#but I forget the entire other verse

[obstinaterixatrix]

my memory’s pretty spotty but surprisingly I remember a fair amount of lyrics from a song I haven’t listened to since… at minimum 7 years

[tevintersnakes]

The reason why in Fo4 the Institute only has one medical physician (Dean Volkert) who's working 16 hours a day is cos when Antyllus was doing the equivalent of his residency under him Antyllus got so immensely pissed off at his practices that it contributed to his I am going to prove everyone wrong by making synths of myself and his inevitably skedaddling that immediately followed

[edges-of-night]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request something? Fellowship x reader where the reader gets injured in a battle or something and confessed their feelings before passing out… and when they wake up they find out their feelings r returned 🤭 I love ur requests they r so very cute! Thank u!

That was such a lovely request to write, nonnie! I’m really sorry you had to wait for it so long. Also, thank you for your kind words!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Initially, Aragorn would not treat you much differently after your recovery – so much so that you start wondering if you actually confessed your feelings to him or hallucinated that whole part. But all Aragorn wants to do is find the right moment to talk to you. Once he does, he’d gently take your hands in his and tell you how much you mean to him – and that your feelings are in fact reciprocated! Confessing your love first gave him the courage to do the same. “I am not well versed in these fields. But I hope I can show you my heart just as bluntly as you did yours.”

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir would not be around when you wake up. The others tell you he was simply shocked by your passing out and that he needed time to adjust and would be overjoyed to hear you’re fine – but you suspect it would be something else that scared him away. You’d find him pondering in a lone corner, afraid of how he’ll react to seeing you again – only to see his hardened face light up when your eyes meet his – and then he’d rush to kiss you! “I’ve been a fool for not understanding it sooner. Forgive me…!” ♡

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

I like to think that out of the Fellowship, Frodo would be the most mature to handle your love confession. After all, he knows your injuries aren’t lethal and worries not about what happens next, since he is very clear in his own feelings. After you wake up, he greets you with a smile, takes your hand to make sure you’re fine – and lowers his voice to say, “I’ll call the others right away. But before that, I need you to remember the last thing you said to me. I feel the same.” He’d give you the cutest smile, shining all the way up to his blue eyes.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf, being the one who tried to heal you in the moment you passed out, tries ignoring your dramatic love confession and silently urges the others to forget what they overheard. That said, he is very flattered – after all, he’s been enamoured with you for a while now. Still, his romance is quiet and subdued. He’d sit next to you with a smile when you wake up. At first, you thought his behaviour was unchanged – until he ends his sentences toward you with “darling” or “my dear”. There is a playful spark in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know. (Eventually, he would also spell out ‘I love you too’ in fireworks or butterflies!)

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Gimli stays with you during your recovery, guarding your bed day and night, so dutifully that the others need to remind him of eating. Once you wake up, you’d meet his soft eyes, only to watch them harden when you try to speak to him: “Don’t do that again! Ever!” – “What? Talk to you…?” – “Scare me like that!” he corrects, grumbling into his beard. “What’s a lad supposed to do when his sweetheart passes out in his arms?” You smile blissfully as you understand and offer him a hug that Gimli more than eagerly returns!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas is entirely stumped when you pass out after that dramatic “I love you”. There is a frown on his pretty face for the next few hours, waiting for you to wake up again. When you do, you’re terribly embarrassed by the way he’s staring at you through his Elven eyes. He’d fixate you and ask, “Did you mean it? What you said to me?” You’d blush and retort that yes, of course you meant it – and that is enough to make his bright smile and joy return. “What a relief! I feared that if it had been but a fever, my reciprocation would ring false, or sound like a mockery. Please know it’s nothing but the truth!” And he’d take your hands and lean in for a quick and happy kiss!

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

At first, Merry would not believe what he heard just before you passed out. During your recovery, he retreats into dark corners to think and rationalise – people say all kinds of stupid things when they thought they were about to die, right? You couldn’t possibly be in love with him – not when there are so many other people – taller people – all around you. So, imagine his surprise when you do ask him for a private conversation after waking up, to set everything straight. Only Merry doesn’t accept your apology. “What’s there to apologise for? You said what you felt in that moment. It’s not like I didn’t like what I heard, I feel the same, after all…” And then, you both share an ‘oh!’ moment before you laugh and fall into the other’s arms!

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin would initially be overwhelmed by your confession and subsequent passing out. However, he’s positive you’ll be fine, firmly believing that no matter how important, these matters needn’t be so dramatic. He’d treat you as casually as always after your recovery, though you can’t deny there is a spring in his steps and a smile on his face whenever you’re talking. You now know that your feelings are returned, and yet you still blush when he tells you over a shared bowl of strawberries: “I don’t think I’ve told you yet, but I love you, too! Very much so! I’ve thought of a few different pet names to call you, but I wanted to clarify that first. So, just tell me which one you like best…”

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam would not leave your side, no matter how long you were passed out. Whenever someone would try and tear him away, he’d explain that he has something very important to discuss with you when you wake up. He would practice romantic speeches and poems to recite for you, really thinking the whole thing through – only to remain absolutely speechless when your eyes do meet his. After your initial greeting – “Thank goodness you’re alive!” – he’d just hold your hand and ask you to stay with him ♡

[humansofnewyork]

(3/54) “It’s been forty-three years since I’ve seen my home. All I have left is a jar of soil. It’s good soil. Nahavand is a city of gardens. A guidebook once called it ‘a piece of heaven, fallen to earth.’ The peaks are so high that they’re capped with snow. A spring gushes from the mountain, and flows into a river. It spreads through the valley like veins. We lived in the deepest part of the valley, the most fertile part. Our father owned thousands of acres of farmland. When we were children he gave us each a small plot of land to plant a garden. None of the other children had the discipline. They’d rather play games. But I planted my seeds in careful rows. I hauled water from a nearby well. I pulled every weed the moment it appeared. As the poets say: ‘If you cannot tend a garden, you cannot tend a country.’ My garden was the best; it was plain for all to see. The discipline came from my mother. She was very devout. She prayed five times a day. Never spoke a bad word, never told a lie. My father was a Muslim too, but he drank liquor and played cards. He’d wash his mouth with water before he prayed. The Koran was in his library. But so were the books of The Persian Mystics: the poets who spent one thousand years softening Islam, painting it with colors, making it Iranian. Back then it was a big deal to own even a single book, but my father had a deal with a local bookseller. Whenever a new book arrived in our province, it came straight to our house. I’ll never forget the morning I heard the knock on the door. It was the bookseller, and in his hands was a brand-new copy of Shahnameh. The Book of Kings. It’s one of the longest poems ever written: 50,000 verses. The entire story of our people. And it’s all the work of a single man: Abolqasem Ferdowsi. Shahnameh is a book of battles. It’s a book of kings and queens and dragons and demons. It’s a book of champions called to save Iran from the armies of darkness. Many of the stories I knew by heart. Everyone in Iran knew a few. But I’d never seen them all in one place before, and in a beautiful, leather-bound edition. The book never made it to my father’s library. I brought it straight to my room.” 

