#cherry bullet stuff

[mizugucci]

im pretty sure spotify is spying on what i do on tumblr

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #1

CH1. Home Style | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Jim’s Midnight Grill wasn’t the magical place the name made it sound like.

In fact, it was worse at night. Hawkins' only diner sat on the outskirts of town, just before the road that took you out alongside the cornfields. In the height of a sunny day, the water tower cast a shadow over the old building and the gas station next door only had one working pump.

The leather booths were constantly sticky, the table tops grainy with spilled salt, but if you made your visit on a Thursday night after nine, milkshakes were two for one. The back alley was littered with cigarette butts, graffiti on the walls telling you who to call for a good time— and someone called King Steve used Farah Fawcett hairspray? The regulars were permanent fixtures on the bar stools, coffee stains on the counter in front of them, stolen sugar packets in their pockets, frowns on their faces.

The staff didn’t want to be there, the owner refused to replace the flickering lights and the cook had a bad attitude and liked to communicate with heavy sighs and eye rolls. But he made a mean grilled cheese. The walk in freezer was reserved for the pitiful weekly deliveries and breakdowns, a stolen kiss or two. Or three, or four. But no one liked to tackle the clogged sink and god forbid anyone change the TV channel— Mr Creel always had something to say about it.

—————

Honestly, Hawkins wasn’t your first choice when you decided to move to a smaller place. The idea of a big city was all fine and well until you lived a year in Chicago, the dream of a brownstone apartment quickly disappearing when you realised jobs were hard to come by and finding friends was even harder. Living alone wasn’t all that fun, especially when your landlord hinted at sexual favours to justify late payments and he didn’t care to fix the leaking radiator in your bedroom. The nights were never quiet and the city hardly slept, but instead of neon lights and late night bodega runs, you lay awake on the broken spring in your bed and flinched at the sound of backfiring cars and people arguing on the street below.

It was lonely, living somewhere so big and busy and always eating dinner by yourself. So you sold the old car you didn’t really use and cried enough that your landlord eventually gave in and ripped up your lease that still had four months to go. Packing your stuff was an easy enough job, hardly enough belongings to fill the duffel bag you’d dragged with you. You dug into the back of your freezer for the wad of cash your grandma gave you, threw it into the bag and grabbed your greyhound ticket and decided you’d get off the bus when the skyline turned a little more green. When the buildings shrunk, when the smog lifted and when wildflowers sprouted from between the cracks in the sidewalk.

So you rolled into Hawkins before the day broke, way before the sun crept up over the quarry, before the small town came alive. The apartment you’d found was the same tiny size as the one you’d had in Chicago but it was cleaner and the carpet was new. Nothing leaked. Nothing smelled weird. The parking lot was filled with cars and none of them had bullet holes in the side, your trash can wasn’t on fire and god, god, the first neighbour you saw - an elderly woman who was walking with a yorkie on a leash - smiled at you.

She smiled at you.

So despite the lack of twenty four hour stores and pizza parlours, Hawkins was already looking up. There wasn’t much on the Main Street, a library, a tiny bakery run by a couple who offered you a free croissant as a welcome to town gift. There was an outdoor pool with sun bleached bunting across its chain link fence, an arcade next to a video store, a high school that was derelict due to the summer months. The larger houses across from the park were lined with cherry trees, neat lawns with white mailboxes and flowers under the windows and suddenly Hawkins was a million miles away from Chicago and the buzz of traffic and car horns.

The librarian let you print out some resumes the day after you’d settled in, and you found your way around town by asking kind strangers, buying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in exchange for directions out of your neighbourhood. It was easy to stroll along the sidewalk with an iced latte and your headphones around your neck, blue skies above you and the sound of sprinklers in their yards, breathing in air that didn’t smell like diesel. You found a man by a rundown garage, white haired and tired looking, mechanic scrubs tied around his waist as he smoked a cigarette.

You took a deep breath, and then another one, smiling politely - warily - as you approached. The man lifted a brow at you, a little suspicious, but he held the burning stub away from you, smoke billowing in the opposite direction.

“You lost, kid?”

You were. Just a little.

“I’m looking for Jim’s, uh,” you glanced down at the pink flyer that had been pinned on the library's notice board. “Jim’s Midnight Grill? I got told it was out this way, but—”

You looked around, noting that there wasn’t much out this way. The busiest part of Hawkins was behind you, tidy sidewalks giving way to long roads out of town, a lone bus stop by the garage, a farm in the distance across the street. You squinted against the sun and shrugged.

“You wanna keep going for ‘nother mile or so, it’s just before the town sign,” the man pointed further out where the cornfields were overgrown and the sun faded billboard told everyone ‘thanks for visiting Hawkins!’ You weren’t sure the bus ran that far out. “Jim should be there, but if he’s not, jus’ ask for Eddie, he’ll sort you out.”

“Eddie,” you nodded, peering into the distance. You couldn’t see another building, but this man didn’t seem like he was lying. “Right, okay. Just keep to the road?”

The man nodded and he cracked a smile, small but soft. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and gestured to an old pick up that looked like it had seen better days. “You needin’ a ride?”

The urge to say yes was strong, especially after walking all the way from your apartment as the heat soared. It snuck up on you like a slow roll, going from pleasant to warm to too hot, far too quickly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin underneath your sundress but you shook your head, shyness crawling up the back of your neck. Accepting a ride from a stranger didn’t seem the wisest idea, no matter how kind he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

The man smiled again, a little bigger this time, crows feet crinkling, the sunlight catching the white of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s alright, kid. Jus’ tell ‘em Wayne sent you, yeah? Follow the road, you’ll see Forest Hills - the trailer park - keep going a lil’ ways and it’s right across the road.”

It turned out Wayne was right.

You kept walking, the heat soaring, the fields on either side of you growing taller but you bit back a smile at the sight of the wildflowers that snuck through the cracks in the concrete. Eventually they gave way to a trailer park, just as Wayne side, a quaint place that hummed with generators and had lines of laundry between each mobile home. Across the road sat a sandy lot, a diner in the middle, a neon sign letting passer-bys know they’d arrived at Jim’s Midnight Grill. Except the ‘r’ was loose, hanging from its wire and buzzing blue and purple.

Cats patrolled along the roadside, going from trailer doorsteps to the back alley of the diner, hoping and waiting for a free meal that they all knew would eventually come. You stopped to pet an orange kitten, a little scruffy looking thing but cute all the same, your CV clutched in one hand as you peered suspiciously at the front of the restaurant. It looked too quiet, like it wasn’t open yet. But there was a black van parked along the side of the building and some steam leaked from a vent on the roof, so you opened the front door.

The bell jingled but the patrons at the dining bar who sat on their stools didn’t move, didn’t turn to look. The place was nearly empty, some people nursing a coffee, some staring blankly at the buzzing television screen that was mounted in the corner. No one stood at the host desk, the menus stacked messily, the phone off the hook. In fact, there wasn’t a server to be seen as you made your way to the counter. You grimaced as you leaned on the surface, elbows sticky, avoiding spilled coffee the best you could. You waited, resume still in your hand, patience on your features.

No one came.

So you rang the bell that was on the bar top for the very purpose of gaining attention, but the man beside you glared at the noise. Still, no one came. The fans overhead squeaked and whirred, the TV fizzed with bad signal and from somewhere behind the open serving hatch, you heard the clatter of pots and pans. You tried to crane your neck to see through the window, steam and smoke billowing from it, the slight shadow of maybe a person moving through it.

The person swore, dropped a skillet and swore again.

You leaned in further, elbows on spilled salt grains and drops of ketchup, trying to gain a better view into the kitchen from the bar top. “Hey, ‘scuse me? Can I— can someone—”

You huffed as the figure moved out of sight, falling back onto the stool that squeaked and the man next to you snorted into his coffee cup. You frowned and took further action, sundress falling back around your thighs as you hopped off the chair and made your way to the side of the counter that lifted up. No one paid you any mind, no one at all, but you still hesitated before ducking under the bar and hovering by the hatch. You could smell garlic and sage and something a little sweet now you were closer, the scents of the kitchen winning over the stale coffee, cigarette smoke and engine oil that clung to the patrons clothes behind you.

You peered into the kitchen, your paperwork still clutched to your chest. It wasn’t much cooler in here than it was outside, the AC unit broken and the fans working overtime to combat the heat. The kitchen seemed empty now, a stovetop still on despite no one to supervise it, flames licking high up the sides of a steel pot, big enough for you to fit both feet in. There was something inside bubbling, foam rising to the top and chopped courgette and red onions sat on the workbench beside it, abandoned. A radio played, staticky and fuzzy, an old sixties tune floating out to mix with the smoke.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man. So big and so strong, come a little bit closer, I’m all alone.”

“H-hello?” You cleared your throat and braced yourself to speak a little louder. Stronger. Braver. “Hello?”

No one answered. In fact, it seemed like the entire diner was run by ghosts, no waiting staff, hosts or cooks to be seen. Maybe you’d imagined the silhouette in the smoke, maybe the heat was finally getting to you.

“No customers back here, what d’you think you’re doin’?”

You startled, jumping back a little only to knock an elbow into a half filled coffee pot, the brown liquid thankfully lukewarm but it still spilled across the countertop, soaking into stray packets of sugar and scattered napkins.

“Oh, fuck, uh—” you grabbed at whatever dry napkins were left, hurriedly mopping up the spill before it dripped to the floor. Old coffee dotted the red and cream tiles, into the gaps between your sandals. You grimaced and looked up, only half paying attention. “Shit, I’m really sorry, I just— there was no one there and—”

You stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks hot, eyes wide. The person in front of you was half hidden behind the serving hatch, but he was scowling through the window with a ladle in his hand. Big brown eyes, unnervingly expressive and dark hair to match, unruly looking curls that were pulled back with an elastic band in a bun that wouldn’t have passed a health inspection.

A boy, unfairly pretty, and annoyed looking with tattoos peeking out from his chef whites, a black paisley printed bandana knotted around his neck. There was a furrow between his brow, lines etched there so deep that it made you think they were a permanent fixture on his handsome face.

“—no customers behind the cash desk, sweetheart, you look bright enough to understand that.”

Your mouth fell open, a burn creeping across your cheeks. Annoyance settled in your chest but you realised you weren’t quite brave enough to do anything about it. So you lifted your resume and slapped it on the hot steel ledge that separated the kitchen from the coffee bar. “No one’s working,” you tried to explain, gesturing with one hand to the empty diner behind you. “I rang the bell—”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The boy scoffed, raising a tattooed forearm to wipe away the sheer layer of sweat from his brow. “Havin’ a spa day? Shit, no one rings the damn bell, don’t you know that?”

You scrambled for a response, the burn on your face growing hotter, an awful clawing feeling coming across your chest. You swallowed, your throat tight, but you pointed at your CV once more. “I’m here for the job opening. I need to speak to Jim? About the kitchen porter role?”

The stranger laughed, a breathy thing that you didn’t think was supposed to come across as mean as it did, but it stung all the same. You shrunk a little, a hardly seen thing as the boy turned his head to check on whatever was bubbling in the big pot. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a dick about it, but uh, I don’t think you’re cut out for the kitchen - sorry.” He turned back to you, a slightly more apologetic look on his face instead of the frown. “You understand, right?”

You were speechless, just for a second. Blinking away the confusion, you made noise of protest as the boy started to move away. Your hand touched his bicep and he swivelled back, scowling once more. You snatched your hand away, glancing at your fingertips as if the ink from his tattoos would have stained them black.

“Sorry— it’s just, I, I need a job.” You swallowed, hoping none of the customers could hear your desperate plea. “I just moved into town and honestly, I’ll take anything, like anything. I’m supposed to talk to Jim— or Eddie?”

The boy seemed to mull over your words for a second or two, a passing of sympathy or something just as kind coming over his features. He sighed and shrugged, turning away to stir the pot before it boiled over and he shouted at you through the smoke and steam. Not meanly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the music, the hissing of the stove, the hum of the freezer. “I dunno where Jim is, sorry.”

You deflated, sliding your stack of papers off of the ledge and back to your chest. You tried not to appear too frustrated as you asked, “what about Eddie? Someone - a guy, at the garage - he told me to ask for Eddie.”

The ladle clanged against the pot, some soup - or maybe stew - spilling out the sides. The boy frowned at the mess, dragging a rag over the spots before he glanced up at you. You tried to smile, tried to tamp down the watery doe eyes you knew you couldn’t help but have on show, but you felt desperate. Leaving Chicago with nothing more than the bag on your back and no plans was suddenly seeming like an awful idea.

“Sorry,” the stranger said again. “I dunno an Eddie.”

—————

Sitting in a sticky leather booth in the corner of Jim’s Midnight Grill for another hour turned out to be worth it.

Just before two o’clock, a man walked in, greeting the same customers who were still nursing their coffees with a muttered ‘hello,’ a familiar thing that everyone grunted back at. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with a moustache and a shaved head that was covered with a battered wide brimmed hat. He looked more cowboy than business owner, checked shirt dirt covered boots and all, but you heard someone call him Jim and you were up and running after him.

Your sneakers stuck to the linoleum tiles, the ‘shtick shtick shtick’ of your soles pattering between the aisles of empty tables until you caught up with the man just before he disappeared into the kitchen. He raised his brows at your sudden appearance at his elbow, wide eyed and hopeful as you clutched the same resume you’d tried to hand the cook, the pieces of paper stained with coffee now.

The man lifted his chin to a small table before you could speak, gesturing to two chairs by the window. You startled, wondering what was happening as he pulled out a seat and pointed at you to sit in the other one.

“You’re new, right?” The man - Jim - fumbled with a packet of cigarettes, most of them crushed and bent, but he found a good one to lift to his lips. He lit it and blew smoke upwards, staining the already yellowing ceiling. “Here, in town?”

You nodded, unsure how he knew that. You guessed that news travelled fast in a place as small as Hawkins, so you decided to elaborate for the sake of talking. “Uh, yeah. From Chicago. I’m inquiring about the, um, the porter job?”

“What’s your name?” Jim leaned forward in his chair and poked gently at your forearms. “You don’t got a lot of scars, you done soft jobs? No kitchen stuff before?”

The AC unit kicked in and rattled a vent above you as you stared at the man, trying to work out what he meant. Stammering, you told him your name and passed over a resume, pointing out your last few jobs, doing your best to try and make them sound more professional than they actually were.

Librarian's assistant.

Barista. For two weeks.

Cashier at a knock off Chuck E. Cheese.

