#but honestly this move has kicked my butt

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 2/6

Read part 1 here

Cw: angst, jealousy, pining, weed consumption, 18+ content MDNI

Wc: 4.4k

You didn’t see Eddie the rest of the day, but you did happen to run into Steve and yell at him for the most impromptu timing in the world. It has been a scorcher of a day, so you were elated that today was swim day.

The sun was sweltering; Robin and you had to triple-check that your campers had all the water-resistant sunscreen. You had worn your bathing suit under your jean shorts and Camp Murdock t-shirt, but you couldn’t take the sweaty cotton touching your skin any longer. You had to strip off the clothes that were sticking to your skin.

“I think I might die if I don’t get in the water now!” Robin complained. You could see her usually pin-straight bangs getting wavy from the sweat on her forehead.

“Same here, I can’t believe I didn’t think to put my hair up this morning." You could feel the sweat dripping down the base of your neck.

As soon as you reached the dock, you took charge and ensured that everyone in your group was fully aware of all the water safety rules. You then conducted a final head count of all the campers before jumping into the water yourselves.

Robin was the first to take the plunge, diving headfirst into the refreshing water. Despite the initial shock of the cold water, she resurfaced with a huge grin on her face, her teeth chattering with excitement.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” she squealed.

“Oh god, I don’t want to do it now,” you laughed as you stripped off your jean shorts.

Just as you were removing your clothes, Eddie, Steve, and Ashton came running around the corner, unable to stay in the heat themselves. Due to the hot weather, Eddie tied his long hair back, and his light grey shirt turned dark grey from sweat. They had just changed into their swimming trunks.

“Hey, look, the girls,” Ashton pointed to you and Robin.

Eddie had stopped dead in his tracks as he watched you. It was like you were moving in slow motion.

You still were taking your shorts off. Eddie watched as your peach of an ass bent over to step out of your shorts, your back arching as you peeled off the t-shirt. You wore your red bikini with little white hearts matched perfectly with the little heart inked into the skin on your right butt cheek.

Hold up, what? Eddie’s brain short-circuited. You not only have a tattoo, but an ass tattoo?

“Dude, hello, Earth to Eddie,” Steve was snapping his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

“ Huh, what?” Eddie reluctantly peeled his eyes away from you.

“You’d been staring at her for like five minutes, bro; just ask her out already.” Ashton laughed.

“Was not five minutes"

“So you admit you’re staring?” Steve smirks.

“How could I not? Don’t you have eyes?”

The guys laughed, and Eddie continued his gaze back to you when he saw Billy approaching you from the right. Eddie felt a sudden possessiveness over you when it came to that guy. He never liked Billy from the start. His off-putting comment and how he looked at you like he wanted to eat you were unsettling.

Eddie didn’t waste another second thinking about it; he started to run towards you, kicking off his slides and tossing his shirt before he grabbed you by the waist and flung you both into the water, laughing.

-

You weren’t paying attention to the boys behind you; honestly, you had no idea they were even there. You were too focused on working up the courage to finally jump in. Robin tried to convince you when you heard your name being called.

“Bambi, damn girl, you’re looking hotter than last year.” You turned and rolled your eyes immediately. Out of all people, Billy. You watched in disgust as he was ogling you while licking his lips.

Before you could even reply, a force pushed you into the freezing water.

When you breach the surface, you profusely try to catch your breath, looking around to see what the fuck just happened.

Your first instinct was to blame Billy for pushing you in.

“What the fuck Coyote?!” You were freezing, and the drastic temperature change had your teeth chattering.

“It wasn’t me!” his hands when up in defence.

You believe him, so you start looking around because he couldn't have, and you swore another person had jumped into the lake with you.

“Sorry, Princess. As your knight, I must fulfill my duty to you to save you.” A whisper echoed in your ear.

You let out a small scream, startled by his closeness, but when your heart settled, your flesh rose in goosebumps, not because of the cold of the lake water. Strong hands touch your waits turning you around to face your ‘saviour’

“Oh, my hero,” you fake swoon.

Eddie laughed, his head tipped all the way back so his hair was touching the water, his thick neck exposed, sending you into a daydream of leaving many a mark on that neck, but your thots were halted by Eddie pushing down on your head, dunking you back into the water.

“Edward Munson, I swear to God!” You screamed when you popped back up out of the water.

“Oh, my government name? You wound me, Princess.” He grabbed his chest like he had a knife in his heart.

You started to swim towards him, but the cold lake water was starting to numb your limbs. You couldn’t move fast enough; your teeth were still chattering, and Eddie could hear how cold you were.

“I'm sorry, Princess. I need to redeem myself.” He reached out and pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms around the small of your waist.

“You better be.” You shivered.

“Come, let's get you warmed up in the sun.”

He hopped out of the water, not even having to use the ladder. He reached down, holding out his hand to help you out, but you yanked him back down, and he fell head-first back into the water.

Eddie could only hear your laugh when he broke through the surface.

“I guess I deserved that.” He shook his head like a wet dog.

You were already halfway up the ladder when you felt his gaze on you. Eddie watched as you climbed up; he trialled right behind you, giving him a great view of the tattoo he wanted to know more about.

You quickly ran over to the towel that had been warmed by the sun. Shivering, you crouched down and sat in a ball to cover yourself with the whole towel.

“Come ‘er Princess, let's get you warmed up.” Eddie sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders with his own towel to cover you both before he started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to help you get warm.

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. Between the sun and Eddie, you warmed you up in no time.

You were at peace, the smell of coconut sunscreen, the sounds of splashing in the water, the warm feeling you were getting because Eddie was not only touching you, but hugging you.

“There you go, your majesty, all better,” Eddie smirked.

“You’re really not going to give up this joke, are you?” You laughed.

“Not in a million years, Princess.”

-

You and the girls were busily getting ready for a cozy after-the-bonfire hangout with the boys in the mess hall. You were there setting up some snacks and drinks on the table, and the soft glow of the fairy lights hanging on the walls added to the warm ambiance of the room.

Meanwhile, Eddie and his cabin were chatting and laughing, looking forward to the evening. As the night grew darker, they realized it was already 10:00 pm, and they needed to do one last check on the campers to make sure they were sound asleep. Once it was all calre the guys made their way to the mess hall.

“So you and Julie seem to be getting pretty close.” With his flashlight under his chin, Ashton wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie shoves his shoulder lightly, laughing in response.

“I don’t know, man. I know her from home, is all.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, dude! You totally couldn’t keep your hands off her at the lake today; I saw you,” Ashton accused.

“Well, have you seen her? And I think she has been flirty with me? I don't know...she confuses me,” Eddie admitted, thinking back on earlier this morning when he thought you almost kissed him.

It's not like Eddie didn't want to believe it, it's that he can't believe it. Why do you, out of all people, want to be with him?

“I would go for it, dude, trust me. She is my best girl-friend, and I shouldn’t say anything, so I won’t, but if I were you, I would ask her out.” Steve joined in.

“You shouldn’t say anything? What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked as they opened the doors to the hall.

“Sorry, man, sworn to secrecy, but trust me, bro.”

“Don't ever trust Moose.” Robin giggled, not knowing the context of the conversation.

“Hey, boys,” you smiled.

Eddie’s eyes met yours, and he smiled back, but his smile dropped when he saw Billy sitting beside you. Billy was like a mosquito who wouldn't leave you alone; he gave you no personal space even though you were seated at a twenty-foot-long picnic table.

He tried his best to ignore Billy; you had already said you didn’t like him, so why did Eddie feel jealous?

Instead, Eddie tried to focus all his attention on you, so he sat directly across from you. Eddie thought you looked cute tonight. Your natural hair was wrapped up in a messy bun, but shorter pieces framing your face.

You wore a heather grey Camp Murdock oversized crewneck sweater, blue and green plaid flannel pyjama pants, and pink fuzzy socks. He liked that you felt comfortable enough to not try hard like you do back home. Back home, he never saw your hair out of place or your outfit not coordinated. Not that Eddie didn't like that version of you, but he likes this version a whole lot more. It made you feel more real and less of this superhuman that the town dubbed you as.

“What are we playing today?” Eddie asked.

“A good old game of truth or dare,” Robin smiled.

“Oh god,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We have a little something extra to make it fun,” You smiled while showing the group the pre-rolled joint you pulled out of your pyjama pants pocket.

Eddie smirked at the thought of you, goodie two shoes, and buying weed. Then, his thought process changed… Who else would you get weed from if not him?

“The fuck you get that?” Eddie didn’t intend for it to be that harsh, but it slipped out like word vomit. Could this be trusted? How did he know it wasn’t laced or tainted.

“Oh, uh, I know a local guy.” Your smile dropped, and Eddie watched as you curled into yourself.

Fuck.

“Better be up to this guy’s standards,” Billy pointed to Eddie, only making it worse.

“You’re lucky I’m even sharing with you.”

“Let’s just start, guys, jeez.” Robin rolled her eyes.

You lit up first then passed it to Billy. Eddie seethed that he got it first. He almost grabbed it right from your hands but he knew he needed to control himself…

The game went on, and the typical stuff happened: streaking, truths about the first kiss, and chugging a combination of ketchup, mustard, and mayo. The joint was getting down to a nub, and it was really starting to take effect. The mood had been lifted, and Eddie noticed how you and the others were getting more giggly, whispering and plotting the next truths and dares.

Steve was up next, and he turned to you.

“Truth or dare?” Steve asks with a smirk.

“Truth,” you say confidently.

“Who was the last guy to give you an orgasm?” He gives you the biggest tooth smile.

Eddie’s ears perk up, his attention locked in. The bubbling feeling of jealousy almost formed again, but it disappeared as soon as you spoke your answer.

“No one.” You blushed.

“Come on, no one believes you, Bambi.” Steve retorts.

“I’m serious! Now shut up it's my turn.” You huffed.

Eddie was not surprised you’re a virgin; if you had slept with anyone, everyone in Hawkins would have known about it.

It sounds wrong, but Eddie was relieved when you said no one. Nobody would be able to please you like he could. The things Eddie wanted to do to you, worship you, take care of you…

“Eddie, hello! earth to Eddie!” Your voice snaps Eddie out of his daydreams.

“Huh? What?”

“Truth or dare,” you smile at him.

“Dare,” Eddie smirked.

“I dare you to kiss…Billy.” You, Robin, and Nancy burst into a fit of giggles like you’ve been plotting.

“I’ll kiss literaly any other guy. Try again, sweetheart.” Eddie sees you try to hide your smile at the pet name. Noted.

"Hey! What's wrong with me?"

"Everything..." Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Come here, big guy, let me plant one on ya." Billy began to chase Eddie around the room, and you, along with everyone else, couldn't hold in your giggles. It was really good weed.

-

The night rolled on, and everyone had to return to their cabins before you knew it.

“Well, boys, I am never skinny dipping at night again. I think my dick shrunk back into my body. Fuck, that lake is cold!” Ashton laughed.

“I never want to see those hairy cheeks again,” Eddie joined.

“I can’t believe what Bambi said, can you?” Steve piped up.

“About what?” Eddie asked.

“That no guy has ever gotten her off. You would think at least one would, you know” Steve exclaimed while brushing his teeth.

“Maybe that’s why she is acting like she has a stick up her ass; I can show her a good time, maybe replace that stick with mine, if you know what I mean.” Billy joked, cupping his crotch as he was getting his pyjamas on.

The joke wasn’t funny; the thought of any guy touching you made Eddie's knuckles go white. His face dropped into a sneer for a split second, but he caught himself. Fucking hell, Munson pulled it together.

“Shut up, dude. She wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” Ashton laughed as he lay in his bunk.

“Oh yeah, we will see. She will come around.” He winked, and Eddie felt the s’mores in his stomach start to churn.

Eddie was about to let Steve know that there was no way on God's green earth that you had slept with someone, but his attention was shifted when Steve spoke again.

“Word is she likes someone,” Steve dropped casually as he climbed into his top bunk.

That caught the three men’s attention; they whipped around simultaneously, and all Steve could do was laugh.

“You guys are something else.” He chuckled and laid down to go to sleep.

Maybe Ashton was right; maybe his ever-growing crush on you was too obvious. Maybe he should dial it back more...

-

As the sun sets over Camp Murdock, the anticipation builds for the evening's main event - the camper's talent show. You, Eddie, and Steve have been chosen as the judges for the show, and it's an exciting responsibility. The venue for the show is the old barn on the property. You have carefully set up rows of chairs and cleared a decent patch of the floor to create a makeshift stage. The rustic and charming barn is adorned with twinkle lights that create a warm and cozy atmosphere. A folding table is placed before the judges, where they will take notes and make their final decisions.

As the kids prepare backstage, their nervous energy is palpable. The makeshift backstage area is just an old curtain hanging on a rod by the back right wall. You can hear the campers giggling and screaming in excitement and nervousness. Despite their jitters, they are ready to showcase their talents and make the night memorable for everyone.

You sat in the middle with Steve and Eddie on either other side of you.

“Are you going to strut your stuff up there later tonight?” you asked Eddie quietly, giggling.

To your surprise, he didn’t give you much of an answer, a grunt and a shrug of his shoulders.

That was weird; Eddie had been so warm yesterday. This was your first time seeing him today; maybe he’s tired?

You tried shaking it off, wanting to focus on the kids.

“They all did well. It was so cute to see them perform their dances and songs. One kid did a magic show, and another just showed off his rock collection. Ultimately, one of Eddie’s campers, who had a beautiful singing voice, won the talent show. As a consolation prize, everyone who participated got ice cream. After all the celebrations, everyone went to bed, and it was time for the counsellors to have their own talent show.

You're incredibly nervous this year because you have decided to do something bold. You haven’t told anyone about it, not even Nancy or Robin. It’s evident to anyone who knows you that you’ll be dancing tonight, but it’s usually a ballet number. However, tonight is different. You are determined to make your move and not waste more precious time.

You carefully rummaged through your bag, removing the skin-tight pleather black booty shorts and a shiny red, cropped tank top. You loved the way the two pieces hugged your curves, making you feel both sexy and confident.

Next, you moved to the bathroom and began styling your hair. You wanted to create a voluminous look, so you used a curling iron to add bouncy curls that cascaded down your back. You then applied makeup, starting with a base of foundation and concealer. You added smoky black eyeliner to your upper and lower lids and finished the look with bold red lipstick that made your lips pop.

As soon as you feel prepared and all set, you slip into your cozy grey sweatpants over your shorts, taking care to secure yourself from the pesky bugs outside. You then slide your feet into your sleek black dancing heels and grab your cassette tape.

Robin was the first to see you when you returned to the barn.

“Shut the fuck up; what are you doing?” she asked most affectionately. A growing smirk spreads across her face as you turn.

“You’ll see.” Your confidence was helping a little, but deep down, you were terrified. You’ve been so nervous you think you might be sick.

As the talent show kicked off, you were excited to spend the evening with Eddie, but he seemed distant. Despite your best attempts at conversation, Eddie remained quiet and disinterested in engaging with you. Later, when you tried to talk to him again, he brushed you off, leaving you feeling hurt and confused. You hoped that his behaviour was just a temporary mood, but the fear of failure lingered in the back of your mind. If the plan you had been working on together didn't come to fruition, you knew you would be mortified.

As the show went on, you unfortunately had the pleasure of going dead last. Eddie wasn’t a judge this time, but he was still sitting in the front row. Perfect.

As the host, Mike, asked for your tape to be put into the casket player, he saw your hands visibly shaking.

“Bambi, relax. It's just for fun; you do this every year. We all love your little ballerina stuff,” he smiled.

“Do I look like I’m dressed to do ballet— know what, never mind?” You didn’t mean to be snappy; Mike had always been nice to you.

As he walked out on “stage” to announce the next performance, you stepped off your sweats, pulled the zipper up the side of the black high heels and prayed that you wouldn’t fall flat on your face in front of Eddie.

“Last but certainly not least, we have a crowd favourite!” The audience, your fellow colleagues, clapped as you walked out. You heard someone whistle, most likely Robin and your stomach flip-flopped.

You walk out and face the back wall, standing in a bevel, arms hanging by your side, waiting for the chords to start.

The first notes of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love dripped from the speakers.

Your body moved seductively once the music hit like you were in a trace performance mode.

Were you worried some of the other girls would call you a slut? Absolutely, but once the music started, all that went away.

You began dancing like you had when Eddie caught you in the studio that first day, but this time, with the hair, makeup, and shoes, you were more confident than you'd ever been.

A-way, way down inside

A-honey you need-ah

I'm gonna give you my love, ah

I'm gonna give you my love, ah oh

The rush of being on stage made you lose yourself in the routine, however the part you had been most nervous about was coming up.

A-way, way down inside

You stood facing the crowd with your head thrown back, your right hand ran down your stomach, grazing past the waistband of your shorts that hardly covered anything, down cupping your core, then slinked it back up again.

I'm gonna give ya my love

Your head snaps back up, and you took a slow strut forward.

I'm gonna give ya every inch of my love

another slow step forward

I'm gonna give ya my love

You reached your target as you slowly sank to your knees right where Eddie was sitting. Giving him a small wink before you whipped your hair, you looked back up at him through your lashes, and you saw his jaw was clenched, and his hands were balled up white-knuckling.

You reached up with a single hand and grazed it over his left thigh before slinking back down to roll away and get back to the rest of the routine.

By the time you had finished, you were out of breath. Everyone cheered, and a few whistles were made as you walked off stage, but when you looked around, Eddie was gone.

Your heart sank. The overwhelming feeling of embarrassment washed over you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

Of course, he wouldn’t want you in that way.

You were a fool to think he ever would.

You were naive to think changing your appearance to be like the edgier sexy chicks he probably goes for. You literally pulled a Sandy for Grease. You tried putting yourself out there, doing this dance, but now you felt the tears welling up; the lump in your throat grew. You felt like an idiot.

