#I suck at drawing fighting so maybe this is the time to learn?

[nopeferatu]

ik that art is subjective and there is not one "true" meaning that one is meant to derive from a work but honestly, some people's readings of media ARE wrong and dumb and bad, lol

[pomefioredove]

"your lips would look so much better on mine" with idia please,,

hhhh confident idia brainrot is taking over help.. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCHH TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

OOH A CHALLENGE FOR ME. I will do my best for you anon!

summary: "your lips would look so much better on mine" type of post: short fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread, a game of chicken :)

If there's anything Idia Shroud is, it's competitive.

Over months of your friendship, you've learned one sure thing about him: challenging Idia to a game is a death sentence.

It's not just that he's played just about everything; it's that if he hasn't, he'll pick it up within minutes. And he'll play to the death.

"You've got a warrior's spirit, alright," you mutter, watching him pummel your character for the thousandth time.

Idia pauses his victory lap to smirk. "Awww, mad? Gonna rage quit?"

"I won the second time!"

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face just for it to fall back into place right after.

"I let you win, okay? It was a pity round. You suck at fighting games,"

"I do not!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the scoreboard," he grins, drawing the controller closer to his chest. "Another round?"

You don't like that smug look on his face.

"Actually... I want to play something else,"

Idia groans dramatically, flopping back on his bed and lying like a corpse. "If it's that thing again..."

"It's not the thing," you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "It's new. And it's one that I'll actually win."

That seems to intrigue him. He props himself up on his elbows. "Someone's getting cocky. What're we talking about?"

"You're one to talk. I want to play chicken,"

"Chicken? What are you, five?"

You elbow him in the ribs and he makes a noise like a deflating balloon.

"Not that kind. In this version, the loser is whoever gets embarrassed first,"

Idia, still cradling his side, raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to die of cringe. Are you serious?"

"What, afraid?"

He lowers his eyes. You're playing a dangerous game now; challenging him to a test of wills is walking into the lion's den. But you're not wrong, either; it's painfully easy to embarrass him.

"Fine, if it'll make you happy... one game,"

You clap, and then turn on the bed to face him. The "game" begins, and... nothing happens.

You stare. He stares. The air is heavy with... something.

Admittedly, you hadn't really thought this far ahead. Now you're confronted with the reality of actually having to do something, and...

Finally, Idia scoffs. "You're going to have to try a little harder than making eye contact,"

"I'm thinking!" you say quickly, feeling your face warm. "I'd like to see you do better!"

"Psh," he rolls his eyes, though he seems to be caught in a similar dilemma, not actually wanting to make the first move.

"...You're so cringe. Fine, okay?"

Idia scoots closer, using his height to his advantage by actually sitting up straight for once.

You catch him glancing between you and the shelves behind you. He leans in, his breath grazing against your neck. And his voice drops to a whisper.

"Your lips would look so much better on mine,"

You fall backwards, though you're not really sure why.

"Dude!" you sputter, struggling for words. "That was your opener?!"

Idia blinks, looming over you, taking his time revel in your reaction... and then he grins.

"You're like, the worst gamer in history. One corny sentence and you K.O.? And I'm supposed to be the shy one... you're even worse than me!" he snickers. "What would you do if I actually did kiss you? Implode?"

You groan, and sit up. "Alright, I get it, you win! Let's go back to your dumb fighting game,"

Idia stands, blocking your path with that same grin.

"No, no, I like your game way more. Let's play some more rounds- maybe I'll even let you win one,"

[fatkish]

Hii,could you do a part 2 of Aizawa x suicidal child? Please :)

Maybe they did hurted themselves or just confort

Father Aizawa x Suicidal Reader Pt.2

I’ll Never let you go

You and your dad went to the hospital the next day to get your mental health evaluated. Turns out it’s shit. The doctors suggested that you should be on suicide watch and be put in the psychiatric ward for the mean time until they deemed you safe for the partial hospitalization program. While you were in the psychiatric ward the doctors suggested that you see a therapist and create a safety plan. So you asked if you could bring an instrument or at least a pen and paper to write with so you could write songs and journal.

It took some time but you got settled and your dad visited you every day. As the days went by you were writing and journaling. Things didn’t seem that bright right away but that was fine.

(Play the song)

You light a candle just to see in the dark

You're only running on a fuse, and it's been falling apart again

I'm by your side, I hope at least that helps

And life sucks sometimes, it's feeling more like hell

When your dad would visit he would tell you about your cats at home, the mischief his students got into, etc. sometimes Uncle Hizashi would come with him and you two would pretend to jam out to music he’d play. But even though you smiled and laughed there was still a darkness lurking beneath the surface of your mind.

And all the walls around you are turning to ashes

And the flames surround you when everything crashes

Don't hold your head, 'cause it'll all work out

And don't let go of my hand, I won't let you down

The silence is deafening

Keep fighting, you're trembling

But it's fine, it'll be alright

See the pain in your eyes, but we still survive

As you talked to your therapist about the reasons why you feel like dying the relief of getting it out in the open was momentary before the weight of your feelings would come crashing down. You and your therapist would talk about how your dad found you as you were planning to end it all. You talked about how your dad would feel if you went ahead with it and he was too late. How it would affect him and others and how they would feel if you died.

Just don't forget about me

When you feel like you're drowning

I know it's hard to try

If it gets rough, I'm by your side

As the days passed and you talked to the doctors they eventually saw that you were ready for a partial hospitalization program. This program would have you visit the hospital and have a certain amount of hours you would need to spend in the classes at the hospital. These classes had other people in them and was a sort of rehab program for many different people. The classes were about a bunch of different topics that focused on mental health.

When everything

Is falling apart, put your head on my shoulder

Don't cry, just another bad night

You'll make it out alive

When everything is taking its toll, I'll pull you a little closer

If you slip, I'm falling too

And I'll never let you go (never let you go)

You learned a lot of different things like how different mental disorders affected the brain and its functions. You took art therapy and music therapy classes where you would draw something based on the prompt or you’d share a song and explain how it made you feel. All in all, it was very enlightening and helpful.

If your clouds are grey then so are mine

Your smile faded but still you shine

Got my path again into your soul

It's a place that I call home

I can feel your fingertips, they're burnin' my skin again

But I still take your hand

And we'll run away from this mess

I'll bury my heart in the hole in your chest

Your dad would talk with you about your classes and what you learned. You’d show him your notes and he loved seeing the art you made even if it sucked. He found the techniques for panic attacks very useful and decided to have you teach them to him so he could teach his class.

Just don't forget about me

When you feel like you're drowning

I know it's hard to try

If it gets rough, I'm by your side

You spent more time with your dad and he took more time to focus on you and your mental health. He put time aside to make sure to spend with you. You guys would cuddle on the couch and you’d help him grade papers. Sometimes you’d need his help to understand what someone wrote. Apparently you read the students bad handwriting better than your dad. You decided to write feedback on some of the papers like ‘practice your handwriting on separate paper. Heroes need legible handwriting’ or you’d make small corrections and show them how to fix it for next time. Overall, grading papers with your dad was fun.

When everything

Is falling apart,

put your head on my shoulder

Don't cry, just another bad night

You'll make it out alive

When everything

is taking its toll, I'll pull you a little closer

If you slip, I'm falling too

And I'll never let you go again

You told your dad that you still have bad thoughts but now, every time you did, you’d follow your safety plan and talk to him or Hizashi. You’d find someone who you trust and talk to them. Your dad would let you snuggle up to him with your head on his shoulder as you told him everything you needed to.

You don't have to cry alone

And I'll hold this weight above you

If you slip, I'm falling too

And I'll never let you go

Some of the best things you learned were to just live day by day. You don’t have to worry about tomorrow and you don’t have to be hopeful about tomorrow either, it’s enough to just be curious about what’s next. You decided that you wanted to see your friends become heroes and that you had to see if Bakugou became the next number 1. That was enough for both you and your dad. And he promised that he would always be here for you and he’d never let you go.

[chosok-amo]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀JJK SFW MASTERLIST .ᐟ

beware. angst & fluff under his masterlist.

BLOCK!! ꒰ spamming like without re-blogging, don't want my account to get shadow-banned ꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ᘊ headcanons ᘍ

their reaction when they see you kiss another man : part one, part two.

their reaction when you lose one arm after the Shibuya accident.

their reaction when they see you in their clothes.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᘊ one-shots / fics ᘍ

[★] SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO.

now I know : when satoru's prank to pretend to be dead goes wrong.

they take care of you after sex : your boyfriends taking care of you after sex.

being pregnant sucks : your mood swings don't get any better even tho you're almost 8 months pregnant.

spa day? not really : you spend time together after long weeks of work

always the bridesmaids never the bride : the downfall of your relationship after suguru's moral compass went south.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀part 02 | maybe I'm the bride

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀alt. ending | by the sea

hi baby : your baby calling you 'baby'

twins boyfriends : the fun thing about having two boyfriends is dressing them up like twins

macarons : it's impossible to keep sweets around the house if satoru gojo is your husband.

stars around scars : you were just trying to draw some stars on your boyfriend, not knowing simple things could be so hard when you have two needy boyfriends.

[★] SUGURU GETO.

let's fall in love for the night. fluff

fool's gold. fluff

[★] SATORU GOJO.

cupid : satoru gojo is your best friend since you both were kids, and you have feelings for him for as long as you can remember.

oh, i'm destroyed : he's your best friend, he's getting married soon with kids on the way even though your heart is craving for each other, you sarcastically, jokingly tell him, “pleased? oh, I'm destroyed,” after hearing the news, he laughed, almost crying as he looked at you.

“oh, my lover is drunk” : he comes to your apartment every three am drunk, confesses his feelings for you only to pretend like he doesn't remember anything in the morning, until you go on a date with someone.

stupid pillow fight: you and your boyfriend are having a pillow fight. he gets too competitive, making you fall from the bed and hurt your ankle.

my boy such a pretty crier : my boyfriend has the prettiest eyes,” . . . you love your boyfriend— gojo satoru's eyes, you always have, until you see him crying for the first time, and you can't help but need to see those eyes, glisten with tears, every chance you get.

[★] NANAMI KENTO.

little lamb : he came back from work and found you whimper and cry in your sleep.

[★] RYOMEN SUKUNA.

lovin' on me : when he leaves you alone in the rain after a heated argument

moon-pie : sukuna always bakes blueberry pie, moon pie you call it, your favorite.

shape shifted : sukuna is having a crush on his twin brother's tutor.

changing tides : sukuna can merely tolerate your presence, over the time you and him became friends until it became something else.

the exit.

[★] MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

heart-shaped cloud : you're having a crush on your spike-haired friend

with this treasure I summon : megumi and you are in situationship but he is jealous because you spend time talking with yuta rather than him.

hollow-purple : your brother, satoru gojo nearly hollow purple megumi when he found you on his bed.

a safe harbor : after the goodwill event, satoru gojo takes his students to a festival near shibuya. overwhelmed by social anxiety amidst the bustling crowd, lucky for you megumi was there to help.

cling-clink : before meeting you, megumi often sees you around school, always clinging into yuuta's arm, even satoru gojo's arm like when a child learns how to cross the street and have to hold into their parents, until he meets you.

[★] TOJI FUSHIGURO.

bad-day: you are having a bad day so here comes your boyfriend to makes you feel better.

thunderstorm : you were supposed to be enemies.

[★] YUUTA OKKOTSU.

super freaky girl: yuta okkotsu loves having you as his girlfriend, but there is nothing that would prepare yuta from this side of you— making everything sensual; you just love having your shy boyfriend flustered and blushing, just overall giving him a hard time. . . and a boner.

[★] INUMAKI TOGE.

vent box : your boyfriend has always been a vent box to his friends, with his nature of being unable to speak you ask him to write you a letter to vent.

[★] OTHERS.

welcome home. yuta & yuji

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ᘊ drabbles ᘍ

nightmares. & nanami kento.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ᘊ smau ᘍ

satoru as your boyfriend : part one. part two.

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⠀⠀⠀likes, comments, and reblogs are well-appreciated ꩜ .ᐟ

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[shygirl4991]

True Color

Summary: SMG3 was told by eggman to kill SMG4 his ex rival, deep down he knew he couldn't bring himself to harm someone he grew close to so he comes up with a plan to trick eggman. Except SMG4 wasn’t a part of the plan, the man on the floor crying not only over his dead meme but at the fact his friend and crush was about to kill him. Will SMG3 be able to live through his fight with Eggman and finally admit his true feelings, he better cause there's no way a great villain like him will lose!

Tags: Fluff and Angst, Attempted murder, love confessions, first kiss, enemies to friends to lovers

SMG3 chuckles to himself dealing with Depresso was nothing, who knew this man was so weak to rats. As he walks outside his old friend Eggman follows, he is sure to be bowing down to the proof that Three hasn't lost his touch when it comes to evil. Eggman smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder “Congrats, SMG3! There’s only one final test before you can be called a true villain again.” Three smirks, this will be easy who said you couldn't be evil and still have your hero friends by your side.

