl's got one hell of an arm. You stare with simmering contempt in your eyes at your purse wedged between the branches of an old, towering hickory several many feet above your head.

You're not surprised by it though. You expected some kind of retaliation after your little spat when you caught her trying to shoplift lip gloss at the cosmetics counter you worked at.

Word travelled fast after that, everyone snickering about how she tried to pull a Winona. Unfortunately for you, the incident wasn't enough to make her swear off five finger discounts. Her sticky little fingers managed to get hold of your purse when you had your back turned for only a few seconds the next day, a crudely scrawled note left behind which read, Come to the woods behind the school if you want your knock off Gucci back.

So you went there anticipating some fight club type of shit to go down. You really couldn't rule that out with a person like Carol, an old school bully to many who went to Hawkins High, especially those unlucky enough to have actually felt the fiery sting of her open palm against their cheek.

Only you were kind of looking forward to this meeting. Now a graduate and a little fired up yourself, you didn't need to worry about anything like a potential expulsion if you were to strike her back, fixing the rings on your fingers so that if you needed to, you could scratch open her chin when you uppercut the bitch.

But Carol wasn't there, a little to your disappointment. Only her handiwork left behind for you to deal with.

So now here you were, a crackling carpet of brittle yellowed and browned leaves crunching under your converse as you try to figure out the best way to go about retrieving your purse, hoping she hadn't also swiped any of the money inside it.

Looking around, you can't seem to spot a stick long enough to try and dislodge it, all of them far too short and skinny like bony witch fingers. The few rocks you try to aim at the thing missed every time too, purse still firmly in place.

So, you knew what needed to be done.

It's been a while since you last scaled a tree but you haven't forgotten how, hiking the skirt of your flared midi dress higher up your thighs while you reach for the closest branch, dry bark crumbling in your palms.

You're as careful as can be, taking your time to test every branch before you bear your full weight down on it, winding your way higher and higher up the thick gray trunk as you remind yourself to not look down.

Sweat beads down your back making your dress stick to your skin and your hands began to feel raw halfway through the climb so the relief you feel when you finally reach your purse is immense. Freeing one hand to pop open the clasp, you're able to confirm that Carol had in fact pinched a 50 which you very much intend to get back with interest before you toss her purse into the middle of lovers lake.

Clamping your teeth down on your purse, you begin your descent, following the exact path you took to get up it only you make it just a few inches lower when you hear a distinct dry snap followed by the shifty sound of footsteps. Two sets of footsteps making their way through the fallen leaves in fact.

Quietly, you sit yourself down on a thick branch that looks strong enough to hold you up, your legs dangling as you try to remain hidden behind the greener leaves yet to turn a shriveled yellow and break off from its branches. The thought of being caught like this is something you're not keen on. Especially at the risk of giving whoever it is an unobstructed up skirt view of your panties.

You hold your breath until they comes into view, recognition dawning on you when you set your eyes on the familiar combo of leather and denim and a very distinct tumbleweed of wild hair.

Eddie Munson, your old classmate and some letter jacket meat slab following in tow. The two of them sit across from each other at the formerly vacant wooden table and bench below, the tinny sound of Eddie's lunchbox echoing all the way up to your ears when he sets it down between them.

You watch quietly and closely at them going back and forth when Eddie quotes his price for a considerably large portion of the devil's lettuce all wrapped up in a thin, flimsy little plastic bag, a little amused seeing him all business and no jokes or smiles. There must be a party happening tonight, you deduce, that much weed too much for just the one person, even for a guy as big and hulking as Eddie's new customer.

The meat slab is the first to leave after digging through his pockets for a few extra dollars until Eddie hands him the stuff, trudging away through the crisp layer of dried up leaves until his footsteps turn muffled and then completely silent to let you know that he's no longer in the woods.

Eddie lingers for a few moments, apparently in no kind of rush as he takes his time closing up the lunch box, pulling out a cigarette and lighter as he gets up from the bench, just about to pass by your tree when-

crack!

The branch you'd perched yourself on wasn't as strong as you thought it to be when it snaps, a choked scream stuck in your throat with your teeth still wrapped around your purse when you lose your balance, your eyes squeezing shut as you plummet.