“I guess they’re what you could call, uh,” you squinted Jim, floundering for the word he’d used, “soft jobs. But I’ve got a scar on my knee from pulling a kid out of the ball pit. He’d come straight from little league, he still had his spikes on and there was a considerable amount of blood even th—”

Jim stopped your spiel by jamming a thumb back towards the kitchen hatch. You could still see the boy there, pretty and scowling all the same, a dark curl falling from his hair band to fall over his cheek. You watched him blow it away and flip something in a skillet, the sizzle of it just heard over the music, the bad TV in the corner of the bar.

“You ever worked a kitchen?”

You shook your head, stomach sinking. ‘Fake it til’ you make it,’ failed you once before, and the owner of the coffee shop in Lincoln Park quickly realised you were wasting both your times when she discovered you didn’t know the difference between a mocha and a latte. “No, sir.”

“Our line cook is real particular ‘bout who we put in his kitchen with him,” Jim pointed to the boy, who’d now been joined by someone else. Another male, one with even longer hair, sleek and dark and they seemed to be arguing over blocks of cheese. “Now I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw you in there—”

Dread bubbled in your stomach. If you didn’t manage to land this job, you weren’t sure where else to look. A small town brought on few opportunities, and you’d already exhausted most of the businesses on Main Street. “Sir, please, I—”

“—but there is a waitressing gig available.” Jim frowned as he tried to remember the details. “Full time, forty odd hours if you don’t mind doing lates.”

“Yes!” You blurted out the answer too loud, loud enough for the customers to turn away from the TV screen for a second or two. The boys in the kitchen peered out the hatch, one curious, one annoyed. “Yes, sorry, yes. I’ll take it, thank you.”

Jim nodded and stubbed out the amber end of his cigarette in an ashtray beside the sauce bottles. “Easy enough job, minimum wage, you keep any tips you make.” He listed off each point on his fingers. “You start tomorrow.”

You could only nod back, eager and grateful. “Of course, yeah, sure. Uh— do I need—?”

Jim waved you off, already standing as he lit up another cigarette. “Just come by for eight, Eddie’ll sort you out with a uniform, locker, that kinda stuff.”

You frowned, confused. Looking around the quiet diner, you wondered if there was someone you hadn’t noticed before, but the number of visible staff members remained the same. The two boys in the kitchen, the pretty cool who you’d spoken to back at the stove, tasting its contents with a teaspoon.

“Uh,” you coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. “I thought— I thought there wasn’t an Eddie who worked here?” You pointed warily to the boy with the messy curls, the black tattoos across his exposed forearms, he was staring at you, like he knew you were talking about him. He was scowling. “He said there wasn’t.”

The noise and heat of the diner and the summer outside didn’t do anything to diminish the embarrassment you felt at Jim’s next words. His gaze followed to where you were pointing and snorted. “Kid, that is Eddie.”

[outoftheseine]

- SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY FIC RECS -

a lot of dad!simon fics here. i am not sorry. i want to bear this man's child(ren) | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

haunted | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (heavy angst, tw: depression, drugs, addiction suicide, toxic relationship, please read the warnings!)

too old for you | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x medic!fem!reader

↳ by @lunarw0rks (smut, hurt/comfort, age-gap)

soft spot • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @cordeliawhohung

the red means, i love you • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader x john 'soap' mactavish

↳ by @thewriterg

smashing pumpkins • simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!fem!reader

↳ by @qwimchii

last kiss | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (angst, unestablished relationship, smut, fluff)

secret lovers | part 2 • husband!simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

↳ by @savemefromanepicoftimewasted

my baby swingin' • biker!simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @tojisun (very sexy biker!simon, smut, fluff)

happiness • simon 'ghost' riley x wife!fem!reader

↳ by @lethalchiralium (i feel so fuzzy when i read this series, fluff, sometimes angst, some tw be aware)

i'm with you | keep you close • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @undercoverpena (angst, feelings, explicit)

being yelled at by ghost | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @hxltic (angst! simon is an asshole)

northern attitude | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst)

lights on • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @peachesofteal (single mom!reader, fluff, slight angst, protective!simon)

one night stand | part 2 | part 3 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @cmncisspnandmore

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

break in, break down • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @hyperactively-me (home invasion, comfort, fluff)

his girls • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

one fucking mistake • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @codfanficedits (very angsty, hurt but no comfort for a whilez grieving, tw:depression)

book boyfriend • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @stargirlrchive (fluff)

lime-sized • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (pregnant!reader, very fluffy)

bloodied bullets, soft confessions • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @ghosts-cyphera (a little mean!simon, hurt/comfort, injuries, fluffy end)

monster • neighbor!simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @rowarn (smut, protective!simon, zombie au)

unmasked love • simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @springtyme (so so so cute! dad!simon)

adoration • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (dad!simon, fluff)

simon 'ghost' riley x sensitive!gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff and nswf content)

this chapter is over • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @colonelarr0w (character death, angst, injuries, some fluff)

simon says • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (smut)

salt in an old wound • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!oc!reader

↳ by @ghouljams (hurt/comfort, explicit content, fae au)

blood on my shirt, rose in my hand • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @alwaysshallow (friends to lovers, the continuation is on ao3!)

antique soldiers • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @mangowafflesss

why? • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, slightly explicit at the end)

cold but warm • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

pretty pink flowers and bloody cherry blossom tree • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @underscorewriting (really really angsty, ugly cried)

for the last time • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @wttcsms (pregnant!reader, mentions of death, angst but fluff)

welcome home • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @nastybuckybarnes (home invasion, arguing, fluff)

medical leave • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kib-ble (mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff)

no more stars left to count • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @lvlyghost (angst, hurt/comfort)

protective • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @ponyosmom35 (medic!reader, protective!simon, tw: sexual harassement)

return • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @bruhrobs (fluff, colleagues to lovers, single mom!reader)

[and-the-stars-collided]

House of Feänor as Aesthetics:

Fëanor  —  loud voice, commanding presence, analytical, natural leader, piercing eyes, foggy hillsides, black boots, tipping their head back to breathe the air, mirrored lakes and everything below the surface, tearing leaves from trees, blunt sarcasm, long dark hair, deep sleeper, rotting tree stumps, black leather jacket, songs that makes you want to create a storm, rebellious, ambition, unstoppable passion, fast trains, polaroids, empty castles.

Maedhros — walking silently, stronger due to all the stuff meant to kill them, ignoring their mental health issues, fiery red hair, crumbling marble, oversized hoodies, raw voice, lingering touches, faint music in the distance, calming down from a panic attack, long heavy cloaks, cold hands, disillusioned with the world, insomnia, unhealthy habits, sighs made visible by cold night air, strong hugs, never sleeps, loud music, freckles, dark under-eyes.

Maglor — hypnotising smiles, a broken mind, melancholy, driving through mountains and the woods, iced coffee, the faint feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, ripped jeans, tight hugs, whispered compliments, deep conversations, late night texts, nimble hands, thin blades, white lilies, vertigo, unkept journals, lightning and thunder, rhythms so raw the heartbreak is showing, shattered glass, walking alone on a cold night, silver necklaces, regret.

Celegorm — bright eyes, climbing rock formations, cold-hearted, hard breathing after running, wood cabins, gladiator arenas, wicked smiles, twisted branches, wild hair, growing more and more dangerous, night drives, adrenaline rushes, bruises, bloody cloaks, running from society, breathless laughing, that animalistic unpredictability, silver and leather bracelets, strong coffee after a sleepless night, city lights from a high rise, addiction, barking dogs, hurricanes.

Caranthir — ironic smirks, bitten nails painted black, lightning in summer, empty threats, sunglasses hiding dead eyes, thick chain jewellery, temperamental, goes to car races just to watch the crashes, deep glares, tongue/lip piercings, midnight walks, lightbulbs burning out, diamonds, crushed ice, a glint of cat eyes in the dark, gold coins in storm drains, cold hands, storm clouds rolling in, theatres, suppressed emotions, wrought iron gates, motorcycles. 

Curufin — cherries and Diet Coke, white marble, a studio apartment on the 67th floor, tattoos, neon lights, sweetened coffee, smudged makeup, too-loud music, cursive notes written in red ink, veiny forearms, sharp canines, fresh snowfall, high rise buildings, white light, sheer robes with nothing underneath, fog, stained glass windows, colourful hair, slow heartbeats, long-forgotten love, cold mountaintops, eternal silence.

Amrod — burnished copper, feverish eyes, hues of orange and gold, stars and spades, brewing tea, freckles, hardwood floors, poisonous flowers, listens to Hozier, messy hair, fake circle glasses, bullet point notes on a restaurant napkin, comfortable silence, broken wings on insects, old hungers, the whispering of trees, kicking stones on deserted paths, forgotten places, origami stars, old overgrown stone castles, morning mist, horse riding.

Amras  —  misplaced keys, wandering aimlessly, selectively mute, deep lakes hiding secrets, pine trees, restless nights, misunderstood, reliving the same day over and over again, graphic tees, dead moths, visual mind, muffled screams into a pillow, listens to asmr, doc martens, profanity, burned cigarettes, zoning out often, heart fluttering nervously, confusing satellites for stars, comic filled bookshelves, radios, old jeeps, glowing keyboards.

Celebrimbor — ravens, white-hot metal, the darkest shade of black, glittering skin, low waist pants, stars falling, the heat lingering in the evening, petals falling off dead flowers, trusting the wrong people, blue veins, cobblestone paths, linoleum tiles, bruises/scars easily, the heat lingering in the evening, cities awake late, card games, overanalysing everything, shiny fabrics, the slamming of a shot glass, the sting of betrayal.

[floofeh-purpi]

Through the Screen.

Self-aware! Obey Me x Gn! Insomniac! Reader

OMG IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I LAST WROTE SMTH WHATRR?!!! And its first time writing for a fandom that's not Genshin under the sagau tag-

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@rotin0 @cherry-blossom-sword80 @leniisreallycool @mc-cos-charm @imtotallynotthere @cosmo112 @cheeseburgercasserole @kanashi-aivy

Credits to cafekitsune for the dividers! (I needed these omfg)

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, reader has a nightmare, cursing, ooc because... hm...., I don't know either, written in bullet form, I don't know this is so messy 🙏

• Alright, so where the fuck should I begin with this???

• You maybe fell for them, but they fell even harder— so much harder than their bones are brok— oh wait you mean THAT kind of falling??

• Anyways

• After you FINALLY saved enough money to buy a new phone you stepped on it when you were half asleep

• Ouch.

• You still had to bandage your foot because of the wounds it inflicted on your foot.

• And one time you were resting your foot; you found a certain Otome game...

• Duh bitch of course it was Obey Me! as if it wasn't obvious enough by the title

• You decided to download obey me because:

1. Your best friend forced you to.

2. You were bored.

3. You wanted to cure yourself from boredom after you wake up at 3 in the morning—

• Even though you had to delete a 'few' apps and things from your gallery...

• You think it was worth it! :D

• Because goddamn these guys in the cards look so ngh— excluding luke for obvious reasons.

• You look at them, yes.

• But bitch you dont know that THEY look at you too!

• At first, when they found out they were stuck in a game, they took a while in accepting things, that the human exchange student is- well, some sort of... coded sheep acting all plastic looking thing...?

• Like, what or who made them? Why? And when??? Why did they make them suffer like this??? Why make Lilith die and make Beel drown away in his guilt for god knows how long? and most importantly, what or who is playing??

• Well, until they've gotten access to your phone's camera— you can literally see their pupils form into hearts when stare into their eyes for so long! Except for Luke, they only sparkle more

• The sheep (aka the you in-game) was just... eugh.

• You know those occasional surprise guest sessions after those dance battles???

• Basically, the maximum amount of gifts you can get from surprise guests in a day is 6, and that you have to achieve a perfect sequence and stuff (Basically on all three actions that you do to them)

• ...Bro, they broke out of the coding that makes them give only 6 gifts to you a day and all of a sudden—

• HOLY SHIT??? 10K GRIMM IN ONE GIFT FROM BARBATOS???WHAT–?!

• You know they'll give you only 1k Grimm (it depends if they'll give you Grimm or the gift or nah)

• So— Bitch I'm not finished yet!

• Bro not only that, you also noticed that, as you were playing the game and progressed through the lessons smoothly.

• You could've sworn that the dance battles before were more difficult than now,

• Like bitch, who the fuck was responsible for buffing these mfs up?? 😭🙏

• You thought that Satan hated it when you touched him

• So why the fuck were you getting heart reactions from him when you accidentally tapped his head once when your phone fell on your head?!

• And the voicelines...

• Holy shit the voicelines...

• if you EVER have Asmo as the person— or demon in this case— that'll show up on your D.D.D screen, and if you're playing somewhere around 12am-3am...

• ...😰🙏

• Man's practically gonna lecture you about how lack of sleep can damage your skin

• AND YOU CANT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT

"What the hell are you doing at 12am?! Aren't humans supposed to sleep at this time?!"

• The demon exclaimed with wide eyes and a pout on his lips. Im imagining it and its so funny lmfao.

"WHAT THE FU—"

• ...Yeah you didn't play for a few days after that.

• Did Asmo scare you too much??

• My hands smell like soy sauce what the fuck.

• That's not the only reason, but school was being bitch and decided to throw exams, assignments, projects, and more to your sleepless self! :D

• Also because you desperately needed to fix up your sleep schedule and you needed to buy sleeping pills for your deprived ass, but they didn't need to know about that now, do they????

• And since you read a lot— no, actually... too many fanfics for game characters being self-aware...

• You suspected that they're now apparently... self-aware!

• You know how you always have to play obey me in landscape on your phone??

• Cuz' what I'm trying to say here is that they can basically see your pretty face through your camera, but only occasionally.

• Yk why??

• Cuz you usually keep on covering the damn camera on your phone :( aka the front camera on the top on your phone whenever you're in story mode, dance battles, devilgram posts or whatever you called it, and pretty much the entire time you play Obey Me.

• But they don't have the heart to say it out loud to you! :<

• But hearing your laughs whenever your eyes bear witness to the brother's banter or your hymns of praises directed towards them whenever you win another dance battle is enough for them to be content with the time they spend with you.

• But it doesn't mean that they don't want more.

• How could they NOT want more?

• They want every. single. ounce. of your. attention.

• But yet...

• Your so close to them. Yet so far away.

• You tossed and turned in your sleep, cold sweat dripping off your forehead as your nightmare got the hold of yourself.

• Tears welled up in your closed eyes as you subconsiously muttered out incomprehensible gibberish in your sleep.

SON OF A BITCH?!

• You exclaimed as you immediately sat up in bed and shaked the thick covers of your blanket as if you would pass out from a heatstroke if it covered your seemingly traumatized form any second longer.

• You went out of your room to get some water to calm your tears down a little.

• After staying in the dining room for maybe... the past 30 minutes or so, you finally went back to your safe haven; your room of course!

• You lay down in bed; exhausted yet not tired enough to lull yourself back to sleep.

