#and i was excited for it only because id hoped someone else could get excited about it too

[starsteemer]

Thinking I don't want to post art anymore

[revasserium]

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah ��� if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

[girlgenius1111]

I want to be here.

part 3!!!

no warnings... i don't think.

You sat on your couch, staring at your phone resting on the coffee table. It was opened to your messages with Ona. You had barely texted in 6 years, only sending happy birthday's back and forth. Today, though, sat a message sent from you.

-Are you okay? I hope nothing we did made you uncomfortable. Not that you had to stay. I just want to make sure that you're okay.

It was marked delivered. There was no response. You'd only sent it an hour ago, and it was possible Ona had just gone home to sleep. But you didn't know when she'd left, how she got home. You were worried. And, as much as you wished you weren't, you were hurt. You felt... icky. Used. You knew Ona, and you knew she wouldn't just fuck you to get back at you, or just for fun. There was a small part of you, however, that felt like it would have made sense for her to do either of those things.

It's not like she could really have still feelings for you, if she ever did. She was Ona. The human embodiment of sunshine. A laugh that brought a smile to anyone who heard it's face. She was perfect, or as close as a person could get. And you were just... you. Nothing special. Nothing compared to her.

You pulled yourself out of the familiar spiral when your phone buzzed. You felt nauseous as you picked your phone up, Ona's caller ID flashing across the screen. Hand shaking slightly, you answered.

"Hello?" You tried to keep your voice level.

"Hey, I'm fine, I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed to get my head on straight." She didn't sound okay, she sounded like she'd been crying.

"No, it's okay. I was just worried, wanted to make sure you were safe." There was so much more you wanted to say, but you stuck to simple sentences, simple statements.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just kind of freaked out. Not because I felt pressured or anything, I just... got scared." You were relieved at that but still, she sounded slightly choked, like every word to you was a challenge. You could hear the murmur of someone else's voice next to her, but you couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, you needed to get off the phone. You were convinced she regretted it, regretted you, and the rejection that hadn't actually happened yet felt suffocating. "It's fine. I get it. I messed things up, and I shouldn't have let it go this far. I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

You tried to hang up, feeling a lump in your throat as you spoke, but Ona's frantic voice stopped you.

"No! Y/n, no. Please don't run again. I know that's insanely hypocritical considering what I did this morning, but please. Can we please just talk?" She sounded panicked, and you felt too guilty to tell her no. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing tears out of them, wondering how she still had you wrapped around her finger, so many years later.

"Okay. Do you want me to come over?"

"Um. I'm actually at Alexia's. Don't be mad, I told her what happened, I just needed advice. Can I come to you?"

That shouldn't have surprised you. It made sense. Alexia was the biggest pusher of team cohesion. If people had a problem with each other, she made them work it out. She clearly had told Ona to talk to you, to tell you that it was a mistake in person, so there wasn't any tension.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you soon." You hung up before she could respond, leaning back against the couch, trying to pull yourself together. You wiped the tears off your face harder than necessary, and took a couple deep breaths.

Ona was going to come over, and tell you that you guys made a mistake. That was it. There was no other option. And you had to be fine with it, because this was your fault. If you'd handled the situation differently when you were 18, maybe things would be different, but they weren't. There was no conceivable way that Ona would want you.

You must have sat thinking longer than you thought because suddenly the doorbell rang, and you jumped to your feet, masochistically excited to see Ona even if you were sure she was about to break your heart.

----

The 2 of you sat on opposite sides of your couch, silently. She'd been crying, you could tell, and she was wearing clothes that were obviously Alexia's. You ignored how good she looked even in a t-shirt and sweatpants that were too big on her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few pieces falling free. You were about to speak, to tell her it was alright, you knew what she was here to say, but she beat you to it. Her words surprised you.

"I was hoping maybe you could tell me what happened on my 18th birthday. After I kissed you." Her eyes met yours, and her gaze was curious.

"What makes you think something happened?" You hated how defensive you sounded, but this wasn't where you thought the conversation was heading and you didn't think you wanted to talk about this.

"Well you took off, moved out of your parents house a couple weeks later, and pretty much stopped speaking to me. You wouldn't do that without a reason." Her voice was gentle, as if you were fragile and you were so, so confused. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

"You didn't try to talk to me either, Ona." You said it more bitterly than you intended, and suddenly realized that you were kind of angry. Not really with her, but with yourself. For not allowing yourself to lean on her when everything happened with your parents. You hadn't realized, until that moment, how much you had needed her.

"I'm not proud of that." Your eyes snapped up to hers. "I was hurt, when you ran, but I shouldn't have kissed you. You weren't ready, you weren't comfortable with it yet, it was obvious. I pushed you too far, and I assumed you wanted space, and I was hurt, and then. I don't know. It had been too long."

You were really confused now. Baffled. It sounded like she was telling you that she knew you hadn't left because you didn't want her, but because you weren't ready. This whole time, she had understood you better than you'd really understood yourself. You felt tears welling in your eyes again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep everything in.

Ona scooted closer. "Y/n. Can you tell me what happened when you got home that night?" She knew. Of course she did. She had known your parents well, and they weren't shy about their beliefs. And she'd know that something catastrophic must have happened for you to move out at 18.

You couldn't look at her, staring at the coffee table, watching it get blurrier and blurrier as tears continued to gather. Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you spoke, but it still managed to break on every other word. "I told them. They weren't happy. They told me to leave when I turned 18." You stuck to the facts, the bare minimum.

You felt her grab your hand, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'm so sorry for all of it. I shouldn't have kissed you, and I shouldn't have just let you pull yourself away. I knew you felt bad about what happened, and I felt bad about what happened, and I didn't know how to fix it. You needed me, and I wasn't there, and I'm so, so sorry y/n.

The tears were really flowing now. Because how was she sitting her, apologizing. To you. For something that was completely your fault. You looked at her then, your eyes meeting hers. They were filled with apologies, regret. She was crying again, and you couldn't help yourself but reach a hand up and gently wipe a tear away with your thumb.

"Oni, you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have left. I loved you and I should have been brave enough to tell you that. And I definitely should have been brave enough to try to fix it after. I was a fucking coward, and you deserved so much better than that, than me."

"No." Her voice was suddenly harsh, and you jumped a little, startled. She softened slightly. "No. You were terrified, I could see it on your face. Please don't talk about yourself like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I always knew you had a tougher time with being gay than I did. You needed more time, and there is nothing wrong with that."

She said it so definitively, like it was a fact, not just what she felt. It was... almost convincing. Taking a deep breath, you tried to let her off the hook, still convinced she didn't want you.

"Well. I'm still sorry. I know I ruined us." She shook her head at that.

"You said you loved me. Past tense." Your eyes dropped again, suddenly interested in the tattoo on her arm. She kept talking, undeterred. "I hope it's not past tense. Because I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I never stopped. Alexia told me I needed to get my head out of my ass and just tell you, because she says it's obvious that you love me too."

You looked back up at her in shock for a couple seconds. You sounded broken when you spoke again, lower lip trembling. "I don't understand." And you didn't. You were genuinely perplexed at the idea that Ona loved you.

She moved closer to you, taking your face in between her hands gently, forcing you to meet her eyes. You'd never had someone look at you that way before; like she was consumed with love for you.

"I love you. I want you. I didn't leave because I didn't want you, I left because I was I didn't know how to tell you. I just want to be here, y/n. With you. I want tell you that I love you, that you're a good person, and you deserve good things, until you believe it. If you love me, if you want me. I want to be here." She spoke slowly, making sure you heard every word.

You were still surprised. Still kind of confused. A part of you was starting to believe her though. Her words, the way she looked at you, the gentle feel of her hands cradling your face. It didn't leave much room for doubt. She stared at you, and you realized she was waiting for an answer. As if you would say no.

Surging forward, you pressed your lips against hers, kissing her firmly. You pulled back after a second, and you told her what you'd been dying to say since you were a kid.

"I love you, Ona. So much." You were sobbing at this point, and she sighed in relief at your words, pulling you back into her. You smooshed your face into her neck, holding her tightly. She held you just as tightly. You let yourself feel it all then, and you cried into her for a while. She didn't ever let go, running her hands through your hair and whispering reassurances into your ear.

When you were done crying, she was still there. Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of Alexia's sweatshirt. Ona was looking at you so tenderly, so gently. You leaned forward, pressing another kiss to her lips, just because you could. She smiled against you, pulling you to lay down on top of her. You rested your chin on her chest, looking up at her.

"God we're so stupid." She laughed at that, and the sound made you grin, a bigger smile than you'd felt yourself have in a while.

"The stupidest. If we'd just had one conversation, we could have figured this out years ago." She was smiling down at you, still lightly pushing your hair out of your face. "Thank god Alexia convinced me to come back over here. She was so sure you loved me back, she practically dragged me into the car."

"I wonder how she knew," you mused.

"She says you look at me the way Mapi looks at Ingrid, Marta at Caroline. I knew what she meant, but I never saw it. Not until now." You blushed, realizing that you were staring at her, enamored. "She also said Mapi said something to her about you having feelings for me. I think they've been conspiring together."

Your jaw dropped at that, and you were suddenly sure that they had been. "Oh they absolutely have. We should tell them we aren't getting together just to drive them insane."

"Yes, and we aren't speaking to each other. They'll lose their minds. But first, I have something I need to do." She sat you up, and you looked at her, confused.

"What do you ha-" She cut you off, pulling your face into hers in a decisively dirtier way than you'd been kissing. You met her with equal enthusiasm, wrapping your hands around her body, pulling her sit in your lap. Pulling back after a minute, gasping for air, you responded.

"You're right, I think we're busy for the rest of the morning"

"Maybe the rest of the day"

She pulled you back into her, and you kissed her hungrily, taking your time, because neither of you were running this time.

-----

Hope you enjoyed :) not sure if we've seen the last of these 2, but let me know if there's anything specific you want to see.

[pretty-blkgirl]

hi!! i read one of your fics and immediately came to do a request 🤣❤️. id love a angst to fluff with changbin! maybe he makes the wrong comment or forgets to pick up the reader or literally whatever lol. i just love angst and binnie

-🕷️anon (?)