The impact knocks the wind out of you at first. Luckily you hadn't hit any of the other branches on your way down but a pulsing dull ache weaves it's way through your muscles, your palms and knees dirty and scraped up but your face seems to have landed on something much softer.

When you try to pick yourself up, you find yourself face to face with a pair of black denim jeans, the zipper somehow upside down as your hands press down on a pair of meaty thighs while you try to steady yourself.

You rock back just a bit, still trying to figure it all out with your head all spinny when feel your clothed pussy come to rest on something hard, a puff of hot air blown right into your panties with a muffled exclamation sounding out.

The way you scramble away is almost comical, so frantic like a severed gecko's tail when you figure out that you'd fallen right on top of Eddie, your face in his crotch and his in yours.

"Oh my god oh my god, I didn't mean to- are you okay? Eddie I'm so sorry!"

He's far less jittery than you are, propping himself up on his elbows with a little groan, leaves tangled in his hair, his lunchbox knocked onto its side behind him. The fall had made him bite his cigarette in two, one end lying on the forest floor before it's joined by the other when Eddie spits it out of his mouth. You manage to find his lighter nearby, picking it up and handing it back to him.

"Still in one piece", he pats his chest and he huffs a laugh, placing the lighter back inside his jacket pocket. "Could get used to this. It's not everyday that it rains pretty women."

The flirt. Just as he'd been with you in high school though you're not sure whether to be charmed or embarrassed given the circumstances. So both emotions manage to sneak in before you can decide on which one.

"I- my purse- Carol, see she tried to shoplift, right? I caught her and so my purse-", you find it just behind you, holding it up in front of Eddie's face as you continue to explain. "She lifted it before I could notice and she tossed it all the way up there," you point up at the spot you fell down from. "I slipped. I tried to stay quiet while you were busy but the branch broke and my foot slipped and..."

And what? "I'm sorry I sat on your face, Eddie? It won't happen again?" God, you felt so stupid right now.

"Woah woah, take a breath. It's not like I'm going to press charges or anything", he assures you.

You knew he wouldn't do anything of the sort. Eddie was always nice to you. Still is it seems, even after you so rudely and abruptly body slammed into him so damn hard. Maybe your luck's starting to turn. Or maybe it's just because he's in a good mood after a big sale... Yeah, that must be it.

Feeling a little better about the whole thing, you manage to get yourself back on to your feet even if a little unsteadily, holding a hand out to Eddie so you can help him up too. He accepts it at first but when his eyes fall to your knees his hand slips free from yours.

"You're bleeding", he notices.

Looking down, you see that he's right, two open cuts on both knees. Nothing serious but the blood is yet to clot, trailing down your legs in thin red lines and staining your socks.

You don't have anything on you to help dab it with, looking around when Eddie begins to shed his denim vest.

"It's clean, promise. Took it out of the laundry this morning"

The gesture is so sweet, watching him attentively as he kneels at your feet. You attempt to help too, picking the leaves out of his hair because it's the least you could do while he carefully cleans away the dirt on your skin. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your calf to steady himself is nice too, pressing the denim against your wounds so gently that you barely hiss at the sting.

"Doesn't look too bad. That's a good thing. You always had nice legs".

Your face could not feel any hotter than it already feels right now. At this angle, he might even be able to catch another glimpse or two up your skirt again but this time you don't mind at all. He's earned it.

"Thanks", you tell him with a smile, your toes curling in your socks because there's something so nice about being taken care of after the the whole thing with Carol that it makes you want to shiver with delight.

In the past you knew not to take him too seriously just in case he was only being nice to you but at the same time, Eddie was never one to be shy or less than honest about what he thought or said. Maybe you just had trouble accepting that and in turn, accepting that you were more than deserving of that kind of attention.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this. I could give you a ride if you're cool with that", he offers when he looks back up at you, the deep brown of his eyes now a light cinnamon with the sun spilling down on his face from between the branches.

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate that", you accept eagerly.

The drive back to yours is more than pleasant, though you'd never actually lost touch it was nice for two high school friends like you to reconnect on a new level. Eddie even joins you in trashing Carol a bit too though now you feel you might actually owe that thieving venom spitting cobra of a woman a little thank you.

What were the chances of this all happening? the both of you in the same place at the same time, your branch giving way the exact moment he got closer to you? no sooner, no later. Whatever the reason might be, today feels kind of special.