• And so, with dark circles and dried tears on your face, you decided to open your phone and play the only game you have in your full-storaged device; Obey Me! :D

• You waited for the game to finish loading with half-lidded eyes. Damn the wifi for being shitty this... midnight?

UGH FINALLY...

• You exclaimed loudly in your bed.

• 2:04am. The D.D.D showed you. Wait how long were you awake again???

• Idk if you have Mammon as the demon that pops up in your D.D.D, but here you go-

• Did I make him ooc? 😰

Oi, human! I heard ya cryin' earlier. Ya ok?!

• THERES NO YELLOW FOR THE TEXT COLOR WHAY?!

• The white-haired demon exclaimed with a frown. Oh shit, that's one way to assure yourself that they're self-aware. But you didn't they can hear you too, so what—

The fuck? I didn't know they can hear me too... 😭🙏

• You murmured out. Yep. Mammon heard that.

Oh shit! Does this mean that they heard me scream at a cockroach while I was playing before?! 😰

• ...He heard that too.

What? -Mammon

OMFG IM DONE GUYS! IM DONE! Sorry it took me forever though 😭🙏

Published: September 20 2024. 3:12pm.

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

How do you imagine the adult!Damian's life?

First of all no evil pipeline and second no batman pipeline

I've seen some posts about him retiring himself and becoming a veterinarian but let's be real here, this boy can't stay still, he would enjoy the peace of civil life in the start but he will get bored soon and all his siblings and friends know it

Then I offer you: reluctant hero Damian 'I-said-I-want-peace-and-no-hero-stuff-but-I-see-some-bandits-and-I-need-to-protect-the-others' Wayne

The stories can help him help with the investigation, do a "hacker job" for some friends or siblings, fix some machine, literally punching villains and criminals in their face, being the family healer (he is a sorcerer guys), being the neighborhood cryptid, go some night as random vigilant because 'my brothers and father are so stupid for the fuckin' sake! I still need to do this shit' to save the city and/or his family

Also

Damian, in call with Tim: Explain to me again, why should I do it?

Tim: because I and Bernard are in our sabbat year and we all know how dad is when he is focused and your grades are perfect, Damian, no one would bother if you skip some class to help in this case

Damian: >tt< it's better you give me a nice souvenir when you come back, Timothy

_______

Damian: Jason... Why are you in my kitchen?

Jason: There's a bullet in my leg and I need you to take it out

Damian: ... You have luck that Alfred the cat like you

Jason: Are you not fixing this with magic?

Damian: How did you get shot?

Jason: ...me and my friends are drunk

Damian: you don't deserve magic

_____

Jon: Dami, please please please please please

Damian: I'm not a hero Jon, how do you expect me to invade the Luthor computer to help you? Do you want me to commit a crime?

Jon: please Damian! It's really important this time, I swear!

Damian: >tt< I'm in

Jon: you're the best Dami!

____

Damian gets an internship at the zoo and a group of criminals decide to steal the animals for genetic experiments

Damian: ... not in my watch

Damian, defeat the criminals and save everyone: you're late, it's yours and the girls' day shift

Duke: honestly? we came slowly because we knew you were here

___

Damian: today I just want to garden and read my shoujos

*literally aliens*

And the shit goes, sometimes he needs to be Batman because Bruce is old and needs help in some cases, and obviously the class "I'm not Batman!" basically adopt some random stray kid as young sibling now and carry them around everywhere

And also he will call his siblings for their first names in the future because they get Damian's trust but the most important family members still are: Alfred, Dick and Steph

And as a cherry on top: "you know what? I'm leaving! I can't have a shit in Gotham! I'm moving to Blüdhaven!"

Dick Grayson slowly picks up the box with a flamebird costume that "conveniently" fits on Damian perfectly

I say this because this boy has been disappointed by so many adults in his life and continues to be Robin, so the only conclusion is: he likes being a hero, not because of his father, but because of himself. That's why he wasn't just going to stop being a vigilant, he was going to continue being a hero even when he wanted peace

[eddiexmunsonlover-archive]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 7)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

Follow my new blog for future chapters & fics @eddiexmunsonlover

Series Masterlist

Series Spotify Playlist

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Chapter Summary: You spend some much needed one-on-one time with Max, and celebrate Halloween with the Party. WC: 5.8k Warnings: MDNI as always. Explicit language. Talks about death, grief, trauma, depression, guilt, all the fun stuff. Brief run in with Jason and his lackies. Total idiots in love, mutual pining fest in here. We're helping Max heal this chapter <3 Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, life has been lifing but I hope y'all enjoy it! I had fun writing this one. Taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers

Friday, October 25th, 1985

The cool October night breeze caresses your skin as you step out the doors of Hawkins High, the excited chatter of the club members following behind you. When you hear quick steps approaching behind you, you turn to see Eddie fall in step next to you.

“So remind me again why you’re bailing on me for our only just recently reinstated Friday movie nights?” he questions, feigning offense. You scoff out a small laugh as you dig for your keys in your bag, approaching your truck parked next to his van.

“Because I already told you, I’m taking Max out to the drive-in.”

“Oh yeah, what movie are you gonna see?”

“They’re playing Silver Bullet tonight.”

“Oh man. Yeah, I’ve heard about that one. Looks really good, I’ve been really wanting to see it.” He leans against his van, putting on the dramatics and fake disappointment that you see right through, unable to stop the big smile from creeping onto your face as you watch his little show. 

“Oh is that so?” you tease, popping out your hip as you cross your arms, amusement written across your face.

“Come on. What, you think I’m gonna dampen your girl party?” 

You roll your eyes.

“Under any other circumstances, I’d insist you join along. But Max… she’s already been isolating herself enough as it is, anyone else being there would just close her walls right back up, you know? And I’m trying to bring those walls down so…” 

“Yeah, I get it. I’m only teasing. I hope you guys have a good time. Tell me if the movie's any good, yeah?” He offers you a soft smile, a smile you return that quickly turns into a smirk as you watch the younger boys approaching.

“Uh huh, you too” you respond, gesturing with your eyebrows as you unlock the door to your truck.

Eddie’s eyes follow yours behind him, shoulder’s quickly slumping at the sight and question he already knows is coming.

“Hey uh, you mind giving us a ride home?” you overhear Dustin ask as you start your engine, quickly leaving Eddie to fulfill the drop offs you’ve done countless times since the beginning of the semester.

You turn the knob on your radio through the channels of static till the sound of the opening credits come through your speakers. With a bag of popcorn and slushies set between you, you and Max settle against your clothed truck seats, focusing on the huge screen set out 100 feet away in the big field now filled to the brim with cars full of other teenagers seeking a scary late night flick. 

You let yourselves get pulled into the film, mindlessly funneling popcorn into your mouths between sips of cherry Icees. You find yourself wondering how to spark a deeper conversation with Max. As much as you don’t want to force her to open up, with each week that passes you’ve only grown more worried and concerned for her.

You’ve spent some brief time together since you moved back, giving her a ride here and there given her mom is always working, but this is the first extended time you’ve been able to spend together. As you’re lost in thought, the sound of her throat clearing from the seat next to you grabs your attention.

“Hey, I-uh, just want to say thanks. For bringing me. This is the first time I’ve gone out and done anything in a while, so…” She mutters almost shyly, hesitantly. You offer her a genuine smile that relaxes the tension in her body.

“Anytime, I’m glad you could join me. I’ve missed this, you know, our girl time.” You offer, pulling a smirk and eye roll from her. As your eyes move back to the movie, hers drift to examine your Hellfire shirt.

“Since when are you in Hellfire?” she asks curiously.

“Oh, well since last Friday. Once me and Eddie made up I decided to join.” You answer, shrugging nonchalantly as you look down and admire your new Hellfire shirt Eddie rushed to get made for you.

“Made up?” She prods with an eyebrow cocked.

“It’s a long story.” You answer dismissively as you shake your head, assuming she wouldn’t be interested.

“Oh, so you got to hear all the gossip about my relationship back in the summer but I don’t get to hear about yours?”

Your eyes widen as you look at her with a smirk, caught off-guard by the witty remark you always knew her for but haven’t seen much of in the last few weeks. 

“Eddie and I aren’t in a relationship. We’re just friends, Max.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious!”

“Well, I still wanna know the juicy details of the ‘making up’ you two did.” She insists, crossing her arms across her chest as she settles further into the passenger seat of your truck. 

You scoff out a mix between a laugh and a groan before letting your eyes survey her again.

“There’s no ‘juicy’ details, not that I’d tell you if there was anyway.” You emphasize before continuing, “We just have always been best friends, ever since I first moved to Hawkins. We got close pretty quickly. But then I moved back to Virginia and…”

“And?”

“I um, I stopped talking to him. Stopped returning his calls.” You answer with a sigh, meeting her blue eyes as they begin to reflect a knowing feeling.

“Why?”

“It was just too painful to deal with, to hear his voice, to be reminded of the loss that came with the move. It’s like, being so overcome with that pain that you just avoid everyone, let alone that person that it’s attached to. Sometimes it just feels easier to be alone in your pain.” You end with a shrug despite knowing how true some of that may ring for her too.

She pulls her eyes from you to the sweating cup of slushie in her hands as she nods briefly.

“Yeah, I get that.” Is all she offers in the moment. You let a few seconds pass by before you continue.

“I mean I ended up regretting it but, it was just too easy to get stuck in the pain and then the anxiety, you know. I never spoke to him again till I just moved back. We had some brief hurdles to overcome but, we talked things out and we’ve been able to start our friendship again.”

She nods again, briefly lifting her eyes to meet yours again with a forced smile before turning her gaze to the movie.

“I’m glad you guys worked things out.”

“Yeah, me too.” you mutter softly as you turn your own gaze back to the movie.

Part of you is hoping this is a small step in the right direction. Hoping that Max takes the fact that you can somewhat understand how she’s feeling, what she’s going through as a sign you’re a safe space for her. Someone she can open up to and who will actually understand. 

Opening up about your own experience with Eddie, and your struggle with depression and isolation is your first step, initiating the bigger conversation with Max in a way. So you leave it at that, leaving it to her to decide what she wants to do with it as you attempt to get yourself back into the film you can tell you’ve already lost key information in due to your conversation.

The drive back to Forest Hills is silent besides the sound of the breeze blowing through the cracked windows and your joined hums along to the Kate Bush Hounds of Love cassette playing through the speakers. You pull into your driveway close to 11pm, turning to Max with an almost shy smile as you shift into park. 

“Did you have a good time?” You ask with a hint of nervousness as you search her face and body language. She leans forward in the seat, nodding her head gently.

“Yeah, thanks again.” She reassures you. You remove your keys from the ignition, but stop yourself from opening your door and getting out when you notice her hand hesitating on the door handle.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, voice soft. Her body leans back slightly, but her eyes still refuse to lift from the floor of your truck to your eyes.

“What you told me earlier about you and Eddie. I just- I know how you felt.”

“I know, sweetie.” You reply with a sigh, leaning back into your own seat. When her eyes look up to meet yours, you elaborate. “That’s why I told you. So you’d know I understand. I won’t lie and say I completely know everything you’re probably going through, but I do know some of it and... I just hope you know I’m always here, no judgment.”

She takes your words in and lets them settle, staring down at her fidgeting hands as she musters together the courage to let you in, like she had so easily before all summer. But this is different.

“I just… I feel so guilty. I can’t escape that night, that image of Billy, even in my dreams. He-He sacrificed himself for me and I just…watched.” You listen to her intently, giving her the space to say all she wants before you speak up.

“I understand why you feel that way. I still get flashbacks and nightmares of that night sometimes too.”

“You do?” 

“Of course. Living through something like that, it’s gonna stick with us. And that guilt part? That’s normal too, there's even a name for it. Survivor’s guilt. You blame yourself for what happened, maybe you even wish it happened to you instead. But you are not to blame, Max. None of that was your fault.”

“Still, I just stood there and watched, I was frozen. Maybe I could have done something, maybe I could have helped.” She stutters out, pain and frustration sketched across her face. Your heart breaks at the sight, at seeing her carry all the responsibility for what happened on her shoulders, weighing her down for months.

“I hear you. I know it’s frustrating, eating you up. You’re mad at yourself, wishing you could change what happened. Have you ever heard of fight or flight?” When she nods, you keep going. “Well, that’s not all there is to it. Freezing is also a very normal reaction to something traumatic. You didn’t have a choice, your nervous system decided for you.”

She looks at you, wiping a tear as it falls from her eyes.

“Really? You're not just making that up to make me feel better, right?”

You shake your head in reassurance, both taking a deep breath against heavy chests with the weight of the pain.

“I was there with you too, Max. It all happened so fast, even if we hadn’t frozen… there’s nothing we could have done.” 

Flashbacks hit you as you speak, seeing Billy get trapped under falling pillars and rubble from the mall fire, and his instant death from the crushing weight. Rubble that would’ve fallen on Max. 

She reluctantly shakes her head in agreement as you finish, the same memories flashing through her mind, knowing you’re right. Beginning to let herself believe it. Letting you chip away at the weight she’s been carrying, letting herself feel the small relief that comes with it.

“I know you’re right. It’s been hard to try to convince myself of it but… hearing it from you too. It helps. That’s not all of it though… I think about how much I hated him, all the thoughts I had about him. I’d lay in bed at night and wish something bad would happen to him.” She whispers, shame bleeding through her words.

“Max” you breathe out in empathy at her confession, reaching out to grab and squeeze her hand, pulling her attention back to you. “Wanting someone who did nothing but torment you out of your life does not make you a bad person, and it doesn’t make you responsible for what happened to him, either. Billy was not a good person, but everyday I am so grateful he had enough good left in him to save you. Because you are good and you deserve to forgive yourself, hun.”

You pour your heart into every word, staring intently into her blue eyes as tears now freely stream from them and fill your own waterline. You see her breath stuttering in her chest before she throws her arms around you, both quickly closing the space between as you embrace each other.

“You are so loved, Max Mayfield. Don’t you ever forget that.” You mutter out the words you know she needs to hear. You know the dark place the guilt, shame, and trauma have taken her too well. You hold her for a minute until you feel her arms begin to slip from you. As she comes back into your vision, an idea hits you.

“I know something else that might help. Why don’t you write him a letter?” She looks at you in slight confusion, so you push further. “I’m serious! Write him a letter with everything you want to say to him, what you’ve been holding in. Go to his grave and read it out loud like you're actually saying it to him, let it all out. And then, burn it, bury it, I don’t care. As long as you get rid of it in some way. Say what you want to say to him, and then let it go.”

She considers your words for a moment before she nods.

“Yeah, that actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“I’ll even take you, I’ll stay in the truck the whole time too. You just let me know, okay?” You offer, voice soaked in sincerity.