چهل‌وسه سال از هنگامی که از میهنم دور افتاده‌ام می‌گذرد. آنچه برای من باقی‌ مانده، شیشه‌ای‌ست پر از خاک. خاک خوبی‌ست. خاک نهاوند، خاک ایران. نهاوند شهر باغ‌هاست. زمانی کتاب ایران‌گردی را خواندم که آن را "تکه‌ای از بهشت بر زمین افتاده" نامیده بود. بر قله‌های بلندش برف همیشگی پیداست. چشمه‌ای که از دل کوه می‌جوشد، رودی می‌شود. چون رگ‌های تن در سراسر دره ‌پخش می‌شود. ما در ژرف‌ترین بخش دره زندگی می‌کردیم. حاصل‌خیزترین بخش آن. پدرم از زمین‌داران بود. او در کودکی من، به هر یک از فرزندانش پاره زمینی در باغ خانه داد تا باغچه‌ای درست کنیم. بچه‌های دیگر چندان علاقه‌ای به این کار نداشتند. آنها بازی را بیشتر دوست داشتند. ولی من دانه‌هایم را به هنگام با دقت می‌کاشتم. آب را از حوض یا چاه نزدیک می‌آوردم. گیاهان هرزه را بی‌درنگ وجین می‌کردم. همانگونه که می‌گویند: «اگر نتوانید از باغچه‌تان نگهداری کنید، از میهن‌تان نیز نمی‌توانید.» باغچه‌ی من بهترین بود؛ زیبایی‌اش بر همگان آشکار. این نظم را از مادرم آموخته بودم. مادرم بسیار پرهیزکار بود. روزی چند بار نماز می‌خواند، هرگز واژه‌ی بدی بر زبان نمی‌راند، هیچگاه دروغ نمی‌گفت. پدرم نیز مسلمان بود، ولی در جوانی گاهی نوشابه‌ی الکلی هم می‌نوشید و ورق‌بازی هم می‌کرد. پیش از نماز دهانش را آب می‌کشید. در کتابخانه‌اش قرآن و کتاب‌هایی از عارفان ایرانی داشت. شاعرانی که در درازای هزار سال اسلام را نرم و ملایم کرده بودند، به آن رنگ و بو بخشیده بودند، ایرانی کرده بودند. در آن زمان که داشتن کتاب کار آسان و عادی نبود، پدرم با کتاب‌فروش محلی قراردادی داشت. او هر بار کتاب جدیدی به دستش می‌رسید، باید یکراست نسخه‌ای به خانه‌ی ما بفرستد. هیچ‌گاه آن بامدادی را که صدای کوبیدن در را شنیدم، فراموش نخواهم کرد. کتاب‌فروش آمده بود و در دستانش کتاب شاهنامه‌ی جدیدی بود. نامه‌ی شاهان. یکی از بلندترین شعرهایی که تا کنون سروده شده است، بیش از پنجاه‌ هزار بیت شعر. همه‌ی داستان‌های مردمان‌مان. همه‌ی ایران در شعری یگانه. و همه‌شان سروده‌ی یک شاعر: ابوالقاسم فردوسی. شاهنامه کتاب نبردهاست. کتاب شاهان و شهبانوان، اژدهایان و اهریمن‌هاست. کتاب پهلوانانی‌ست که ایران را در برابر نیروهای اهریمنی پاس می‌دارند. بیشتر داستان‌ها را از بر بودم. هر ایرانی داستانی از شاهنامه می‌‌دانست. ولی من هیچگاه همه‌ی داستان‌های شاهنامه را یکجا در جلدی چرمی و زیبا ندیده بودم. آن کتاب هرگز به کتابخانه‌ی پدرم راه نیافت. آن را یکراست به اتاقم بردم

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 07: free space a happy ending

Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch. 

But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.” 

Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch. 

“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream. 

Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.” 

It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet. 

“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.

The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave. 

But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now. 

Remembering the words. 

What are you doing? 

Changing the world. 

So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does. 

Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is. 

His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse. 

It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin. 

Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside. 

"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."

He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up. 

Everything. You're everything. 

He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin. 

"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."

You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise. 

Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody. 

"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."

When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is. 

He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second. 

The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers. 

"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“ 

"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."

"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too." 

"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror. 

They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love. 

Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie. 

I love you. 

~*~

It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days. 

It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie. 

And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now. 

Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs. 

Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient. 

~*~

Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other. 

Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie. 

Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord. 

"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."

Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it." 

And so they do. 

Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means." 

Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."

There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them. 

You know, I always figured it would be you. 

No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.

It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be. 

"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too." 

"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked. 

"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys." 

And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his. 

"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!" 

"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time. 

When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile. 

~*~

It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you. 

It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.

It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression. 

"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.

"Yeah, baby?" 

Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.

"I love you." 

"Hmm. I love you more." 

No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?" 

He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers. 

And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask. 

It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future. 

And there are many, many more after this one.

🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13

god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay

[jo-harrington]

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

[fanonical]

Don’t take this as someone hitting [X] for Doubt but why are people saying Gwen Stacy is canonically trans?

I’m not really a comic book enthusiast nor a marvel fan but I enjoy the Spider-verse movies and I love hidden/blink-and-you’ll-miss-it/iykyk representation in media as much as the next guy but I what did I miss in the second movie that led to this conclusion?

so first of all, Gwen has a trans flag hanging in her bedroom that says “PROTECT TRANS KIDS”. people are saying, well she could be an ally etc but are forgetting this isn’t like, a real person’s bedroom, it’s the bedroom of a fictional character where everything is placed there as a commentary on what type of person she is. in this case, it’s pretty clear to me she’s saying she is a trans kid. her dad even has the trans flag stitched into his uniform - i’ve never heard of a cop doing that unless they have a trans kid, and again, i think that’s pretty clearly what we’re supposed to take from that. finally, Gwen’s entire world and design is defined by the colours of the trans flag. if you pay attention to her outlines, backgrounds, the colour grading of the scenes she’s on, it is clearly and specifically the trans pride colours. sure, it’s also her costume’s colours, but with the trans pride flags it’s pretty obvious what we’re supposed to read these colours as, if anything it implies that’s why she chose those colours for her suit. finally, the Spider-Woman “coming out” and “returning home” sequences specifically are defined by these colour palettes. when Gwen explains being torn between being “just a normal girl” and the new moral panic in the news to her father, when she finally opens up about the decisions she made to kept who she was secret from him, the entire scene very obviously bleeds into the entire trans flag. Gwen’s hair, normally a dyed blonde & pink, is the trans flag, vibrant and passionate — truly who she really is.

it’s not even really that subtle? its really obvious especially if you watch the scene with this in mind, it literally bleeds in like water colours into the scene.

there’s also just plenty of other details. her narrative is one pretty identical to the experience of a trans girl coming out. her dad, normally loving and caring, is awful and hateful about just one thing — who she is, who she has been this whole time, who she’s hiding from him. and when she finally is forced to come out, he insists on this hatred. and she has to run away. to a group of people just like her, where she can crash on the couch of a punk instead of going back to her dad. but with time, he comes to accept her. he changes - it’s no coincidence that this is the scene with the trans flag watercolours.

also she shares a shoesize with Hobie lol

[luvrrgirl444]

chapter 14: genius

“hi, y/n and i’m here today with genius to explain the lyrics of my song ‘kill bill’.” you smiled at the camera.