"Sorry I messed up your vest", you hold up the bloody thing tentatively when he pulls up outside your house.

"You kidding? 's the best its ever looked. Pretty hardcore"

You giggle at that, part of you realizing that you don't want to leave his van, trying to stall and find a reason to stay a little longer and keep whatever this is becoming going.

Eddie looks back at you pensively as you do so.

He doesn't want you to leave either. He thinks about how absurdly fast he'd gone from securing a deal like any other day to having his nose buried in your panties out of nowhere. If he doesn't act just as fast he might never get this opportunity again.

"Y' know, I wouldn't mind seeing even more of you next time", he smiles, somehow coming on more sweetly suave than sleazy like you would find any other man who would say so.

"Eddie Munson, you hound", you play scold him back, swatting him gently on the arm. Any excuse to touch him. You can't help noticing how nice and firm it feels under that dark layer of leather.

Honestly, Eddie's a little surprised himself that his charm's actually working too but manages to keep it up.

"So, what do you say? dinner? movie?", he suggests hopefully.

"Sure. Dinner, movie and then, when you come back to mine, maybe we can pick up where we left off from when I was on top of you", you wink back.

[fervent-adoration]

I think we need some more villain f/o representation... so, let's have a

VILLAIN F/O ASK GAME!!

Made with romantic f/os in mind. Pro/darkship DNI, please and thank-you! Our viewpoints clash and I would appreciate you finding another ask game to reblog!

What is your favorite personality trait of your f/o? Why is it your favorite? And how does it affect their actions as a villain?

What is your f/o’s most unorthodox act to show love?

What made you fall for your f/o?

How does your f/o show you that they love you? How does it match up with your preferences? (This is basically asking about love languages with more specifics)

Are there any fun facts about your f/o that you want to share?

Why is your f/o a villain rather than a “hero”? How do they see themself in this regard?

Are you a “f/o apologist”, a “I can fix them”, a “I’ll pretend that this never happened”, or a “I could make them worse” sort of partner in regards to your f/o and their villainous actions?

What’s the worst thing that your f/o has done? How do you feel about that? Is it canon to your selfship lore?

What is your dynamic with your f/o? As many dynamic descriptions as you want here!

What role do you play within your f/o’s villainy? A peer? An onlooker? Perhaps the one to try to stop them? What’ve you got?

How does your f/o feel about PDA?

How does your f/o’s past affect the way they approach their relationship with you?

What kinds of dates does your f/o like to go on with you?

What does your f/o visualize for the future with you? How does this align with your view for the future?

How did you win your f/o’s heart? Was it easy? What’s their favorite thing about you, do you suppose?

What kinds of compliments does your f/o give? Why these ones? Do you like them?

Does your f/o encourage you to become actively better, or do they encourage more nefarious behaviors?

Is your f/o good at taking care of things? How are they in a domestic setting?

How does your f/o attempt to impress you? Does it work?

How would your f/o react if they found you upset?

How did your f/o first take to learning about you? Did they ask you questions outright? Observe you when the two of you were together? Word of mouth from others? Or even something else?

Will your f/o do anything for you? What is their limit, if anything?

Was your f/o scared of falling in love?

Free space! Tell us about your f/o in however much detail you wish, and tell us about your favorite aspects of your relationship with them. This is the infodump question.

Feel free to reblog and have people send specific asks, or just fill out all of the questions for yourself!

[ariaxco]

why you're not glowing up (it's not what you think) ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 🎀

you're doing all the "right" things. skincare routine, gym membership, new wardrobe, pinterest-worthy morning routine. you bought the supplements, followed the influencers, saved every "that girl" post.

so why do you still feel exactly the same?

because you're trying to glow up from the outside in. completely backwards.

the girls who actually transform — the ones who look different six months later, who carry themselves like they know something you don't — they didn't start with the aesthetic. they started with the invisible stuff first.

you're still operating from your old identity

here's the thing nobody tells you: you can't dress like her, work out like her, eat like her, and still think like the old you. your brain will sabotage every external change until your internal world catches up.

you'll buy the expensive skincare and still pick at your face. you'll meal prep on sunday and binge by wednesday. you'll set the 6am alarm and hit snooze until 9.

why? because deep down, you still believe you're the girl who doesn't follow through. you still see yourself as the one who starts strong and gives up. you're trying to change your actions while keeping your old story about yourself.