Hi anon!!!! I was so excited when I seen this because it’s my first request 🥹. I LOVE angst too and while I was writing this, I realized 98% was angst and the fluff ain’t fluffing that much😂. Still, I hope you enjoy and don’t hesitate to request anything else ❤️🫶🏾

_____

Thin Ice

//gn!reader x idol!Changbin//

Synopsis: Changbin forgets about you….again

Genre: Angst/eventual fluff (kinda sorta)

Warnings: super angsty, sad…not enough fluff (lmao)

~~~|~~~

You walk into your dark apartment, rain dripping from your heavy clothes. It rained -hard- all day. Usually, you walk to and from work every day but this morning you asked your boyfriend to drive you.

He was ecstatic when you asked. He finally had a couple of days off and wanted to spend every waking moment with you. You and Changbin blasted his group’s music to your job, singing and laughing as rain pounded down on the car.

He swore he’d be outside your building 30 minutes before you even got off. The rain was starting to flood the streets a little, so he texted you every hour to check-in.

Two hours before you got off, he had stopped texting. You thought nothing of it, thinking he was probably napping. It wasn’t until 45 minutes before you were set to leave that you started to call him. He wasn’t answering, which worried you.

At the end of your shift, you left the building and were immediately met with the worsening weather.

The rain sounded like stomps when they met the ground. The bottom of your pants and your shoes would undoubtedly get immersed in water. Even with a jacket and umbrella, you knew you’d still be soaked.

After looking around for Changbin’s car, you conclude that he wasn’t there. No biggie, maybe traffic? Maybe he overslept a little- but was still on his way?

But what if something happened? He wasn’t answering you, and your stomach started to hurt while you thought of any and everything that could have happened.

You called Chan. You knew that if anyone knew where Changbin was, it was one of his members.

Chan’s phone rang for a while, making you even more anxious because he never took this long to answer.

Thankfully, he answered on the last ring.

“Hello?” He asked, voice laced with worry

“Hi Channie! I’m so sorry to call so randomly but I can’t get in touch with Bin. Please tell me you know where he is”

Chan says, “I talked to him a little while ago, he was at the studio last time I checked”

You were taken aback. The studio? Why was he there? He had time off, why was he working?

“You guys were at the studio?” You question

“No, he was at the studio. He said he needed to work on an idea before it escaped him.”

You sigh, knowing how Changbin gets when he’s at the studio. He can’t multitask, he probably couldn’t even hear his phone ringing while working.

You groan loudly, seeing the rain only get worse “Okay. Thanks anyways”

“No problem y/nnie. Are you okay though? Do you need me to do anything?”

You smile despite your current feelings. Chan always wanted to help out, and you would ask him to come get you if the weather wasn’t getting so bad.

“I’m fine, but could you call up to the company and get someone to check in on Bin?”

“Sure! Is that all you need though? Aren’t you off work now? Are you home? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe.” You say, not wanting to explain the situation. Chan seems satisfied with your answer and you two hang up just as a loud boom of thunder erupts in the darkening sky.

Your coworkers are all rushing to their cars to get home, You on the other hand go to your building’s lobby and sit down.

Hours go by and not a single call from Changbin. Chan did tell you a staff member looked in on him, and he was fine, just in his zone.

You didn’t want to be upset, but you were. When work was involved, nothing else around him mattered. You wanted to believe you didn’t take a backseat to his career, but this event had your mind racing.

This isn’t the first time he forgot about you when his job was involved. He had a habit of ignoring you during the little time you guys had together to work.

The studio was his place, and you knew that.

You loved how passionate he was about the things he liked- but you wanted him to be just as passionate about you and you guy’s relationship.

Changbin was far from being a bad boyfriend, he was an amazing partner, but things like this made you sick to your stomach.

Once the rain calmed down a little, you attempted to call a cab but the streets were a little too flooded. You had to walk home, getting completely drenched.

That brings you to the present, standing in your dark living room while listening to the sounds of the shower running.

He was home. He didn’t even call you to tell you he had gotten home safe.

You walk through the apartment until you reach your bedroom. There, you begin to strip out your wet clothes. You didn’t stop until you were down to your underwear. You took the clothes and placed them in your hamper while hearing the bathroom door open and footsteps near the bedroom.

Changbin entered the room and immediately froze. He looked over your body, still wet from your clothes. He looked at your face, and a scarily calm expression was staring back at him.

He immediately felt bad, rushing over and giving you the tightest hug. You couldn’t even hear the string of apologies leave his lips, it all sounded like a jumbled mess in your ears.

Fortunately, you didn’t want to hear it. You gently pushed him off you and walked out of the room, him following after you.

You walked into the still steamy bathroom and took your undergarments off, Changbin decided to sit on the sink and watch as you turned the water on and stepped into the shower.

Some more apologies, but you expertly ignored him. You spent 25 minutes in the shower, trying to calm your nerves. Changbin stayed the whole time, switching between begging for your forgiveness and going silent.

You could hear him sniffling, so you knew he was crying. You hated seeing him cry, but you were too upset to care at the moment.

Once out of the shower, he handed you a towel and you took it without any real acknowledgment.

He walked behind you into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, head down while you got dressed.

He was still sniffling, but you kept a poker face.

“Baby please talk to me” He begged for the nth time. No answer.

“I’m so sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t work during my break. Please forgive me, I swear this will never happen again”

You rolled your eyes at that one.

“Y/n PLEASE. I know I fucked up, but don’t ignore me, baby. I can’t stand it when you don’t talk to me. Yell or scream if you need to! Just don’t ignore me”

Again, no answer. You walked out of the room and to the kitchen, Changbin still hot on your tail.

He still had his robe on from when he got out of the shower, which made you chuckle a little. In the kitchen, you started to heat some leftovers as your boyfriend stares at you.

After a short while, you were ready to chew him out so you looked up, meeting his eyes.

“Go put some clothes on” You simply said, making him dash to the bedroom. It took him a couple of seconds to throw something on and rush back to the kitchen. By that time, the leftovers were ready and you were fixing two plates.

He watched quietly and muttered a “thank you” when you handed him a plate. You two walked wordlessly to the dining room. You took a seat and he sat across from you, still staring.

You began to eat, but he didn’t. He had lost his appetite. You met his gaze and mocked a confused look, “Not hungry? You must have eaten at the studio”

He sighed, ready to apologize again but you cut him off, “I’m hungry, that walk in the rain left me a little famished.”

“Baby please” He begs.

You giggle bitterly, still stabbing at the food on your plate, “You know, I love how hardworking you are. I love the way you love music. However, if your love for music overshadows your love for me- then this won’t work out”

You take a big bite from your food before setting your fork down. You take your time to chew, swallow, and wipe your mouth with a napkin.

“I’m sorry. You know how I get when I have an idea”

“That’s not a fucking excuse Changbin”

He jumps at your use of his name. You rarely call him by his name, always preferring a pet name.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone down there, I shouldn’t have forgotten about you”

“You always forget about me when music is involved. Which, I get that this is your career, but damn. I’m always taking a backseat to your career and I try to be understanding but THIS was my last fucking straw”

“Baby don’t say that, please. I swear I’ll do better”

“You said that when you forgot about my work dinner. You said that when you forgot about Valentine’s Day. You’ve said that after every single date night you forgot. I’m sick of this shit Changbin, seriously.”

You stand now, prompting him to do the same. Tears were once again running down his face and were threatening to start to roll down yours.

“I respect that this is your job. I knew what I was getting myself into when we got together. But I have given you a lot of grace, all I ask for is a little of your time. We finally have an extended amount of time together and you PROMISED you wouldn’t work. Not to mention, I didn’t even ask you to do that- YOU made that promise”

He sighs, head hanging in pure disappointment.

“Baby you’re right. I wronged you, and I keep wronging you. But I swear this will never happen again. Not ever. I will never hurt you like this again. I will never make you question our relationship again”

Your tears start to fall now, “I don’t know if I believe you Bin”

His heart sinks when he hears that, mentally kicking himself for making you feel this way.

“Y/N you’re the single best thing to ever happen to me. I love you so much that it’s not fathomable. You’re more important than anything and everything. I’ll give up this fucking career if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you.”

He gets down on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly. The look on his face made you want to instantly forgive him and forget everything, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.

This couldn’t happen again.

“One more chance baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me spend the rest of our lives making sure you know how much I love you.”

You look away, a quiet sob escaping before hesitantly nodding.

“I love you so much,” You say, “So I’ll give you one more chance. But this is your last chance. You’re on thin ice. Please don’t let anything like this happen again”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He says, standing and taking you into his arms.

[itsyagurlchip]

WAIT I SENT THE ASK TOO EARLYA AUWHAUDHDEKDVW

how is the original bone skeleton man doing?? OH OH AND is the setting the usual portal opening in the house and bam you've got new uncles or something else??? YAIOEPEPWLWKWPWBAOAV

buckle up, cuz this is super long yall 🥲

OKAY!!! THIS IS WHERE MY "INTERESTING" PART COMES IN 😁 monsters are just coming to the surface, and speciesism is as high as ever. after a year of this, queen toriel decides to open a human-monster program, something that also promotes her small school.

monsters adopt humans! ebbot was a bit iffy on it, but after realizing the benefits the mayor eventually agreed. (jk that nigga only wants the money 💀-) It was hard to get the program started, because many schools and orphanages werent as trusting, and the state wasn't fundinh it at all. So Toriel took a different approach.

Many monsters put their savings into it, considering their currency is literal fucking gold, and the program would allow each child to get $1000+ per month, depending on their age and needs. and yes giving kids thousands of dollars per year doesn't sound like a good idea, but shhhhh! the plot my dear!

The monsters who take care of them aren't allowed to use it themselves in selfish situations. Both the child and the guardian has rules.

one) you guys have to interact in some way. whether it be verbally, or even physically. two) NOTHING 18+, as all children being minors, that would be kinda weird. three) follow laws as follows- just dont be a shitty parent. four) the child has to want to participate as well, and cant do anything to hurt the guardian. including verbally (bc monster souls are made of feelings pretty much [thats another hc for another day])

id love to go deeper into the details, yet i however cannot bc i dont know how a parent-child program works.

and you have to be in the program for 1 month before you or the child wants to back out.

doesn't matter if its one-sided or not, when someone doesn't like it it immediately stops. id like to say that frisk and papyrus put most if their money into this, just so she can be adopted by toriel.

so when papyrus sees that gaster and sans have been stuck in the lab (not the basement!) for globs of hours at a time, sporadic sleeping, and overall exhaustion from work, he says the craziest shit

"SINCE YOU TWO ARE NERD BUMS, AND I CAN'T ALWAYS BE AT HOME FOR YOU TWO, I ADOPTED A HUMAN CHILD!!"

sans, in his sleep deprived state, promptly rose an eyebrow and fell out of his chair onto his side.

yea, its not that he didn't take the thing well, bro couldn't process it 💀💀

gaster just rolled his only visible eyelight and went back to work

....

well that worked well!!

reader arrived to the house the next day, and seeing that it was a two story house!?!?

AND there was an in-law suite? fuck yea! orphan kid made the jackpot 💥💥😼

they had fuckin steps too les goo!!

Your dark skin shined against the light of the sun, your brown eyes sparkling in excitement.