“so, fun fact about kill bill is that it actually only took about 6 hours to produce. i, uh-” you laughed. “i saw this thing online and it made me feel some type of way, and i was like ‘i need to release what i feel right now.’ so, i took out my songbook and went crazy. i called up my friend jean, my producer, and i was crying,” you laughed again, and made a phone gesture with your hand and brought it up to your ear. “and i was like, ‘bro i just wrote these lyrics, can we make a song right now?’ and we did, in like 6 hours.”

VERSE 1

i’m still a fan even though i was salty

hate to see you with some other broad, know you happy

hate to see you happy if i’m not the one driving

“the person that this song is about is actually also an artist, and he’s actually really talented. so basically, i was saying that even though i hate that nigga,” you stuck up your middle finger. “he’s still a great artist, unfortunately. the next two lines are literal, uh, about a month, maybe a month and a half after we broke up, he was posted up with another girl. which was honestly really shitty because he broke up with me to ‘focus on his music’” you quirked your eyebrow and used quotation marks. “basically this whole song is about me being a jealous heartbroken bitch.” you sarcastically smiled.

PRE-CHROUS

i’m so mature, i’m so mature

i’m so mature, got me a therapist to tell me there’s other men

i don’t want none, i just want you

if i can’t have you, no one should

i might

“i was tryna convince myself that i was strong, and that this wasn’t hurting me as much as i thought it was, but it definitely was. literally wrote a whole muthafucking song about it.” you laughed. “we we’re dating for a long ass time to be honest, so with the ‘i don’t want none, i just want you’ lyric, it’s basically saying that i’ve been with you for so fucking long, it’s always been you, how am i supposed to move on, y’know? it’s lowkey corny but yeah. the last lyric is very um, yandere simulator vibes but it relates to the theme of the song, which is like jealousy and vengeance and possession.” you put your hands up. “don’t worry y’all, i’m not a criminal.”

CHORUS

i might kill my ex, not the best idea

his new girlfriend's next, how'd i get here?

i might kill my ex, i still love him though

rather be in jail than alone

“i can explain y’all, i’m not a killer or a criminal but imma be real, i was definitely having some intrusive thoughts. but everyone does. like, anyone who says they’ve never had thoughts about hurting someone that did them dirty, or fucked with them, they’re fucking lying, 100%. and relating to what i said before, we were together for so long. no matter how much i try to deny, the love is still there. it’s been built up for years, as much as i want to, i can’t magically forget it overnight.”

you continued on with singing the lyrics and explaining them until you completely finished the entire song.

“kill bill was an impulsive creation and release. we recorded and finished the song in like 6 hours, and i was like ‘i want to release this today’” you pointed downwards. “but everyone told me no.” you rolled your eyes. “so i asked when was the soonest we could release it, and it was like in 2 days. so the next day i posted on instagram saying that i was releasing a song tomorrow and that was it. there was no promo for it, which is why i’m so fucking shocked that it did so well. but, thank you to my fans, friends and family, i love you all. stream kill bill, album coming soon, bye!” you blew a kiss to the camera, before smiling and making heart with your hands.

comments

erenjaeger: whole lotta yip whole lotta yap

⤷ y/nsinterlude: BITCH

y/nsbby: ALBUM COMING SOON? HOW SOON IS SOON GIRL??

⤷ y/nsinterlude: im doing good wbu

valentinagomez: TE AMO MI AMOR 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

⤷ y/nsinterlude: TE AMO HERMOSA 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

user2000: i love u ur so real ❤️❤️

⤷ y/nsinterlude: im the realest i love u too 🤍

conswife: stop talking shit about connie omfg

shyshiloh: i just died 😵😵

⤷ y/nsinterlude: i’ll revive u bae

user182: not u still in love with that sick man..

⤷ y/nsinterlude: I DIDNT SAY THAT SHIT

jkirstein: professional yapper

⤷ y/nsinterlude: i’m beating your ass

user555: dont let c***** see that video..

🦋 !

- this chapter is fr just a whole lotta yapping but 🫣🫣

taglist! <3 @lovelytayy @cyberkitty1 @sqlty @cr0quis @koreluvsspring @asp7n @lottiematthewsceo @shidousmainluvr @idontknowwhatnametochoosee @drugzforyou @astrokatsuki @crvzy-fujoshi @ncentic @ilyconnie @stellartoi @bubbabobabubbles @tee4str

[dduane]

In the Young Wizards 'verse, how would the universe handle two wizard-potentials going for the same manual at the same time, like reaching for the same book at the library? Would it somehow magically duplicate itself? Would it avoid the question entirely by waiting to choose the potentials until later? Would either (or both) of them get a notification of the manual installing itself as an app on their phones, thus distracting them from grabbing the book? (So many options!)

The Young Wizards series is one of my all-time favorites, by the way. Thank you for putting it into the world ❤️❤️ I need to reread it again soon!

First of all: thanks for the nice words! Delighted that the books were there for you. 😊

As to your question: I'm not sure this is a problem that's likely to come up, for an array of reasons that have to do with the basic nature of YW-'verse wizardry.

Basically, though: every wizard (like every other human, and every other sentient being) occupies a unique temporospatial position that doesn't just involve where they are, and when they are, but who they are; as well as where they've been, and what they've experienced. Different people, born in different places and raised in different ways by other different people, are inevitably going to have different personalities and different worldviews... and therefore, also, different preferred ways to engage with wizardry.* The chances that a given instrumentality offered to a given person is going to be an exact or even near-exact duplicate of the one offered to another person are pretty small. I don't think we need to worry too much about the two-hands-reaching-for-the-same-Manual-at-the-same-time paradigm.

Bear in mind also that there are a lot of different ways to get at Speech-based wizardly info besides books. Offered instrumentalities can vary wildly due not just to cultural norms, but personal preferences. Someone who likes stories but doesn't care for reading physical books might have their Manual turn up as an (apparent) audiobook. (Or maybe a podcast: or a videoblog: who am I to judge?) After all, we've already had wizards who manage spells or otherwise engage with wizardry by listening to the Sea, acquiring the Speech through sentient laptops, hearing it as in-mind speech which they manage by (probably somewhat Speech-enhanced) memory; by direct communications with the Powers that Be via an (apparent) little magical light source they carry around with them, and numerous other methods. (And don't forget the slightly unusual instrumentality that turns up in the YW 30-Day OTP sequence, in which one new probationary wizard obtains his Manual access via what appears to be Tuxedo Mask's rose from Sailor Moon.) ...Additionally, I have a vague memory of one wizard carrying around a Manual access that seems to be the one and only Magic 8-Ball featuring answers that are not hazy. Don't ask me which book it's in, though. Might be Games Wizards Play, but that's a guess.

As for app installations—no reason that Manual access might not turn up as an app update. Also, in terms of dedicated devices, wizPads and wizPhones (formerly wizPods) have been around for a while now, and both have become canonical over time: Darryl McAllister's using one of the wizPhone-based Manual versions in A Wizard of Mars. (Though these may occasionally present problems for practitioners testing out a new paradigm.) As a wizard grows into their practice of the Art, it's not at all unusual to change instrumentalities as one finds something that works better for them than what the Powers sent them the first time out.