“You must kill your arch nemesis!” He shows his phone revealing footage of his Eggdog cam. How did eggman know about the camera in Four’s room? How long has he been watching the man, he made a mistake putting that camera in his room. He only did it to make sure that nothing would happen to four, now look at what he did. He felt a chill go down his back as it now hit him, Eggman wants him to kill his ex rival. The meme guardian in charge of living memes, his friend. He looks down in shock as Eggman pats his back laughing “Can't wait to see it friend!” 

Three was at his new home, sitting on his bomb chair staring at the gun in his hand. He can feel himself shaking at the thought of aiming it at SMG4, so many years of trying to kill the man and he did it all without any emotion besides anger. Things have changed so much, he remembers when he was about to die when he dropped the character he played as for so many years to finally tell SMG4 that they were friends. The day they did the heist to get his notebook back, how relaxed the two were drinking coffee when he was hit with a drawing idea and doodled the two together with coffee. Then the memory of the day everything changed for him, when him and Four held hands learning about their power and about zero. 

He points the gun at the picture of SMG4 shaking and fires, the moment he pulls the trigger he focuses on his old anger bringing his old character out.  “Finally I have a reason to kill that bozo!” He focuses on the pain he felt on Christmas when SMG4 brought up old memories. He screams as he shoots down the photo of SMG4 letting out all the anger on it, he can do this he can kill that idiot. Eggdog jumps surprised at what his father did during his private bath time, barking at his meme parent annoyed as he watches the man open a chest. “Ooooo i wonder how i should kill him! Dismemberment?” he then takes out gamer bath water out of the chest “Maybe waterboarding?” 

Seeing his father bringing out his old persona makes him start barking furiously at him, SMG3 freezes hearing his son's words before glaring at him “What do you mean? I don't care about SMG4, he sucks!” his mind yelled at him calling him a liar as he crossed his arms “I’ve had no character development with him.” He can't let it fall if he loses character then those feelings come back, he won't be able to impress his old friends. Eggdog had it with his father as he yelled back at him reminding him of all the nights he would gush about SMG4 to him, how he has become happier since the two became friends. It was becoming overwhelming for him as he covered his ears “La la la i can't hear you!

As he leaves his home he stares at the castle, he feels his hand shaking again “Damn it..Eggdog is right what am i doing, why am i trying to impress people from my past?” He remembers how insane SMG4 went trying to make the perfect video to please all his viewers. Three clenches his fist “Right…RIGHT! I can't impress everyone. The person I should be impressing is myself, and I find myself impressive enough!”

He needed a plan, so he walked up to the castle with gun in hand as Eggman walked up next to him “Are you ready?”  Three smirks “Oh yeah, this is gonna be easy!” He was always a fast thinker he knew the moment he stepped into that castle Eggman was done for.  SMG4 was humming happily as he finally learned how to hand craft memes thanks to the help of Three. SMG3 opens the door to the kitchen looking around to figure out a way out of this mess, SMG4 turns excitedly “Oh hey three!” he twitches at the nickname. He wasn't sure when the man shortened his name but everytime he hears it his heart flutters.

“I was just inventing a new meme. I call him, tomato soop and his catchphrase is gonna be BLERHG.” SMG3 stares at the meme as Four was showing it off, the idiot has so much trust in him he wouldn’t see his death coming. His stomach twisted at the thought, then he blinked at the meme. A tomato that when squish color could be mistaken for blood, SMG4 finishes explaining the meme smirking at him hoping his new meme was impressing his crush “Pretty memey right?” 

Three walks forward, his eyes dark as he goes over his plan in his head, on one hand a voice was telling him to do it. SMG4 hasn't done anything for him so why let him live? But that wasn't him that was the old him that he made to protect himself in a world that saw him as evil. SMG4 eyes drop down noticing the gun “Oh a glock!” he starts to get nervous “Whatcha…gonna do with that…” once SMG3 got close enough he decided what he had to do “Oh…something i should have done long ago.” He points the gun at SMG4 causing panic in the man, this couldn't be happening this isn't the SMG3 he knows why would he point a gun at him “THREE WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” 

Three’s eyes flicker to the newly made meme, he had to do it to protect him, his gaze softened as he looked back at Four “I’m sorry… I have to do this.” SMG4 shakes unsure what was going on then the gun moved slightly to his left and fired, Four blinks and slowly turns to see Three had shot his newly made meme getting tomato juice all over the window. Eggman lets out an evil smile seeing the red splatter on the window, he walks into the castle laughing “Ho hoo good job. I guess I underestimated your evil intentions 3.  I’m glad my old evil buddy is still-” he freezes seeing a tomato with a gunshot wound “Hey what the fuck?” 

SMG3 smirks as he charges at Eggman jumping up and kicking him in the face, while he may not be as fast and flexible as his partner he still had his talents in his strength. “Sike Mother fucker!” SMG4 runs to his meme with his eyes starting to water “My tomato soup meme!” SMG3 places his hands on his hips, annoyed at his other half “DUDE! Dont ruin my epic twist! I was actually considering killing you! Like usual…” he added the last bit to make sure he wasn't showing his true emotions. 

Hearing that line made Four forget about his meme as he looked at SMG3 heartbroken “You were actually going to kill me?!” that can be true could it? He felt his tears escape knowing that he would have been dead if SMG3 didn't change his mind at the last minute, what did it mean was everything they went through all for nothing? He starts crying loudly causing SMG3 to smack him, Four was startled from the hit looking at the man who was glaring at the spot Eggman was at.

Eggman gets up “I KNEW YOU DIDN'T HAVE IT IN YOU!”

SMG3 rolls his eyes “Nah i think murder isn't very evil villainy, you people should know all villains have a code. Plus PAIN AND SUFFERING IS MORE MY STYLE!” Eggman looks down at Three who had a huge shit eating grin “Pathetic,” he now knows that SMG3 was a lost cause. But he still had some hope that something would knock common sense back to Three “All villains murder!” he takes out a rocket launcher “Allow me to demonstrate!” He points the rocket to SMG3. The man only smiles at Eggman; he spent his whole life with weapons pointed at him and eldritch gods trying to kill him, an egg-shaped villain doesn't scare him.

That was until the weapon moved targets, his eyes going wide as he watched Eggman point the rocket at SMG4. He growls at Eggman as he dashes at the man moving the rocket to not hit Four, the rocket flies out hitting the roof of the castle, an old man in a bathtub falls down confusing the pair for a moment. Seeing Eggman distracted he turns and punches the man, picking up the man on the floor he smirks ready to give the man a beating for even thinking about killing SMG4. 

“I DON'T NEED TO PROVE SHIT!” he was done with the world making him a villain, he won't let anyone change him again. Eggman, finally understanding his old friend is gone, decides to teach Three a lesson, calling his ride down squishing Three he launches them up in the air “Enjoy your last breath!”

The higher they went the more he was struggling to breath, his vision was getting blurring as he took deep breaths. An idea hits him as he turns trying to keep his breathing steady from the height “Why don't you go and steal the moon or something.” He starts to take apart the vehicle. SMG4 walks outside with his injured meme looking up at the sky confused, scared and nervous about what was going on. SMG3 looks down then back at what he was doing as he removes the last part causing the vehicle to malfunction. SMG3 takes one last deep breath, he was a meme guardian he will trust his power that falling from this height won't kill him. He winks at eggman before letting go and falling off, SMG4 drops his meme running around in a panic trying to guess where the man was going to land.

He dives, catching SMG3 quickly and lifts up the man checking if he is okay. SMG3 coughs trying to bring oxygen to his lungs “SMG4?” he turns and looks at the man's face “Yeah it's me, i don't know what the hell is going on but..i'm so glad you're okay..you are okay right?” Three coughs feeling his lungs burn, the world still looked blurry for him as Four did his best to make sure the man was comfy by laying  him on his lap.

SMG4 starts to cry again feeling so many conflicting emotions he felt he was going to just blow from all of it, he holds Three’s hand shaking slightly “Even after everything…were you really going to kill me…do you still hate me?” Hearing the pain and sadness in Fours voice broke SMG3's character, maybe for once he can let himself show to stop his idiot from crying. Weakly he reaches for SMG4 face “No you idiot, sure it was tempting since on christmas you made a shitty comment without thinking but i could never kill you…you mean too much to me.” Four’s eyes go wide as he wipes his tears, Three coughs annoyed by the pain he feels “HEY STAY WITH ME uh er maybe i have a first aid kit for this wait for me!”  He gently put Three on the floor and was going to run inside only to be stopped. 

He turned to see Three grabbing his hand “Hey..Four..thank you for being my friend.” SMG4 heart flutters finally hearing Three call him by his nickname “Hey now you're not going anywhere,” he wiggles free to sprint inside getting the first aid kit.  After taking care of Three they both sit together outside looking at the sky, Three was starting to feel better as he leaned on Four “I know today must have been a shit show for you, so in short I had old friends try to change me but you know what SMG4?” the man hums as he waters his meme helping it feel better.

Suddenly Three turned his face getting close, Four blushed unsure what was happening “I realized i don't need to prove to anyone how evil i am. I don't need to prove anything because I'm happy just the way I am.” SMG4 smiles softly at him leaning into his touch “heh well i'm happy your you to three, you had me scared you know i really thought i did something wrong or…you lied about being friends again.”

SMG3 frowns at the memory, he did a lot of bad in the past to think he was here at this moment with someone he used to want dead. Now the thought of anything happening to Four made him sick, it made him angry. It then clicked to him all those confusing feelings he had these past months, he was falling for his rival after everything they went through he grew to love the man in front of him. He would kill for this man, he would die for him. Four was giving a confused look to Three wondering why he was still caressing his face only for his eyes to go wide as Three leaned forward kissing him.

SMG4 felt as though his body was being electrocuted from the sparks he was feeling from the kiss, dropping the watering can he turns his body and wraps his arms around Three’s neck kissing him back. Eggman’s plan was to bring SMG3 back to the dark side but all he did was show Three just how amazing the light was, he won't ever let this go no one will ever lay a hand on his SMG4 as long as he lives. 

It was the next day and SMG3 smirks as he traumatizes Steve by telling him his sandwich was made of chicken, he does his evil laugh not noticing his boyfriend was rolling his eyes “I see some things never change huh?” Four pats Three’s back only to get a smirk from the other man “Hey now scrub you say this but you wouldn't have me any other way!”

Four chuckles and nods “I wouldn't want you any other way three, now uh could i get my coffee i have been waiting here for an hour.”

“Nope, just cause you're dating me doesn't mean you can skip the line now go sit and wait or i'm going to make you wait even more!”  Four signs before letting out a smirk he quickly kisses Three’s cheek making the man's face go red “WHAT THE!? THATS IT NOW YOUR NOT GETTING SHIT YOU…YOU…baka.” he lets out a soft smile before going back to work red in the face.

[fangirltothefullest]

"I read some of the reblogs/tags from the proshipping post and one has got me thinking especially about the fictional minors, and certain restrictions like US not allow depictions of it. I get why this is a heated topic; but the moral responsibility should not be placed on the creators and the other people who enjoy in a fictional setting. I know that there will be really sick people who will use media as an excuse to do to certain heinous actions (like Fight Club) but i do think that is on those members of thr audience and not on the creator and those who are sensible enough not to that. There are so many things i wish i can articulate this better but i do hope that my words are enough. Let me know if you are alright discussing this with them or if you want me to stop."

i just get so tired because like.... i personally don't like that there are people who feel the need to write certain things or draw certain things and sometimes I wonder if the people who do write it need to go to therapy because maybe there's something that they could get help with.

But it sucks because like.... the moment you start policing what people write about it becomes an easy slope of "well EVERYTHING should be puritanical and censored to spare this group and that group" and suddenly it's an excuse to censor everything people consider even mildly "wrong". It's how "degenerates" are made out of homosexual and transgender people, how books are banned for talking about science, how even the most mundane of things we take for granted can so easily be labelled as "taboo" and banned.

There's so much bad that comes from censoring. If we just learned to be like you know what? There are more important things to think about than what random people online are writing about with fictional characters.

There's a reason this topic is heated and it makes sense but the whole point of the post was just to get people to think about the idea that instead of spending all day going "hey this person ships incest block them! Hate them! Send them hateful messages! Tell everyone you know to shun the beast!" it would save you so much energy and time to just.... walk away from this fictional thing you don't have to partake in. literally that's all.

But as usual it always devolves into whether people should get to draw fictional kids fucking or whatever because for some reason it's all or nothing for people.

I think the question for that post shouldn't be whether it's ok but whether we should not be dicks to the people who are like "dude if you wanna write about something I'm uncomfortable with, I'm just gonna hit da bricks"

[lxdymoon0357]

Can I request for a general dating headcannons with Father, I Don't Want This Marriage???? thank chu!

Father, I don't want this marriage! X Reader HCs

Jubelian Floyen

♢Dating Jubelian is a very cute experience, I’d say, she’s so caring and sweet, she also always shows affection and she’s pretty! So many plus signs.