You needed air. You took off your shoes, put your pants back on, and walked out the barn's back door.

“Bambi, wait up.”

You turn to see Billy.

“Uh, hey,” You try to keep your voice as neutral as possible, forcing yourself not to let it crack.

“You were amazing up there!” He smiled and gave an encouraging hug.

“Thanks, Coyote, that's really sweet for you to say.” You sniffled.

“Hey, are you okay?” he pulled away to see your tears threatening to leave the rims of your lash line. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t cry; everyone thought you rocked it!” He pulled you into another comforting hug.

This was the most genuine Billy’s been with you all summer. This was the Billy you knew and loved last summer.

“You really think so?” you ask trying to pull yourself together.

“Yes! Of course; what’s gotten into you?” He looked concerned.

“Nerves, I guess.” You try to shrug it off, but you can’t shake the feeling.

“Well you did amazing, you won!” He gave me a congratulatory kiss on the cheek; it was soft and hardly grazed your skin.

“Thank you.” You pulled him in for another hug. You just needed a friend right now, and I missed this version of Billy.

“You know there is another way I can make you feel better.” He chuckled.

“And the moment ruined, ugh. Why do you do that?” he laughed as you stepped away.

-

You found Cassie and the other girls back at the cabin.

“Hey guys.” You sniffled as you walked to your bed.

“Babe, you were amazing up there! Who knew you could move like that!” Clover cheered.

“You are one hot Mamma!” Nancy giggled.

“Bam, what’s wrong?” Robin asked after you hadn’t really said anything back. She came to sit beside you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“It’s silly…” tears threatening to run down your cheeks once again.

“Hey, it’s just us." Nancy reached over and touched your hand.

You let out a heavy sigh.

“I feel like such an idiot! I did that whole thing to get Eddie’s attention, but he was gone before I even finished dancing.” You hid your face in your hands, too embarrassed to look at your friends.

“If you ask me, he looked like he was trying to contain himself. Girl, you did that to him with no warning! Hell, even I wanted to jump your bones just watching you.” Robin giggled.

“Really? Do you think so? You don’t think he was mad or put off? I saw his face—he looked annoyed. Like he was uncomfortable. Even earlier, he was cold to me.” You grabbed a tissue and blotted away your blackened tears.

“Nah, Bams, he looked like a man trying not to pop a boner, especially when you touched his thighs! Holy shit, I thought he would blow his load right there.”

Nancy managed to pull a laugh off of you.

“Thanks, guys; I think I'll feel better in the morning.” you sighed and gave them each a hug, then got ready for bed.

Next chapter

Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @paybacksawitch

[xxzlushiez]

Domestic Bliss

2023! B. Kaulitz x GN! reader

Synopsis: just wanted to write some comforting headcanons about 2023 Bill bc he’s just soooo💙💙

Notes: nothing really, fluff, comfort, showers together, ft: Tom, Georg, Gustav & Heidi

A/N: wanted to whip smth up while trying to come up w ideas💀 requests open😭

- So I’ve been dying to do this so let’s just start off with nightly routines

- After dinner or whatever you both do before bed he makes you both do skincare together

- We all know his skin is as clear asf so he always shows you what he uses and loves to use it on you too

- After you headbutt each other on who gets to brush their teeth first if you only have one sink😭

- I feel generally he likes to be pampered in bed so that means your usually holding him

- But sometimes if he’s feeling especially clingy he’ll be the big spoon

- He’s a early bird

- The exact opposite of when he was a kid it kinda just switched

- His mind is always buzzing and so when he wakes up he is just always moving around

- But when he’s feeling particularly slow like a day after a concert he’ll just watch you sleep or play with your hair

- Admiring you

- When he’s really tired he’s a HEAVY sleeper and so he’ll kick and spread out completely

- One time he shoved you off the bed and felt so bad

- Cradled you like a baby

- It hurt him more than it hurt you honestly💀

- Tried to wrap you in bandages but you had to hold him down to get him to stop😭

- installed the fluffiest carpet after so the impact wouldn’t hurt as much💀💀

- In the morning he loves to cook the most

- Has a shelf dedicated to cook books

- chooses a new dish for you both to try each day

- From different flavored waffles to the most extravagant, tropical meals you could never even think of

- Finds it endearing when you cook with him

- You both just move around each other so effortlessly in the kitchen it’s kinda amazing

- If you somehow wake up before him which is almost impossible and make him breakfast he’s just all over it

- Hugging you while you cook and taking pictures of you

- Always posting you two on Instagram

- Tom and Heidi comment the cutest things on his posts

- @heidiklum Vous êtes beaux tous les deux!! (You both look beautiful)

- @tomkaulitz ❤️

- Naturally you got close to the band because he’s around them the most

- Heidi and you became BEST friends and always surprised the twins with silly things like double dates and mini vacations

- He’s a ‘photos for memories’ guy as we all know and you catch him snapping a pic of you doing minuscule things everyday

- Very affectionate and likes to bring you places you usually wouldn’t go to without him

- Your opinion matters so much to him so he likes taking you with him to go shopping and tries on outfits for you

- asking for your suggestions 24/7

- “Are you sure you like this one Liebchen?”

- “Does this make my butt look small?”

- At home he likes to just lounge around with you

- When showering or taking a bath he’s likes letting you lean against him

- Washes your hair for you even if you don’t ask him too

- Brings you on stage because he likes to show you off

- Fans makes the cutest posters of you guys

- Praising you is his fav activity “Aren’t they so cute guys?! ich liebe dich so sehr”

- Fans love you so much

- They go crazy when you’re randomly pulled on stage during a show

- Leans against you when he’s singing

- Unconsciously gives everyone fan service with how he acts with you onstage

[xspeter]

TIME AFTER TIME

Chapter three ❣︎ that boy is mine

i’m sorry that you, seem to be confused

he belongs to me, that boy is mine

❧ warnings: reader gets a drink thrown on her, but that’s really all! some mentions of sex (but nothing happens)

❧ wc: 3.6k

❧ Note: sorry for the long wait guys !!! school was kicking my butt, but i’m on spring break now!!

❧ masterlist

♥︎

You feel stunned for a moment. Which, honestly, you’re not sure if it’s because you so boldly asked Steve to fake-date you with barely any forethought, or if it’s because Steve agreed to it almost immediately.

“So you’re, um, you’re sure?” You stammer, cheeks beginning to flush.

Steve just shrugs, “Yeah, I guess. I mean it’s like you said- I wanna show Nance I can be the guy she wants.” He rubs the back of his neck, eyes avoidant.

You hum, nodding your head. So you were doing this. Okay. Great.

Suddenly there’s a crash followed by a harsh yell, and you’re reminded of the fact that you’re quite literally at a raging highschool party. You clear your throat, “We should probably..”

Steve nods more aggressively, “Yeah, okay, let’s go.” He doesn’t even hesitate before he’s grabbing your wrist and forcing you inside the house, and you wish you’d never gone in.

It’s so loud, people scream way too explicit songs, girls dressed in the tiniest short-shorts and baby-tees (practically the opposite of your purple dress), and the boys are shirtless and downing bottles of alcohol like it’s apple juice.

“Jeez..” You mutter, unconsciously standing closer to Steve.

He chuckles, a knowing smirk tugging on his lips, “You okay, princess?”

You resist an eye roll, the nickname was anything but new to you. “How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?”

He furrows his brows and points to his ear, not so-subtly leaning closer to you, he says, “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

You scoff and shove past him, taking the lead confidently. Where you’re going, you’re not sure, but you figure your best bet to fit in is to head towards the kitchen where all the drinks are being served.

You cautiously make your way through countless sweaty bodies, praying Steve is still following you and didn’t leave you stranded.

You turn around to make sure he’s still there and - he’s not. “Oh my god.” You grumble, eyes darting across the room, but there’s so many bodies you can’t even spot Steve in the crowd. “Shit.” You whisper. Suddenly you feel self-conscious. You weren’t used to being at a party like this with Steve let alone by yourself.

You take a breath and continue on your path. You assume if Steve wants to find you he’ll meet you there, and if not then… well, you’re not very sure.

There’s multiple boxes of canned beers along with a giant punch bowl. You aren’t sure what your chances are that the punch isn’t spiked, but the atmosphere is making you feel dehydrated, so you take your chances and grab a cup.

You swirl it in your hands for a few moments, before you finally decide to just down the whole thing. You immediately wish you hadn’t. It tastes bitter and you shiver as it slides down your throat. “God,” You cough, “What's in this?”

“I heard some guy earlier say ‘pure fuel’. Not sure how helpful that is though.” You whip your head around and are met with the sight of the very man you’d been hoping for. Jonathon.

You feel your lips subconsciously twitch into a smile, “More like pure vodka.” You joke. Jonathon chuckles and stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, and you honestly have no idea how he’s even wearing that thing with all the body heat in the house.

“I didn’t think you’d show.” He says, and you shrug and lean against the counter, “Were you waiting for me?” You nearly surprise yourself with your boldness. Maybe you should go to parties more often.

“Of course I was,” Jonathon says casually, “We’ve barely seen each other since I moved back.”

You hum, cheeks flushing a little at Jonathon’s casual answer. It’s like he doesn’t even know the effect he has on you.

“Yeah.” You hum. The conversation goes silent after that, Jonathon sips on his beer casually while you stare at the ground. It’s weird, you’ve imagined yourself in this exact scenario so many times. You’d always know what to say to charm him, but now that it’s actually reality you find the words getting stuck on your tongue.

“Oh,” Jonathon nods his head to something behind you, “there’s Steve.” You turn around and promptly find the said man to be in what looks to be a very uncomfortable conversation with Tina Tarsden, a girl who was very well known for her obsession with Steve.

Jonathon walks past you silently, most likely on his way to attempt to save Steve from the conversation, and you awkwardly follow behind.

Steve clearly looks relieved once he catches sight of Jonathon. You’re hidden behind him, which means neither Steve or Tina are aware of your presence.

“Hey, man!” Steve says, “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

Tina scrunches her nose at the interruption and takes a bitter sip of her beer. “Jonathon,” She drawls, placing a hand on his bicep. It makes your blood boil. “How’re you and Nancy?”

Jonathon shifts uncomfortably on his feet, “Uh, fine. I guess.” He mutters. Tina just hums, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Have you heard about Steve’s latest whore?”

Suddenly you feel like this is a conversation you’re not meant to be present for, but you need to know if news about yours and Steve’s “relationship” has really already spread that quickly. Jonathon laughs awkwardly, “Uh, no. I haven’t heard about Steve’s latest… fling.” His voice jumps an octave at the end.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, clearly annoyed, he says, “Tina, i’ve told you this a thousand times! Who I date isn’t any of your business.” He sighs, “I'm sorry I'm not into you like you’re into me, but you just need to get over it.”

Tina grips the plastic cup in her hand tighter, cheeks flushing with rage. “I’d agree if you weren’t dating that prude Y/N L/N!”

Now, after her very rude and untrue comment, you think it’s a good moment to make yourself known. You move from behind Jonathon, arms crossed over your chest as you shoot Tina an icy glare. “This whole jealousy thing really isn’t a good look for you, Tina.”

Her jaw drops tightly but she’s quick to pick it up. Her eyes are burning with a rage you'd rarely ever seen pointed at you. “You bitch.” She mutters, taking a step closer to you. Steve watches her cautiously, clearly ready to step in at any moment. Jonathon on the other hand is shocked. “You guys are dating? Since when?” He asks.

You exchange a look with Steve over his question. Neither of you had really discussed your timeline or even how this fake relationship had started yet. Steve makes up a quick excuse, “Uh, I'll tell you another time, man.” Jonathon accepts this answer, but Tina does not.

“I mean, you can do so much better than this… child!” Tina growls, pointing a manicured finger at you. “Look at that dress she’s wearing!”

By this point a small crowd has begun to form around the four of you, and you shift uncomfortably under the weight of everyone’s stares. You look down at your dress, “What’s wrong with what I'm wearing?” You mutter to yourself. Sure, you’ve always known your style to be a little different to most kids your age, but you’d never been criticized about it before.

Tina scoffs, “You dress like an eighty year old grandma!”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Well, last I checked Steve chose this grandma and not you..” You spit back.

Steve laughs at this, but covers it with a cough as soon as Tina turns around and shoots him a hard glare. “I doubt Steve chose you,” She says, voice dripping with venom, “He probably just needed a quick and easy fuck. You guys are neighbors aren’t you?”

Her implication makes you angrier than you were before. To have Tina Tarsden, the biggest slut in Hawkins, imply that you were putting out so easily is laughable.

You step closer to her, “If Steve wanted a quick and easy fuck, all he’d have to do is whistle and you’d come running.”

Tina does not like this reply at all. Actually, she dislikes it so much that she throws her drink at you. The cold liquid soaks through your dress and ruins your hair and makeup. You stand there dripping onto the hardwood for a couple seconds in pure shock, and by the time you come to and go to retaliate you find that Tina has already walked away. Instead, both Steve and Jonathon are in front of you.

“Shit, are you okay?” Jonathon asks, hand reaching for your bicep to hold you steady. Your eyes shine at him, but if it’s because of the oncoming tears or the lighting you’re not sure.

You know you pushed Tina. You stooped to her level and caused her to become so enraged she threw her drink at you. But, still, you loved this dress. You loved it more than you loved yourself. And now it reeked of alcohol and had a large light brown stain right on the front of it.

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay.” You mumble, hands shaking slightly as you ball them at your side. “Here i’ll take you home-” Jonathon begins, but Steve stops him. “I got it. Besides, you’ve been drinking. I haven’t touched any alcohol tonight.”

Jonathon nods, “Yeah. Right. I forgot you guys were dating now.” He says it questioningly, like the idea had never crossed his mind as even being a possibility, and honestly, it’d never crossed your own before tonight either.

Steve shoots him a tight smile, before he’s gently reaching around your middle to cup your waist and lead you out of the house. You blindly follow him, mind too preoccupied on the night's events to even notice how large Steve’s hands feel on you. How warm they are against your now freezing skin.

As you walk through the weaves and weaves of people, you aren’t sure if the girl you see walking in Jonathon’s direction is Nancy or just your mind playing a trick on you. You’re hoping and praying it’s the latter.

You barely even register Steve softly ushering you into his car, not until it’s already in motion and the heaters blast onto your cold skin. You wince at the coldness, and reach forward to turn them away from you. Steve mumbles a sorry from beside you, and you turn to look at him and the smile he’s very clearly holding back. You sit in silence for a few more moments, before he glances at you from the corner of his eye and suddenly you’re both bursting out in laughter from the situation.

“She- she dumped her drink on me!” You say between breaths, holding your stomach as you cackle. Steve does his best to keep his eyes on the road as he does the same, “I seriously didn’t know you had it in you, princess! I mean, ‘he’d whistle and you’d come running’ that was comedy gold!”

Your giggling dies out slowly, and silence replaces it. You know there’s so many things you need to talk about, but you’re not sure if now is the right time. But before you can speak up Steve’s already pulling into your driveway.

You swallow, “So, when should we, um, talk about… this.” You gesture between both of you awkwardly.

Steve clears his throat, “I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

You smile, “Okay.” And then you bid him goodnight.

🝮

Your dress was ruined. You’d spent a good portion of last night attempting to get it out with Monica’s help to no avail.

You stare at it sadly now, wondering if there was anything you could do to save it. After a couple more moments of contemplating you decide there isn’t, and promptly throw it in the garbage. You’ll have a funeral for it soon.

“I’m sorry, babes.” Monica murmurs from beside you, rubbing your arm comfortingly. You shrug her off, “It’s just a dress. There’ll be others.”

Monica nods, and you pretend you don’t see the disappointment in her face at your subtle rejection. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m glad you’re being so level headed about this, I definitely wouldn’t be.” She jokes.

You give a strained chuckle, hoping to break the awkward tension that fills the space between the both of you. Newsflash, it doesn’t.

Monica looks as uncomfortable as you feel. “Look, Y/N, I know I’m not-”

Suddenly the doorbell rings and you practically jump up to answer it. Monica sighs but doesn’t say anything as you walk away from her. You subconsciously thank god for saving you from an awkward conversation you lost definitely did not want to have.

Unsurprisingly, Steve waits on the other side of the door. His hair is slightly messy and he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans, and compared to his usual school clothes this is much more casual. You on the other hand had stuck with a pretty white dress and a pair of black converse.

“You should’ve called before you just showed up.” You mumble, but still step to the side and let him in.

Steve just shrugs, “I’ll remember that next time.”

No, he won’t. You just roll your eyes in response.

Steve stumbles into your living room and plops himself onto the couch, where you had laid out a single notebook and two pens.

“What’s this for?” Steve asks.

You take a breath and sit next to him, “This,” You say, smoothing your dress over your knees, “Is our contract.”

Steve raises a brow, “Contract?”

“Yes, contract. Because I’ll be damned if we say one wrong thing and expose ourselves to the whole school.”

“I think you’re being a little over dramatic about this whole thing.”

“You say that, and then at our twenty year reunion people are going to be asking you about that one time you faked a relationship and it totally backfired.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Okay, whatever.”

You smile approvingly. If only Steve was this complacent all the time. “I think we should start out with some ground rules.” You say.

Steve nods and leans forward to grab a pen, “Okay. I’ll write down the first one.”

You’re a little surprised by his initiative, but allow him to do so.

You soon regret it though, because the first rule he writes says “must change wardrobe”.

You immediately go to take the notebook and scribble the rule off, but Steve snatches it away from you. “Hey, hey! A rule is a rule!”

“We’ll, that’s a stupid rule!”

He scoffs, “It is not!” He winces, “Look, as much as I hate to admit it, Tina was a little bit right about your outfits. Then make you look like a grandma.”