Anyway: hope this helps! 😀

*As for the probably inevitable question, "But what if they're twins?" To quote a well-known authority, "It's never twins." :) (And that said: starting with Wizards at War, we see that occasionally, it is twins... and I'm pretty sure they acquired their delivery instrumentalities separately, though I can't recall whether this gets dealt with in canon.)

[best-overplayed-song]

As someone who never understood the hype around Take Me To Church and keeps forgetting that song even exists, can I ask the fans what exactly it is you like about that song? Because my current hypothesis is that yall were around 14 when it came out and music just hits different when you're 14. What else is there to like, genuinely

I try to stay unbiased here but Hozier is one of the only musicians I allow myself to be pretentious about, so before i info dump about why i love take me to church here's some other hozier songs you should give a shot:

francesca [i'd go through hell again just to hold you one more time], nina cried power [song about activism and black activists], swan upon leda [about the violence of colonialism, misogyny, and religious bigotry], eat your young [about the violence of war, capitalism, and generational trauma], movement, to noise making (sing), shrike, NFWMB [sexy], sunlight

anyway take me to church is so much more than just “loving you is like church”. he starts off by telling us how happy his lover makes him, despite constantly being told by The Church he was born sick and his happiness is a result of sinful behavior. he rejects the religion being forced on him, because unlike christianity, his church doesn't force him to accept absolution to reach heaven ("my church offers no absolutes / she tells me, 'worship in the bedroom' / the only heaven I'll be sent to / is when i'm alone with you"). the last two lines of the first verse-- "i was born sick, but i love it / command me to be well"-- questions why a god would create us to be inherently sick only to punish us for being sick.

i see the the chorus as a smart-ass comparison of his relationship to christianity. The Church expects him to blindly worship their lies and confess his sins, which he knows will be used against him ("take me to church / i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies / i'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife"), but he's supposed to accept this and devote his life to God so he can get to heaven ("offer me that deathless death / oh good god, let me give you my life"). by offering to do this for his lover, he's equating their love to religion.

in the second verse, he reiterates that he worships his lover with a metaphor ("if i'm a pagan of the good times / my lover's the sunlight"). the subtle remark of referring to the ancient practice of paganism as "the good times" comments on the colonization and forced conversion of ireland by christian england, which criminalized paganism. immediately after stating how his lover demands a sacrifice, he hungrily eyes the high horse The Church sits on, and questions what power they have over him and his people ("that's a fine lookin' high horse / what you got in the stable? / we've a lot of starving faithful"). this could also be a reference to the irish potato famine, which was not a result of drought, but of english lords forcing the irish to turn over their entire crop to send to england.

then we get the most poetic description of sex i've ever heard: "no masters or kings when the ritual begins / there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin / in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene / only then, i am human / only then, i am clean". fuck man

a lot of gay people with religious trauma love this song bc of everything i described above. also, it's a fuckin banger.

and yes i was 14 when it came out. what about it

[moonchild-in-blue]

Vessel and the New Lore

So the new messages got me thinking and connecting dots. I don't know coherent this will sound, but I think there's something here? Anyways. Something about the relationship Vessel has with himself vs. The Mask.

I thought it'd be interesting to link the parallels between the Room Bellow show and the Fall For Me video messages, with the new ones and the album. Long post ahead so I'll put a cut somewhere.

(This is the second time I'll be writing this cus tumblr decided to be a hoe and deleted my entire draft so if it seems weird, you know. Pro tip: never use the app for long posts.)

Disclaimer: I'm in no way endorsing or encouraging any type of discourse about Vessel's irl identity and/or other [Redacted] and such. Unfortunately I do know things, but not everyone does. Respect the band; don't spoil it for others. If you know, keep it to yourself.

So, starting with the first message:

Mask: Why am I here? What is my purpose in all of this? Vessel: Your purpose is twofold. You protect me, from them, and you also protect them from me. Mask: How is it that I serve to protect anyone from anything, that makes no sense. Vessel: In order for all of this to work there has to be a certain boundary in place. They need to be able to project themselves onto this, without anyone else's identity getting in the way. In turn, I need to be able to show my true self to them in a way that does not compromise their ability to connect. Mask: So that's what I am? A boundary? Vessel: Yes.

We have here a confirmation of what he has told us many times before, either indirectly or not. The Mask/the Vessel persona serves as a way for him to connect and engage with us, while keeping both parties safe. We get to project onto and take from him some sort of comfort and catharsis, without any external factors to influence and skew the way we interpret his music, and He gets to expose and deal with his pain and negative thoughts in a protected environment. Who he is is irrelevant, we're merely here to share and understand each other.

Through the anonymity the mask offers, he is free to be as vulnerable and open with us as he wants, while keeping his identity safely stored away. The Mask serves as the physical reminder of how much we are allowed to know about him, and in return, how far he can (or should) expose himself without compromising his true identity. By living as Vessel and forgetting himself, he is ironically free to bare his most fragile and imperfect parts of himself on display (much like how we're all infinitely more honest about our struggles behind a fake online name than in irl.)

(curiously, this seems to be a contradiction to Higher's second verse, which feeds into the idea that Sleep is not the protector Vessel sometimes claims Them to be - "With all that you believe / You still refuse to shelter me")

From the Room Bellow:

"I experienced a great deal of pain in my life, however I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that Is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered."

Lore wise, we are told time and time again that Vessel is a "sacred guardian", a messenger, a weapon, a tool - a physical vessel - for Sleep and Their message. He is the answer to Sleep's necessity for connection with us. And for that to work, he willingly gives up his identity for Sleep. For us.

Mask: I don't believe you. I believe there is more to it than that. I believe you are afraid of something. Vessel: We are all afraid of something, are we not? Mask: What is it you are so afraid they will see? Vessel: That I am exactly like everyone else. ... Vessel: I think I am afraid of becoming you. Mask: What does that even mean? Vessel: My life is becoming gradually consumed by you. Before long, all that I am will be contained within you. Then, one day, when I no longer wish to wear you, there will be nothing else left.

"I am afraid, are you afraid? I want to understand what it is to let go." (Fall For Me)

At the end of the day, Vessel is just some guy - he fears, and aches, and bleeds the same as us. We're equals. But as Vessel, he can't allow himself to crack, to break the illusion. As Vessel (and to connect to the lore, as the vessel of a god), he poses as someone we can look up to, someone who's there to carry our pain for us, almost like a symbiotic relationship of sorts - we feed on each other's emotions and energies.

From the Room Bellow:

"To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. (...) My own path towards greater self acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else."

Without getting too much into it, it seems Vessel/Sleep Token were created as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with whatever it is that He went through. And he seems to have achieved that - he escaped his former self and became "Vessel", someone who's allowed to cry and rage and let his feeling loose. Someone who receives praise and comfort for it, someone who is finally understood.

Except that somehow, that same safety the Mask offered him backfired. Because how can you tell what's you and what's not? It appears that the lines between Vessel vs. Him have blurred beyond recognition. Because "Nothing lasts forever", so once ST ends, and Vessel is no longer a necessity, who does he become? Can he go back to his old self? Is there even a self to go back to?

Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people? It's getting harder to be myself. Do you wish that you loved me? Could we ever release? Is it better to just not feel?

I think it's worth mentioning DYWTYLM. Usually when I listen to it, I just interpret as being about self-love/esteem, suicidal thoughts, insecurities, yada yada yada, BUT! I think it kinda fits this right?? Like a conversation between Vessel and Him, the guy behind the mask.

And really, if you think about it, I think this dialogue is the basis of what TMBTE is. It's Vessel facing all these different facets of himself, the past versions, the ugly sides, coming to terms with them and learning to move on. And in the end, we see he finally does realize, albeit somewhat reluctantly, that there is more to it, than he can "be someone new", even if it means he needs to shed and let go of past versions of himself.

(of course, this is putting aside the whole trilogy and the story we've been told about Sleep/Vessel/Whatever romantic entanglement he was involved in. i'm merely giving this some other meaning and choosing to look through a very specific lens. call it a parallel universe if you want)

It's him accepting that although there may not be a version of himself to come back to, his Eden so to speak, there is finally something more waiting for him. But I'll get more into it later.

Also worth mentioning, this part of conversation-

Mask : Do you think they want you to cry? Do you think they like it? Vessel : Not as such, I think they just want to know that I am feeling something, feeling what they are feeling, perhaps. Mask : Do you think that this amount of crying is healthy for you? Vessel: I don't know. But at least I feel something, if I don't feel anything than why would I even do this?

-seems to be directly co-related to those lines on DYWTYLM. He wonders if maybe would be better not to feel at all, as if really asking himself, "should I continue to live as Vessel?", because that is his/The Mask's function.

(I almost forgot to mention the "Smile back at me" / "I can only ever see them smiling. That's good, I want them to smile." co-relations, but you see where I'm going right?")

Mask: It seems you have forgotten who you are. Before you had me you were nothing. All of this artifice, all this pathetic conjecture about your identity, it is nothing but a manifestation of how short-sighted and solipsistic you have become. I lifted you from misery and obscurity. You would be better to become me. You are nothing without me. You always were nothing without me.

"I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask." (Room Bellow)

Sleep is a dickhead. And there it is - another confirmation of what we all assumed, of what he has also told us many times before in different words. Vessel, or better yet, Him, struggles with imposter syndrome, and a part of him seems to believe his worth is exclusively tied to his ability to create music and perform. Because who matters is Vessel, not Him. The praise and adoration, the glory, belongs to solely Vessel (in-lore, to Sleep).

He does not matter. He is insignificant. He is nothing.

So it makes sense to see how much he wishes to be someone else. How dependent he on his Mask (on Sleep). He can't shed that new identity away, because somehow, it became is ONLY identity. And yet, he knows that one day that must happen. And from a creative/artist standpoint, when you expose yourself the way he does into your art, almost bleeding into it, if that outlet is taken away, you really are left with nothing.

(yall, read the poem "about the PEN conference" by Bukowski).

"The truth is, I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost. I am no God." (Fall For Me)

And can I just say, how incredibly heartbreaking it is to hear him talk about himself like that? I have so, so much love and respect for Ves, it's almost ridiculous to think he is only worth the weight of his mask. I would give him a million hugs if I could. Whether or not he still believes that, I hope he one day can look at himself the way we do, and be proud and happy of the amazing human that he is.

I also think that, and this is just me rambling, their sudden explosion to fame must've taken some sort of toll of sorts. It must be SUCH an amazing feeling to see this many people connect and dedicate themselves to something you created, to be able to read between the lines of you thoughts, but it must just equally as scary. Suddenly there's SO many eyes on you, demanding and picking apart every gesture. Viciously clawing at the mask for a glimpse of the fragile soul within. It must not be easy to cope - and this goes to everyone in Sleep Token. They have to deal with so much unfairness, it's disgusting.

Vessel: You. Are. Wrong. In the end, my fractured sense of self was only another piece of fuel for the fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us. They too are pained. They too not know who they truly are. They are each stood alone on a stage of their own. And yet, they are here. United by that sense of never truly belonging. They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now. To reflect their joy and to serve as a conduit for their anguish. To swallow their fear. To Worship.

"So for now let me serve as a living drama of your pain. If we are to be submerged then let us be submerged together." (Fall For Me)

And this is the part that really breaks me. He knows how much we need this, how much we rely on his music, on his words. He fights against his own claims that he has no value - he serves a purpose and that purpose is to serve the audience. Us. To take our struggles, our desires, and make it his own. To basically serve as a sacrifice for our well-being. To suffer, to feel together. To serve as a living drama of OUR pain.

"I will smile through the agony for you".

Because in the end, we're all equally broken. Because that's what the Mask is for, the anonymity, the mystery, the band - for us to "project ourselves" onto him, onto them. They are vessels, servants, worshippers of a god who shelters them; much like how we interact with their music, much like how Vessel thinks his purpose is for.

(and I could expand on this weird worshipper vs worshipee cycle, but i'm tired and i can't ramble on for too long. someone more clever than me feel free to expand)

(a post edit: peep that "fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us" vs "those eyes like fire, I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre" parallel. Vessel sacrificing himself to us, for us. Performing and being Vessel as something he cannot but feel compelled to do.)

From the Room Bellow:

"We are here to silently collect. To project ourselves onto one-another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget."

WHICH BRINGS US TO EUCLID.

No, by now The night belongs to you This bough has broken through I must be someone new

If we are to take the messages as a complement to the album, then this definitely marks the "shift" in Vessel's perspective. He CAN be more, and he NEEDS to be more. To be new.

The night does not belong to god - it belongs to US. To Him. Not just Vessel, but Him. Obviously this is all speculation, but it really feels like he's ready to let go of so many things, and move on. To renew himself, to stand up and fight. To finally "bite back". He doesn't seem to be completely changed, as there are things he still seems to hold on to (just listen to Euclid). But it´s different now. The "vicious cycle is over."

"They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now."

Vessel seems to emphasize the "collectiveness" of what Sleep Token is and represents quite often. So in a way, it´s him saying "We´ve all suffered together, we've all experienced so many things together, so let us reach for something better as one. Let us all become new. You are not alone in this, and neither am I, so hold on to us and be happy."

WHICH IS!!!!! JUST!!!!!

I think this shift represents something important. My guess, like many others have said, is that Something Big is going to happen in/after Wembley. I don't know what, I don't know if it's truly the end of the road for ST, as many speculate, but something is definitely going to happen. Whatever it is, I hope this is a positive change for them, and specially Vessel, and I am just so so grateful to be part of this amazing community of ours.

(if you read the whole thing, I love you and thank you and I'm sorry. My brain was itching real bad and this had to be let out. Don't take this a proper analysis or whatever, this is me squeezing excess water off the old rag that is my mind)

[mayashesfly]

Some thoughts I have about the differences of my Forgotten Radio AU and Canon. (Mostly focused on Vox since he's my favorite character despite this being a SilentStatic AU. Unfortunately I'm not well-versed at writing Alastor's character even if I wanted to :')

After calming down Valentino's tantrum just like in Canon, Val tried to rile up Vox by mentioning Alastor. However, since Vox has already wiped his memories and added some… preventive measures, he merely dismissed Val's comments.

