#But at least it’s not like I’m leaving stuff altogether

[lunarzstarz]

Bad Idea E.M

Pairing: Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread)

Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…

A/N: Been in a slump for a while and haven’t had time for writing, finally came up with this and got a bit carried away, definitely gonna be a part two!

As always, likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

Word Count: 6.4K

This was a bad idea. 

The gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you walked through the trailer park, looking out for that familiar mop of frizzy curls or that beaten up van. Your breath curling in clouds in front of you with the cold, clinging to the thin fabric of your jacket and now regretting your choice of outfit. What sane person wears a skirt in the middle of winter? He’s definitely gonna know you’re desperate. However, as desperate you knew you looked, with your short skirt, hair done nicely and perfect makeup, you hoped your plan would work. 

You planned everything down to this moment around a week ago when you had decided you couldn’t leave high school without at least some sort of experience. The thought of going off to college without even having properly kissed a boy was embarrassing to you, it felt like everyone your age had lost their virginity but you. You felt left out when all your friends would laugh and joke about their first time or talk about their experiences, even if they didn’t sound that much fun, you just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. So you turned to your last option, one you’d known you’d probably regret in a few hours but it was better than nothing. 

Eddie Munson wasn’t just know for being the town freak, everyone knew he was a certified fuck boy. You were pretty sure he had slept with over half the girls in your year, it was like a game to him to see how many notches he could get on his belt. He’d fuck them, then never speak to them again, acting like it never happened or that they just didn’t exist altogether. It was almost sad to watch all those girls chase after him, some of them would stop him in the hallways, asking to see him again or “hangout”, to go on dates. He’d just laugh at them or call them by the wrong name, whether it was on purpose or he really did sleep around that much that he actually does forget you don’t know. 

You were starting to lose all hope, you’d been searching for ten minutes around the small area and there was no sign of him anywhere. Then you heard the sound of music blasting, echoing off the trailers to you from the other side of the park, it sounded like the kind of stuff he played in the school parking lot, it had to be him, so you followed it. It leads you to a trailer with Eddie’s van parked right outside. You drew a deep breath, trying your best to settle any nerves that you had and hurried yourself up the path so that you didn’t have enough time to second guess yourself and turn around. 

You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 

You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 

“Alright! I’m coming Jesus chri-” an agitated shout came from inside over the music, it was lowered then the door swung open. Eddie leaned against the doorway, hair disheveled like he had just woken up, even though it was turning six o’clock. He was wearing a tattered Pantera shirt that had some holes in it, revealing some of his fair skin and some grey sweatpants that hung low on his waist, a lit joint dangling from his plush lips. He may have been an asshole, but god he was a hot one. 

“Yes?” he shakes his head at you when you don’t say anything, curls drooping around his face. 

“Weed” you blurt out, muddling up your words “shit- I- sorry, I’m Y/n, I’m here to buy weed, um Chrissy told me you sell and-” you cut yourself off, too much information. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Great not even five minutes in and he’s already laughing at me, so much for trying to act cool. 

“Right” he huffs in acknowledgement, taking a drag from the joint, studying you for a moment before disappearing back into the trailer. You stay put, your body succumbing to numbness with the cold biting at your skin as you wait for him to return, but he doesn’t. “Well, come in, it’s fucking freezing” Eddie calls from inside, so you step past the threshold into the living room shutting the door behind you. 

You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for his return as you took in your surroundings, it was a lot more homely than you thought it would be. Hats and mugs lining the walls, you smile to yourself when you spot the Garfield one, similar to yours at home. The place smelt of a mixture of weed and cigarette smoke, coffee and man all masked with the scent of cheap lemon air freshener. 

There was some shuffling coming from down the hall, then Eddie emerged with a bag in hand, catching you staring at his home. “Maid took the night off” he says, snapping you from your thoughts, making you flinch. 

“Oh- I wasn’t judging or anything I jus-” 

“Well it's certainly not the Ritz” he gives you a sarcastic, tight lipped smile. 

“No, no I like it, it's cozy” you offer him a shy smile, you’re sure he’s received a lot of criticism for where he lives, trailer park trash some of the kids had called him. 

He’d heard it before from the girls he took back here, “it’s nice” is what they would always say with a small grimace on their face, they were only saying it so they could get in his pants, but for some reason he could tell you were being earnest. “Yeah well…here, half an ounce for twenty five.” 

You reached for your pocket to fish out the cash, then pause “Wait, Chrissy said you only charge fifte-” 

“I charged Chrissy fifteen, last time I checked, you’re not Chrissy” he looks you up and down, something about his stare making you shiver. “Twenty five or nothing” he says, holding out his palm and the bag from your reach, looking done with the whole ordeal already. 

You think for a moment, trying to come out with something to say, something that wouldn’t cut this visit short and stick with your plan. “How about if I suck your dick? Will you give me the discount then?” you offer, shocking yourself with your sudden boldness. 

Eddie’s eyebrows raise in slight surprise, then he huffs a laugh. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered him a blowjob or sex or the occasional “I’ll show you my tits” in return for some free weed, wouldn't be the first time he’d taken someone up on it. He was just more surprised it came from you, hadn't expected you to say something like that. 

“I’d much rather prefer the extra ten bucks, thanks for the offer though, but you and I both know you’re better than that princess” he spoke to you in a tone that made you feel dumb, but you’d be lying if you said the nickname didn’t excite you a little. “Now, thirty or nothing” his lips curled into a smug grin. 

You roll your eyes “Fine, twenty five” you pull out your cash and shoved it into his palm, he tosses you the bag. You examine the fuzzy green plant while he counts the money, you’d never smoked before “Could you um- show me how to roll? It’s just I’m not very good at it, I’ll pay extra if-”  

He sets the money aside “Save it, look I’ll show you but after you’re gone, got it?” You nod “Sit down” he motions over to the couch. You took a seat and it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, Eddie taking a seat next to you, shuffling close so that your knees knocked together. You could smell his cheap cologne and musk that had been overpowered by the joint he was still smoking through the whole interaction. 

“Here, take this” he passes it to you “Now I’m only gonna do this once, so watch closely.” He lifted the grinder and started the process, you’re doing as he said and watching closely. “Don’t let it go out” he snaps at you, so you place the joint between your lips and puff on it like you’d done with cigarettes. Bad Idea. You start choking on the thick, strong smoke, not being used to it. 

“Jesus Christ-” he gets up and heads to the kitchen grabbing a glass and pouring water into it, racing back over to as you finish your spluttering. “You’ve never smoked before” he says more like a statement than a question. 

“What gave it away?” you croak out, thanking him for the water before taking a sip, he laughs a little. 

“I don’t know, maybe you almost choking to death? Better?” he asks once your breathing is normal again, you nod. “Here, try again, only a little” he instructs, you hesitantly hold the joint up to your lips again and take a small drag of the smoke, holding it in your mouth. “Right, now inhale” you do as he says, the smoke filling your lungs, catching your throat slightly but not as bad as the last time. 

You exhale “Better?” he asks again, returning to his spot next to you. 

“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.” 

“Nobody does, now watch” he says, picking up one of the rolling papers and starting the process over. You do try to pay attention like he said, but with each extra drag you took it became harder to focus, your attention wandering to him. Eyes straying to stare at his ringed fingers, his face, lips, his tongue poking out between them in concentration or when he licked along the paper to seal the joint. 

By the time he’s finished you feel light, not too high, but it has definitely made you relax, taking up more space, your bare thigh flush with his clothed one. “Thanks” you say a little breathless as he passes it to you, taking his back. You toss it over in your palm, examining it, he’d perfectly wrapped the plant, it made you wonder what other things those hands could do besides roll joints and play guitar.

“You should go now” he sighs, stretching out and laying back on the couch, spreading his legs to take up more room. 

“I should…” you drawl, about to get up and cut your plan short, no you’ve come this far already “But before I do, I need to ask a favor.”

He scoffs “I don’t do favors” he says, taking the final drag, giving you an unamused look. 

“Look, can you atleast hear me out?” you beg, he doesn’t say anything so you take that as a sign to continue. “It’s just- I know you have this reputation-” 

“I don’t fuck virgins” he interupted you, placing the roach into the ashtray “Not anymore.” 

“I didn’t even finish- I- how do you even know I was gonna ask that and how do you know I’m a virgin?” you say, trying to hide how guilty you looked. You hated how he read you like a book, how he knew that’s what you were here for even if your plan was just that, you hated that you really had been that obvious. 

“Well you all have this…look” he shrugs. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“And you showed up here, unannounced may I add, in that short skirt in the middle of winter, looking all pretty and shit, wanting to suck my dick for free weed, you’re all the same, it’s funny really” he finishes, a smirk pulling on his lips. 

You tried to ignore the fact that he had called you pretty “For the record, I didn’t want to suck your dick” you muttered low, but he caught it, his smile growing. 

“See, you didn’t deny that I was right, you may as well stuck a sign on your back saying fuck me” he retorts, you could tell he was having fun getting under your skin. 

“Fine! You want to know the real reason I came here?” you snap. 

“Oh please sweetheart do tell” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans his head in his palm, acting like he was really interested with what you had to say. You glared at him, despite the fact you knew he couldn’t care less about why you were here, you continued anyway. 

“I leave for college soon, I just didn’t wanna go being a frigid fuck okay! I just wanted to do it before I left so I didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted to just lose my virginity then move on, no strings attached and seeing as you’re known for fucking basically anything that moves I came to you as a last resort. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You finish with a long sigh, folding your arms and falling back into the cushions. 

He’s almost stunned for a moment, then finally responds “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but like I said, I don’t fuck virgins, so I’m afraid your gonna have to finish your quest elsewhere.” 

“Why not?” you practically whine, maybe you were desperate, he was thoroughly enjoying it though. 

“They get all clingy after, hard to get rid of, expect me to be all nice and sweet and romantic” he says the word with a grimace, like it hurt him to even say it. 

“Well lucky for you I’m not looking for you to be sweet or romance me, trust me I knew that before I got here” you scoff “Look all you have to do is fuck me and I’ll be on my way.” 

“You wound me, I can be sweet” he screws his face up in faux hurt you just roll your eyes “If I wanted to that is, besides that’s what they all say, then they come crawling back for more, I’m just that good” he says with a cocky grin. 

“Oh please, you’re probably not even that good at it” 

He narrows his eyes at you “Oh you are good at this.” 

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” of course you knew what you were doing. 

“Oh you most certainly do, I know what game you’re playing sweetheart and it’s not gonna work” 

You stand up to leave, brushing yourself off and reaching for your bag of weed “No, no, if you don’t want to fuck me that's just fine.”

It was the perfect angle for Eddie to catch a glance up your skirt, stealing a peek at your cotton underwear and the wet patch that accompanied them. He smiles to himself. It had been a few days since his last hook up, he was running out of options, he’d already fucked a few people that he enjoyed a handful of times, he’d didn’t wanna go back to them again, god forbid they start thinking they’re special. Maybe he should give you a chance. 

“Now, I didn’t say I didn’t want to” he grabs your wrist, not too tightly, easing you to sit back down, this time in his lap “You swear you’ll leave me alone after, no bullshit?” 

Your confidence from earlier now dwindling from sitting on the edge of his knee, you swallow “I swear, you won’t even have to look at me again.” 

That was apparently all the confirmation he needed because in an instant he was on you. He started off slow, pressing his lips softly against yours with small pecks, not what you were expecting. His hands came to rest on your waist, even though your shirt you could feel the burn it left behind on your skin, you kept your hands to yourself, not knowing where to touch. 

Eddie must’ve sensed this “Here” he mumbles against your lips “Like this.” He pulled back, guiding you to face him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips so that you were straddling him, cores flush together. He slid your jacket off your shoulders and tossed it aside, stroking down your bare arms until he reached your wrists, lifting them to rest your palms against his chest. You run your hands over the expanse of his clothed chest to his shoulders then back again feeling his warmth, looking back at him, he’s watching you intently “Better?” 

“Mhm” you nod, not trusting yourself to speak right now.

“Oh come on, don’t go so quiet on me now, I was quite enjoying your little games” he teases, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, starting to venture down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. 

“I-it’s better” you breathe out, you’d never been this close to anyone before. 

He starts placing wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel him suck onto you, not too harsh at first, testing to see how you respond. You let one of your hands slip up behind his head to tangle your fingers in his messy curls, pushing him further into you. Taking this as a hint he sucks harder earning a gasp from you, feeling his smug grin spread across your skin. 

You pulled him back, noticing the way he groaned, he liked when you tugged on his hair, you’d remember that. It was clumsy, but you crashed your mouth onto his and instead of him making a comment on how bad you were at making out, he quickly corrected you, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before you let him in. It was easier than you thought, the way you got the hang of it quickly following his movements as you explored each others mouths, both of you tasting the shared joint. 

Eddie’s hands that rested on your hips trailed down your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he slipped them up the back of your thighs, groping at them, pulling you impossibly closer. You could already feel the hard on growing beneath you, his hands slipping further up your skirt to cup your ass and use it as leverage to grind you against him. 

“Oh-” you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his at the feeling, your clothed clit brushing against him. 

“That feel good?” he asks, doing it again, harder this time. 

“Y-yeah” you let out a shaky breath and then he’s leaning up to kiss you again. Each drag against your core felt better than the one before, he had you gasping as he ground his hips up into you, groaning against your lips when he felt you start moving on your own. He returned his hands to your waist, letting you move at your own pace, mouthing at any skin he could get at. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging on the hem of your shirt. He felt you stop, eyes shooting open to look at him, he could see the hesitation. 

Nobody had ever seen you like that before “Okay, but- just” you couldn’t find the right words. He’d slept with lots of girls, all kinds, you knew that he wouldn’t judge you or at least you hoped he wouldn’t. 

“What?” he stops, sensing your sudden unease. 

“I- look just don’t judge me okay?” you reach for the bottom of your shirt and he stops you. 

“Why would I do that?” he looked sincere, but the Eddie you heard of, you didn’t think he was capable of such things. 

“I don’t know, it’s just nobody has seen me naked before, and I know you’ve seen a lot of girls, just don’t want you thinking I look weird or something…” you avoid looking at him, oh god what if he thinks I’m weird…

“Listen, I’ve seen you with clothes on and you look pretty fucking hot to me and you’ll probaly look even better naked and as far as weird goes unless you have some third tit I don’t know about, which I’m sure I’d still be pretty into, then you have nothing to worry about.”

You both burst into a fit of laughter at the third tit comment, but it makes you feel alot better and at ease. “Well, no, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t” you say through your laughter. 

“Okay then, let’s see them” he says, the laughter dying down. You reach for your shirt and pull it up over your head, throwing it aside to join your jacket.

When you look back down Eddie’s smiling at you, well at your boobs, it makes you laugh again “I thought you’d get tired of seeing them by now” you quip, he looks back at you. 

“Trust me, I don’t,” he reached up to cup them, giving them a firm squeeze in their cups before reaching one hand around to unclasp your bra, removing it in record time. He looks up at you, like he’s waiting on something. 

“What? You want me to applaud you?” you tease. 

“Maybe, was thinking I deserve more than that though, maybe a prize?” 

“Maybe if it was your first time, but I know you’ve had plenty of practice, how many girls have you shown that trick to?” you cock your head at him, you enjoyed teasing him “I’ll get back to you though if they make a prize for the worlds cockiest bastard though.”

He rolls his eyes at you “Alright are you here to chit-chat or fuck me?” 

You felt his cock through the thin fabric of your underwear and his pants, he was hard as rock now, your confidence growing, you grind down against it. His eyelids flutter, head resting on the back of the couch “Do that again.” 

So you do, going back to what you were doing moments ago, quickly falling back into rhythm. Eddie grabbed and groped at your chest, kissing all over the new exposed skin, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth making you mewl. He sucked and nipped and caressed every inch he could get at until you were a whining mess.

“Please Eddie” you moan, hands raking through his hair.

“Here or the bedroom?” He asks, pulling off of your chest that was now covered in faded red marks and spit.

You chose the latter. He mumbled for you to hold on, picking you up and carrying you from the couch to the room down the hall.

He placed you down on the bed, you lay in the middle, head propped up on the pillows, looking around the room. It was messy, clothes scattered around the floor, books and sheets of paper with scribbled down lyrics, one had words on it that looked like a love song, you smile to yourself. How ironic.