You scoff out a laugh, your jaw dropping. “Was this seriously a thing that no one had thought to tell you before? Were they just gonna let you love the rest of your life dressed as a ninety year old woman? You’d never let Steve know that his words got under your skin, so instead you retorted with, “Well, it’s not like you have the best style known to man either.”

Steve shrugs, “I never said I did.”

You stare at him, hoping that at some point he’ll break, but he doesn’t, instead he just stares back.

After wait feels like forever you finally just throw your arms up and say, “Fine! I’ll go shopping.”

Steve tuts, “I don’t trust you to do that by yourself, so I’ll be going with you.”

You scoff, “No way! I’ll just take Robin.”

Steve grimaces and thinks about Robins denim jackets and platform shoes, “Yeah, that’s a no.”

You groan and flop back into the couch, “You suck, you know that?”

Steve just grins, “And yet, you asked me to date you.”

“Fake date, get it right, Harrington.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, and instead puts the notebook in your lap, “I think it’s your turn.”

You didn’t know this turned into a turn-taking thing, but you don’t argue.

For the second rule you write down what you think is the most obvious one, no one can know. Not even your families.

Steve doesn’t argue with this one, he just hums and practically snatches the notebook from you to write down the third rule. Must drive to school together. You find this one to be a little odd, but seeing as you’ve never been the biggest fan of driving, you don’t object.

Now it’s your turn, and you have a weird feeling this one might be a little controversial with Steve. No kissing.

Steve immediately disagrees, “How's anyone gonna believe we’re dating if I can’t kiss you?”

“We’ll just say we’re taking things slow!”

Steve gives you a pointed look, and you sigh. “What if.. you only miss me on the cheek?” Another look.

“You’re not going to make me change my mind.” You say.

Steve groans, “Fine! We’ll stick to.. cheek-kissing or whatever.”

You smile gratefully and hand the paper back to Steve, but he just shrugs and hands it back to you. Since neither of you have anything else to add, you scribble to lines at the bottom and sign your name.

Steve snorts, “This is so dorky.” But he does the same.

“Alright, now we need to get our stories straight.” You sigh, arms crossing over your chest.

Steve just shrugs, “Well just say we decided to start dating on a random tuesday afternoon. There, easy.”

“What’re you gonna say when people ask what led to the conversation, or when we realized we didn’t hate each other anymore, huh?”

Steve groans, “Fine. What do you think we should say?”

You smile, “I’m so glad you asked. I thought about it last night, and I think we should say you realized you had feelings for me a couple weeks ago and then ran to my house in the pouring rain and confessed your love for me.”

“We’re not saying that.”

You frown, “Why not? It’s cute!”

Steve shakes his head, “Because this ain’t one your cheesy rom-coms. Why don’t we just say you were helping me out with a project and we realized we didn’t hate each other and decided to give a relationship a try.”

You hated to admit it, but Steve was right. That sounded way more believable. “Okay. Fine. Whenever. We’ll stick with your boring story.”

Steve just grins, “Atta girl.”

You both sit in silence for a few moments, the paper sitting idiot in front of you. Suddenly, you smack your hands on your knees, “This has been so much fun but I think it’s time you went home!”

Steve furrows his brows, “What do you mean? We’re going shopping together.”

That's how you find yourself in your current position, following Steve as he pushes a cart through Kohls.

Every piece of clothing he’s pointed out to you has been completely out of your comfort zone, but you allowed him to stuff them into the cart anyway.

You draw the straw at a tank top covered in yellow sunflowers. Not like, just one in the middle, no. There was not a single space without a sunflower on it.

“I will never wear that.”

Steve wiggles it in front of you, “Come on, it’s cute!”

“It’d be even cuter in hell.”

Steve just chuckles and tosses it back onto the rack, “We probably have enough stuff already anyway.” You sigh, hoping Steve takes it as a signal that you’re ready to be done with this and just go home. While yes, he does understand that the overflowing cart is most definitely enough stuff, he doesn’t understand that you’re ready to go home. Instead, he leads you to a dressing room.

“I’m not trying on all of that! It’ll take me hours!”

Steve just shrugs, “You better get started then.”

You go to argue, but he just shakes his pointer finger at you, “Rule number one, sweetheart.”

You hate that he’s right, and you hate yourself even more for even agreeing to that stupid rule.

You dramatically grab a handful of clothes, two pairs of jeans and three crop tops, and walk into the dressing room with them.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way the jeans made your ass look, and two of the crop tops actually aren’t that bad.

You yell at Steve to hand you another set of outfits, but he tells you to just get them yourself. God, why are men so lazy?

You exit the dressing room still wearing the jeans and a black, off the shoulder crop top.

Steve looks up from the floor once he hears the door open, and he nods. “Yeah,” He lets out a wolf-whistle, “You look great.”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment, something you’d never expected to hear from Steve Harrington. “Funny you think I care what you think.” You retort.

Steve just shrugs “I never said you did, I was just saying,” He eyes you up and down, brown eyes lingering on your curves, “You look good.”

You just roll your eyes and slam the dressing room door in his face, hoping and praying he doesn’t see the way your cheeks and ears had tinged a soft shade of red.

Besides, Steve Harrington is still that annoying kid you’d met all those years ago. There’s no reason for you to be blushing at some compliment he didn’t even mean.

And yet, you are.

♥︎

taglist! (dm to be added!): @carinacassiopeiae

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Clone wars headcanons that took me forever to edit

I feel like my last couple of headcanons have been mushy so I’ve decided to write some shit Ahsoka and Anakin do that piss each other off 

Ahsoka bites the skin around her nails all the time and most of the time she won't stop till they’re bleeding 

Anakin’s tried literally everything in the book to get her to stop 

He tried putting spices on her hands forgetting that she likes spicy food, he’s tried painting her nails (like that’ll do anything) but she keeps picking the paint off, now he just uses the force to remove them from her mouth 

That’s gotten a few growls from her but at least it makes her aware she’s doing it but it doesn’t stop her from bitting them a couple of seconds later

Honestly he’s given up and just sits in silence while she complains about the pain

Anakin paces whenever he’s even slightly nervous and she can tell how nervous he is depending on how fast he moves 

If he’s just kinda anxious he moves pretty slow but if he’s like one shirt caught on a door handle away from a panic attack he’s teleporting 

When Padme told him he was gonna be a dad he was ecstatic for about 24 hours but after that some invisible timer went off in his head he booked it to Ahsoka’s house (she lives down the street cause of course she does)

Walked into her room and woke her poor sleepy butt up with all his pacing 

Girl swears to this day he broke the damn sound barrier with how fast he was moving 

She just wordlessly sat up and patted her bed cause she knew she wasn’t gonna get any sleep until he did 

She sat by him and listened as he rattled off all his worries and only really stepped in when the darker thoughts surfaced when it was all said and done she turned to him and said “Now let me kriffing sleep” 

Should he have probably left the room yeah but he got a total of 30 minutes of “sleep” that night so it’s not surprising that he knocked the fuck out of

Padme was a little bit alarmed to wake up without Anakin but was quickly soothed when she read Ahsoka’s message “Your nerf herders with me” 

She knew the pregnancy would dredge up some unhappy feelings and she also knew Anakin can’t think clearly if he doesn’t have Ahsoka to sort through the bullshit in his head 

She just got ready for brunch with her two favorite people and smiled cause she knew Obi-Wan and Rex would join them for dinner with or without an invitation 

When Anakin and Ahsoka were living together they would kick each other out of their own bathrooms 

Why? Well Ahsoka said Anakin’s had better lighting and water pressure and Anakin would do it to spite Ahsoka because he knew it would piss her off  

Slowly but surely their stuff gets moved into each other's bathrooms and it’s a weird amalgamation of crap 

Also when they were living together Anakin would ask Ahsoka if she was hungry before cooking and she’d often say no because she didn’t want to impose but his cooking always looked and smelled good 

So half the time girl would just end up eating some of his food when she thought he wasn’t looking 

At first he was like “Snips you said you weren’t hungry” to which she would respond “Yeah I wasn’t hungry then but I am now” after that he starts making more food on instinct cause damn that girl can eat 

Anakin gets back at her pretty easily tho by taking the first bite of her food whenever they go out to eat his excuse is that he’s “making sure it’s not poisoned” he never does this to Padme cause he respects her too damn much 

And he can’t use that trick on Obi-Wan and Rex cause the former taught him the trick and the latter has a bullshit detecter built-in 

Both Anakin and Ahsoka pull that trick on the twins tho (which gets them a quick scolding from Padme) 

Speaking of the twins it’s not surprising that as they grow up they realize that their auntie isn’t human so of course like any normal child they have questions and Anakin being the little shit that he is spots an opportunity for some laughs 

So he turns to the twins all serious-like and goes “Well my loves we actually found your auntie in a dumpster we have no idea where she came from” the twins are distraught and go to the nearest adult who just so happens to be their uncle Rex 

And Rex also being a little shit backs up Anakin’s story with so much sincerity that even Anakin believed it a little bit 

The twins being the angels they are apologize to their auntie for her terrible origin story with tears in their eyes and her reaction more than made up for the swift ass-kicking the boys got  

When Anakin was taller than Ahsoka he made her life hell by making fun of her every time something was even slightly out of her reach

He would make a big deal about grabbing it for her while commenting about how the temple’s architecture wasn’t made with the “young ones” in mind 

Obi-Wan has turned multiple blind eyes when Ahsoka socked the shit out of his arms when he tells one too many jokes some days

When she finally grows taller than him she makes the biggest deal about it and no one can blame her 

While Anakin is the pilot Ahsoka is easily the navigator she often jokes that Anakin wouldn’t find his way out of bed without help 

Which is funny cause he often acts like a herding dog with her putting his hand on her back or holding her arm to guide her 

But he’s wrong 9/10 times so it’s not uncommon to see Anakin guiding her in one direction and then see him get dragged in the opposite direction a couple of minutes later  

[ravensmadreads]

The Mess of Us

A/N: i have no excuse honestly. I've imprinted on David York for reasons unfathomable to my own brain. This is my attempt at giving him a redemption arc? A softer backstory? My heart and soul? Who knows.

Warnings: uhhhh lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics. (Also: english is not my first language and im faking being a writer but i think this came out okay??? Pls be kind he's my lil babie!!)

Summary: I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

Taglist: @fuckyeahdindjarin cause i wouldn't be writing without you; @chronically-ghosted thank u to listening to me cry about Dave, and my writing, and myself - i owe u my life; @wannab-urs you absolute maniac i adore u; @timelordfreya u were so kind on the accompanying piece for this i hope you like this too <3

David York

You've known that name for a long time. Stayed with the man that inhabits it even longer. He goes by Dave now. Lives in a suburban home. Has two daughters. An "office job". A respectable man. A good man. A little misguided perhaps. A little bit more jaded than he used to be. More broken than you remember. The light in his eyes all but snuffed out. But a good man.

He was always a good man.

Even when he was no longer yours.

Even when he was no longer David.

****

David York and his sunshine. Neighbours. Best friends. Light of each others lives.

You're two halves of one whole in a way that makes no sense from the outside, but when you tread close enough you can pinpoint the exact strands that join your soul to his. The way his heart is an exact mirror to yours. The way your smile reflects the sun in his eyes and his warmth leaves you feeling more loved than any being in the entire universe. You'd stumbled across him, buried between the pages of a book twice the size of his head, and you thought: Oh God. It's you. It's going to be you. And you decided you'd never let him go.

Until he decided to leave.

He's so excited when he gets the call. When he makes his plans and packs his bags. When he tells you all about the good he's going to do, the hero he's going to become.

"I'll be back soon sunshine. You won't even know I'm gone."

You try to convince him to stay. With everything you've got in you. All your jokes, all your warmth, all your schemes. When that fails you give him your heart. Your tears. Explain that you can't live without him. That he can't expect you to live without him and not fall apart at the seams because he's the thread that holds you together. And when you see the anguish on his face at your confession, you revel a little because you think you've won. He's going to stay for you because of course he is. He's your David. He cups your cheeks in his hands. Lips meet your forehead as his words break your heart:

"I'm sorry sunshine. You know I have to go. I have to do this. You know."

So you wipe off your tears and you smile. Because that's what you're supposed to do for a friend and that's what you do for him. Give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tell him to be safe.

"Don't get your butt kicked too much David. I need you back in one piece."

And that's the first time David York turns his back on your smile.

****

You wait for him. Like the inexplicable fool you are. Wander aimlessly in the streets around your childhood home like a spirit too tired to haunt anyone but itself. Waiting for him to come back and spark you alive again. Awakening for the few weeks of leave he has before reverting to your state of nothingness the minute the door closes behind him. Flitting like a ghost of yourself, nothing tethering you to this place, but still incapable of moving on without him.

Because he was David York. Your best friend.

Your good man. Your solid rock.

Until he wasn't.

Until he left.

****

You learn to make your way without him. Stumble, fall and scrape your knees more than once, without him by your side clucking and fussing like the mother hen he was. Without him to hold you up and bring you close:

"You’ve got to be careful honey. I can't be losing my sunshine."

You find a purpose and make your stand into the big bad world but all of it feels hollow without him by your side. You learn to stitch people up, bandage their wounds, hold bleeding skin in place and snap broken bones back together again. He laughs when he finds out, equal parts amused and proud.

"Looks like you became the anti-Dave sunshine."

And you smile for him, because of course you do. You don't tell him that everything you're learning, you're learning because of him. Because of the sheer wall of terror that's settled in your spine since the moment he walked away. Because of the David that comes to you in your dreams. The one that crumbles in front of you; broken and damaged and begging for help. The one you're trying so hard to save.

You may be his sunshine, but he was always your sun, and you'll protect him, even if he doesn't want you to.

****

The David that comes to you now is not yours. He's an off brand version of himself. A cheap copy. An imposter that calls himself Dave and smirks in a way that makes your skin crawl. He wears Davids skin but has none of his warmth. The sunshine in his smile is replaced by an ice cold sharpness and you hate that shivers it sends down your spine. His eyes have lost most of the humour they used to have, and when he hugs you he lets go a little too soon. A little too fractured, a little too cold. You hold on; assessing, caring, and wondering. Go to ask but he shakes his head; the look in his eyes silencing your questions before the words can form on your lips. The worry in your heart worsens.

When he walks you home you try again but he anticipates it. Like the predator he is now, he sees your strike coming, and retaliates in the one way he knows will force your silence. He kisses you. Hot and deep. Steals the air from your lungs and the words from your brain. Renders you shocked. When you open your eyes it's your David staring back again and your relieved smile has him pushing into you again. He kisses you until you're breathless. Again, and again, and again, until all your worries are dripping unvoiced at your feet and all your questions have been sucked into the air in his lungs.

You don't fall into each other as much as you attack. The culmination of years of circling each other and it all comes down to this. Mouths open, teeth clashing like you're trying to make your way into each others souls. His hands grab you so desperately, so fervently, that you wonder how he hasn't moulded you into his own chest yet. Your nails scratching at him like you're trying to carve a home in his bones. You’re trying to tear pieces of each other apart. Him, so he may take you with him and you, so you never have to watch him leave again. You devour every inch of him so reverently that the taste of him may remain embedded in your tongue forever. And he carves his way into you, soothing an emptiness that only ever craved him. Pounding in like he's trying to break you open and consume the light within. You cling to each other in the aftermath, breathless, sated and smiling, and you remember placing a kiss on his heart right before you drift off in his embrace.

You should've known, in retrospect, that that was as good as it was ever going to get.

He leaves you in an empty bed. Runs away before the dawn breaks like the consequences of what you both did are too ugly to be faced in the light of day. You turn the apartment upside down looking for one note, one glimpse, one hint of him that's not mottled on your skin and going to be torn away by the cruel hands of time.

You take the dismissal for what it is when you don't find one.

****

He comes back broken. Purple shadows under his eyes, a split lip and a wince that breaks you when you go to hug him. The storm breaks and you lunge. Too strung out to keep going like this any longer and too frazzled by thoughts of "what if it was worse" to think about the consequences of breaking your silence.

Your fists pound against the rock hard of his chest. The place that used to be your solace, your comfort, your home. Where you'd set your head too many times to count and where all your dreams ever went to rest. And they've turned it to stone, moulded him into a machine, changed him into something he's not.

"You're not a fucking hero David. You're not. And I'm asking you to stop trying to be one. I'm asking you to stop this self sacrificial bullshit and come back. Come home. You don't need to be a hero. You just need to be alive. I need you alive dammit! Why can't you see how much I need you?"

Your voice falters and cracks. It's out there now, the pieces of your heart; ugly, tattered and split open in front of him. Waiting for his judgement, for his grace. His face twists into a grimace, and you turn your head before he can see the tears fall. You don't need his apologies. His empty words and false promises of how nothing will ever happen to him, because it will, you know it will. So you hold up a hand before he can begin.

"It's okay. I get it. This is your life now, right? So will you forgive me then, if I can't stand around watching you try to kill yourself and wait for the day you inevitably succeed?"

Something in his eyes breaks at your words, and something in your heart does when he gathers you in his arms. The kiss on your temple feels like a goodbye. To your one solace, your one crutch and the only friend you ever had. And you know this goodbye will haunt you forever.

That's the one time you turn your back on David York.

****

He comes back with an extra sparkle in his eyes. Pleads and begs his way into your good graces and you indulge him because that's what you do for David. His smile has never been brighter. He may call you sunshine but he has always been your shining light, your beacon, the lighthouse you turn to.

But then he turns away. And in a split second, your world tilts on it's axis.

Carol.

Her name is Carol. Perfectly normal. Perfectly sweet. Perfectly perfect. He's got his hand in her hand and you don't understand. You can't. You refuse. Except.... David. He looks so happy. So content. Looks at her with all the devotion you've only ever given him, and all the love you wish he could've given you.

"What do think sunshine? I think she may be the one."