But because the Princess of Hell was involved, Vox still brought more spy drones onto the Hazbin Hotel to monitor the happenings there in addition to the drone Valentino already sent in to inform him.

They didn't bring Sir Pentious or someone else to spy on the Hazbin Hotel for them because of this.

Sir Pentious takes some time recuperating after being Team Rocketed by Alastor before he'll eventually strike again on the hotel again.

Ever since Alastor's return and seeing the remnants of his partnership with Vox first things first since he returned (The Radio sHack in the Pilot), he was bidding his time for Vox to get wind of his return and react explosively in some way for his entertainment and to take advantage of.

However Vox didn't do anything of the sorts. Unlike how he would've reacted otherwise if he still retained his memories.

When Alastor caught sight of the painfully obvious Vox drones around the hotel, he purposefully posed in front of them a few times, hoping to finally gloat out the tv-headed demon from his hiding. Much to his growing annoyance and confusion though, nothing happened as the drones flew passed him due to the corrupting footage in order to clearly see what else was happening in the hotel.

He did this for a few times a day in slowly increasing frequency for the entire week before Sir Pentious attacked the hotel again and proceeded to get fucked over for ruining Alastor's coat. Alastor barely letting the poor demon alive thanks to Charlie's pleas.

Vox and Velvette discussed to one another who should be the one to attend the Overlord meeting. Valentino is forever banned from attending any of these things after a particular incident that the Vees would rather not repeat again.

It took some back and forth between the two of them before they agreed on Vox going to the meeting. But the only reason Vox's head wasn't ripped out like the torn up models Valentino so gracefully provided her is because she has a big fashion show incoming and those fucking models aren't going to dress themselves.

"Seriously Vox are you sure you don't have anything better to do? Like that bullshit Angelic Security of yours?" "Carmilla would be there. Which is all the more reason for me to go there myself" "Just don't forget the plan you flat-faced fuck, who knows what would happen if we screw this up?" "Well someone else could get screwed instead~"

Groan

"Shut up Valentino! I'm being serious!" "Who says I wasn't being serious too, Velvette~?"

"GUYS"

"You have nothing to worry about. I have this all handled, just trust me alright?" "Well you better keep your words Vox, cuz I have a show to run and no time for a shitshow to fix" "That's my boy~"

After Alastor's wonderful talk with Zestial, he finally meets Vox again outside of the meeting room. Being on time for the meeting unlike Velvette.

Vox introduced himself to Alastor, thinking he was a new Overlord because he never saw him before. Much to Alastor's slowly growing frustration and realization.

Thankfully, Rosie took note of Alastor's presence and promptly lead him away from Vox before he tore out the other's head before the meeting started. Being able to catch up with him and tell him to visit her in Cannibal Town sometime.

Upon taking his seat besides Rosie, Alastor makes a comment about his reappearance, hoping that it would distract him from whatever the fuck Vox was on. Unfortunately, just like in canon, Carmilla does not give a shit. Causing Alastor to steam in his frustration.

While whispering quietly, Rosie admits to Alastor that she doesn't exactly know what happened to Vox. But three years into his absence, something about Vox has changed when he was suddenly more active after three years of mostly being inactive.

It only makes Alastor's head swim in confusion and possibilities of what might've happened.

Unlike Velvette who instantly hijacked the meeting upon entering, Vox waited for the perfect opportunity to present the information he had about the Angel's death. He first showed the scene of the crime on the screen Carmilla was using in her presentation before bringing out the literal Angel's head once he was questioned about the credibility of his source.

"Unfortunately, I couldn't bring the entire body with me. But surely this is enough evidence to show you that what that screen is showing isn't faked?"

Alastor became curious and impressed by such information. It was a rather valuable information he could use for himself after all... Perhaps finally having something for the Princess...

Though it didn't completely ease the discomfort he had from Vox's strange behavior. Vox was barely glancing his way, if at all, during the entire meeting when used to feel those stolen glances from him, even after their partnership ended and he had teamed up with that disgusting pompous moth instead.

His gaze never failed to land on him one way or another before.

Unlike now.

Vox still pitches a similar idea to Velvette with a bit more professionalism, noticing the odd reaction Carmilla had upon seeing the golden blood stain the table. But saying nothing of it as a musical number rolled around.

The complete details and differences between this AU and Canon's Overlord Meeting eludes me since there's a lot of character dynamics at play. But the meeting does end up much shorter than usual as Vox tries to casually take his leave, if not a bit annoyed by the words thrown his way.

That was the very first time Alastor saw Vox fight someone else for once. Except for him.

But regardless of his feelings on the matter, he has a sneaking suspicion that Carmilla may know something even when Vox said nothing of the sorts.

Without Sir Pentious and thus the Egg Boiz in the picture, Alastor couldn't easily eavesdrop on Carmilla and Zestial without possibly outing himself as the eavesdropper.

And unfortunately for him, he couldn't hide in his shadows in Carmilla's office to hear the information straight from the Overlord's mouth.

Vox never said his suspicions about Carmilla's involvement during the meeting, however he did say it to the other Vees about his findings and suspicions. Perhaps that private meeting with Carmilla would yield more results than just for Angelic Securities after all.

Time passed and Alastor was utterly bored. There wasn't as much development between his thralls and Angel Dust's relationship ever since he joined the hotel. They have already tried "trust falls" and "show and tell with the group" and whatever else nonsense the Princess had thought about. But nothing of interesting was happening.

He never caught wind of the TV demon as well besides his usual drivel despite seeing the bumbling drones around the hotel.

It was strange, knowing that his rival didn't give him any mind unlike before. And it was just making him inch for a bloodcurdling fight to ease his boredom.

It was only during a traumatic experience in the middle of a turf war did his thralls and Angel Dust bond.

Much to Sir Pentious' misfortune, he just had to attack the hotel while Alastor was in a bad mood about Vox, the dear Princess nowhere in sight.

And well…. he still very clearly remembers Sir Pentious now after he ruined his best coat.

[scaranation]

༊*·˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒’ 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓

header art by @/kkaags on twitter

Pairing: chess captain!Ayato x reader

Content: fluff, headcannons, modern high school au, ayato is slightly a red flag on this one

You joined the chess club as a newcomer to the game, where Ayato introduces himself as a fellow beginner. You think he's just terrible at chess - after all, how could he lose to you so often? However, as time goes on, you begin to question if you're the one who's been playing into his hands all this time...

a/n - was just rereading ayato lore and remembered he plays chess, so i wanted to write about him doing it in a modern chess setting where he's absolutely whipped for the reader 😭 i cant stop writing about desperate genshin men im so sorry

chess captain!ayato, who’s been harbouring a small crush on you ever since you stepped foot in campus. despite taking different classes, you’d always be the centre of his attention, even if you rarely interacted with him.

chess captain!ayato, who’s elated to see you join the club. the moment you confess to being a beginner, he flashed you a smile before asserting that he, too, was new to the game.

chess captain!ayato, who revelled in the gleeful look on your face whenever you won a game against him. he’d take care to fumble right into your victory each time, just to feel his heart flutter when you smiled.

chess captain!ayato, who’d play exactly as you wanted when you tried book moves for the first time. oh, you were attempting a scholar’s mate? he’d ‘accidentally’ fall right into the trap, feigning shock as you smugly pushed your queen to F7.