Your attention is brought back to him when he starts to remove his shirt, revealing all the ink that was hidden behind it, you were taking it all in. You also notice the wet patch on his sweatpants where you had been sitting, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment “I’m sorry…” 

He looks at you confused, then notices what you’re looking at and that smug grin returns “It’s all good” he comes back over to the bed, climbing on to lean over you “Another thing about virgins” he starts, undoing the zipper on your skirt and looking up at you for confirmation and continuing when you nod. He pulls it off leaving you in just your underware, his grin spreading when he sees that your fucking soaked “They get wet so easily.” 

“Is that bad?” you ask, looking to find your underwear absolutely ruined. 

“Fuck no, it’s good, really good” he hooks his fingers into the waistband “Can I?” 

“Yes, please” you reply, desperate for him to finally touch you. 

He pulls them off of you, shutting your legs at the sudden cool air hitting your dripping folds. “Just gotta get her warmed up first though, don’t wanna hurt her” he says, guiding your legs apart. You were confused on what he meant by her, but soon caught on that he was talking to your cunt, flushing at the realization. 

He got level with it, you felt so vulnerable like this, his face inches away from your center. “W-what are you doing?” you ask, as he placed soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. 

“Do you trust me?” he pauses, resting his head on your leg. 

“Not in the slightest” you tried to bring that teasing side out again. 

“Good” he smirks up at you “I promise it will feel good, haven’t had a complaint yet.” 

He sees that uncertainty again and takes your hand “Hey, I promise” he tries again and for some reason you believe him. The way he looked at you, it made you feel different. Eddie wasn’t what you had expected, a lot softer, more caring, sweet and nothing like the rumours you’d heard. Perhaps it was because of the comment you made earlier “I can be sweet…if I want to.” He wanted to be sweet with you, but how many other girls had he been sweet with? Maybe he was just being like this to prove a point, you had to remind yourself you wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last. You weren’t special, he was only doing this because you begged him to, because you were desperate like all the other girls before you. You had to remember that. 

“Always wondered if you’d taste as good as you looked” he says, looking up at you from between your thighs. Always? You were so sure Eddie didn’t even know who you were until about thirty minutes ago, even if you did go to the same school, it was almost like he’d been thinking about you for a while. No. You told yourself that wasn’t what he meant. 

You weren’t given enough time to over think his choice of wording anymore, not when you felt his tongue press against your entrance before licking a long strip all the way up your center to your sensitive clit. 

“Holy shit!” you practically scream, your hand flying up to cover your mouth, you hadn’t been expecting it to feel like that. It was different, but a good different, fucking brilliant different. Your reaction only fueled his ego, so he continued lapping up everything you gave him. The sounds were lewd. You’d feel embarrassed if it hadn’t felt so good. 

You looked down to find him already staring up at you with those big brown eyes, grinding his hips into the mattress below you. He sucked onto your clit, tugging on it and pulling off with a pop “Come on, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He reached up to pull your hand away, placing it by your side “I like it when they’re loud, it’s good for the reputation” he gives you that cocky grin and you glare at him, but before you can think of something to say back, he’s diving back in again to devour you like a man starved. 

You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, but everything hits you tenfold when he slips one of his fingers into you making your back arch. His touch felt so good, he definitely knew what he was doing, you were beginning to understand why all those girls came crawling back even after he treated them like shit. 

You felt his second finger push into you and with his hands being bigger than your own, the stretch was there, the slight pressure building, but he’s quick to ease you through it. “Oh fuck- Eddie please I’m gonna-” you’re cut off when he latches onto your clit again, curling the two fingers up into your sweet spot, leaving you moaning his name like a prayer. 

Your hands reach for his hair, your grip tight, tugging on his scalp making him groan into you adding to the mix, making you tip over that edge. Your thighs closed around him, he didn’t mind though, he relished in the feeling of you grinding against his face as you rid out your high. “Fuck-” you whimper, he wasn’t stopping, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could. It was entirely different to any you’d given yourself, stronger, you felt it through your whole body, like electricity running through your core. 

You had to pry him away when it got too much, your thighs trembling with the oversensitivity. Your head falls back onto the pillows, breathing unsteady. “That was-” you couldn’t even find the words. You open your eyes to find Eddie hovering over you with that smug grin, lips puffy and chin glistening with your arousal. 

“Still don’t think I’m any good?” he leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself on him, it made you ache. 

When you finally came back down from your high, you were grabbing at him, his hair, chest, arms, waist, anything to bring him closer. You wanted more, needed him inside of you. You let your hands wander, sliding down the expanse of his stomach to the trail of hair at his waistband, he pulled back. 

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks, brushing away the stray hairs that had stuck to your forehead. 

“Yeah, I’m ready” he gives you one last peck before getting up to remove his sweatpants, opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out a foil packet and tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the condom down his legnth. You were staring at it. You’d never seen a dick in person, so maybe it was just because it was your first time, but he was big. It was definitely gonna be a stretch, you’d heard from others that the first time is almost always painful. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, sitting on his knees between your legs, hiking them up around his waist, his cock resting against your folds. 

“Y-yeah, I’m okay” you swallow, diverting your eyes back to his. 

“It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but if you need me to stop at any time just let me know, ‘kay?” he was rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the pad of his thumb, trying to get you to relax again. 

“Okay” you nod, voice weak as he starts sliding his tip through your folds, nudging your clit, earning small gasps from you. It catches on your entrance and you screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was coming. He pushes into you, one inch at a time, going slow and watching you for any signs of discomfort or pain. 

The stretch was there, feeling like a dull ache, but nothing like you were expecting. “Just relax” Eddie’s voice made you release the breath you were holding. 

He pushes over half his length into you and you whine, the ache growing a little, but you loved it, you wanted all of him. “Please Eddie” you reach for him, bringing him closer to you, pushing the rest of him inside as he comes face to face with you. You’d never felt so full. 

“Fuck- you can’t just do that” Eddie groans as he bottoms out, feeling your tight walls stretch around him. He was leaning over you, using his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in, watching your face contort beneath him as you adjusted to his size. “Look at me” he whispers, so close you could feel his warm smokey breath on your neck. You open your eyes and he smiles down at you “How’s that feel?” 

“Big” you sigh, the air having been knocked out of you, he laughs. 

“I’m gonna start moving now” he warns you before pulling his hips back slowly, his cock dragging over spots deep inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Eddie starts his slow, languid pace, pulling out and thrusting back into at a painfully slow speed. He kisses all over, cheeks, lips, neck, chest, easing in and out, checking in on you, it feels great, but you need more. 

“Can you go a little f-faster?” you gasp, his tip nudges over your sweet spot. 

“Don’t wanna- shit- hurt you” he curses when he feels you squeeze around him, struggling to hold himself back from doing what he really wanted to. 

“Please, I can handle it” you plead “I want it harder, please” voice going up an octave as his hips snapping into you. 

“Don’t think I’d be able to stop if I do Sweetheart, are you sure?” 

“Yes! Please, just- just fuck me already” you huff, frustration building. 

He pulls all the way out until it is just his tip inside, then slamming back into you with brutal force. Your back arches off the mattress, hands twisting in the comforter beneath you as he starts fucking into you at an animalistic pace that had you seeing stars. 

“B-better?” he pants, head falling into the crook of your neck. Maybe it was a praise thing with him, maybe that's why he slept around so much, the validation. 

“Fuck- s-so much better” you cry, hands reaching up to run along his back, nails digging into his pale flesh when you feel him start to bite on your neck, sucking a bruise into your pulse point. With each thrust, he rocked his hips against you, the coarse hair at his base grinding against your clit. 

You slid a hand up along his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, finding purchase in his hair, tugging on it harshly earning satisfied moans from him. “Christ- You feel so tight, fucking pussy is taking me so well” he pulls away from your neck, meeting your fucked out gaze. 

“Oh my- feels so good Eds, so close” you slur, drunk on his cock, the feeling of him pounding into you, abusing your sweet spot and the wet sounds echoing off the walls, had you hurtling to your impending orgasm. He reached behind and grabbed the back of one of your knees, pushing it further up, hitting you at a new angle that had you chanting his name like it was the only word you knew. 

“That’s it, shit- squeezing me so fucking tight baby, you gonna cum?” he rests his damp forehead “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 

You don’t even have time to find the words, your release hitting you like fucking truck. Your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you let the pleasure rattle through your entire body, your ears ringing. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, feeling your slick walls clamp down on him making him spill his load into the condom. 

He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping to catch your breath. You’d never felt anything so amazing, your head was light, your whole body felt like it was on fire. You blink up at the ceiling, Eddie’s face planted in your chest, heartbeat racing. 

A moment passes and you’ve never felt more content in your life, running your fingers through his hair as you both lay there, too spent to move, coming down from your highs. You felt him shift beneath you, pulling out of you making you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck” he lets out a long sigh, rolling over to lay next to you. 

“That was incredible” you laugh, suddenly all giddy inside, turning on your side to watch him. He stood up, peeling off the condom and throwing it into the trash before picking up his discarded pants, slipping them back on and grabbing a cigarette from the table next to you. He offers you one which you take, it seemed like the right thing to do. 

He disappeared down the hall, so you stayed where you were, puffing anxiously, he still hadn’t said anything. He returns a moment later, your clothes in hand, picking up the other scattered items from the floor and handing them to you. “Well this was nice and all, but I have company coming over, so you know...” Oh. 

“Oh, yeah, right, sorry” you took the hint and got up, a small ache settling in your core. You silently changed back into your close, trying to ignore all those negative feelings that threatened to arise. Not now You told yourself. You knew this was going to happen, this is how it was always going to be. You had been preparing for this before you had even got here, it’s just how Eddie was, it wasn’t gonna change just for you. Though you had hoped that he’d even lay with you for just a little while or call you pretty one more time. 

Once you were fully dressed, you checked yourself in the mirror, hair disheveled, smudged mascara and lip gloss, the purple bruises forming on your skin. You try your best to look at least half decent before you leave. Eddie clears his throat behind you and you fight the urge to hit him, he was giving you whiplash with how quick he went from being sweet and concerned Eddie to a complete and total douchebag. 

You leave the room, him following closely after you. You grab your bag of weed from the coffee table and turn to him one last time, trying not to show anything other than that you were completely normal about this whole encounter. You’d tried to think of something smart to say, but nothing came. “Thanks for the drugs and well you know…” you divert your eyes to the door, noticing the rain “shit.” 

“Well, better get home quick, looks like a storm is coming” Eddie sighs, opening the door for you. 

You clung to your very thin and very absorbent jacket, giving him one last hateful stare before stepping out onto the porch. “See ya, asshole” you mutter the last word, hoping he didn’t catch it as you walked out into the rain. You knew this was how it was gonna end, you just thought you would have enjoyed it for even a moment longer, but here you were in your soggy shoes and drenched jacket, shivering with the cold, your thoughts eating you up inside as you start you long walk home. 

[ultrone]

just saw your hcs about fuckgirl!nat and they were so good that got me thinking... what if she fell in love with reader? how would nat convince R that she wants more than a few nights together?

⨳﹙❤️‍🩹 ♰﹚fuckgirl!nat falling in love w reader

omgg i love this thought <33 — context

at first, she'd ignore it, avoiding thinking about it altogether. she liked doing her own thing, so admitting her feelings, even to herself, wasn't her style. deep down, though, she knew. but whether she admitted it to herself or not, you didn't pay much mind, since she kept her cool as always.

then, a conflict started brewing inside her. on one side, she craved a real connection with you, but on the other, she preferred independence and shied away from commitment. sometimes, she'd ponder over it while watching you sleep peacefully beside her. but once she left your dorm, she'd throw herself into other things to keep her mind off it.

but gradually, she began showing her feelings through actions instead of words, even if she didn't intend to.

the first thing that gave it away was that she didn't call it quits with you after the two weeks mark. she brushed it off, saying she just really enjoyed being with you—sexually, of course. but who was she kidding? she didn't even last a week with the hottest girl on the hockey team.

around the third week, she started sleeping in. that was unusual for her; she usually slipped out before her fling woke up, or at least tried to. but now, she lingered, whether it was staying in bed longer or sitting by your window to smoke. whenever you woke up, she was there.

she cared about her self-image, though, so she tried not to do anything that seemed inconsistent with her usual behaviour. so even though she was doing these things, she'd play it off like, "my roommate’s being annoying these days. don’t feel like heading back if that's cool with you lol," and then end up staying over the entire week 😭

at first, whenever she noticed you were awake, she'd just leave without much conversation. but as time went on, you two started talking. it began with small talk, but then turned into long conversations. slowly, she started opening up to you, sharing things she hadn't with any of her previous flings. they weren't too personal, just stuff like her favourite songs, opinions on certain topics, even her favourite disney princess—yeah, she has one. it might've seemed trivial, but it meant something.

but alongside this, she started sending you mixed signals; sometimes she'd be affectionate and intimate, but then she'd pull away and act distant. the more she shared with you and the closer you got, the more distant she became at times. once, she didn't even come over for a whole week.

naturally, you started to worry because now you felt closer to her than ever before.

“it’s not that deep bruh, i’m just busy with homework. don’t feel like screwing tonight anyway,” she’d say. and her words stung, because you didn't see her as just a fling anymore. but maybe you misjudged her, and the rumours were true. maybe she really didn't give a shit.

so, of course, you started pulling away too. even when she tried reaching out and acting like she hadn't been a jerk, you kept your distance. you ignored her texts and calls, locked your door at night, and avoided her on campus.

eventually, she got the message and left you alone, moving on to the next person.

nat never admitted it, but after things ended between you two, she hardly felt satisfied with anyone else. she'd pretend she was, but truth be told, whenever she closed her eyes, she'd think of you. the sounds you made, the way your skin felt against hers, your hitched breaths against her ear—it was only when she thought of you that she'd climax.

she’d also remember those mornings you spent together, her fingers through your hair while you slept, stopping as soon as she felt you stir.

though there was still no contact, you couldn't help but notice her from afar. catching her staring at you often, she'd quickly look away, but it happened too frequently to be coincidental. it happened in the cafeteria, the locker room, even the library—what was she doing there anyway? she didn't even study.

it wasn't until some other girl got overly touchy and flirty with you at a party that nat finally reached out.

 ୨   ﹙ 🦇 ﹚drabble ୧  

natalie, nursing a cheap beer in her hand, watched with silent fury as the girl wrapped her arms around you. she cursed to herself, taking a swig of her drink to calm her nerves. it was ridiculous how possessive she felt. she knew she had no right to feel jealous since she'd never even made her thoughts known to you, but there it was–jealousy bubbling beneath the surface. angry at herself, natalie pushed through the crowd, stepping between the two of you.

"excuse me," she interrupted the interaction, the other girl stepping back in surprise. her voice held a dangerous undertone, the mocking tone replaced by a sharp edge. "she’s with me."

with a forceful grip on your arm, natalie pulled you aside, leading you towards the balcony. the cool air outside felt refreshing in comparison to the warm, stuffy atmosphere indoors. she pushed you up against the railings with little effort, standing so close that her body almost brushed up against yours. her breath hung heavy in the still air, her grip tight around your arm.

“so,” she said, her tone soft yet menacing at the same time. “are you with her?”

"so?" you retorted defiantly. "why do you even care?" your words sounded harsher than intended, but you were growing annoyed. she had ignored you and now acted possessive? no fucking way.

her grip tightened around your arm, the change of tone in her voice making her serious. "don't play dumb," she said forcefully. "just answer the question."

"i'm not playing dumb, and screw you," you said angrily, moving your hand away from her grip and pushing her away. "you treated me like shit and then acted like nothing happened, and now you're being all territorial?" you asked incredulously. "what's your fucking problem? do you have any idea how much pain you put me through when you ghosted me?"

she stepped back, surprised by your sharp words. for a few moments, she stood still, seemingly stunned by your response. her face remained expressionless, but from the quick way her gaze darted to the ground, she appeared to be caught off guard. eventually, she straightened up, a bit of coldness settling in her demeanor.

"my problem?" she replied. “you’re my fucking problem!”

"why the fuck would i be the problem?" you demanded, your voice rising slightly.

"why would you be the problem?" natalie echoed, her voice tinged with frustration. "because every damn time i try to move on, i see you everywhere. i hear you and think of those days we spent together. every time i try to just go and be with someone else, i’m always thinking of you instead."

you stood there, taken aback by natalie's raw confession. her words hung heavy in the air, punctuating the tension between you. "shit, natalie," you said, your voice softer now, your anger dissipating into a mix of frustration and empathy. "why didn't you say something? we could have talked about this."