the real work is rewriting that story. deciding you're someone who keeps promises to herself. someone who deserves the life she's building. someone who doesn't quit when it gets boring.

you're avoiding the real work

face masks are easier than facing your patterns. new clothes are easier than new boundaries. gym selfies are easier than sitting with why you actually hate yourself.

the real glow up work is boring:

going to therapy and actually doing the homework

journaling without making it aesthetic

saying no to people who drain you (even when they guilt trip you)

setting standards and sticking to them when someone tests them

sitting with discomfort instead of shopping it away

looking at why you seek validation from people who don't even like themselves

you want the transformation without the mess. but healing is messy. growth is uncomfortable. real change means grieving who you used to be.

you're performing transformation, not living it

posting about your 5am routine doesn't make you a morning person. talking about self-love doesn't mean you practice it. buying the books doesn't mean you read them.

you're performing the aesthetic of change without doing the actual work.

real transformation is invisible at first:

choosing yourself even when no one's watching

doing the work when it's not exciting anymore

building habits so quietly no one notices until the results are undeniable

healing your relationship with yourself before you try to fix anything else

stop documenting your journey and start living it.

you're waiting for motivation to maintain you

motivation got you started. that burst of "new year, new me" energy that had you buying workout clothes and downloading meditation apps.

but motivation is a liar. it shows up when you don't need it and disappears when you do.

discipline keeps you going. discipline is showing up on tuesday at 6am when the excitement has worn off. discipline is choosing the salad when you want the fries. discipline is doing your skincare routine when you're exhausted.

the girls who actually transform? they show up on the days they don't want to. every single time. they built systems that work even when they don't feel like it.

you're trying to skip the basics

you want the advanced routine before you've mastered drinking enough water. you want the perfect morning routine before you can wake up on time. you want self-love before you've learned basic self-respect.

glow ups aren't built on complicated routines and expensive products. they're built on basics done consistently:

sleeping 7-8 hours

drinking water

moving your body

eating food that nourishes you

protecting your peace

keeping promises to yourself

master the boring stuff first. the magic happens in the mundane.

you think time will fix what discipline won't

"i'll start monday." "after the holidays." "when life calms down."

life is never going to calm down. there will always be stress, chaos, reasons to wait. the girls who glow up don't wait for perfect conditions — they create them.

stop waiting for the right time. there is no right time. there's only right now.

the real glow up formula

change your identity first. decide who you want to be, then start acting like her today.

do the boring work. therapy, boundaries, healing, discipline. the stuff that doesn't photograph well.

build systems, not motivation. create routines that work even when you don't feel like it.

master the basics. sleep, water, movement, nourishment, peace.

stay consistent longer than you stayed inconsistent. this is where most people quit.

stop trying to look transformed. start being transformed.

stop performing your glow up for the internet. start living it for yourself.

stop waiting for motivation to save you. start building discipline to sustain you.

your glow up isn't about becoming someone new — it's about becoming who you've always been underneath all the fear, doubt, and other people's opinions.

she was always there. you just forgot how to be her.

[shrewsburysworld]

Would you be willing to do a yandere Sope fic? With a splash of stalking or maybe CEO! Yandere? Feel free to disregard if you aren’t taking requests! If you don’t write for 2 could it be for Hobi? 🩵 hope you’re doing well, I love your work!

Title: On the 42nd Floor

You weren't anyone special.

An assistant in the finance department, bottom tier on the 27th floor, your job consisted of brewing coffee, sorting invoices, and ducking your head whenever upper management passed by. Your boss barely remembered your name. Most of your coworkers didn’t speak to you unless they needed help fixing the printer.

But everything changed when Jung Hoseok said your name.

You’d never even seen the CEO in person before that day. Just photos—sharp jawline, sculpted cheekbones, soft brown hair swept back like he didn’t even try to look that good. In company newsletters, he always smiled politely. In meetings streamed across departments, his voice was smooth and controlled.

But nothing could prepare you for him standing right in front of you.

"YN," he said.

You looked up, wide-eyed and silent.

He smiled. "You’ve been on my radar for a while."

You blinked. "Me?"

His laugh was quiet and low. "Come with me."

And just like that, you were transferred to the 42nd floor.

At first, it felt like a dream.