chess captain!ayato, who ignored the incredulous looks everyone else shot him when he blundered his way through every game with you. as a highly accomplished player - winning all the tournaments he competed in - it certainly was a sight to see the kamisato ayato open with pawn to H4.

chess captain!ayato, who would only play at his true level when you weren’t looking. his favourite hobby was to push the worst move possible and watch your thinly veiled happiness as you won yet again, pretending to be annoyed when you teased him for his ‘stupidity’.

chess captain!ayato, who would leave ayaka to run the club as his vice captain whenever he was busy in a game with you. he enjoyed the expression on your face as you thought, the light twitching of your lips to murmur ghostly syllables to yourself. he liked to imagine how those lips would feel on his.

chess captain!ayato, who would desperately try to prevent you from realising he wasn’t exactly as bad as you thought he was. when you were talking to your friends about how absolutely hopeless he was at chess, he’d shoot them a silencing look to staunch their shocked expressions. if you tried to look up previous records from tournaments, you’d somehow find yourself in conversation with him and forget about what you were doing entirely.

chess captain!ayato, who’d nod eagerly and let you ‘coach’ him in chess. he’d smile so delicately as you bid him good luck before a tournament, whilst everyone else idly wondered why on earth the feared ayato would need help to be reminded of piece value.

chess captain!ayato, who’d be too immersed to notice you if you walked in on him playing a proper game. you’d be stunned at the way his fingers gracefully snapped the pieces into position without hesitation, the subtle clink of lacquered wood against the board reasonating through the room as he claimed piece after piece. he was nothing like the foolish, impulsive player you’d versed countless other times.

chess captain!ayato, who’d study his opponents with an almost terrifying look of sheer calculation. his eyes would skim emotionlessly over the board, lithe hands almost flying between the pieces and the timer. occasionally, a cold smirk or two would escape - indicative of his incoming victory.

chess captain!ayato, who’d look so wounded when you found out - acting like you’d caught him cheating on your non-existent relationship. you’d only feel embarrassed at having thought you were better than this absolute menace of a player, whilst he apologised time and time again before (timidly) asking you to play one more round.

chess captain!ayato, who’d then offer to properly teach you outside of school hours. of course, he didn’t view them as tutoring sessions - he saw them as dates. or, perhaps, just opportunities for him to admire your face until he reached the stage of his plan where he could ask you out, and you’d be too equally infatuated to refuse.

Checkmate.

༊*·˚

[the-coffee-fandom]

❀。• *₊°。 ❀° 。。° ❀ 。° ₊ * •。❀

Hanahaki Hours

❀。• *₊°。 ❀° 。。° ❀ 。° ₊ * •。❀

Calendar by @the-coffee-fandom and inspired and encouraged by @boldlyanxious. Day Eight inspired by and dedicated to @tree-reads.

Welcome back to Hanahaki Hours! Hosted in the month known for its showers bringing flowers: May!

A week dedicated to a popular trope, Hanahaki Disease, which came along August 9th, 2008. It's a fictional disease in which a character coughs up flowers which grow inside them from unrequited love (or other creative interpretation).

How you use the prompts is up to your own creative interpretation! You can use the quotes, flowers, word, or all of them! Do one day, do the entire week, do a poem, a piece of art, drabbles and incorrect quotes, or even just a quick doodle. Have fun with it!

Need inspiration? Don't feel like researching flowers? Flower Symbolism has been premade! Slightly different from last years! Click here for the full list or click here for a master list if you only want one specific flower!

Open to any fandom, ship, pairing, or otherwise to use!

Tags for Tumblr:

#Hanahaki Hours 2024 #Hanahaki Hours

Tags for Ao3:

Hanahaki Hours 2024 Hanahaki Hours

the-coffee-fandom's Hanahaki Hours

Ao3 Collection:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Flower_Hours

Tag @the-coffee-fandom and reblog for others to see too! I will reblog any I'm tagged in!

Please feel free to reach out to @the-coffee-fandom however you'd like if you have any questions! Especially if you need more information on flowers.

Remember that if the days don't match your schedule, you can do these at any time! Collection stays open and prompts are always available!

Written out prompts below the cut!

May 7th:

Quote: "We don't all have happy endings."

Flower: Poppy

Word: Revival

May 8th:

Quote: "I'd like to stay here. With you."

Flower: Daisy

Word: Pastel

May 9th:

Quote: "Don't you think it's time to stop?"

Flower: Forget Me Not

Word: Fade

May 10th:

Quote: "They're my home."

Flower: Sage

Word: Keep

May 11th:

Quote: "If you leave now... that's it, you know."

Flower: Wolf's Bane

Word: Verse

May 12th:

Quote: "It's morning."

Flower: Avens

Word: Ice

May 13th:

Quote: "Cut it."

Flower: Peony

Word: Catch

Substitutes:

Quote 1: "I've never seen anything as beautiful as your eyes."

Quote 2: "I want to hear pretty lies."

Flower 1: Orchid

Flower 2: Narcissus

Word 1: Venom

Word 2: Arrival

Previous Calendars:

2023

[yuusishi]

Bro your writing is literally so cute and it makes me smile so hard man!!

I was wondering if I could request Floyd Ace and Malleus with an Edward Elric reader? (Basically really smart and comes from a non magic world where the powers used is alchemy also is really short for their age (149 cm) and hates when anyone calls them short reader also has a mechanical right arm and left leg)

Imagine Floyd just popping off the reader’s left leg and running away with it or sm and the reader chases after him at full speed with a makeshift leg they made using alchemy

. . . Alchemical Genius

pairings : Floyd Leech , Ace Trappola , Malleus Draconia x gn!Edward Elric!reader

genre : fluff

cws/tws : stealing of prosthetic limbs as a joke?? (<- non graphic descriptions)

a/n : sorry that Malleus’ part is like pretty short compared to the others I’m becoming like really sleepy as I’m finishing this

Floyd Leech !!

Finds your mechanical limbs so damn cool!! There isn’t much merfolk down in the Coral Sea that use prosthetics and he really only was properly introduced to them when he made it on land so he was fascinated with you like a science experiment.

But even if he finds your stuff cool…that won’t stop him from teasing you for your height…

I mean c’mon, he’s 6’1 (185cm) and you’re 4’8 (149cm), he can’t NOT take the opportunity.

Because of it, he tends to pick you up as if you were as light as a feather whenever you started getting annoyed at him. Either running around the hallway or just simply picking you up to spin you around (he holds your mechanical limbs while doing so though because he’s not entirely sure if they can just…fall off.)

But the rule is that only he can do that, only he can tease his Shrimpy like that >:( Anyone else will get squeezed hard with no hesitation.

Comes to you every time he’s too lazy to do alchemy homework and no matter how much you deny him you know you’ll end up giving him the answers, but when you're in the mood you'll just explain things to him (even when he understands it anyways) just to bore him enough to do the homework himself.

In the situation he just outright steals a mechanical limb from you...it could become quite the regular sight, Floyd running with a detached metal leg around the hallways while you blast yourself full speed at him to get it back using a temporary alchemy-made leg.

Ace Trappola !!