You smile. Because that's what you always do for David. You smile. It's an ugly thing. Fractured. Broken. He notices because of course he does. You've never been able to hide from him, ingrained as he is into your very soul. His smile falters and his eyes fill with sorrow and regret. Apologies for all he could never be and all the regret he has about it.

"You did good York. You'll be great together."

He flinches. He has only ever been David to you. He knows he has broken something irreparable. Opens his mouth to fix it. To swallow something back, say something else instead. Change the words, the letters, the combinations of decisions that led you both to this very moment. Something to keep you whole but the parts he shattered, however unwittingly, are already crumbling to dust in front of him. He closes his mouth. Swallows whatever lingered at the back of his throat. You smile at each other as you walk away. Him with her hand in his. You with the cloud of pain that comes from finally accepting the bitter truth for what it is.

He's not yours. Not anymore. Never will be again.

You never call him David again.

***

You miss him. Of course you do. Running from him was like running from a part of yourself; impossible, regretful and pointless. You were intwined into each other too thoroughly for there to ever be a clean cut through. You couldn't really walk away from him completely no matter what the distance on a map points out.

You know he'll call when he comes back again. He does. Shows up at the threshold of your sanity and the hardest thing you've ever done is ignore his voice when it calls to you. Voicemail, after voicemail, after voicemail. You listen to every single one but you can't call him back. His voice is your kryptonite. You'd walk back the distance if only you could but some tattered remnants of your self esteem hold you back. The last one comes with a letter in the mail. The glossy embellished card reminds you of the reason you walked away. The reason you could never go back. He pleads over static and tinny phone lines:

"Come on sunshine. I need you there. I'm sorry. I'm so s-. Please. I- "

Silence for a few minutes before the line cuts off. Typical of you both. To never say what you want and yet be assured the other knows exactly what you mean. He probably knows too. That you can't bear to see someone else's name next to his. The thought makes you nauseous; angry in a way that scares you, an evil coiling restless being inside of you, threatening to do as he asks. Go over there and scream in his face. The audactiy of this man to say he needs you when all you ever wanted was for him to pick you. Over the chip on his shoulder, the gun in his hand, the name on that card. Choose you. Love you. But you can't do any of that. You can't stand by his side and smile as he walks away with another either.

His only mercy is that he doesn't show up at your doorstep when you both know he could and you wouldn't be able to close the door in his face. Not him. Never him.

You throw the card away without opening it.

He forgives you.

But he never calls again.

***

Months turn to years and David York turns from a stabbing ache into a memory and then a ghost. He haunts you initially, at every turn, but slowly, over the years, the voice in your head softens down. He vanishes into the fog that lingers at the back of your mind and you stop looking over your shoulder for him to come back. You left him so suddenly, so abruptly, that you'd torn off pieces of yourself too. But time heals those wounds and you gradually learn to carry on as half of your bleeding heart slowly scabs and scars over.

You carve out a content little place for yourself, in a tiny corner of the world as you finally learn to love the reflection in your mirror. There's grey in your hair now. Wrinkles in your skin and hands hardened over from a life lived serving others. Saving who you can, when you can. A melody on your lips as you collect the parcels from your mailbox. Cocoa and bitter coffee long since mask the taste of his name on your breath.

There's a knock at your door and you flit to open it. Your smile, a pale imitation of what it used to be, plastered on, as you brace yourself to greet a well meaning neighbour or two. It falls quicker than lightning at the sight that greets you instead.

A man wavers at your doorstep. Unfamiliar in his familiarity. The ghost of a memory of a love never forgotten. Dripping crimson over the smiley face on your welcome mat. A haphazard bandage concealing half his face. One hand clearly broken. Arm bent at an angle too sharp to be natural. Angry streaks of purple and blue dancing around all visible patches of skin and he's trying to be nonchalant about the way he's favouring his right leg but failing miserably. Wheezing a breath that you know speaks of atleast one, if not several, broken ribs. And yet, despite all the damage and destruction and sheer agonizing pain he's no doubt in, the man smiles. Full and bright and warm.

"Hey sunshine."

And you reply.

A gasp. A plea. A promise.

David.

****

[meganslife]

Pen pals - p. parker

TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! reader

summary: peter parker is your pen pal.

warnings: none so far!!!

hello helloooo!!! i had this idea because i myself have a pen pal, and it’s honestly really fun and reminds me of peter. this will be multiple parts!! anyhoo, happy reading!

Having a pen pal was fun. It gave you something to look forward to whenever you needed to open the mailbox. It was nice, although your lovely pen pal, Peter, was on the other side of the country. You were in Seattle. He was in Queens, New York. It was a nice arrangement that you two had. No phone numbers, just handwritten letters, and cute little pictures.

When you opened your apartment mailbox and saw that you had a letter from Peter, your heart felt warm. It was the warmest you’ve felt in a while.

Y/N,

My apologies for not writing you back sooner. School is kicking my butt recently, and I moved back in with May (hence why a new address is on the envelope). My old roommate went BALLISTIC on me for little things, so I decided I needed to leave. May is a better person to have around, anyway.

The fall semester ended last week, and I wish I could say that I passed my finals. My professors are just mean, I think. I’ve been super stressed out lately, and writing this letter is helping me. You’re my savior. Also, the pictures you sent me of you in Tennessee are amazing. You should be a model! I’m sure you hear that a lot because of how pretty you are;)

I hope it’s not too cold in Seattle. I took some pictures of random things I thought you’d like, maybe that’ll distract you from how cold it is. I know how much you hate the cold. (You chose the wrong place to live!)

Anyhoo, I’m sorry this letter is short. My wrist is cramping up and May needs help with dinner. Write back as soon as you can.

Much love,

Peter ♥

Photo one: Peter in an obnoxiously large New Year’s Eve hat, grinning from ear to ear with his friend(?)

Photo two: A Polaroid of stray cats bonding in what you assume is Peter’s front yard.

Photo three: A Polaroid of Peter that was clearly taken by May. Peter is holding a tray of muffins, and he looks really stupid in his apron.

You get to writing him a letter right away.

Dear Peter,

I love the pictures. I’ll add them to my growing collection on my wall:)

My day has been so shitty. I wish you were here. It gets lonely, sometimes. I have friends, I’ve told you very little about them. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but living alone is just lonely. Maybe I should get a cat or something. I need something to come home to. (Sorry for making this portion of the letter sad. I just needed someone to talk to.)

The weather in Queens looks nice. You’re awfully lucky, Peter. It’s cold and slushy here. I’m cold to the bone. Like, nothing will warm me up. It’s annoying. I just want it to be summer again. I hate being pale and cold.

I don’t have any pictures as of right now, so I’m sorry about that. I have some drawings I could give you.

My letter is short too, so I guess we’re even. I need to nap the sadness away.

Cold and loving,

Y/N ♥

~

The next letter you receive from Peter is about a week later.

My dearest Y/N,

I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.

I know we said we wouldn’t exchange phone numbers, and I respect that, but I just need to give you mine. I need to. Just in case. I don’t want you to be sad and lonely and have to wait for my letters to come. I like you. I like you A LOT– And I honestly want to meet you in person but that’s a conversation for another day. I’ve been saving up for it. Maybe you should come during the spring? You’d love it here, I know it. Or I could come to you? Whatever, we can talk about it more over the phone.

My phone number:

(718)-XXX-XXXX

Call me;)

Love always,

Peter ♥

You immediately spring up to your feet and grab your phone. Your hands were shaking as you dialed the number and called it, praying he wouldn’t think it was a spam call.

“Pete?” You ask, voice higher than you meant it to be.

Boyish laughter erupts on the other end of the line, and you already know that it’s Peter. Of course, his laugh would sound so sweet.

“Hi, lovie.”

[fan-goddess]

His pretty muse {3)

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aegon finds what he thinks is love simply by looking through his camera lens. The only issue is, you don’t know how much he truly admires your beauty and how much he comes to crave you

Warnings: Dark themes mentioned, masterbation, pervy!aegon, talk of male oral, (any I missed let me know)

Story Taglist: @jamespotterismydaddy, @chompchompluke, @flrboyd, @teazlic, @sajida-cameron, @valeskafics,

Author Note: If you wish to be added to the taglist then please comment. If you wish to be taken out of it then say that here aswell. If it’s in bold I am unable to tag you

Other Chapters: one, two, three,

Other links: My Pretty Muse Masterlist

Aegon doesn’t regret a thing when he wakes up that morning and uses you as a way to rid himself of his morning wood. His hand finds itself sliding under the thin blanket he slept in last night and grips himself tightly. Your name is muttered like a prayer under his breath as his head goes back to those images of you last night.

He knows he could easily just go get his laptop to look at the pictures more clearly, but he’s way to lazy to go and grab it even if it’s only a few steps away. Besides, he’s already moved on from thinking of those photos to thinking of scenarios of you in such scandalous positions it’d make the maiden blush. His favourite by far, and the one that makes him cum, is the thought of you on your knees in-front of him looking up at him through your lashes while you struggle to take all of him in your mouth.

He grabs a random sock on the side of his bed and wipes himself down when he’s finished, before trailing to the shower and blasting himself in some cold water. After he dries himself off he debates on what to wear to take you on a supposed tour of the town, but to be perfectly honest, he knows jack shit apart from a spot that famous for suicides. Though he honestly doubts he’ll be able to weave that fact in without making you run for your perfect fucking family…

He decides on some butt ugly polo shirt he accidentally stole of his brother years ago when he left. It’s slightly tight on him cause of how bigger he’s gotten practically living of fish and chips, but hey, anything for his girl right? He even puts some weird conditioner thing in his hair before ultimately rethinking about how freakishly like his brother he became in that moment. “Like a god damn vampire…” he giggles slightly when he looks at himself in the mirror, before sticking his head under the tap and rinsing it to start all over again.

He’s eventually done though, and walks to the direction of your house with his hands in his trouser pockets and his camera tucked away on his desk, for once by on him. He refuses to scare you away just yet, even though the thought kind of excites him. He even whistles a part of a song he heard walking past a house with an open window. He thinks it’s called pumped up kicks or something like that.

When he gets to your house, he finally gets a chance to look at it in the sunlight. It’s a decent sized bungalow, but the paintwork is fucking ghastly. It’s supposed to be a golden yellow, a colour he knew well in his former life, yet here it’s changed into some sickly jaundice piss stained yellow. If you ever ask if he wants to help with housework, he’s starting with this whether you agree with him or not.

The house he can hear has already come alive with people. Children’s screams and adults shouting echo of the house in waves. He even hears his own ‘name’ shouted. “Sissy your lover boy is here for you!”

It almost brings a sort of smile to his face when he knocks, and the chaos within seems to get ten times louder. He hears you most clearly. Demanding your parents/grandparents to keep the kids away from the town that day so you can’t run into them, with the whining of the kids following swiftly afterwards. You come out a couple minutes later. Your cheeks are red with he assumes is embarrassment yet his head can’t help but think of the possible reasons for having red cheeks.

“Sorry about them. My family’s kinda annoyed I’m not going with them on this stupid walk they planned, yet gave no one else a heads up on about until this morning-“ Usually he finds himself wanting to smack ramblers who can’t get to the point. Yet while you do so he can’t help but find it cute and endearing. He hears you talk but he doesn’t really listen, cause all he can think while you’re doing it is how cute you are. Your hands are moving in time with your voice. When it rises, your hands rise too. It’s an awfully funny thing to witness not that he’s noticed it.

He doesn’t even realise that the two of you are walking though while he pretends to listen to you. Yet your sudden direction of voice brings him out of this little bubble he made just for you. “I thought you said about giving me a tour?” You giggled as you spoke, yet when you raised your eyebrow almost daringly you somehow manage to turn something so perfectly innocent, into something so damn seductive.

“Well sorry princess. Kinda got caught up in your story. I mean, what is a guy supposed to focus on when a beautiful womans talking to him? Not give her attention? Now that’s just cruel of him.” His fuckboy charm doesn’t seem to have any problem coming back to him. Even after a couple years of not using it it seems he still has the swagger. It practically roars in remembrance when you blush at the compliment.

“Wow you’re a real charmer aren’t you PM…” That fucking nickname mixed with the fucking smile you have, it nearly makes him pop a boner there and then.

“Hell yeah I am princess.” It’s a simple response mixed with a simple lazy wink, yet that combo seemed to make you react the most. Your face turns a light pink and your mouth moulds itself into a bashful smile. It’s got to be one of his best works yet he’s got to say.

The walk he hadn’t even realised they were on continues. He halfheartedly talks about the buildings they pass, playing into that tour guide thing he said he’d do but had no intention of actually doing. He makes sure to put in his own personal spin to it though. He makes sure to say stories about the people who live their or frequent there.

“A man named Paul lives there. He’s goes absolutely fucking mental when you step on his grass. Parently he sprayed some little kids with his hose a couple years ago when they played on it. Even gave one a bloody nose cause they fell down getting sprayed or some shit.”

“No!” You gasped. It goes on like that for around an hour. Just him and you messing about discussing gossip about people like the weird women at his mothers boring as fuck book club.

Whilst he’s in the middle of the rumour on one of the fisherman shagging the fish however, you stop, and when he looks back you’ve got a massive grin on your face.

“Something wrong pretty girl?” He asks. It’s strange, as he both does and doesn’t mean the sentimental tone behind it. You don’t respond immediately, only pointing to something behind him with that grin still on your face.

When he turns around, the memory of it hits him like a freight train. It’s an ice cream shop, and he said he’d buy you an ice cream. An internal panic hits him suddenly. What if he has no money on him? Would you think he’s poor for not having any money on him? (Even though he knows he technically is no doubt) or would you pity him and try and play a sympathy card?

While you walk to the entrance, his hands frantically shake and pull at any and all of his pockets, and low and behold the faint sigh of relief when his hand clasps on a lim forgotten twenty pound note hidden away. His footsteps slap against the hard shop as he enters and finds you grinning with rosy cheeks waiting for him.

“You already know what you want princess?” He asks.

“I’m thinking vanilla. It’s basic but a classic.” You ponder. When he looks at the flavours he remembers why he never comes in here. He’s an indecisive little shit.

“Good choice!” The kid behind the counter smiles. It’s obvious the kids not entirely thrilled to be there. The smiles too forced and the eyes look way to dull. Even the way he spoke the generic saying Aegon would bet his boss told him to say, was as if the freaking Terminator voiced him. And the cherry on top, the kids name tag says his names Geoffrey. What kind of sick fuck names there kid Geoffrey in this time? Sociopaths from the fucking thirties, that’s who.

When you turn to him, the kids eyes seem to droop down to look at your tits, and it takes everything in him not to leap over that counter and beat him till he’s unconscious with that stupid ice cream scooper he’s holding.

“Hey kid” The attentions of the tits now, and the kid can no doubt see the anger in his eyes. “I’ll get a vanilla too. In a tub, not a cone though.”

He can already feel the judgment radiating off in waves. Reflecting off the once vibrant now sickly shade of yellow of the ice cream parlour walls. The two of you don’t have to wait long till the kids calling for the two of you, as unsurprisingly enough, no one wants to go in the piss coloured ice cream parlour.

When he walks outside, holding the door open for you like from some stupid romcom movie his sister always raved on, he leads you to an old bench overlooking some trees. It’s like one of those things old married couples do. Sit on an old bench no doubt dedicated to some old person and feed the ducks.

Before the two of you have even sat down, he’s already ditched the pathetic pink plastic spoon the kid gave him. So instead, he uses his preferred method of eating ice cream. Holding the tub to his lips and licking it straight from the tub. He can feel your eyes watching him. Though whether it was from the way he was eating it or the tub itself he has no idea.

“Oh princess your staring” he practically sings. From the corner of his eye he sees your head quickly turn back to your own food and lick it a couple times. It takes everything in him to not groan out loud when he eagerly watched you kitten lick the white liquid that already begun to drip down your hand from the heat.

The silence between him and yourself though he finds is strange nice. Every so rarely often with the move of his arm his elbow brushes against your own arm, and Aegon has to stop himself every time from obsessing in his mind over the small contact.

Eventually the sun gets to his ice cream, leaving the dessert to pool in his cup. So he does what any sane person would do. He tilts it back and drinks it like a shot. He can see your head turn to him while he does this, the slurping sound not silent in anyway whatsoever. When he’s done and wipes whatever remnants stayed on his face he hears a little giggle coming from his left. A little giggle coming from you.

Aegon turns to you with a lazy grin. Mainly to tease you about the giggle, yet his gaze seems to zero in on a small dollop of ice cream that hangs in the corner of your mouth. He can’t even find himself able to look away. The once lazy grin he can feel fade as his hand moves with a mind of its own to wipe away at the white stuff with his thumb. It doesn’t end there, as he next licks at that very same thumb to get rid of the ice cream while making direct eye contact with you.

“Sorry…” He awkwardly smiles. Deep inside, he knows damn well he doesn’t mean the apology. He’d probably do it again if it meant he could touch you over and over. He’s probably even lick the remnants straight of your skin if you asked him to.

“It’s okay” you still someone manage to smile so cutely with a blush that’s taken your face hostage. “Why do you do that? Eat ice cream with a tub?”

Aegons never really had to think about it. Even though no one ever asked. Maybe it was cause he always hung about with the sheep kids in school. The ones who only hung onto your every word cause you had more money than them, and by the seven did he have a lot. “I’ve never had a cone before. Plus It always seems to go soggy whenever ice creams there for too long and all I can think about when I see it is wet cardboard.”

“Okay.” That’s all you say? Okay! Where’s the judgement?! Where’s the calling him a weirdo?! Where’s the normal human response?

“You don’t think it’s weird?” He’s insecurity creeps up on him as his nail gets pushed further into his palm. It’s a bad habit yes, learnt straight from mother dearest, but it distracts him from the humiliation with a nice feeling of pain. So why stop when he’s having fun?

“We all have our preferences, and you just have yours. Who am I to judge?” You say with a shrug as you go back to eating your cone. It’s simple how you said it. It was so simple and short. Yet why does he feel like he’s having a heart attack?