reader let go of papyrus's hand and ran inside immediately.

Careful as to not smudge your dirty shoes against the shiney floor, you looked around the house in amazement. This place had to have atleast 5 rooms!

and then the in law suite on the side looked like another 2 rooms!?? BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!

Not only did you have super nice guardians (you hoped), they were packed enough to keep you and themselves stabilized!! Hell, if theirs more people, they could support them aswell!!

Taking off your shoes, you looked around the living room. The long couch was green, albiet a bit patchy for a nice place, while the tan side couches could lean back!!

where those outlets on the sides? omg

"HAVING FUN DEAR HUMAN CHILD?" Papyrus smirked. He knew that the house of the Great Papyrus was enough to impress anyone, even of young ages.

"You guys are so rich!! wow- i mean, not that im tryna take your money or anything, but like- WOW!! Its so big!! Bigger than anything ive ever been to!" You were now flapping your hands and bouncing a bit. Your locs of hair bounced in it's pony tail no matter how small the fidget-hop was.

Behind the living room was a beautiful and lavish kitchen, and to the right there was the steps. To the right it looked like some like of master bedroom or guest bathroom.

But you didn't care about rooms right now, you wanted to see your other guardians!!

"Where are the other people im supposed to be meeting? Are you my only guardian or do they have to take care of me too? Are they mean? Are they bums? I hope they dont smoke or something, Do they have an addiction? What about-"

"THAT!, DEAR CHILD, IS GOING TO BE FOR INTRODUCTIONS!! DO NOT WORRY, WHILE THOSE TWO MAY BE GRUMPS, THEY ARE PLEASANT PEOPLE TO BE AROUND...EVEN IF THE LACK OF SLEEP TAKES THEIR PLEASANT PERSONALITY AWAY..." Papyrus concluded. You noticed that, despite the way he tried to talk to himself, you still heard it loud and clearly.

Maybe he had a hard time with volume control. meh.

Grabbing your hand and leading you towards the back door next to the kitchen, Papyrus opened the door. He had to lean down a bit in order to hold your hand, but he didn't mind.

The hallway was looooong. Instead of it being regular walls, it was glass windows of different colors. Which made you raise an eyebrow abit.

Seeing your reaction, the tall skeleton explained, "SINCE WE DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH SPACE FOR EXPERIMENTAL ACTIVITY, TOTALLY NOT BOMBS, MY BROTHER AND FATHER DECIDED TO LIVE IN THE SUITE!" He said, walking and talking.

You both reached the end of the hallway, hearing mumblings, ramblings, and overall terms that lowkey hurt your brain.

Getting too excited, you open the door to a glass-based lab. With the occasional plastic and metal equipment.

In the middle of the room there was an island counter filled was rainbow colored stuff ('gay as hell' , you sniggered), small green candies, and lots and lots if paper and pencils sharpened to the ends.

At one end of the room, there was a tall skeleton, a little shorter than Papyrus, who was more goop than skeleton. Infact, he looked like someone took a fire torch to his upper body, but you didn't say anything.

At the other end, there was a short skeleton, probably shorter than you (hah, being 5'0 did pay off), laying with his head on the desk, knocked out with blue slob. You marveled at the sight, wanting to know more about monsters at this revelation.

"FATHER! BROTHER! THIS IS THE CHILD I ADOPTED FOR ALL OF US!" Papyrus announced, grinning undauntedly. The smaller skeleton banged his head on the desk at the loud voice, while the other one barely flinched and turned slowly in irritation. "INTRODUCE YOURSELVES WHILE I MAKE LUNCH FOR THE GROWING FETUS!" He declared, marching out with a big smile.

If this plan went correctly, then his favorite family members would be mentally stable (as much as one could try- he thought to himself).

after banging his head on the damned table, sans sat up a bit disoriented.

why was there a human child in the house?

why was it in the lab?

"uhh kid, ur not supposed be here...uhh, its not safe and uh, you could die."

"WOW! Your so freakin cool! How do you talk without moving your face? Are you wearing a mask? I could die here! ooh shiney stuff, can i touch it?"

yea.. this kid has not had a proper friend in a minute

he was overwhelmed by the questions you asked at first, he didn't answer them at all in favor of watching gaster struggle to calm you down.

sans didn't mind how loud you were, it was moreso the curiosity that you brought along with you.

that wouldn't do.

"Hey! What's this?" the kid asked, walking towards the machine that could very much possibly cause the heat death of the universe, before getting snatched up by gaster.

"Enough! you are here to introduce yourself, and you will do as such" It was funny to see the man twitch like that. sans likes this kid already.

After knowing your name and age, sans was a bit surprised.

he honestly thought you were younger.

while introducing himself he tried to keep it simple and short. how old is he?

"how old am i old man?"

His blue slippers shifted from the movement of his ankle bones.

he thought you were just an average kid, but something about you was different.

oddly enough you always wore these earrings saying Y on the right and N on the left.

he wonder what it meant

Now its a week past since you came into the 'haunted house', aka the skele-dungeon

you two play pranks against gaster when he has free time. watching him bounce his leg in irritation every time he finds a lima bean in his notes is pure gold.

since you're virtual, due to your choice, he tries to take you places.

some of the most consistent ones are dance class every saturday and neighborhood walks you take by yourself.

I think of sans is the type of person to give less of a shit about his dad.

mostly because if the way he approaches things, iN tHE NaME oF sCIeNcE

it pisses him off everytime he tries to ask you for a blood sample

and it makes him even angrier when you say yes without a second thought.

but despite that, he cares about gaster.

but he wants to choke him out being his first son.

Despite being constantly sleep deprived, he makes time for this little new joy in his life.

Back then he's sleep at his desk, especially when his magic reserves were too low to shortcut.

But now, and you thought he didn't notice, you carry him to the living room of the main house and turn the tv volume down to 9 when you cant fall asleep.

another thing you both have in common

More often than not, you both find each other at the odd hours if the night.

since he can barely cook shit, it's mostly you making the midnight snacks

he appreciates the food you make for him, despite him initially coming to get a 10 1/2 ounce bag of chips

other times you guys will sit in the living room in silence

occasionally he'll find himself rambling to you about physics, specifically quantum, so he can keep his memory up.

sans likes the way you treat his brother.

as an uncle and not a childish cousin.

You may not be able to keep up with Papyrus's schedules and puzzles

but when you can, you two shine this wholesome light on the whole house that makes sans's soul ache lovingly.

Papyrus likes to take you out for walks more than him, or you'll both hang out in the backyard next to the glass hallway of the suite.

on his breaks, he'll find you two doing silly things

like rolling in the grass

or trying to carry each other.

without being able to admit it, sans and papyrus feel a new joy in their life.

and they got a cool kid to come with it :)

Gaster and sans were in the lab when his father said the most dumbest shit his nonexistent ears could ever listen to

gaster was never fully succumbed into the void, as sans had saved him before anything totally horrible happened.

hence his melted face and arms.

but he saw something, or rather somethings, that his meticulous little nerd brain has been hyperfiaxting on since the child came.

"Let's discover new universes!"

sans was just like 'naw, jit crazy'

so gaster fucks around with the machine for a while in secret while sans is frolicking with his newly adopted child.

ew, children.

but he guesses that she's okay, despite her adamant queries (hehe).

and soon enough, the machine made that man find out after he fucked around

Now that the machine stopped pouring in different variants of his children, this only made gaster more excited to use the machine.

sans on the other hand was fuckin freaking out.

the damn geezer did it

but not only that, there are aggressive ass versions of him who are willing to kill a child and that wont go.

sans is not gonna give on the things that bring him joy that easy.

*insert battle sequence*

ok so he got his ass whooped, no biggie.

and now his adopted child is befriending them. great.

annnddd now his brother is taking care of them. even better.

AANNNDD now his father is too interested in them to try and find a way to send them back. AMAZING!

bro wants to jump off a roof at this point

to be honest, he doesn't like the other versions of himself.

Theyre different possibilities of what could've happened currently and he already thinks about that enough.

but, reader likes them, so he gives them a pass.

but if they hurt her...or even worse, his brother...

he wont need the machine to figure out a way to take them out of this world.

KITTY!! THANK U SM!!! ✨❤️✨❤️✨🫣❤️🫣❤️ EKKK!! YOU GUYS BRING ME SUCH JOY 😋😋😋 YAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATTATATATA IM SO HAPPY!! YHSHABDGSIWKSBHSUWBWHAISNEGEYGSBAOWOAMQNWHUDBRYDUBJQIBSGATUWOWUEHRBXKMXBSYSJBSBZ-

i know the reader sounds super excited rn, which is sorta unexpected for an orphan centered fic, in the official thing you're gonna see a less than..nice attitude from them.

btw i wanna make a house plan to this can make more sense for your guys. ohhhhhhhh- IM TOO DAMN EXCITED 😋😋💕 i prolly gotta learn skeleton anatomy too-

@kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @amorvincitomnia-14 @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r. if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[multifandomgrabage]

Random and non cohesive HB thoughts, particularly season 2:

I don’t condone or support Stella’s actions, but I am very disappointed in how she is written. Im fine with her being a villain, and I’ll even let a lack of a backstory slide! My main issues with Stella are:

A) Being 1 dimensional. Please, give her traits outside of “bitch” and “angry at Stolas”. The majority of the fan base already is (somehow) in support of Stolitz, you don’t need another prop to keep your ship going. (subpoint to a): Also, not a fan of the “wife finds out that her husband is queer” trope, but whatever, she is a villain. Its pretty fucking basic though.

B) Her lines. My fucking gosh, her lines are so fucking flat and weightless. You’d think that something an abuser says would stick and sound intimidating, but no. We get “I LiKe ToRmEnTiNg YoU”. For fucks sake, what was that?! As someone who grew up with an abusive mother, I can confidently say that no one will say that. Its like they didnt respect their ADULT audience enough to figure things out and felt they had to have a giant ass neon sign screaming

“LOOK HERE, THIS IS ABUSIVE, SHE SAID SHE LIKES HURTING HIM! A-B-U-S-E! NOW GO AND FORGET ABOUT ANY TERRIBLY TOXIC THINGS STOLAS OR BLITZO HAVE DONE”

Clearly the show is meant for adult audiences. We don’t need to be told what is and isn’t abuse. Why not do a little something called “show vs tell”? Some alright examples they have previously done are the portraits usually having just Stolas and Octavia, or a pissed Stella. Or seeing how she threw a fucking imp butler across the room.

I got a bit off topic, but here are some ways id probably write her:

A narcissist. To the outside world, she is friendly Stella, who just likes to party and smile. She has a perfect family, and everyone loves her. But under the surface, in order to feel superior she puts Stolas down constantly, through verbal abuse and perhaps some physical. Her love for Octavia is conditional, she is only pleased as long as everyone is doing everything to her command. All this possibly stems from an inferiority complex that she desperately covers through a high ego, false confidence and making sure others feel lesser to her.

Some possible lines?:

“You are nothing without me. You think you can make it on your own without me? You cant even take care of Octavia, what makes you think you can handle yourself”

“You would choose a lowly imp over me? I guess I shouldn’t have expected more from someone as low as you”

“You don’t even deserve to have me, consider yourself lucky that I am willing to stay”

“You look so damn stupid like that, singing in your self pity. Had you stuck with me, you wouldn’t have been in that position.” That or someone else mentioned Blitzo and Stella being childhood friends, her being arranged with Stolas, and then having the cheating incident

whoever had that idea is a genius.

C: Why is her design so damn good? I love fancy pigeons and they made her a fancy pigeon. (this isn’t a complaint but a thought)

Moving on from Stella, lets get to S2 E2…

I was so excited to have an episode where it wasn’t the Stolitz shipping show. I got my hopes too high. The one positive thing Ill say is that I enjoyed the adoption flashback. Maybe I read too much into it but it feels kind of like a commentary in how shitty the adoption system is, especially to teenagers. Any kid really, as they’re treated like literal dogs, and then kicked out on the street.