"i couldn't," she admitted frankly, her expression softening slightly. a brief silence followed, the sound of traffic below filling the air. "i was scared," she confessed. "i've never felt this way about anyone. and you know my reputation, i don't exactly fit the 'girlfriend material' mold," she added with an ironic chuckle.

"so, i stayed away," she went on. "i convinced myself i could just stick to the usual. have a fling, move on, forget. but it never worked." there was another pause, this one lasting longer than it should. the atmosphere between you grew heavy, almost like a weight pressing down. "i’ve been trying to move on from you for so long," she confessed, "but no matter how many other people i tried to be with, no one ever measured up. nothing felt the same."

"the way i could just watch you for hours as you slept beside me, the way i always looked forward to sneaking into your dorm at night, the way my hands trembled when you touched me, or the way my heart raced every time i thought about you..."

she had to pause to gather herself, her voice starting to crack and falter as she continued. "i was scared to feel that, so i avoided it."

a heavy silence hung in the air as nat took a deep breath, finally calming down.

"then i realized," she continued, a newfound seriousness in her voice. "that no matter how many shitty one-night stands i had, no matter how many random people i tried to distract myself with, none of it mattered. i would always come back to you, to those feelings that i've tried my damn hardest to run away from."

she stepped closer, her voice lowering to a barely audible whisper.

“but now, i'm willing to put all that aside, because i know what i want."

as nat finished speaking, her words hanging in the charged air between you, she closed the distance between you with a determined step. without hesitation, she reached up, gently cupped your face in her hands, and pressed her lips softly against yours. the kiss was tender yet full of the intensity of her emotions, conveying everything she couldn't put into words. you couldn’t resist returning the kiss, missing the familiar taste of her lips, like cheap beer and cigarettes. as she pulled you closer by the waist, you wrapped your arms around her neck.

"i want you," she continued after breaking the kiss, her voice firmer and more certain. "i want to be with you. i know i haven't treated you fairly, i know i've made a lot of mistakes, but i promise i'm willing to change all that."

you looked into her eyes, searching for any signs of dishonesty, but found none. “if you ever hurt me, i swear i’ll fucking kill you, natalie,” you said seriously. "i'm not just a toy for you to play with, do you understand?"

"i'm never going to hurt you," she replied softly, her hands still gently caressing your waist. "i know i've been a jerk, i know i've been distant, but trust me, i'm not going to do that again. not when you mean this much to me," she said sincerely.

"you mean it?" you asked, feeling the tension in your chest release as you saw the honesty in her eyes. "you're not going to disappear like you did last time?"

"i promise i will never break your trust again," she said solemnly. this time, her words sounded more genuine, as if she believed them herself. she tightened her grip on your waist and continued, "from now on, i’ll always be upfront with you, no matter how messy or hard it gets. i won't give you any more mixed signals."

“well, looks like i’ve gotta believe you now,” you said, suppressing a smile. “i'm ready to trust you again; let's just hope it works out this time.”

the two of you stood in silence for a while, soaking in the moment and each other's presence. you couldn't help but notice the faint smile on natalie's face, as if she was just as relieved as you were to be together again. then, she finally broke the silence.

"so, does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?" she asked, a playful smile spreading across her face.

“all yours,” you replied, pulling her into a deep kiss, which she eagerly returned.

[sinsandsweetness]

Girl I have a weird fantasy about Daryl being a trucker before the world ended, like he’s older and picks me up on the side of the road after I’ve left home and tells me if he’s gonna take me where I want I go, I’ve gotta give him somthing to make it worth it.

Then giving him sloppy road-head and getting fucked in the cab till I’m dumb

Absolutely love your writing babe 😘

I actually rlly love this. especially since I’ve dated a truck driver who looks like young Norman and will literally sleep the whole time in the cab when he goes on jobs…

I imagine you sitting in the passenger seat, cross legged and snacking on some licorice from a gas station. You’re almost 6 hours into the drive. Still another two nights until you’re in the state you actually want to be in. Nice and far from all the bullshit you’re running away from.

Daryl keeps glancing over at you reading your book, leaned up against the window. Paying special attention to how short your denim cutoffs are and how tight your white tanktop is. Leaving almost nothing to the imagination. The thought dawns on him that in two hours, when the sun has set and both of your eyelids are getting all heavy, he’ll have to pull over at a rest stop. And when he saw you with your duffel bag and your bright red boots, sticking your thumb out as you walked along the shoulder of the highway, he didn’t think about the fact that there’s only one bed in the cab. One, tiny, little mattress, and two of you. You’re way too far in the middle of nowhere to find a motel either. No service. No trace of civilization for at least a couple hundred miles.

Wow. You must be stupid or something. To get in a truck with a stranger. Hell, he could have been some kind of creep. Have you seen any horror movie ever?

He looks back over at you during his internal questioning. Gosh you’re pretty. Effortlessly stunning. Hair a little wild and undone. No makeup on that he can tell at least, but he’s never really been good at noticing that stuff anyway. You’ve got layers of mixed metal jewelry. Necklaces and rings and earrings. All glimmering in the golden hour sun. You kicked your boots off hours ago. Blue polish all chipped off nearly all of your toes. Truthfullt, you’re kind of a mess. A pretty one though.

“What?” You ask him, your honeyed voice brings his brain back to earth.

“Oh- uh… nothin’,” he looks back at the road. Where he should be looking anyway. “Just, it’s gonna be dark soon. Won’t be able to read.” He keeps darting his gaze over at you while he talks.

“That’s ok. I’m sure I’ll find something else to entertain myself with.”

“You should try and sleep. Don’t think we’ll pass a motel until tomorrow night.”

“Oh that’s okay, I’ll just sleep when you do.”

He was hoping you wouldn’t. He was hoping he could avoid the awkwardness of the sleeping situation altogether.

“Yeah, I mean if you want. There’s only one bed so I just thought-“

“What, you don’t wanna share?” You’re giving him a look that he can’t decipher. Are you… flirting with him? You toss your book into your bag and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Uh- what are you- what are you doin’?” He asks as you climb into the back.

“Well since you’re kickin’ me to the floor I guess I’ll try and catch some z’s before you pull over.” He’s glancing back every few seconds. Trying to keep his attention on the road, but a little too intrigued by you peeling your shorts off to succeed in doing it.

“I’m not- I wouldn’t make you sleep on the floor, I just didn’t- I don’t want to -“ fuck. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to sleep with him. Like you had to share the dingy little sleeper cab that can barely fit his own broad shoulders, let alone another person. An incredibly attractive and insanely good smelling girl. One that’s bending over to fix the sheets and baring her lacy hot pink thong in the process. His eyes widen and get all shifty. Should he look? Should he pretend he doesn’t see?

“Don’t want to what? Sleep with me?” You scoff as you sit back on the bed thing your hair up into a messy blob at the top of your head with a hair tie.

“No I-”

“Don’t worry, I know what you mean. But I really don’t mind. In fact, I probably owe you anyway.”

“O-owe me? I already told you I’m going your way anyhow.” He says, reminding you of his refusal to take any cash.

“I know, but you’ve been so nice and sweet for picking me up in the first place. Wanna make it up to you.” You’re voice is low and sultry. And your words go straight to the tent in his jeans, the one that’s been half hard and ignored since he first invited you into the truck. He glances back at your half naked frame, relaxing into the sleeper cab mattress. Seeing your tanned legs and pretty panties. Wild hair and a playful, up to absolutely no good look in your eyes.

He wants to focus on the road. He does. But his mind is racing with all the ways you could make it up to him. Since you’re offering that is. And he really doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend he doesn’t want to pull over and plow you til the sun comes up. Especially with the way you’re looking at him, hand trailing down to tickle at the waistband of your underwear, biting your lip and flipping through your own filthy fantasies about the handsome, young trucker who’s been kind enough to help you out.

He catches your gaze as he glances back once more and the lustful look in his baby blues sends a jolt straight between your legs. You smile and lick your lips, wanting to be extra clear of your intentions,

“I’m ready whenever you are, pretty boy.”

[zriasstuff]

Tutoring lessons pt.1- Blaise Zabini x reader

In which you and Blaise get to know each other on a deeper level, which you never expected.

To be honest, I don’t know how to characterize Blaise at all, and all the “Slytherin Boys react” that I read always barely have any Blaise in it, so just run with it :’) part 2 is out too!

“Can we please just take a break”, Blaise annoyingly asks you for the thousandth time. It’s as if he was a little child who couldn’t focus for more than 10 minutes.

“No, we just need to go through one more question, then we can take a break”, you tell him, but that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

One reason why this was so difficult for him is that he never did his own work in class. Hence, concentrating didn’t exactly come easy to him. The only reason for which Blaise was even passing, was him paying other people to do his work for him. It was something you could never imagine yourself doing.

So, you would think that when he asked you to tutor him, he actually started to care about school, but quite the opposite apparently. His behavior made you believe it was all just some elaborate joke by him.

It wasn’t merely today, you’d been doing this for weeks already and there seemed to be no progress at all. You started wondering whether the problem was you or him.

As you tried your best to explain the last question to him, he rolled his eyes resentfully, and signaled clearly to you that he wasn’t paying attention anymore. His head was tiresomely hanging from his shoulders, and he sighed as you went on and on about stuff he doesn’t care about.

“You got that?”, you check up on him occasionally, fearing that this was all just for nothing again.

“Uh-huh”, he responds in annoyance. It was the most unconvincing thing you ever heard. He could at least try to sound interested.

With the amount of time that had passed, in which he cared so little, you finally couldn’t take it anymore. Here you were, making sure a fellow classmate would pass his finals, and he was being nothing but ungrateful.

You shut the textbook promptly, which creates a loud banging noise, and look at the utterly unmotivated person sitting next to you.

“Could you please just try for a second because I’m starting to doubt you’d understand what we’re learning about, even if you tried”, you spurt out. The words coming from your mouth spilled out uncontrollably, it was like all your repressed inner thoughts were finally being said out loud.

“I’m really trying my hardest here, to make you understand and I’ve been getting nothing from you for weeks”, you continued your confrontation, although you started sounding a little desperate at this point. You keep looking at him intensely, while also coming off as extremely frustrated.

Blaise, after being shocked at first by your sudden frustration that you let out on him in a rather unfriendly way, counters with the same attitude right away.

“Listen, I know you think grades are the most important shit, but they’re not. I’m good at other things, and maybe I don’t want to work with you because you suck at explaining.”, he spits at you, gradually raising his voice.

Having said that, he actually got up, ready to leave the library altogether. Not that you minded, but something about this interaction felt unfinished. He still had to explain certain things to you, so you stop him in his tracks by following him and demanding him to stay.

“Just leave me alone, will you”, he sighs loudly, back still turned to you. “And you’re definitely fired”, he adds, quickly turning around and glancing at you as he’s saying that.

“S- Seriously?", you are stunned by his behavior. “How mature of you by the way, you’re firing me?”, you continue, mocking him along the way. “It’s not my fault you’re so stupid and slow, I mean it’s not like anyone else will have patience with you. So yeah, have fun failing”

Blaise finally fully turns to you again and opens his mouth for a second, but no words come out. Not sure what he was feeling, you suddenly start to feel a pit in your stomach building. Maybe you’d gone too far. You could’ve definitely expressed that in a nicer, more constructive way.

You were the only people left in the library, it was late. Perhaps that’s why this interaction felt like it was ages long.

Finally, after what seems like hours of just standing face to face without saying anything, you decide it was time to be the bigger person. Blaise certainly didn’t seem like he was ready to break the ice.

Innerly you know what you said before was uncalled for, but nonetheless every fight is a two person job.

“I- I’m sorry”, you begin, “what I said was uncalled for, and just out of frustration. I just, I just want to know that my tutoring is actually helping, you know.” You notice your voice getting more quiet as you go on, but as you were standing so close he must’ve still heard.

“You know I asked you to tutor me because McGonagall was on my ass, not because I actually cared”, he states.

“I kinda figured after the first few sessions”

Another moment of quietness passes before he goes on.

“At the start I actually wanted to do good, to prove I’m not as incompetent as everyone thinks I am”, he confesses honestly. This was the first time Blaise actually sounded genuine about something, it made you want to get to know him more.

“But after a while, I realized I was in fact hopeless and stupid-”

“Don’t say that”, you try to comfort him swiftly. It was dreadful when people said those hurtful things about themselves, but you know you and your earlier outburst were at fault here too.

“No it’s true, you just said it, don’t try to deny it”

Now you feel even worse. You never wanted to make him feel this bad about himself, and no one should ever think so low of themselves either. In the past, you also had plenty of self deprecating thoughts about yourself, but you tried your best to wash those away. Along the way you realized that you were so much better of a person than you’d ever given yourself credit for.

Quickly, you try to come up with something to make him feel better, but you're afraid you have ruined it. So, honestly, you tell him that you’re sorry and don’t know what to say. Whoever said “honesty is the best policy” better be damn right now you think.

Blaise pondered for a moment, but appeared to enjoy the honesty after all. Same as you, he decided to own up to his faults too.

“It’s not your job to make me feel better, besides I haven’t been the best student either. It just sucks having everyone think you’re the worst”

Slowly, you feel the tension completely dissolving between you two. Communicating was the key after all. Now you knew exactly what to say to Blaise.

“I know it sucks, and you can ignore what I said. But what I can give you as advice is that it’s your mindset that’s holding you back”

“What do you mean?”, he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, not fully understanding yet.

“You keep getting dragged down by all the negativity, so much that you started to give up on yourself too. It’s like you know you’re going to fail, so you don’t even try.”

“So you’re saying I should just believe in myself”, he asks to make sure he got what you said, also seeming rather unimpressed.

“Look, I know it sounds basic, but it’s true, no?”

As he’s thinking about what you said, Blaise sees your point. He did in fact never actually try. Copying off of others. Failing tests, saying he never studied to begin with. Never studying, so he’d have an excuse for why he failed. Not doing work because he’s afraid that if he did, he’d have a confirmation that he was in fact stupid. Perhaps it was really time to change something about his whole mindset.

“Will you keep trying to help me, if I promise I’ll actually try?”, he asks nervously. He realizes he just became more vulnerable than ever. Especially to someone he hadn’t even considered to be his friend before. He was looking forward to being friends with you though, and hopefully in the future he’d get to know things about you too. Before that, you had to decide though whether you wanted to help him.

“Well I don’t know”

“Oh-”

“Don’t you have to un-fire me first”, you joke. You practically saw the relief wash over his face. Looks like he really means what he was saying. Blaise expressed his gratitude for your help, and offered to do something for you too in the meantime. Since you couldn't think of anything, you just told him that tutoring him would look good on your resume too, and you left it at that.

Turns out, on your walk back to the Slytherin common room, that you two had a lot in common too, even if you had differences when it came to your studies. Surprisingly, your guys’ favorite quidditch team was the same, and you had the same favorite players. Both of you also shared the same dream vacation locations, and most importantly you both agreed that Malfoy kinda looked like a ferret.

[milaswriting]

Conversations with an Empath [a short story]

⇢ An insight into A and B’s friendship, and B pushes A to have a chat about their feelings… and guess who’s at the centre of A’s feelings? Hint, it’s you.

Happy birthday to my darling demigod/dess!

Ignore that this has been posted so late, uni has burned me out and fried my brain but I’m so happy I managed to get this drabble done during all the uni chaos.

Feel free to send any asks about A, and I hope you enjoy this drabble. I think it’s cute that the most emotionally unavailable ro has a good friendship (& conversation) with (one of) the most emotionally available ros.

Hope you enjoy.

Half of four is two. And two can be whittled down into one. The latter is what A likes best: being by themselves, in a sense of comfort and calm… but, then again, two isn’t terrible.

The concept of you and A wouldn’t be so terrible, but those are thoughts they have to keep to themselves. The same thoughts they keep at bay when they’re around anyone. Including B who’s one of their closest friends.

“I invited you because I didn’t think you’d actually come to my place,” is what B said when A walked through the door to their apartment.

“I can turn around and leave,” A replied with honesty but B gently clutched their wrist and pulled them in further before they even had the chance.

Their friendship is an odd one, to say the least. You couldn’t pair two supernaturals that are more opposite than one another. They’re day and night, chalk and cheese, a demigod/dess and a werewolf. But they still work magnificently. It’s a friendship of bright eyes, lopsided smiles, the knowing glances only the two of them can understand; and although A doesn’t say it often; you and their friends is something they’re grateful for.