Thinks your mechanical limbs are cool v2. And you're good at alchemy? He def scored on friends in his first year.

Him scoring high on friends doesn't mean he scored high in alchemy though, with you not allowing him to copy your answers. And he learned not to bother you about it after the last time Professor Trein had to break him and you apart after he annoyed you a tad bit too much for the alchemy questions...

Honestly he doesn’t really have much to comment about your mechanical limbs like at all. He found them cool at first because “wow you have metal limbs” but after a while it’s just become as normal as biological limbs.

Especially since the most that can be seen is your hand and occasionally your ankle since the NRC uniforms are long sleeves, so they never drew too much attention in the first place.

Unbelievably jealous that you’re one of the top scorers in alchemy class since you were already very well-versed in alchemy from your studies and job in your old world. I mean, how does he even think of besting someone that was the youngest State Alchemist?!

He keeps up with whoever’s on the number one spot during exams since it’s ALWAYS either you, Riddle, or Azul.

You’re the shortest in the friend group and Ace teases about it from time to time but most of the time he just lowkey forgets about it, even when he literally has to look down to talk to you.

Malleus Draconia !!

Extreme height difference v2, this time it qualifies as a long distance relationship.

But also forgets about it, I mean he’s 6’5 and has had Lilia as his guardian for years, he doesn’t care for something as trivial as height differences.

The thing about you that makes him the most curious would be your prosthetics.

The people of Briar Valley heavily rely on magic, so even when there were veterans who’s limbs were cut off during the war they’d just use magic to do day-to-day things.

So having you, a human with replacement limbs, in front of him really piqued his curiosity. He’d ask a few questions and tried not to tread too far and possibly ask something too personal, but sometimes he’d do just that without meaning to.

It ticked you off, yeah, but you tried to understand where he’s coming from and cool down before telling him that you didn’t want to answer it (to which he’d be understanding of.)

He’d also be impressed that you became a State Alchemist back at your world at such a young age, he even pitied you slightly since you seemed to have such a bright future before getting plucked off to Twisted Wonderland.

Occasionally keeps up with whoever’s the top scorer during exams since you, Azul, and Riddle always seem to be competing with each other, this became even more apparent during housewarden meetings (whenever he got invited to it at least.)

[beybaldes]

stumble under the stars

summer sleepover masterlist

dad!roy kent x fem!reader

summary : “whispering in-between kisses” with dad!roy

content warning : low-key smut but non written, that gif because dad!roy definitely gets so wrapped up in being a dad that he lets his hair and beard grow out because he forgets to get them trimmed and I love his little curls, Nell!verse because I ducking love that baby

When your eyes met Roy’s, you could tell he was just as excited as you were. “She’s finally down?” He asked, slipping a Polaroid of the two of you back between the pages of his book, then placing it down on his bedside table.

“She’s fast asleep.”

A soft smile grew on Roy’s face as you began to crawl up the bed, avoiding every spot on the mattress that you knew would screech at your touch or cause the bed frame to creak. After spending an entire hour trying to get Nell to sleep, you didn’t exactly live the idea of waking her right back up.

“Totally asleep?” Roy reached his hands out to you and hooked them around your thighs, pulling you along the length of the bed and into his arms quicker.

“Totally asleep.” You reaffirmed, placing yourself into his lap and repositioning his hands to sit on your waist. He moulded the flesh of your hips between his fingers, using his tight grip to pull you even closer against his bare chest. One of your arms wrapped around his neck and tangled into the curly tufts of hair at the base of his neck, while the other brought your hand up to cup his cheek, pulling his lips to meet your own. “I missed you.” You hummed against his lips, barely kissing him with each word you spoke. It wasn’t enough for Roy.

“I Missed you too, Angel.” Roy’s hands pulled at your waist, grinding you into him as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Missed this.”

“I know, I know.” You cooed, caressing his face between hastily exchanged kisses, you fingers combing through his grown out scruff with each rock of your hips hungrily against his. “Me too. It’s just-“

“Hard? Yeah I know.” Roy pulled you down against him, biting back a groan by pulling his lower lips between his teeth. You half helped him, diving in for another kiss that just concealed the moan by allowing you to swallow it. “Stupid baby.”

You pushed yourself away from Roy slightly, resting your forehead against his and allowing your heavy breaths to mix in the space between you. “Mmm, Nell’s not stupid. She’s the light of your life.”

“Maybe, but you were the light of my life first.” Roy faintly nudged his nose against yours, pressing a brief kiss to your lips then pressing his fore head to yours once more. “That being said, I love that baby girl of ours more then anything.”

“Me too.” The two of you pulled away from each other long enough to gaze at the closed door to her room across the hallway, sparing it one long glance before setting your eyes on one another once more. “You going to continue trying to fuck me, Mr Kent, or are you just going to continue sitting there and looking pretty?”

“Mmm, definitely the former, Mrs Kent.” With a growl, Roy pushed you over until your back pressed into the mattress, a loud creak sounding as he moved himself to hover over you. “Fuuuck.”

Nell’s crying had calmed within minutes of you taking her from her crib and into your arms, offering to feed her while you sat down next to Roy in bed. “Lucky little shit.” He whispered, staring down at where Nell was pressed against you, getting sleepier with each moment more she was in your arms. Roy could understand that feeling entirely. “Wish that were me.”

Nell finally pulled away from you as he spoke, falling silent and asleep once more. Slowly you rose from the bed, crossing the hall and placing Nell back in her crib. When you left the room, you kept the door open a crack, making sure to do your best not to make a sound as you crept back to you and Roy’s bed.

Roy placed a single finger against his lips, encouraging you to be silent as you walked into the bedroom once more. This time, Roy reached out for your waist as you reached out for his shoulders, pulling him down and on top of you as you lay back on the bed.

One of his forearms rested against your head, keeping himself from being entirely on top of you, the other lay against your side, his hand caressing the exposed skin between your T-shirt and pyjama pants. “Think you’re wearing too many fucking clothes.” Roy muttered against your lips between fast and pliant kisses, tugging at the bottom of your T-shirt fervently.

“Funny that, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

“I’m already shirtless.” A laugh bubbled from Roy’s chest and you could feel the vibrations of it in your own. “You’ve got to at least even the playing field.”

You rubbed your hands up and down Roy’s chest, scratching your fingers through his chest hair just enough to sting, then finally settling them around his shoulders and in his hair. “Already shirtless and still wearing too much.” You chastised, bringing your feet up the band of his pyjama pants and pushing them down. “Roy Kent, you continue to amaze me everyday.”

Slightly breathless, Roy sucked a particularly hard kiss against your neck just under your jaw, pulling away only because he’d finally managed to wriggle your shirt up enough to pull it over your head. He pressed a long and firm kiss to your lips, groaning obscenely into it, forgetting for a moment that he could make too much noise, or make you make too much noise, less Nell wake right back up. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I never would’ve guessed.” You teased, returning a hot and fluid kiss guided by your hand against the back of his head, tilting it so he was pressed deeper against you, his tongue brushing across your locked lips. “I love you too, Roy.” Your forehead rested against Roy’s once more, chest moving up and down and against his erratically. “Fancy letting me show you just how much I love you?”

“I’d want for nothing more.”