A personal elevator key. A sleek new desk just outside his office. Fresh flowers every Monday. Hoseok would greet you every morning by name, his eyes lingering a little too long, his compliments walking the line between formal and intimate.

“I like your earrings,” he said once. “You wore them three weeks ago, didn’t you? With a black turtleneck. It suited you.”

You froze.

He remembered?

“Attention to detail,” he added, as if reading your discomfort. “It’s what keeps a company running.”

But the details he noticed weren’t always about work.

You began to sense things. Patterns. Subtle, unnerving shifts.

Your favorite coffee order—without ever asking.

A note on your desk: Don’t forget your umbrella. 60% chance of rain after 5. It rained. At exactly 5:13.

The scarf you lost at the laundromat reappeared in your drawer. Folded. Freshly washed. It smelled like sandalwood and cedar.

Like his cologne.

Then the incidents started.

Your neighbor’s car alarm kept going off at night. You overheard her say she was being stalked. A man you met at a friend’s birthday party offered you a ride home. You hesitated, but accepted.

He never made it to your door.

His tires were slashed. Windshield shattered.

You didn’t connect the dots—until the next morning, when Hoseok looked at you with that gentle, unreadable smile.

“I hope you got home safely,” he said.

Your hands trembled around the paper you were holding.

“I… I did.”

“That’s good.” His eyes crinkled. “Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

You began pulling away.

You were polite. Distant. Less eager to meet his gaze. You didn’t smile as much. You even started searching for new jobs in secret.

And then, like a trap snapping shut, Hoseok began tightening his hold.

Your landlord sent you a termination notice—sudden renovations, no prior warning.

Your parents received a call that you’d been skipping work and showing signs of depression. You hadn’t.

When you tried to take a day off for a mental health break, HR sent you an email within five minutes: CEO Jung would like to personally check in. Please be at your desk by 9 a.m.

It was like he knew everything. Every move.

One evening, you stayed late, hoping to avoid him. He entered the office quietly, just as you were about to leave.

He stood behind you, not saying a word.

“I… should go,” you mumbled, grabbing your purse.

“YN.”

You turned.

He was smiling. But his eyes—those eyes—were too calm. Too still.

“Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?” he asked softly.

You hesitated. “I just… need space.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Then stepped closer. “You can have all the space you need.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers were cold. “As long as you don’t leave me.”

Your breath caught.

“What?”

“I said,” his smile widened, “I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of.”

You ran the next day.

Took a train to a city three hours away. Rented a small apartment under a false name. Burned your work badge. Changed your phone number.

You didn’t tell a soul. You didn’t pack much. You left behind your life like shedding old skin.

It felt like freedom. Brief, shaky freedom.

Until the doorbell rang.

You stared at the tiny screen connected to your door camera.

No one there.

You opened the door hesitantly, heart racing—and saw a box on the floor. White, square, tied with a deep purple ribbon.

Your favorite color.

You brought it inside with trembling fingers. Peeled it open slowly.

Inside: a crystal vase. Filled with lilies. Fresh. Dew-kissed.

A gold card tucked inside.

Your name written in elegant calligraphy.

You opened the card.

One sentence.

“There is no ‘away’ from me. You belong on the 42nd floor.”

---------------------•••------------------

Hey bitches!! I'm back from dead. I know I am late to this request. Sorry!! @living-in-a-daydream-24 but here it is.

And I am back after my internal exams almost killed me 😭

Do y'all need a sequel?? Maybe hobi's pov?

[spookazem]

yes please do ramble my ears off i wanna hear about it please-

OKAY HI! so i'm not the best at explaining things and my wording might seem off at times but i think i should preface by saying telamon definitely was not the best parent. a lot of stuff was absolutely his fault, and i'd imagine that him being a deity could have partly been a reason as for why 1x's upbringing was so different. in my eyes, telamon saw them as more of a creation than his own blood and flesh, something he thought he knew like the back of his hand; he created them, so how would he not? down to what 1x was feeling, thinking- they were the spitting image of telamon. and if anyone knew telamon best, it was. well. telamon. perhaps it didn't register to him that just maybe, 1x was their own sentient being with their own personality, emotions and wants.