There’s a mug of coffee on the table for A, and B takes a seat opposite them. There’s a thought floating around in the werewolf’s mind, and they can’t decide whether to tread carefully and say what’s on their mind.

After a sip of coffee, A makes the decision for them. “Spit it out, B. You look ready to explode.”

B’s eyebrows furrow. “Rude.”

“But true?”

“Yeah,” B mumbles after a pause. “True.”

A rests back in their seat. “Go on then.”

Tread carefully… “You seem different.”

A blinks a few times before they tilt their head at B’s words. “Like… emotionally different? A good different?”

B’s an empath, if there’s any change they can sense in anyone it’s all down to feelings, and emotions. “Exactly that!” B laces their fingers together.

“Is it overwhelming for you?” A asks concerned.

“No, it’s fine!” B exclaims, the hint of a smile on their lips and they feel themselves getting somewhere. “I just wanted to see if you’re up for talking about it.”

A humorous scoff escapes A before a smirk is visible. “It’s what we’re doing now, isn’t it? You should consider yourself lucky. This is the most anyone’s gotten out of me for a while.”

A doesn’t say that stuff lightly. B knows that; so much so that they really do feel honoured to be in A’s (very) inner circle.

“I don’t know,” A mumbles. “Everything seems calm and chilled out. You know, the LIS is okay, no one’s actively trying to harm or kill us, so…”

B’s top lip quirks upwards. “Way to make this morbid.”

“You wanted honest,” A snorts.

“I sort of hoped you’d talk about the person who’s made you feel happier,” B replies.

If there’s anything that could cause a wave of worry and silence to engulf A, it’s a statement like that. A statement about you has them doing that. They debate whether to say anything, or whether to let B push and dig. And if that happens, then A would probably pour their their now-cold coffee down the sink and avoid the conversation altogether.

But A decides against that.

“I—“ A interrupts themselves before sucking in a breath. “Sure, I guess.” Those rush of words don’t make sense. “I mean, they’re around us most of the time now,” they say about you. “If you get used to someone, shouldn’t they have some kind of effect on your emotions?”

B nods. “Yeah,” they whisper, cautious they’ll interrupt the only heart to heart they’ll probably have with A this year. “How do they make you feel?”

Irritation. Annoyance. Confusion. Fear. Longing… potentially more than that??

A clenches their jaw. “A lot,” they eventually blurt out. “Too fucking much if you’re able to sense it all.”

B chuckles, and though there’s another statement and set of questions on their lips, the pure look of uncertainty on A’s face tells them to hold back.

“I’ll make you more coffee.”

A’s lips purse together. “I don’t just live on coffee, you know.”

But B’s already laughing their way into the kitchen, which gives A a chance to stay with their thoughts, emotions and everything in between that.

You are the person in between that.

Yet A’s already shaking their head to rid themselves of the thoughts of you.

Maybe talking this out with B was a good thing…

Or maybe not considering they’re even more confused than they were before.

All these feelings are a wild ride…

[mytragedyperson]

Thoughts I had while reading TCF/LCF chapter 14

Well done Cale, you didn’t get beat up. One of the few times your plan actually works and you don’t get hurt. Also poor OG Cale. Getting beat up already suck but it was raining too? Now that’s just sad.

Also the start of his hoard of ancient powers because as mentioned Cale hoards pretty much everything, as he should

Oh the awkwardness that is the early days Henituse family. I don’t hate or dislike Deruth. Idk what the general consensus about him is. I don’t necessarily think he’s the best father ever but I also don’t think he’s the worst father ever. I think he tries his best but it’s hard. I don’t think anyone is solely at fault for the awkwardness in the family. Like it would be so easy to say it’s OG Cale’s fault or it’s Deruth’s fault but it’s not really that black and white. We know from the beginning that Deruth is at least trying from the way Ron tells Cale the master has been wanting to eat breakfast with him for a while. It’s one of the first things we hear in the novel, but it also seems he didn’t really try to intervene when Cale was acting like trash, except we get that information from the novel, which doesn’t even name the secret organisation tormenting everyone in the first 5 volumes. He doesn’t try to correct his manners, but really his manners aren’t that bad at least compared to OG Cale who calls the food trash and breaks stuff a lot. I do think he could be a worse father, but I also think he could be a better character so for now I’m fairly neutral towards him. I do think he’s trying to protect and care for Cale in his own way, he just doesn’t know how to do that, snd he may be worried that pushing too hard will cause Cale to leave altogether. Maybe my opinion will change as time goes by.

Similarly I don’t yet have much of an opinion on Violan. Some may say that, as the adult, she should be the one putting in the effort and trying to improve their relationship, but I feel like it’s already more awkward for step parents, especially in a case like this where the biological mother is dead, because you don’t want to try and force a relationship and you don’t want to seem like you’re trying to replace the biological parent. Again fairly neutral towards her, maybe that will change. I feel like it’s easy to tell that, in her own way, she does care for Cale, she just doesn’t know how to show that and I feel like that’s especially clear in the way she discusses the larger envoy and appearances. Yes, it’s partially about protecting the family’s image but it’s also her own way of looking out for Cale and protecting him from the nobles and politics of their world. Also this may be the first somewhat positive interaction they’ve ever had and she seems fairly happy with it.

Also it’s not really like Violan is wrong about the whole appearances matter thing, and Cale knows this better than most. He knows the reputation OG Cale has and uses that to his advantage while moving in secret. Just take the Black Dragon thing. He’s a trashy young master who was drinking early, got too drunk, and retired for the night early. He also uses this to smuggle Taylor and Cage into the capital, and to mess with the enemy. Cale is a master at using appearances to his advantage, so ifanyone would agree with Violan’s beliefs about appearance being important, especially to nobles, it’s Cale.

Another instance of him being kind/non-selfish, him not taking more servants. This ignores a few things. 1) he doesn’t have to help the Black Dragon at all, he could just pass through the village and be out of there before Raon even poses a threat. I know we’re all glad he didn’t do that but the point remains that he could’ve and, who knows, if he did that Raon may have even been able to still live. He was a beserk dragon so it may not have been a happy ending, and all the villagers would probably die, but Choi Han wouldn’t be there to kill them. Of course the secret organisation would’ve been hunting him then, but somehow I don’t think they’re beating a beserk dragon who hates people unless the white star himself does something but I could be wrong. As I said glad this didn’t happen. Raon deserves better than that but it was a possibility. 2) he claims not to care about people but so far all he’s done is care about people. And I know him not being able to watch people die is valid but, again, if his plan somehow fails or he doesn’t manage to free Raon, he knows what day it happens. I bet, if he’d been unable to save Raon for whatever reason, plan B would’ve been an evacuation. Idc what he says, he wasn’t letting those villagers die. Cale is a lot like Choi Han in that respect. He refuses to let people die if he can help it. of course he’d never admit this and would be horrified if anyone said it, but this trait, that he says is so admirable of Choi Han, is a trait that he also has but doesn’t notice. Remind you of anything? Like, maybe him admiring how open minded Choi Han is and how he befriends all the races, only to go on to befriend even more races than Choi Han did. That’s right, I’m calling Cale out for being exactly the thing he admires, because he continues to call himself selfish, lazy trash while being the opposite.

Honestly he isn’t fooling anyone. He can use as many words as he wants, at the end of the day, it’s very clear that he just doesn’t want people around him to get hurt, if he can prevent it. Oh I don’t care about people, I just don’t want to see them hurt in front of me or to be responsible for the people who get hurt. That’s so many words to say I care about people and son’t want them to get hurt.

Ok I get that he has a point about the responsibility of others being a burden, but it’s one that he actively takes on himself. If Raon did get free, that wouldn’t make him responsible. Just knowing about things doesn’t magically give you the ability to change or fix it. It would still be Neo Tolz’ responsibility and the Stan family’s responsibility. It’s their territory, their people. The Stans are smart enough to keep it in a different territory but arrogant enough to keep it mear people. They’re so sure that it won’t escape but it does, in every world it gets free, either by freeing itself or being freed. You can’t tame a dragon or keep it contained but they’re so arrogant, and as a result they put innocent people, the villagers, in danger, and they don’t even care, and why would they? It’s not the Stan’s territory so the consequences don’t affect them as much. God I hate them, I hate them so much.

The fact that Kim Rok Soo is taking more responsibility for events and people that are happening in an entirely different world and these complete monsters can’t even be bothered to pretend to care about the people they’re supposed to protect and leave. They are a waste of human life

Also I notice Cale is very big on eye contact. Every time he talks to someone he tries to make eye contact, and I love this because I feel like this is another sign that he sees them as equals. Now, I’m not saying people who don’t make eye contact don’t see others as equals, I get it, eye contact can be awkward. But it can also be poweful and a show of respect. First it’s almost vulnerable in a way and shows that you’re not hiding anything. The eyes are the window to the soul and by making eye contact he’s showing his emotions, showing he’s being honest, showin he understands. It also shows that he’s engaged with the conversation, he’s looking at them, he’s listening to them, he’s fully focused on them and the conversation. He wants to hear and understand their opinion and their point of view. It shows he cares about what they have to say but also that he wants them to hear what he has to say. He’s not distracted, he’s not interrupting, he’s listening and paying attention. Again, I’m not saying people who can’t or don’t make eye contact aren’t equally invested or whatever, I just feel like it’s another nice subtle way of showing that Cale respects people and sees him as equals. It’s also a good way for Cale to read others. The mouth and even the body can lie, but the eyes usually can’t. maybe it’s just because I was always taught that it was polite to look at people when you’re talking to them or they’re talking. Idk.

Ugh and art being the mirror to the soul is such a great statement. Whatever art you do, it’s usually a reflection of your emotions right. Sometimes that emotion is as simple as I like this thing or I felt like drawing this thing but there’s always some sort of emotion involved somewhere.

How happy they are that Cale and Violan are getting on. This is why I can’t feel negative towards Deuth or Violan.

Ah the information network. Funny to think that by the end of the novel Cale will have the best information network there is.

How surprised do you think they were that Cale actually read all the information? In the beginning everyone seemed shocked that Cale was reading and writing things down to the point that I would actually be offended but I kinda get it.

Honestly Deuth must’ve been pulling his hair out trying to keep up with Cale. He knows his son is responsible for some things, he just doesn’t know how, and Cale never actually explains, and then he somehow has to keep track of Cale leaving the territory for onre thing, to go to one place, only to be gone for weeks just traveling around the continents. And then he just retuens and is like hi I come baring new family members/allies, and also I’m moving to Harris village, and also we now have an alliance with this random group and access to this thing and we’re financing this, and Deuth is just there like wtf? He asks Hans, Hans is like idk. He asks Ron, Ron just smiles benignly. He asks Hilsman, Hilsman just gets a haunted look in his eye. Eventually he decides he’s better off not knowing and just accepts it.

Also I heard the manhwa dropped the ball when it came to the man eating tree so, is there any fanart of it? Specifically the transformation? Please it sounds so pretty, I need to see it. If anyone can point me towards someone who’s done fanart of this I’d appreciate it.

Oh my god the man eating tree is out of its goth/emo phase, good for the tree. Jk goths and emos are cool and their clothes are pretty.

Deruth: I heard an interesting rumor recently

Cale: don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious.

I’d say I’m sorry but I’m really not and if even one of you read that and heard it as a song my work here is done

I imagine sometimes Deruth will be trying to sleep and just as he’s about to drift off, he remembers the man-eating tree’s transformation and just gets lost internally debating what Cale did. No sleep is had on those nights as he considers the possibilities.

I mean, even when Cale does come back he doesn’t get to immediately become a couch potato, then he has like a month to laze around and then is back to being busy for weeks. That’s like one of the things Cale is bad at, being a couch potato

So I know this is a fantasy world and they’re nobles so rules are different but I just imagine 7 year old Lily Henituse, looking up at 18 year old Cale Henituse after he asks if she wants him to bring back a present. And he’s probably expecting her to ask for idk a doll or a teddy bear, idk what 7 year old little girls like but you know something fairly innocent and harmless. And she just completely earnestly looks up at him and says, with the most innocent expression possible “a sword”. That is simultaneously adorable, hilarious, and slightly terrifying, and maybe even a little bit badass. I wouldn’t normally recommend giving a child a sword but just for the mental image this provides I’d say she deserves it.

she’s so adorable. Lily must be protected at all costs. If anything bad happens to Lily I’m going to have no choice but to transmigrate into the novel and pull a Raon by just destroying everything.

Ok but Cale’s children grow up so spoiled.

And she’s so polite when she asks for a sword too. Fuck Cale. I want the story of Lily saving everyone with the power of cuteness, politeness, and this sword she found. Please and thank you.

Honestly the first real clue we get that Cale’s earth may not be the way we know it, other than his complete calmness about all of this, is probably the way he reacts to Lily asking for a sword. He doesn’t really react much after the initial shock and just agrees. Again I know it’s a fantasy world but Kim Rok Soo isn’t from this fantasy world, and I can only imagine it’s because, after the apocalypse or whatever on his earth that I only know anything about from fanfic, any kids that are still alive, probably not unusual to see them with some sort of weapon. And that also makes sense for Cale because he knows being young doesn’t mean you’ll be safe, he’s too used to kids being in danger.

And Basen seems like such a good brother. Like he’s so encouraging and supportive. I like Basen and Lily.

I love how supportive Basen and Cale are of Lily and how willing they are to take her and her dreams seriously? I can only imagine that a lot of people would hear that a 7 year old girl wants to be swordsman and just not take it seriously or make fun of her or think she’ll grow out of it or disapprove because “it’s not ladylike” and she’s supposed to be a noble. It’s so nice to see that Lily’s family supports her and doesn’t try to ridicule her or try to change her mind. They just accept it and accept her. God I love this story

And that must’ve felt so good for Lily, hearing that her brother who she hasn’t talked to much and thought didn’t like in her believes she can do it and is willing to support her.

And then you get Basen who just wants a fountain pen. I know that’s equally as valid but the difference in the present they want is funny to me and a nice gender switch of the roles I believe, having Basen be the one dealing with admin stuff and Lily the swordsman and protector. I love that.

Deputy Butler Hans really said because they’re my favourite and gave On and Hong the comfiest set. He’s so real for that

And thank God Hans didn’t see the poison fog because God knows Cale wouldn’t explain shit if he had.

Oh my god, I love the way this novel says do we want our characters to be cute or terrifying and the answer is always why not both. Cute and terrifying are not two separate things. Things and people can be both cute and terrifying at the same time.

I feel like there could be serious conversation about how paralysis is worse than death. It does depend on how you die. I also took this to mean full body paralysis, so alive but unable to move, speak, anything. And I do think personally to me that would be worse than death. That might just be me idk.

Good, On and Hong deserve all the praise and also all the happiness and all the hugs and pats and affection, just everything good basically.

Another day, another reason I love Hans. Of course most of those reasons are related to the cat tribe siblings but I stand by what I said.

Everyone but Hans knowing something is great and should become the running joke of the series. Even Hilsman should know before him, Hans should be the last to know everything, if just to protect his innocence and give Hans plausible deniability.

Ah Choi Han and Cale. One of the best bromances to ever bromance. Choi Han is the true ride or die

I guess it makes sense that Choi Han wouldn’t call Cale young master because physically he’s younger than him. I feel like that would be awkward, calling someone older than you young master. Also I know nothing about ‘nim’ except that it shows respect but it could also be slightly more equal? I honestly don’t know. If I’m wrong about what some of this means, please tell me.

What is a persimmon? Is it a fruit? I know it’s a real thing and probably a food but that’s all I know. One sec. ok it is a fruit. Is it any good? Are they bitter? I’m guessing they’re not supposed to be

Gotta agree with Cale on this one. There is very little reason for Choi Han to be in the same carriage. That would probably limit movement anyway if someone managed to get through to the carriage to attack Cale. Much more logical to protect the carriage from outside, more room and you can prevent them getting to Cale in the first place.

Cale really speedrun? Speedran? Cale’s character development from the book huh? Good for him.

Ok I get that Choi Han was hiding his full strength but he still beat the Knight’s Brigade or members of it so I still don’t really understand why you’d try to mess with/look down on him.