♢You do have to go through a suspection made by her father, but it’s fine, cause once he accepts you, you’re his child too, so yayyy! One more baby for him to spoil.

♢Random kisses on your cheeks and lips, maybe on knuckles when you’re holding hands around the manor or when you’re walking around the garden.

♢She learnt to make flower crowns when she was young, so she makes tons of flowers crowns for you and even taught you how to make them and so many dates when you both sit in the garden and make flower crowns with each other.

♢She has you sneak in her room so many times, even after Regis had three guards outside on her balcony, you still somehow sneaked her out and they found you both cuddling in one of the extra rooms they have.

♢Most dates you both have include you and her learning self-defense from Regis, because he doesn’t want your relationship to end up like his and Amelia’s, so he trains you both along with Max and it always ends up with you both giving each-other pecks and giggling like little kids.

♢Regis was really doubtful of you at first, that he tried to set up a scene where Jubelian was kidnapped and you ended up breaking down in front of him, while holding a knife covered in blood of the guards who kidnapped her, while Jubelian who knows about her dad’s scheme is mad because how dare he make the love of her life cry! >:((((((

♢If you’re larger than her, she would love it if you carried her on your back or princess style, but if you’re smaller and weaker than her, she would love to carry you all over!

♢You’re also have a lot of respect from not only nobles, but also many servants and many other people because you’re dating a Floyen, so many gifts so they can suck up to you!

♢You both have many dates where you both have a picnic with some trusted guards, maids, butlers and her father right near a lake or a waterbody, and after you all are done eating you all throw stones in the waterbody!

♢If you say you like something to eat, she will learn how to make it herself to surprise you and she always makes them with high-quality ingredients!

♢She also remembers many things you even gave a hint of liking; she has a scrap-book with you, in which she writes, and draws things you both did that day or something you want to do in the future or after you both are married

♢She loves card games, so it’s a routine where you both play card-games before bed, until you both fall asleep in each-other’s warmth because the room is too cold…

♢You and Jubelian always wear matching clothes everywhere, parties, banquets, balls, going out, sleeping, on dates, dancing, walking around, etc….So all the maids know what to do, your accessories also match!

♢Now dating Jubel is like having your personal fashion designer, whom one second will make you many clothing which are gonna make a new trend in the empire and in the next will be making out with you on her bed.

Maxmillion Ashet

♚ You are spoiled as fuck! Maxmillion is a crown prince and being a crown prince means many gifts so nobles can suck up to you, so when he finds a gift he doesn't like, but he know you'll enjoy, he removes everything that says that it for him and gives it to you, saying he had a noble got it for you.

♚ Max is also very physical with you, hugging, kissing and touching you, though they're mostly subtle in public and in-front of people, in private, he won't stop at only kissing or hugging.

♚ He would have you train with him, because he doesn't want you to be hurt by assassins and people who want to hurt as to get revenge on him, Regis is always happy to train you for sword-fighting, hand-to-hand combat and arrow-shooting.

♚ He learnt flower language for you and often coveys his feelings using flowers!!! He has brought many flowers and often you were confused, because you don't know why he chooses a certain scheme of colour and types of flowers, until one of your maids suggested him using flower language and upon inspection, it was indeed true!!!

♚ He probably sits you on his lap while he does something he is annoyed about like polishing his swords or doing some paper-work, cause it's comforting for him.

♚ He would take you horse-back riding every weekend for a date, if he's too busy, he'll improvise and get you your favourite foods as lunch while he does his work.

♚ He would buy you earrings, or any jewellery you like but he buys your earrings the most, because he for some reason, he loves earrings and they're always made with beautiful and special crystals.

♚ He built a statue in your honour, it is a statue of you, in a beautiful dress with a bunny in your hand, it's kept in the grand hall of the palace, it is decorated with multiple jewels and maybe it is a secret door to a private chamber.

♚ He gives you piggyback rides and loves to carry you if your feet are hurting or if you're feeling a little lazy, tsundere about it though....But it's okay, cause we love tsunderes in this households!

♚ He loves to feed into your hobbies, he doesn't care what it is; painting, sword-fighting, archery, crocheting, reading, swimming, gymnastics, even if it's deemed as unfeminine by society, who looks down upon women who do this, he's a feminist and he ain't gonna let you take shit from anybody!!!

♚ Also, though he is kind of a tsundere, he won't be afraid to show his love to you, in front of people or fanboy in fact, he don't care, he has his hands wrapped around yours or he's having his hand on your waist.

Regis Floyen

☽ The head of the duchy, he's such a sweetheart and so is his daughter, you three make the perfect family! You're so pretty, Regis with his amazing skills and Jubel with her kind nature!!!

☽ He loves to dance with you, late at night, if you aren't as tired that is, he is very careful about your health and often gives you his main priorities.

☽ Kind of needs your reassurance that he is doing the correct thing, if there is something you don't like, please say cause when you do things passive and aggressively, it makes him overthink things....

☽ He would teach you how to sword fight, even in heavy dresses and large heels because honestly in my opinion, he would find it to be super hot to see his wife fight someone in dresses, heels with make-up fully done, if he has a wife that is. If you're another, he would love to see you fight him, because hot husband and spouse vibes....

☽ Dating Regis is also dating Jubelian, because you have breakfast and lunch with her everyday, Regis joins you both for dinner, you dress up with Jubel, make flower-crowns, go on parent-daughter dates, put on make-up, go out to eat something or go shopping with her, you spend more time with Jubel then with Regis....

☽ I think Regis also has quite a talent in painting, if he does, he would love to paint you and Jubel dancing together or doing something together as parent and daughter, he would also love to do family portraits!!!

☽ Just like Jubel and her S/O, he is going to be wearing matching clothing with you, no matter what you do, when you're going to bed, you're doing work, you're at a banquet, meetings or what not, matching accessories and also his sword is matching a dagger he gave you!

☽ Also, he would love to see you rock anything, wearing dresses as a man or wearing a suit as lady! He'll find them hot anyway and he wants you to feel comfortable in your own skin and anyone who makes you feel otherwise is quite frankly a little, insecure bitch ass! So you go boo! Do what you want, wear what you want, he's there to handle all the scandals and rumors and he and Jubelian are scaring anyone who is staring at you weirdly!!!!

☽ He would love to kiss you randomly throughout the day and no-matter where or what you're doing, they is going to be a *smooch!* places on your cheeks, lips, neck, ears, hand, hair, forehead, nose, on top of head or wherever he wants to kiss

☽ He would take on dates whenever he can and it could be the most random time as long as you're completely 800% okay to do it, it can vary from 3:56 am at night to broad daylight of 2:45 pm in the afternoon....It don't matter!

☽ HE CANNOT STAND YOU BEING UNCOMFORTABLE!!!!!! I've said it once and I'll say it again, he cannot stand you being uncomfortable, whether it be your dress, accessories, person, view, position or anything it is, he will do anything in his power to make sure you're safe and sound and comfortable!!!!

☽ My man loves to carry you around in his arms like a koala and maybe he takes you like that to the training grounds and there he sits you down somewhere comfortable while you watch him train shirtless :P.....

☽ C O F F E E A D D I C T S. You both are most likely coffee addicts and he not only has then types of coffee, oh no! He has over hundreds type of coffee stored in one of his warehouses....

☽ He would love for you to model your outfits for him, he love to see how hot, cute, beautiful/handsome/alluring you look in them, he obviously has matching outfit with you, but your outfits fit your aesthetic or style and his outfits match his style and so you have similar outfit, but of different styles!!!

☽ He loves to bath with you, after he has finished training with Maxmillion an the is all tired and sweaty and needy for all of your attention on him and him only!

[its-a-me-mango]

I saw your post about art fight (and by the way congrats and I'm impressed by the amount of pieces you've done) and you mentioned drawing furries. I kind of never did but I want to learn, do you have any tips on drawing furries?

Hi yeah my advice is to have an older brother tell you what furries are at the age of 8 and then get completely obsessed with drawing anthropomorphic characters until the age of 18, so if you missed out on that I'm sorry. /j

Anyway, my actual advice is to get used to drawing animals in general. If you already know how to draw humans then you've already done most of the work when it comes to furries, if not thats ok you can learn as you go! I always recommend looking at other peoples work that you look up to and seeing how they do it. Learning to look and pick out shapes and features is always my best advice, it's something you learn to do as you grow but being able to pick out characteristics, shapes and all sorts of what you're looking at will massively help with your work, never be afraid to look up reference!

Simply taking the time to understand how to draw some animals can help set you up for drawing furries, you don't have to learn every single animal right off the bat, just the ones you're interested in to start off with. Once you know how to draw one or two, all the other species should become much easier to learn, or if you just wanna stick with the one species that's fine too, whatever you're happiest doing!

For example, say you wanna draw dog furries, thats fair dogs are cool! I like border collies so I'm focusing on them, look at these guys they're so fluffyyyy

Right away you can pick out some key features, the pointy ears, the medium length snout, the long fur (especially around the neck), the markings, the fluffy tail, these are all key things that make up our awesome collie dog, taking the time to practice these traits first will help you later on for drawing furries, you can practice as you go if you want but if you're starting with nothing, go basic!

Once you're comfortable with drawing animals, putting those traits onto a human shouldn't be as daunting, head goes where the head is, tail goes at the end of the spine, and fur goes all over! Obviously there are so many ways to draw furries but I'm trying to be basic to start off with! Practising with putting human emotions/traits onto animals will help a lot to refine what you're doing, your first attempts won't be pretty so don't worry about trying to make them so, they're for practice after all!

Using this as my excuse to draw my border collie SMG4 inspired OC, come look at Jay he sucks so bad, you'll never guess who he's inspired by. Again learning to mix human emotions and put them onto cartoon animal heads is hard to learn but I promise it's possible and great fun once you know how!

There's no one set of rules for furries, it's whatever you feel works best! Add and take away whatever you want, maybe you want them blue and green with horns and wings, that's totally fine! Get as creative as you want and don't be afraid to go wild, furries aren't real after all, you can do anything you want!

Furries are so expressive and unique, it's one of the many reasons I love drawing them! You can get so much diversity and variation with their design and characters, they can be as realistic or as cartoony as you want! It's always important to have fun with what you're drawing and to be okay with making mistakes, you're not going to get it first try so might as well have fun getting to a point you're happy with!

Hope my insane ramblings helped somewhat, I never know if these actually help because my advice is always just "look at reference and say "fuck it we ballin" untill it looks right", I can't teach that to anyone I have to sound like I know what I'm doing lmao

[keigologies]

sick heart, sick body, s. spiegel

syn. you both got some healing to do.

gen. romance, sick fic.

warnings. canon typical spike banter.

word count. 2.1k.

note. this was posted on ao3 forever ago and i said it was cross-posted here, but i ... clearly never actually did that... until now... oops (?)

spike has known you for most of his bounty hunting career. you came on the team a year after he himself joined jet, proving yourself to be not some wayward hitchhiker they'd have to take care of on their own dime, but a genuine asset: budgeting skills like no other (which the bebop crew really needed help with, though they would object to if questioned), ways of drawing out bounty heads into false senses of security (without causing a fire fight, something spike could really learn from, according to jet), disciplined in all the ways that matter. you're a quick learner; given the time and patience, you'd been able to pick up on his fighting style and you'd learned enough about mechanical engineering to help him and jet in repairing things on the bebop and the other spaceships on board.

all that to say: you're strong and spike has never known you to be anything else. you're smart, quickwitted, a powerhouse bounty hunter with all the skills that matter. you may be a little quiet, a little meek at points, but you're strong, almost untouchable.

so it surprises him when you come down especially hard with a severe case of the flu. it sounds so... primitive, he thinks, just some stupid earth sickness that honestly can't compete with some of the (quite frankly) awesomely-titled sicknesses that have come to be since the colonization of other planets; really, he justifies to himself, venus sickness sucks, but it is a cool name.

he cringes when he hears you cough for what might seriously be the hundreth time tonight and then mentally punches himself for taking the piss out of what you're going through right now. jet had said you'd contracted it while you guys were hanging around in tijuana and spike had been off tracking bounties; it was just coughing and congestion at first, but apparently, it eventually morphed into something way more severe. you'd quarantined yourself immediately to keep them safe, which spike has respected since he got back earlier in the day, but he shares a bedroom wall with you and damn him if you think he's going to allow you to keep suffering like this without him interfering.

your next coughing fit sends him up and out of the comforting warmth of his bed. it's not like he's angry with you or anything - sure, the coughing is getting on his nerves, but he knows you can't help it and he's not that much of a heartless asshole to be mad at you for keeping him from sleeping specifically because you're ill. really, he finds himself wanting (needing, maybe) to check on you, to make sure you have everything you need so you can rest easy and recover faster.

he realized a long time ago that he'd become jaded about the world. with everything that happened in the before the bebop era, it was clear why he'd become so disillusioned and nonchalant about things. with his past, things just didn't matter as much; he still had life to live, but he'd decided to be a little more reckless about things. he didn't want to waste time worrying about things that didn't concern him, now or ever: whatever happens, happens.

your being sick isn't really any of his business because outside of him having to listen to you cough all night for as long as you're ill, it doesn't concern him in the slightest. he means, it shouldn't concern him because it really shouldn't, but there's a part of him that's... open to the idea of being concerned for you and your wellbeing, which is strange to him because he shut himself off from ideas like that decades ago, it seems like. it's not that he's incapable of it, of caring for another person, but rather that he feels it's more of a betrayal. he'd given his heart to another and he'd never truly gotten it back.

though, in the five long strides it takes him to cross from his door to your own, he thinks that maybe he had gotten it back, years ago even, and he was too afraid to admit it to himself. so many things he'd held himself back from for years, all in the name of a woman who had disappeared into the ether without so much as a trace. she was gone; dead or alive, julia was gone and she had been for a long time. it's been time for him to douse that torch for a while now.

and when he comes to this conclusion in those five strides, he thinks that you getting sick might be a blessing in disguise, at least for him, because he's realizing now that he's been taken with you for quite some time. he's not sure when it first started, this infatuation with you, but it certainly isn't recent. he supposes it doesn't matter, however, because he's realizing it now, on his way to rescue you from an earth virus that definitely had a way lamer name than other sicknesses, which is a comment he's sure you'll laugh at and agree with him about if he brings it up.

once he finally raps his knuckles on the sliding metal door leading to your bedroom, he hears the beginning syllable of "come" before it's interrupted by a ragged cough. your voice, rough and almost whispered, struggles to say "come in," but you finally manage it and he opens the door just enough to slide in, ducking under the door frame.