Aegon doesn’t speak for the rest of the ice cream part of the, is it a date? Do you count it as a date? He probably would count it as a date but only if you-

“You okay?” It’s your voice that brings him out of whatever mind melt he just went through. Yet he could never tell you that. If there’s one thing he got beat into him, men don’t show emotion. Or at least that’s what he was taught and shown anyway.

“I’m fine princess.” Again, the fuckboy smile comes out and is rewarded with a blush. His heart goes fast at the sight of it. It beats even fast when there’s more white ice cream on the corner of your lip, slowing dripping down the side of your mouth. If there’s a god out there, he’s currently torturing him.

It’s only worse for him when this time, you feel the ice cream and lick it away with your tongue. The sight of it makes his pants stir.

“What now- oh shit!” The shocked face you make leaves his head spinning. He turns his head a couple times to see if it’s something around the two of you which made you act so… surprised, but there’s no one but him and you, as-well as some old cat that wonders around. You couldn’t be that much of a cat lady right?

“I still don’t really know your name! I’m practically on a date with a complete stranger! Good gods for all I know you’re planning on taking me back to your place and locking me in a basement!” That’s actually sort of close… only he doesn’t have a basement. Should he invest in a basement?

“No one knows my real name princess. That’s kinda the point of why people call me PM.” Aegon attempts to diffuse the sudden tension with another fuck boy smile, but if anything it seems to make it worse…

“So you’re telling me no one in this entire town knows who you really are?”

“Nope.” It’s a simple answer, for a simple question. Yet it makes him think about it all. No one in this town does actually know who he is. The hair should’ve been a dead give away for who he was, yet no one questioned him about it. No one in any conversation he’d ever had in this town ever really asked him questions about him…

“What’s it begin with?” Your voice breaks him out of the tangent, yet when he turns his to look at you he’s forced to look straight into your eyes. Your very pretty, very close to him eyes.

“What?”

“Your name. Your real name. Not some made up alias you came up with but your actual, parent given or whatever adult given name. Tell me what it begins with if your not comfortable to say it fully.”

Aegon sighs in defeat when he sees your determined eyes. Again, your very close to him eyes that make his own want to drift to your lips and see if they taste of the vanilla ice cream. “My father picked my name, mainly cause he was a traditional cunt. It begins with an A.”

“Anthony?”

“Like that Bridgerton dude?”

“You watch Bridgerton?”

“No I remember when I was on the beach and a bunch of girls in skimpy bikinis were talking about the dude. Sounds like a dick for ditching his betrothed for her sister if you asked me.”

“Gonna just ignore that for the bigger issue… Arnold?”

“GET TO THE CHOPPER!”

“Dear gods give me strength… How about Archie?”

“Nope”

“Archibald?”

“Is that what I am to you princess? A fucking duke from the m 1800’s? I’m very harshly offended!”

“Achilles?”

“Are you trying to ask insinuate something princess?”

A frustrated sort of growl rips from your throat, and Aegon can’t help himself from thinking that’s the most hottest thing he’s ever heard. It almost naws at his head the idea that you growl like that in bed. When he takes you from behind, would you growl like that just for him while he’s cumming inside and paining your insides white? He certainly hopes so. He’s not very sorry for the fact he can feel himself getting hard in front of you. As why should he? He’ll be hopefully fucking you soon enough.

“You are so annoying!” You moan with your hands clenched in what he assumes is frustration. It makes him subconsciously smile from amusement.

“That’s the goal princess.” He winks for what feels like the tenth time today. That inner fuck boy really seems to be coming back full swing, though the worst part is he can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing. The good part is, he’s able to flirt with you like a bird flying. Scoring a couple deep blushes he’ll store the image of later. The bad part however, now that part of him is unlocked, the thoughts of that lifestyle are hitting him full force.

The images of you with that ice cream on your lips sending his mind racing. Sounds of you groaning playing again and again as if they’re on some old record player he can’t turn off. The taste of the ice cream is what he’s thinking your lips would taste like if he was to kiss you.

To be honest, the rest of the date not date went like a blur. As if he’d somehow snorted some sort of coke and was in some hallucinagenic high or something. Yeah, he remembers showing you the rest of the shitty buildings and telling you peoples secrets like you and him were on some shitty quiz show (unlike catchphrase if you ever dissed catchphrase he’d probably have to kill you). But honestly, it was as if he was watching it from above. The only way he can think of to describe it is from that marvel movie Dr Strange with the weird ghost thing they do.

The only way he’s brought back to his own body is when he felt the sudden warmth of your body on his. The feeling like his soul was entering his body hitting him harshly and quickly as he realised what was going on. You were hugging him. Your hands were wrapped around him and your head was in his neck.

Aegon can’t deny he didn’t enjoy the feeling of your warmth, but he also can’t deny the uncomfortable feeling of the hug itself. His arms though did not move, only limply and awkwardly stiff at his sides. His chin was brushing against the shell of your ear. Worst of all, he could feel his chest beating like he ran one of those marathon things, it’s almost worst that he doesn’t know if why his heart was beating so fast whether because it was from the sudden affection, or because while you hugged him he realised he could feel the imprint of your breasts.

You look up at him with your chest still in quite close proximity to his own, and your hands placed on his forearms. You seem to ponder something with a raised brow, as your mouth already begins to move.“You’re not a big hug kinda guy are you?”

“No I guess not.” He simply shrugs. His arms still hang limply, while your face is still close. He’s almost tempted to lean forward and close that gap. See if your lips will taste like the vanilla ice cream you were licking not long ago. He can’t deny though that he likes this act even better than going for the taste. A small torture for a large reward. Maybe it’s the masochist in him? Or the sadist that revels in the cat and mouse game your not even aware your playing. Call him insane, it’s not like he’s never heard it before anyway.

[tobiasdrake]

Okay, your post on Videl got me thinking of Lunch again. She was one of the highlights of Dragonball for me, and she just, didn't exist in Z? Outside of a brief appearance at the end of the anime. Do you have any interesting thoughts on her?

Lunch was mostly a combination of two jokes, one of which is gross and the other of which is hysterical.

As a character, Lunch was mostly relegated to two bits. For the first, I think it was a popular gag in 80's and 90's anime to have an elderly pervert try to pull shit on young women only to face violent comeuppance. I remember seeing this in quite a bit of anime back in the day, and that's precisely the gag that the Muten-Roshi came to center around.

This is precisely what Lunch was originally introduced for. A sweet and unassuming woman that Roshi could perv on....

Right up until a sneeze brings out her alter for violent retribution.

Lunch was the first Super Saiyan IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

Fortunately, since Goku spends so little time at Kame House as the manga progresses, we don't tend to see much of this. Instead, the main thing Lunch gets used for is indiscriminate violence. As Blonde Lunch settled in as one of the gang, her propensity for crime and ability to pull firearms straight out of thin air became her main gag.

You know, in retrospect? If she had to be written out? Robbing the Muten-Roshi of that diamond and then flying off over the horizon would have been a great way to do it.

Imagine if this was the last we ever saw of Lunch. Powerhouse of an ending for her character, wasted on a funny bit in the RRA arc.

Honestly, the RRA arc is peak Lunch. That time she kicked God in the butt notwithstanding.

For the last important thing she ever did in the series, that's such a note to go out on.

But in addition to the hilarious diamond bit, the RRA arc also gives us the only time Lunch has actually gotten to use her propensity for violence in a genuine fight. This is one of my favorite Lunch moments.

Mistakenly believing that the Muten-Roshi is the inventor of Goku's Dragon Radar, Red Ribbon moves to seize control of Kame House. This goes badly for them.

It's been like four months since that guy managed to beat Goku in the ring. Y'all made mistakes.

Red Ribbon manages to make him stop doing this to them by taking Lunch hostage.

But Turtle's there with the palm frond.

And then, shortly after, she robbed the Muten-Roshi for that diamond. Her whole part of the General Blue sub-arc is Peak Lunch.

(I genuinely don't know if using sneezes to transition between personalities is, like, a common ableist stereotype in Japanese culture or if Danganronpa's Genocide Jack was inspired by Lunch specifically. I do wonder.)

The 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai, however, would kickstart what would unexpectedly be the beginning of the end for Lunch.

Her takeaway from Goku and Tenshinhan's final match is that Ten is a fucking beast and Mama Want. This wasn't supposed to be how her character exits the series. But then Raditz showed up.

In the reunion between Goku and his friends at Kame House, Yamcha and Lunch would both reasonably be expected to be present. Yamcha's absence is explained by him and Bulma fighting again, while Lunch is said to have left after the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai to go with Tenshinhan.

And then she never came back. This was the last we ever heard of her. Toriyama has said in interview that he forgot she existed, but he did still occasionally draw her or provide a few extra details for what ever became of her and Tenshinhan's... situation.

In interview following the release of Battle of Gods, he finally gave a final ending for Lunch and Ten's situation.

"Stoic Tenshinhan mainly does farming in addition to his training. He can split into multiple bodies and grow extra arms, so harvesting the crops goes quickly. He was found by Lunch, who fell in love with him at first sight and had been constantly pursuing his whereabouts, and even reluctantly lived together with her; but she wasn’t cut out for farming, and Tenshinhan has no interest in romance, so she left after just a few days. After that, it seems Lunch apparently stops in from time to time."

We don't get to see much of Ten's social life because he doesn't associate with anybody. He and Chiaotzu are an island unto themselves, only popping in when the Earth is in peril.

Unless they're undergoing some sort of heavenly trial or fighting the apocalypse, they don't hang out with Kame-senryu. And since our guys are Kame-senryu, that means we don't get to hang out with them.

They're off doing their own thing and walking their own path. And Lunch is over there in the mystical land of wherever they fucking go with them now. Popping in on the aromantic Tenshinhan from time to time while living her exciting life of crime.

So, farewell Lunch. You really were a hoot to have around.

[lutawolf]

My Dear Gangster Oppa Commentary Ep 4

If you haven't seen my other commentary, you can find it here.

This makes me sad because what was special for Tew was the fact that Guy wasn't afraid of him. But here he is, afraid. Which clearly is upsetting to Tew.

As soon as Guy opens his eyes, they are drawn to the gun wound scar. The face that Tew gives him then...

And Guy's concern, then confusion. So much emotion in one frame.

Now they are sitting and communicating. Tew tells Guy that he didn't tell him that he was scared that it would put Guy in danger. Which confuses me because not knowing, knowing, is there really a difference in danger level?

Tew starts to explain his past and his joy of playing video game. Then his home life. While not rich, he had a loving father. Who clearly raised him right because he is so well-mannered. Oh no! Cough with blood.  

Damn... I was really hoping he would kick their asses, and get home to his dad.

I mean, we knew it was coming, but the fact that he didn't get to say goodbye. Oh damn, that really explains the previous episode where he came to meet Guy to say goodbye before his trip.

Ohhhh, Tew looks scary now.

OH! Who called it?!?!

And then he is shot!!! What!?!? I was not expecting that. Nor was I expecting the next part. I was kind of expecting him to have been forced into killing. Interesting. I wonder if Wish John Lennon was one of these kids???

So while bad boy is a rebel with a cause, he still a rebel. Then he just lays down to die.

I think it's safe to say that home dude was not thinking that day.

I think Guy gets it, but it will be interesting to see if he accepts it. He at least isn't scared of Tew anymore. Butt he more Tew explains, the more clearly you can see he is an anti-hero. Won't go so far as to call him a villain butttttt. He is no hero. Yay!!! This is my favorite type of character!

I am not sure what to think of the mob boss. He is putting a lot of trust into a kid, but he also appears to be giving him the keys to revenge. He is an interesting character to say the least.

The rules seem simple enough. No lying and no betrayal.

"Once you touch a gun. There is no going back to a normal life"

Then, Tew gives a little smirk and says that he doesn't plan on going back to a normal life anyway.

And Guy is seeing this. I think it's interesting because for some reason Tew really expected that Guy would absolutely understand. He is pretty spot on because Guy does understand.

Really Guy... You are going to be butt hurt over the restaurant lie??? I mean, I actually get where Guy is coming from. I'm just thinking it's funny to pick that after hearing Tew's story.

It apparently was not what Tew was expecting Guy to be upset about either. His face says he is completely dumbfounded. Honestly, in my opinion, Guy is latching onto something to use so he can run scared. I don't think he is scared of Tew, but of his own feelings that are happening too fast. I could be completely off base, but that's what I see from how he is acting and reacting.

Boy up in his feels getting sloppy drunk. Other boy is being emo in his bed. What a pair.

Oh, no! Boss man is not okay with the fake restaurant.

Home dude is not right in the head, is he?

I'll say it again. Mob boss daddy is interesting. He cares about Tew, but he isn't a push over.

I'm suspicious... How is a regular dude off the street not scared when goons show up???

Again, not a push over.

Now back to emo boy with his bed and his fish. Damn it Guy! That was a shit move to do to your guild!!! And his first thoughts when there is a knock at the door is Tew. That should tell you something, Guy! You're running from your feelings. Coward!

Nope. It's jackass Wahl, who I just know has something to do with stirring up shit. I know. He seems sweet, but how can he not tell that his bestie is upset??? Wahl is just too selfish for me to like him. I tried to like him, I really did, but I don't like selfish besties.

Discount Lennon out here trying to drown people.

See, I told you that Wahl was where this bullshit all started. He is being so condescending. Saying he is the most important person to him but then ditching him all the time. I really hope, at some point, Tew beats him up.

Did he drown him???

We're back to the guessing game of: Dead or Passed Out??? (If you said that in a game host voice, give yourself ten points.)

Oh! Not dead! Ohhhhh, another pissing contest in the wild!

I refuse to believe that Tew is that stupid... I hate Wahl because I feel like he is going to get a call from his gf and just leave Guy like he always does.

Ahhh... Nice. Tew planned ahead. Never mind, I take it back. Tew is stupid. Don't lie to the boss, especially not for Wish Lennon.

I don't like the fall troupe when it's Guy and Wahl.... Just saying.

Please, please, let Tew beat him up.

Yes, I agree. You need to put an end to your feelings. Oh, wow! Wahl didn't ditch Guy, but Guy ditched Wahl!!!

Sadly, though, Guy isn't answering Tew's phone calls either.

I really think that Tew should take this opportunity given to him and beat up Wahl.

The wrong person got punched! That did not go the way that I wanted.

Guy ran home. I can respect that. Except the fact that he is acting like a two-year-old. Awww, bless him. Well, at least now he is realizing that he is running away from everything.

Finally!!!

What does it say that Tew didn't stop till he found you Guy? LOVE, the communication going on. I love that Tew is calling out Guy, telling him that he feels this way and ran because he cares about him.

He called him little boy! And then gave him a real hug!!!

Ahhh, Tew confessing. Hot damn! They are making up for that shitty ending last episode!

OH SHIT.... He is going to quit the gangster life... I'm scared.

Never mind, we'll just shelve that concern for another day. Carry On. 💜💜💜

[a-twistedheartslonging]

So! Everything I’ve learned about spooders is from my aunt Angie, and Exotic Lair on YouTube and now I’m talking about Idia!

Spiders rub their thorax with their legs to kick their little hairs at predators or enemies, they actually get irritated really quickly (no I personally haven’t had kicked hairs in my arms, but my Auntie has and we had to drive her to the hospital cause the topical ointments were causing an allergic reaction) so all I’m picturing is if you scare Idia, and his back to you he kicks his hairs at you. Make sure to knock before entering his room! Nobody makes this mistake twice…

Some tarantelas keep small frogs in a symbiotic relationship where the frog protects the spiders eggs, and the spider protects the frog, so honestly…Ortho is a frog boy. Maybe not a full frog boy but like he wears froggy outfits. He has a bucket hat with the frog eyes, and everything!

Spiders use their webs as an extended sense of touch, so as much as I want to say Idia uses his webbing for wiring and electronics, I’m worried he would electrocute himself…he probably does periodically and you and Ortho yell at him to STOP! This is the third time!

Spiders HATE blowing air and wind, so he uses it as an excuse to avoid the outdoors. « It’s so windy out though! » it actually can cause overstimulation for them, and they can get sick from too much wind! So windy days I bet he gets a bit of a fever every time. His little hairs also shake to try and calm down. He looks like he’s vibrating

So there are burrowing spiders (which are the ones I know about) and arborils (or the tree livers…) and since he prefers the indoors, he would be a burrower! Also cause then I can talk about him! Also cause he would prefer the dark, damp, and he would totally burrow into his blanket fort, and his super fluffy hoodie!

After he molts he’s SUPER pretty, as all spiders are! They’re so vibrant and bright blue. I bet Idia would be a cobalt blue tarantula, and if Ortho is a spider, I bet he would be a rose hair. Rose hairs are best for beginners, as they’re pretty docile, and just live and let live, while cobalts choose violence more often. Rose hairs also choose violence, but more as a last resort. Both kick hairs, but cobalts also bite…

So spiders teeth are actually like straws (if I’m remembering correctly) so just picture him crunching a soda can and he sucks it all down! Just a SHLURP, and he’s hydrated! But I bet he still likes the crunch of chips. (Weird asmr too look for is tarantula feeding! Don’t watch if you have a weak stomach)

Spiders don’t have bones and use more of a hydrolic system to move, with their heart pushing blood into each leg to move forward then pull it back. So I say Idia has very few bones, or none, and his human torso is highly flexible. Without his exo he would be very bendy.

Spiders have retractable claws AND PAW PADS! They only have two of each on each food, so 16 paw pads to squish! But spider pads are different from other animals, as they have tiny hairs that help them stick to things and climb. (Once scientists found web residue in spider foot prints so they were like « they stick by excreting webbing from their feet! » and another groupe was like « bet, there is webbing everywhere! How do you know they’re not trailing it like toilet paper?» and covered a spiders butt with wax to keep the environment more clean, and there was no webbing there! I love science beef) his little feet’s are still probably sticky from webbing, so use a baby wipe or something to clean him up.