Cale letting Choi Han deal with Hilsman and the knights on his own is actually a really good move. He could intervene but this is more likely to just cause more resentment. Choi Han needs to prove himself and honestly probably doesn’t want Cale to do anything anyway. You go Choi Han. Get him

No, in all seriousness, I actually don’t mind Hilsman. I don’t dislike him or anything but I do think at this point he could stand to learn a thing or two about looking down on people and underestimating them and Choi Han is the perfect example of why you shouldn’t underestimate him. So is Cale but this isn’t really about him at the minute. This also pushes Hilsman to grow, as a knight and as a person, and encourages the other knights too, in a way that Cale couldn’t. another thing Cale didn’t mean to have happen but did. And all because he chose to take Choi Han to the capital. Butterfly effect: now the knights are stronger and know not to underestimate people.

Hans’ concern for Choi Han is really sweet and we again get to see the trust he has in Cale since he takes the issue to him and seemingly trusts him to deal with it.

Hans: I think Choi Han is being bullied

Cale: really? By who?

Hans: the vice captain

Cale: poor guy

Hans: yeah it sucks that he’s doing this to Choi Han

Cale: I meant the Vice Captain. Poor vice captain

Hans: visibly confused

Similar energy to call the ambulance but not for me, you know.

Also love Cale just not caring. Just he’ll be fine probably and goes about his day,

Ah yes, Cale’s envoy. You know, despite his preference and attempts, that envoy never actually seems to decrease. It just seems to get bigger.

Oh these poor bandits. They chose the wrong carriage on the wrong day. The lesson here: don’t be a bandit or, if you are a bandit, don’t try to steal from Cale Henituse. In fact that may just be a lesson/rule in general.

I’m sorry if you, as a bandit, attack a carriage, and the people on the carriage don’t even bother to look out the window at you, to even feign concern, that’s probably a sign you should run.

Even Hong thinks you’re an amateur and he’s like 8 at this point. Get out of here. Can’t even scare an 8 year old, no one is phased.

He’s also way too good at just ignoring screams of terror and pain, which is kinda sad if you think about it too long

[musette22]

Hi Minnie, hope you’re doing well honey! I’m wondering if you have any thoughts or advice on something. I think you approach fandom in a somewhat different way to me, so you might not find yourself in the situation I’m in. But I’d appreciate whatever thoughts you have.

I’m currently in the middle of a huge shipping war (embarrassing but true) in another fandom, and it’s really stressful (similar to when it was Stucky shippers vs…well there have been a few rival ships). I have the vast majority of the ‘other side’ blocked and tags blacklisted etc, but stuff still leaks through, and some create burner blogs to harass and taunt us (staff does little to nothing about it).

Another problem is, their ship is currently “winning" in canon. Like, big-time. So it’s really frustrating to see that largely mean-spirited, nasty people are getting their way (I’m sure there are some nice ones but I don’t think they’re the majority), in addition to knowing that stuff I really don’t want to be happening is happening. It’s very hard to deal with the frustration. And there’s no telling how long this stuff might go on for.

I guess I’m just wondering what you’d do in this situation. I’m tempted to drop out of the fandom completely, but I’ve been a part of it for awhile and it would be hard to give up. I could take a break, but I’m pessimistic that anything will be better in 3 or 6 months or however long.

Thanks for any thoughts you have on this!

Hello my love! Thanks so much for your message 💗

I'm genuinely so, so sorry to hear about the situation you're finding yourself in, that sounds awful and incredibly draining. And that's just such a shame, because that's the opposite of what the fandom experience should be bringing us!

I haven't been in the exact same boat as you, but I think I've had experiences that were close enough to understand a bit about how you're feeling. It's just so tricky, because while taking a step back or leaving this fandom altogether would probably be the most straightforward solution, you obviously still love your ship and presumably also the good parts of the fandom your in, the bits that actually make you really happy. So by leaving the fandom, you wouldn't only be leaving behind the bad stuff, but the good stuff too. So yeah, I really hope you'll find a way around this which will allow you to somehow stay in your current fandom and also actually enjoy it.

It's such a shame that people can't just ship and let ship. I'll never understand why anyone would try to deliberately hurt or taunt other people who are just trying to enjoy their favourite pairings, and although I understand how easy it is to get caught up in it even if you don't want to be, shipping wars an sich are just about the dumbest thing ever to me. Completely pointless, imo. But yeah, once you find yourself in the middle of something like that, it can be really hard to extract yourself from it.

I think the fact that new content is still being made for your fandom, and that canon is not going the way you'd hoped, definitely complicates matters. When Endgame happened, and everything after that (including TFATWS), I also really struggled to continue enjoying being in the Stucky fandom for a while. And that was even without being harassed anybody (at least, not in any significant way). I remember feeling really upset for quite a while, mostly about how there were things happening to my beloved characters that I did not want to happen and felt like a violation of my happy place. Really the only thing that got me through were all the wonderful people who felt the same way I did, friends I could vent to, mutuals who continued fighting the good fight (and I don't mean actually fighting with anyone, just like, making beautiful fannish creations for Stucky), as well as the hope that the storm would down again at some point. And fortunately for me, it did. And without being constantly confronted with things that made me upset, and by creating some clear boundaries for myself, I was fortunately able to continue to enjoy being in this fandom.

I can't deny that the upcoming Thunderbolts movie is making me a little nervous, because I know that new Bucky content is bound to stir up a lot of that old agitation again. But the fact that I have consciously decided not to engage with any new Marvel content after EG, and that for me, Bucky's canon story ended in Wakanda with Steve, definitely makes it easier to deal with. To me, post-Wakanda canon is irrelevant. There is plenty of canon for me to draw on for the Stucky that I love, but mostly, *my* Stucky is a product of fanon anyway (that is, the version of Stucky created by fandom). So even when there is new Bucky content in the future, it just isn't part of my narrative for them, and for the most part, I can just ignore it and keep doing my own thing. So that's really what I would advise you to do too - try and delineate 'your' canon, your ship, as clearly as you can, and ignore everything that doesn't fit inside those boundaries to the best of your ability. It took some time and practice for me, but it did eventually become easier, and it really did make a difference.

So, I don't know if I have any actually helpful advice for you, lovely, because it sounds like you're already doing everything you can to make a bad situation work. But I would say, just keep blocking, keep blacklisting, never ever rise to the bait if anybody tries to antagonise you in any way (that one is REALLY important, I've found. People will eventually get bored of taunting you if they don't get a reaction).

Focus on the people you like and trust and who feel the same way you do, try not to dwell on negativity and try and focus instead on enjoying your ship in fanon, if canon isn't cooperating. Read and write all the fics, post headcanons, make edits and art for your ship, keep it alive - and do it for yourself and people like you, and not to spite anyone else. In the end, it's all fiction, and the fact that canon started it all doesn't mean you have to stick with it. This ship is yours now, and you can do with it what you like. And the most important thing you can do is enjoy it and let it bring you joy and comfort.

And it's possible that it won't be for a while, because I don't know how much new content will be made for this ship in the future, but eventually, the commotion is bound to die down. If you think you'll be able to keep going in your own, carefully curated bubble until then, then that's amazing. But if you think it's only going to keep making you miserable, then it's probably best to step away, at least for a while, however painful it may be. Mental health and personal happiness have to come first, always, otherwise what's the point of fandom?

I'm sorry I can't be of any more help, honey, I wish I could do more! But I genuinely hope you'll be able to make it work, and that your ship can continue making you happy for a long time to come. Sending lots of love and strength your way! ❤️

[midnightrings]

Still trying to collect my thoughts after watching the final episode, but here’s some stuff I’ve been thinking about while watching it.

(spoilers, obviously)

I really, really loved Hawk and Tim’s dynamic in the 50s scenes (and 80s scenes too, of course, but we’ll get to that). I feel like this was also a point in their lives where there was at least a slight chance that they could’ve made it work – until Hawk screwed it up again. They’ve both clearly grown (especially Tim), their relationship appears quite well-balanced and there wasn’t that much baggage between them yet.

Looks like they kept a good amount from the book. Hawk did report Tim, preventing him from getting his dream job as well as barring him from government work altogether. Similar to what I suspected, Lucy was pregnant and Hawk realized that he needed Tim out of his life. It was overall awful but not as bad as I expected – though maybe only because I already knew it would happen.

It’s heartbreaking how Tim has realized time and time again that he needs to let Hawk go – including writing that letter to him, which I guess Hawk never found out about. Tim even told him that there were no expectations on his part, yet Hawk desperately wanted him in his life, only to push him away in the most horrible way shortly after it.

At least Tim did know the truth and, surprisingly, Hawk let him know himself (through Mary). I really thought Tim would find out about it sometime before ’86. It makes a lot of sense though, considering the scene of Tim in the hospital, watching baby Jackson. Tim clearly realized himself that he doesn’t have a place in Hawk’s life. This explains why Tim was constantly urging Hawk to be there for his family, but also why he wasn’t as hostile towards Hawk as he should have been. I mean, there was definitely some resentment on Tim’s part after ’57, but it wasn’t as big as I expected it to be after Hawk’s betrayal – which is why I always assumed Tim didn’t know the truth. But while Tim might have felt betrayed by Hawk’s actions, he probably did understand his reasoning in the end. Which makes it even sadder, because Hawk could have easily talked to him – perhaps Tim would’ve left by himself, realizing that working together would not end well for either of them.

Now, the 80s … I really love how we finally saw more affection between Hawk and Tim. I got teary eyed (while simultaneously having the biggest smile on my face) when Hawk lay down next to him in the hospital bed – this was so sweet and I was hoping for a moment like this. As I said before, I don’t mind that Hawk never told Tim that he loved him – even though I’ve been hoping it would happen at some point. But I feel like there wasn’t a point where a love declaration like this would have fit in, and Hawk kissing Tim publicly was a way better confession of his feelings than any “I love you” could have been. Tim was clearly at peace with himself, and I also believe that he knew that Hawk loved him – which is the only thing that matters in the end.

I guess that Tim’s “wrenching decision” really was a red herring of sorts. Love that they had him fight until the end, and also that we never really saw his death. We all knew that he would die, and letting the audience know through the AIDS quilt and Hawk telling his daughter that he loved Tim was perfect.

Also, Jerome? My sweet baby … that scene between him and Marcus in the gym made me bawl my eyes out. “You’re innocent” – “I’m innocent” … kill me now please.

Also, I’m so glad that I was right about Lucy leaving Hawk. She deserves to find happiness.

Hawk’s storyline was definitely something I was looking forward to the most (and I could probably write entire essays about his character). But I like that they still have him trying to protect his family, ready to leave if Lucy wanted him to. It just makes more sense for his character than to have him suddenly blindly choose Tim. At the same time, he did everything he could for Tim. I never expected Hawk to come out, but I love how he clearly found comfort within his love for Tim – getting him into that gala, confronting that guy (forgot his name, I think it was Dave?), kissing Tim publicly and confessing his love for Tim to his daughter. It was all a bit too late, but also not really – Hawk making the decision to fly to San Francisco and to then stay with Tim definitely helped him grow for the better. He lost everything in the end, but maybe he can finally find peace as well. Perhaps it even needed Tim’s death for Hawk to come to terms with his love for Tim. It’s sad but their story was always meant to end this way.

I’ll probably make a million posts about this show – I have so many thoughts and can’t wait to rewatch it all.

[byrdstrolls]

Mysteries Are Like Onions Part Two

Barely sits in a curled little perch by the train window. The wrappings of two sandwiches on the table that separates him from Miss Laryan. The woman seems to have calmed down a whole lot, spending time idly working on a crossword. His eye’s not leaving the landscape rolling by, Barely says,

“Tell me one more time, Miss Laryan.” 

“Barely,” She sighs. “I keep sayin’, that’s really all I remember.” 

“Please Miss,” He pleads. “I’m just thinkin’”

“Alright” She huffs. “I was rushin’ out of work, late on papers again. I put the land exchange receipt in my wallet. I might’a left it there, might’a not. I locked up. I headed home, put my coat on the rank, and went straight to bed. Next evenin’, I woke up, and went to the station.”

“And you’re absolutely sure, no one else was there?” The rust interjects. 

“Yes, Barely” She sighs. “Not a soul.” 

The child's stare hardens. 

“And I had worked myself into a tizzy” She says, “About Vekeso and Damial fallin’ out, and visitin’ Shercattle.” 

“And you fainted.” Barely says.

“Well” She huffs. “I must’ve. I woke up on the ground.” 

“Are you sure no one could’a attacked you? From behind?” He questions. 

“Barely” She chuckles. “If I got whacked up the head I think I’d have a whole lot more of’a headache than I do now. I’ve fallen off horses when I was a pupa- that stuff hurts!” 

“And no one was there, when you woke up?” He says. Wishing longingly he’d checked the footprints around the train station before the two of them left. 

“Not a soul.” She says. “I dusted myself off, and started pacin’ and that's when I saw you.”

The detective sighs. 

“What’s a ten letter word,” Miss Laryan begins, starting her own line of questioning. “Fourth letter ‘R’ seventh letter ‘T’- for the bendin’ of light as it passes through somethin?” 

Barely seems crabby, frustrated with the change of topic and also perhaps being stuck on a train all day. But in all his politeness, and perhaps, his teacher's pet-like quality of always wanting to seem intelligent, he gives her crossword honest thought. He scribes down a few possible words, frowning, before he lands on one.

“Try Refraction, Miss.” He says. “Maybe we should think harder about motive. Why’d someone wanna hide a land receipt? Do you think…” He trails off, wishing he got to question more people in Baskertop. “Maybe a cowpoke was lookin’ to stop rentin’ from the mayor..?”

“It was older than that” She huffs. “I can’t remember the exact date- But. Musta been at least a half a sweep ago. Nothin’ recent.” 

Barely sighs, biting so forcefully at his necklace Miss Laryan grimaces, worried he’ll break the pretty little thing.  

“Don’t worry ur little pan too hard, Barely” She reassures. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out together.” 

“...Thank you, Miss” He says. But doesn’t sound altogether convinced. Loose, scrambled thoughts tangle in knots in his head, his leg bouncing on the train's floor and tail twitching idly conveying his restlessness, like a cow swatting flies on a field. He’s trying to distract himself, watching the world go by. He’s seen the distance turn from slow rolling plains to hills dotted with farms, the green lushness of the river peaking in and out by the tracks. Shercattle seems a bit more populous than Baskertop, but not by much. Neither town could have more than 200 trolls. Something was hiding here, in plain sight. Desperate to keep a hold of a grip of control that was fragile enough to be toppled by a single paper. 

“Three letter word” Miss Laryan says, “For a conscious thinkin’ subject in philosophy, last letter ‘O’”

Barely blinks, watching the landscape slow as the train pulls into the Shercattle station. He doesn’t need to write down test words this time. He knows this one. 

“Ego” The Detective says. 

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A farmhive sits on the edge of the road. The lawn seems to have been trimmed and weeded almost obsessively. It looks to have been recently painted, a uniform alternian black, but if the moonlight hit it just right, Barely notes, you could see the traces of the original purple coat. He doesn’t think too hard or too long on what the reason for the remodeling could be. Because, well, it’s obvious. On the edge of the path leading up to the door, a sign on a small pole reads- “OPEN HIVE! YOUR NEIGHBOR REALITY”. They must’ve spruced it up to be sold.

Miss Laryan is taking in the sight of this a great deal less calmly than Barely seems to be. 

“Why would Damial move??” She says, having started a frantic pacing, again. “Was he in some kinda money trouble, why, we coulda helped him! Why didn’t I hear about this!”

“Miss Laryan,” Barely says. “Didn’t you say him and Vekeso had a fallin’ out?”

“You think maybe that was because of this?” She stumbles. “You think that receipt has anythin’ to do with it?”

“Well” Barely says. “Half a sweep seems a frightful long time to wait to putta hive on the market” he says, gesturing. “And this is an open hive.” He thinks. “Don’t work yourself up, Miss, he coulda bought ‘imself a nicer farm, right?”

“Right” She says, her shoulders losing a little bit of their tension. “But… where will we stay today? He coulda moved all the way to the city for all we know.”

“Why don’t we head downtown?” The teenager shrugs. “And ask around about what happened here” He says. 

She pauses. “...Alright” She says. So the two of them begin a trek back towards the heart of Shercattle. 

“Everythin’s been so strange lately” She mutters. “I can’t help but think somethin’ awful’s happened. Messiahs put a curse on these towns.” 

The rustblood pauses, something incomprehensible passing through his expression. One might’ve thought he was a touch too smart for superstition. But on a world like Alternia, well, sometimes the smart thing to do is to pay folktales some mind. 