"you feeling alright?" he asks, closing the door behind him. "you've been hacking up a lung all night."

you do your best to laugh, but it's a sad attempt, barely there and hoarse. a piece of him wilts at the sound, sad to hear you in such a bad condition. "better than i was yesterday."

"sure doesn't sound like it," he answers, turning towards you. he withers a little more.

you look so small in your bed, under what he can only guess to be every single available blanket on the bebop. you have dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks sunken and your skin pallid in accordance. you look like you have one foot in the grave.

"jesus," spike says, crossing the small room to your bedside and sitting on the edge. "you look awful. have you been eating?"

somehow, he's able to recognize your shrug under fifteen different blankets. "we're almost out of food. didn't wanna bother jet about it or throw the budget out of sorts."

"are you being serious right now? fuck the budget. you have to eat when you're sick like this." he genuinely frowns and presses the back of his hand to your forehead and then cheeks. "and you're burning up. did you just decide to forgo medicine in the name of the budget too?"

you shrug again.

"you're the worst." 

but you can tell he's joking because if he really thought that, he wouldn't be here at all. he stands and when he turns to look at you, you've got a questioning expression on your face.

"oh, don't look at me like that. i'm not just going to come in here, berate you for being stupid about being sick, and then leave. i'm going to go see if i can track down some medicine."

"it's not gonna be any of that weird shit you keep in the first aid kit, is it?" you ask, a grimace clear on your face.

"okay, first off, that weird shit is home remedies and they work just fine. second, no, i'm not stupid. that stuff isn't going to cure what you have, so don't worry your pretty little head, alright? the newt stays in the kit another day."

the last comment makes you laugh and this time, it's not as hoarse as it was a few minutes ago, which makes him smile to himself. with you being in the state you are, it's nice to hear a few seconds of your cool, clear laugh. something about it anchors him to this moment in time, reminds him that he's not as cold and as standoffish as he's always presented himself to be in this new life of his; no, he's capable of caring for people like this, of loving someone like this. he's got something good here with you and he's always had it, he's just never let himself think that it was his to actually indulge in.

"i'll see what i can find. in the meantime, start deconstructing that 'money is more important than my pressing health needs' mindset you apparently have going on, okay? i mean, really, you were worried about the budget? you know jet would agree with me here, as much as he complains about not having money. plus, shit that you can't account for happens."

"okay, okay, i get it." you accompany your words with an eye roll, but the smile is clear on your lips, which are cracked from dehydration. "can we save the lecture for when you get back? or just save it for jet altogether since i know you'll end up snitching to him about this eventually anyway?"

spike scowls, but it's obviously playful. "don't go catching an attitude with me. i'm generously playing nurse for you right now when i could very well just let you suffer here alone."

"oh, this is you playing nurse? then you really oughta work on your bedside manner, spiegel. it's atrocious."

he shakes his head and begins backing away from you, arms crossed over his chest. "keep acting like that and maybe i'll feed you that newt after all."

"yeah, yeah, yeah. i think jet's been hiding chamomile tea somewhere in the living room. make some for me, please?"

"you're real lucky i'm in the mood to be compassionate," he jokes, finally turning to open the door. "you want honey with it?"

"if we have any."

"you got it. don't fall asleep before i get back or i'm ratting you out to jet about this tea too."

he hears your hum of affirmation as he steps into the hallway and when he closes the door behind him, he allows himself to assess the whole interaction. if this had occurred at any point before now, he would have felt entirely disgusted with himself, but at present, he realizes he doesn't really mind. you've taken care of him an innumerable amount of times since joining him and jet, serving as the defacto nurse on the bebop, and this could easily be just him returning the favor, but it feels like so much more than that. 

because it is. if it was anyone else, if was any other time, he wouldn't be feeling this way: soft and warm on the inside like heat without his trusty cigarette. when he'd left the syndicate and faked his death, he'd sworn off love and adoration and affection. they had been his downfall once, they would not ruin him a second time. sure, he'd come to trust jet more than he'd trusted anyone before, but he kept even him at arm's length, afraid of what might happen if he let him come too close to orbit. 

and while it worked for the most part, spike has been learning (for what he assumes is quite a long time) that cutting those kinds of human connections of out of one's life isn't the way to go about healing, especially when the person one wants to love has proven time and time again that they're worthy of being trusted. there is no life without love because life without love and companionship is a sickness of the heart and he's let it fester for far too long.

so when he comes back to your room with a hot mug of chamomile tea with honey, a few pieces of hard tack he scrounged up, and some generic medicine, and he finds you asleep? he doesn't find himself all too annoyed with you like he threatened he'd be. no, instead, he feels a little bad when he has to wake you up to drink and eat and take the medicine he had to go digging through too many drawers for. and when you apologize for keeping him up with your coughing, he tells you you're the worst next door neighbor for it (a joke), but he's glad he can help you (not a joke).

and when you ask him if he'll stay for a while (just to make sure i'm not going to die in my sleep, you reason), he agrees and lays under your fifteen blankets with you until your breathing evens out and you're fast asleep, and even then, he stays just a little bit longer than he needs to, relishing in the feeling of sharing a bed with another person again.

he figures you've both got some healing to do, so you won't mind if he falls asleep with you. 

© keigologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.

[harrieatthemet]

Vulnerable

in which Harry’s sensitive and you’re completely undressed. 

He’d prefer if you stayed. 

It’s his ideal perception of comfort; the warmth oozing from the usually unoccupied side of his bed, a faded essence of vanilla perfume tied in with a bit of rose oil shampoo, the amenity of another body lethargically intertwined with his. 

Bouncing back and forth between one place to another, one city to the next; it’s inconsistent. And for a while, inconsistency worked. He had nestled himself comfortably into the odd routine of inconsistency. That’s what the bulk of his foundation in larger areas of life was built off of, and you were no exception. 

“Casual,” and he used the word exactly months ago, “let’s keep it casual.”

He knows what happens when he puts his hand to the flame; he gets burned. He’s learned that lesson the hard way once. And again after that, and once or twice more after that. Casual meant there wasn’t any real need for consistency. Keeping a relationship with you as casual as possible seemed like the best fit; one that made sense. 

At least, back then it did. All that coming and going, late night text messages, sporadic sleepovers after over indulging on wine and really shitty romantic comedies, it became consistent. 2 minute phone calls every now and then turned into one, sometimes two hours at least once a day. He’s caught himself checking his phone so that he doesn’t miss a text. He’s not used to consistent. This, however, is the type of consistency he’s becoming quite fond of. 

“5 more minutes,” he’s barely gotten his eyes open but his hands are awake, pulling you a little closer to him, “s’all we need, yeah? Just 5.. maybe 10.” 

There’s a content flutter purring in his chest when you hum in response, your body readjusting as he slinks an arm over your waist. He’s not ready to draw the blinds yet. There’s a straggling strip of outside light that's fighting it’s way through the gap in the drapes. It’s got to be well into the afternoon by now, but he doesn’t wanna check his phone to confirm. Instead he just pulls you closer; he’d rather stay here, like this, instead. 

“Mm,” the scruff from his chin brushes up against the back of your neck when you hum, “I wish I could.” 

“Don’t wish,” he giggles, “just do.”

He frowns when he feels you peel your body away, a small gust of cool air hitting his bare stomach when you tussle the sheets off and sit up. And he watches forlornly from his spot; admiring the way he his shirt hangs on you. 

“I can’t,” you’re whine is playful as you snatch your pants up from the floor, “I’ve got a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Mhm,” you assure, “a date thing.” 

It’s like a punch to the gut. The words coming out of your mouth put a bad taste in his. He doesn’t even wanna talk about it beyond this point. Ignorance really is bliss, but the curiosity will eat away at him if he doesn’t try to dig a little deeper. 

“Been seein’ him long?” He’s glad your back is to him because you can’t see the worry in his face. 

“Oh yeah,” that’s one more punch to the gut; he was hoping you’d say no, “we’re getting married on our date tonight.” 

“What??”

“Harry,” your laugh is muffled as you tug your shirt over your head, “m’fucking with you.” 

His shoulders drop a bit before he sits up in the bed. Watching you get dressed has always been one of those things he enjoyed; teasing you about outfit choices, making remarks about how he should take it all off again. 90% of the time he actually does end up taking everything off again. But this time just fucking sucks. You’re not getting dressed to go back to your place; you’re getting dressed to go back to someone else’s place. At least, that’s where his mind is taking him. 

You’ve still got him all over you; a little bit surely still lingering inside of you. This no-named competitor might get to touch you like he did just minutes ago. He wonders if he knows all your best spots, whisper in your ear, hold you while you sleep. Is he gonna kiss you the way you like, run fingers down your spine until you hum in content. Can this guy please you like he can? Does he know that the the little indent above your right knee is from when you fell off your bike as a kid? Does he know you sleep with two pillows and not one? You can’t sleep with one pillow; Harry always keeps an extra one freshly fluffed for you when you spend the night. Which, evidently enough, has become more frequent than not. 

“So deep in thought, eh?” You tease, “What’s going on up there?” 

He smirks briefly when you extend your pointer finger towards his head, swirling it around as though you’re mimicking his jumbled thoughts. He’s got no right to pry. After all, the groundwork of the terms regarding the dynamic between the two of you were his idea. God is he regretting that now. The idea of another man knowing you at all makes his stomach hurt, let alone knowing you the way he does. 

“Oh m’not,” he shrugs, idle hands twirling the loose sheet on his bed, “s’nothing.” 

“Going once.. going twice.. give me something, Har.” 

With your hands on your hips; expression playful, eyebrow cocked and breath baited in anticipation, he’s realizing that now might be better than ever to speak up. The answer to every unasked question is no, after all. 

His mind is racing with the worst of thoughts. He doesn’t want you to leave at all. Especially if you leave now to meet with the embrace of any other man except him. It’s not a possessive thing. Part of what makes him so feral and drawn to you is how open and genuine you are with the everyone you know. 

“This guy,” he trails, “I mean- like is this a date?”

“You writing a book or something?” You chuckle. 

“No.” 

He knows that was a joke. It wasn’t his intention to answer so seriously and he wishes so badly he could take that knee jerk reaction back. The look on your face falls and so does his heart; right into his fucking stomach. The energy of the once playful banter is ripped right out from beneath the both of you and now it’s just uncomfortable. 

“Yeah..” Your tone wanders as you look for your socks, “3rd one, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

There’s about an infinite amount of ways he could match that question. One of them being just high pitched screaming from frustration. Not even with any words, just endless agonizing groaning on a loop. Christ, the thought of it all just makes him want to melt into the mattress and become nothing. In theory he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and suffered in silence while he waited for the next time you texted or called. But he’s dug himself so deep playing 50 questions with you that there’s no point in retreating. He’s doubling down now; all or nothing. 

“Know him well?” He spits out. 

“Well enough.. still getting to know him a bit.” 

“S’good,” he feels it coming, the word vomit and he just can’t stop it from pooling on his tongue, “knows you like I know you?” 

If he was religious he’d start praying to God, any one of them, that you answer with a firm no. How could anyone know you like Harry knows you? He’s convinced that it isn’t possible. This morning, when he was wrapped up with you in a fresh set of linens sheets, he’d be so sure that nobody else had intimate access to you like he does; sexually and emotionally. Right now though, he’s starting to do something he seldom does; second guess himself. Maybe he was naive to be so sure before. 