She’s quiet sitting there, lost in thought as she fidgets with her zipper. After a moment, you hear her voice quietly croak out.

“I wish you were my sister.”

It’s a whisper, a nervous confession you could’ve easily missed had all of your attention not already been on her. You greet her with a smile as she chances a look from her hands to your face, wiping the fallen tears on her cheeks with her jacket sleeves.

“We may not be blood, but I’ll be your older sister for as long as you’ll have me.”

When she returns your small smile, you raise your hand in front of you, pinky finger extended. A short giggle at the lighthearted childishness of it escapes her mouth before she wraps her pinky around yours. 

Soft smiles, dried tear stains, and a promise to always be there for her.

Thursday, October 31st, 1985

Halloween Night

You examine yourself in your vanity mirror, fluffing your hair you spent nearly an hour on to make sure it’s perfect. Purple eyeshadow matching your purple dress, sharp winged eyeliner. You smile at yourself, hands following the way your dress accentuates your wide hips before flowing out around your thick thighs. Looking down at your high heels, you wish you’d picked a different character to dress up as, already foreseeing the pain your feet would be in at the end of the night.

With a sigh, one final look over in the mirror, and the clock nearing the time of the scheduled meet-up with your friends, you turn off your lights and close your bedroom door.

“Don’t you look cute!” your mother exclaims as you enter the living room, hands covering her cheeks as she gushes over you. You bashfully roll your eyes but share a big smile with her.

“You like it? It looks good?” You ask with your arms spread out, giving a little twirl.

“You look beautiful, honey. I wish you’d dress like this more often!” You stop yourself from giving a less than bashful eye roll this time, but can’t deny that you feel and look good in this dress. 

“Don’t stay out too late, it’s still a school night!” She gives you a kiss on the cheek as you part, you give her the reassurance you’ll be back before 11 as you head out the front door. 

The sound of your heels clapping against the cement fills the silence of the neighborhood as you begin crossing the road toward Eddie’s trailer. Your head shoots up when you hear a low whistle, eyes landing on Eddie as he sits on his porch steps with a smug grin on his face.

“My, my, my. Look at you.” he mutters, observing you as you approach. The darkness of the night casting a shadow over him to hide the way his eyes rake over your exposed thighs, dress swishing against them with each step. He hasn’t seen you in a dress since you were kids and your mom had more control over your outfit choices. Seeing you now, he thinks it’s one thing he might take your mom’s side on, you need to add more dresses to your wardrobe.

“Yeah, yeah. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“You know what, I think that’s a fantastic idea. Bring a camera?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, slapping him on the shoulder as you stand beside him.

“What?! You look nice. I can’t tell my best friend she looks nice?”

“Whatever you say, Munson. Besides, you know your pants are supposed to be khaki right? Or atleast brown!” You tease as you pull at a loose string around the knee of his ripped black jeans.

“Hey, at least I got the shirt right.” He retorts as he points at his green shirt, literally the only item of clothing he's sporting to mimic his character. 

Both your heads turn at the sound of feet approaching. You smile at the sight of your red-headed younger friend. Ever since that night at the drive-in, that Sunday when you gave her a ride to Billy’s grave, she’s slowly started coming back around the party again, beginning to let everyone back in and you couldn’t be happier. You wrap your arms around her for a quick hug as she joins you and Eddie.

“I’m so happy you came!” you beam, pulling a laugh from her as you move your bodies side to side in the embrace.

“You look good.” She remarks with a quirked eyebrow as you part.

“Thanks, Red.” 

Eddie stands up from the porch steps during your greeting.

“Nice to officially meet you, Mad Max. Who are you supposed to be anyway?” He asks, both of you examining her outfit.

“Dr. Sarah Bowman from Day of the Dead. Already had everything I needed for it in my closet.” She answers with a shrug, gaining a nod of approval from both of you.

“Well, we ready to get this party started?” He asks, dangling the keys to his van from his fingers. 

With that, the three of you load into Eddie’s van and head to pick up the boys before going to the final meeting place of Steve’s house. Steve ensuring all of you his neighborhood is the best trick or treating spot in town. Full of well-off families who give out full-sized candy bars.

When you pull up to the end of Mike’s driveway to pick up the three boys, your eyes widen and mouth drops open in disbelief at the sight of Dustin. While Mike dressed up as the Hulk, Lucas as Indiana Jones, you can't believe your eyes when you see Dustin clad with dog ears, a tail, and collar.

“No fucking way.” you laugh out in disbelief.

“What? You can’t have the gang without Scooby!”

You and Eddie try to bite back your chuckles, shaking your heads at the sight.

“Oh, I can’t wait till Steve sees this.”

“Just get in the van.” Eddie finally gets out between bits of laughter, cheeks turning red.

“See? We’ve even got the Mystery Machine van too, only thing missing was me.”

When Eddie and you share a glance, it only sends you into another bout of laughter as he shifts into drive, rolling out of the neighborhood toward Steve’s.

When Steve’s door opens to reveal him in full Fred get-up, with Robin next to him as Velma you smile brightly, the costumes suiting them both so well.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me” Steve exhales at the sight of Dustin who only greets him with his ‘pearly whites’.

“I had nothing to do with this” you claim defensively, hands up as you approach Steve and Robin, the latter’s face adorned with a shit-eating grin. When Steve sees it, the hands go on the hips.

“Rob- Seriously?”

“What? What are we just gonna have Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma and no Scooby?”

“That’s what I said!” Dustin interjects in agreement.

“I can’t believe this” he mutters.

“I have to admit, you showed some great ingenuity with the costume, though.” Eddie adds amid Steve’s groans. When his eyebrows shoot up in response, looking at Eddie in disbelief, he retorts. “What? The kid’s creative, what can I say?”

“Thank you” Dustin finishes with a smug smile.

“We all look great, okay? Now, we gonna take these rich folks for all they’ve got or what?” You press, pushing everyone to begin the trek down the streets of Steve’s neighborhood, younger kids taking the lead.

Only a few houses in, the streets are littered with kids and teens in costumes. You talk amongst yourselves, commenting on your favorites and the craftiness of a few of the ones you see.

You’re filled with warmth watching the younger teens walking ahead, watching Max let herself come back out of her shell. You don’t miss the shy glances shared between her and Lucas either, smiling at the sight. While Eddie and Robin are deep in conversation about band, Steve falls in step next to you, sharing your gaze ahead.

“That’s cute” he remarks watching the two. “How did you manage that?”

“I don’t know, just told her what she needed to hear I guess.”

He peeks a glance toward Robin and Eddie before leaning closer to you.

“So, when are you and Eddie finally gonna get your head out of your asses and get together?”

You stagger in your step, taken aback as you look at him like he just spawned a second head.

“What?” Is all you can scoff out.

“Oh come on.” he remarks, hands in his pockets as he saunters down the sidewalk before he leans closer once again, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the warmth filling your cheeks and smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

“Is it that obvious?” you whisper worriedly.

You two stop at the end of a walkway to a house as the rest of the group goes to the front door.

“Well to me and Robin, yeah. But obviously not to him.” 

You watch as they begin their walk back towards you, admiring the smile on Eddie’s face while amongst conversation with the kids. 

“He doesn’t see me like that. I’m just his best friend.” You decide with a sigh, slightly shaking your head before looking back up to Steve who’s observing you with a sympathetic smile.

“Are you kidding? He’d be crazy not to, you’re a total catch.” he says, playfully bumping your hip with his. 

“Thanks, Stevie.”

Eddie’s smile falters slightly as they approach, catching sight of you and Steve standing there staring and smiling at each other. Being dressed as Fred and Daphne, a couple, doesn’t help either. He doesn’t believe you’d have any reason to lie to him that you don’t like Steve as more than a friend, but as he eyes the way Steve smiles at you, the ping of jealousy in his chest tells him he’s not too sure Steve’s on the same page. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, maybe it’s the way Steve’s playful with you like he is, and Eddie knows the deeper feelings that underlie his own teasing nature with you.

When your breath-taking smile turns to him, those thoughts falter slightly and he can’t help but flash his dimples right back at you.

“You know you’re sharing some of that loot with me, right?” You ask him, bumping his shoulder as he falls in step next to you as you continue your walk through the neighborhood.

“Psh, I’ve worked hard for this. Should’ve brought your own pillowcase and ring some doorbells if you wanted some candy.” He smirks at you, dark eyes glimmering in the night.

“Uh huh, you’re all talk, Munson. We both know by the end of the night half that bag is coming home with me.”

“Hmph, well I suggest you start putting in the work if you want some of this sugar.” 

The thoughts that immediately run through your head from his teasing remark make your cheeks flush and send a jolt right to your core. You squeeze your thighs together as you walk, attempting to push the sensation away. Thoughts and feelings like this about Eddie are reserved for late nights in your room. As much as you tell yourself it’s wrong, it’s getting harder and harder to resist. The way he teases you doesn’t help either.

The slowly intensifying, pounding pain and soreness from your feet in the cramped purple high heels is a welcomed distracting sensation. You groan softly to yourself as you look around and realize you’re only halfway through Steve’s neighborhood. A glance toward Robin’s red sneakers solidifies your decision that you should’ve followed her steps, switching out the character’s heels for much comfier shoes. 

You look around your group of friends and decide to say fuck it and suck it up. It’s your favorite holiday and you’re with your favorite people, you’re gonna enjoy it despite the pain in your feet and unwelcomed bodily sensations Eddie’s words and looks are striking into you.

As you continue through Steve’s neighborhood, joining in the trick or treating activities despite the few sideways glances from homeowners you earn as teenagers asking for candy, you’re reminded of all the things that make Halloween your favorite.

The cool autumn air.

The changing colors of the leaves that have begun to adorn the streets and sidewalks.

The costumes; from scary to funny, store bought to homemade.

The decorations; glowing orange pumpkins with an array of designs carved into them, orange and purple lights hung along the porches, scarecrows and ghosts littered amongst the lawns.

The slasher films waiting to be watched at home while eating the mountain of candy earned from knocking on your neighbors doors.

The way Dustin takes every chance he can get to say “Ruh roh Raggy”, and the way you and Eddie can’t stop yourselves from giggling every single time. 

You breathe it all in, grounding yourself in this shared moment with your friends you’ll never forget, a permanent smile settling in on your face for the night.

A smile that not even Jason and his idiot friends can stop from creasing your round cheeks. You’re so consumed living in the moment that you don’t even notice them until you hear a loud

“Hey!” Both you and Eddie’s heads turn and spot them across the street, but refuse to let your strides falter.

“Look guys, it’s the Freaks Inc. gang!” he booms, buddies bending over in laughter as they watch your group.

“Pfft, what a tool.” Steve remarks with a scoff, shaking his head as he fixes his gaze away from them and forward, unbothered. Grateful to no longer be grouped with people like him.

When you feel yourself begin to bump into the younger boys whose steps have staggered and attention drawn to the insult, you gently nudge them forward. Muttering a “Keep going, I’ve got this.”

You should just ignore them, not even give them the slither of attention or acknowledgement they’re so desperate for, but you just can’t help yourself. Not when an opportunity arises to burst their egotistical bubble. 

Ever since you and Eddie’s altercation with Jason a month ago, him and his friends have generally left the club alone, not directly confronting any of you. Traded insults with his friends when any of you would walk by, sure, but to be fair the threat you gave him only pertained to if he ever put his hands on any of you again. Anything else is fair game, and it’s a game you have no problem playing. 

You quickly eye him and his costume. He-Man. It’s a nice costume too, nearly identical to the show. Easy when you have Daddy’s money to pay for it. 

“Nice He-Man costume, Jason. Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble filling it out though, huh? Tsk, what a shame.” you say sarcastically, feigning a pouty face with a shrug before your smile returns, rolling your eyes at them as you draw your attention back to your friends. Continuing your walk down the street unphased.

You see Eddie staring at you from the corner of your eye. When you look at him, he’s looking down at you in a mix of endearment, pride, and amazement.

“What? He deserves to get knocked down a peg. Should keep his mouth shut next time.”

“Agreed.” Steve declares from the other side of Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a tight side hug as you walk down the street. You let him, resisting the urge to bury your face and body into his side, his warmth, when his grip lightens and falls from your arm.

After another half hour of knocking on doors, you’re nearly done sweeping through Steve’s neighborhood, his house and Eddie’s van coming back into sight as you approach the last couple of houses. If it wasn’t for already going to every house in the neighborhood, the boys' complaints about how heavy their bags have gotten with candy is signaling the end of the night.

You stand with Eddie at the end of the walkways to the last few houses as the rest get the last of the candy for the night. He catches your eye when he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a rolled joint and a lighter. Just before he lights it, your laugh grabs his attention.

“Really, Eddie? In the middle of this uppity neighborhood?”

“What? I’m only being in character.” He laughs out, only to have you meet him with raised brows and a smirk. “Shaggy and Scooby are stoners and that’s a fact. Constantly having the munchies? I mean, HELLO!”

“You’re so dumb” you jest playfully as you resume your slow stride on the sidewalk.

“Well, you know what they say. Birds of a feather flock together.” He breathes out, keeping in step next to you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh really? How’s about I push your ass down this hill right here?” you tease, gesturing toward the down sloped hill between the houses as you pass.

“Pfft, I’d like to see you try.” he scoffs, playing unphased despite the wide grin on his face.

“Your skinny ass will go flying, right down into that drop off in the woods. Lost forever. Such a tragedy. Some say he's still tumbling to this day.” you sigh dramatically, earning a short but loud laugh from him.

“Uh huh. Well I’m pretty quick on my feet if I do say so myself, and I don’t think you’ll be getting too far in those heels.” he retorts, pointing down to the heels that have made your feet numb at this point.

“Well you see, there’s this concept called taking them off?” You tease, bumping your body against his. “I could outrun you.”

The rest of your friends at the last house on the route are forgotten behind you as you near Steve’s.

“That so?”

“Mhmm.” you state simply, arms crossed against your chest and head held high.

“Say, you still ticklish around… here”

You squeal at the quick flicker of his fingers at the side of your waist, jumping away from him. You take wary steps backward as you move in front of him, hands slightly held out.

“You can outrun me, huh? Wanna test that?” he pushes, creeping closer to you with a mischievous smirk and sparkle in his eye. You’ve known him long enough to know he’s about to make you eat your words.

A quick flinch towards you sends you scurrying. With no chance to take off your heels, your strides are stifled as you run the short distance to Steve’s driveway as quickly as you can. Eddie follows closely behind, tickling your sensitive sides every chance he can get, giggling maniacally when it falters your steps as you flinch away. 

Everyone else on the street probably thinks you’re crazy, freaks. You aren’t paying them any attention anyway as the smile on your face begins hurting your cheeks, eyes zeroing in on Eddie’s van a few short paces away.