“There are many kinds’a curses, Miss Laryan” He says. “Some Messiahs, some witches, some good ol’ fashioned chance.” He lists. Sure acting like he knows a lot on the matter, curiously. “And some,” he says. “Just a regular troll movin’ his hands so fast and so quiet when your money disappears it feels like magic.” 

“Not much a detective can do about the first three.” She sighs. “Maybe i shoulda found a lil’ priest.” She jokes, ruffling his hair. 

Barely huffs, allowing this fond action on her part only because he really did like Miss Laryan, even though trolls treating him his age often made him feel kinda silly.

“You’d be surprised-” he says, and then pauses. “-Hey!” he says. “That's the same store that was in Baskertop” the child says, hurrying over to peek into the window of another DUNNERMART. “And the same guy” he says, glancing at Dunner, who waves.

“Oh,” Laryan says, rushing to keep up. “That fish is everywhere” She surmises. The bell dings as Barely enters the shop, both eager to integrate Dunner again now that it seemed he could have eyes on so many places, and a little hungry. 

“Fancy seein’ you here,” Barely grins. 

“I’m the CEO, son. I check in at a lot of the locations.” The fushia chuckles, pausing his restocking of a wiener rack. 

“Interestin’” The kid says, gnawing on his necklace as he walks over to look at the candy. 

“What’re you doin’ up in Shercattle?” The man asks. Barely pauses, suddenly acutely aware Miss Laryan had not followed him into the store. A quick glance out the window confirms that she, just as Barely had, had recalled her possible fugitive status, and decided not to enter. 

“Just passin’ through” Barely says, picking up a bag of those gummy sharks. “On my way to the express line.” 

“Lil’ guy like you headin’ all the way to the city alone?” Dunner frowns. 

“I’m somethin’ of a wiz kid, Mister Dunner.” he says. “I can handle myself” 

“If ya say so” Dunner shrugs, adjusting his employee ‘hi my name is dunner’ tag on his white uniform. 

“You see the open hive down the road?” Barely asks. 

“Yeah, I seen it” Dunner sighs. “A damn shame. Damial used to be an upstandin’ gentleman, back in the day”

The detective exhales. This did not seem to bode well for Miss Laryan’s friend, and he didn’t look forward to telling her. 

“What happened?” The rust asks.

“There was a big illness” Dunner sighs. “Tore through the milkcows a season ago. Lotta farms went outta business.” 

Barely frowns.”I didn’t hear about that from any of the cowpokes down south” He inquires. 

“Well, thank the messiahs, we quarantined,” Dunner shrugs. “I shut down my dairy factory as soon as I heard- it didn’t make it in any cows there either. Baskertop was fine. But all the same. Damial’s farm didn’t make it. Cows died. Ran outta business. I offered him a job at my factory, but he didn’t take it. Had too much pride in ‘em. He-” The shopkeep pauses. “I dunno if I should tell you til you’re grown, son.” he sighs. 

“I can handle it” The teenager insists, standing up as tall as he can over the counter, notebook clenched in his hand, hangin on every word. Dunner looks to the side, breathes out, and then turns back again. 

“Let’s just say he started goin’ down to Lar’s a bit too often” The clerk says, delicately, mentioning Shercattle’s only bar. “Musta kept her in business, a guy that big. Musta took a lot to make ‘em drunk but he managed. Started lashin’ out at everynight people who didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Always groanin’ about his jadeblood sweetheart down the way who did ‘em wrong. And well you didn’t hear it here, but the two of them never even dated. Probably smart of Vekeso to walk away from that one. Damial, he’s well, mostly just a sad sight and general nuisance to the folks in town now.” 

“I see…” Barely says, pausing his scribbling. 

“I’d stay away from that one, if I were you son. You know what they say about purples.” Dunner warns. Dunner seems to be full of these kinds of warnings. Maybe he was paranoid, maybe he was on to something, it was yet to be seen. 

Barely, the end of Dunner’s sentence echoing in his mind, grips the candy in his hand. 

“Is the first candy also on the hive…?” he asks, hopefully. 

“No,” Dunner says. “You gotta pay for that one.” 

The rust checks his pockets, and sighs, before pausing. 

“Mister Dunner” He begins. “You may not know this, but I’m a high class detective. You wouldn’t happen to have a mystery that needs crackin’ I could solve in exchange for this, wouldya?” 

The seadweller’s eyebrows raise.

“Well…” he pauses. “Matter of fact, I do.” He says. “I’ve been tallyin’ up the math overday, and it seems like sometrolls been takin’ money outta the register when I’m not around. It’d save me a pretty dollar from havin’ to buy a camera if you could find out who” 

“Gladly, Mister.” Barely says, perking up. “When do you switch shifts?” 

“In two hours” he says, a tiny frown appearing on his face as Barely pulls open the bag, despite what he had just agreed. 

“I’ll be back then” Barely says. 

“You’re gonna just walk outta here” Dunner says slowly, “And never come back, Detective Barely? I might have t’call the sheriff if you did such a thing, and I don’t wanna do that.” 

The rustbloods ears flatten, he pops his necklace out of his mouth and pops a gummy into it. This bag couldn’t cost more than three bucks. 

“I won’t Mister Dunner, I promise” He says, flipping to a new page on his notepad and scribbling down the words 

‘DUNNER TRUSTS NO ONE’.

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In the two hours before he had to go keep an eye on the DunnerMart, Barely decides to head down to Lar’s Bar. He had found some kind of errand with which to distract Miss Laryan, who he both didn’t want to break the news about Damial too, and worried she wouldn’t let him go in a bar because he’s six. He had asked for ten caegars for lunch. He contemplated just going back and paying Mister Dunner, who he wasn’t sure was serious or not about the sheriff thing, but in the end decided he was too much of a cheapskate. And the register case would probably be easy. 

So there he stood in front of the dingy lil’ place. The parking lot was sparse, it was still early in the night, at the time Barely hoped that it would be easy to talk with a resident alcoholic without being overheard. LARS BAR reads the neon sign, but the R has gone out, making it LA S BAR. Which, Barely briefly thought, was almost spanish for ‘the bar’. He shakes his head, trying to get himself back on track. Dunner’s warning still rings in his ears. He knew well enough not to bother most highbloods. But the store clerk had given a similar ominous statement regarding Miss Laryan, who wouldn’t hurt a fly. And Barely had often found that trolls that have something bad to say about everyone often had not much of substance to say at all. Easy to look down on a man out of hive, the rust had reckoned, when you are CEO of a chain company.

Barely entered the bar, the squeaking door announcing his presence. There are a few trolls, but most had the good sense to raise an eyebrow at him. The bartender, and two women at a table stare. The only troll that doesn’t even seem to notice is a hulking mass in a plaid shirt in the corner. Faint music is playing. The teenager swallows, straightening his back, and with all the courage he could muster, walks over to the bar, close up to that huge troll, pulling up a seat. 

“Shirley Temple” Barely says, pointing at the table, in the lowest voice he could muster. “On the rocks. One extra cherry.” He says, sliding a five caegar bill to the bartender. The woman just stares at it. The kid might have imagined it, but he thinks he might have heard the troll in the corner snort. 

“Are ya serious?” Says the bartender plainly. 

“Virgin Shirley Temple” Barely adds, with extra emphasis. “On the rocks. One extra cherry.” he repeats, adding another five caegar bill on top of the first one. “Missus bartender.” 

The heap in the corner laughs. 

“I know how to make a shirley” She huffs. “Mister Grown Up. You wouldn’t happen to have an ID? You know you’re supposedta find two other pupas and a trenchcoat at least, right?” 

The purpleblood in the corner rises from his slumber. 

“Oh, let him have it, Gon.” He laughs. “Kid’s thirsty.” 

Gon stares at Damial, as if, for good reason, her patience with the man was already rather thin. But then looks at the ten caesars, and sighs. She takes the money. 

There goes my lunch, Barely thinks. 

“Woulda thought your name was Lar’s” He enquires, having honestly mistaken the bartender for the owner, simply due to the commanding presence she had over the room. 

“HA!” She laughs, self righteous. “Lars is my moirial. Lazy ass. I do all the work around here. We should change the sign, ya hear? Little man knows it's my bar.” She grins, as if speaking to some imaginary audience. 

Barely smiles in return, only to see the expression fall from Gonnae’s face, as if she had just recalled he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

“But that don’t earn ya no points, oliver twist. I see a single pinky over the counter” She threatens. “You lose the finger. Ya hear me kid?” 

“Loud and clear, Missus Gon,” Says Barely. 

“Uh Oh” The drunk muses, idly stirring a plastic straw in his bourbon. 

“You too, basket case” Gon threatens, flicking the man upside the head. “I see Tiny Tim sneakin’ sips of your four roses I’m kickin’ you out and I MEAN IT I mean it this time” She growls, walking of to go make a shirley. 

“Sureeeeeeeeee” Damial slurs, and then says, to Barely, aside, “She don’t mean it. She loves me. She bought a new horse last week.” He whispers. 

“Some service” Barely jokes, glancing at the prices on the menu board, “For a generous tip.” Perhaps purposefully playing along with Damial to endear himself to the man. The purple cracks up again. Gon re-enters with a Shirley done up all fancy with a squiggly straw and everythin’, and a single extra cherry on a napkin. Barely is glad at the inclusion of the silly straw- it means he doesn’t have to take the necklace out of his mouth. She frowns.

“He’s funny before 2,” The bartender warns, of Damial, setting down Barely’s drink.  “But wait ‘bout three more glasses he gets nasty. Best be outta here by then.” 

She turns to the highblood, “Don’t be messin’ with that kid, Damial. I’m not playin’” She says, before exiting to go help the ladies down the way. 

“I pay your morgageeeeeee Gon” Damial drags out the word as Gon walks away. “You’re compliciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit” He grins, stupid smile not leaving his face as he raises his glass to Barely. 

“L'Chaim” He says, to the rustblood. 

“L’chaim” Barely echos, clinking his shirley with the bourbon. 

The Detective briefly wonders where Damial gets the money, being outta a hive and job and all.

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Barely Shyeck, Mister” He begins, “I’m a detective-” but the purpleblood is laughing at him again. 

“What on Alternia is a Shyeck” He stumbles. “‘N how can somebody be more er less of it?”

“You’d have to ask my lusus” Barely huffs, having had to have had this conversation about his name with more trolls than he’d prefer. 

“Lemme guess” Damial says, poking the boy’s forehead. “Cowwwwwwww” He says, in a remarkable observation of the kid’s ears, horns and tail. 

Barely swipes at his hand. 

“Wow” he says sarcastically. “Are you sure you’re not the detective Mister Damial?” 

“Soda’s a lot cheaper” Damial says, seeming to have either not heard or ignored the childs sarcasm, glancing at his fruity little drink. “An’ less hassle. Gon’s got a sharp eye, kid. Ya just wasted ten caegers. You ain’t gonna get nothin’ past her.” 

“Well, I didn’t come here for the alcohol” The detective admits. “Actually, Mister Damial, I came here to speak with you.” 

The man frowns. 

“If yer lil’ friends dared ya to pour a drink on me or somethin’, run back out before I change yer name to Barely Alive” He dismisses. 

“That’s not it,” Barely says softly, his tail twitching nervously. Thinking on the best way to approach this. All the best lies have a little bit of truth in them. 

“I was just talkin’ to the clerk down the road, Mister Damial, and he spun me a long yarn about you that didn’t regard you very kindly.” He pauses, made anxious by Damial’s silence. 

“Bein’ an educated young man” He says. “I don’t like formin’ an opinion on a troll til i’ve heard both sides of the story. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear yours.” 

Damial stares at the little guy, as if at a complete loss as to whether to take him seriously. If this was some kind of scheme the neighborhood pupas had fashioned to make fun of him it was a great deal more complicated and psychologically taxing than usual. 

“Ain’t nobody who wants to hear me monologue” He huffs. “Everyone in town knows.” 

“I wanna hear” Barely asserts, scooting his stool closer, attempting to sound confident. “I’m new in town, Mister Damial.” 

“You cared enough to waste ten caesars on it?” He slurs. 

“It’s not like I didn’t get soda and cherries outta the thing.” 

“For one cherry,” Damial jokes. “You can hear the whole thing” 

Barely frowns, gnawing on his necklace, frustrated, having asked for that extra cherry specifically and had been looking forward to it. Begrudgingly, he hands it to the ex dairy farmer, who promptly drops it in his bourbon, which must taste completely awful. 

The older troll sighs. For as much as he had insistantly told this tale to many a more hesitant audience, he felt strangely on the spot having been asked so nicely and by a child no less. There was enough decency left in him that recalled he liked to behave respectfully around pupa’s, if given the chance.  

“I used to know this cowboy down in Baskertop” He says quietly, looking to the side. “Mosta the dairy farmers up hereeeee… hav’a deal with one of the cowpokes for spring. We’ve got all cows- on account of bein’ dairy farms. They’ll ask one of the herders to lend them a bull for a spell, to breed a cow and get her producing more milk, and then come fall either give the too old mama to the ranchers or the bab, usually dependin’ on their gender. Partnership as old as time.” 

“Most farmers and cowpokes also argue and hassle and switch around and bargain and shit. But me and Vekeso didn’t really consider wandering about between traders worth our time and had a good deal of trust in each other and decided we would only ever trade amongst ourselves. Easy to grow fond of a man you only see once a season. We started makin’ a whole thing of it. We’d be havin’ each other over for dinners and drinks and just enjoyin’ each other's company even after business was done. I’ve never been one for quadrants” He says, pausing, and finishing his drink, struggling to articulate. 

“...Made a damn fool of myself a couple times when I was young, and got… scared to try again. Vekeso’s no… socialite in his own right. But eventually I realized I harbored some kind of feelin’s fer him. And most other people in our lives noticed how close we were as well and really seemed ta think I had an honest chance… But I was a coward” Damial stops, his voice cracking, he runs his hand through his hair. He stays still for a moment, before flagging down Gon. “Another one” he calls. “Put it on my tab.” 

The woman walks over, already pulling the bottle off the shelf to refill his drink. 

“What’s the magic word?” She mocks. 

“Ffdsssss…” he stumbles. “I have more caegars.” he jokes.

“Please” she huffs. 

“Please” He repeats, mockingly, sipping his new drink.

“What happened then?” Barely asks quietly. 

The purpleblood shuts his eyes for a moment, and then opens them again. 

“Every season” He says softly, but with a voice layered over with disdain that could only be for himself. “Every season I’d wake up and promise myself this’ll be the sweep I tell ‘em. Easy thing to say. Damn harder to do. I kept playin’ chicken.” He says, hand trembling as it grips that glass. 

“Then the illness came through.” he says. “Wiped out everythin’ in a single perigee. Poof.” He gestures. “Gone. I was fucked. I was panickin’. I started puttin’ all my hopes in that meetin’ coming up with Vekeso. Hoped he’d take pity on me enough to at least lend me a moobeast to get back on my feet…And if not that, at least have a piece of advice. I had never needed a hand to pull me outta a ditch more in my entire life” He says. The regret and moroseness of his previous statement solidifying into a harder anger. 

“What does he do…?” Damial slurs, lifting the glass and downing the rest of it, cherry and all. 

“He never shows.” The man growls. “Not even a warnin’. Not a word. Not an apology. Not an explanation. Just gone. And I’m left here wonderin’, what on heaven and alternia did I do wrong?”

“The townfolk already figured me a little messed in the head, fer turnin’ down a fancy job at Dunner’s damn factory. I don’t wanna supervise nobody. Treatin’ employees and cattle like machines ain’t the way I’ve done dairy, or my ancestor before me, or his ancestor before that. I But I really believed Vekeso smarter than to pay townspeoples muttering any mind. So I wrote him a letter. And maybe it was angry and hurt but so was I. I said everythin’ I wanted to say,” He cursed. 

“And he never deigned this worthy of a reply neither.” He growls, staring daggers at the bar wall. “One more, Gon” he calls. 

The young detective pauses his scribbling, flipping over a few pages of his notepad, back to the night he’d spoken with Vekeso, and stared. He turns his necklace against his teeth. He looks at his writing, and then back at the highblood, who looked ready to throw something. Trying to remember just how many glasses Damial had had now and what was his ratio of funny to nasty according to Gon’s metric. Barely wasn’t above a well placed lie, even a quiet one by omission, but sometimes, it just feels like the truth is owed to somebody, and it seems long, long overdue for Damial. 