“Not gonna put all my cards on the table just yet,” oh how badly he feels like dying when you talk all confused like that at him, “but yeah. I mean, I guess.” 

You think of how silly that question is. Why would he ask that? Everyone you know gets the same version of you; honest, open, and real easy going. You’re an open book and your relationships are all reflective of that. You are who you are, proudly and comfortably. So yes, of course he does. 

And all he’s thinking is how desperately he wants to rewind to 15 minutes ago when he wasn't the only naked person in the room. He just wants you to get back in bed; stay with him a little bit until he feels like the only one again. Turmoil and anger coincide with one another as it bubbles in his stomach, metastasizing before it becomes so unavoidable that he can feel it in the pit of his throat.

“Hm,” the sarcasm and bitterness in his tone is so goddamn thick, “lucky him than, yeah? Have fun, m’s real happy fo’ you.”

“Ok...” and he can tell by your voice that you’re offended, “I’d say thank you but that felt more like an insult.” 

Your jeans still aren’t buttoned and now that you’ve slid your shirt back on, he notices that your arms are folded over your chest as well. He doesn’t like the look on your face. It’s like you’re accusing him of something. And he really doesn’t like that the shirt you slept in, his shirt, is in a ball at the foot of his bed. 

“Can take it however y’want,” he answers flatly, “not sure how that’s my problem.” 

“Well what is your fucking problem?” 

You’ve never taken that tone with him before. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this cross before in general. He knows for sure you’ve never been this cross with him. It’s frustrating that you’re lagging in an attempt to catch up to the very obvious point he’s trying to make. The only easier route to take would be to flat out tell you how he’s completely hooked on you. He doesn’t want to do that though, not right now. 

What’s his problem? Are you genuinely that dense? Oblivious? His problem is you and how, against all odds, have become a crucial influence on whether or not he’s having a good day. His problem is if he doesn’t hear from you after a while, he gets grumpy. He hates waking up and rolling over to the left side of his bed made up and untouched. That’s where he wants you to be sleeping. All the time. 

His problem is you’re leaving to be with someone that isn't him.

“He knows you like I do?” he reiterates, “Fat fuckin chance.” 

“Harry you of all people know that I’m-”

“Shy?” he’s talking over you now because he’s completely lost all motor control between his mouth and his brain, “I know y’shy. Know that y’do tha’ little thing with y’lip, when you’re reading or real focused on something. Y’hum in the shower and, I never said this but it’s bloody fucking annoying sometimes ‘cos it’s off key. S’off key ‘n I almost like it.” 

You blinked; face flat and arms fallen to the side. All you could do was blink. And he wants to stop. God, he wants to stop talking so bad but this is your fault. You got him started so he has to keep going. 

“I know y’favorite pair of socks- those hideous fuzzy green ones with th’hole in ‘em.” 

He’s standing upright, now. How he got here, two feet planted on the ground with less distance between the two of you than two minutes ago; he’s not sure. There’s no specific expression on your face for him to pinpoint, so he considers edging himself a little closer towards where you’re standing. Until he’s right in front you, about to wave his white flag when he manages to break your blank stare and lock eyes

“Knows how y’like to be touched?” he’s brought his voice down a few octaves now, his index finger grazing over the undone button of your jeans, “knows.. how to get y’off? Like I do?” 

His eyelids are low, pupils blown as he peers down at you. A finger of his tucks away a stray piece of your hair before it embarks on a mindless journey; grazing your jaw before before he places it strategically under your chin. Then he lifts it. He’s giving you no choice but to look at him when he asks you. 

“Do y’wanna know him,” he sighs, “th’same way y’know me?”

[hathay]

second year halloween hc’s pt2.

(i now realize in the splitting of the second years i left riddle by his lonesome with octavinelle, so to him i formally apologize.)

warnings: horror movies are mentioned, ghosts too. also i daurnt proof read😍 (may ooc riddle? i tried on him i am sorry if it sucks</3)

included: floyd, jade, riddle, & azul!

⥳floyd⥴

- he just really, really enjoys spooking people.

- like, a chance to dress up all scary?? to see the lovely faces of people lighting up with utter fear? SIGN HIM UP.

- he’s trying to scare anyone and everyone, let’s not mention how he gets all moody when someone isn’t scared by him and just giggling at his antics instead.

- he hates decorating for halloween it’s way too much effort but lemme tell you, pumpkin carving or horror movie watching? he’s all for it.

- makes the worst jack-o-lantern you’ve ever seen. like seriously what is that? he would quite literally just smile and be like “i love it😄”. he’d give it a name and all.

- he adores horror movies on halloween because he likes giggling when people are super scared, likes to teasing people about it too. (the type to scream in the middle of an intensely quiet scene.)

- steals candy. steals so much candy. actually, forget stealing, he just scares people into handing over candy to him and has NO remorse for it, they should’ve just been tougher, barely even put up a fight!

- he might even consider changing costumes halfway through the night so he can re-scare people or keep himself from getting bored.

⥴jade⥳

- he loves halloween are you kidding me.

- he loves costumes he seriously does, dressing up is just so exciting for him. he likes to look mysterious and all fancy.

- we all know halloween in the sea is much different so he’s still learning more about land halloween and boy is he INTERESTED. especially learning about all the cultures traditions, he’s captivated!

- also quite enjoys scaring people, he’ll wear a scary costume but go around acting like a living angels all night until he gets to chance to absolutely horrify people. then just does his lil soft smirk and struts away (he totally struts.)

- he also loves telling scary stories in the calmest most monotone voice while describing the most traumatizing scary thing ever. (it’s more chilling this way i’m telling you.)

- he would scare people in the most methodical way physically possible and he would act so shocked and innocent as his plan unraveled.

- the opposite of floyd in the pumpkin carving area, his pumpkin would be so gorgeous. like how did this man manage to make an art piece out of a PUMPKIN??

- he’s not a big candy fan tbh, man is floyd or someone else gonna luck out if he decides he’s feeling sweet enough to hand it all over.

♔riddle♔

- i beg of someone show him he can actually time to relax and enjoy himself on halloween.

- if he were to be somehow persuaded to go trick-or-treating i do think he would rather enjoy himself. to give himself a chance to be a bit of a kid, to let loose yk. it would be fun for him to experience something exciting that he hasn’t before.

- doesn’t want candy, he doesn’t like junk food, but mayhaps if he likes someone enough he wouldn’t be opposed to getting candy and giving it all to said person. as long as the queens rules permit it though.

- declines to watch horror movies. he won’t do it, maybe something tamer like halloween town? even then he’s judging EVERYONE in it.

- his costumes are well thought out, they are absolutely not something stupid or spur of the moment like certain people. (*cough cough ace*)

- BUT he lowkey likes being a little scary on halloween, it’s the intimidation factor that he enjoys.

- he won’t carve pumpkins either, way too messy for his tastes, maybe if the queen allows it, he’ll partake in painting or drawing on the front of pumpkins!

✯azul✯

- he’s so excited. so excited. sure sure he may seem like he’s only in it for a profit (he’s THRILLED about said profit don’t get me wrong) but he loves halloween itself too.

- he does enjoy halloween profit but he also just enjoys halloween decorates, he likes all the cute halloween stuff and how he can make it all however he pleases. like little sugar cubes shaped like pumpkins or ghosts? he’ll never tell but he thinks they’re so cute.

- idc what he says he’s afraid of ghosts. like how ghosts are quite prevalent in the coral sea, as a kid he would hide under his covers and sob because he was fearful of them. (it happened i was totally there)

- he would watch halloween movies but would act so hard to seem uninterested or that in that situation he’d be a-okay.

- he convinces people he only likes to capitalize off halloween but he lowkey loves matching costumes and thinks they’re cute. if someone he likes asked him to match i stg he’d be unable to speak. (he turns into mush fr)

- i think he would really enjoy dressing up, he’s an extravagant man yk! if he gets to wear something that makes him feel on top of the world he’s gonna do it.

[thespineoftherighteous]

aftg headcanon: dan and andrew actually become friends in dans senior year

so idr if this is in the ec or not but i think the upperclassmen had a great time at edens twilight on halloween and they end up going out with the monsters on a semi-regular basis. nora never mentions it but i reckon edens has a really nice smoking area where neil and andrew will go out for a cig. this is nothing groundbreaking so far BUT my hc is that dan used to smoke in high school (like on break at the club with her sisters), and still occasionally will crash a cig off someone when shes drunk. so please join me in picturing a Very trashed dan wilds pleading with a bemused andrew to give her a cigarette

also i love the idea of when andrew actually starts caring abt exy he seeks dan out to talk to her abt the team, like things hes noticed abt the backline or whatever. the first time dan about jumps out her skin when andrew is waiting for her after class but then he just wants to tell her about a new backline strategy hes thought of

OOH GOOD STUFF

I'm such a slut for the foxes becoming closer, especially inter-upperclassmen/monsters relationships so this is right up my lane. I think the upperclassmen DO start going out with the monsters and while Andrew probably has no interest in becoming close with the upperclassmen, Dan is the one most desperate for closer connection so I think she'd make a point of trying to learn what needs to be done and how to approach Andrew in the way that he'll accept. and I think it takes some time and a lot of being played with by Andrew before it becomes not unusual for them to be comfortable spending time with each other.

anyway I keep going back and forth on whether dan would be a smoker because I feel like she'd be the type of athlete to hate smoking/drugs (maybe?) but honestly for sake of this hc, fuck it. I think it'd also amuse Andrew to see the lengths she'd go to to get into his good books.

obsessedddd with the last point specifically because I see that happening even more clearly. I think he'd even prefer going to dan over Kevin or Neil because I think there's still that piece that wants to fight exy, that still doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him enjoy it. but Dan will never be that important to him and she wouldn't see it as a big enough deal to draw attention to it.

maybe one time Andrew goes over to coach's place to annoy him and finds coach and dan drinking coffee and talking exy and Andrew makes a point of being uninvolved with the conversation, instead just walking around poking through coach's shit or making himself a shake with the ice cream that only he eats or pulling out all the books on coach's shelves. and then he settles himself on the floor with his shake still characteristically mute and looking bored until the conversation changes. but then the next day he meets Dan at her class or corners her after practice and says "here's why your strategy sucks: " and she's very startled that he was even paying attention enough to understand it, let alone to think about it for a whole day afterwards but she collects herself and goes back and forth with him and next time she's ready for it.

[aluria-sevhex]

ToT Bonnie i love you but that is not how it's pronounced

NOW FOR MY NOTES, COPIED FROM MY NOTES APP INSTEAD OF SCREENSHOTTED THIS TIME (edit: put it under a read more because long)

ACT 2

-THE TIPS ON HOW TO PLAY ARE FUCKING DIAGETIC?

-"stardust" are you the starhead bitch from the trailers

-i feel like i'll have to ask the librarian for a book eventually

-THE RUNNING ONE IS CALLING OUT SIF LOL (for running from his problems) (hmmmm Sif what problems r u running from?)

-ugh. it's the starhead bitch

-plot twist the star head is Siffrin and that's why he's depressed :P

-their name is Loop. i don't trust them

-"Yeah, better know this one's pronouns so you can think very clearly in your head that they're getting on your nerves."

-LOOP CAN READ THE PROFILES? WHAT KIND OF META BULLSHIT IS THIS </positive i fucking love meta bullshit>

-hm is Loop some sort of weird representation of the player. or a god.

-learn WHAT?

-hm feel like this game might explore some of the moral iffiness that tends to arise with time loops. is a friendship genuine if one person knows exactly what the other will say?

-"don't eat pineapples. you're allergic" fuck you. i WILL eat pineapples and i WILL enter anaphylaxis and i WILL die stupidly but it will be WORTH IT

-WAIT HOLD UP WHAT WAS THAT DIALOGUE IN THE >> TUTORIAL "don't make the same mistakes i did" I THINK THAT'S WHAT THEY SAID HOLD UP

-maybe Loop was a normal person who got stuck in a time loop for too long and fucked up somehow? and that's why they're like this

-idk if i'll zone out much i don't wanna miss any differences

-altho if there's a difference won't i zone back in?

-then again there's a lot of dialogue

-maybe this will be plot-important somehow?

update after being gone for a bit:

-Tears weewoo

-SIFFRIN SAID NYA

-side note i am so glad i fought that thing that dropped the crest even tho it was hard. fighting it again on future loops is gonna suck tho

-also fun fact right after i died to the Tears i ran ahead and accidentally got crushed by the rock again. which i think is bullshit because I RAN TO THE SIDE OF THE ROOM

-back to more important things. like Siffrin saying nya. or the thyme pun.

-ODILE SAID IT. look she has a phd or whatever equivalent there is here probably, she's like 40, i think she's earned the right to do whatever the fuck she wants

-Isabeau is AOBB (Assigned Omelette By Bonnie)

-"It'd be awful to keep yourself from becoming a person you feel comfortable with just because it would upset someone else."