Back to me complaining about shit:

For one, why did we spend so much fucking tome in that stupid ass sitcom? If Stolas is such a caring dad, shouldn’t he just leave and look for Octavia? So much character growth could have happened in that time.

I know that Loona didn’t just tell Octavia to just deal with her dad neglecting her just because “he’s trying”. Its HIS responsibility as a parent to take care of his kid, and Octavia has every right to be upset st him and her circumstances. Her parents have been unstable, but after a divorce, even more so. Her dad has straight up ignored her, in favor of arguing with Stella. She did nothing wrong and has nothing to apologize for. I got so excited when Stolas started to apologize, but then Octavia apologized.

Did I mention that there was 4 minutes of Octavia and Loona together at most? Despite the thumbnail? Yeah, that blowed.

Honestly the only reason I keep up anymore is because of the animation and the weak dying hope that it’ll get better.

thats all ig, please don’t be rude in the comments. You can disagree but keep it civil. Going to bed now, bye

EDIT: So Imma randomly add a brainbarf of thoughts here too, because I do not feel like organizing shit. My brain's thoughts just expand everywhere, so bare with me.

Another reason why Stella's abuse doesn't really land is because Stolas just... doesn't seem afraid of her at all? For someone who claims to love tormenting someone, she sure is doing a shitty job at it. The way that Stolas would just have the balls (or cloaca ig) to keep going out using Blitz, worry free despite his wife doesn't give the vibes of "Victim of Domestic violence, verbal and physical abuse" to me.

To continue on why her abuse doesn't land, it has to do with the nature of this show and how it portrays stuff. It gets very confusing. Loona assaulting Blitz, Blitz and Asmodeus (on separate occasions) touching Moxie's groin area (without consent) and Multiple characters using slurs against Moxie is supposedly "funny".

Personally I don't find it humorous, but I do get somewhat jaded and desensitized to stuff like that happening. Not to say that it's acceptable behavior, but you do kind of get used to it and take it a little less seriously in the context. In S1E2 Stella is seen screaming and throwing shit around. This *can* be seen as portrayal of abuse, but given that many characters do similar shit it can also be seen as another unfunny attempt at humor.

Fast forward to season 2, if you've lasted that long you should expect some edgy shit like that to be written in a way that tries to excuse it. But all of a sudden, we get "Actually, abuse is bad. Feel bad for Stolas because he is abused by his wife. Yeah, we constantly make our characters do abusive things too, but it's funny when they do it, just ignore it and feel bad for Sad Gay Owl Man."

What? The fuck? Is the deal with powers, especially human disguises? Initially I thought that maybe only Succubi and Incubi, as well has hellhounds had the power because some hellborns are more powerful than others. How would that work if Hellhounds are below Imps in the hierarchy though? By that logic, shouldn't Imps also get that power? So that idea doesn't work. I don't fucking know why or how any of this works. Theres no storybuilding or explanation for it. For something that appears so often, I think there should be. The purpose of a human disguise is to blend in among the human world, so I can see Succubi/Incubi having that power because I'd assume they're some of the only demons allowed to go to the human world. I wouldn't know why a hellhound would come to Earth, but I guess they just have the power too?

Speaking of rules about demons on Earth that weren't explained!

Stolas is able to summon himself in some big scary owl demon form without his book ANYWHERE near him in "Truth Seekers". Yet in S2E2 he can only conjure up a poorly designed human form because now his powers are attached to the book? HUH?! Where is the consistency?

Also, given that IMP is big enough to get a commercial, how have they not gotten in trouble for breaking what I assume is one of hell's only rules? We know that they aren't supposed to be there, and yet this seems to have no consequence? Having them have to try and fly below the radar in hell would raise stakes a lot more imo.

But whatever, fuck the rules, because there are none!

______________________________________________________

Unrelated rambles, but still kind of relevant and similar? I just don't want to make a separate post.

I don't like Andrealphus' design. It's way too bright and saturated and honestly has my eyes strain a lot, despite not being red. I kinda wanna redesign him. Also I feel like he's gonna be yet another gay stereotype, which is always fun to have /s.

Lucifer's design is underwhelming. Not necessarly because the design is bad on its own, but because of two things:

A) Too many characters look like that. We have too many skinny white Tumblr Sexyman Twinks. We have too many characters with that copy paste smile. Too many characters in suits. He just doesn't stand out. This leads me to my next point.

B) His design doesn't say "Lucifer, King and Ruler of Hell, Fallen Angel". It says "Generic Vivziepop Snarky Guy with a quirky interest". BEFORE SOME OF YALL START SAYING "B-but ackshually he pwobably haz a more dwemwonic fowm 🤓", respectfully, no. I feel that the leader of hell should have a default design that commands some kind of respect out of fear, it doesn't have to be crazy, but it should be intimidating, and stand out. What kind of king just blends into a crowd of his own people? Especially in a fantasy? This is fiction, and there is no reason to hold back and not try something new. In fact, 90% of the characters being skinny could actually be used as an advantage, because then you could just make Lucifer's bodyshape different from the default and he'd already stand out much more.

Fuck it, two redesigns coming up. When I'm done I'll link them here.

[anonsally]

Happy Birdday To Me!

For my birthday today, I took the day off work and spent over two hours birdwatching at a hotspot I had not been to before, though it's not that far away. Long report below!

(I hate driving on the freeway, particularly the one I would've had to take to get to Arrowhead Marsh. But I figured out that I could get there on public transit instead.)

Various rare bird sightings have occurred there in the past week, so I was hoping to see something new. In the end, I only saw one of the rarities, but I did see 7 birds I'd never seen before!

My dad joined me after about 45 minutes, but even before that, there were a number of Very Serious Birders with serious equipment. None of them had seen (today) the Nelson's sparrow or tufted duck that have been there the past few days (though according to the rare bird alerts, a few people had seen the sparrow in the morning), but they did help me with some IDs and point a few birds out and let me look through their spotting scopes!

Seven new species:

Common yellowthroat. This is probably the one I was most excited about, even though it isn't very unusual--but I had never seen it! and it's yellow!

Sora. Also very exciting with its pretty plumage and yellow beak! It was shy, but I got a good look at it a few times when it foraged at the edge of some reeds.

White-winged scoter. This was the only rare one that I saw, and it was pointed out by some of the Very Serious Birders, who let me look at it through their scope and regretted that they had not pointed it out to me while it was preening and showing its white wing patches. I could see a tiny white line on the wing, and the bill was very scoter-y, but it would look to a casual viewer like a pretty solid dark brown duck.

Blue-winged teals. Very beautiful bird. There were 3 of them--two males and a female--paddling around, and I could see a small light blue spot on the folded wing of one of the males. It's a large blue patch in flight, but not always visible when they're swimming.

Cinnamon teals. Another beautiful bird! We saw a pair.

Horned grebe. The horned and eared grebes are similar-looking and hard to distinguish, but in this case, I saw both (and was told both were there), so I managed to pick out the differences. (I had seen an eared grebe on the Elkhorn Slough boat tour, identified by someone else.)

Glaucous-winged gull. I would never have even tried to identify this one, but was told what it was.

I also "collected" a whole trifecta of teals, because someone also pointed out a green-winged teal (I'd seen one before). I was happy to see a pied-billed grebe (definitely the cutest of the grebes we get around here). On the walk from the bus stop I saw what I believe was a red-shouldered hawk perched on a utility pole. It had the orange barred front, but the back looked less black-and-white than brown-and-white. There were lots of scaups in the water, but I couldn't tell if they were greater or lesser; we also saw what was probably a greater yellowlegs, but of course could have been lesser. I saw some coots, common goldeneyes, black-necked stilts, snowy egrets, a great blue heron, loads of willets and marbled godwits, and a couple of black turnstones, but I'm sure there were lots of other ducks and shorebirds I didn't manage to identify.

All in all, it felt like a very successful birthday birding expedition, and it made me want to go back.

[fuckthisshitimin]

So... the silt verses happened, any thoughts?

Look look look. My cat is on my lap so I can't get too excited typing that answer lest I wake her.

SO.

Faulkner sooo doesn't appear to have changed that it disturbs me. He ordered Carpenter killed and declares sibling love to someone else - I am pissed off but I do hope we can see soon enough how this devours him. Look I don't want anything bad to happen to Carpenter but I'm on her side still.

She didn't run immediately.

This was. Like my thoughts exactly. "Oh wanna throw me to the wolves. Watch them eat me then." and then the will to live kicks in and FBDHFGSJDHHF

This BREAKS MY HEART. The way she knows that her dying might be the only thing to truly hurt him? That she despises what he did enough to consider it? That she ultimately can't let herself die? URGH

Also hate that despite all my anger towards Prophet-boy I still hope he obliterates the High Katabasians. You are not allowed to kill my boy that is Carpenter privilege and she will kill him with grief.

The new disciple doesn't strike me so much for now but I'm really curious and hope they stay alive a bit by Faulkner's side (and I wonder if they could trust each other and which one would break that trust and who it would hurt most but hey even if they're just fine doesn't mean Faulkner doesn't get to suffer because nothing can replace his sister just saying).

I'm thinking we don't have any specific character that's likely to be drafted - meaning they're all on the run, so I'm really wondering if we'll lose people to the front or not.

And. Carpenter calling the old woman who doesn't answer (sorry can't remember her name right now) - just looking for someplace to come home or to rest (like a grav- NO). I have feelings about that.

I have lighter, exhilarated feelings about the Trawler-man saving Carpenter and killing Fade. This two-faced God has a sense of tragic irony and I love that for him.

And. Hayward. Mostly curious about that - Carpenter has a burying job right now, but she desperately needs help.

So I'm thrilled. And excited, and scared. And I'd loooove to hear your thoughts too 🌊🌊🌊

Here:

[ID: A picture of a tabby cat napping on op's lap. Over her is sprawled a broken rosary. End ID.]

Thought my great grandmother's broken rosary was appropriate to The Silt Verses.

[I have to remember the goodbyes Paige shared with Faulkner and Carpenter they were real neat.]

[renarots]

🏎️💨 THE FORMULA 1 TAG GAME! 🏎️💨:

tagged by @solaireverie

thanks pookie <3

1. Who or what got you into F1?

i grew up in a pretty big nascar family, my family would put it on the tv instead of watching the kids and natural progression i fell in love with motorsports. i do think a combination of seeing the tooned cartoon and me being fascinated by the engineering in the cars dragged me fully into f1.

2. Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

for me it was fernando alonso and jenson button. although jenson is retired i still watch him in his other series like nascar. i still support fernando as well although i feel like it passed the torch on to lando when he was the reserve for mclaren and then later took the seat at mclaren. if you cant tell im a huge mclaren girl.

3. Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

lando norris and yuki tsunoda, cant pick one but yeah theyre my ultimate pookies 🫶

4. Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

my biggest driver pairing right now is lando and oscar, i think their pairing is what lando needed and what oscar needed and theyve already shown they push eachother so i cant wait for this season. my ultimate that i think about is fernando and mark tho, theyre my roman empire. from them always misisng eachother as teammates and then the infamous abu dhabi 2010. i could go on an essay about them (as a treat i also love nando and jenson)

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite driver?

no but i did get my friends and their cats into it. one of them is a ferrari fan and the other is a mclaren girl more leaning towards op81 but im gonna make her an ln4 girl soon. her cats are both mclaren cats but one only loves lando, she legit gets disinterested when someone else is on screen. one time she literally followed landos car off screen and my friend didnt even know that was lando so she was surprised her cat caught on to him.