You throw yourself against it, but Eddie’s relentless. Going for both your sides at the same time as you turn around to face him, sending you into a fit of giggles as you feebly attempt to push him away.

You see your opportunity and quickly jab your fingers into his armpits, sending him back with a flinch and a chuckle. He gives up, leaning back against the van next to you as you both laugh between attempts to catch your breath.

You playfully smack his arm, earning a fake “Ouch” and one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen adorn his beautiful face.

“You asshole, Eddie-Bo-Beddie” you tease, emphasizing the pronunciation of your favorite personal nickname for him that he’s always claimed to hate. In truth, he loves it.

“Alright, alright. How’s about I share half my loot to make it up to you, what do you say?” he teases back with the plan you both knew was already going to happen anyway.

“Oh my god” you groan and roll your eyes, only making him to laugh more as you push yourself off the van with the rest of your friends quickly approaching.

“Ugh, they make me sick. I wish they’d just kiss already and get it over with.” Robin mumbles to Steve, pulling a laugh from him as he nods in agreement, watching the show you two have put on.

“Tell me about it.”

With both yours and the younger members of the party’s curfews approaching, you say your goodbyes to Robin and Steve. Embracing them both with tight hugs before piling into Eddie’s van.

Riding down the empty streets of Hawkins with the van windows cracked, the cool air a welcomed sensation against your warm cheeks. The smile never fading from your lips as the sounds of Metallica playing low through the van speakers and the chatter from the kids in the back fill your ears. Your head leaning back against the passenger seat headrest rolls to spare a glance to Eddie. His eyes meet yours, mimicking your smile and sending a shock wave right to your heart.

You make me feel like I am young again.

You sigh in content as you face the winding roads again, deciding this year just might be your favorite Halloween yet.

[casablancarossa]

Lipstick Smudge << a [fluffy] taemin x reader scenario>>

For the anon who asked:

hii ^^ could you possibly write something for taemin where you guys are doing that chapstick challenge where you put on different chapsticks and he has to kiss you to guess what flavor it is. Or even that one tiktok trend where you smudge your lipstick and then he goes to fix it and the camera turns and he has lipstick marks all over his face. 🙏🙏

Reposting this because it's a shame it didnt pop up in tags.

You re-align your camera, trying to get a perfect view of the corner of your room. It was the only place that wouldn't have any reflection of the rest of your space. It wasn't that the 70% was dirty or unseemly for an influencer, but most of the time it was to hide the man with the shit eating grin, trying to distract you from creating any good content while he was around.

"Jagiya, I feel offended, you really are trying to hide me huh?" Taemin whines as he catched his hoodie with his face.

It has been 20 minutes since you tried to make sure that you were trying to hide items that might relate to him. Chucking items left and right, out of sight.

"You know, none of my stuff will link back to me...", he lets out a sigh, pouting as he sits on the other side of the phone setup, fiddling with various cases of lipbalms, with the labels frayed and torn off. "Beside you want to live stream don't you?"

It's no secret to those who follow you, that you have a boyfriend and make the excuse that he was the one who isn't interested in being in front of the camera and would rather support you from the side, hidden. Taemin smiled as he picks up of the chapstick and quickly swips the bullet against his lips, before making kissing noises, his lips puckered and pointed at you with that stupid smile on his face. "You're an idiot if you just want a kiss, an plus that's for the challenge!", you cried out halfheartedly as you slide into the seat with a spare phone in hand, ready to post a story that you were about to go on live soon.

For weeks, Taemin was very into the idea of at least making sure that your viewers didn't think you were full of shit by saying you had a boyfriend and just didn't want to show him off. Haters often comment that you were lying and you were completely 'motae solo'. Soon it went viral that you were single and delusional when in fact you had purposedly shoved Taemin into the bushes during one of your walks when Dispactch caught you walking at night by the Han River.

You re-adjust yourself in your seat, counting the numbers of people who had viewed your story before turning on your Insta live and sat back, waiting for your viewers to come in. Your fortnight lives was something that you enjoyed doing, whether it was cooking challenges or just late night pillow talk, you were appreciative of the fans who had swarmed in from TikTok, to join you in your lives.

Soon, you were greeting your followers, conversing with them through the comments they have left and began to introduce the fact that your partner was behind the camera, really wanting to do the chapstick challenge with you. Taemin had caused a ruckus by trying to slide one your indoor clothes line into view, with a perfectly draped sheet on it, so he could hide behind it.

Meanwhile, the comments were in a frenzy, saying how they had never heard you sound so relaxed and giggly before. Some comments were even teasing you to pull down the sheets so they could see your boyfriend. It came to the time where Taemin had reapplied the lipbalm he kept on hand, yelling at you to taste him already.

At his comment, you snorted and laughed, deeming his words as inappropriate because people might take it the wrong way.

"Yeobo, fine, shut up!" You laughed as you wheeled your chair towards the curtain and dart your head to peck his lips before popping out so the viewers could see you smack your lips, hmm-ing and haa-ing about the flavour.

"Cherry?"

"Oh? Is it? I don't know.." Taemin teased.

"What do you mean?", you asked bewildered, reaching back behind the curtains to grab the component out of his hand and reading the underside of it where you had written the flavour. "Ya. Lee-ssi, you need to read the bottom! The fans will get angry at you!", you laughed in defeat as Taemin lets out a loud giggle, enough for the fans to comment about it. "It was cherry by the way.", you speak to the camera.

You reached forward to grab another two unlabelled chapsticks, throwing one towards the back of the curtain for Taemin to catch as you apply one on yourself, the distinct smell and flavour should be easy for him. "All right, I'm ready.", you grinned before moving your head.

An aggravated groan left your throat as you saw Taemin, sheepishly applying the new flavoured balm on his lips. "Yah..", you put out a struggled smile as you were fully slumped into your seat, one hand on your face, massaging your temples. "It's supposed to be my turn, for you to guess the flavour...", you whined as your eyes catch the over flowing number of laughing emojis dancing across the screen.

"Ah okay okay, I got too excited.", Taemin giggles, attempting to wipe his lips before puckering them again for you to kiss.

You lean in to peck his lips, hoping that he would get the right answer. "Ahh! Lemon!", his answer was too confident for your liking.

You had shifted back closer to the phone, to look at the comments with an unamused look on your face saying "No." to his guess, encouraging to try again. Taemin went suddenly quiet, and through the screen, behind the draped sheets, you could see two arms pop out holding a phone with your livestream playing. "Yah, you look shit, when you are pouting like that.", he laughs, teasing you like always.

"What?! You are such an idiot." you breathed out in defeat as the viewers teased that your boyfriend, is such a troublemaker and seems to get a kick out of annoying you.

"Yes, everyone, he has been the bane of my existence for a year now."

"A year?! I'm hurting..."

"Okay, two??? Three?"

"Probably halfway to three? Way before I joined the army."

"Almost three years, he has been a pain in my head" you smiled towards the camera before looking back at the sheets, now seeing the faint glow of a phone screen behind them.

"Was it orange?" He finally comments out.

"Yes... Your turn.", you let out a sigh before returning to look behind the improv-ed covers to see Taemin, smiling at you. He couldn't resist and held your seat by the armrest and pulled your seat towards him so he could plant a soft kiss on your lips before peppering small pecks around your face. Taemin lets out a small cackle before pushing your seat out, causing it to roll back to your desk.

The seat was still swiveled to face him and as you turned around you made your guess. "Was that strawberry? It tasted like strawberries." you muttered.

As you turn to face the camera, it took a while for you to process that the lighting in the room, made it hard for you to discern that your face was now covered in faint tints of pink kisses. While inspecting your face through the screen, you could see Taemin's hands slowly sliding out from the side with his thumbs up followed by an 'okay' sign followed by a series of breathless laughter. "You look like I just mawled you."

"Wow, y/n eonnie, he must really love you. Wah eonnie, you are so lucky.", you read out the comments out loud, snickering at each one, which made you blush.

"Why does he have such femenine lips?", Taemins voice erupted from behind the sheet. "Reported!"

"Imagine if that isn't her boyfriend... Reported." he continues on.

You placed your arm on the desk, propping your chin up as you converse through the comments asking that you should make a TikTok with him right now. You stated once more, you weren't sure what challenge you could do that wouldn't impede on his privacy and internally, it disheartened you that you couldn't scream to the world that you were in love with someone without saying his name, and Taemin couldn't think of ways to console you. He wasn't afraid to admit he was in a relationship with you and it wasn't the first time you two had been linked together anyway. But you kept rejecting the idea because you assumed, both of you may not have the mental constitution to keep fighting the haters.

A couple minutes went by and you resumed doing the chapstick challenge, commenting there was probably 4 more flavours to try. Each one turned more chaotic as Taemin had caused a scene because he was determined to shift the sheet screen closer so he could steal he muscat grape chapstick from your desk without being seen. Your spare phone lit up from under you with a message from Taemin with a link. You opened it up to see the new lipstick tiktok trend and underneath the link, he messages you once more. 'My love let's do this...'

Before you could even collect your thoughts, Taemin spoke out once more, now speaking towards your viewers. "Everyone! Be patient right now, we'll film something okay?"

"Really??", your eyes widened, unsure how to react.

Taemin stood up, his head was just fortunately cut off from view of the camera. He mouths a few words which you understood as, 'lower the camera so we can walk around comfortably'. You followed through, lowering the camera so it focused more on your desk, but still had enough view to see that you and your boyfriend can now be seen from the waist down and were now walking around and there were indeed two people in the room.

"We still have the stream running up and we are viewing it through another phone, so we can still read comments and respond to everyone" you called out cheerfully, hoping the numbers don't die down.

You quickly grab a dark lipstick and carefully applied while Taemin looked at you with such an endearing stare. "Please god tell me why I was gifted such a beautiful partner.", he gleefully jumps and down, barely controlling his excitement.

"Such a con-man, you are only doing this because you are on camera my love."

Effortlessly, your lips began to retaliate with kisses across Taemin's face, each time, he giggles. Every time he checks his reflection through his phone camera he would voice out his displeasement that some of the kiss marks were uneven and that you should either kiss his face harder, or top up your lipstick.

Y/N-nie, what was the most stupid thing he did?

"Oh...? There was that time he said he could walk across the frozen pond and if he got to the other side, I owed him a new kitten", you started much to Taemin's behest. "Well.. He fell halfway in and was super super grumpy but I got him a grey and white kitten a week later."

Once he was satisfied with his over all look, Taemin takes off the jacket he was wearing, boldly showcasing more of his figure, but in his head, no doubt people wouldn't confuse him with a look-a-like, people would know it was him. Lee Taemin.

How did you two meet?

"We met an an event. She was panicking so hard she skipped greeting me and shook hands with my friend instead." Taemin replied, causing you to smack his chest.

The lipsticks swipes across your lips for the final time to get it even before asking your boyfriend if he was ready to film. He passes a phone to you, with the front camera at the ready. You proceed to start recording with one hand while lipstick in the other, bumping your arm to cause a smudge at your lower lip.

As Taemin's hand reaches up to caress your cheek, he guides you by the chin to look at him as you pan the camera towards him, his side profile in sight, obviously covered with stamps of your painted lips, looking at you lovingly before casting a devilish grin from the corner of his lips. The camera pulls back slightly, so that both of you were in frame, smiling contently as you look at each other, before facing the camera with a cheeky smile as he pecks your cheeks, leaving another faint tint of the strawberry chapstick.

As far as content making goes, it was perfect and you felt like if you could, you would post it as is, one try, one take. But you saved it as draft after viewing it and placed the phone down. Commenting out loud, there was no need to redo it, it looked perfect enough, Taemin agreed with you before adding that he thinks it would go viral. Your head spins to throw him a frown and pout, objecting to the idea despite the fact he knows, how much you would love the thought of finally no longer keeping things a secret.

Will you be posting it?

Please post it. What did you film? Will it be uploaded soon?

Guys... They were suspiciously quiet... Guys.. It's okay to turn of the livestream now if you want.

You and Taemin giggle at the following comments before he lunges behind the camera as you tilt your phone upwards, letting it re-focus as you waited in front of it as you continue talking to Taemin. It was obvious to anyone who was watching you that you loved your boyfriend so much. Your eyes were so soft and endearing towards him and you looked at him as if it was he first time you saw him and Cupid had his arrow at the ready.

"Hmm, I'm not sure I'll post it, but it's on drafts so you never know", you sang in a sweet teasing tone. "But please ask questions.."

Y/N eonnie's boyfriend. Do you think, eonnie is the one?

"Do you think I'm the one?"

"Everyday.", Taemin replied eliciting causing a reaction on your face that could only be described as look of awe and constant realization how in love with you were.

An hour had somehow passed by and Taemin was more than happy to air out embarrassing stories, habits of yours that he found adorable and personal questions about his likes and dislikes. Everyone was ecstatic to know that he was more keen in being in lives if he was allowed to be more present.

"Everyone.. Once I finally reveal myself, hopefully you keep on supporting y/n and us." Taemin announced.

"Jagiya, you are giving them too much hope, we have to end the stream soon and get to our dinner with your...friends..", the last word caused you to stumble almost saying 'manager', which might imply that your boyfriend was somewhat more of a big-deal.

You were finally addressing your goodbyes reminding your viewers that you will be back on again and on your next post that they should comment what they would like to see next. However your attention was caught by the alarming statements that flooded your screen.

Wait is this real? Eonnie? You are a lucky bitch. How the heck did you catch a guy like him. Gosh you could see it his eyes, this isn't a joke. Y/N and Taemin look good together. Is 'dinner with friends', actually dinner with SHINee?

The last two comments had made you dizzy in your seat. What was going on? Your hands would instinctively fumble around your desk so you could find your phone to check what was going on. If it weren't for Taemin, clearing his throat you wouldn't have looked up at him. There he was leaning over he desk, resting on one hand while the other was waving his phone with the screen pointed out to you.

It had not occurred to you that it was your tiktok account that was logged in on his phone and while you were too distracted trying to read the comments, Taemin had handed his phone to you to film instead and while he was answering questions, he was oddly pre-occupied with his phone. From what you could see between his phone and how your spare phone is going insane with notifications. You quickly open your phone to check. It was official. Taemin had posted the video on your behalf and even linked it in Instgram, tagging his ID.

"I'm not scared to tell the world that I love you. So I posted it.", he smiled.

Taemin smirked as worry had set on your face, lips slightly gaped in shock as Taemin made the first move to publicize your relationship. Like he was the first one to say I love you almost three years ago. Like he was the first one to chase after you after a serious argument. Like he was the first one to do informal introductions with his family.

The woman was too stunned to speak kekekeke. Holy shit, she really didn't expect this. You guuuys, you are too cute. Please don't break each other's heart.