Breaking news: the game where the protagonist uses he/they, two other major characters use they/them, and there is a conversation explicitly referencing pronouns and giving them, unsurprisingly supports trans rights

-BONNIE DO NOT EAT THE EGG KEYCHAIN

-BONNIE HAS A WOK >:D

-uh... why are the Vaugardians freaking out over crab. does the Change religion ban it?

-Vaugarde is weird. first, they have a VERY SPECIFIC RULE where entering the FIRST ROOM of a house is fine, but any further is rude. second: crabs??? ok i guess???

-an openphrase... ya mean a password?

-fuck it i am fully in "taking gratuitous extensive notes" mode

-hehe protector craft is gullible :P

-oh hey tasteful artistic nudes. so this room's resident is an art student. hopefully their grasp of anatomy was improved :]

-Mira said what the crab instead of what the hell

-"what the CRAB did you let Bonnie do when we said no!!!"

-YOU LET THE PRE-TEEN DRINK VODKA???

-LMAOOOOOOOO IT WAS WATER. I LOVE HOW MUCH OF A LITTLE SHIT SIFFRIN IS

-checked it again. the people are "doing fun things" eh so what if an art student draws porn, that's on me for peeking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ still hope it improved their grasp of anatomy. if the anatomy was bad and the narration didn't tell me i would be disappointed in it :P

-ooo drawn tarot card. isn't the Six of Swords a bad one? i feel like it's foreshadowing somehow but i don't feel like looking its meaning up

-i fucking hate the triplet Sadnesses they're so annoying

-the reason the Mandela Effect with Berenstein/Berenstain happened is because Sif equipped the e

-OH? saving records party progress if you loop back to that spot :0

-yippee i beat the Sadness boss that changes its type (this is like the first enemy that does that i think)

-Mira are you hungry

-YEAH LET'S FUCKIN' EAT

-this question keeps popping in my head but where the fuck IS Siffrin from plot twist the kid was right and he's from the sky idk i'm saying random shit

-SNACK TIME

[thomas-jefferson-miku-binder]

hiiiiii cali 📓👀

hehe hi cas!

I don't have much planned about this, but that's kind of the prompt of the ask game so I'll jus talk about it.

Indie Rock Band AU with Zeri, Jinx, Seraphine, Rell, and Briar. THIS IS NOT IN THE LEAGUE MUSIC VERSE (FORGET K/DA, TRUE DAMAGE, PENTAKILL AND HEARTSTEEL FOR THIS ONE)

It's very based off of Daisy and the Scouts'story in the sense that it's just a college band for weird queers.

Zeri is the closest thing our band, Entresol, has to a leader. She birthed this group with her bare hands and treats it very seriously (more seriously than she would like to admit at times). Zeri is the main vocalist and the lead electric guitarist. She also composes (only guitar parts) and likes to write lyrics. Very similar to Runeterra!Zeri but she is a bit more of a control freak when it comes to the band just because of how precious it is to her.

Entresol started out with just the Zeri and Jinx duo. Jinx is the oldest here and a mixture of her Runeterra and Arcane versions, although a bit more stable. She is by far the most musically talented of the five and usually plays whatever instrument the song calls for (even if that means learning a new instrument in a few days). She and Zeri are best friends (Jinx is someone who surprisingly calms Zeri down when she is too feisty). She never talks about her past, and even Zeri only knows some details despite having known each other for a while. They work amazingly as a duo. Jinx also produces every single one of their songs and dabbles in writing. (she also draws their album covers)

Rell is the bassist, and she is also pretty similar to her Runeterra ver, except more stable now that she has a friend group to help her get through her parent's bullshit. She likes to play tough but is usually the one with the most sentimental lyrics and melodies to her name. And everybody but Seraphine seems to notice the massive huge crush Rell has on her. Unlike Seraphine's entry, the question of whether or not Rell should join them was unanimously voted as a yes.

Seraphine was the last member to enter before Rell, and she is a vocalist alongside Zeri and plays the (electric) guitar. She started out as a soloist doing covers on YouTube, much like her K/DA ver, but was ultimately unsuccessful. Jinx saw her potential and how secretly weird (lame) she was and convinced Zeri to give her a chance. Sera and Zeri have a frenemy relationship because Zeri is extremely competitive and does not like that this kind and pretty girl also "doesn't completely suck" at singing and is "actually maybe a bit talented or whatever". They develop to become actual friends (although to Seraphine they never were not) with the not-so-occasional banter, that Seraphien indulges in as she knows is Zeri';s way to show affection towards her. Jinx also seems to be the only one to notice that Zeri may find it kinda hot when they fight, something that Zeri herself hasn't realized and would probably combust in shame if she did.

Briar was the third to join Entresol. Her personality is identical to Runeterra!Briar but instead of killing people in her frenzy she just slays the drums. She was actually in the official lame college band thing but was ultimately unhappy and isolated there. Zeri and Jinx see her going at it in the drums once after rehearsal and ask her to join. She doesn't compose usually and doesn't write. "I'm not good with the wordy stuff. Whatever I have to say the drums say for me. I'll leave that to you."

[bellysoupset]

popping in with a prompt/suggestion for vince cause i love me a lactose intolerant boy with lil tummy and his gf is also very hot so it’s a win win :) i was thinking it’d be fun if they were staying in a hotel for the weekend (maybe for a medical convention that wendy is going to?) and so they go to an unfamiliar coffee shop and the barista makes vince’s drink with regular milk. as the hours tick by and the convention draws closer, he’s miserable because his tummy is getting more and more upset and he doesn’t know why. he doesn’t want to disappoint wendy but he really doesn’t want to go because he’ll just end up spending the whole evening locked in a bathroom stall :(

Alright, this spiraled out of control. Anon, have some Vince and Wendy in NYC, him meeting her parents, having a lactose intolerance episode in the most inopportune moment and learning more about Wendy's past.

TW: discussions of transphobia and mental health issues, but nothing actually happens in the fic.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vince wasn't a heavy sleeper, he had never been. He was an insistent sleeper, meaning he refused to open his eyes at every little noise that woke him up.

Like the thunders that shook the structure of the building or Wendy's little rushed whispers. He rolled on the bed and let out a happy noise when his cheek met her thigh. Vince snuggled closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and felt her gentle fingers stroke over his cheek, then start playing with his hair.

He wasn't paying any attention to what Wendy's whispered conversation on the phone, so he was genuinely lost when she leaned in and planted a kiss on his forehead, saying just a little louder, "what do you think?"

"Uhm?" Vince forced his eyes open and then opened a smile when he met her face leaning over his, "hi..."

"Hi," she smiled, leaning back against the pillows, "what do you think?"

"About?" Vince yawned, rolling around so he could bury his face on Wendy's stomach. She giggled, starting to scratch his naked back instead of his scalp.

"Going to NYC this weekend," Wendy answered, "there's a medical convention on neurology and Jon's got tickets, but he doesn't want them anymore."

"Sounds boring," Vince scoffed, giving up on sleep and sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, duh, but it's only going to be one evening... We could go to the Broadway, you like theater..." Wendy said, her voice gaining that whiny consistency that worked so well on him.

Vince rolled his eyes, he knew how to pick his battles and this was not even a parking lot fight. She'd get whatever she wanted, no matter how boring the convention sounded... "Wait," he interrupted his own thoughts and Wendy raised her eyebrows, almost as shocked as him that he hadn't folded immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you from NYC?" Vince frowned, "am I meeting your folks?"

She blushed, shrugging and avoiding his eyes, "if you want to meet them, sure..."

"Do you want me to?" he grabbed her chin, forcing their eyes to meet and Wendy shrugged again.

"I guess...? I don't know, I want you to meet them, but they also... They're not a good time, Vin," she bit her lip, seeming torn, so Vince made the executive decision for both of them.

"I don't care," he said, pushing a strand of messy hair away from her eyes, "I wanna meet them, alright? It can be just a dinner."

"Just a dinner sounds fine," Wendy agreed eagerly, cheeks turning even redder, "it kinda sucks that your parents are just... So amazing. They make mine suck by simple comparison."

Vince rolled his eyes, shutting her up with a kiss, "they're not that awful, I'm sure. Besides, I don't care even if they are... It's about getting to know you better, not them."

"Uhmmm," Wendy mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back, "so NYC this weekend?"

"Sure, sure, sure," Vince said barely paying attention, pushing her back against the pillows.

----------

"You look fine, stop fiddling with your blouse," He said, wrapping an arm around Wendy's shoulders and tugging her to him. His girlfriend let out an unhappy noise, once more pulling on the front cords of her top.

It was rare he got to see Wendy be this out of sorts, normally she was so sure of herself. Not today. She had been on a manic state since morning, despite the flight between Maine and New York only taking an hour and the convention starting at midday, they had left to the airport at 7 AM. She had picked his clothes, she packed and then re-packed at least twice and no amount of flirty banter had won Vince more than a lukewarm smile.

"Hey," he sighed, pressing his lips to the top of her head, "it's going to be fine, honey. I'm great with parents."

"You are not the one I'm worried about," Wendy groaned, sinking in his embrace, "I'm sorry, I just... I just don't want them to scare you away, that's all."

"They couldn't even if they tried," Vince squeezed her against him as they approached the convention center where the event was being hosted, "I'll meet your back here in five hours?"

"Are you sure you don't wanna stick around?" Wendy sounded all hopeful, but as much as Vince loved her, a neurology convention was not his idea of a good day. He shook his head.

"I love you, but absolutely not. Google Maps says we're close to the Cloisters, so I have my plans laid out for me," Vince said, pecking Wendy's pout, "honey, I'd be a cardboard cut out in a neurology convention."

"I know," Wendy sighed, nodding, "don't cheat and visit the Met without me."

"I wouldn't even know how to get there," Vince lied cheekily and she rolled her eyes, tip toeing to kiss him again.

"I'll see you in five hours. Text me if something happens or you get lost."

"I'm not gonna get lost," he huffed, biting her bottom lip and pulling back with a wink, "have fun looking at brains, weirdo."

"Have fun looking at old bricks, nerd," she answered, smiling as Vince turned around and left her.

The Cloisters were more than just old bricks, although it had its fair share of those too. It was the US' only museum dedicated to Middle Ages art and architecture and Vince was almost bouncing on his feet as he got to indulge his nerdy side.

He was a sucker for medieval history and Vince was completely sucked in as he followed the tour guide around, enjoying the role reversal of him being the visitor instead of the one talking endlessly.

The building had a Romanesque section that had him almost vibrating with excitement and snapping a million pictures, bombarding their friend's group chat. The Early Gothic Hall had him tripping over himself to catch up with the tour guide, as Vince got lost gazing at the mosaics.

Finally, after a two hours and a half long tour, he hit the gift shops and cafe.

He ordered a croissant and a latte, then happily went to inspect the overpriced gifts the museum offered. Vince wasn't much of a gift giving person, but he knew Wendy loved all sorts of trinkets, so he bought her a Tudor decorated fountain pen and a silk neckerchief with a Degas painting printed on it.

Deciding he'd buy other trinkets for their friends once the trip was over, Vince happily took his order from the cafe and started walking back to the subway station.

By the time he reached the convention center, he had long finished his food and was starting to not feel so hot. He wasn't sure if it was motion sickness from the thirty minutes long journey from uptown to midtown or if the cafe food hadn't been good, but regardless his stomach was feeling iffy.

He grimaced as a cramp hit him just as he entered the convention center, showing his ticket and ID to the lady at the entrance. It was a big place, with three different floors and Vince let out a sigh of relief as he felt the freezing A/C cool him down.

Maybe it was just some weird motion sickness, he sure as hell wasn't used to subways back in their town.

He fished out his phone, shooting Wendy a text and then wandering around, trying to find a water fountain. There wasn't one, of course, but there was a vending machine, so he bought a can of tonic water, which he was still sipping when he spotted Wendy's dark head among the crowd that was just leaving one of the lecture rooms.

Vince let out a sigh of relief, power walking in her direction, ready to ask if they could cut the trip 30 mins shorter so he could go to their hotel and just rest a bit before dinner with her parents, when he realized Wendy had company.

She spotted him the minute he stopped walking, opening a big smile and gesturing as she exclaimed, "Vince!"

He knew exactly who her companions were, before even being introduced.

Wendy's mom had wavy honey colored hair reaching the middle of her back, with dark eyebrows and lashes, so he knew she wasn't a natural blonde. She was shorter than her daughter, but not by much, and she was pale, wearing impeccable make up, with the same heart shaped face as Wendy.

Next to her, Wendy's father was completely bald, with his daughter's striking green eyes. He also had Wendy's bright smile and looked friendly as he zeroed in Vince.

"You must be Vincenzo," he presumed, raising a hand for Vin to shake, as if Wendy hadn't just said Vince's name, "I'm Sheldon, this is my wife Lydia. We're Wendy's parents."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Vince shook the man's hand, noticing just how tiny it felt in his. Both her parents were shorter than Vince by a lot and he felt all the more out of his element, the stumbling giant compared to these tiny, polite doctors.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Lydia said, stepping forward so Vince could shake her hand too.