“If you’d hear me out, Mister Damial” The child says. “I think I know why.”

The man turns his head to the kid, staring, not with much curiosity but more annoyance as if he could not imagine this to be true. Barely swallows.

“I talked with him just yesterday, Mister.” He says. “Did you know that after the Fleetrail went in, Vekeso and the other cowpokes had been grazin’ on that Redgrass Ranch, the mayor lent to em?” He says, pausing for an answer, and upon getting none, continues. 

“He told me offhand,” Barely says. “That since it was the Mayor’s land, there were all kinds of rules and restrictions on it” he says. “One of them bein’ rules on who you could sell cattle too” He stumbles. 

Damial stares blank eyed at the wall, and Barely begins to ponder if he was even sober enough to comprehend what was being said to him. Suddenly, his face lights up and he throws his glass at the wall with full force. 

“motherFUCKER” the purple raises his voice, “I HOPE HE DIES IN HIS STUPID SHIRT.”and Barely flinches. Gon’s eye’s widen with rage, and she sets down the bottle she’s holding. 

“Out” The woman insists, pointing at the door.

“Fuck off, Gon” The man curses. 

“You have ten seconds” She hisses. “To get out of my bar” 

“Or what?” The purple mocks. 

Slowly, the woman pulls a pistol from her pocket, aiming it squarely at Damial’s head. 

“Ten” She says. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He hisses. 

“Nine” She says.

“I didn’t even throw it AT somebody” says Damial, as if this makes it better somehow. 

“Eight” She growls. 

“Bitch” 

“Seven” the bartender insists. 

Damial stares into her eyes for a moment, and then slowly, raises to his feet, tossing his stool over. 

“FIne” He hisses, storming out of the building. Gon watches to make sure he’s really gone for a moment before lowering her gun. 

“You okay kid?” She asks. 

“Yes Missus Gon” Says Barely, dropping his necklace temporarily and downing the last of his shirley and walking out to follow the highblood.

“Kid!” Gon pleads. “Don’t be an idiot!” She says, but the young man is already gone. 

Damial is sitting on the curb outside. “I fucking hate that bitch” The man is muttering to himself. “He thinks he’s so much better than everyone. If I could kill him, I would.” 

“Vekeso…?” Barely asks slowly. 

“THE MAYOR” Damial snaps back. 

“Don’t Shercattle have a different Mayor than Baskertop?” The kid asks timidly. 

“It’s a fuckin’, muni-cip-pall-ity” Damial slurs. “The three towns are too small, fleet gave us one bastard for all of em. BUT WHO CARES. I’ll kill him. Vekeso too. Who gives a fuck.” 

The child stares, before sitting down next to the much larger man. 

“I’m not sayin’ you did nothin’ wrong, Mister Damial.” He starts. “But did you mention how dire things were up in Shercattle in your letter?”

“No. It wasn’t ‘bout that” The man says, hands gripping his sides, as if restless with the lack of drink in his hand. 

“I’m just tryin’” Barely says. “Too look at this from another pointa view. I didn’t talk with Vekeso for long, but… From what I saw, he really seemed to be a very private person, the kinda troll who thinks long an’ hard on what they’re sayin’ before sayin’ it.” He dares. 

Damial holds himself close. With the tired look in his eyes of a troll who had given a great deal of thought to Vekeso, and all his mannerisms for a long while, and couldn’t argue.

“And somethin’ like some regulation tearin’ apart a friendship he’d had for sweeps, really seems like somethin’ to toil about. I ain’t sayin’ it was right of him to not tell you nothin’. But…” Barely exhales. “You didn’t really give him a lotta chance to give ya any grace, not mentionin’ yer situation in yer letter. He’d have no idea how dire things were. All he’d know is you’re suddenly very very angry with him, and that could easily put a troll off a conversation he mighta already been scared and guilty to be havin’.” 

Damial seems to ponder this for a long while. Staring up at the pinks and greens of the night sky, where, in the distance, impressive storm clouds had started to gather, cutting off the view of the moons with color tinted stripes and clumps that danced across the horizon like a painting. Even a troll as big as he was, could feel small under a view like that. 

“It don’t matter” he says finally, his voice cracking. 

“Vekeso could hand me a hive an’ a cow and farm back on a silver platter. I don’t even know if I could work it” He says, struggling to keep his voice even. 

“Even if he wanted me then- big IF. I’m not the troll I was a sweep ago. What could I even offer a lover, or a friend, even if everythin’ smoothed out with a bow on top. No farm, no hive, no job. Jus’ layin’ in the hole I dug wishin’ I could feel somethin’ again. If there was anything to love about me, it’s long gone.” The purpleblood chokes, staring at his shaking hands. “I’m hardly a troll anymore.” He whispers.

Perhaps this was too much for a troll as young as Barely to handle. But he was nothing if not ambitious. And nothing if not committed to his deep desire to help others. A childlike desperate want for the world to be more fair than it was. A trait Alternia works hard to steal from his children. 

“It’s one thing” Barely says, “To be true to your values when the going is easy, Mister. It’s another when things are hard. A lotta highbloods would jump at an offer like Mister Dunner’s, morals be damned. But you stuck yer feet inta the ground when you had anythin’ and everythin’ to lose. That’s not somethin’ somebody who’s nobody does. I can’t speak for Vekeso” He pauses, standing and offering a hand to the purple who was crouched over the side of the road, blinking back tears. 

“But I think you’re a great deal more offa troll than a lot of people are.” 

Damial shuts his eyes for a moment, and wipes his face, but then slowly, takes the young man's hand and stands up. He struggles to pull himself together for a bit, at a complete loss for what to say, before changing the subject. 

“Where’d you say you were from again, Barely?” He asks. 

“Well, you never asked” The rustblood pauses. “I’ve been makin’ my way up from from Umbra” He admits. 

“Umbra?” The purple repeats. “Are ya serious? How’d a proper little gentleman like you spring from a sinkhole like that.” He retorts. 

“Hey!” Barely says, playfully punching the older man’s side, which probably hurt him less than a mosquito bite. “Be careful how ya talk about my sinkhole.” He warns. 

Damial laughs. “Right. Right. Sorry.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Me n’ my brother owned the place” Barely threatens with extensive hyperbole. “We were cleanin’ it right up.” 

“Sorry. My bad.” He  grins. “Didn’t even ask you what case yer workin’, detective.” Damial realizes. “But thank you kindly for speaking with me. Yer a good kid” He says, his gaze softening as he stares at the child, who beams. 

“I owe you anythin’ for figurin’ that all out?” He asks, referring to the situation with Vekeso, and the reason why he hadn’t showed. 

“Well,” Barely pauses. “Usually, but I know how your money is, Mister Damial” He dismisses. 

“It’s no thing” Damial says, touching his cheek. “One of the cashiers down the road takes pity on me. She keeps sneakin’ me twenties while her boss ain’t around. I could get one for you.” 

Barely freezes, staring down at his notepad, and back at the purple. Processing what Damial has just told him. 

“Really- you don’t have to do that, Mister” he stutters. 

He was a great deal good at solving cases, maybe even too good. But he hadn’t been a detective long, and had not yet run into the conundrum of solving a case that every moral bone in his body did not want to tell his client was solved. His pan tosses and turns over this problem, before he glances at a clock in a shop window, and quickly replaces it with another problem. 

“I’m late” Barely says, paling. 

“What?” Damial frowns, as the kid starts speedwalking down the road. 

“I gotta be at the DunnerMart ten minutes ago, Mister Damial, I’m sorry!” He squeaks. 

“Here” Damial says, picking up the kid and hurrying him along with his own legs, which were longer and faster. They must have made it back to the main street by the train station at no later than 3:13. But as the DunnerMart gets closer,

“Wait!” The boy pleads suddenly to the purpleblood, and he stops. In the distance, he can see Mr. Dunner himself conversing with the fleet sheriff.

“Why, it was two hours ago, I really thought he’d show” Dunner says. “I guess the thief played me like a fiddle, officer. He couldn’t have been older than six. I’m too soft for children.” 

No, Barely thinks. Come on! He wasn’t even fifteen minutes late! He looks further down the way, to where Miss Laryan is sitting at the station working on her crossword. But there was no getting to her without going past DunnerMart. In the distance, a train horn blows. Here was the crossroads. He could turn Damial in right now, and set everything right with the shopkeep. Or… or… what?? What could he do? He could not even think of a second option.

“His red looked rust enough, but honestly, he had a unique set of ears and tail. He coulda been a mutant, but you know, it’s never polite to ask” Dunner grins. 

Barely hears his heart beating in his chest as he stays frozen in Damial’s arms. His ears are pulled flat and back as the child panics. 

“They talkin’ ‘bout you, kid?” Damial frowns, looking at the sheriff, and then the train. 

“The train!” Barely stumbles. “We gotta get on the train! Mister Damial,” He says, gripping his new friend. “Come with me and Miss Laryan to Creekturn” 

“It stops to load for like ten minutes, kid. They’ll just follow you on.” Damial deduces.

“Why” Dunner says, suddenly turning directly to face them in the distance. “That’s him right there” He says to the fleet trolls, who also turn. 

The purpleblood sets him down. “Listen kid” He stumbles. “I’ll distract them, okay? I’ll keep them off the train” He says. “You run to Laryan,” he orders. 

“No!” Barely squeaks. “Come with us, Damial, you’ll get in trouble!” 

“They’ll just follow you on the train!” Damial snaps, raising his voice. “Can’t you piece that together, detective? I gotta distract them, GO!!!” He shouts, and Barely stumbles backwards as the giant purple charges towards the sheriff. He remains dazed for a moment, before, tears leaking from his eyes, Barely sprints off to Laryan.

“Barely-” She stutters. 

“We have to GO” He begs, choking on the words, pulling her towards the train. She seems to catch on quick, and the two of them run and run, not looking back, they go from cabin to cabin to cabin down the train til they must be right next to the engine. Barely curls up in a ball, shutting his eyes and burying his face in his hands, sure that the fleet officials had gotten past Damial and would be barging in after them at any moment. That necklace must be made of something sturdy, the way it doesn’t dent even when his jaw is that clenched. Come on, he pleads, come on, and finally, after what feels like ages, the vehicle lurches into motion. Only then does he open his eyes, catching his breath, scooting close to the window and looking back at Shercattle. 

Damial is still visible at the station, fighting off all three other trolls. They didn’t make it on the train. For a moment, the purpleblood keeps his upper hand, maybe just due to his size, but… he is still drunk. And thus slow, and clumsy, and eventually, he is tackled to the ground, and Barely blinks, hand pressed to the window, as Damial gets smaller and smaller in the distance until he can’t make out the troll at all. 

.

.

.

.

.

A couple hours later, he has calmed down, but not by much. The Detective is frantically sorting through his notes, organizing them on the train by some logic that could not be easily deduced. Miss Laryan is watching the rain throw itself at the window, distant flashes of lightning illuminating the night, thunder echoing over the sound of the train. 

“Barely” She says softly, having been frantically explained the situation, with Dunner, and Damial, and everything, by the frantic child hours prior. 

“Remember when we talked earlier?” She says. “About curses, and you said some of them were plain ol’ chance?” 

“It all fits together somehow!” The child insists, raising his voice. “I know it! I'M SO CLOSE!” he snaps. 

“A cow illness, darling?” She says, resting a hand on the teenager's shoulder. “What else could that be but an act of the Messiahs?”

Barely opens his mouth, and then closes it. 

“I understand,” She says quietly. “How badly you wanna solve this, find the reason for it all, but can it really be worth it to put yourself in so much danger, for somethin’ that might not have an answer at all? Howsa ‘bout we go up to Creekturn, and just send you on your way to the city, baby. I can sort out the mess with people suspectin’ me and Damial myself” 

“Miss-” Barely chokes, “Don’t say that” He stumbles, and doesn’t make it further, burying his head in her shoulder and starting to cry. Laryan wraps her arms around him, rocking him back and forth as she holds him close. 

“Sometimes” She says. “There is no mystery, love. There is no conspiracy. There is no one troll to point at and blame no matter how badly you wish there was. Sometimes bad things happen to good people without any rhyme or reason at all. And there's no point to tearin’ it all apart” She says, rubbing his back. “And this might just be one of those”

Barely does not answer for a moment, his nails dig into Miss Laryan unconsciously as he stares out the window at the violence of the ongoing storm, eyes tight with enough fury to crack glass. He spits out his necklace.

“Not this time” he growls.

[fluffypotatey]

Leon for the send me a character, please?

favorite thing about them

he’s just a guy lol Leon is just a knight who knew Arthur pre-Merlin & post-Merlin and suffers because of it

least favorite thing about them

he has barely any screen time to really develop as a character. most of the stuff i enjoy about him are headcanons lmao

favorite line

“Driving you mad isn’t he?” <- thinking he’s joking with Merlin about killing King Arthur

“I’ll, uh, leave you to your poetry then.” <- Sir Leon the Long Suffering 🫡 witnessing his king and said king’s manservant struggle to come up with a lie for why they are in an empty corridor at night. alONE

brOTP

love his dynamic with the other round table knights! they’re so goofy altogether 🥰

OTP

don’t have one 👉👈

nOTP

ummmmmm idk i’m indifferent/neutral to most of his ships

random headcanon

he names all his weaponry. you know that “these are my ladies” meme? that’s Leon but with his weapons (i headcanon that his favorite is crossbows)

unpopular opinion

he not a bad or super bland character canonically; he’s just underused :( when he does have his moments, they’re great! just wished he had more

song i associate with them

uhhhhhh idk never thought of one sorry

favorite picture of them

uh the one that used to be a s2 or s3 poster for bbc merlin but it’s just Leon. like Leon’s face is everywhere. it is the funniest shit ever and i don’t know who made it despite my hour long search T^T

Send me a character and i’ll list my thoughts on them!

[ad-astra-per-asparagus]

Ok dumping my thoughts right here now that I’ve collected them since reading Batman 138. It’s a doozy, so bear with me.

Honestly, the premise of Gotham War is intriguing and could’ve been good if not for the sloppy execution. It’s interesting to see Bruce’s psyche rapidly declining, but how Zdarsky is going about it is ham-fisted and forced. First off, Selina’s method is outlandish and riddled with plot holes. There’s no skirting around that. Now logically I could see the batfamily members not declaring an allegiance to either side because both Bruce and Selina are in the wrong here; Bruce is losing his mind because Zur is hijacking it while Selina thinks training criminals will magically solve all violent crime in Gotham and everything will be sunshine and rainbows. But having the kids blindly fall into line with Selina because they agree with her plan is dogwater writing that I’m surprised Zdarsky cooked up after his spectacular Daredevil run. Have them form their own faction and let them actually act like they have agency and purpose instead of shoving them into roles that don’t fit.

Now I’m a little skeptical on the whole Jason/failsafe stuff. On one end, it’s a daring concept to play with. It shows how Bruce is going off the deep end and raises the stakes of the plot. On the other end, it’s going to drive an enormous wedge between Jason and Bruce for the foreseeable future. Like, there is no forgiving Bruce for this easily. Maybe that’s a good thing though, considering Jason for the past few years has been cycling through the same character arc over and over again like a washing machine that spits out clothes that are more worn-out after every load. Taking him out of the batfamily fold and inserting him into his own corner of DC sequestered away from Batman might actually force DC to write him organically, depending on whether or not Jason doesn’t go insane himself because what Bruce did to him was quite literally torture that will now be perpetual. Wowza.

My next gripe is the timing between comics. Batman and Robin’s timeframe is vague, but after reading 138 it makes zero sense why Damian would steadfastly stick by Bruce’s side—unless of course B&R happens way later, and somehow Bruce regains minor control of his mental state. Or the most realistic explanation being that the writers didn’t communicate the timelines, leaving their stories to contradict each other. But what are comics if not zany contradictions of stories? So I guess this gripe can slide…for now. Benefit of the doubt to Williamson at least because he planned B&R way in advance, meanwhile Gotham War was strung together as a myopic copy of Marvel’s Civil War in order to—I’m spitballing here—have Bruce be alone for a while in his own comics because he’s “a loner”…despite his character being, at his core, a family man, and whose character revolved around family for decades. Family rift stories can be good. Packed with drama. Exciting. This is none of the above.