Taemin quickly rushed around the table and knelt down beside your seat, wrapping an arm around you. Your eyes followed his line of movement, never breaking away, so many questions in your head and so much more emotions. Primarily, you were ready to cry.

"Okay, while y/n recovers, see you in two weeks guys!", he waves towards the camera.

Your body slumps down onto the desk, struggling to let out a pained chuckle before sitting up slightly to cover your suddenly flushed face with your hands. You were so embarrassed that you continued to try hide your face with one hand as you waved at the camera.

"You are insane Lee Taemin. You idiot", you giggle, smacking his shoulders playfully in a repeated manner as he leans forward to end the livestream, flashing a playful grin and thumbs up as it cuts and the live has ended.

"Yeah, I'm insane about you, but now we don't have to hide it anymore. Plus, the old Dispatch articles didn't have a lot of hate comments on it...", he calmly stands up and leans on the edge of the desk,

"Yeah.. But your fans are going to rip me apart... I'm not really.. Conventional?"

"We'll figure it out okay?"

"Okay..."

"So... It was viral years ago. But do you think fans will realize you were the girl at the fan event and you struggled to shake hands with me and greeting Onew hyung instead?"

"Yes, because Onew laughed at you because you kept your hands out waiting and just shook your own hands when I didn't go back to you.."

Taemin rolls his eyes, remembering the video in question, reaching forward to pull the seat you were in, closer to him. He rests each hand on an arm rest and looks down at you with, kissing the crown of your head before catching your lips.

"Well now I got you back, and you are mine.."

[afusionoffandoms]

I'm all for assigning things that aren't inherently trans as trans, like if a Japanese bullet train happens to have pretty pastel white, blue and pink colours and cherry blossoms, it's a trans train, we own it now, fuck the haters. I love that. Make people mad, because those who would be offended by that, are not my allies regardless.

But it bugs me that most of these cases, and most trans pride stuff, like trans positive posters made for pride month, or it's merch of some kind, or anything related to trans memes, or say, a queer tarot or playing card deck with a trans card in them, even if the character featured is explicitly a transman, it's always feminine in nature.

It's always cherry flowers and glitter and unicorns and pastels and knee socks (and I know these things aren't inherently gendered, and I know indulging in femininity is important to a large number of trans folks) but the issue I have is that it makes trans synonymous with cute and sparkly and delicate things. Stereotypically, symbolically, feminine things. And I wouldn't have an issue with it if it wasn't already a very deep and ongoing problem with trans anything, that only AFAB non-binary and AMAB transfeminine people are fronted, while the rest of us are pushed back, never seen nor heard, forgotten even in activism and politics, never represented in any way, even by our own kind.

Where's trans coloured/representing things that are filthy and grunge? Dark, hairy, scary, or nasty or neons or, god forbid, masculine? Why does everything trans always have to be pretty?

It stings, not because it's in itself a particularly big deal, but because that specific spot has been rubbed raw by countless, persistent and unrelenting friction for as long as I can remember.

So the next time you want to represent anything trans in art or whatever, even if it's in a meme. Consider not always making it cute and pretty. Let all of us feel represented, if at least by our own.

[himejoshikomaeda]

LES FOISFOIS FAVORITE SONG FROM EACH TOUHOU SOUNDTRACK

th01 highly responsive to prayers: gotta be eternal shrine maiden. angel’s legend is good, but eternal shrine maiden just has what the PC-98’s soundboard did best. little beeps and boops that somehow sound so chock-full of emotion. fantastic stuff.

th02 story of eastern wonderland: love-colored magic is, of course, legendary, but my favorite for this game is complete darkness. absolutely masterfully work with that melody.

th03 phantasmagoria of dim.dream: obligatory respects to strawberry crisis to make sure i don’t get mauled for saying this, but reincarnation is my personal favorite off this soundtrack. there isn’t really a place to note this, but the SC-8850 version of reincarnation is fucking phenomenal, too.

th04 lotus land story: blah blah blah bad apple okay no but seriously it’s maiden’s capriccio. that’s reimu’s theme. i don’t care about this mystic oriental love consultation shit, this spring path crap. maiden’s capriccio. the imperishable night version fucks hard too.

th05 mystic square: this one is really hard. romantic children rules. plastic mind is unreal. the grimoire of alice fucks. but the best one in my opinion is alice in wonderland. extra stage themes tend to be really good, but i looooooove this one.

th06 embodiment of scarlet devil: locked girl ~ the girl’s sealed room. again being a contrarian here and not picking UN owen was her. cuz. i dunno. i like it.. be nice to me.. side note, but i love how the instruments in eosd and dolls in pseudo paradise sound.. idk, out of tune? it’s nice.

th07 perfect cherry blossom: there are a lot of really good ones here but i’d be lying if i said it wasn’t necrofantasia, contrarian though i may usually be.

th08 imperishable night: i don’t knowwww this one’s too hard they’re all so good.. illusionary night ~ ghostly eyes, nostalgic blood of the east ~ old world, flight of the bamboo cutter ~ lunatic princess, and extend ash ~ person of hourai all come to mind, but honestly i think i have to give it to love-colored master spark. i know it’s not “from” this game but it’s my favorite on the soundtrack, sooooo.. whatever. my list.

th09 phantasmagoria of flower view: wind god girl. “that’s from shoot the bullet” i knowwww shut upppp i’m not doing side games.

th10 mountain of faith: faith is for the transient people, full stop. the gensokyo the gods loved is practically the “touhou theme” to me, but sanae’s theme is like. in my top 3 favorite songs in the series. those guitars kick ass. this game’s soundtrack is phenomenal.

th11 subterranean animism: green-eyed jealousy. followed closely by satori maiden ~ 3rd eye. literally every song on this game’s soundtrack is a banger. a real no-skip album. but i am fucking addicted to parsee’s theme. it’s like bitter, ugly crying as music. i can’t sing its praises enough.

th12 undefined fantastic object: this game sucks ass but the music’s good. emotional skyscraper ~ cosmic mind is the best song.

th13 ten desires: it’s shoutoku legend ~ true administrator, but i wanna give a shout-out to night sakura of dead spirits anyway, because it’s great.

th14 double dealing character: kobito of the shining needle ~ little princess. but i mean. i am kissing reverse ideology on the mouth with tongue. i love you seija i love you shimmy you’ll get ‘em next time

th15 legacy of lunatic kingdom: honestly? unforgettable, the nostalgic greenery. i love the spacey sound of this soundtrack, and none of them capture that sound better than that. the lake reflects the cleansed moonlight is good for the same reason. i have a lot of love for the sea that reflects one’s home planet, too.

th16 hidden star in four seasons: not huge on this soundtrack, but my favorite song is swim in a cherry blossom-colored sea.

th17 wily beast and weakest creature: electric heritage. what a tasty piano in this one. the gorgeous melody is also present in entrust this world to idols ~ idolatrize world, but i like the piano in electric heritage better. idolatrize world is an easy second, though.

th18 unconnected marketeers: this soundtrack is so romantic. very lovely melodies. my favorite is the perpetual snow of komakusa blossoms. it’s memorable to me for whatever reason.

th19 unfinished dream of all living ghost: i’m gonna choose to limit myself to the songs that aren’t covers of existing touhou songs, cuz some of them are pretty similar even if i might like them “more”, like corpse voyage ~ be of good cheer. so i’ll go with the deviants’ unobstructed light ~ kingdom of nothingness. the vocal samples are cool.

i’ll list my favorite songs from the doujin albums in a separate reblog, because damn this is getting long!!

[tassodelmiele]

The Magic Whatever

I needed to put this chaos into concrete writing-something.

I know this would ended as a mess in my mind, with no possibilities to born.

So I write it.

And now I'll feel bad if I won't keep on with the story.

Hope you're having a nice day filled with chocolate-

Disclaimer: titles make no sense.

Have a nice day

....

Soap didn't die on that mission; not 'cause there was no gunshot.

Bullet just disappeared.

And he found who made the trick, bringing the whole team with him in a rabbit hole filled with dangerous stuff sprinkled in lusterdust and smelling blood-scent, crumbled in caramelized sugar and glazed madeleines.

'Cause Marigold just did what she does best: following her instinct. And that day she just stole the bullet flying toward Soap's head.

1- Only thing you can trust in the morning is to have your pajama still on

«You have to trust me»

You have to.

Sure.

As if there were other possibilities. 

Anything could have done the work on that shitty morning, everything good enough to make the clock worth listening to: coffee's scent; pancake pan-fry's fizzle; a baseball bat in the middle of the forehead.

Anything but a geared man with a loaded gun rushing in the bedroom, making her remember that the whole load of fucks happened yesterday where just the cherry on top of a brown cake that didn't smell of chocolate.

Rushing upstairs became a stumble on every step; at the umpteenth shot hands ran on the ears and knees crumbled down, crouching the whole body on the floor.

I don't wanna die I don't wanna die I don't wanna-

A rough pat on the back awakened padded synapsis. There was a sudden yell: 

«Run!»

Legs did the work better than brain, jerking up, stomping on the stairs using no breath at all, with lungs empty of air and full of ashes and gun-powder scent.

Sudden cracks and blows followed the run to the second floor, heartbeats stuffed ears and throat, climbing on the gut's walls with the acidic adrenaline's aftertaste. Eyes were watering from fear and dirt, legs were moving by heart to the most open space in the house: the balcony; the goddamn 1x1 meter balcony with a lovely Thai grocery shop's sight. 

Chest crushed on the railing so suddenly, fresh spring breeze hit her with a kick in the lungs.

I'm out

The consciousness got foggy at that moment of paradise, and a tight grasp on the pajama brang it back down to the shitty ground: someone tugged her far from the metal grip of the railing, sucking her entrails backwards to throw her on the ground.

She slides all the short way to the wall; the head burned in a sudden bang on the fucking drainpipe.

Someone collected her body by pulling the shirt again, and lifted her whole weight. Terrible dry and smelly scent of old and powder hit her nostrils, one millimeter away from the not so ensuring face of a stranger in some sort of full-military asset. 

He smiled so kindly while spitting:

«Goodbye, dorogoy»

And pushed her out of the balcony.

Whatever came next, is void: body and soul get vacuumed in the eternal nothingness of a fall from the fourth floor; eyes squeezed, adrenaline rushed to the brain, screaming: you're gonna die; but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to grab, nothing to save her.

My breakfast's still in the microwave; a stupid last thought.

Just, it wasn't the last.

A firm hand catched her ankle, burning soft skin under rough gloves. She dangled, hanging still so dangerously close to the railing that the head banged again, but that was the smallest of her problems. Voices came from above, heard hazy and fuzzy in her scattered brain, yells and metal exchanging places as if someone was trying to drive a nail with a gun.

Then, a more nitid, strangely pronounced: «Let bounty fall»

And a clear loaded gun.

Her fried brain took advantage of that moment to make a to-do-list: the missing will, in case of premature death (almost certainly at that point); the promise to eat grandma's piadina at her home; a pistachio-macchiato she owned Johnny since he brought her home during a storm; oh, and…

…and air swallowed her up with the force of muscles she certainly didn't have.

The same, tight grip that was avoiding her a spine-crusher-jump, suddenly lifted her from the ankle, with a pull so strong that she was sure wings had grown on her back, letting her fulfill the dream to be a fairy. But as soon as the body flipped over the balcony, the gloved hand made her change trajectory with a fast move.

Air gave her stomach a kick and her guts a stir, while whoever was moving her threw every inch of Winnie the Pooh pajama, yellow air and morning sickness on the "dorogoy" one, as if she was a goddamn club.

She was smashed on the man, facepalming her nose on his gear, and he was tossed KO on the ground.

Floor's caress hit her too, still held by ankles and, maybe, with a kneecap a little bit out of its place.

«Ye'r alright?»

The known voice reached her ears, and that was the first good news since one hour.

He's still here

Then she kinda blacked out, not dazed enough to faint, but at least to replace sounds with heartbeats and sight with foggy, swirling floor tiles. 

Moment of silence.

Johnny pointed at who they were supposed to protect.

«What in the bloody hell-»

«There wasn't time» was the rushed up answer. Ghost let the naked ankle go, patting his oddly slimy gloves on the tights. 

«Why 're women so creamy?»

«Beauty purposes»

«'S horrible»

«Didn't think you were so picky»

«I don't like touching maggot's texture, if that's what you mean by "being picky"»

Soap knelt next to her, who faltered something inaudible as soon as being touched. He stuck his finger around her joints, checking for potential damages.

She whined as he turned her face up to him: there was a big, yellowy spot next to the left side eye.

«That was already there» Ghost's specified.

«Aye, I know»

Fingers pressed on her knees.

«She truly is a strong one» Lt. muttered.

«Told ya»

«Difficult to believe»

«Ye've literally throwed her like a goddamn baseball bat»

Ghost silently looked at the girl, splattered on the ground.

«It worked»

He crunched down, collecting her body on his back as a potato bag.

«'S better get the hell outta here»

«What 'bout wake her up first?»

«Are ya proposing to explain her the whole shit bag now?»

Soap hesitated for two seconds; that sounded as a negative answer for the Lt.

◌◌◌◌◌

One hour later, morning coffee hit Price with strong aroma, cigar aftertaste and a plethora of questions condemned to be unresolved.

He sipped, holding the mug a little longer in front of his face just to look at her without making it too obvious how bad he had no idea of what the fuck was the matter with that random yellow-haired lady sit in his office, surrounded by Johnny and his pathetical attempt to be comforting.

«Is» he pointed at her «she the target?»

Gaz nodded. «Soap said so»

«Mh». He sipped again, pondering about it. 

«A bloody child»

«Apparently she's twentythree»

«What's the point?»

«Bakery worker, living in a suburb's flat, three roommates-»

«The point in her being a target» Price specified.

Gaz lowered the voice, trying to capture some crumble of whatever Soap was saying to the girl who was, luckily, giving 'em her back. He carefully opened a pack of crackers. «We've had a speech 'bout it. You already forgot?» 

The captain pierced Gaz's breakfast in a cold glare.

«You're as helpful as a mosquito net in a submarine»

A sudden fear of downgrading hit the sergeant. The cracker came back in the pack.

«…sorry cap. She's the» he cleared his throat, feeling a little stupid saying: «someone with a magic whatever», as Soap had described her the first time.

Memory about the oddest Task Force's meeting of all time gave Price a facepalm. 

He swallowed half the cup of coffee at once.

«What in the bloody hell are we doing»

«…an unbearable, complete fucking disaster»

Patting her head was an option Soap was evaluating for half an hour, but maybe it wasn't the most clever move. He ended up looking at her very firmly.