There was a brief, awkward pause, that Vince quickly ended by asking, "I thought we were meant to meet you for dinner?"

"I just ran into them!" Wendy answered, moving away from her mom so she could take Vince's hand in hers, "I should've guessed you'd come to the convention."

"You'd have known if you had asked," Lydia answered and although she didn't seem to be antagonizing Wendy, her voice had none of the warmth either. Vince opened an uneasy smile.

"I thought it was a neurology convention? Wendy told me you're a dermatologist, ma'am. And you're an... Anesthesia doctor, right, sir?"

"Anesthesiologist," Sheldon nodded, seeming amused, "not half as glamorous as a dermatologist."

"But any hospital would come to a halt without one," Vince said, winning a genuine smile. Lydia crisped her lips.

"Yes, but some of our family friends were lecturing today," she explained, "we had to congratulate them."

Wendy squeezed Vince's fingers tightly between hers, "alright, uhmm... Mother, did you pick where we're having dinner?"

Lydia frowned, light brown eyes turning into little beads as she squinted, "pardon me? We're having dinner at home, of course."

Vince caught Wendy's grimace before she quickly covered it up with a polite smile, "I thought you said you were craving french food..."

"Yes, one of Michel's specialties," Lydia rolled her eyes, "besides, your boyfriend's never been to our place, it's only polite."

Vince wasn't so sure about polite. If he could take a hunch, he'd go with intimidating. As Sheldon led the way and Wendy squeezed his arm, looking vastly uncomfortable, he knew there was no way he could take a detour at the hotel. He'd just have to suck up his stomachache and gobble up whatever fancy food her parents put in front of him.

Instead of getting the subway again, they got into an SUV and Vince grimaced as he slid in alongside Wendy. Despite the spacious car, he could never sit in a backseat, since he was too much of a giant. He felt even more trapped, his knees up to his chest and Wendy muffled a chuckle, planting a small kiss on his bicep.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he shook his head, smiling at her, but keeping his eyes in the horizon. The last thing he wanted was to get carsick on top of the already uneasy ache in his belly.

Wendy's place, or rather, her parent's place wasn't that far from the conventions center. Only twenty minutes, painful twenty minutes where Vince was acutely aware of the car's heavy silence and the fact his guts were being very vocal. He wasn't sure if he was the only one hearing the noises or not, but to him they were very clear.

It was so weird the fact these people didn't talk.

Their place, a parisian style townhouse in Carnegie Hill, was simultaneously underwhelming and overwhelming. Vince wasn't sure what to do with the information that this house that was upper middle class for sure, was probably worth up to millions because of its location alone. To him, it seemed like a regular 4 rooms house, if a little fancy.

"C'mon," Wendy tugged on his arm, circling the car. He tried to imagine her living there, walking to school... A much younger version of herself. He couldn't.

Lydia walked ahead of them, dropping off her coat with a maid who rushed to open the door and Vince cringed. Even in Italy, where he was aware they had been at a very expensive place, he hadn't seen any staff. Be it because Luke's house was abandoned or not, Vince preferred it that way.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself, if he should hang his jacket or hand it to the poor girl who was looking at him with a puzzled frown. Wendy solved it by grabbing the jacket with a yank and handing it to the girl, all the while smiling, "Hi Mary! How are you? How are the kids?"

Vince studied her, feeling like he was watching a movie. It was Wendy all right, friendly and extroverted, but... More quiet. Her gestures not as dramatic, as if she was holding herself back.

He turned away, while her parents disappeared inside the house. There were only art pieces in the foye, no pictures, so he had to pretend he was very interested in the messy red painting and not dividing his attention between overhearing Wen's conversation and focusing on his upset stomach.

A gurgle ran down his tummy and he pressed his eyes closed, gulping down. It was starting to cramp.

"I'd hate to interrupt your art nerd moment," Wendy whispered, bumping her arm against his, clearly reading right through his pretense, "but do you wanna maybe take a look around the place? I can show you my old room."

"Please," Vince said, relieved. Standing still was just making him hyperaware of how awful he felt.

Wendy grabbed his hand, pulling him forward. He couldn't pay attention. Vaguely Vince heard "this is the reading nook" and "mother's office" and "dining room", but all he could think about was the fact that sweat was starting to run down his back.

She pulled him up the stairs, bouncing on her feet, "and here to the right is my old room, unless they converted it into a dance studio," Wendy said with an eyeroll, before pushing the door open.

It was nothing like her.

Vince would know, he was well versed on her decor tastes by now. Instead the whole room was in shades of beige and cream, with wooden details. It was delicate, but there was no pink, no lilac, no flowers or busy wallpaper or anything that remotely reminded him of his girlfriend.

"Are you sure we're in the right room?" Vince frowned, following her in and looking around. It was a really nice, spacious room, with a small walk in closet and a suite. Still... "Where's the color?"

Wendy snorted, fiddling with the books in the shelves near her big bed, "my parents would have a stroke if I had a bubblegum pink bedroom... What would our relatives think?" she rolled her eyes and Vince frowned.

Back at his parents home, his room was still the same. Messy, with his three motorcycle posters up in the walls, his pile of books and all the nerdy shit he had collected over the years. Wendy's room felt like it was ready to have its picture taken for some decoration magazine.

"Have your parents been to your place yet?" He asked, moving around. She had almost no books, the few he could see were about high school biology or chemistry...

"Could you imagine them there?" Wendy snickered, hugging him by the middle, "my mother would implo- Aww honey, you must be starving."

Vince grimaced, sure she had felt the upset rumbling of his stomach. He made a noncommittal noise, still hellbent on pretending it was fine. It was fine, even if he was feeling more than a little nauseous and shaky with all the cramping.

"Oh look at you..." Vince cooed, instead of addressing what she said, reaching forward to grab a pictured frame. He could easily identify Wendy between two other girls, even if she was different. She was much skinnier in the picture, the dress hung awkwardly on her and there were no boobs, her brown hair twice as long and draping on her front, with heavy bangs, "Joni Mitchell herself."

"Oh shut up!" Wendy squealed, her whole face ablaze. She bit her lip nervously, "I look terrible..."

"No, you don't," Vince rolled his eyes, studying the little Wendy in the picture, "alright, where are the baby pictures?"

Wendy rolled her eyes, turning around in the half hug so she could press her cheek to his chest and Vince winced when that pushed a queasy burp one, that he swallowed back down. He pressed his eyes closed, forcing down a moan over how disgusting his mouth felt, the latte from before creeping up his throat.

"I'm glad you're here with me," Wen whispered, blissfully unaware of his conundrum. Vince grimaced, running a hand up her back and feeling a twinge of self loathing. He hated that his belly was acting up in such an important moment for her.

He knew by now that surely the food at the museum had been bad, his best guess being the barista had used whole milk in his latte and not oat milk.

Unable to answer her, Vince opted for kissing the top of her head and then they peeled apart.

Dinner was hellish. He didn't expect it to be remotely enjoyable, but he didn't expect it to suck so badly. Wendy had warned her parents he was lactose intolerant, so there were plenty of options for him to eat from, much to Vince's absolute horror.

He almost gagged at the creamy sauce that was planted in front of him, his stomach churning and intestines squeezing as he kept a painful smile on and tried to listen to her parents weird overly polite conversation.

The Marshalls were weird people, Vince thought bitterly. Wendy's mother barely spoke, only made little disdainful noises and wrinkled her nose at every single answer Vin gave to Sheldon's questions.

What's your major? What do you work with? Where is your family from?

"Oh you're an immigrant?" Was the first thing she said after at least thirty minutes of painfully awkward silence and Vince silently praying for his death. He hated the silence above all, because he was sure everyone could hear the upset gurgles in his tummy.

He jammed his fork through the fish he had been pushing around his plate for the past half hour, fingers squeezing the metal and forced his voice to remain steady as he said, "yeah, we moved here when I was ten."

"Legally?" Lydia raised an eyebrow and Vince glared at her, the fork sliding on the plate with how much force he was applying and almost sending his fish flying.

"Yes, legally, ma'am," he answered through his teeth, letting the fork clank back down on the porcelain plate and deciding that there was no way he could pretend to be feeling fine, not with these questions, not when it felt like his body was trying to explode on him, "excuse me."

He pushed back from the table, avoiding Wendy's worried gaze and hearing her exclaim "mother! What the fuck was that question!?" and her father scoff "oh great, he's bulimic too," as Vince sped down the hall.

He didn't remember the bathrooms downstairs from Wen's tour, but he did remember her room was a suite, so Vince all but sprinted up the stairs, as fast as he could on shaky legs.

A fierce cramp went through his intestines just as he burst in her room and he clutched his tummy, folding forward and letting out a choked noise as vomit flooded his mouth, dangerous gurgles warning him he had even more pressing issues than that though.

Vince barely had time to shove the bathroom door locked, before collapsing on the seat, pants pooling around his knees, frantically looking for the trashbin as he couldn't manage to swallow the foul liquid in his mouth.

Why didn't rich people ever have visible waste baskets!?

He couldn't find it and another gag made his spine roll, his stomach squeezing again - He reached forward and grabbed a towel, holding it like a cocoon on his lap and finally opening his mouth.

It was humiliating and painful. His intestines were cramping like hell, it felt like there was an iron hand squeezing his insides like a squeak toy. His stomach churned as more of the dinner he had forced down came up, barely digested, staining Wendy's fluffy white towel.

Vince coughed and whimpered, unable to keep the tears at bay. He felt horrible and horrified he'd have to face the Marshalls after this... Vince groaned out loud, struggling to breath, bent in half over the mess, unable to close his mouth with how queasy he felt.

His belly let out a sad whine, cramping and churning, but also feeling hollow and raw. Vince spluttered for air, dry heaving for another handful of minutes before he managed to get his stomach on check.

There was a little knock on the door and then Wendy's voice traveled through, "Vin, can I come in?"

Fuck no.

"No," he answered roughly, glaring at the mess on his lap and folding the ends of the towel, the movement causing him to feel just how sore his middle was. It felt like he had done a million abdominals... The mere act of moving making him pause and breathe through it.

There was another timid knock, "okay... Can I call the car to get us back to the hotel? Or do you need more time?"

He wasn't sure. Vince wanted to get the hell out of this house, preferably before her parents saw the mess, but he also wasn't sure if he trusted his belly to stay in check. He leaned over the towel again, bringing up a small, wet burp and gulping down the bile with a shudder.

"Vin?"

"Just give me a minute!" Vince snapped, before promptly sniffling, swallowing the knot in his throat. He didn't want to yell at her or be sitting on the toilet with a puddle of his own vomit or to be in her parents fucking house where he was so out of place. He didn't want to be there.

Crying — or trying his best not to cry — was not a good added strain on his belly and soon he found himself heaving over the towel again, trying to cough up his stomach lining. His lower belly was still gurgling bloody murder, even though he felt wrung dry, fruitlessly trying to get rid of anything else.

Vince straightened up as best as he could, spitting a pathetic amount of frothy saliva and unsure of what to do with himself. He wiped at his face, brushing away the tears and the drool still clinging to his lips, clearing his throat twice before croaking a pathetic, "Wendy?"

"Yes?" it sounded like she was glued to the door, which was both heartwarming and mortifying. Vince's shoulders fell in defeat.

"Can you help me?" He needed to clean up, but he was afraid of moving with the soiled towel on his lap and cause an even bigger mess. If he dripped vomit on the ground or her ridiculously fancy bathmat, Vince decided he'd jump out of a window.

"Of course," she pushed the door open and Vince looked away immediately. He didn't want to see a disgusted frown or her gagging on instinct because of the smell and the visuals.

Instead her cold hands came to cup his cheek, thumbs rubbing in circles before she dropped her hands to his shoulder, pushing him back slightly, "aw, my darling..."

"I'm so sorry-" Vince groaned, his eyes stinging, "I swear I tried not to make a mess, I just- I don't know where the trash is and I was feeling so horr-"

"Honey, I don't care about the towel," Wendy scoffed, planting a kiss on the top of his head, "you poor thing..." she rubbed his back up and down and Vince leaned forward, hiding his face against her stomach and trying not to break down crying.

"I wanna go home," he groaned and yeah, he meant home, but the hotel was good enough. Wendy let out another sympathetic coo.

"I already called the car," she undid his loose manbun on the base of his neck, pulling his curls up and tying them back again, "lean back, let me handle this..."

Carefully she grabbed the ends of the ruined towel, balling it up and quickly moving it to the sink. Vince heard another loud growl coming from his stomach and cursed, hugging his middle.

"Wendy... I need you to get out. Please, get out-"

She opened her mouth to complain, but it was already far too late. With another loud whine, his intestines finished emptying in the bowl, all the while Vince's blushed cheeks turned white to match the rest of his face and he gagged against his hand.