Males leave their burrows to go try and see if someone wants to mate (I’m not going into how they have to carry their little sperm web bag with them, because yes they have to take the sperm and put it into basically a little bag to put in the female!) so only when he’s actually interested does he start to leave his room for you! He helps clean up ramshackle I bet! Or uses robots to help clean it…

Different breeds have different mating styles, but the peacock spider does a little dance, shaking his butt around and he’s like « please, please, please, please plea-«  or they also tap a little pattern on the females webbing to see if she’s willing,

Spiders don’t have genders until I think their third molt, and that’s just a free fun fact!

So many cute and interesting things.

I think of Ortho being a dif creature from his brother. Maybe cuz of their parents are dif creatures with one being a spider and the others something else or current or past ortho was a spider but always wanted to be something different so Idia decided to be a cool bro and make him a body that lets him be whatever he wants.

So, imagine he has all these diff creature bods. Dog, bunny, frog, bee, spooder, and whatever else.

Part of me thinks Idia helping to clean would just him picking you up under the arms like a cat and lifting you to reach things which would be so funny to see.

It would be cute if Yuu kept baby wipes with them and helped Idia keep those spider feeties clean when he needs it.

It would be pretty freaking cool Seeing Idia do the soda can thing, i feel like he would try not to do it around you at first but forgets but then you act all impressed and tell him it's cool and he's flustered.

Poor Idia on those windy days. Makes me think of that orange cat that hates the beach cuz it was windy.

He makes that face whenever it gets windy.

Hmmm the hairs though...in this AU I think of the hairs he has being soft of fluffy baby they get stiff when scared so he can do that thing, or it becomes that way cuz magic.

....I'm just picturing him doing his scared yelling while doing it and I can't stop laughing. It's just such a silly mental image and I love it.

Thank you for all the information and Ideas, I love them.

[quite-an-odd-fellow]

Normal Oak-Swallows-Garcia-Marlowe-Lee-Wilson-Swift-The Unworthy, a not so Perky Peppy guy (spoilers through season 2, episode 44 of Dungeons and Daddies)

Will Campos is a brilliant role player, which was already evident from watching him play Henry, but to me Normal shines as the one that actually suppresses his emotions effectively, leaving him emotionally isolated.

Taylor never really tries to hide what he’s feeling, but even Scary and Link who do try to hide their feelings are usually pretty obvious about it anyway. Her tummy never hurt, she just wanted the attention. “Boss Kicks” is pretty clearly not a mature person who’s moved on from learning the truth about his father.

But Normal? He always backs down. Always lets it go. Puts on a grin, because he’s a mascot at heart and he at least needs a mask if he can’t be wearing the Teenie head. Everything gets pushed down so he can carry on with enthusiasm. He loves these people, because they’re his only friends and he can’t rely on his family. None of them really notice him, though.

Somehow perfectly reminiscent of Henry’s anxieties in a realistic generational way without playing into things too heavily, Normal is standing on the edge of a tightrope that’s always threatening to snap. He takes about a dozen punches to the trauma center of his brain throughout these adventures, from his father not being proud of him, to Taylor and Link bonding and becoming closer to each other while he’s left to the side, to Scary trying to sabotage everything he’s working towards, to Hermie rejecting him then immediately offering a date he doesn’t care about if he’ll kill Scam, you get the picture.

In the end, he tries so hard to get everyone to be close, happy, good, and better than their fathers that he sometimes crosses the line without realizing it.

In episode 44, he tries in his own way to bring Scary to a better place. He figures it’s a good idea for her to apologize to Tony Pepperoni, he felt guilty about their involvement, so surely Scary must want to get some of that weight off her chest too, she was the reason he died! Even if misguided, his heart was in the right place. Inevitably, he's met with anger and disdain from Link and Taylor, who never give him an inch.

What can he say, though? Lark and Sparrow don’t like the way he is. His ‘friends’ often don’t like the way he is, and they all partner up with each other without him. Hermie rejects him pretty harshly and then tries to use him to get with his 'better' friend/wife.

Nobody likes him, from his perspective. Honestly, from my perspective too. Link likes (crushes on? It feels that way to me) Scary the most, from how I see it. Taylor feels like his best friend, and Normal’s… his childhood friend that’s a part of the group? They aren’t the same kind of close.

Taylor is mostly just chaotically Taylor, but often butts heads with Normal’s ideals. He doesn’t really show any signs of caring. Even he focused in on Scary, although it was with negative feelings. He’s besties with Link and loves to get into shenanigans with him. But he never really pays attention to Normal, or has fun with him.

Scary I think actually does somewhat like Normal, but has been too in her own head to give thought to him. Clearly she opposed and was angry with him at her worst, but in lighter moments she actually sort of looked out for him in her own way. In the most recent episode, she clearly puts a bit more thought towards him than before now that he’s so obviously upset. Link is too, but it comes off more as guilt for now than concern. Unfortunately that’s kind of the only time she actually shows real thought towards him, and he’s already been pushed off the edge.

I’ve been waiting a long time for Normal to have his full breakdown. His sister is literally named Hero, she was made for this, not him. Nobody liked Teenie until Link danced in the costume. His friends aren’t actually his friends. His parents don’t even like who he is. He thinks he’s good for nothing.

So he throws on that crumbling mask, putting back on the shell he’d tried to break out of, and stews in silence. Hides because there’s nothing left holding him together but the tiniest thread of the mascot surrounding him keeping him from shattering.

It’s beautiful, and this season has absolutely knocked me on my ass.

Normal is such a well crafted lonely teenager who can’t seem to fit in. It’s why I think he was so connected to the Doodler. The Doodler is in his family’s blood, they all either desire it’s demise or were literally born to bring it about, but he empathized with it. Wanted to show it unconditional love, because that’s all he’s ever wanted. And even that connection is overshadowed by Scary’s connection with it.

This poor, poor boy. All of the cast has had great moments that made me feel like this too, but damn is he a well roleplayed teenager. I feel that gut punch every time he’s pushed to the side or laughs off his traumas like I was in high school all over again.

I absolutely cannot wait for the next episode, and am cautiously hoping that by the end of his arc we can see the kid be happy and know that he’s loved.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Me Rating the Super Mario Bros movie characters performances (now that the Euphoria of the movie has calmed down)

Spoilers below

Mario:

Everyone wants to bag on Chris for being Mario. But I will say, He pulled it off well. There was an accent and if you weren’t listening for it, you probably wouldn’t know it was Chris Pratt voicing him. Say what you will, but Chris knows how to voice act the Everyman hero type. That’s Mario. His love for his brother and Captain America levels of determination make him admirable and not stale. The decision to go more for a Brooklyn accent was a nod to the 1980’s show and I appreciate it. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s what was needed for Mario. 7.5/10

Luigi:

Charlie day was near perfect casting for Luigi. I will be honest, I thought this would just be Charlie day voicing luigi and while funny he usually would teeter on annoying. But for his performance, Luigi had great comedic timing, relatable, supportive and cowardly. It’s honestly captures luigi perfectly. He does get some great lines, I will say the only flaw is how he was sidelined. It felt less like a Mario bros. Movie and more like a Mario and Donkey Kong movie. But in the third act he does bring in some good chops. I do like how they maximized his performance. 8.5/10

Peach:

Anya Taylor-joy as Peach. So I’m conflicted here. It’s not a bad performance, but I wouldn’t say the voice felt like peach. When Peach has the softer moments and is acting like a ruler, I think she is great. But the first half of the movie, she felt surprisingly cold to Mario. And I get that he is a stranger, but peach’s whole bit is her compassion and care. Peach can kick ass, that’s not the issue (plenty of source material shows she can hold her own) my problem is that she felt like she was missing her sweetness. Near the end we see her soften and it could be argued that Peach wasn’t really feeling sweet because of the situation… but anyone whose played a Mario game knows that’s not an issue. She didn’t need to be a damsel in distress, I just like when my peaches are sweeter. Also I wanted some Mareach. But I’m not gonna reflect that in the rating 5/10.

Donkey Kong

It’s just Seth Rogen’s voice. Now it’s not an awful performance. But everytime he spoke, I heard Seth. That being said, the character was fine. I liked Mario and DK’s Frenemy dynamic. They clearly butt heads and compete. It’s amusing. That being said, I wish Luigi got more scenes, instead of Seth Kong. He is never irritating, I do enjoy the cockiness and overall flare, but I wish they did something more with it 5/10

Toad:

Keegan Micheal-key’s Take on Toad is inspired. I found myself enjoying whenever Toad is on screen. I had no worries regarding his performance. But similar to Luigi, he isn’t given much to do. His main thing is a couple of gags and moving the plot along. I love him and wish he had more time given. 8/10

Kamek:

Kevin Micheal Richardson didn’t just do good in this roll, HE ABSOLUTELY SLAYED as Kamek. The loyal servant/father figure/ hype man of Bowser nails that slimy ness and fear he has for bowser. His dialogue is great, he is also just so much fun on screen. He did not need to go this hard for Kamek, but he did. 9/10

Cranky kong:

Fred Armisen phoned it in. This didn’t feel at all like Cranky to me. He didn’t even sound old. I’m glad he isn’t in the movie long but it bothered me. It’s just the kind of performance where you aren’t mad, just disappointed

2/10

King Penguin

Khary Payton, For a character basically made for the movie, he was perfect. My bias on both the Voice actor and Penguins. He had great lines, coming off as epic and comedic. His reaction to the Luma was also glorious. He wasn’t there for too long but he was there the right amount. 8/10

Bowser

Let’s talk about Jack Black as bowser. It’s perfect casting. Jack black PERFECTLY blended all of the bowser’s together to create in my opinion, the best version of bowser. In a vain similar to how Heath Ledger combined different Joker’s to make his performance. This bowser is intimidating, arrogant, funny, a simp, cruel, and overall everything you want in a kids movie villain. I could write a whole analysis on how this bowser is basically a perfect kids movie villain. But that is for another day. The power ballad alone makes him worthy of 10/10. Easiest 10/10 ranking I’ve made

[m4g0rtz]

🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉

OMG It's been a YEAR!!!!!!!

🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉

A year of daily nail polish posts. How is that even possible??? 😱 I set out a year ago to photograph and post my daily manicures cause chronic illness sucks and finding joy where you can is important. And now here we are a year later. Btw here is what a years worth of nail polishes look like in case you were curious:

359 manicure posts. Endless bottles of top coat, base coat, and peely base coat. (I wish I'd kept better track of it, but my best guess is at least 18 bottles of each cause I went through about 1.5 bottles of top coat, base coat, and peely base per month. Plus at least 5 bottles of matte topcoat for an estimated total of 59 bottles of everything. 🤯) Hours and hours taking and editing pictures and videos. And a whole bunch of new Tumblr friends that I've made along the way. 🥰

I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all. If you interacted with my posts regularly you're why I made it all the way to a year. Thank you so much @l0vegl0wsinthedark @phdmama @comaraudery @muddyclump @getawayfox @lesmotsdemoi @vmcgmidlifecrisis @caroll-in @xx-thedarklord-xx @lqtraintracks @unfiltered-alice-liddle @taigasrandomshit @fayerye @shealwaysreads. I tried to tag more, but Tumblr wouldn't let me. 😭 Honestly though, every person who liked my posts on an even semi regular basis: I recognized your icons and smiled every time I saw you in my notes. I do have to give a special shout-out to @julcheninred for not only cheering me along the whole way but also for convincing me to start doing this in the first place. Sending you every barnyard noise on Old McDonald's farm! ♥️🦖♥️🐄♥️🐖♥️🐑♥️🦆♥️🐎♥️

Moving forward I think I am going to change things up JUST a bit. I still plan on making a post every time I paint my nails, which will be most days (cause I still have a TON of untried polishes 😅👀), but I'm going to be less strict about trying to post EVERY day. I'm hoping that this will give me more chances to do nail art, which is something that is hard to do and then take off a day later. I'd also enjoy keeping a polish on for more than a day if it's one I really love. 😂 This will also help with those days where my chronic illness is kicking my butt and I need a day to rest.

Thank you all again. You don't know how much doing this has helped me get through this past year. Looking forward to sharing even more manicures with you in the year to come! 💖💖💖

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 14 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Blood. Assault in various forms. Miscarriage. Death/Mourning. Pregnancy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: I'm so sorry in advance, y'all, cuz this one might knock you on your ass with its dramatic angst and give you whiplash after the last few chapters. Honestly, I hurt myself a bit with this one! *sob* Needless to say, the tone is a bit different here. Please make sure you read the trigger warnings for this part because there are some sensitive topics!

While I hesitated to make a part all in flashback, I couldn't seem to avoid it without creating a ridiculously giant chapter, and I also didn't want to make you wait that long, so here it is, complete with a cliffhanger!

Speaking of that, thank you for being so patient while I got this out. Life is kicking my butt a bit, and I SO appreciate you hanging in there with me!

Also, look out for some fun 1960 Elvis posts/reblogs later so you can get the full visual of his March 1960 glory, in case I haven't described it well enough LOL. I included a Rollerdome pic at the end as well.

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to Elvis Twitter, who stumbled into the Pink Scarf vortex and are now with us in the chokehold of '69 Pink Scarf Era Elvis and are supporting and sharing this lil' fic over there--I see you and appreciate you! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

March 1960

You shouldn’t feel nervous. It’s just Elvis. But having not seen him in person in over 18 months, or even really being able to talk on the phone, you wonder if too much time has passed, if too much has changed, if the man who went into the Army two years ago is still the friend you cherished.

You wait in front of Graceland in the icy March air with Jack and a multitude of other close friends and relations for Elvis to arrive, shivering in your heavy coat. It’s a strange limbo you all are in, this energy of the end of one thing and the start of something new and unknown. You can’t help feeling that everything is different somehow, that a new era has begun.

This feeling is compounded by the secret you are keeping. You had been wary to accept that your greatest hope is finally coming true, but after your appointment yesterday afternoon, you are finally starting to settle into the fact that new life is growing inside you. You haven’t told anyone yet, not even Jack, since Elvis’ imminent arrival has taken over everyone’s minds. While you have no need to be the center of attention, you also know that the news would get lost in Elvis’ return. No one could compete with Elvis for any sort of attention. It would be a losing battle.

Honestly, you are glad to sit with the knowledge on your own for a moment, to give yourself a minute to adjust to your new reality. And part of you is still quite scared that this could all be over in a flash. It’s still early, the doctor said, even though you were further along than you’d originally thought. But after two years of nothing, there is a piece of you that doesn’t want to get your hopes up.

Perhaps that is truly why you’re feeling nervous and it’s nothing to do with Elvis at all.

Everyone around you starts to buzz, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see the police cruiser, lights and sirens and all, coming up the long drive. When it finally pulls up in front of the house and Elvis gets out, everyone explodes with liveliness.

It takes a moment for the small crowd to clear enough for you to see him fully. When his tall frame comes completely into view, you feel like all the air has been knocked out of your body. You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud.

He looks beyond incredible. So incredible, in fact, that your heart is suddenly fluttering in your chest like a schoolgirl’s. You have seen him in his uniform before, of course, but the last time, he was so miserable after the death of his mother that the uniform seemed like a prison, an unforgiving punishment almost. Of course, you’d also seen pictures for publicity and ones he sent home which would occasionally show him in his uniform. He always was handsome, to be sure, but now…now, something was different.

You try to put your finger on it because it really has thrown you for a loop. You aren’t some fawning, adoring fan, for god’s sake. But you cannot help but openly stare at the man in front of you. He positively glows. His blue eyes sparkle with the happiness of being home, but it’s not only that. Taking off his cap and tucking it under his arm, he surveys the small crowd and his home with joy. The blue of his dress uniform brings out the reddish-blonde of his natural hair color and the blush on his cheeks. His hair is long again on top, grown out and curled up and mussed from his hat. Compared to the Army buzz cut, it is more reminiscent of his signature coiffed 50’s style, but somehow more mature yet rebellious at the same time. It suits him very well, you think, highlighting high cheekbones, long face, and his now quite chiseled jaw.

Elvis’ whole face is lit up with happiness, that signature grin white and wide, as friends and family gather around him. You can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy to see that smile again in person. When you finally catch his eye, you feel like the whole world stops. It’s ridiculous really, the way your heart throbs in your ears, but you swear his face changes almost imperceptibly when he sees you. You’re not exactly sure how, but it softens somehow, imbued with just a little more warmth than he’s already exuding. His eyes travel over you only briefly before Jack reaches out to embrace him, but in that short moment, you suddenly feel self-conscious.

Once his eyes leave you, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding. You look down, clasping your hands in front of you, but when you look up again, Elvis is looking at you from over Jack’s shoulder. You are absolutely caught in his blue-eyed gaze.

Stop being stupid, it’s just Elvis.

Perhaps your sudden intimidation by your dear friend is that he left Graceland a boy but has returned a man. Even though he’s thin, it’s in a leaner, more carved, more refined way than before. He still retains a bit of his baby face, but his countenance is different, settled, more worldly.

After exchanging words with Jack that you are too overcome to hear, Elvis steps around him and comes towards you, his attentions focused completely on you.

“Hey there, y/n darlin’,” he says gently, his voice still heavily accented, high and bright.

“Welcome home, Elvis,” you say. It barely sounds like you, you think, too quiet and soft and breathless. You ring your hands nervously.

He begins to open his arms and you know he means to embrace you, and all of a sudden, you are certain you are going to faint. It’s as if you know that if he touches you, right here and now, looking as he does and with the way his essence is radiating around you, something will be irrevocably changed. Your heart flutters and your breath rate increases, and you almost panic as he closes the gap, those eyes of his looking at you in such a way that you feel completely, utterly exposed. You want to run away, but you are frozen to the spot.