Finally, arguably my biggest complaint about this dumpster fire, is Tim. Writers tend to be biased toward characters, I understand that, but when favoritism bleeds into the writing it sours the story altogether. Having Tim assume this role of “Bruce’s savior” is incredibly cheap and a little laughable at times. I see that they’re trying to establish him as important again, reliving his glory days as the Robin who helped guide Bruce back onto the right path after Jason’s death, but throwing other characters under the bus to lift him up is crazy. Especially Damian, because Damian saved his dad’s life twice in the last few months. Seriously, I’d brush it off if Tim hadn’t told Damian he was the one who helped Bruce out of the darkness while Damian only pushed Bruce further into it. Paraphrasing, but that’s the general idea: Tim is a saint and the rest of his siblings (Cassandra? Who?) are a cut below him when it comes to helping dear old dad out of his bad place. That hug was cute, but it was sugar spread on a pile of shit.

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

🦋 Hello~

Could you do scenarios ; How the Hetalia guys would motivate and help with studying, basically making sure their S/O stay on top of school work. Any character is fine, you can pick, no pressure.

Tho speaking of who Is your favourite character? 🍬 you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable it’s cool

America, China, Canada, and France helping/motivating their S/O with schoolwork

note: i’m sorry it took awhile, idk how to format it yet. oh also i couldn't finish canada since idk what to write for him (sorry again) my favorite character kinda depends on my mood but Hungary, Canada, and Switzerland are my top three.

America

He would try and help you study but sadly your face is too distracting for him.

So, he ends up just looking for articles or books that can help you.

America would force you on a burger break because while he cares for your education, your inner peace is more important to him.

He would hang out in the room you’re studying in, (or you're studying where he's working) occasionally looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. He always compliments your good work after checking too.

Alfred hugs your back, resting his head on your shoulder. “Lookin’ good, babe.” You can’t tell whether he said that to you, or if it was directed towards your work. Either way the statement is still flattering though. You look up at him to notice him looking right back at you. Alfred chuckles once you look back to your schoolwork.

China

China will be really helpful, he’d probably encourage note taking and other good methods to remember things.

He’d make you some tea, or just water if you dislike that. He doesn’t want you to forget about staying hydrated.

Wouldn’t distract you as much as some the others might, he finds your schoolwork to be very important.

Altogether very helpful, does his best to help you with it. He probably knows a lot too with how ancient he is.

"S/O, I made you some tea! This helps with memory so it should help you a lot." He smiles, placing the cup down gently for you. "Thank you." You sighed looking to him, you appreciated the stuff he did for you. It might not be much but it helps. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, "Call for me if you need anything." then he leaves. Even if he never stays for long, it's still nice when he does check in on you.

Canada

He makes you some pancakes to eat while working, might even try to shape it into something cute like a heart for you.

Extra helpful if you’re writing something. I feel like that’d be his best subject.

The way he’d help with that is spelling corrections, telling you different ways to phrase something you said.

If it’s anything else he’s still helpful, mostly just there for moral support though.

(I WROTE SOMETHING HERE WHY THE FUCK DID IT DISSAPEAR?!?!??! i'm so sorry canada lovers but i aint rewriting that shit😭)

France

France is the classic "i will help you study!" but you end up getting nothing done because of him.

Keeps asking you to take a break, he's kind of needy about your affection. Will try and look sad if you say no, does his own version of puppy dog eyes.

Eventually he gives up and goes to at least make you a snack, you deserve it for being such a determined worker.

He'll come and go, definitely the least helpful but he is pretty fun so that kind of makes up for it.

"S/OOO~." He whispers in your ear, his persistence for your attention is starting to become sad with how desperate he's getting. Currently, your lovely boyfriend is trying to convince you how taking another break will help your work ethic. You love him loads but he's really time consuming. Sighing, you turn around and grab his shoulders. "Francis. If you give me another hour to work, I will go out and have dinner with you. Okay?" He seems pleased with this compromise, already going off to get ready and plan where you two will go.

[ichorblossoms]

wip wednesday first edition yeeeeeehhaaaawwww

cannot guarantee this will happen every wednesday but! i am...trying to get more into the writing habit and testing to see if posting little snippets every so often will help

this is half-edited first draft stuff that has not been proofread by anyone but myself so a) don't expect like, novel-quality stuff b) i still need to figure out names so there are placeholders sometimes c) scenes may end up entirely different down the line or scrapped altogether ✌️

--- [P1- Yarrow POV, he/him for Yarrow, they/them for Grimm*] *there might be some instances of Yarrow using they/them here, on account of this being half-edited <3

Yarrow felt not unlike a small child who was told to patiently sit and wait until an adult came to pick him up, except he was a twenty-three-year-old in a saloon, in a town he didn’t know existed until two days ago.

After a greasy lunch, Grimm had stood and announced they were going to find the two of them a place to stay for at least the night, and that it would be back in an hour or two. And now, about an hour after that, Yarrow was left alone, however many miles away from <city> with nothing but a wallet (still with $30 in it) and an outlaw’s word. I might be dead within a week.

He took a deep breath, trust them, they would have killed you by now if that was the plan. Hell, they could have left you in the desert. Maybe Grimm just didn’t want blood on their hands and decided to leave now… around and around his mind went. Yarrow tugged and fiddled with the bandana around his neck, feeling all the while that it was a shitty costume and not the real thing.

Yarrow sat there long enough for the after-work crowd to begin shuffling in. Rugged miners covered in dust began to take seats at the booths, chatting about how they were looking forward to a meal or complaining about how much of a dick their boss was today. I hope I’m not taking anyone’s spot. A few eyed him curiously, but didn’t give him much thought, not enough to warrant talking to him, anyways. He couldn’t tell if the bouncing leg was nervous or normal fidgeting.

Grimm came through the door twenty or so minutes later and drew no attention as they nonchalantly walked over to the booth they had left Yarrow, “Let’s get going, got us a place for the night.”

[the two of them stand at a shabby motel, not at the front entrance]

This was about what he expected, in all honesty. 

“So, what room number are we staying in tonight?”

“Didn’t catch it.”

He bit down what was probably the fiftieth question he had for Grimm that day and trusted that Grimm had a plan. Yarrow wasn’t sure what kind of trust he would have to earn to be let in on said plans, but he could admit he was disappointed he hadn’t already earned it. The manners usually work…

When Grimm stopped, it wasn’t at the front of one of the rooms, but a back window. They held out the two grocery bags towards Yarrow, studying the window instead of making eye contact. Yarrow took the bags with a suspicion as to where this was going. Trying to be remotely helpful, he looked around for security cameras and discovered there weren’t any, at least, not any that he could see. Odd, they were all over the place in <city>.

A click brought his attention back to Grimm, who opened the window and was now sliding it open. He could see a small room with a single bed, nightstand, chair, coffee table, and presumably a bathroom or closet.

“After you,” the outlaw flourished towards the motel room, as if to give Yarrow the honors of trespassing. He handed the grocery bags to Grimm.

Working out maybe once a month back in <city> had, predictably, done him no favors in getting up and over the chest-height window ledge. It took him two tries to hoist himself up and over, and he hoped for the sake of Grimm’s plan and his dignity there were truly no security cameras around. Once he was safely back on two feet, Grimm handed him the bags through the window, once again without making eye contact, though this time it was probably out of embarrassment.

Unsurprisingly, Grimm was up and through the window in a single smooth arc of motion, looking way cooler than they had the right to. It didn’t even snag on the window. 

[inarizakismanagers]

A/N: hey guys sorry for not posting in like forever, I do plan on writing more for this fic but releases will be slow. I may start writing some smaller drabbles and one shots more often, so feel free to message me for requests or leave them in the ask me section :))

Chapter 5

You woke with a pounding headache from the previous day's sex and alcohol induced coma, all of your decisions from the night before had hit you like a truck and now you had to mend the destruction they left in their wake.

The argument with your boyfriend, Yuji, would be particularly unpleasant to deal with however you knew the longer you left it the angrier he would become. His pride and ego had been hurt last night and he had been embarrassed in front of other people, a feeling of dread begins to pool in your stomach at the thought of his reaction. You had had first hand experience with your boyfriend's wrath all too often and it was not something you were looking forward to having to face.

You sat there contemplating your options, on the one hand you could get up and leave the stranger's apartment - Suna’s apartment to go deal with Yuji or you could avoid him today altogether. 

The thought of leaving him, breaking up with him had occurred to you many times but never as much as right now. There was no way you were going to go back to him in that relationship but at the same time the thought of attempting to break up with Yuji instilled terror in you. You couldn’t imagine how he would react or what he would do to you if you tried to break it off with him.

You settled on avoiding thinking about the subject, for now at least,you shifted your weight on the plush mattress turning to face Suna. You thought about the night you had spent with him, your cheeks dusting in pink feeling suddenly slightly self conscious at the thought.

Right now you were staring at dilemma number two, you didn't know what to do in this situation. You had gone home with Suna that night but you had no idea if you should’ve left already, you hadn't had many one night stands and the ones you did have the guy ended up leaving before you had woken up in the morning.

Not wanting to overstay your welcome and suddenly feeling in desperate need of a warm shower and change of clothes, you began to move to sit up and grab your clothes from the floor.

“Where are you going?” you heard a sleepy voice ask, you turned to face Suna heat rushing to your cheeks as you took in his form, his hair was a slightly tousled brown mop on his head, half lidded deep brown eyes watching you take him in. Your eyes dropped lower to his perfectly toned body and snake tattoo, for the love of mercy it was enough to make you wanna bash your head against a wall, why was he so freaking fine.

“You like what you see, darling” at that you snap your head back lowering it slightly in embarrassment, of course he caught you eye fucking him. “I’m going home, I need to shower and I have a lot of work to get done” you reply to his earlier question continuing to grab your stuff from the floor where it had been haphazardly thrown the night before. “Just shower here and let me make you some food, you haven’t eaten since yesterday it's nearly 4pm” he says checking his watch his tone is firm leaving no room for argument.

You’re slightly taken aback by his concern, but nod your head all the same when he raises an eyebrow in question challenging you to refuse.

“What would you like to eat?”

It was strange for Suna to wake up this morning, arms wrapped around your still sleeping, naked form. He wasn’t complaining though, he had only been able to fantasise for so long about having you in his bed, arms around you, kissing your lips. Now he’s got you where he’s only been able to dream of having you and he doesn’t make a single move to wake you. Too scared that when you wake up he’ll lose this perfect moment. Eventually, he feels you stir and closes his eyes, maybe if he pretends to sleep you’ll lull off too. You turn to face him, he feels your breath fan out on him and it takes everything in him to not wrap and arm around your hips another around the back of your head and kiss you.

Much to his horror you begin to get up and get dressed, why are you leaving? He thought the two of you had had a good night, he wanted to make you something to eat in hopes he could ask you on a date, a proper date because you deserved to be taken out and courted properly.

The other night he had been over excited at the thought of having you in his bed that he had abandoned his plan of asking you out on a date first. But he would do it right from now on, not just take you home after a night out.

He had convinced you to stay and shower and have food, he offered you a t-shirt, a pair of boxers and some joggers of his to wear as the only clothes you had to go home in was the skimpy dress you wore clubbing and torn up knickers. Of course when you put them on he saw that you were swimming in them, the clothes clearly being a couple sizes too big for you, nonetheless he felt a pang in his chest at the sight of you in his clothes. Something about seeing you in them just felt right to him.

He had made sure to cook whilst you had been showering, making two bowls of spicy beef ramen, setting the table. Normally, he’d have a maid prepare all of this but he felt a sense of contentment in being the one to take care of you.

Feelings like those were scarce in his line of work, so when they came you had to grab a hold of them and protect them at all cost. He thought more about how you would react when you found out what exactly it was that he did, as far as you were concerned he owned a nightclub that's it. Maybe that's all you needed to know at least for now, he was scared that you’d run if he told you, you were sweet and so pure with an easy going air that put people at ease. He, on the other hand, radiated an unapproachable, harsh demeanour that had people averting their gaze in fear when he looked at them.

The more he thought about it the more ridiculous he felt for thinking that you would want to be with him, however, he was nothing if not persistent and he had already decided you would be his even if he had to wait for you to realise it too.

[halcionic]

UPDATE 1, the disinformation age; —

word count; — 37,548 words, with 5 chapters

personal thoughts; — tda, while i like the direction it's going, isn't quite what i'd intended to set out to write, so i'm curious to see if the original intention of it becomes a new wip altogether. it's in need of some heavy, heavy editing, for characterization and generally plot stuff and all that, but i'm enjoying the characters coming to life.

characters introduced so far that my partner said "wow, that's horrific, i love it"; — agent frankenstein, agent eve, nickei nines

favorite side character; — wraith, who deserves an entire arc of her own but likely will not get one, at least not in this draft.

plot realizations; — tda, while being based on the concept of a superhero society's implications, seems to be straying further from superheroes entirely? and nickei seems to be developing, unfortunately, a Complex.

favorite excerpt from chapter five thus far; —

“I don’t want to have this argument with you.”  “Yeah, can’t remember I’m your prisoner. Ruins your wet dream, doesn’t it? Newsflash, Nines —” Ren says theatrically, sitting up on the cot with a wild gleam in his eye that hasn’t been there in days. “No one coerced me into leaving my post. No one had to con me into killing you. The disgust and the filth that runs this city — the A.R.C. Initiative as a whole — can’t you see that you are the best and most disgusting example of their success?”  Perhaps visiting Ren had been a bad idea.  Nickei’s temper has never flared the same way as Ren’s, and that is no exception now, tilting his head to the sit as the words process, approaching Ren and the antsy way he moves.  Nickei leans forward, invading Ren’s personal space, and like an idiot, Ren doesn’t bother leaning back. He’s never been able to back down from a challenge. Is this a challenge?  “I am the only reason you are alive,” Nickei says lowly, reaching forward to grab Ren by the collar. How strange it is, that he is the reason Ren is alive and Ren is the reason he died. “You can air your grievances to the crematorium you would’ve gone to, do you understand me?”  Ren, defiant to the last, understands every word and will not appeal to any of it. “No,” Ren spits, though this time there is no saliva landing on Nickei’s face. “And one day, Nines, you are going to see that keeping me alive was the worst decision you could’ve made.” 

taglist; — (ask to be +/-) (this is an old taglist from when the project was first introduced, fair warning)

@themadmage @charlesjosephwrites @pimclementine @username-in-waiting @reckless-rider

[lightboundhellhound]

the elegang’s ACNH islands

i’m putting everyone’s gameplay styles and island details under the cut

elsie: 3 star island, blue airport, native fruit is apples. wants only the most interesting villager designs. currently dating coco, but their emotional support villager is stinky, who they named their cat after. their island aesthetic is cozy and pink, a little disorganized but still cute (trying so hard to get a 4 star island)

searra: 3 star island, orange airport, native fruit is peaches. wants cute villagers, doesn’t really care about personalities so long as she vibes with the character. chabwick randomly moved onto the island and he wanted to get rid of him, but eventually she got attached. island aesthetic is nonexistent ksjdkffk he tries to make things look good but doesn’t put that much effort in so

jessica: 3 star island, blue airport, native fruit is oranges. tried getting only aquatic themed villagers but eventually gave up on the game altogether lmao, spent several months looking for aquatic villagers before burning herself out. curly is her worst nightmare but he won’t leave. her island aesthetic is “mermaids in atlantis”. that’s what she calls it. seashell DIY stuff, blue things, stuff like that

aidan: 4 star island, yellow airport, native fruit is pears. wants only the grittiest villagers, but this is animal crossing, so theyre hard to come by. only has bluebear because she was xyr friends favorite villager, and when that friend died aidan vowed to have bluebear in every animal crossing game xe ever plays. also tipper is because he adores cows. his island aesthetic is super halloween themed, and he uses custom designs to add gore

keith: 2 star island, green airport, native fruit is cherries. doggie island <3 jitters was one of his starters that he couldn’t part with. his island aesthetic is. um. whatever sparks joy. its so cluttered but at least he’s happy

selene: 5 star island, blue airport, native fruit is peaches. selene is a hardcore crosser. she needs the cutest villagers and they have to be diverse personalities. the only duplicates allowed are sisterly, normal, smug, and cranky, and even then there can only be two. she also cant have two of the same species. also no jocks. ever. her island aesthetic is greek mythology, lots of statues and aesthetic paths and stuff. she’s worked very hard on her island and her five stars are well earned. also i know greek mythology is canon to the element trials and not mythology cos it’s real but. shut up kajdjfkf