1x, in my headcanons, just wanted to be acknowledged and heard. never taken seriously by telamon, they felt very outcasted. most of the things they were taught by telamon weren't things they needed to know that would help them in the long-run, and telamon was also, at the time, very absent because of work. i think that they were very sheltered, probably even isolated, and didn't have anybody to talk to. no outlet or anything. this, overtime, led to very poor coping skills, with no idea how to regulate or manage their emotions. i think you know what this eventually leads up to. on top of this, there was always that nagging fear of failure and not being good enough in the back of their mind. they were the creation of a deity- would telamon settle for any less than perfect, or whatever he had set his standard to? 1x wanted to equate to something, anything at all that made them worth it.

when telamon took on the form of shedletsky, i only think it got more complicated from there. the whole reason telamon changed his identity was to run away from his problems / past, or to stall time to eventually fix it. being hired by builderman and then eventually falling in love with brighteyes would've been a huge wake-up call for him, and thus became the end of an era and the beginning of trying to rectify what he had done. 1x didn't see shedletsky as their dad, or their creator. their creator was telamon, so who was this newfound persona that he had conjured up out of the blue? despite this, shedletsky no longer taking on the role of telamon meant he had more time to spare for them. this would've been a good thing, if 1x didn't spite him for not being there earlier.

i would type more but gooooodness i feel like this is long enough maybe !!! also did some doodles to add to this ....

but thank you for listening if u actually read all of thsi. i don't normally type thought-out headcanons so my wording is probably definitely a little iffy but i hope you enjoy it nontheless !!!

[namelessgoose]

Travel related headcanons for the papas! ✈️🌴

I started these when I had down time traveling a while back and I just remembered I did that so I finished it up and yeah!! This is my first time writing out something like this to post so … be nice 😅

Nihil:

- He throws a bunch of random things in his bag with no sense of organization and then needs someone else to fix it for him and will complain about how they organize it because “he had a system” (there was no system)

- He takes his sweet time in the TSA line, no sense of urgency at all. If his bag gets stopped he immediately starts arguing.

- On the actual trip, he cannot stick to a schedule, he’s the least punctual person in existence.

Primo:

- He’s very preplanned and organized without having to put in much effort. He’s able to pack right before he leaves and packs pretty minimally.

- His bags get through TSA easily, that’s not to say that he doesn’t have anything illegal on him. He has his ways. Don’t worry about it!

- HATES airports. Too many loud people who can’t figure out how to do simple things.

- He doesn’t do anything on the plane. He just sits there. What’s he thinking about? Who knows.

- His trips are generally for business only, he doesn’t enjoy traveling very much. Though, he will stop to see the nature of the area if there’s some.

Secondo:

- Secondo is absolutely an overpacker, but denies it completely. But not in the “i’m bringing 10 pairs of underwear just in case I shit my pants every single day” way, no. Like he’s bringing 5 different kinds of cologne and way too many outfit choices (thinking about that one picture where he’s in that very eccentrically decorated room that was scrapped from Papaganda i believe) And he is able to give serious rationale for everything he brings.

- Hates airports just as much as Primo. His bag gets stopped at TSA every time without fail for absolutely no reason.

- I don’t think he travels much outside of clergy duties BUT if he has to go on a trip for business, he absolutely makes the most out of it… he might get a bit distracted and not fulfill some of the business duties.

Terzo:

- Terzo is packed and planned WELL in advance. He knows exactly what he’s wearing everyday and has alternate outfits depending on the weather. He has all of his essentials and his bag is well organized. He always makes reservations with timed out schedules, but isn’t afraid to deviate from the plan to do what he feels like at that moment.

- Though, he really doesn’t like planes. Not that he’s scared of them, the elevation just gives him a headache. He brings a book to read to try to distract himself, but it usually doesn’t work very well.

- Even if a trip is technically for business, he’s able to make the absolute best of it. I think he’d like to travel for pleasure as well. Honestly, I think he would be the best to travel with.

Copia:

- Unlike Secondo, he is definitely the “packing 10 pairs of underwear just in case i shit my pants every single day” type of packer. Overpacks because you never know what could happen. And even with his overpacking, he definitely forgets something essential and has to get it overpriced at the airport. He also procrastinates packing until the last minute which doesn’t help either.

- Doesn’t like sleeping at hotels. Hell, he has trouble sleeping at home. The cold and unfamiliar hotel room is definitely not going to help him out in that regard.