Just as he steps up to you, he’s attacked from the side by his young cousin. The moment between you is thankfully interrupted, and you instantly step back and behind Jack as the boy wrestles Elvis.

“Jesus, kid, a little warning next time!” he shouts playfully, putting the kid in a headlock and rubbing his knuckle into his head. He catches your eye for a fraction of a second, his face somewhere between regret and chagrin at not being able to hug you. You manage a small smile, but practically hide behind Jack, grabbing his hand as you warily look on.

The horde gratefully moves inside, out of the cold late winter chill. The look that flashes over Elvis’ face as he crosses the threshold is one of trepidation, grief. You realize being home must come with mixed emotions; after all, the last time he was here was when his dear mama passed, and this was the home he’d gotten for her.

You’re not sure that anyone else catches how his breath hitches and how those pretty eyes become anxious. In that moment, you forget all about the strange reaction you had to him not a minute ago and you ache to go to him, to pull him into your arms and tell him it’ll all be okay.

It seems like both forever and just yesterday that he wept in your arms on the stairs, bereft and inconsolable, as his mother lay in the other room in her casket. He had refused to leave her, petting her, and talking their baby talk to her for so long that they had finally placed glass over her to dissuade him. Even then, he had sat vigil by her side and as you all looked on in collective grief, as the concern for him and his deteriorating state was palpable. Almost no one was able to get him away for longer than a few minutes—first it was the Colonel near shoving him and Vernon out the door and into the arms of the vultures with the cameras outside. Then, Sam Phillips was able to console him for a bit. Jack and the boys and Anita all tried to pull him away, but they were only swept up by him to go see Gladys, and his tearful ramblings continued about how beautiful she looked and her tiny little “sooties,” and then his wailing and sobbing would commence once again.

His mama had always been more than kind to you, and you cried for her loss, but it was truly Elvis’ grief that had the tears rolling down your cheeks. But you hadn’t wanted to overstep your bounds. However, he’d stopped eating and drinking, and looked positively exhausted, eyes rimmed with dark circles. Eventually, you could stand it no more.

“Elvis, honey, I need you…” you’d said, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. He’d looked up at you sharply, eyes so bloodshot and filled with tears that the blue of his irises seemed unnaturally bright, his innocence and grief leeching out of them. You faltered then at the state of him, stumbling over your words, wanting to be as kind as possible. You cleared your throat, continuing, “I need you to come with me, sweetie.”

And somehow, against all odds, he listened to you, of all people. Wordlessly, he’d stood, drawing you tightly to him, his arm gripping your waist and his tall frame leaning on you for support, nearly knocking you over. You’d stumbled with him to the stairs, and he’d just collapsed into you, his head buried into your neck, clinging to you as if drowning in his grief and you were his life preserver. His heart wrenching sobs had silent tears flowing down your own cheeks, and you’d held him, petting him, cooing at him, your protective gaze shooing the onlookers away.

Eventually, after some time, he quieted. You could feel the heat of his head through the now-soaked top of your dress. “Oh, E, you’re burning up,” you’d said, feeling his face with your hands. He’d worked himself into such a state that his body was rebelling against him, and you’d whispered to someone nearby to call the doctor.

At that point, he’d had little fight left in him, and Jack and Sam had helped get him up to bed once the doctor had come. But he’d still clung to you, not letting you leave him once in his ornate, darkened cave of a bedroom. Elvis wouldn’t settle or let the doctor administer the much-needed sedative until you were in the huge bed with him and he was curled in your lap. You had looked to Jack wide-eyed for some sort of support, part of you feeling a little scandalized by being invited into Elvis’ bed, but none of the men knew what to do, and you were the only one so far that had been able to get him away from Gladys. You just got harried looks of bewilderment from everyone, and the doctor had just nodded to you, as if giving you permission to climb up in with him, doctor’s orders. Anything to calm Elvis down.

So you had, your heart breaking for him, confused as to why it was you who he needed, not Anita or Vernon or Jack. Regardless of how strange it was, you were his friend, and you’d do anything to help, no matter your own comfort. You’d stayed with him through the night, back leaning up against the headboard awkwardly, staying even after the sedative took hold because when you’d tried to leave, he’d still clung to you, heavy and feverish.

For hours you’d held vigil over him, hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, eventually drifting in and out of sleep, though any movement from him had you startling awake. And when you woke in the morning, stiff as hell, and Elvis blinked up at you with those huge, grieving puppy dog eyes, the pang in your heart was evident and confusing.

After those few horrid days, you never spoke of it again. You never asked him why it was you who’d been able to reach him through his grief, and beyond a whispered “thank you” in your ear before he left for Germany, he never mentioned it again. Not that you’d seen him for him to do so. Maybe that is why you are nervous, you think, because the last time you saw him, he was so utterly lost, and for whatever reason, you had been a lifeline in one of his worst moments. And that feels significant somehow, though you aren’t sure exactly how.

That look you see in his eyes now reminds you too much of that look from 18 months ago. But there are a bunch of family and friends between the two of you, crowded in the entryway, bustling with excitement, all seemingly oblivious to Elvis’ distress.

It angers you a bit, the way they all clamor over him without truly seeing him. You stand as rooted as he is, as if your being able to move is tied to him somehow. He looks at you then, sensing your gaze or your thoughts in that almost preternatural way of his, and you see the overwhelm in his eyes. The way the endless blue of them seems clouded over with pain and grief. The way they almost beg you to save him.

This, out of everything, gets you in motion, stepping towards him in the crowded space, but there are so many damn people that you can’t get to him. By the time you sidestep cousins and friends, you’ve watched as his face changes, a mask slipping over those handsome features so seamlessly that it takes you aback. You stop short, amazed at the way he now smiles and laughs at the antics around him, as if nothing happened.

You realize he must’ve had to do this to survive over there. There was no way he could show that kind of vulnerability during tank maneuvers or whatever they had him doing. He’s protecting himself, you think.

But it still rubs you the wrong way. The ease with which he switched emotions was disconcerting to you. Somewhat bitterly, you think that he certainly didn’t need your help through his pain this time.

Oh, stop, you chide yourself. He’s been home all of five minutes and first you wanted to run away from him and now you’re mad his grief isn’t crippling him? What’s wrong with you?

“Okay, okay, y’all, I need to go get changed! The press is gonna be here any minute,” Elvis chuckles and waves you all off, climbing the stairs. His eyes catch yours in the briefest of moments and you swear there is something unsaid in them. And then he’s gone, up into his room.

A shiver passes over you, your stomach flipping, and then a wave of nausea comes.

Jack sees you and comes over with concern in his eyes, cupping your cheek. “You alright, treasure? You look a little green in the gills,” he says.

“I…uh…my stomach is upset, sweetie. Excuse me,” you say quickly, the bile rising, and you make quickly for the bathroom down the hall. Once safely locked away, you rush to the toilet, sick. Luckily, once out, the queasiness passes quickly.

The doctor said this could happen, you think, looking at the reflection of your red face in the mirror. You rinse your mouth out and splash your face with cold water. It certainly has nothing to do with Elvis. That would be absurd.

It’s just the look in his eyes is haunting you and you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s just your hormones being in overdrive. Yes, that makes sense. You are on edge and not seeing things clearly. Or maybe too clearly.

After a multitude of deep breaths, you straighten your dress and hair, then head back out into the fray. You find yourself in an empty house. You wander about to find that most everyone has gone back outside to witness Elvis’ triumphant return to Graceland as procured by the press.

They have arrived, littering the snow-dusted lawn and taking photographs and recordings of Elvis as he sits in front of a huge guitar shaped cake. You peek over someone’s shoulder and your jaw nearly drops at the sight. Clad now in all black, his wool coat is appropriate for the chill, but his black shirt is open halfway down his torso, a large gold medallion resting on his bare chest. If he’d looked like the All-American boy getting out of that car not 30 minutes ago, now he looks like the perfect combination of sweet and sinful.

Oh, dear lord.

His chestnut hair is perfectly imperfect, a rogue lock falling over his forehead. You think perhaps he’s added a little shadow and mascara to his eyes, or maybe he’s just exhausted from the long journey home, but whichever it is, the slight darkness on his lids gives him a stunningly beautiful look, his blue eyes popping and dancing with a combination of mischievousness, aloofness, and candor. Somehow, he has retained the youthful swell of his cheeks while also now having a jawline that could cut glass.

As you watch Elvis pick at the cake, deftly putting pieces of it in his mouth with his fingers, the innocent gesture seems almost obscene and that lightheaded feeling comes over you again, this time with a swell of warmth.

You want to look away, you really do, but you’ve forgotten your friend’s natural charm, how his essence pulls even the most unwilling into his orbit. His beauty is one thing, but the feeling that surrounds him is another thing all together. It’s not just you caught in the pull, however. Friends and family gather around, too, though they are likely not experiencing the same type of reaction as you.

Oh, this is utterly ridiculous, you think. Elvis has always been pretty and alluring. Get ahold of yourself.

You think it must be the pregnancy hormones, the way your body flushes from head to toe just watching him eat his cake and play to the camera. You force yourself not to follow as they direct Elvis towards Vernon’s office for the press conference, his tall frame gliding across the lawn in the most confident and nonchalant of ways. He commands his audience as though he’d never left, born to be at the forefront of everything. Focused on the cameras, he does not see you, or so you think, until he catches you staring and quirks his brow.

This finally prompts you to move, turning away quickly and heading back into the warmth of the house. You are glad for the cold, as it gives a reason for your cheeks to be as red as they are, and it douses your heated body with a much-needed chill.

You are embarrassed by your behavior. Elvis is not some idol to be gawked at, not by you. Perhaps it is because you feel so removed from him in his absence, or it is the unasked questions that linger in your mind from before he’d left, but your nerves buzz annoyingly.

You manage to avoid him after the press conference, as he’s utterly exhausted from his trip back home and all it had entailed and sends everyone on their way with the promise of a party the next evening.

Later, lying in bed, you wonder what in the hell came over you. It’s got to be the nerves and excitement about the life growing inside you colliding with the trepidation of your friend’s return all at once. You also know that pregnant women have a multitude of strange physical symptoms, especially in the early days, which would explain nearly everything.

That must be it. It’s not about Elvis at all. It’s your body telling you that you are pregnant.

Finally.

The thought sends a flutter of a different kind through your chest. It’s one of excitement and hope and a little fear. You place your hands on your belly, imbued with a sense of motherly responsibility. You drift to sleep thinking of holding your child in your arms.

*

The party the next night has Graceland lit up in a way it hasn’t been in years. An air of celebration surrounds the place, chasing away any of the leftover morbidity from Gladys’ passing. You hold Jack’s hand tightly as you enter the mansion, that strange anxiousness from yesterday threatening to ruin your night.

Maybe you should have told Jack about the baby before you came, but no moment seemed quite right. Telling him before work would have distracted him and telling him before the party still seemed to be stepping on the toes of Elvis’ return. Tomorrow, I’ll tell him for sure tomorrow, you think pointedly.

The warm air of the house nearly overwhelms you, and the two of you strip your heavy coats and head towards the sound of Elvis’ boisterous laughter. Your dress is fitted only at the waist and not over the belly, which you are glad for, even though you are hardly showing yet.

You manage to find a seat in the corner with Jack far enough from Elvis that you can breathe, as the fact that he still looks incredible has not changed in the last 24 hours. Why you are so completely stuck on his shocking handsomeness and consumed by whatever prowess he is exuding, you still do not quite know, but it continues to affect you and keep you wary. Shaking off your unhelpful thoughts, you busy yourself talking with Anita, Pat, and the other girls as the men joke and play. After a while, this finally settles your nerves, but you are very conscious of not letting yourself get too close to Elvis as the night goes on, as if being too near will disrupt the tenuous equilibrium you are trying to maintain.

Later in the evening, you excuse yourself and head to the restroom. You can’t help but look in the mirror, rubbing your belly even though it’s impossible to tell yet. This puts a smile on your face, your sweet little secret. And this is how you exit, smiling, stepping into the dimly lit hallway.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Shit!” you gasp, jumping out of your skin at Elvis leaning casually against the wall across from you. Your heart gallops against your ribcage, one hand flying to your heart and the other to your belly in a protective gesture. “Elvis, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry, y/n,” he says, pushing off the wall, eyes remorseful but watching you carefully.

You find yourself barely able to look at him with him being this close. You will your heart to slow, will yourself to act normal, but it’s like you can’t. You can’t quite meet his eyes, you can’t quite breathe and escape is all you can think of. You awkwardly gesture to the bathroom, thinking that it’s why he’s lurking in the hallway, and then you step away from him without another word.

“Hey, now,” he says from behind you, perturbed, “You wait just a damn minute.”

Elvis’ long fingers circle around your wrist, grabbing you, and it feels like fire. Startled, you turn back and look down at how he holds you firm. You hardly have a moment to process that he’s touching you before he’s pulling you into a room across the hallway. Yelping, you have no choice but to follow—he’s much stronger than you—and he holds fast as flips on the lamp and then shuts the door behind the two of you. He releases you, then folds his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Elvis…” you start, confused and shocked and trying to process whatever is going on.

“Did I make you mad or do something to offend you?” he interrupts, his voice laced with hurt. Those intense blue eyes of his lock you in place, betraying his churning emotions.

“What? No, what are you—?” you sputter out, faltering under his gaze and needing to look away.

“That! That right there. You can’t even hardly look at me!” he points, voice raising angrily. “You barely said three words to me since I been home!” He steps towards you and instinctually you step back, a hand flying to your belly, as the intensity of being this close to him has you completely overwhelmed.  

His eyes widen. “Look at you, you can’t even be in the same room as me without skittering away like a little bird. I thought I was imaginin’ it for a minute.” Elvis pauses, looking you over. “Are you afraid of me?” he asks quietly, the hurt palpable in both his body and voice.

Your heart aches at the sight of him like, forcing you to relax and be more mindful of your actions. “No, of course I’m not afraid of you, Elvis,” you breathe. You aren’t, truly.

“Then what did I do?” he asks with such childlike innocence, such hurt, that your heart breaks for causing it.

“Nothing, E, you didn’t do anything, I swear,” you insist, going to him, unable to bear the look on his cherubic face. You force yourself to get close, pushing through your silly fears.

“Why ya bein’ so strange then, baby?” Elvis asks, eyes scanning your face. This close, you realize you could fall and drown in their oceanic blue intensity.

How can you answer that? You certainly cannot say, “Yes, Elvis, I’m being strange because you came back too handsome and your charming presence overwhelms me, and I don’t know where I stand with you, and oh, by the way, I’m pregnant.”

Your brain scrambles for an answer as the tension between the two of you increases to a level that has you sweating, and you blink up at him, flustered. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be like that…I guess I am afraid that you’re different, or that things have changed too much while you were gone, or that it’s been too long and that you might not, I don’t know, you might not see me as your friend anymore?” you prattle on, the honesty in your words surprising you. The idea and the truth of it brings tears to your eyes.

His beautiful face softens, his mouth popping open as emotions flash over his features so quickly that you cannot grasp them completely. You feel utterly caught up in him, the loss of control and your feelings frightening you.

“Never,” Elvis whispers finally, “Never in a million years could that happen, baby.” The way he looks down at you is charged, confusing, intense.

Your heart flips. A rogue tear slips down your cheek. Stupid hormones.

You are close enough now that you can feel the energy of him pulsate around you. It makes your breath catch when he brushes the tear off your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. You’re not sure if you can bear him touching you more than that because it sends a shockwave through your body.

“So, you missed me?” he asks, a sideways grin beginning to widen on his face.

“’Course I missed you, you idiot,” you sniffle.

“Some way of showin’ it,” he jokes now, breaking some of the tension.

“Well, I’ve had some things on my mind,” you say pointedly. “Life didn’t stop just cuz you were in Germany, ya know.”

You don’t realize that your arm has been wrapped over your belly all this time. Elvis narrows his eyes at you, steps back, and then looks you over very deliberately. Self-conscious and confused under the scrutiny, you blush.

“What?” you ask nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

A huge smile spreads over his features and his eyes light up. “Congratulations, doll,” he grins at you.

He knows. Elvis, of all people, knows your secret after spending less than five minutes with you.

You are shocked enough that you don’t try to deny it. “I…How…?” you stutter out.

“You bein’ so skittish and protective, and the way you been holdin’ yourself this whole time is different. Explains that real pretty glow about ya, too,” he says, booping your nose playfully.

You blush harder. “Elvis, I just found out. No one knows yet, not even Jack, so don’t you dare go saying anything yet. It’s still real early,” you say in a warning tone.

Elvis nods, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Seriously, E, not a freakin’ word, promise me!” you say. He is a terrible secret keeper.

“Okay, okay, I promise!” he grins.

“Lord, with the way you’re buzzing, you’d think I was having your baby!” you laugh.

Something changes in his eyes, but it’s gone so quick that you can’t put your finger on it. He does still a bit, though, and you look at him quizzically. He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you openly. The air has shifted once again.

“Well, we should probably get back out there. Everybody must be missing the man of the hour,” you say, clearing your throat and turning to leave.

Before you can go far, Elvis’ fingers dance over yours, reaching, as if wanting to hold your hand and pull you back but hesitating as if he shouldn’t. Your breath catches, an odd feeling blooming in your chest, like you are falling. You look back and down, seeing and feeling his fingers graze yours in such a strangely much-too-intimate way. He doesn’t stop, fingers brushing and winding through yours. You can’t help the way yours start to move around his in the now heavy silence. Your eyes raise to meet his, heart racing.

“Y/n, I—” he starts to say, voice low and gaze intense.

“EP!! Where the hell you at, man?” Red shouts from the hallway, startling you both, causing you to drop your hands as though they were suddenly on fire. As if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Elvis visibly shakes himself off and crosses in front of you to open the door. It opens a crack and then he stops, turning back to you quickly, mouth open as if he wants to finish what he was trying to say. He must think better of it, though, because he just shakes his head again and sucks in his cheeks before heading out the door without another word.