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

i know i mentioned it before but abu dhabi 2010 is definitely one i watch a lot. 2020 austrian gp as well, even tho lando got the podium cause of disqualification it still holds a special place in my heart. Runner ups are silverstone 2023 and Abu Dhabi 2023 where pookies lead the race for a period of time.

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

singapore is lovely, silverstone because of this year with lando leading the gp just really put it up there, and i think interlagos always has me excited, even if mclaren has a bad track record with it (please get your shit together for quali guys)

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

ive never been to one theyre too expensive in america to go to one but i have been to a couple nascar races and those were so lovely. im hoping to take my friends and i to the suzuka gp next year tho (its so much cheaper please f1 sort your shitty pricing please)

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

no and id rather melt into the floor than meet one

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

i think the rb19 (rocky) has to be my fave rn if you asked me a year ago i would say otherwise but from an engineering standpoint rocky is the most beautiful piece of machinery ive laid my eyes on (excluding my beautiful b&m rollercoasters of course (my first love fr))

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

not really tbh

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

"i nearly said i wouldnt want to be married to him but obviously i- im happily married to a lady but" -mark webber (🫵🏳️‍🌈❓)

"who is the blind guy in the alpha tauri?" -fernando alonso (even tho it was against yuki it was so funny from this years radios)

"soy lago" -lando norris (i miss carlando guys)

"fernando is faster than you" -rob smedley

realised thats a lot of fernando related quotes but oh well 🤷‍♀️

🏷️ <3

@dumbf1sketches @formulafics @disneyprincemuke @lovewithmary @piasstrisblog @bekaillustrates @honeyhobbs and anyone who would like to participate

[enha-doodles]

Hi! I have seen your post where you need ideas for a yandere fan fiction. What about a stepbrother yandere where you bring your boyfriend home and they killed your boyfriend without you finding out about it.

SUNOO BIRTHDAY SPECIAL YANDERE ONESHOT :

HIM KILLING YOUR BOYFRIEND

⌦ Pairing : sunooxreader!

⌦ Genre : yandere

⌦ Warning : yandere behaviour , toxicity , killing , curse words

⌦ A/n : thank you for your request , I decided to make this a sunoo oneshot since it was his birthday <3 hope you like it ^^

⌦ Disclaimer : I don't support any yandere behaviours . This is all a work of fiction and my imagination . Credits of the GIFs to the owners . None of the members have the same personality or resonate the traits mentioned below .

You were a really bubbly person , just like your step brother sunoo . At first you hated the thought of your mom marrying someone else but then you agreed because you saw how happy she was . It was a win-win situation because you enjoyed sunoo's company . You were really lonely at times and you had no other choice then to study or watch some shows as your mother had office work and you were the only child . When you shifted at your step dad's house , you were introduced to sunoo who happily smiled at you and have you a tour to the house . When sunoo first saw you he felt something in his chest . Shrugging the feeling he acted as if nothing happened and continued to talk to you and offered you a tour to the house . He showed you the room that will now be yours and you were jumping up and down from happiness because it was your favourite colour and your mother had told you you could decorate it however you wanted . You already had ideas in your mind which excited you more . Sunoo couldn't help but chuckle at your adorable behaviour . He found you absolutely cute and it made him want to trap you in his arms forever . He was smiling looking at you taking out some decorations from your bag when he heard your phone ring . Peeking at the caller ID , his blood started boiling when he saw "love <3" on it . You had a boyfriend ? Wait but why is all this bothering sunoo ? All this shouldn't happen . He should be happy for you and all these feelings are wrong . Days started going , you introduced your boyfriend to your family . Everyone loved him and trusted him except one person . Sure you can guess who it is . Sunoo was annoyed everytime he came over and he would have to see you two cuddle in the living room while he sat at the corner . Days turned into months and sunoo couldn't take it anymore .

Fuck it , you will be his and no one can take you away . All he has to do is get rid of your stupid boyfriend , and you will have no one but him . He'll comfort you and make you believe that he is the only one you need . It was yet another day your boyfriend came over . You were making something in the kitchen . Sunoo was in his room and your boyfriend sat at the dining table scrolling in his phone . Sunoo came down silently signalling your boyfriend to follow him without letting you know . He brought him into his room and instantly stabbed him 5 times while covering his mouth " shut up you bastard , y/n cannot hear this screams . You took her away from me and now your facing the consequences . Goodbye , have fun in hell . Say hello to Satan from my side " with that your boyfriend fell limp on the ground . Sunoo was just so happy that this needle was finally out his way . He called one of his friends and told him to drop your boyfriend's body at his house . Before handing the body he took his phone and messages you that he was going home bcoz if down serious work . Slipping the phone in his pocket , sunoo's friend grinned at him "now we're the same buddy" sunoo laughed and bid him farewell . While downstairs you finished cooking a great meal for you , your boyfriend and sunoo . You walked out of the kitchen to find nobody there , just the television on . You called out his name but there was no response . Sunoo came down with headphones on his ear . "Sunoo-yah" he smiled at you taking the headphones off . "Yes y/n ? Is the food ready . I'm starving" "yes it's ready, but have you seen (your boyfriend) ?" Yup , just disposed his body , he thought "uhh no , I was just in my room and he didn't come there , call him and ask him" "oh right wait a minute , nvm he messaged me that he went home bcoz of some work . It's strange he never did this before" "then it might be really important , let's just eat" you were both going to the dining table when the news playing on the TV shocked you . It was your boyfriend laying dead in his house . Tears flowed out if your eyes while you kept repeating " no it's not true , he can't be dead " . Sunoo hugged your shaking form and was comforting you . You fell asleep after some time , with red puffy eyes and dried tears on your cheek . More months passed by and now you both were so close that you actually slept in the same bed sometimes , cuddling after watching a horror movie which scared the crap out of you . Sunoo was on cloud nine " just a few more weeks and then I'll ask you out , there's no way you'll say no and we can finally be together forever " his planned worked .

Taglist : @axartia @nikipedia07 @lovesickxmina

[dedalvs]

Thanks so much for answering my question. And I’m also loving the Valyrian glyphs too. I’ve always loved the idea of being able to write in High Valyrian as well as speak it.

I'm glad you like them! Let me tell you, I am soooooooo grateful to have been able to do this writing system. You know, way back when I started working on Dothraki—during the competition—in stray moments I thought about what I'd do with High Valyrian, since if Game of Thrones was successful, I figured I'd get the chance to create High Valyrian. It was so exciting to me to learn that High Valyrian had a writing system, since the books make it explicit that Dothraki doesn't have one. Writing systems are my favorite thing, and I wanted a chance to show it off.

When I got the chance to create High Valyrian, I shared with the show runners that I could create a writing system for it, since it was textually supported, but they declined. In future seasons, Valyrian was actually shown on screen, but it was always written in the Romanization, which I found unrealistic (or, rather, inauthentic). Every season I asked about it, but every season they declined. It's totally random, show to show or film to film when I get to do it. Some producers/show runners/directors see the utility of it; some can be convinced of it; some can't. And even if they see the utility of it, some let me do it, some don't (for example, in The Shannara Chronicles, there's some kind of writing system you see on screen in places, but I didn't get the chance to create it; the art department did [and it's terrible]). It's not a huge surprise I didn't get to do it for Game of Thrones. Frankly, it's enough they even wanted authentically created languages!

No, the surprise came when Ryan Condal, show runner for House of the Dragon, actually asked me to create a writing system. I didn't even know if I'd get to work on the show, because I'm usually contacted well before production starts, and the show was already announced before I was ever contacted. And then he asked me specifically if I could create a writing system for High Valyrian—and then they used it, on screen, in key places! This was an absolute shocker. It's not something that usually happens, and I am so grateful to him for that.

In truth, my plan was to create something after Game of Thrones was done, show it to George R. R. Martin himself, and hope he'd kind of put his canonical blessing on it, and make the writing system "official" that way, since it wouldn't be used on TV. And then this happened! It absolutely came out of left field—especially because it wasn't a part of me joining the show. I was asked to do this a few months after I started working on the show! I was already translating dialogue before he ever asked me.

There's an important take away here, by the way. In something like a TV show, there are tons of people that work on it, and there are people who are in charge, and people who are in charge of those people, etc. It's a hierarchy like anything else. But this applies to businesses and organizations of every stripe. Wonderful things can happen, and there are people who do wonderful things, but sometimes that wonderful thing only happens because someone in the chain says yes. I got to create writing systems for the Defiance languages because Kevin Murphy gave it the okay after I pitched him the idea. All of these shows I've worked on had to be greenlit by someone. All along the line, there's someone who has the power to say whether some project, or some aspect of a project is going to happen, or if it's not, and often that decision gets overlooked.

Even apart from recognizing that person, though, I want you to realize that there may come a time when you are that person. When someone comes to you with an idea that's wild or totally out of left field and potentially brilliant, and you are the one with the power to say whether it lives or dies. And this might not be in an official capacity. This may be a friend who has some idea that they're very hesitant about, and they reluctantly bring it to you, saying something like, "It's stupid… I don't even know why I'm showing this to you". And if you look at them and say, "I don't really get it... I don't think it's a good idea", that idea may die right there, never to resurface. But if you give them encouragement—even if you don't fully get it—you may be the one to help them create something truly magical—something the world has never seen—something that may mean a whole lot to people you may never meet. If you're ever in that position, remember this. When someone comes to you with an idea, they're giving you a lot of power. Wield it wisely; wield it with kindness.

[caluski]

ive made myself hot chocolate wine. hot wine chocolate maybe. its mostly hot chocolate and some wine... i only added a little because i havent made hot wine in a long time now, i was worried id evaporate the alcohol and make it gross. but it turned out fine and its good, maybe next time ill make some with spices. maybe replace oat milk with some other one... i think cashew might be good, maybe if i spot it on sale somewhere. with cinnamon maybe, with slices of orange? orange matches both chocolate and wine, why wouldn't it work with both at the same time. i wish i could spend an hour or so in the kitchen, making different infusions that i could try with someone else. its always so much more fun to try new things with another person.

i dont really mind drinking alone, since i already usually do it while watching something or writing. but i do really really miss drinking coffee or tea with other people. i miss talking to people so very very much. i talk so much.. if one somehow hasnt figured it out yet from the absolute fucking abundance of long posts on my blog, but i really do love talking. my big problem is that i talk so much, that my hot drinks cool down before i get to take a sip or two. im really horrible at keeping that balance between being caught up with the conversation and drinking. although i never really have much to say, i keep repeating the stories ive already told a million times before, and i say silly stuff, and i complain about a lot of things, and i get sidetracked constantly. not really in like, adorable or quirky way, i can imagine it must be annoying for the other people in the conversation, especially when i get too excited and interrupt people and dont listen very well. i think its one of those things i wanna improve about myself.