- He only travels for clergy business, so it’s all planned for him. He tries so hard to adhere to what he’s supposed to do that he stresses himself out. He’s able to get it all done though, despite the chaos.

- His ghouls make sure he lets himself relax and actually enjoy the trip at some point when there’s time so he’s not just overworking himself.

Perpetua:

ngl i don’t have a great grasp on his character yet, i can’t wait until i see him at my ritual!!!

- He seems like the type who comes off very planned and put together, but is totally just going off vibes.

- I have a feeling that those claws aren’t getting though TSA easily

Wow you made it to the end! I’m not really anticipating anyone really reading this lmao BUT if anyone wants any of these ideas developed some more or if you have any of your own travel related hcs for them, feel free to drop something in my ask box :3

[wolfwarrior142]

As someone who relates to Rayla on a ton of personal/internal stuff and has actually seen some improvement in my own massive self confidence issues as a result of seeing her try to work through hers (both in this season and previously) and work on trusting people better, I hate that people are saying that bullshit. Oh no, characters who appear strong because of unhealthy coping mechanisms they've learned now learning how to develop more healthy ones. While also becoming close with those around them as a result. Oh no. The humanity. It's so awful to see. Especially in a show that's technically a kids show. And can maybe help kids. The humanity.

I'm glad I haven't actually seen anyone say that personally, cuz thats a very toxic mindset for people to have and I'd get so...annoyed with it. I'd block em immediately for sure cuz no one needs that bullshit.

people watching rayla learning how to trust / let other people help her, which a lack of was her entire fucking problem in arc 1: is this a bad character arc

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[goldenpinof]

.

[cats-in-the-clouds]

it is unfortunate when i go to prayer and cry my eyes out and the only response i really hear is that i simply have to bear it. like usually i can get my emotions out and once they’re settled i hear a rational solution but it sucks when i don’t get the answer i want. i just have to keep waiting. like normally i hear something that gives me strength but wow apparently i’ve hit a new low

[hear-my-circles-sing]

A dangoling pangolin

[defilerwyrm]

There’s this guy in town who owns this little house, and a while back he rescued a street dog that was going to get put down. Turned out she was pregnant.

Problem is, he has mental health & drug issues and couldn’t afford to get them all spayed & neutered, so now there are 6 grown bitches with 15 puppies total, and they’ve dug under his fence in multiple places but he can’t afford to fix it so they go roaming all around town. (When I say can’t afford it, I mean his house is currently running on a generator because he can’t afford his electric bill.) He’s also a day laborer so he cannot take multiple full days off work to take them to the vet an hour away. He’s in a really rough spot.

He’s not a bad person. He’s just overwhelmed.

And this little conservative town with 6 churches for 300 people, have they tried to help their neighbor? Have they adopted the puppies he’s been trying to give away? Have they offered resources?

NOPE! All they wanna do is talk shit about him and complain about the dogs but never lift a finger of their own. And they come to his house to yell at him and cuss him out about the dogs, which does not exactly engender in him a cooperative attitude, as you might imagine.

So after a while of this going on, my mom gets fed up with all the NIMBY bullshit and starts talking to the guy, because she’s done animal rescue for 20-odd years and has Connections. He’s resistant at first, but when he realizes she’s not being an asshole to him on account of his addiction or the dogs, he decides to let her help.

She gets to work organizing and networking. Finds a non-profit that will cover vaccinations, spay/neuter, and flea treatments for all the dogs. Talks the next-door neighbor into paying for materials to fix the fence, since this guy can do the work of it himself. Gets him in touch with another non-profit that will adopt out the adult dogs.

Less than 2 weeks after she decided to do something, all puppies have been to the vet, 10 puppies and 4 adult dogs have been adopted out, and the second non-profit is coming by next week to pick up the remaining 7 dogs to ship them out for adoption.

I’ve learned a lot of things from my mom—some good, some bad—but I think the most important positive message she lives as an example of is this: sometimes, when something needs done and no one else is willing, you gotta stand up and say “I’ll do it.”

[flowered-mp3]

y'all ever just watch someone self-sabotage themselves to the point where it's hard to watch

[youremyonlyhope]

.

[wewindondowntheroad]

Tonight I’m thinking about the cost of these windows and the sloppy caulk job they did on the outside of some of them 😢

[theogonize]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)