You pause, frozen to the spot, as your heart thunders in your ears. Befuddled, you try and process the last few minutes, try to piece out what the hell just happened. Your hand splays on your belly, your face hot and your body warm.

You were right, you think, a lot has changed. Everything and nothing, all at once.

*

After that, things move quickly. With Elvis’ new knowledge, you tell Jack immediately about the baby, pulling him aside at the party. He is thrilled.

A few blissful weeks pass. You’ve been feeling okay physically, just some nausea and lightheadedness, but your nerves are still a bit on edge. The strange moment between you and Elvis the night of the party lingers in your mind, just under the surface, and every time you see him, that odd falling feeling comes over you for a moment. It doesn’t help that when he sees you, something in him changes. It’s so subtle that you doubt anyone notices; in fact, you think you could be imagining it if not for the charged, unreadable look in his eyes. But to you he seems overly attentive to your every move, protective even.

You try and chalk this weird intuition and the way your body feels up to the pregnancy. Your body is changing a little each day, and maybe this is just a part of it.

Elvis has been enjoying his few weeks at home before everything starts up for him again, and consequently, so have all of you, finding yourselves pulled back into his orbit easily. He’s travelling down to Miami soon to be on Frank Sinatra’s show and then he starts filming his next movie in April. You have mixed feelings about this, dreading him leaving so soon again, but you also think perhaps it is a good thing to be away from him considering the tricks your mind seems to be playing on you.

Tonight, he rents out the Rainbow Rollerdome for an evening of what he dubs the “Roller Skating Wars.” You, of course, will not be skating in your condition, but that certainly doesn’t stop you from putting on a cute polka dotted dress and going to observe the chaos you know will ensue.

Jack, unfortunately, stays home, struck suddenly in the afternoon with a sore throat and fever. You tell him you will stay home and take care of him, but he brushes you off and tells you he’s just going to be sleeping anyway, that you should go and have fun. He practically pushes you out the door.

When you arrive at the Rollerdome, you quickly find the girls and plant yourself in one of the big booths with a coke, some popcorn, and some candy. Your cravings for sweets have been intense this last week, and you pick delightfully at the confections as you watch everyone skate around.

Elvis has a silly grin plastered on his face as he wheels up to your table, his hair so long and fluffy on top that it bounces with him, product keeping it standing nearly straight up. On anyone else, it would look absolutely ridiculous, but with Elvis being Elvis, it just seems to highlight how incredibly handsome he’s become. Honestly, he nearly takes your breath away in his dark polo with the popped collar, his eyes electric and dancing, his face long and jaw chiseled.

At least you know that you aren’t the only one noticing the change in his looks, because the other girls seem to blush and smile more as he looms over you all, the skates putting him nearly six and a half feet tall.

“Ladies, everybody got their skates?” he drawls charmingly.

Everyone giggles and there’s a chorus of “Yes, Elvis!” as they show off their skates. For a moment, you are a bit upset that you can’t skate, but that is quickly banished by the excitement of the life growing inside you.

“Well, go on then!” he motions, and the ladies scurry, happy to be summoned.

After they clamor out of the booth, Elvis looks at you more seriously.

“No skating for you tonight, right?” he asks protectively, cobalt eyes narrowing.

Your heart does that falling thing for a moment before you respond. “Nope, feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much!” you smile.

He nods, pleased by this. “Where’s Jack? I haven’t seen him,” he asks, looking around.

“Oh, he’s at home, sick. Booted me out of there. I think he was annoyed at me hovering, to be honest,” you chuckle.

“You gonna be okay over here? I don’t want you to be by yourself,” Elvis says, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll come and watch you all here in a minute. My back’s bothering me a bit, so I’m fine to sit for a spell.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, brow furrowing, as if sensing something about you that you couldn’t sense yourself.

“Yes, E, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. Now, shoo, and go have some fun, but for god’s sake don’t go killin’ yourself or anyone else out there!” you laugh.

Elvis looks at you in that unreadable way of his for a moment, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “No promises!” he shouts as he skates away.

You let out a breath after he leaves. His presence is still overwhelming to you, no matter how much you try to logic it away, so for now you are just accepting it. Such is living a life with Elvis in it.

Your back really is starting to bother you, which you attribute to the obvious, and after a few minutes alone, you realize you would rather be around people than not. You get up from the booth, then a wave of dizziness overtakes you and you grab the edge of the table for support as you blink away the spots in your eyes.

You wonder for a moment if you might be coming down with whatever Jack has, but your throat is fine. After a moment, the wave mostly passes, so you make your way to the skating rink to watch the group from the sidelines. There are a few people on the sidelines, and you have fun making small talk and watching the antics in the rink. After a bit, most of the girls come back out as Elvis and the boys are getting pretty rough, and part of you is a little glad Jack isn’t here to get injured.

You ignore the ache in your back (it’s just something you’ll have to get used to, after all) and another wave of lightheadedness hits you as you all head back to the table. You are starting to feel distracted, your stomach churning now a bit, too, and you remind yourself that being pregnant isn’t necessarily a picnic. You feel a bit claustrophobic now, shoved in the booth with the other ladies, and excuse yourself to the restroom, thinking it might be time to go home.

Something’s wrong, you think, a feeling of dread coming over you. Forcing yourself to breathe, you remind yourself again and again that you are just pregnant and these are symptoms of that. You pause at the water fountain to drink, hoping the water might settle your stomach.

As you are bent over, someone zips behind you on skates, then suddenly you feel a hand groping your backside.

Yelping, you choke on the water and jump, turning around.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” a man you don’t recognize leers at you, way too close for comfort.

“Excuse me,” you say haughtily, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, making your lightheadedness even worse. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“Naw, you’re the prettiest girl in here. Why ya all by your lonesome?” he purrs at you, the sound setting off every warning bell in your body, adrenaline clashing with your dizziness and churning stomach. He leans down, as if to try and kiss you and you push him back.

“Leave me alone!” you say, your voice raising in both volume and pitch. You try to sidestep him, but he grabs you hard and presses you into the wall. You think you might vomit all over him.

“Don’t be like that! All I want is a little kiss,” he says, one wandering hand groping your chest as his lips come at you.

“Don’t touch me! Stop it!” you shriek, trying to squirm out of his grasp as his disgusting mouth roams over your face and neck. Your body betrays you, though, your back throbbing, weakness overcoming your limbs, and you can’t fight him off. You curse the fact that the bathrooms are so far back from the rest of the group, and you pray that someone hears you.

“Get off of me!” you try to scream, but he’s trying to silence you with his hand. Panic overtakes you now as you realize this man is going to hurt you, but in your current state, you are unable to fight.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!” You hear the low growl before the horrible man boxing you in is yanked backwards and sideways, his eyes bulging in surprise. You gasp as you watch Elvis collide with the man, his momentum from how fast he must have been skating sending the man flying.

The man stumbles and rolls, flailing and falling, and Elvis looks like you’ve never seen him before as he spins around. His eyes are dark and lethal, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his chest heaves with his breath. He looks terrifying, his focus singular, and you are almost afraid for the man. Almost.

“I asked you a fucking question,” Elvis growls again, pulling the dazed man upright by his shirt. “What the fuck were you doin’ to her?!” he yells, pulling back his arm and then socking the man in the jaw so hard you can hear the crack. The man is stunned for a moment, blood beginning to seep from the corner of his mouth, but he recovers, taking a swing at Elvis.

It barely grazes him and doesn’t even phase Elvis, who seems possessed. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch her!” Elvis shouts, then punches the man in the face again, hard, sending him flying.

Things are happening so fast, you can barely process it. You can hardly breathe, the waves of dizziness pouring over you, making it hard to focus.

Elvis goes for the man again, and suddenly you are fearful he might kill him because he seems so blacked out with rage. Elvis hits him again and the man falls to the floor in a heap, bloody and bruised.

“Elvis, Elvis, stop!” you try to call out, but your voice is too quiet, wavering, and he is too far gone. You need to stop him before he does something he cannot take back, and you know something is wrong with you because you can’t get your body to move the way you need it to.

It’s then that a sharp, searing pain burns in your abdomen, and a primal scream bursts from your lungs. A shockwave of agony rolls through you, knocking the breath from your body. It’s so sudden and all-encompassing that you see red, and you clutch at your belly, your head spinning, fearing the worst.

The baby.

Your cry finally snaps Elvis back to reality because he’s with you in a flash, fear and concern flashing over his features, replacing the fury that was there mere seconds ago.

“Y/n! Y/n, what is it? Did he hurt you?” he gasps, looking you over as tears stream down your cheeks.

You can’t catch your breath, and your heart is beating too fast. Then, you feel hot liquid spread from your belly downwards, life spilling out of you, running down your legs. You feel sick as you look down, Elvis’ gaze following your own. That’s when you see the dark red begin to stain your dress and your stockings.

It’s over, it’s over, the baby, oh god, runs through your head, a dismal chant in your mind. You look at Elvis with resigned horror, but you are feeling so lightheaded, you can barely focus on anything. Even the pain starts to wane and feel distant. You know this isn’t normal, even for a miscarriage. Something is terribly wrong.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you hear him beg, his hands on your face, your shoulders, his eyes wild with terror now. “We need help over here!” he bellows, never taking his eyes off you.

They are so beautiful, those crystalline eyes, those dark lashes, you think absently as you begin to slump over.

You are somewhat aware of his strong arms catching you as he slides down with you to the floor. They feel so warm and comforting, you think. You blink up at him, your vision starting to dim.

“Y/n, no, don’t you dare, you stay w-w-with me, b-baby,” Elvis says in a panic, shaking you, pulling you into his lap. A sharp metallic smell permeates the air. “Somebody c-call a damn ambulance!” you hear him shout. You can hear the terror in his voice, in his stutter, and you wonder why he’s so scared. You’ve never heard him this scared.

“Elvis?” you whisper. You try to keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard.

“Yeah, b-b-baby?” his voice shudders. You can feel his chest heaving as he presses you into him, rocking you, tucking your head under his. He always has to be moving, his energy always vibrating around him.

“I feel so strange…” you say, and you do. You’re aware of the pain but it feels so far away. Everything feels far away except for the heat of Elvis, which feels like a blanket around you. With the warmth pouring out of you, you start to feel cold.

“I-I-I know, baby. Come on, you stay awake, now,” he says in your ear as your eyes start to close. He shakes you again. You force them to flutter open. You think whatever is happening must be really bad if he’s so scared.

“Tell Jack I…I love him,” you breathe quietly, just in case.

“You tell him yourself, damnit,” Elvis chokes out, pulling you in closer.

“Thanks for…being…my friend…so good to me,” you say, but it’s not enough. You can’t seem to get the right words out, your mouth filling with cotton. You bring your shaking fingers up to his cheek, your face is buried in his neck, his smell surrounding you. He smells so nice. He feels so good wrapped around you. You’re not nervous to be near him anymore, all of that seems so silly now. Your hand drifts and you feel his full lips under your fingertips. They really are as soft as they look.

You can’t keep your eyes open anymore and blackness starts to swallow you, your hand falling onto his chest, but you feel unusually calm.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go. I-I love you, y/n, please, I love y…” Elvis whispers pleadingly in your ear.

His quiet, startling confession fades away and is the last thing you hear before the world goes completely dark and silent.

*

Elvis at the Rainbow Rollerdome, March 19th, 1960

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[sentientgolfball]

Hello! It's very funny but maybe Dews reaction to an s/o gifting or showing them goats in a petting zoo?

I've been on a Dew kick for the last 24 hours so now was the perfect time to crack this one open :))

I just think he's neat

My requests are open !

When you offhandedly mentioned you were from the area tomorrow’s show was to a couple of other techies you did not expect it to lead you here. You were just making small talk since everything got set up in record time. You didn’t have much to do so you killed time by chatting. Someone ended up asking what there was to do around here and you began listing off things you could remember that seemed somewhat entertaining. Then the words petting zoo left your mouth and suddenly you had a very excited Aurora in front of you asking what that was and if you could show her. 

You happily explained the concept to her, though you weren’t sure if you could take her without Papa’s permission since it wasn’t actually that close to the venue. She ran off after that and the other techies who watched the exchange just laughed and wished you luck. You were a little confused until she returned twenty minutes later with the entire pack, fully glamoured, and Papa Copia without his paint. You figured he’d just ask for the name of the place or directions and leave it at that, but no, he actually invited you along since you were familiar with the area. 

That’s how you ended up in a place pulled straight from your childhood memories with a bunch of demons in human disguises attempting to feed little farm animals. 

“It is good for them to explore” Copia chuckled and patted your shoulder “I would rather them do it like this than in a less ehh legal way.” 

You watch with amusement as he walks over to Mountain who seems to be locked in a staring contest with an alpaca. You were about ready to join them when you realized there was one ghoul who had not moved from the original meeting spot at the entrance. 

Dewdrop.

He was usually so full of energy and fired up, but now he was rigid and expressionless with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked exactly like he did at the pre-show meetings; only this time, he didn’t have a mask over his face. When he noticed you looking he glanced your way before looking back over where Rain was watching a gated-off duck pond. You noticed a blush spreading across his face and down his throat. You don’t even get a chance to ask him if he’s good before he starts talking. 

“They’re just…so small.” 

“Huh?” 

“The animals. They’re so little.”

“Do you…wanna go pet them?” 

He turns to fully face you, eyebrows pinched together “What if I hurt them?” 

You have to hold back a laugh. Oh if that wasn’t the sweetest. 

You gently nudge him “You won’t, come on what do you wanna see?” 

His eyes flick to the goat pen. You smile and start walking towards it, motioning with your head for him to follow. You’re honestly surprised when he does. 

When you two approach, a small brown and black goat looks at you both before bleating and walking closer. You gently pet along its back. It sniffs at Dew’s leg through the fence. 

“Look it likes you! Give it a little pat.” 

He reaches his hand out and the  goat butts its head into his palm.

“Okay maybe it’s trying to fight you?” 

Dew doesn’t hear you though. There’s a glint in his eye as he scratches at the back of the goat’s head. You could practically see his tail flicking through the air despite the glamour. 

That one eventually gets bored and walks off, but that doesn’t deter him. You watch him run around each corner of the pen attempting to pet every goat at least once. He only takes a break to go pester Copia for some of the feed he bought. 

While he’s gone, Rain comes to stand next to you.

“How long has he been at it?” 

“Since we got here.” 

You both laugh watching the massive grin on his face when the goats take the feed from his hand. 

“I don’t think you can let him into the gift shop. He might spend all his Ministry allowance.” 

“Already got that covered.” 

You look over and Rain pulls a small goat plushie from a brown paper bag. 

“Thought it might be a good idea after watching Swiss try to stop Phantom.” 

You smile and turn back to Dew who’s pointing at a white and black goat excitedly talking to Cumulus when she walks over. 

You were really glad the ghouls were having fun. You had good memories of this place and it made you happy to know you now shared some with your friends. Now you just had to pretend you didn’t hear Dew ask Swiss if he’d help him steal one.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Can i request something with old man scrooge and pregnant s/o? Lol people are surprised the old man still got it when they see visibly pregnant s/o at a Christmas party

A/n: YES! Oh good I love everything about this request.

Old man Scrooge can still get!

“This is idiotic.”

Turning to face the man, a small smile tugged at your lips. Prudence immediately at your side, her nose pressed into your ankle. “You know, for someone who got visited by three spirits I thought you would be a bit more humble.”

Rolling his eyes he stepped closer to you, his hands quickly placing themselves on your growing belly as a sigh escaped his lips. “It’s not that…I am grateful for what happened.” He rather not mention you being alone in the future he saw. “I am just….I rather not imagine what people, especially my nephew will say when everyone sees that you are pregnant.”

Snorting you cupped his cheeks. “I think you should be rather proud that you me pregnant, and all that stamina you have, though I think it’s more cute watching you lie back as I ride you.” He whispered in his ear nipping at his neck.

Ignoring the jolt of pleasure running down his spine he quickly hid his face in your neck holding you close, his fingers slowly rubbing down your back. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Ahh Ebenezer! You’re so cute with your face all red. You’re never this shy in the bedroom.”

Opening his mouth for a Monet, he narrowed his eyes seeing that not so innocent smile on your face, he knew that smile. “Let’s just go.”

“We will have fun when we get back through right?”

Grabbing your hand he tugged you towards the door intending on getting this party over with. “We’ll see.”

+•+

“Ahh Uncle you came.” Fred stepped close as he gave you both a smile. “It is good to see you too you and you are.”

“Pregnant.” You finished leaning into Ebenezer’s embrace. “We’re excited he’s going to be a wonderful father, though he has been a tad bit protective.” You muttered giving Scrooge a smile.

Tipping his head to you both, Fred let out a small chuckle look at you both. He could see how much in love his Uncle was with you and he knew just how happy his mother would be. “Congratulations to you both now and enjoy the party.”

Doing his best to relax, Scrooge wrapped his arm around your waist holding you protectively. “They’re whispering.”

Scoffing you turned to face him, texting your hand on his cheek. “Let them, I am here for you. Do you honestly think I care what they think Ebenezer. I am having your child, not theirs.”

“No butts, now let’s enjoy the party” smiling you tugged him in for a dance. You knew what he was thinking, that he was to old for you, that he didn’t deserve you but that was the furthest thing from the truth. You loved him and you knew that he loved you, that he will love this child.

Resting your head on his chest, he sighing running his fingers down your back. “I truly love you Y/n, you are the best thing to happen to me.” He whispered placing a kiss to your head.

Moving his hand to your belly you couldn’t help but beam as the baby kicked. “And we love you, our perfect little family…who cares what they think.”

Yes you were right, who cares. You and this child were the only thing that mattered to him, besides he already received Prudence approval which was the most important of all.