«That's the bloody hell you've saved me from»

No signs of life from the other side. He munched a few swears, knowing so well what he was trying was as confusing as telling a chicken that it could fly like eagles with its shitty wings.

«Look» he started again, third time in a row «'m not kidding, 'k? I know it's you who 'm looking for, 'm just asking a little help to understand how in the fuck a goddamn bullet disappeared one inch from ma head»

She wasn't trembling, crying, fainting; maybe she wasn't even breathing, sitting still in front of his face while Soap had a complete visual of her pissed face, and the lovely sight of Gaz eating crackers and Price silently hating everyone while standing in the corridor.

«Two years»

The story began again in a low sigh. Soap raised two fingers at his temple.

«It was two years ago. I was 'bout to be bloody dead meat, with a shoot here, a russian bullet in ma brain»

He decided it was time for the secret weapon: a piece of newspaper came out from his pocket, shown as if it was the Saint Grall in all its oldness and perfection.

«'Ve found this». Soap pointed at the paper: a photo, five written lines. «It's you. Hospitalized 'cause of a bullet nearly pierced your temple»

The sheet got closer to her face.

«Except for you being alone. In your home. And I know ye'r no suicidal» 

Silence. Again.

Soap managed to pat her shoulder, a middle way between raising his voice to be the bad policeman, and pinching her cheeks to be the friendly one.

«...'m sorry for the shitty tons of lies 've told ye. At the bakery, I mean». It was so stupid to make apologies, but he did it anyway. «Duty purposes, laddie»

He gave her another pat.

«Fact is that who tried to kill me knows you». He chose to get straight to the point. «'Cause ye've got…dunno. Something. And that something saved me, somehow. And look, gorgeous, I don't believe in "abrakadabra", and whole Harry Potter's universe's a shitty filmography for ma taste. I just know I'm still breathing 'cause of you, and I'm used to return favors»

«There's no point in explain myself if you don't believe in magic»

Voice cut her throat sharply yet loud, destroying every Soap's attempt of being nice. Her still swollen eyes pointed at him. 

«Is not something I can explain»

«Try» 

It was so surreal as a situation that if a llama with a hat appeared, no one would have been surprised. 

«I'll listen, at least»

◌◌◌◌◌

Snake bites hurt the most when the weather wasn't stable. Like an old good war scar, hidden under shiny gold dots that she constantly tortured in search of a crumble of quiet.

«Lost in yer thoughts?»

Marigold's hair waved like a dandelion's shade in the gloomy morning. A big cup of pistachio-macchiato was presented in all of its greatness to the usual early-morning customer.

«Kinda funny weather, isn't it?» 

«That's London, laddie»

She chuckled kindly, repeating a motion used with every visitor that became authentic just with Johnny.

«I'd rather be surrounded by coriander field»

«That's what ye planted 'round the house?»

«My parents' choice. I don't like them, smell becomes odd on rainy days. Better than London's morning, though»

«Aye. I bet sun suits ye better»

Another chuckle, and she went KO with a throaty laugh that exploded hidden in her hands. Johnny raised his cup.

«Cheers»

Two months before he showed up out of nowhere, stating "the smell of good coffee" had brought him to the Merry Marguerite.

Marigold had seen all sort of human being in her bakery-waitress experience: who pretended to look at ease in suit, leather bag and badly knotted tie; who was hiding from his life, drowning every brain cell in sugar; happy ones and silent ones; lost ones and usual ones; strong espresso ones, and milky-chocolaty-heavy cream latte ones.

Johnny was none of them.

Johnny was a usual stranger, a known foreigner, a recalled wayfarer; a usual guest who showed up every ten years, but you know him since you've been born. 

«Merry Marguerite. 'S yer name?». That was the question in front of the first pistachio-macchiato the girl had ever been asked for.

«Nope. That's my boss previous cat»

«Cool. So 'm not gonna call you Margie or somethin'»

What a funny way to ask a name. She smiled at first, kindly, disappearing in the back to grab some fresh pain au chocolat. 

Marigold didn't expect him to wait for an actual answer. 

He came and clinged on the counter, with those huge biceps relaxed and a silly smile, a little cocky but never disrespectful. He asked for his macchiato, made a joke about the bakery's name and waited for her to give him something back.

After three days she giggled him a quick: «Mary, Or Goldie. Doll, if you want, some friends of mine used to call me Doll»

«'Cause ye'r cute?»

«'Cause as a child I used to cut every inch of my doll's hair and make them join the "punk club"»

And tortured doll's stories were what made them friends. 

«You're gonna have green tongue at this rate»

«Can't help it. That's the best pistachio-macchiato in town»

«Of course. That's why there's a secret recipe»

Johnny raised his eyes from the cup. He was dressed up almost the same every day: jeans and t-shirt, mohawk and bright-curious eyes as blue as the sky London decided not to show to his citizens.

«Spit it out»

Answer was a long breath of her, blown on the fresh madeleines.

«A secret's a secret, Johnny»

«Ye made me curious, though»

«That what secrets are about: make people eager to know what's underneath»

«Aye. I can tell ye're good at that»

Her fingers stopped working on the correct rearrangement of the custard croissants. 

«Yeah? Am I that good at not blabbing our secret recipes?» she laughed. «I'll add the skill to my curriculum, then»

The waiting for an answer became a little too long, making her raise her sight.

Johnny wasn't really laughing: his smile was telling something that could go from "I know what kinda porn you're into" to "the yellow in your hair is brightening my day up".

He suddenly smirked: «Feeling under pressure, Doll?», ending the question in the last macchiato sip. 

«Should I?». She clinged on the counter, a little cheeky «Am I under interrogation?»

«Ah» The empty cup ended up on the side, allowing him to have a full vision of her hair brightness. «It would be no good for ye»

«How come?»

«C-u-r-i-o-s-i-t-y» He spelled. «I'll end up digging too deep on ye to find what's underneath. It's not pleasant havin' a stranger stomping on yer garden»

«And what if you lose yourself while finding a way out of me?»

«Ye'll guide me. 'M sure ye've got signs in whatever wood has grown inside of you»

And Marigold became silent, softly smiling a sad sight, unexpected through the funny mood Johnny thought to have been built.

«And…» A warm, sugary smelling madeleine was offered to him as a pay in advance. «If you find the way out, would you tell me too, please, which way I ought to go from there?»

He chuckled, suddenly kinda softened by her tone, catching the quote so well he wasted no time to replay:

«It depends a good deal on where you want to get to»

«I don't much care where»

«Then it doesn't much matter which way you go»

Whole bakery filled with the loss of words that baked the room in glazed and caramelized smell, crunchy as a chocolate cookie fresh from the oven. Silence got stuffed with coffee sipped under breath, time got replaced with madeleine's crumbs rolled under the fingertips.

The first bite on the pastry broke the spell. Johnny ate it whole, chewing slowly.

«Seems like, even if ye're lost in yer wonderland, ye'v found a way to me»

And then, she knew.

She knew he had read her somehow, even if he hadn't understood a single word.

It was two years ago that the dream went away: a man alone, dark and chaos of voices, blood smell and an odd, painful hold on the guts; words shouted fast and aggressively, a clock ticking, the well known feeling of something that was about to happen.

A shot. 

And the sudden awakening in a sweat lake, breath lost in the dream and the pressure against her lungs screaming that there wasn't time left.

Marigold didn't know why she had chosen to go to bed that early, as much as she didn't know why she was running out of bed, stomping on the fallen sheets to reach the bathroom curled on her reversed stomach, with guts mixing inside as if she was dish-washing her organs.

Lungs were closed, breath fought to come in and out and heart started racing faster, pounding so much blood to her head. Fingers grasped the hair, dug the scalp, searched for a way to the brain like something was desperately trying to get out, or get in, she didn't know, it was just so painful, so hopeless, so furious, and clock ticked faster, louder, stuffing head and eardrums while voices become clearer, surrounding her in a battlefield that certainly wasn't her bathroom anymore.

Everything came to a peak of adrenaline piercing her brain. She grabbed something from somewhere, tearing it away from a reality that wasn't her, that shouldn't have been her, in which she didn't belong. Her fingers grasped the bullet, pulling it away from him, whoever him was.

And she just took it with her, in the bathroom, stepping out of the trajectory fast enough to let it just scratch her head.

◌◌◌◌◌

«Why?»

Her shoulders scrolled, stiff from the tension.

«I've asked myself so many times. Maybe because I know you were dying. Whoever you were. Whatever you were doing»  

«When we met the first time, did ye recognize me?»

«No. Dream wasn't that clear»

«Did you speak 'bout it with family? Friends, or-»

«Is not that easy to explain, I've told you»

«Have ye done it before?»

She havered on the chair, eyebrows frowned and lower lips bitten to hold the trembling.

«Dunno». Voice raised to hide the fear, replacing it with slow boiled anger. «Maybe»

«Ye don't know?»

«No» She shouted. «I can't know, I've not got a secret diary about headaches and nightmares, sorry»

«Ye'r tellin' me ye've got some sorta "telekinetic" power-»

«'M telling you nothing. Just how it went that night»

«Aye, that's what 'm saying: you're describing me, if not a magic trick, at least a psychic ability»

«I don't know what it is» Words became sharp pebbles thrown randomly out of her guts. «And if you wanted to thank me 'cause you're still alive, I accept your gratitude, even if you've brought me home a goddamn bunch of armed people»

She hit the right spot to make him straighten his back on the chair, while still trying to upload information about the whole "dream" matter.

Soap knew his face got a little crinkle around the eyes and the stiff teeth.

«We've brought none to you, Doll. They would have been there to kill you anyway»

«I don't have any Russian friends. Nor enemies»

He mumbled: «Aye», as if he already knew what kind of people she was acquainted with, as if he'd already dug her whole life. And she faltered, squeezing fists on her pajamas, shaking in a motion of frustration that got her to the guts. 

«What? Have you already scanned me? You've done what the fuck you wanted with my free day just for what?»

Johnny fell from an apple tree.

«We went to save you-»

«Sure, after spending whole months telling me bullshits. ‘Cause everything was bullshit. Correct? Our chats at the bakery, you working as a PC technician, your terrible coffee tastes…»

Words died on her tongue in a sudden spin of her head. She grabbed her temples, rilling fingertips around the pale skin, and hissed as the digits touched the livid bruise around the eye.

Liquorice aroma filled her nostrils in a strong caress; Soap was offering her a candy pack.

«Ye've not eaten this mornin'» He muttered, recalling the time at the bakery when she almost fainted 'cause of skipped breakfast and lower pressure. 

She took a bunch of bitter-sweet treats, stuffing her mouth.

Johnny's sight made a fly to his feet, collecting time before blowing: «Wasn't all bullshits. Sorry, anyway»

«Why that much effort? What for?»

«Get to know ye. I need to be sure 'bout you»

«Pretty sure I'm as clear as an empty fish tank to you, by now»

«Wrong»

She frowned, irritated from the tip toes to the dry hair's double edges. Liquorice candy cracked under her teeth.

«Whaddya mean? That I can't even know how the fuck I play ma goddamn, stupid society-role?»

«Calm down laddie, 's nothin' this pretentious, was just giving ma take on you»

»…mh» another candy ended up chewed under her tongue. «So I'mma childish whoever to you and your mates?»

Soap gazed at her, chuckling, pondering about how seriously he needed to take her bratty chat. 

«…was life what made you that difficult to handle?»

«Dunno, you tell me, 's you who filled me in shit to "get to know me"»

At this point a strong, harsh incipit of voice pierced through the corridor, shouting: «The goddamn bloody Jesus of Laswell has finally brought me that stupid-…»

Ghost's steps slowed down as he faced two idiots stuck in front of the office door: one holding a half-pack of crackers, the other was drinking from an empty mug.

Deciding how to react brought him to the right conclusion to pretend nothing was happening. He passed a blue folder to Price, who was badly hiding shame behind a I-wasn't-eavesdropping kinda look.

«Intel 'bout that russian» Ghost explained.

Captain coughed a: «Did he speak?»

«I was very persuasive. Dunno why Laswell needed to write down what he'd already spit with his teeth»

«Bureaucracy can't be avoided. Verdict?»

«Clear as a nuclearized swamp in the middle of nowhere» 

«'S what he told you?»

«He told me» skull mask turned darker to match its owner's attitude, lowering on Price's coffee scent breath. «They were there to rob. I made him tell…»

He turned, almost instinctively, as he heard two voices muttering from the office, recognizing Soap's one in the being-as-nice-as-possible mood. 

And he saw those horrible yellow bob hair again, the oddest pajama with little Winnie the Pooh stamps, and bruises marked on the arm that Ghost was quite sure was the one he made collide with the Russian soldier.

«Why is that child still there?»

«Security»

«That's why I'm asking you. Shouldn't be held, like, somewhere safer?»

«Nothin's safer than my office»

Ghost blown, nodding ironically.

«Plus» The folder came back to the Lt. «Soap wasted no time trapping her in that sorta interrogatory». Price gazed at them, knowing well Johnny was aware they had listened to everything. «Don't think he's cleared his mind 'bout you-know-what, though»

«Better he does, since we've rushed all of this shit 'cause of that» 

Price sighed, Gaz chuckled 'cause it was funny seeing Ghost complaining like an old man, and the Lieutenant just growled again: «An enormous ton of shit»

«Following that lady wasn't time wasted, at least. There is something stinky hidden underneath». The last cracker was being chewed in a mess of crumbles on the shirt. Gaz muttered a swear before adding: «She was being chased by those men. Fully armed, you said»

«Affirmative. Three, ready to kill»

«What were you sayin' 'bout it?»

«That russian» Ghost instantly reconnected his synapsis with the previous speech, recalling his fists on the man's face with a hidden smirk. «said they were sent by some sorta monk»

The statement made the audience caught by suspense. Frowned eyebrows and tilted foreheads spoke for themselves.

Gaz tried to break the silence with a cautious: «Some sorta wha-»

But Price felt the urge to make a fast recall:

«Four months ago, Soap found that girl with the "magic whatever" that he stated saved him from Makarov. Two days ago» he counted on his fingers «Soap spotted a man following her home. He also did the day after. That made Sergeant suspicious and you two eventually get involved in that sorta "saving" operation»

«Soap was right, at least. Someone was keeping a close watch on her»

«Yeah, but» Captain's hand flew in the air, holding his line of discussion. «Am I the only one noticing there's a bloody nothin' logic 'bout this? Are we really getting involved in somethin' raised by a "someone saved me with magic, and I'm gonna find him"?»

Ghost gazed at him, eyes half-hidden by the mask.

«You trusted Soap»

«Undoubtedly» Was shouted so clearly that nothing was left to be clarified.

It wasn't Soap himself the wrong variable in the equation.

It was that Soap was right. 

And it was not logical. So illogical it was actually happening, and Price couldn't just register an impossible chance that was occurring in front of his goddamn eyes.