yesterday, as i was walking home through the centre of the city, i was horribly in need of coffee, it was so cold and i was in a good mood, and i only had weak green tea that morning, and since it was still pretty early in the day, the cafes had some free spots. but i walked in, looked around, and walked out. its like everything reminds me of loneliness these days, and when i got inside, tables were all taken by couples or groups. i dont think it was a sign of anything, but it made me so awfully bitter. i know loneliness doesnt make me special, i know literally everyone experiences it to some degree, but god, it really hurts to look around and see that despite everything, people always have someone out there. a best friend, a significant other, family member, whatever.

theres that stupid thing everyone always repeats, "theres always someone out there who loves you, even if you dont know about it". i used to hold onto that desperately, but its so dumb. unrealistic and dumb. it makes you hope that maybe right now youre alone, but once you'll be at your rock bottom, SOMEONE will magically show up and say, i care for you, and i will be by your side to support you, or whatever. but then you hit the rock bottom and theres nothing, or better yet, someone you had hoped would stay with you suddenly says "i have anxiety and seasonal affective disorder, i cant be around you or ill get worse, too", and you dont want them to get worse because of you, of course you dont. theyre being reasonable, and you know that, and you cant do anything about it. even if you do guilt-trip them into staying, would that even really help, if they resented you for it secretly for the rest of their life.

a week ago or so ive walked into a cafe, as well, but i got so overwhelmed that i had to pretend to look around which tables are free, and left right away. just brought in mud and puddles, probably, since it was such a snowy day. i worry that one day ill be better, but i wont be able to step foot inside a cafe anymore, because it will remind me of nothing but the days when it was just me and self-loathing. not that i can really afford cafes anymore, but i cant think about that now. or worse, that ill never get better, and ill never get to experience it again, the presence of another person by my side, having coffee or tea or desserts, and talking and laughing and maybe even flirting. that thought makes me nauseous, but i know its likely. it kind of sounds like not much to wish for, but it feels almost too perfect to ever be possible - not only to have money for that in the first place, but also a person who cares for you enough to want to be around you, to want to talk to you or listen to you, a person who wont tell you "we can go out, but i have only an hour" and then leave after 20 minutes because it turns out in that hour was included their ride back home.

i keep thinking, one day ill find someone, one day i wont be lonely anymore and then ill let it all out of my system. but i know its silly, because by the time ill find someone, ill forget how to really be a person, how to have a conversation. i talk to myself a lot, in my head, but its not enough, it doesnt really feel like anything. i write a diary, i write short stories, i write posts on this stupid blog, but nothing feels like talking to another person, and its awful. my memory is far worse, i stutter more and more with each passing year, im being more and more awkward in such an uncomfortable and humiliating way, that it only makes my brain scream at me to shut up forever. i know why my family doesnt want to talk to me, im more unpleasant than ive ever been. i know its unfair to be blaming them for not wanting me around; they stopped asking about anything, recently, because i cant stop crying whenever they start the topic of job search. i cry too much these days. i had to stop showing up to my favorite grocery store, because theyve seen me too many times all wet-eyed. and i cant help it anymore! i know im still human, i know im not a victim, i know my suffering isnt greater than anyone else's. but something has changed and i cant imagine getting better, anymore. or at least going back to who i used to be. theres no hope anymore! and if theres no hope for me anymore, what do i do? "just surviving" isnt neutral, its horrible, its painful, its a nightmare. i dont want my life to look like this. i dont know what to do anymore. and ive said it a thousand times, i know, but its the only thing i have floating around in my useless empty head. i miss hope. i miss believing that i could still be happy, one day. and i know that was stupid, too, i can see it now, but at least it was something to hold onto.

i miss being around people. i miss it so much. i miss talking to people so horribly. i miss laughing and i miss being held. i dont need all this cortisol. i dont want to forget what it feels like to not be alone. but the more i want it, the more out of reach everything feels, the more unrealistic even the simplest things seem. i might as well be dreaming of living in alternate universe fanfiction.

[dykeyangel]

Do you think Colin is gonna be outed or come out? Personally, I hope he comes out because so much of queer media has a character be outed and id love a character to come out on their own.

I honestly have no idea anymore. At first I was so sure he was going to be outed by Zava, Shandy, Rupert, or someone else but now that we're getting closer to finding out, I could see it going both ways. I could see him being outed by Rupert as a way to create drama for the team, I could see him just getting caught kissing Michael by just the general public and people finding out that way, but I could also see him come out on his own terms to the team if not the public. Like hell I'm not even 100% sure that he is going to come out anymore, there's just so many ways this could go and I'm excited to see it play out.

I will say though, while I understand why people don't want him to get outed, I'm not opposed to that story. I like a bit of struggle and angst and I think Colin having to deal with being outed could be a really interesting and powerful arc if done correctly, which outing arcs typically aren't. It would be really heartbreaking but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be a good story or less important to see. I think in particular what I would be most interested to see is Colin only being threatened with being outed, just seeing the way he and the team deal with that and maybe after that being solved, Colin choosing the come out on his own terms. It's also possible that he'll only be outed to the team and the coaches first then decide to come out to the public. The way that I've seen the story line described by people who have seen the episodes is Colin deals the struggles of coming out to press let alone his teammates, so I also think there's a strong possibility that he doesn't get publicly outed at all.

[capt-spooki3]

A Musical Confession

Chapter One: Lovers Rock

Characters: Eddie Munson and Gn!Reader

Warnings: cursing, id call this slow burn(ish), nothin else its just sweet

After attending enough of his shows at The Hideout, Eddie finally decided to approach you and with an offer...

5.2k words

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Only because i, personally, am terrible about remembering this:

Gn reader = Gender Neutral reader

Y/LN = Your Last Name(i write it weird so just in case it trips anyone up <3)

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"Alright, so this one is a bit different than our usual uh.." Eddie trailed off, giving his drummer a quick glance and a cocky smile before looking back at the few pairs of eyes watching him. "Style. But we wanted to give it a try. We're calling it, Lovers Rock."

You watched from a booth in the corner, near a window where you could watch the band but keep your space from the drunks since you were alone. You had first taken an interest in Eddie at school where you talked with his friends on occasion, but after learning of their band and where they played, you took a new interest in him at The Hideout every Tuesday that they were scheduled to play. You haven't missed a show yet. Having grown up on rock, their covers and original songs were right up your alley and it always felt nostalgic hearing the songs.

The two of you had talked some, briefly, and not a whole lot was exchanged, but you two certainly had been introduced to one another though that was about it. Not that you didn’t want to get to know him as well as you knew his friends, he was simply… a bit intimidating.

Unlike you, Eddie decided a while ago to wait on you until you were comfortable enough to talk to him. He really wanted to talk to you but felt better if it was on your terms as he was well aware of how people saw him. Though, with your more grunge way of dressing and the fact that you talk to his friends so easily and freely gave him hope that you’d come around.

That didn’t stop him from wondering about you. What you were like, how you talked, your little habits if he made you nervous. But he waited. Until now. Even if his message to you was subtle.

From the stage, things grew alive as they started to play. People perked up as they realized how different this song was starting. Eddie's eyes wandered the crowd but per usual, they found you. He held your gaze as he sang the lines.

"Are you sick of me? Would you like to be?" He raised his brows a bit at the question, almost trying to tell you it was for you. He was a bold man, as everyone knew, but you were far from stupid enough to believe he would write a song to make a confession. 

“I’m tryna tell you something. Something that I've already said.” Breaking the eye contact as he continued, unfazed by his own actions. Looking like he was on autopilot but oh, was he aware of what he was doing and quite excited to be executing it.

"You like a pretty boy." A smile couldn't help but pull at his lips. He tried to fight it but especially as he looked at you again, and tried real hard to drop the hints, he felt a little bubble of laughter in his throat at the lyrics which were aimed at himself. All he could do was hope you would realize it. "With a pretty voice."

You furrowed your brows at that. Watching him close now, the tapping of his foot to the beat, the way he strummed and fingered the strings, the way his body swayed just a little as he played and he nodded his head, how a little smile broke when singing certain lyrics, his eyes which floated over the crowd or kept closed unless he was looking your way, the only time he looked like he was really looking at someone. There was a purpose there, you were sure of that.

“But if you’re too drunk to drive and the music is right, she might let you stay. but just for the night.”

He tried hard to keep from looking your way, almost wanting to avoid looking in your direction at all. In case you didn't like it or secretly did see him as weird and a freak like the vast majority. It felt like a magnetic pull to you though. When mention of being together or of a kiss, he just had to check. Had to make sure you were still looking, still interested, still, hopefully, understanding.

“Because love, can burn like a cigarette… and leave you alone with nothing.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he was singing about a memory. A situation he has already been in before that he thought about, unable to get out of his mind for so long that he had to use his creative liberties to help get it off his mind. He probably just enjoyed his creation so much that even as on the nose as it was, he just had to perform it. All that threw you off was his looks at you.

If this was about some lover of his, why was he looking at you the way he was and at the times he was. Looking at you in just the right way to put your heart in your stomach and butterflies so heavy you swear they are going to choke you.

He sang the softness of the lyrics so perfectly like he wasn’t playing Metallica right before this. It tugged at your heartstrings a bit at how much of himself he was practically putting out there with this song, that someone had this much of an effect on him and was on his mind that much. A little part of your mind was longing for it to be you and wishing he was singing about a hopeful scenario with you. The more logical part of yourself hushed the wish, you hardly even knew him and he didn’t know you so in what world would he ever be singing to you, you told yourself over and over.

A sliver of hope couldn't help but remain.

The song came to a slow ending with merged voices singing soft ‘do do do’s behind his round-up of the chorus about cigarettes. The 8 drunks and two tables of people clapped and a few cheered. You joined in, watching as he made a dramatic bow with his arms outstretched and a content look plastered to his face as he scanned the people. A bit of hesitation was there until he got to your spot as if he was checking to see if you stuck around which in turn just made you clap and cheer a little bit louder.

Eddie laughed to himself, flipping his guitar around behind his back. He tentatively worked on putting his guitar pick back on his necklace as Jeff leaned in to tell him they were all going to head to the back room and order food.

“Alright, I’ll be there in just a minute. Take her for me will you?” He asked, already taking his guitar off and handing her over.