"Here, here, I got you," Wendy hurried, leaving the towel inside the sink and opening the cabinet. Instead of it opening to the side, it opened forward, concealing a bin shutter. One she promptly grabbed out of it's placement and held under his chin to catch a little dribble of vomit and a load more of empty heaves.

"Shhhh," she held his forehead with one hand, the other one supporting the bin, "honey, you need to breathe..." Vince was a trembling mess under her hand, tears leaking from the corner of his eye.

He let out a pitiful moan, head handing and now openly crying, "this is so gross and humiliating and- I'm s-sorry..."

"It's not your fault, Vin," Wendy scoffed, running her free hand under the tap and pressing it back to his forehead, hand wet and cool, "are you done?"

"I think so... I need to clean up, can you step outside?"

"Yeah," she put the bin back in place, stepping back, "don't worry about the towel, I'll get it to laundr-"

"No, your parents-"

"I don't care about my that, just focus on cleaning up so we can get back to the hotel, alright?" Wendy rolled her eyes, grabbing the ruined towel and rushing out of the room.

Vince met her back in the bedroom a handful of minutes later, face milky white and hunched onto himself, one arm wrapped around his stomach as if to protect it.

"Where are your parents...?"

"Upstairs," Wendy rolled her eyes, wrapping an arm around his back, "sulking. They'll get over it," she guided him to the first floor, "really Vin, I swear it's all fine... I'm the one who's sorry."

"Whatever for?" His voice sounded like he had gargled with glass shards and Vince winced, massaging his throat and following Wendy out of the house, breathing out in relief at the cool air.

"I didn't realize you weren't feeling well, if I had known I would've come up with an excuse so we didn't stay for dinner..." Wendy held the backseat door open for him and he slipped inside the car, relaxing against the leather seats, mumbling a small "good evening" to the driver.

"That's not on you," Vince groaned, pressing his forehead to the cool glass and muffling a small belch as the car started back up, the driver checking the address with Wendy, "it's my fault for not speaking up."

Wendy sighed, leaning in so she could rub his arm and planting a kiss to his shoulder, "you wanted to impress them and me, I don't hold it against you either..." she moved her hand to his belly and Vince let out a groan, leaning back on the seat and closing his eyes and she rubbed small, discreet circles on his tummy.

He must've dozed off, because next he opened his eyes, they were parking before the hotel and Wendy was ushering him out of the car. She didn't say anything as he hugged her closer, like a teddy bear, during the entire elevator trip and not even when he beelined to the bathroom and locked the door.

Vince came out almost an hour later, face flushed from the hot water, with a towel wrapped around his hip, wet hair dangling on either side of his face. He sat down on the bed with a sigh, with no energy to dress himself and Wendy crawled on the bed, draping herself on his back.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He leaned back, opening a little smile as he felt her fingers untangling his hair.

"Your dad said something," he said slowly, almost melting under the hair pets, "when I left the dining room."

"My dad said a lot of things," Wendy teased, but her voice was suddenly tense. Vince rolled his eyes, collapsing back, so he was half lying down, head on her lap.

He played with her hand, giving her time, "he said something about me being another bulimic."

Wendy's hand froze in his and Vince winced, knowing he had heard that right and assumed it correctly. He intertwined their fingers, "Wen?"

She shrugged, looking away as if his knee was suddenly the most interesting part of the room, "it was a long time ago, my parents just seem to think I'm eternally sixteen."

"Can you tell me?"

She hesitated, seeming to think about it, before carefully saying, "before I transitioned, before I even realized I was trans, things were... Weird. Well, bad. I knew something was different and I knew something was different with me. I wasn't like the other boys... My parents definitely could tell I was different, they sent me to an all boys school, probably hoping it would stop me from being gay."

"Sounds counterintuitive," Vince said lightly and she chuckled, moving on the bed so his head was resting on her thigh, but she could drape herself down and look him in the eye.

"I know, right? So they just started to cut all of my interests and hope they could fix me, which obviously they couldn't because there was nothing broken to begin with. Eventually mom even came to terms with I was possibly gay. Except I wasn't," Wendy rolled her eyes, "when I realized I was trans, I told them."

"And they weren't cool about it," Vince guessed and she shook her head, playing with one of his curls.

"Not in the least. So I spiraled... I spiraled bad. It was one thing to know something was different about me, it was another to know what I needed in order to be happy and have it denied and them calling me crazy. I hated my body and I hated my life and it snowballed... Bulimia, self harming, my journals were... Well, much worse than teenage drama. I was hopping from therapist to therapist, because my parents still thought I was straight up delusional, I was dropping weight like crazy, I was drinking..."

Vince frowned, looking at her, "and how did it stop?"

"...I downed one of my mom's bottle of pills, on my sixteenth birthday," Wendy said with a grimace, watching Vince's eyes widen in horror.

"Wendy..."

"I know," she sighed, "so that gave them quite the scare and they stopped being fucking assholes... I got therapy, real therapy, not conversion therapy. I got on antidepressants and had a nutritionist and all that... And then I left for college and I got gender affirming surgery, that helped like a fuckload, and I got to legally change my name and change universities... And things got better."

"I'm so so sorry your folks are such asses and that you went through all this, honey," Vince pouted, tugging her closer, "thank you for telling me, though... For trusting me."

Wendy opened a teary smile, looking away to get herself in check, before she scooted even closer. She traced a hand up and down his naked chest, biting her lip, "I was scared of telling you."

"Why-"

"No, not this," she shrugged, "before, when we first started flirting. I was sooo scared of telling you I was trans and you ruining things. I mean, you're a football player, Vince, I was expecting to get hate crimed."

He flinched, while she rolled her eyes, causing Vince to pout.

"I'd never-"

"I know," Wendy smoothed a curly chest hair back down, straightening it under her fingers, "but you can't blame a girl for looking out for herself."

Vince let out an unhappy noise, before squinting, "is that why you kept vanishing whenever we sexted...? And then texting back the next day?"

Wendy's whole face turned red and she pinched his side, causing him to squirm, opening a smug smile at her reaction.

"I thought you promised to never mention that again!"

"I'm just wondering!" Vince giggled, grabbing at her wrist and pulling her closer, "viene qui — viene qui, amore mio," he scoffed, forcing Wendy to close the space between them and kissing her, "you're amazing and I love you."

"Yeah?" she bumped her nose with his, "e ti amo... too?"

His face lit up at the broken Italian, "close enough," Vince sighed with a big smile, pulling her back in for a kiss.

[astorytotellyourfriends]

"I can't let you back on the road in that fire hazard," Eddie says, huffing with laughter. "If there was a mechanic's code, I'd be breaking it." A giggle slips out of Chrissy's mouth before she can stop it. "Is it really that bad?" "Yep," Eddie replies, nodding his head as he sucks his teeth. "It's really that bad." "Well…" Chrissy feels a little thrill of confidence flow through her as she smiles at him, "...then I guess we're even after all."

happy one year anniversary to chapter 1 of if we don't leave this town, we might never make it out 🍾

i loved writing this fic so much and i miss this little universe i created all the time, so i thought what better way to honor the anniversary than to give you guys a little peek at what life's like for Eddie and Chrissy a few months after the last chapter ends. i hope you enjoy 💛

when we begin again

The roar of an engine and the crunch of gravel outside of the garage doesn’t startle Chrissy like it used to. She’s long grown used to all the ambient noise that she hears on a daily basis from Eddie’s garage, even with the door to the office closed. There’s only so much sound that the simple wood can muffle, but it’s okay. Chrissy doesn’t feel the constant need to look over her shoulder anymore.

Sure, sometimes when she and Eddie are out somewhere she’ll get that tingly feeling on the back of her neck that makes her anxiety rise and she can’t help but fear that someone is watching her, but Eddie’s always there to keep her grounded. To protect her.

He makes her feel safe in a way she never thought possible. And yeah, sometimes she wonders if maybe she relies on him a little too much, but it’s only been a few months. She’s still healing, emotionally speaking anyway, and someday she’ll really learn to stand on her own two feet.

Still, having a safety net isn’t such a bad thing.

The door to the office creaks open - Eddie refuses to grease the hinges because it always announces his (and anyone else’s) presence so there’s never a worry of someone sneaking up on Chrissy when she has her back turned - and Chrissy looks over her shoulder to find Eddie rocking back and forth on his heels, fighting a large smile.

“What?” she asks with a laugh, staring at him curiously as she slowly gets up from the desk.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Chrissy tilts her head, feeling excited but nervous as to what this surprise could be. If it was another mixtape, he would’ve just waltzed right into the office and plunked it into the stereo already. It can’t be a meal, given that it’s the middle of the afternoon, but Chrissy can’t seem to come up with another idea of what he could possibly be surprising her with.

“What is it?”

Eddie extends his hand, his palm wiped clean of the streaks of grease that continue from the wrist up, and Chrissy doesn’t even think to hesitate before she takes it.

He leads her out of the office and through the garage, to the bay at the far end that she could’ve sworn was empty this morning after Mrs. Henderson came to pick up her Buick the day before. Whatever car is sitting in its place is much smaller than that, but Chrissy can’t tell what it is because it’s covered by a tarp.

“Stand right… here,” Eddie says as he gently guides Chrissy to stand right at what she assumes is the front end of the car, “and close your eyes.”

“Eddie…”

“Just for a little while,” he promises with a soft kiss to her cheek. “Five seconds - maybe ten. Please?”

Chrissy lets out a little breath and presses her lips together to hold back a smile, dutifully raising her hands to cover her eyes a moment later.

“That’s my girl,” Eddie murmurs, drawing a giggle out of her that she couldn’t have stopped if she tried.

As she listens to Eddie pulling back the tarp she imagines what he must look like; she has no doubt in her mind that whenever she opens her eyes the tarp will be all bunched up and shoved off to the side, making her wonder why he even bothered with it in the first place.

“Okay!” Eddie’s grin bleeds through his voice and Chrissy’s own mouth curls into a smile as she hears his footsteps come closer to her. He puts one hand on her elbow before he steps behind her, pressing his chest up against her back and all but enveloping her as he puts his mouth to her ear. “Open your eyes.”

She pulls her hands away from her face as Eddie’s hands settle on her waist, and while her first instinct is to turn around and look at him, as soon as her eyes focus on the car in front of her, she can’t look away.

“I… Eddie…” she lets out a surprised laugh, “what is this?”

“It’s a car,” he answers with a chuckle. “A 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle, to be exact.”

“I know that,” Chrissy mumbles, pushing her elbow back against his ribs - not enough to hurt, but enough to show her annoyance at his snark.

“Okay, Miss Smarty-Pants,” he teases as he leans in to press another kiss to her cheek. Chrissy turns her head to catch his mouth, moaning ever so softly as he kisses her back.

“Whose car is it?” she asks when he pulls away.

“Yours.”

Chrissy’s jaw drops. Eddie slips out from behind her and walks back over to the car, his excitement growing more and more pronounced as he starts to ramble.

“I got a real good deal on it because it needs some work, but it runs and it’s a hell of a lot better than that hunk of junk you rode in on—”

Chrissy shakes her head a little; he’s never going to let her Gremlin go.

“—but since you’ve been saying you wanna learn more about cars, I thought why not get one that won’t fall apart and, y’know, it can be our weekend project, or whatever.”

“Eddie…”

He looks up at her, his smile faltering for the first time.

“Do… do you not like it?”

“No, it’s not—”

“Is it the color? We can totally change it, that’s not an issue—”

“Eddie,” Chrissy pleads as she rushes forward, throwing her arms around his neck and pushing up on her tiptoes to hold him tight. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lets out a relieved breath and wraps his arms around her in return, laughing when he speaks. “You do?”

“Yes,” she says as she rocks her feet back down to the garage floor. “You shouldn’t have, though. How much—”

Eddie cuts her off with a kiss, chuckling into her mouth when she tries to wriggle away.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“I told you, I got a good deal!”

She frowns at him, but it doesn’t last long when he presses his forehead against hers and nudges her nose with his own.

“I wanted to do this for you,” he murmurs. “I want you to have a car that’s yours. That’ll get you where you need to go if you ever…”

Chrissy’s breath stutters as Eddie’s grip on her waist suddenly tightens. He goes stiff against her for a few seconds before he forces himself to relax, and she quickly brings their lips together.

She knows what this is. He’s giving her an escape route. This is his way of saying if you ever feel like you need to leave, I want you to be able to. He loves her enough to know that she deserves to feel like she isn’t trapped.

“I love you,” she whispers breathlessly as she clings to him, pressing her body against his as much as she can; if she could wrap herself around him any more, she would.

“Love you,” he says, lightning-quick in return. “Love you so much, Chrissy I—”

“I know.” She runs her fingers through his hair and kisses him again. “Thank you.”

Eddie fully relaxes against her but neither of them pull away from the other. Chrissy tucks her face against his shoulder and he does the same into the crook of her neck, and they just stand there for a while in each other’s embrace.

She doesn’t want to leave - she can’t imagine ever wanting to run away from Eddie like she did before - but knowing she’ll have the means to do so with his blessing? That means more to her than words could ever say.