«What if» Gaz suggested, licking cracker crumbles out of his lips «We just ask her?»

«Ya heard: she doesn't know»

«Yeah, well, maybe she doesn't know if it's safe to spit out the truth in front of three strangers and an almost ex-friend» He nodded toward Soap. «'S not like he's playin' his cards well»

«What do you suggest, sergeant?»

«We could just-»

And the chair that was hosting Marigold's butt suddenly got thrown on the floor by her sudden standing. Three pairs of eyes caught her taking on Soap in all her pajamas and yellowness, without a single world left as she grabbed the sergeant's shirt with both hands, roaring with a voice thought impossible for one her size:

«Just let me at least pretend I did something good!!»

She turned her still naked feet, ready to run home somehow, killing spree in her clenched fists and rage in her bruised throat.

Steps died immediately at the trio's sight.

The otter-puppy eyed with a hat; the good twin of Chris from "The day before" ; the Dia de los muertos cosplayer in the wrong season.

Classification ended with a kick in the head from her own brain, which told her to have a good look at that scary-skeleton mask.

She blew her cheeks, finger pointed at Ghost as she shouted almost with a growl:

«Youfuckin'sonofa-!»

◌◌◌◌◌

[strawberryfairi]

Hello girl!! I love the stuff you write, it’s so immersing and fun to read,

To start off, how about JJK men and where they’d take you on a first date! Maybe also if they fumble or not? Or something along the lines of that if you’d like!

Note🧚🏾‍♀️: Omg hey🙋🏾‍♀️ that is so so sweet, thank you so much🥹!! I really appreciate that 'cause sometimes I be like dang, is my writing ass🧍🏾‍♀️🤡💀?? Lol but anywaaaayssssss...I decided to go and try the short fic kind of route for these so they'll be on the longer side, therefore I'm gonna make it a multipart thing! (P.S. Lmk also if the short fic version gave as opposed to the just straight bullet point thoughts)

JJK + First Date Headcanons

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

CHOSO KAMO ʚ🌹ɞ

Choso, being new to the dating world and not having really anyone to go to for advice on this particular field, chooses what he believes is the smart way to go....to the internet. There's so many articles, Youtube videos, and even movies that discuss the topic of "The Perfect First Date". The options are overwhelming, yet there's one idea that really catches his eye.

It's a Saturday, just hitting around twelve in the afternoon, and Choso is right on time just as he said he'd be. He's at your door, dressed in a black- fairly loose fitted- button up top, with acid wash black ripped jeans. His hair is in his signature style, the two spiky buns that you absolutely adore on him. You could smell the subtle hint of cologne on him, a very earthy and mellow fragrance that seemed to match his overall personality well. It was highly attractive.

He looks so nervous, and honestly, a huge part of you was relieved as you were shaking in your own boots as well.

"H-hey" He stammers cutely, "You ready to go?"

A sweet smile etches it's way across your glossy lips, "Yeah, I'm ready!"

He extends his right arm, allowing for you to link yours with him as he takes you to his car out front of your place. "You look beautiful by the way;...as always." He compliments with a faint dusty pink hue across his pale cheeks.

"Thank you. You look great as well; as always." You chuckle lightly, feeling your own cheeks heat up right along with him.

The drive isn't too long, and you figure out exactly where he's taking you as he pulls up to a beautiful looking arboretum parking lot, in the outskirts of Tokyo. You let out a soft gasp, heart warming at his choice in date destination.

"Oh wow, Choso this looks so beautiful already!" You beam excitedly, staring out the window in a rather childlike way as he puts the car in car.

"I'm glad you think so. I was so nervous you wouldn't like it." He admits with a timid chuckle. He gets out of the car, then comes around to give you a hand as you step out. You watch as he goes to the back seat, taking out a large blanket along with a basket that you hadn't even noticed. As if his idea couldn't get any sweeter. You feel your heart swell with warmth, watching as a happy, wide smile plasters itself across his adorable face.

"Ok..." Choso nods, grabbing your hand gently and leading you past the tall, black metal gates.

He chose such a perfect time of year as well, mid spring, when all the flowers have bloomed and the trees are full of lively colored leaves. The scent of all the flowers fill the air, being carried around by the soft breeze. You spot plum blossoms, cherry blossoms, camellias, and even lavender. Choso practically follows you around like a lost puppy, taking in all your explanations of each flower and how you love their shape and color. Even he can't help but squat down and gently touch some of their soft petals.

Finally, the pair of you reach the main event of the whole arboretum, a small stream with a beautiful, traditional looking red bridge in the center of a field. Beautiful lines of cherry blossom trees surround the area, and patches of flowers grow along the bank of the stream.

Choso sets the blanket down while you smoothen it out along the grass, and place the basket filled with foods he hopes you'll like down. The two of you talk, getting to know each other better while enjoying both the scenery, and overall, each other's company. You're already so enamored by Choso solely due to the amount of effort he's put into the first date alone.

So far, he never comes across like you're a burden or that it's some kind of obligation to take you out on a date, and you really appreciate that attitude from him.

He's made his intentions very clear with you, and this first date is just the icing on the cake. Inwardly, unbeknownst to either of you, you both wish this date would never end.

���───────────────────────────

A/N❥: Choso does NOT fumble the first date bag whatsoever in my book! He's just too much of a sweetheart for that; he gon' do his RESEARCH🧐🔬 okaaaay!!!! But fr though, this was very fun to write! I really like this idea of doing date headcanons in this kind of short fic form, thank you so much for the ask🙆🏾‍♀️

[poll-life-smp]

Session 2

More info about the creators:

Misterjoker:

silliest fella alive. an amazing builder. a jester. a stinker. you may know him as the J in the JITS crew. constantly has the air of "up to no good" even if there is no reason to have it

Cubfan:

None given yet :(

Aimsey:

Lesbian and vocal about it, loud, dramatic, good at managing things (like being sandkeeper in sands of time in mcc), really likes fnaf, usually just there to have a fun, crazy time 

Cherrifire:

Cherri has been tormented by Martyn InTheLittleWood himself, guaranteed!

Doctor4t:

Doctor4t is a French bastard of a modder and an all around freak. He's best known for blowing stuff up, making explosives and coding a fullly functional habitable airship. Which may or may not explode. He runs Content SMP where he spends his days committing war crimes, murder and playing with his pet rats.

Joe Hills:

Who's the man who can conquer death? That's Joe Hills! Joe is potentially not the best at pvp, but what he is great in is unpredictability. No matter what happens, he will operate on a principle known as "The Joe Hills Difference", which allows for peculiarity and absurdity to prevail. This man may be clumsy, but he sure is lucky. Plus, he was frequently HotGuy target practice, so he might just have a bit of experience dodging a bullet here and there.

[seas-storyarchive]

Cards and Bullets au

(I saw someone with an au that husker owned alastor instead, and I went: ooh~ sounds appealing. I can run with this concept)

Starts with: Alastor never being a demon overlord because he never got his mystery deal.

He was just a resident of cannibal town having landed there after death, trying to find some sort of betterment to his situation, during his time there he and rosie had become friends to the same level as the show - until he wandered into Husker's casino and tried his hand at gambling. Husker? He was getting bored with the same old winning streak. So, he made the red headed deer a deal: both would wager their souls. Winner takes the loser's soul.

Husker won. He now had two souls. Niffty, his maid/cook, and now Alastor as well. Hmm.. he could use a busboy and representative at these stupid overlord meetings.

Husker joins the hotel, because he got bored of gambling again and saw on the tv the shitshow that it was and was entertained.

He arrived and summoned Niffty and Alastor.

"Greetings! I'm Alastor Altruist! Pleasure to serve those acquainted to Lord Husker." He greeted with a bow beside the bar that Husker had summoned, an authentic record player with boxes stacked full of records beside him.

Charlie is happy that Alastor already seems to be on his way to healing, all by himself! And, delightedly so, found that he was an amazing cook.

(Husker let Alastor have fun with sir pentious by kicking the snot out of him and then called him off because he needed another bottle)

The rest of the cast:

Charlie: role is the same as show (still vaggies gf)

Vaggie: role is the same as show (still charlies gf)

Angel: was mob head in hell as he didn't get into a contract with Val, is hired security for the hotel (later becomes Husker's partner)

Niffty: role is same as show

Husker: still a demon lord, joined out of boredom, sends Alastor to be his stand-in for things (later becomes Angel's partner)

Cherri: role is same as show

Sir pentious: role is same as show, rip to the realest one

Lucifer: role is same as show

More changes: alastor does start to consider charlie as family, but he and lucifer aren't as antagonistic towards each other - luci and al are bros who talk about stuff over some rye whiskey and luci considers him a friend towards the end of the ep. The big boss of hell himself is indebted to al for resking his life to save charlie's life during the fall.

To which al keeps that favor in his back pocket for another day.

[maxknightley]

Hey, do you have any recommendations for where to start with Touhou? The completionist in me wants to start from the very beginning but every time I've looked into that it's seemed like more trouble to get set up than it's worth

Absolutely! I will say that my opinions on the matter tend to differ from other opinions I've seen, so take them with a grain of salt. (The biggest difference is that a lot of people think Imperishable Night is a good starter game. I disagree, mostly because I think Stage 5 is really difficult and its structure is very different from most installments.)

As far as games go, I'd recommend one of the following:

TH7, Perfect Cherry Blossom: the first of the touhou games to really have, like, characters and ideas in a way that matters. pretty simple, very Iconic. it's a little flat in my opinion tho.

TH10, Mountain of Faith: this is where the games really hit their stride, and it's the start of one of the big multi-game arcs in the series. it's not too difficult, it introduces several fan favorite characters, and I like the music a lot.

TH14, Double Dealing Character: my personal favorite. it's tricky to get used to at first, especially because there's a gimmick that works best once you've played the game several times and are starting to memorize the stage layouts through repetition. that said, it has My Blorbos in it, I think it has some of the best bullet patterns in the series, and once you DO get a hang of the power-up system it's relatively easy to get to the final boss without using any continues.

TH17, Wily Beast and Weakest Creature: Furries live here, and it's one of the easiest games in the series. This one's also the start of a multi-game arc, by the way.

I strongly recommend against starting with Embodiment of Scarlet Devil; it's the first Windows game, but it's just not that great, and I don't think it gives you a good sense of what the series as a whole is like. If you're going to play it, do so after playing the more recent stuff.

Don't start with Undefined Fantastic Object or Legacy of Lunatic Kingdom, either; they're both solid entries, but they're very difficult.

As for the print works, the consensus seems to be "start with Forbidden Scrollery and Wild and Horned Hermit, then read what's left in whichever order you please." I'm inclined to agree. Personally I'd start with FS because I think it's a bit breezier and more fun than WAHH, but they're both solid.

[smutoperator]

Rules, kinks and favorite idols/groups

I've had this blog for a while but finally I'm not busy enough to keep it active. So there are the rules:

Idols must be 18 or older (obviously).

Sex must always be consensual.

Besides rape, I also avoid stuff like scat, vomit and necrophilia.

I don't write G!P smuts. I allow for the use of strap-ons but not actual penises for idols that have vaginas.

I keep note on every request and will select a few if the story fits. All smuts will feature at least one female idol and a male reader.

My favorite fantasies are: anal (my #1), breeding, creampie, dirty talk dom/sub, facefucking, morning sex, poolside sex, public sex, rough sex, spanking and titfucking. As you can see, I'm on the rougher side of the spectrum and my smuts veer into the porny side but can do romantic stuff if asked to.

Now on to the idols.

I have idols spawning from 2nd to 4th generation as my biases, my all time top 10 is, ordered by their groups: AOA Seolhyun, Blackpink Jennie, Dreamcatcher Yoohyeon, Girl's Day Yura, f(x) Krystal, Ive Wonyoung, Iz*one/Soloist Eunbi, SNSD Yuri, Twice Jihyo and Twice Momo (and RV Seulgi but I don't write smuts about her for finding her too cute to lewd).

Here are the idols from each group, order alphabetically, I can write smuts of. Inside their groups, the idols are ordered by my personal preference.

4Minute: Hyuna

Aespa: Karina - Ningning - Winter - Giselle

After School: Nana - Kahi

Alice: Sohee

AOA: Seolhyun - Choa - Hyejeong - Jimin

Apink: Bomi - Hayoung - Eunji - Naeun - Chorong

Berry Good: Johyun

Blackpink: Jennie - Jisoo - Lisa - Rosé

Cherry Bullet: Jiwon

Cignature: Jeewon

CLC: Seungyeon - Yeeun

Dal Shabet: Subin

Dreamcatcher: Yoohyeon - Gahyeon - Handong - SuA - JiU

Exid: Hani - Junghwa

f(x) : Krystal - Victoria

Fromis 9: Saerom - Chaeyoung

Gidle: Soyeon - Shuhua - Minnie - Yuqi - Miyeon

Girl's Day: Yura - Hyeri

Gfriend: Eunha - SinB - Sowon - Yuju - Yerin - Umji

I.O.I: Somi - Doyeon - Sejeong - Jieqiong - Chungha - Mina

Itzy: Yeji - Chaeryeong - Yuna - Ryujin

Ive: Wonyoung - Gaeul - Yujin - Rei - Liz

Iz*one: Eunbi - Wonyoung - Chaewon - Minju - Hyewon - Yujin - Sakura - Yena - Chaeyeon

Kep1er: Xiaoting - Yujin - Hikaru - Chaehyun - Dayeon

Le Sserafim: Kazuha - Chaewon - Yunjin - Sakura

Loona: Heejin - Yeojin - Hyeju - Yves - Haseul - Jinsoul - Kim Lip

Lovelyz: Mijoo

Mamamoo: Solar - Hwasa

Miss A: Suzy - Fei

Momoland: Ahin - Nancy

Newjeans: Danielle - Minji - Hanni

Nine Muses: Kyungri

Nmixx: Sullyoon - Haewon

Oh My Girl: Arin - Yooa - Jiho - Yubin - Mimi - Hyojung - Seunghee

Rainbow: Jaekyung - Hyunyoung

Red Velvet: Joy - Yeri - Irene

Secret: Hyosung

SNSD: Yuri - Yoona - Taeyeon - Seohyun - Sunny - Jessica - Tiffany - Hyoyeon - Sooyoung

Sistar: Soyou - Hyolyn - Bora - Dasom

Stayc: Isa - J - Seeun - Yoon

T-Ara: Hyomin - Jiyeon

Twice: Momo - Jihyo - Sana - Mina - Tzuyu - Dahyun - Nayeon - Jeongyeon - Chaeyoung

Weeekly: Monday - Zoa - Jihan

WJSN: Bona - Cheng Xiao

Wonder Girls: Sunmi