You couldn’t help but watch him. As he seemed to get his pick back on his chain, he got off stage and headed your way instead of walking out of sight with his friends. Not wanting to get your hopes up in case he was going to walk to some other table, you looked down to your table before distracting yourself by stirring the ice around your drink.

“You really are persistent with not missing a show, huh?” Eddie said, plopping down in the booth in front of you. Your head popped up and you must have looked pretty surprised as he smiled and let out a little laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no you’re fine.” Your nerves couldn’t help but rack up, making it hard to keep your eyes anywhere near him. “Why uh, why are you over here Munson?”

“Ouch, Y/LN, don’t like me that much!?” He leaned forward, hand over his heart and he tried his best to act hurt.

“Well hold on now! You know I didn’t mean that-” You leaned toward him, not being able to help a smile as he furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes at you. “I think you’re lovely, but you never wander over to people after your shows, unless I was just never around for that era, but… whatcha doin’ man?”

Eddie leaned back, holding a small smile as he just stared you down for a moment in silence, making you nervous and a bit flustered as you stubbornly tried to hold eye contact but continued to look away.

“Well… you know how all my friends do our DnD things, yeah? And I know you like them so I was just wondering, would you like to come sit in a session with us?” You just kinda stared at him for a moment in surprise and awe and he decided to busy himself by digging his rings out of his pocket. “I mean you… you can just say no. Just figured maybe that way you can hang with the guys and maybe see that I'm not as big and scary as you might think.”

You leaned back against the booth, crossing your arms as you hummed, watching him as he slowly put his rings back on and tentatively watching you, awaiting an answer.

“When is your next session?”

-

“And now focusing back on the four of you, as you all walk through the doorway, Dustin you smell,” Eddie stops to smell the air around him and wrinkles his nose in disgust, “Something rather familiar to you.”

“Do I recognize it?” Dustin asks in a whisper, leaning over as he was deep into the game along with the rest of the party. His character has had a lot of familiar encounters this campaign so it was a safe assumption it would happen again.

“Roll a perception check.” Eddie nods his head toward him.

“Uh.. 16.”

“You sniff the air… and it takes you a moment to be able to place your finger on it, but boom,” Eddie snaps and pauses for a second, all eyes on him. “The sickening smell of leather and fire leaves you nauseous.”

“No… nO WAY, YOU’VE GOTTA BE-” Dustin slaps his hands over his mouth as he acts out his fear and anguish.

While the rest of the party is focused away and trying to figure out the situation, Eddie looks over to you sitting beside him.

After asking three separate times if you were sure about not wanting to join in on this campaign, he allowed you a seat beside him where you could watch his DMing behind his dungeon master's screen that he made just for this campaign. It was actually quite fun to watch the little things he was doing that the party couldn’t see. Being the second session you’ve sat in on, previously you watched from the other side of the table, but being here is an entirely different experience.

He leaned over to you and you leaned toward him as he often had fun little things to whisper to you.

“Now watch this.” He stood up suddenly, slamming his hands down on the table making everyone whip their heads back toward him. “While you four were too busy talking, you all failed to notice a presence approaching, slow and steady. A wooden staff pounds down on the ground and in a deep, gravelly voice a man who is still hidden from the light of the single torch illuminating the room says… ‘Oh, how have you aged son.’.... and unfortunately that is all for today!!”

A chorus of groans and a couple of curses strung his way filled the room as he just laughed, putting his hands on his hips and gazing out on them all.

“I’m sorry, but a little birdie,” A sideways glance was cast to you, “Has informed me that it’s gonna start pouring real soon and the majority of you guys have to bike home… So shoo shoo! Pack your things up and get goin’.” Eddie plopped back down on his throne and watched them all scramble around to get home. Since it was Gareth’s home, he just grabbed his things and said his goodbyes before walking inside from the garage. 

“Since I’m giving you a ride home, will you help me clean up?” You met Eddie’s awaiting eyes and he gave you a little smug smile. “DMS duties.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Yeah, of course.”

Saying goodbye to the rest of the gang as they left, you watched them bike off down the street from the garage with a half-full plastic bag in hand. You halfway tuned out the rustling of things from farther into the garage, too busy sending them silent wishes that they beat the rain.

“God, you’re just like a worried mom.” Eddie's voice broke your concentration which only got an eye roll and a displeased look from you. “Kinda look like one too.”

You grabbed into your bag and threatened to throw a can at him to which he started laughing, holding his hands up to diffuse the situation as he took a few steps away even though he was already on the other side of the table.

“You are just full of it today, huh? I might as well just walk myself all the way home, probably would be safer.”

“Nooo, Y/LN, now just calm down, let's not be rash!” He pleaded in feigned dramatics that you couldn’t help but smile at.

“It’s too late Munson! I just can't stand you a moment longer!!” You raised a hand up to cover his face from sight as you turned your head away. 

You started to walk out of the garage, making your way over to the trash can outside to drop your bag into, hearing Eddie come after you.

“Just hear me out, I beg!” He pleaded, swerving around in front of you, mostly to drop his trash in the bin as well, but also to put his hands together in a prayer, giving you puppy dog eyes and everything.

After giving him a little ‘hmph!’ you turned away though the image of his face was already ingrained in your mind. You were committed to this little bit and did actually start your way down the driveway and toward the sidewalk so you could trek home even as much as you didn’t really want to leave. 

As you swung your hand back in your rhythm of walking, it was grabbed and you jolted to a stop and turned around just to get pulled into Eddie. He obviously didn’t think you’d be that off balance and he stumbled a little but kept steady, keeping a firm hold on your shoulder and hand. You looked up at him to find him already looking at you. Heat rose up your neck and you knew it had to be already flushing your cheeks just from that moment of eye contact with his pretty brown doe eyes. Pulling away from him before he could see your face as you fought a smile, you looked toward the ground and expected him to have let go of your hand but you were stopped once again by an unmoving force keeping a hold of your wrist.

He waited until you looked at him to take a tentative step forward. Not too close. But yet, not too far away. He leaned toward you just a little, pink dusting his cheeks as he looked at you.

“Stay… please?” Eddie whispered a soft plea in a tone you had never heard from him before. It nearly took your breath away in surprise, your cheeks feeling on fire but you just couldn’t look away from him. You also couldn’t muster up a word and just stood there with your mouth slightly agape. He grinned at you and was slow to let your hand go.

“I’ll take that as a yes, hope I’m not too bold with my assumption there.” He said, voice still soft but no longer a whisper. His eyes broke from yours only when he slightly recoiled from a raindrop landing on his face. You both took notice of the rain now. It was light, but quickly the rain was getting heavier. Eddie laughed with glee, looking up into the storm.

The sound of the garage door shutting made Eddie look back and even though he had things still in there, he shrugged and turned his attention back to you in the rain with a big smile.

 “Wanna know something I’ve always wanted to do with someone?”

“What’s that Munson?”

He put his hand out to you, keeping his dramatic facade as he held one behind his back and he had to speak a bit louder so you could hear him over the now pouring rain. “Dance with me, Y/N!”

The use of your first name brought those suffocating butterflies back. You couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment as he waited with way too much happiness for you to ever tell him no. Would saying no be the smarter choice for your heart and mind? Absolutely. But with the only risk of falling in love with him, it couldn't make it all that bad of a decision.

“Fuck it.” You grabbed his hand and he laughed, pulling you into him with his drenched clothes making yours even worse. He grabbed your other hand and led you in a dance that had no rhythm, no pattern, nothing more than whatever soundtrack played in your own minds. The rain lightened as you two danced around the driveway but unlike the rain, you had no intention of stopping yet.

Letting go of one of your hands, he took a step away and pulled you in against his chest, he held you much longer than you would in a dance set to any pace. He put his hand on the other side of your waist, looking at you from the side until you looked back, waiting for him to twirl you out. 

Without warning, he tickled your side, and just as you were distracted with giggling he chose to twirl you, and even give you a little spin once you were all the way out, before he met back up with you face to face and took your hand again.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you took the ‘lead’ and did a little pushing your hands back and forth kinda dance with your feet following the rhythm. He got into it quickly and watched you to make sure he wouldn’t miss a move as you went to the song in your mind. As you started to sway back and forth, he matched it, and eventually, it just devolved into you both replicating several popular dance moves, one after another. 

The rain had lifted to sprinkles now and in your drenched state, you managed to trip over your own feet. Eddie moved to catch you just as you caught yourself but looked up at him in a bit of surprise at how quickly he reacted. He laughed a little bit and stepped back to give you space but equally held his hand out to you.

“Wanna go get food?” You took a second to take him in, he had on his leather jacket over the hellfire t-shirt both of which were dripping wet. His hair was a mess from the water and especially from the dancing around, some stray pieces were plastered to his cheeks and his bangs to his forehead. He was glowing though, he looked alive and full of bliss at the moment.

A smile crept its way onto your lips as you grabbed his hand once again, leaning back as you relied on his strength and sucked your teeth.

“I hope you know I didn’t bring my wallet.”

“That's perfectly fine, I planned on paying anyway.” He said as he started to lead you to his van but you were quick to stop him this time.

“Oh wait, Eddie,” He was quick to look at you. You didn't often use his name when talking to or even referring to him so it must have caught him off guard. “We both are uh… drenched. I don’t wanna get your seats wet.”

“Oh, you genius little bird, you. I actually have towels in the back! I almost forgot.” Letting go of your hand, he jogged to the back of the van and you followed. “I keep ‘em for 'just in case' moments and finally, they have made themselves useful.”

Eddie opened the back door and crawled in a bit before coming back out and handing you a black towel as he had one to match, quick to use it to wipe the drops of water on his face and work on getting his hair a little dry.

“Just throw that sucker on your seat and it’ll be fine. If it seeps through that, she’ll dry just fine I’m sure.” He said, voice a little muffled as he was busy scrunching his hair.

You watched him as he did so, in his own little bubble as he cared for his hair. It was the first time seeing him care about his appearance, you were right to assume he did as his type of hair had to be cared for to look as nice as he did. The fact that it was an obvious priority for him at the moment was just such a sight to see for some reason.

Being halfway bent over, he took notice of the lack of moment from you and leaned over more to look at you from behind just for you to notice him and meet his eyes. The urge to laugh hit you both at the same time, you slapped your hand over your mouth and he held his lips together tightly to hold it in though his smile was making it hard.

“Y/LN…” Eddie drew out your name with a smile, standing up straight slowly and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to not burst out laughing from the embarrassment of knowing he knew you were watching.

“Mhm?” You were hardly able to get out, barely bringing your hand away from your mouth with a dangerously big smile.

“If you’re gonna watch, at least start drying yourself off or something. Weren’t you the one super worried about my seats?” He leaned toward you to further his teasing and you rolled your eyes, looking away only to glance back at him as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion of you.

“Alright! Alright, my bad!” You put your arms up in defeat as you walked around the other side of the van and heard him laugh from the back. 

You opened up the passenger door but stood next to it, messily drying your hair to get it at least not dripping. You managed to waste enough time that your clothes, while still soaked, weren’t dripping anymore so you toweled your clothes off before Eddie appeared on the other side, opening his door. 

“So…” You started to get his attention which wasn’t too hard. He draped his towel over his head and leaned on his seat with his head resting in his hands as he waited for you to talk. “Where are you thinking of eating, Munson? I don’t actually know what you like.”

“Easy, you know that little diner a few blocks from here?”

“Benny’s? The one that's known for its shakes more than its burgers?”

“Bingo,” He giggled a little as he sat up and took his towel off to put it over the plush seat. “Favorite place in Hawkins right there, I always thought I didn't like Suzie Q’s but Benny’s gave me a solid change of heart.”

He kept rambling about each item on the menu as you copied him with your towel and got in, to which he did the same. The air was on full blast of cold air as it was hot earlier today but just left you two freezing now. He turned it off even though he hardly looked like he was paying attention to anything else. As he started driving, the ramble about food turned into a story about Benny’s which had you both in hysterics.

The usual 8-minute drive felt like a few moments. Despite his demeanor and his horrible reputation, despite doing nothing to earn it, Eddie was so easy to talk to. He matched energies so well and kept a good-paced conversation, talking as much as you’ll let him but at the same time listening to whatever you have to say for as long as you want to say it.

Pulling into Benny’s, there were a couple of other cars there but it looked like a rather slow evening. You moved to get out, but he was quick to stop you.

“Hey hey, wait a second.”

“O… Okay?” In pure confusion, you just watched him as he hopped out of the car, following him with your eyes as he passed the front of the van just to get to your door and open it with a slow dramatic wave of his hand to usher you out. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“It’s just part of my charm.” He said with pride, taking your hand as you got out and shutting the door behind you just to do the same gesture, not as extra this time, before you could walk into the diner.

Together, you sat in a booth in the corner of the diner, there was one couple from school and a couple of older folks catching up with one another. You decide what you want and make sure to add a shake to your order and Eddie goes to put it in for you. As you sit there looking at him, you just can't help but notice how much of a mess his hair is from the rain. He did well in drying it off but it was just incredibly poofy as it was drying and it was getting in the way as he kept pushing it away while waiting to get change back.

You look down at your wrist to check and to your luck, you still had a big green scrunchie from one of the cheerleaders you were friends with. She didn’t talk to you anymore so it wasn’t like she was ever going to ask for it back.

Eddie headed back over, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he gave a sideways glance to the couple that gave him nasty looks then whispered and laughed to themselves.

“Munson.” You grabbed his attention and before he got to the booth, you scooted out of your side and pointed at your spot. “Sit.”

“For… what? If you wanted the corner seat, you could've just told me.” He muttered with a laugh as he sat.

“No no, well, if you’re okay with it,” You pulled the scrunchie away from your wrist to show him. “I wanted to put your hair up for you.”

“Oh geez, alright.” He was quick to comply and turned around so he was facing the window and had his back to you.

You approached him but put your hands on his shoulders to let him know how close you were. Taking one hand away, you pushed all of the hair off of one of his shoulders then did the same to the other side with your other hand. You made sure to be super gentle when messing with his hair in case he was tender-headed and gathered the length of it in one hand. His hair was incredibly soft and with how poofy it was right now, it was plush in an odd way.

Loosely tieing the majority back, you leaned over to separate some that evened out with his bangs, but mostly just because you thought it would look cute.

“I’ll fix those in just a second.” This elicited a sweet chuckle from him.

Taking your time to make sure everything looked nice and even, you tied his hair up and tightened it as gently as you could.

“Alright, face me now please.”And god, you could look at him forever if he would let you. With the mix of the evening sunlight and the softness in his face as he looked at you, he looked ethereal. You couldn't help a smile as you slowly shook your head and he matched your smile but gave you a confused little head tilt to which you shook your head to dismiss his curiosity

You grabbed his cheeks to keep his face still and fully facing you just as an older lady came over and sat down the ordered food on the table for you both. 

“Here you kids are, enjoy.” She said with a little wink.

“Ooh, I already am.” You whipped your head back to him before you could thank her which just caused the two of you to get the giggles. You patted his cheek a few times to try and get him to sit up straight.

“Okay, okay, shut up, lemme do this so we can eat.” He obeyed and sat still as you fixed his hair to make him look pretty as he just watched you with a soft, dopey smile. Just as you were checking everything to make sure it was even and looked good, Eddie reached up and straightened out a bit of your air and tuck some behind your ear before speaking in that soft tone again.

“I’m sure I look fine, Y/LN, sit down. You’re worrying your pretty little head over my hair a bit too much.” Brushing his fingers over your cheek teasingly right before pushing you away in a gentle manner and sitting right in the booth.

You scoffed at him with a little laugh to follow and sat across from him, taking one of your shared order of Suzie Q's and resting your head on your hand.

He apparently got a shake as well and sat back, taking a moment to enjoy it, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor.

"It's been too long…"

"Not to break your focus here but I gotta question actually." His attention popped back to you at that, clearly very curious.

"Continue."

"Alright, so since I would say we are friends now…" You paused, watching him to make sure you weren't in the wrong to assume so. He gave you a content nod. "And I love your music so, how much would it be to ask if I can sit in on practices? You all do practice right?"

Eddie laughed and rested his arms on the table, leaning toward you with a smug smile. "Can you just not get enough of me, birdie?"

"Answer the question, you dick!" You hissed at him, trying not to let yourself get too flustered.

"If you really want to, you can sit in. You've gotta be ready to give us constructive criticism though, no sitting in for free." Giving you a critical look, he relaxed and brought one leg up into the seat to have up by his chest. "Talk about this more in a minute, eat while it’s still nice and fresh. The fries are better that way."

"Better not just be a way to get me to shut up, Munson."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

[cantijustgoalready]

Message to a lost friend.   9/11/2022

I've thought about you every day since it ended, since I fucked everything up. I've thought of your smile, your warmth, your selflessness. I long for the days we would drive around, listening to music late at night and not having a care in the world. you were the only person I shared my stupid playlists with, and I still have that one song you decided to add, Where'd All the Time Go. I thought it was a silly song then, but now whenever I hear it my heart breaks. All it does is make me think of you and all that we did, and everything I did. I should get rid of it, stop listening, but I can't. I can't stop thinking about you, not matter how much it hurts.

I'm not sure I, or anyone for that matter, knows what love at first sight feels like. But I think that's what I felt when I first saw you, I just didn't know it yet. I was close to finding out, but being the piece of shit I was I led you on. It wasn't until we became distant, I think during sophomore and junior year, that I really realized who you were to me. Seeing you in relationships tore me apart, and sent me into a bad place. Some nights, while all of my friends were having fun, id just drive around, listening to music, thinking about how much I needed you. It's stupid, but i'd even pull up a picture of you, just to look at and sulk over. My mind was in shambles. It wasn't until senior year that we finally got together, after years of there being something between us, it finally happened. we finally happened.

Since I moved to our town, you have been the single best thing to happen to me. you brought me out of a very dark place of loneliness and helplessness. I can't thank you enough for that. And as a girlfriend, I couldn't have asked for anyone else. you were perfect, not just In looks but you were such a warm person and everybody loved you. Even I did. As much as I was terrible at showing it I loved you so so much, and if I could start over I would and I would express that love so much better. It was my lack of expression in love that made me forger what you meant to me, and allowed myself to fuck up and do what I did. God how I wish I could take that back, you deserved so much more than what I gave, and for that I'm eternally sorry.

Now that we've been apart for a while, I think I'm starting to fall back into that world again, even though I should be excited about being in college and starting this new adventure, I wish I could do it with you. I've tried to meet new people, and have new relationships that aren't just sex. But it's only ever sex, and I don't want that. The few times where it could've gone somewhere, I didn't follow through. I could never imagine myself with anyone else but you. But you're happy now, you've found someone who will give you what I couldn't before, and because of that I'm happy for you. I hope that joy lasts you a lifetime, because you deserve the best life possible.

I've got to go for now, but maybe I'll be back to write some more. To end this entry off, I want to say that I hope we find each other along the road again.

I love you M.

-The kid who wears the hats all the time.

[mu-pt1]

fear

growing up isnt a feeling I ever expected to experience. I thought id have passed long ago. from the moment I realized that im just a little different at the ripe age of 10 to still trying to connect with life at the age im at now, ive been in a constant state of trying to fit in. so much so that I didnt plan much for the future. my only plan is to work with animals and if that doesnt work out, im not sure what else to fall back on. soon, ill be an adult. soon, ill have to actually grow up and stop falling back into my childish ways when things go a little wrong. as I sit in my room, candles lit, windows open staring out into the dark forest night, I feel a sense of peace though. im not sure what im doing but im doing it and im trying my best. I hope all goes well. I love my boyfriend dearly. I say that about a lot of guys that ive talked to/dated so I wont bother trying to convince you that I truly do love him. I think I love hard and suffer harder as a result of it. im fearful he may play me like the rest have but im fine with it. ill cry and then ill get over it like I always have. people wonder why I move on so fast but I have no choice. life wont pause just because something went wrong in my life as much as I wish it would. my number one fear is to be left behind and forgotten about. so to beat this, I move on quick in the effort of staying caught up. someone breaks my heart, I cry, and then I move on. I cant stay behind otherwise ill be stuck behind. if I could get the moment to grieve, I would. but unfortunately, life just simply doesnt work like that. Ive gotten used to the fact that people you love are going to hurt you. theres no way to avoid that. hiding from that and denying it will only have you denying yourself. denying and hiding from yourself is the last thing you want to do. I often time feel alone. sometimes I like it but then I remember that sometimes, I truly am alone. this is where that painful feeling creeps in. its like a pinch that you just cant stop. a rock in your throat that you just cant cry out. I wish that I could get people to pay attention to me but we're all living our own lives and who am I to beg someone to stop and look at me for just a moment? this is why I dont blame attention seekers for being the people that they are. we all want attention in some way. some of us just go about it the wrong way. I was one of them. I used to show off my body. when that wouldnt work, id start arguments. when that wouldn't work, id show off how bad I had hurt myself. when even that wouldnt work, id lock myself away and accept the fact that no one truly cared. to battle through that is a scary and very excruciating feeling. its a feeling I dont want anyone to have the pain of experiencing. this is why im so giving to others and always help whenever I can. from human to animal. I dont want anyone to experience what I felt. to think what I thought. thats why I made this account. to let others battling the same issues as me to know that there is someone who understands that pain down to the waking up with excitement and then realizing theres nothing to be excited about.